Monday, October 15, 2018

#NewRelease LEGACY OF LIES by Tara Leigh @InkSlingerPR @TaraLeighBooks ‏



Today we are celebrating the release of LEGACY OF LIES by Tara Leigh!

LEGACY OF LIES is the first novel in the series and you can purchase it now for $2.99.

THRONE OF LIES is a prequel novella from the Legacy of Lies series can be read for FREE today only!


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Watch the Book Trailer

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PURCHASE NOW: 

Purchase in PAPERBACK NOW


Blurb: 

Money. Status. Wealth. Power. I believed I was entitled to all of it. My legacy. Jolie Chapman. I thought I was entitled to her, too. My love. In a scandal that set our families against each other, I lost. My legacy. My love. Everything. I was heir to a throne built on lies, my crown forged from corruption. Stripped of everything I'd been raised to consider my birthright. Including my princess—who wasn’t mine, after all. I’ve spent the past decade rebuilding my life, on my own terms. Money. Status. Wealth. Power. They’ve been earned. Now I’ve returned to Manhattan for redemption, too. Jolie wasn’t supposed to be here. … And I wasn’t supposed to care. Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice— Who am I kidding? I don’t believe in second chances anymore.

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 Review Coming Soon

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Review Coming Soon

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The LEGACY OF LIES series novella, THRONE OF LIES, is available for FREE TODAY ONLY!


THRONE OF LIES by Tara Leigh 
Prequel novella to Legacy of Lies 

READ IT NOW FOR FREE (for today only!) 


Purchase in PAPERBACK NOW

Blurb: 

I was called a prodigal son. A scion of Midas. I believed it. Why wouldn’t I? Everything my father touched turned to gold. The proof was all around me. Luxury cars. Elite schools. A billion-dollar business. Even my girlfriend, a Park Avenue Princess. I reigned from a throne of lies. My fall from grace… wasn’t graceful at all. 








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AUTHOR BIO: 


Tara Leigh writes steamy contemporary romance featuring tortured heroes worth lusting after and the women they didn't know they needed. She attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children and fur-baby, Pixie.

AUTHOR LINKS:







#Tour #Reviews CLOSE (Ryder Brothers #1) by Laurelin Paige @CandiKanePR @LaurelinPaige

     
CLOSE (Ryder Brothers #1) by Laurelin Paige
Release Date: October 10th
Cover Design: Laurelin Paige
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Model: Kaz Vanderwaard


AVAILABLE NOW!!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited!!

           


           

BLURB
Everyone wants to get close to a rock star.
The bright lights.
The music.
Those talented fingers strumming… a guitar.
Everyone wants to bang a rock star.
So why do I keep running from the one who wants me?
I’m America’s Sweetheart.
I have a reputation.
He’s a boy-band icon turned rock god.
I’m vanilla.
He’s every flavor of bad.
And he’s much, much too young for me.
If I end up in Nick Ryder’s bed, my career and I will both be screwed.
...but that’s only if I’m caught.




Oh my gosh!!! Yes. Yes! YES!!!!!

Is it hot? Hell yeah.
Is it romantic? Duh.
Is it everything you expect from Laurelin Paige? Abso-freaking-lutely!!

It's hot, steamy, and fun. It's got giggle like a school girl moments, snicker behind your hand spots, and head back and laugh moments too. Ms. Paige has captured the innocence of a new relationship, the chemistry of a chemical burn, and the heat of wildfires that plague California. Nothing about this book will turn you off. It is without a doubt a complete and total turn on!

The characters, the doubts, and the passion are real and felt through the words. This book makes the reader a part of this fairytale. You aren't relegated to reading words. No, this story makes you the characters. It makes you the writer of the story. 

And I'm sorry to break my no hints rules but this quote is so real it had to be shared...

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

So did I like it...? No, I freaking love it. Close...the meaning...sigh. The meaning behind the title makes me swoon. Don't take my word for it though, enjoy the butterflies in your stomach, the need a little further south, and the hearts in your eyes. Just remember, Nick Ryder is the one who put them there!

reviewed by Sweet Spot Sisterhood

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This book was so easy to fall into it made me feel lighter happier and in love. 

There is no denying the chemistry between Nick and Natalia from that first steamy meeting, dirty dancing has nothing on these two. Two famous faces who you wouldn't put together but they just work. 

This has a good old fashioned romantic feel to it but the feelings and concerns are so true to life. Older man younger woman noone bats an eye but flip that around and the media and public are vicious. I was so happy that we get a story where the older woman isn't some airhead just looking for someone to take care of her but someone who is successful on her own.

In conclusion,  I loved the characters the dynamics of their relationship, the story which is all so good because the writing is so good. 


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EXCERPT
"Hi," he says, doing a double-take when he realizes it's me. He looks fabulous, of course, because why wouldn’t he when I look so scrubby? He's wearing jeans and a T-shirt and a hoodie, and his face doesn't look like he's tired, or like he stayed up late to drink too much and tear up the dance floor.
Or like he spent last night making out with somebody more than a decade older than him.
"It’s crazy seeing you here," I say. I giggle again at the sheer ridiculousness of this. "Do you come here often?" What am I doing? What am I saying? It's like I just learned how to talk to people of the opposite sex. How have I ever gotten a date?
Not that I'm trying to date Nick.
"Occasionally. You?" He sticks his hands in his pockets and he's so relaxed, so sexy, and I just can't stand all that swagger on such a handsome guy that I am not allowed to touch. It’s unfair for anyone to look so effortlessly edible before nine a.m.
"It's my favorite shop. Come here all the time." I take a couple steps backwards, trying to shift toward my car. "I probably should—"
"Don't you think it's probably more than a coincidence?" He takes a step towards me, and I take one back, willing myself not to respond to the rumble of his deep voice and the magnetism of his body. "That we’d see each other again so soon. Kind of like fate, almost."
Oh my god, Oh my god, he’s flirting with me. What do I do? He’s so hot, I can’t even look at him. But then I do, and I have total church-giggles over this, and I have to escape before I make an even bigger fool out of myself. Someone is bound to notice that I am losing my cool, and they’ll draw conclusions that aren’t even true.
It was just kissing!
"It's really weird, I have to admit." I dance back some more, then glance behind me to make sure I’m not going to back into the street and get run over and make this even worse. "And really awkward." I brush some hair back that’s come loose from the messy bun at the base of my neck.
He shrugs, seeming to disagree. And it’s true that I’m the only one who seems to be awkward right now. "I don't know about that. Doesn't have to be awkward. Could just be convenient. Since I never got your phone number."
If I didn't think he was flirting before, I know he definitely is now. I don't want to say no to him, but I have to say no to him. He cannot have my number. Can’t have anything more than a memory of a scorching-hot make-out in the back of a club. What we did was not for a sunlit day. It was for a dark corner. And yet, I still can't seem to actually say the word no. So instead I say, "Why do you need my phone number?"
Oh my god, this is mortifying. It really is like I'm in high school again and I've forgotten not only how to talk to boys but how to stand in their presence.
He takes another step toward me, laughing. "Well, for one thing, I thought it might be nice if we had dinner sometime."
He has the most ridiculous smile, I realize. It lights up his entire face. You can see it in his eyes, and there's no pretension. It's all genuine. Pure sunshine. I'm rendered speechless by it for half a second and I have to ask, "What was that?"
"Dinner,” he says, that huge-ass grin in full force, taking another step toward me, and now there's only three feet between us, and I can feel the body heat from him, can remember what it felt like the last time he walked me backwards into a wall and then his body was pressing into me, and his mouth was on me. When his chest was against me, when his cock was pressing into me and my hips—
I suddenly jump backwards. "I don't think that would be a good idea." I look around suddenly to see if anyone's noticed this exchange yet.
It’s fine, it’s still fine.
We're just two people who work in the same industry who bumped into each other on a Saturday morning and are chatting like people do on Saturday mornings when they bump into each other. While giggling. Totally fine.
"What are you worried about, Natalia?" He doesn't chase after me, just stands there looking confident and laid-back. Like a man trying to tempt a scared animal out from hiding. "I mean—I do bite, but most women like it."
I smile at that, because I can't help it, but I duck so he doesn’t see.
He’s probably so much more experienced than me.
He’s probably so dirty in the bedroom.
God, I shouldn’t be thinking about that. "I shouldn't even be talking to you," I say, shaking my head. I turn toward my car.
"No, you shouldn’t be," he calls from behind me, and I have to actually close my eyes to collect myself because it’s obvious he’s thinking about doing not-talking things. Things like last night. Things like biting.
Things good girls have no business being so turned on by.
I tell myself he probably says stuff like that to all the girls who walk away from him.
But who am I kidding? Who has ever walked away from Nick Ryder? Besides me, I mean. Twice now. I deserve an Oscar for my willpower. That should be a new category.
"Bye, Nick," I call as I flee with my coffee.
Then I step into my car, put my keys in the ignition and drive away before I lose my senses and change my mind.

           

About Laurelin
With over 1 million books sold, Laurelin Paige is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn't seem to complain, however. When she isn't reading or writing sexy stories, she's probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She's also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn't do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.
     

       CONNECT WITH LAURELIN PAIGE

Twitter: @LaurelinPaige

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Friday, October 12, 2018

#NewRelease #Tour #Reviews ALL MY LIFE by Prescott Lane @jennw23 @PrescottLane1


All My Life by Prescott Lane Release Date: October 10, 2018



All My Life, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by Prescott Lane.

The beginning of any love story starts with the meet.

I’ve known Garrett Hollis since before I can remember, and I’ve loved him just as long. I loved him while he loved someone else. I loved him when he had a baby with her. I loved him when she left him.

The greatest of love stories is that between a dad and his daughter. I should know. I’ve had a front row seat. First steps, first words, all the big moments. 

Garrett was just a teenager when Mia was born. I’ve watched him braid his daughter’s hair, hold her hand crossing the street, seen her asleep on his chest. I’m the best friend, the one they can count on for everything from dance lessons to motherly advice, anything they need. I’m their go-to girl.

The best part of any love story is the happily ever after.

But what if the happily ever after doesn’t include you?

All my life, that’s how long I’ve loved him.

Of course, he’s clueless.


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I read the prologue and I knew I was going to like this book because those words made me fall in love with a character I hadn't met yet. Through flashbacks, we are introduced to Garrett and how he coped being a single dad to the coolest daughter Mia. Life is about to change for this family of two, getting to read this from a dads perspective was unusual and poignant. Mia wants to find someone for him but has that someone been there all along.

I loved Garrett Mia and Devlyn the author writes their characters perfectly. I really felt that I knew them and can picture than in my head. It's s beautiful my written story with a different take on a single parent romance one I feel has been sadly lacking in this genre. Although there is slight drama this was a gentle love story that I adored. 

reviewed by Sweet Spot Sisterhood

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All My Life...

Not many of us can use that phrase and be honest. 

All My Life...

This book is pain, love, and friendship. It is happiness at what you have and dreams of everything you knew you never could. It is everything that's ever been in your face and never been noticed. It hurts. Not at first, no. 

At first, All My Life is smiles, laughs, and train wreck horror (in parade format). With a speech that launches tourism for a sleepy town, the train wreck that ensues is awesome...as a bystander. It's amusing. It's sweet but it's bittersweet. Seeing both sides creates a gap in our hearts. A grand canyon of hopes. 

All My Life...

Powerful words. A devastatingly accurate phrase. A curse. A plea. A whispered promise.

All My Life...

Did I mention I'm a soggy, crying mess? Oh yeah, I forgot. Prescott Lane eviscerated my poor bruised heart with a selfless act that would even make the black heart of Satan turn red and start beating. Love is beautiful. Love is hard. But it's also easy. So easy to love this book and the characters in it- most of them!

Hard would be to ignore this heartwarming, smile-inducing chance at a kiss under a rainbow.

Reviewed for Sweet Spot Sisterhood


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Download your copy today! 



Amazon Worldwide: https://amzn.to/2C60Tlw




Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/t1CH95



Excerpt:

As far as dates go, this one has been good. I like her. She’s attractive, funny, smart, seems to have her head on straight. All the boxes are checked. This should be the point where I kiss her, ask her out again. I should be devising ways to get in this woman’s panties, but instead, I’m thinking more about yanking down the tutu of one very sexy Biscuit Girl. I should be thinking about how to get this woman to fall for me, but it’s me that’s fallen. I should have one thing on my mind, and I do — Devlyn.

There’s just one big ass problem. She’s my friend. I can’t go there. There are so many reasons why I can’t go there. The town would have a field day. We’d have no privacy. Everyone would have an opinion. If we broke up, where would I get a decent cup of coffee? How would Mia react to this? Then there’s Scott, who’s actually the least of my concerns. Devlyn seemed pretty sure it was over, and if it’s not, I plan on convincing her.

I don’t want to lose Devlyn. 

Staying friends guarantees her in my life. Dating her doesn’t. 

Love doesn’t come with a guarantee.

Love is a risk. I used to be a risk taker, but teenage fatherhood buried that part of me. Stability became the name of the game. It had to. I look towards her diner, wondering if she’s back. 

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About Prescott Lane: 
Prescott Lane is the Amazon best-selling author of Stripped Raw. She's got seven other books under her belt including: First Position, Perfectly Broken, Quiet Angel, Wrapped in Lace, Layers of Her, The Reason for Me, and The Sex Bucket List. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and holds a degree in sociology and a MSW from Tulane University. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren't enough happily ever afters in real life.

Connect with Prescott Lane:

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#NewRelease #Tour #Review CARDS OF LOVE: The Moon by Sierra Simone @CandiKanePR @TheSierraSimone


Cards of Love: The Moon by Sierra Simone
Release Date: October 5th
Genre: Erotic Romance
Cover Designer: Lori Jackson at Lori Jackson Design



AVAILABLE NOW!!



Blurb:

She’s angry that I left. I’m angry that I died.
It’s the trouble with our two lives: we don’t only have one past to work through, but two. Double the pain, twice the betrayal.
A million times the tragedy.

***The Moon is the story of Merlin and Nimue from the New Camelot trilogy. It’s recommended that you read the trilogy first, as there are American King spoilers in The Moon.***

(Cards of Love is a massive multi-author project, a series of love letters to the mysterious and inspirational world of tarot cards. These can be read in any order, as the only thing the Cards of Love books share is their common inspiration from the world of tarot.)



Merlin and Nimue from The New Camelot series take center stage In this intoxicating tale. I was always so intrigued by Merlin and now his role all makes sense. I don't want to spoil it but for me it was an aha moment. However what about his history and his love, prepare yourself as this is a twisty tale of a decadent erotic passionate love story. 

I've loved the way this author has brought the stories of Camelot up to date with a twist. This was the perfect addition to the serious there is nothing I would change the story and writing were amazing.

reviewed for Sweet Spot Sisterhood

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Excerpt

A hiss in the darkness, then a flame, bright and dancing and unwelcome.
A match, I think, and then I think, why?
And then: where am I?
“You’re awake,” says a voice like water. A voice I love. It still doesn’t help me figure out where I am.
“Am I?” I ask. “Awake?”
Like I said earlier, I don’t dream as such, but when I close my eyes, the memories and visions are there, dogging my sleep. And I think maybe—yes, there is also a memory like this. A memory of a dark-haired girl and a cave sparkling with light, the night air heavy with the ecstatic cries we fed it.
“You are awake, Merlin.” The flame moves, calves another flame, and then is blown out. A candle now glows softly against the face of a woman standing at the end of the bed I’m on.
Dark brows arch high over clear blue eyes and a long nose curves gracefully down the woman’s oval face, framed by a high forehead and cheekbones, and a beautiful, if narrow, jaw. Her lips are on the thin side, but perfectly sculpted, giving her an expressive, fascinating mouth. Coffee-dark hair hangs in glossy sheets around her face and down her back.
She’s haunting. Haunting even as a girl, but now even more so as a woman.
“Nimue,” I say, and for the first time I notice how thirsty I am. I make to sit up—and realize my hands are tied to the bed.
Nimue sets the candle down on an end table, and it illuminates the space enough to show me that
I’m indeed in a room and not in the damp mouth of a cave.It means it’s now and not then, which I suppose I should be grateful for.
After all, I died then.
A silver key glints from just below the smile of her clavicle, the bottom tip of it pointing to the sweet valley between her breasts I used to know so well. They are small and pert—her body still the lithe dancer’s body she had as a girl—and my flesh responds to the sight of those little handfuls, the memory of them. The fantasy of her dusky nipples dragging along the underside of my aching cock is enough to have my body warming, and that’s when I really become aware that I’m not only tied to the bed, but I’m also dressed in a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else.
Well, nothing else except for the padded cuff around my ankle.
Nimue leans forward to untie my wrist, which leaves the front of her swishy dress gaping forward enough that I can see those nipples now, dark rose and erect.
I’d tasted them frequently once upon a time.
Once upon a time, twice.
In another life, I’d known the feel of her breasts against my lips and tongue better than I’d known almost anything else.
With one of my wrists freed, Nimue straightens and nods at the other. “You can untie yourself. You’ll find that the chain allows you more than enough length to do everything you need. I’m obviously trusting you not to do anything self-destructive, but should the need arise, I can take away this particular freedom.” She says it cheerfully, almost as if the idea of taking away my freedom delights her.
The key on her chest glints as she steps back, and I understand that it’s the key that unlocks my cuff—the same cuff that is connected to a ring in the floor by a length of slender chain.
Anger comes.
And with it shame.
And with that, fear.
I died once this way, and I’d rather not do it again.
I lunge for my other wrist to untie it, needing to be free, needing to reach for Nimue to kiss her or kill her—but by the time I untie myself, she’s out the door with it shut and locked behind her.


About the Author:
Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

Connect with Sierra Simone:

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Thursday, October 11, 2018

#NewRelease #Reviews RIDGE by S.L. Scott @slscottauthor


Title: RIDGE

Author: S.L. Scott

Standalone Contemporary Romance




SYNOPSIS


The One didn’t exist.

Then I met Meadow.

The band's honorary little sister was off-limits. Too late for that. She says we’re “nothing serious,” but she’s gotten under my skin and I can’t stop thinking about her. And when I touch her, I know we’re meant to be.

Happy Endings don’t exist.

Not even with Ridge.

My big plans never included falling for a rock star. Too soon for that. He wants to make us a “thing,” and I can’t deny our chemistry is combustible. His persistence is wearing me down, making his proposition hard to resist.

If true love only exists in fairy tales, why am I beginning to believe that Ridge just might be my happily ever after?

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This STANDALONE Second Chance Rock Star Romance by New York Times Bestselling Author, S.L. Scott, will have you falling in love with Ridge Carson while introducing you to his Sexy as Sin band mates—Jet, Tulsa, and Rivers Crow.



FREE in Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited Program

THE CROW BROTHERS SERIES

Spark

Tulsa

Rivers

Ridge

**Series Cover Designs: RBA Designs**



There was never a doubt in my mind that Dave "Ridge" Carson would find love. As the "last man standing" for The Crow Brothers, it seemed inevitable but not because of fame, money, or groupies. Dave is genuinely a sweet and amazing guy. Of course, someone would sweep him up...

Too bad she swept him up and knocked him on his ass!

Love isn't easy. Love isn't always kind. Sometimes it isn't love holding you back, but insecurities-in this case lots of insecurities!

Ridge is swoony. He is kind. He is patient. He is a rock star. What's not to love!?! But his story isn't all rainbows and some butterflies can't fly. Ridge is real and he is hurting. It's a beautiful story for a character we all love. I'm glad I finally got to "meet" the one who stole his heart!

Reviewed for Sweet Spot Sisterhood

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The Crowe brothers are one of my favourite rocker series each interconnected book has a separate story that always pulls me in.

Ridge/Dave is just wonderful and he has so many good qualities -- caring, tender, romantic -- in short, he made me swoon a lot. Meadow is an independent young woman trying to see where she fits and what she wants her future to look like. 

I'm happy the other characters are present of the story and that their inclusion feels natural and that they are not just there as a side note. At times I got so frustrated however I understand why those moments were there. 

This was a wonderfully written addition to this series.


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EXCERPT
Prologue 

Dave “Ridge” Carson 
Somewhere between El Paso and Tucson, I found my soul under the bright stars of the Southwest. Looking up, I drink her in. Meadow hates when I stare at her, but beauty like hers is rare. Her chin dips down, and she kisses my cheek, trailing more toward my ear where she whispers, “You feel so good inside me.” “You have it all wrong. You make me feel good inside you.” I capture her lips on the edge of a laugh and kiss her while she continues to rock on top of my lap. The sound of our bodies, our skin slick against each other becomes part of the hum of the desert outside the car. A night wind whistles through the cracked open window as the temperatures continue to fall well after sunset. We couldn’t wait—not for a hotel or a rest stop. When her hand dipped to my pants and she rubbed over me, causing my body to react, I pulled over. Time is our enemy. There’s never enough of it when I’m with her. Every time I’m with her, I want to drain every ounce of life from the seconds, minutes, few short hours we get to be with each other. My gaze rolls over the bottom of her jaw as her head tilts back, her mouth open, her bare breasts in front of me. I want to hold her still, hold her here, right the fuck here on top of me. I run my hands over her body as I make love to the woman who’s become an addiction of mine. I breathe better, easier when I’m with her. The music of our bodies together is the only melody I hear. She’s become my friend. My lover. My muse. Lifting up, she eases back down and then lifts again, gripping my shoulders and digging her nails into my skin. The pain is pleasure when doled out in provocative ways. “Dave,” she whispers on the end of a purr. No other name has been uttered in pure ecstasy like the way she says mine. I hold her by the hips in the back seat of the SUV taking in the full view. “Hey,” I say. She comes back to me, her eyes open, her soul exposed in such a vulnerable way, setting my heart on fire. “Hey.” She smiles, and I hold her still again, wanting this to last forever while equally wanting to rush the release. A few sips of the wine we’ve been drinking straight from the bottle make her eyes sparkle. Caught between want and need, her smile is even until the corners, which curve up. It’s a smile that both hurts and heals my heart when it appears. “Don’t leave.” Leaning down, she kisses my forehead, my nose, my mouth. With her lips against mine, she whispers, “I have to go.” I’ve been careful about making plans with her for so long that the words feel foreign to me even now when this feels more intimate than any other time before. Every time with her is like this—better than the last. “I want you to stay.” I fell for the free-spirited beauty long before we left Austin. But like all who are meant to soar, she can’t be caged by antiquated notions of romance. Meadow Fellowes has been clear about what we are or ever could be—nothing serious. But sometimes, when she looks at me, I see more hidden in the emerald pools of her eyes. I understand the yearning. She says, “My flight is tomorrow night.” We’ve been so good at keeping it casual, but nothing serious means we’re fucking because we want to have sex. This isn’t fucking, just like we’re not casual, not to me. “Can you change it? Give us another week. Another day. Give us a chance.” Leaning down, she kisses me and then sits back up. With her palms on my chest, she holds her smile. “I am. By leaving.” Her eyes close, and she starts moving on top of me again. So I grip her a little tighter, holding her while I can. I meet every one of her pushes with a thrust of my own. As she comes back to me, the lids are half-mast, but her gaze is fixed on me. She whispers, “Tell me what you’re thinking.” “I’m thinking how good this feels. Just us. Alone. In the desert, making love, having sex, fucking. All of it. All of you. You feel so good to me. Maybe we should be more to each other.” “You’re more than you know,” she purrs softly and then leans back as if our connection is too much before she starts a slow gyrate. God, she feels amazing. A hand rubs over my chest, and this time, my eyes meet hers, coming back from the hazy edge of release. “We’re not those people.” “What people are those?” “The kind of people who make plans.” Our bodies glide together as I say, “We’ve made plans before.” “Spur-of-the-moment plans. Those don’t count.” “They count.” They fucking count. I want to argue, but my mind clouds as our bodies move of their own volition. My eyes dip closed, and I swim in the moment, buried deep inside her. We fall, tipping over that line that keeps us safe and the one that will end us—heart, body, and soul. It’s where I prefer to be with her. If only we could stay in this place longer than it takes for our breathing to recover. My heart calms, and my breathing steadies. Meadow slides down with me still inside her and rests her head on my shoulder. Her fingers toy with the hairs on my chest before a kiss is placed on my neck. “Six months,” she says. “I’ll be back in six months.” I tighten my arms around her. I don’t care that my body’s too big for this back seat or that we’re covered in sweat. All that matters is that I have her in my arms for a short time, and I intend to savor every second until she boards that plane. 



ABOUT S.L. SCOTT

Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.
~ Text “slscott” to 77948 ~


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