Excerpt Reveal: The First Taste by Jessica Hawkins

 

The First Taste by Jessica Hawkins

Series: Slip of the Tongue #2 Release Date: August 4^th, 2016 Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis:

Andrew Beckwith has already devoted his life to one girl—and as far as he’s concerned, she’s all he needs. The rough-around-the-edges bad boy left his reckless ways behind six years ago when his daughter Bell was born. To the female population’s dismay, he’s unapologetically single. When Bell’s mother walked out on them years ago, he vowed never to let another woman close enough to hurt them again. Amelia Van Ecken isn’t just another woman. She’s an independent, smart, and savvy businesswoman who doesn’t have time for sex, much less love. In the midst of a drawn-out, bitter divorce, all she wants is to bury herself in work. But when sharp-tongued Amelia and stubborn Andrew cross paths, sparks fly—and burn. Two things are obvious in an instant: they want each other, and they’re from different worlds. It’s the perfect formula for an off-the-charts one-night stand. After all, it’s not as if opposites ever attract. The First Taste, a standalone spin-off of the Slip of the Tongue.  

Excerpt:

  “What’re your plans tonight?” She scoffs. “It’s Friday night. What aren’t my plans? I have drinks with friends in an hour, then a late dinner, and who knows after that.” “Cancel them.” She gapes at me. “Cancel my plans? Why would I?” “Come out with me. Sadie says there’s a place around here with great pizza.” She laughs, tilting her head and exposing the smooth column of her throat. “First, I don’t eat carbs, so there’s no way you’re getting me to do anything with the promise of pizza. Second, I just told you—I don’t date.” “And neither do I.” “Then why are you asking me out?” she asks. “Because despite what you may think, I am a gentleman, and it’s only good manners to buy you dinner first.” “First?” she asks, wrinkling her nose. “What’s second?” We stare at each other. I let her figure it out on her own. It’s rare to meet a woman like me, someone who truly has no interest in finding a partner. I’ve heard that claim from enough girls to know when they’re bullshitting me, and unless Amelia is a Grade-A con artist, she definitely isn’t looking to get serious. When she understands, the wrinkles on her forehead ease, and she parts her lips. I answer with a knowing smile. Suggesting sex within half an hour of meeting someone might normally get me slapped, but I get the feeling Amelia appreciates a more direct approach. “I don’t date,” I say, “but I’m still a man with eyes.” She makes no secret of looking me up and down. “You’re not my type either,” she warns. “I like men who carry a briefcase and see a barber regularly.” I run my hand through my black hair, which I know is too long. “How’s that working out for you?” She narrows her eyes. “Fine. Perfect.” “I have some tattoos too,” I say. “And ride a motorcycle. Since that’s normally how I get most girls, I suppose those are turn-offs for you.” “They are,” she says immediately, straightening her shoulders. “I’ve never understood the appeal of a bad boy.” “Then tonight, we’re a match made in heaven, aren’t we? It shouldn’t be hard for either of us to say goodbye afterward.” She bats her eyelashes a few times, not because she’s flirting but because she’s thinking. Considering. Which means it’s basically a done deal. I’ve never gotten this far with a girl only to have her walk away. “Why even bother with dinner?” she asks. I take a moment to study her, her shoulder-length, perfectly coifed blonde hair. Her defined red lips that look like a heart when pursed, which is often. Yeah, based on the fact that I’m noticing details—something I try not to do anymore—I know I’m feeling her tonight. Most guys would jump at the opportunity to skip the small talk, but that doesn’t really appeal to me. I like women, always have. Just because Shana fucked me in the head doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend time around them—just so long’s it’s surface stuff. I don’t want to scare her off by suggesting I might want to have a conversation with her, so I just shrug. “Because I’m starving.” “I’m not hungry.” “Indulge me then. I need my energy.” “For what?” she asks. I arch an eyebrow at her. I’ll definitely need my energy for a night with her. She reads my expression and her cheeks redden. “Oh.”  

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About the Author

Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City. To her, the most intriguing fiction is forbidden, and that’s what you’ll find in her stories. Currently, she resides wherever her head lands, which is often the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.

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Review & Giveaway: Come What May by A.M. Arthur

Title: Come What May

Author: A.M. Arthur

Series: All Saints #1

Version Reviewed: ARC, eBook

Website: www.amarthur.blogspot.com.au/

I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.

Synopsis:

Jonas needs Tate. He just doesn't know it yet.
Or at least, he doesn't want to admit it. Because there is no way Jonas Ashcroft is gay. He's a straight, carefree frat boy player, just like any good son of a conservative state senator. If only his struggle to convince everyone—especially himself—didn't leave him so miserable. No matter how many girls or bottles he drowns himself in, Jonas can neither escape nor accept who he is.
Enter Tate. He's smart, confident, and instantly sees right through Jonas's surly exterior. Sure, he's done things in life he's not proud of, but he knows who he is and what he wants. And what he wants is Jonas. As their easy friendship intensifies into something more, Tate introduces Jonas to a life he's never known. One filled with acceptance and sex and a love that terrifies and excites them both.
But some inner demons refuse to be shaken off so easily. When Jonas's old life barges in, he faces a shattering choice, one that could destroy everything he and Tate have fought so hard for. Sometimes love just isn't enough—and sometimes it's exactly what you need.

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Review:

I haven't been accepting review requests or taking on review copies for tours and stuff unless they're written by authors that I know and love, simply because I already have a huge TBR pile of review books and ARCs that I need to get through. Seriously, it's bad. But when I saw the cover of this book come through my email from Kismet and read the synopsis, I knew I had to give it a try. I love LGBTQIA books but I don't read many. It's just my opinion, but quite often the ones that do come through are poorly written and the characters jump straight to bed, do the dirty, maybe one conflict and they're done. I'm not really a fan of that. When I read books with couples of the same sex (or any type of characters, really) I want the delicious bedrooms scenes to be heightened by the build up. I want to feel something other than just turned on.

I'm happy to say that Come What May did not disappoint. I admit that I did think the story, relation-ship wise, went a little fast. At times it felt like Jonas moved a little too quickly into the lifestyle he'd apparently always fought against. At the beginning of the story, we really got no hint that Jonas was gay and I assumed that he was unaware of it at well. The way he internalized with himself as well as the way he interacted with Tate. Very quickly however, he was admitting to Tate that he had always known, to some degree, that he was gay and that he had pretty much spent his life repressing it. I do feel like that was a little odd at times. He kind of went from end of the spectrum to the other in a super short amount of time.

I also love that this story dealt with some serious issues. I know quite a few people that either question their sexuality or identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, etc. and I fucking HATE that a teenager, child, or even adult has to fear being thrown away by the people that should love them and support them the most because of who they are. I hate it so much. That is a kind of pain and suffering that someone is not able to understand fully unless they experience for themselves. Some of us end up never letting the people closest to us know who we fully are because we're afraid. And that sucks. No one should have to feel this way.  I love that the Jonas and Tates story tackled that fully, from the shelter that Tate runs for homeless teens to the battle Jonas has to fight with his own father and mother. It was real and definitely important to the story.

Overall, I think this was a beautiful love story. The character were absolutely amazing and I fell in love with them. I'm curious as to what the author has in store for them in the rest of the All Saints series.

Rating: 4 Stars.

Excerpt

[Tate] bypassed the washer and dryer and sorting table, then knocked of Jonas’s door. Gave it to the count of five before turning the knob. Jonas was stretched out on a messy sofa bed, earbuds in and eyes shut. The same thing he did most nights, only this time he was hiding in his room instead of lingering on the back porch.

Tate closed the door, then leaned against it. Crossed his arms. Being alone in a room with the object of his interest maybe wasn’t the best plan, but it wasn’t as if Tate was going to pounce on the guy. He’d probably get punched in the face. Jonas wasn’t ripped but he wasn’t a slouch, either.

Not that Tate couldn’t defend himself. He’d learned how fast when he’d made the choice to hustle so his sisters and Mom could eat.

He gave Jonas a few minutes to notice him, until boredom set in. Done with the subtle approach, Tate marched over and bounced down onto the foot of the bed.

Jonas yelped as he jack-knifed into a sitting position, eyes flying open. His surprise shifted into a dark glare. “Jesus Christ, Tate, really?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I didn’t feel like sitting outside. Doesn’t mean I’m avoiding you.”

“Nice deflection. We’re adults, Jonas. We can talk about what happened in the apartment.”

“Nothing happened in the apartment.”

“No?”

“No.”

Jonas’s glare was on full-force, but behind it was the hunger that Tate had glimpsed upstairs. It gave Tate hope that he hadn’t read Jonas wrong.

“Doris and Raymond know I’m gay,” Tate said.

“And?”

“And it wouldn’t be a big deal to them that you are too, and don’t tell me you’re not.”

Jonas crossed his arms. “What’s the point? You don’t listen to me anyway.”

“Talk to me,” Tate said. “People say I’m a good listener. Especially Addyson. When she gets going, I can’t get a word in edge-wise.”

Jonas’s lips twitched, then flattened. “I can’t be gay.”

“Why not? Dude, it’s not exactly a choice. It’s who you are.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But even if I was, it doesn’t mean I have to act on the impulse. Plenty of gay men stay in the closet, marry women, and have families.”

And are completely miserable their entire lives.

“Plenty of gay men leave the closet, marry men, and have families. Marriage is for all of us now, or didn’t you get the memo?”

Jonas drew his knees to his chest, as if needing his legs to shield himself.

Tate shifted a little closer. “Are you scared of what your parents will think?”

Bingo. Jonas dropped his forehead onto his knees, but not before Tate caught the flash of pain in his eyes.

“They won’t accept it, will they?” Tate asked.

Jonas shook his head. Tate’s heart broke for him.

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Excerpt & Giveaway: #Player by Cambria Hebert

Title: #Player

Series: Hashtag Series

Author: Cambria Hebert

Genre: NA Contemp/College Romance

Release Date: March 9, 2015

Players gotta play.

Hate is like a poison. It contaminates everything.

So does doubt.

Even though I deny what I overheard, even though I insist it isn’t true, the seed of doubt has been planted. I can’t help but be tormented with the endless what-if’s that have taken over our lives.

Romeo and I were happy in love. The future stretched before us brighter than any star in the darkest sky. Now everything is broken. Literally broken. Romeo’s entire career is at stake, my entire future is threatened… and my past?

It’s coming back to haunt me.

To haunt us.

Romeo says we’re in this together and right now the only sure thing is us. But how far can a love so new be pushed? The lengths we will have to go to save each other puts everything at risk.

Romeo is a #player but how much of the game can one person play?

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Cambria Hebert is a bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. 

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house). 

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: Text, Torch, Tryst, Masquerade, and Recalled.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC. Email: cambriahebert@rocketmail.com

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Cover Reveal & Excerpt: Smother by Lindy Zart

Title: Smother
By: Lindy Zart
Cover by: Cover to Cover Designs - https://www.facebook.com/CoverToCoverDesign
Expected release date: May 21, 2015
Add to your TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23657398-smother
Book trailer: https://animoto.com/play/lHFDzGy61Ge36SO0BfEY8w
Genre: Dark NA, Romantic Suspense

Blurb: 

You won't like me.
I am not the nice girl.
I am not your friend.
I don't care about you, but most of all, I don't care about me.
Go ahead, hate me.
We all have secrets.
I have them as well—dark, terrible secrets.
The only time I can breathe is when I forget.
I need to be numb. You don't want to know how.
But as long as I can breathe, the past cannot smother me.

Excerpt:

Her head was throbbing and her mouth tasted like sandpaper. As she walked, she looked up and saw the one person she’d rather not. Even so, her steps lightened, like she was relieved to see him, like he could make it all okay. Save her, redeem her. Wash away the bad. Make her good. Remove the last few hours from her soul.

He was leaving the apartment building as she was stumbling toward it, his stride determined. Her shoes scraped against the pavement and his head shot up, his slate-colored eyes locking on her and taking the air from her lungs. They both paused, lost in what they were looking at. She couldn’t breathe, struck by the sheer power of him, the way he held himself, the look on his face. He could be deadly if he wanted to be, she saw that. There was a dangerous element to him that could be ignored due to his quiet nature. It sent a thrill—part excitement, part fear—down her back.

Ryan honked the horn before peeling away. She flinched at the sound, looking away from Leo, but not before catching his unwavering stare on the sports car as it sped down the street. Her skin was crawling, her insides raped even though she’d never told them no. She wanted to cry, needed to hide.

She didn’t stay immobile long, swaying when a light, chilling breeze pushed at her. The bathing suit was dampening her shirt with cold wetness and she shivered. His eyes darkened as he looked her over, seeing all she’d rather he didn’t. Her crimes were not visible, but even so, he knew them. She wanted to hide from him at the same time she wanted his arms around her so that she could hide from herself, from those men, from every man but him. Nothing about her made sense.

His jaw went tight. “Who’s that?” he ground out.

“No one,” she answered, wanting it to be true. She never wanted Leo to know those men. She wanted to forget them as well.

His mouth pulled down as he studied her. She swore he could see each place they touched her—that he knew what they’d done to her even though she’d never tell a soul.

“Am I fired?” she asked slowly, wishing the drugs would clear completely from her brain, even if just for this conversation.

“Want to be?”

She swallowed, looking down without answering.

Yes.

No.

“Hurting yourself.”

Heat flooded her skin and she snapped her head up to glare at him. “No. I’m not.” I do this to stop hurting.

He moved toward her and she straightened, keeping her gaze on his. His mouth pulled down. “Do things to fly, but you always fall.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, her eyes stinging.

“We all fall, eventually.”

Excerpt & Giveaway: Sparrow Way by Annie Rose Welch

 Sparrow Way

by Annie Rose Welch

 

 The final journey of the Saving Angels series has come to an end. All roads have led you to….

“What’s the address?” she asks.“Eleven Sparrow Way.”She closes her eyes for a moment. “I like that. Our journey has flown us here, flown us home….”Gabriel Roberts found his happily ever after at The Crossroads of his life. He found his brother, Michael, his history in the Legion, and the love of his life, his Evangeline. He has finally arrived at the place he always yearned for—home.But time stops for no one; not even an angel.For years Gabriel has guarded what is most precious to him, Evangeline and their transcendent love story. When the opportunity presents itself in an unexpected way, Gabriel decides to tell his story, and in doing so, answers the riddle of his heart: If life is the journey of years, perhaps love is the journey of a lifetime?

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Excerpt, Guest Post & Giveaway: Beneath The Skin by Amy Lee Burgess

I'm happy to welcome author Amy Lee Burgess today!  

The Inspiration Behind Beneath The Skin

At the time of Hurricane Katrina, I lived in New Orleans. I evacuated with my (now ex) husband, four cats and two computer towers. We never went back. I’d written since I was about ten years old, but I’d gone into a long hiatus during the New Orleans years. Stranded in Houston, a city very different than New Orleans, I went into what I now suspect was a bout with depression spiced with PTSD.

After we made the decision not to go back to New Orleans, I couldn’t seem to bond with my new city. I started writing again. About vampires. Time that had dragged and seemed soaked with futility now rushed past at blinding, glorious speed. By the time I looked up, almost a year had passed and I had eight novels. (None of them remotely publishable!)

My heroine, Anabel, was my touchstone and my lifeline in an increasingly changing world. My marriage broke up and I found myself alone for the first time since I left my childhood home. I was down to two cats by this point and I wanted Anabel’s story to keep going and going and going.

Friends convinced me to post the novels by installment on my LiveJournal. I started getting feedback and decided to rewrite starting from the second novel on. More time passed with me plunged into Anabel’s life.

I’d never seriously thought about publishing. The task seemed Herculean and my fragile sense of self and ego was so afraid of being crushed by rejection. I had an editor friend who invited me to submit something to her but not my vampire novel because she’d read some of it and knew the series was too long, too tangled, too free form. Okay, she didn’t tell me all that except for the too long part but after publishing the Wolf Within series I can look back and see for myself that Anabel was never destined to be published.

The shortest of Anabel’s novels, the first one, clocked in at over two hundred thousand words. And they just kept getting bigger and longer every novel.

Another friend, a writer, issued a challenge around this time – participate in NaNoWriMo. Thirty days to write fifty thousand word didn’t seem like much of a feat to me. Ha. But writing a fully articulated novel with a beginning, middle, and most importantly, an ending did seem like something I needed to do. I set my goal to write an entire novel in less than one hundred thousand words over the thirty days of November. And I would submit it for publication and see what happened.

I had to set Anabel aside for the first time in five years. Five years! Where had the time gone?

I didn’t know what I was going to write about, but I knew what I wasn’t going to write about. Vampires.

I’d been reading some Patricia Briggs novels at that point and a couple of other shifter novels. I’d always loved wolves and so I decided my NaNoWriMo novel would feature wolf shifters. Beyond that I had no idea.

First person POV? Third? I fretted for days before November 1st. The Anabel novels were written in third person with shifting POVs among the main characters yet my first love was always to write in first person. So a few days before November I decided that’s what I would do. I would write about a wolf shifter from the first person POV. But who was she? What did she look like? What was her name?

Halloween night I went to bed after setting my alarm so I could get up at 5 a.m. and start my shifter novel. I still had no idea who my heroine was. I fell asleep.

November 1st, around four-thirty in the morning I woke ahead of my alarm with a name circling around in my brain. Stanzie. What the hell kind of name was that? I knew my heroine’s name was Stanzie but, damn it, she had to have an actual real name. Stanzie had to be a nickname. But from what name would you get Stanzie?

Anastasia? Yeah, but Stanzie came from New England. Wait. What? She does? It seemed I had dreamed of her but I couldn’t recall anything but her name and now that she came from New England. (That made sense since I come from New England I can write about that region because I know it.)

Anastasia sounded like a foreign woman’s name and Stanzie needed something less haughty, something more Puritan. Like Hope or Faith or Charity or…Constance! You could get to Stanzie from Constance!

I leaped out of bed – much to the dismay of my cats – and ran to my keyboard. Stanzie was a real person to me now, albeit one I didn’t know yet.

So I sat down behind my computer and I could see Stanzie sleeping in a small single bed in a Paris hotel room. She was dreaming..about her wolf finding one of her bond mates. Dead.

Run. Run, run, run. Scared. Littles hide, no scrape legs, no make noise. Wind no push things. Fur stick up. Me scared. Me follow scent. Her. Me love Her. See big hard thing. Pushed in. Black water drip, drip, drip. Blood. Smell blood. Drip, drip, drip. Scared. See Her. See Her in big hard thing. Her two legs now. Her eyes no see Me. Look up to Big Shiny and little shinies. No see. Smell blood. Smell Her. No hear beat thing. No hear blood move under skin. Her no move no more. Her gone. Me look up see Big Shiny. Me cry loud.

From that dream Stanzie’s past was born. She was in Paris to attend a Gathering of wolf packs so she could find a new bond mate. Hers Grey and Elena, were killed in a car crash and she’d been driving. Everyone in her old pack blamed her – said she’d been drinking. But Stanzie didn’t remember the accident that way. Had it been her fault ll or maybe there was some other more sinister cause?

I finished the novel, Beneath the Skin, in eleven days.

If you could shift into a wolf, what would you discover about yourself?
Two years after the deaths of her bond mates, Constance Newcastle is ready to start over. The problem? The rest of the Great Pack, gathered in Paris to shift into wolves together, is not so sure she deserves the chance. Although the Great Council ruled the car crash an accident, even Constance blames herself. She was driving, after all.
Treated like a pariah by those she longs to rejoin, Constance reunites with an old lover. Everything looks promising until he mysteriously dies. Accused of his murder and desperate to clear her name, Constance joins forces with handsome, confident Liam Murphy, a former Alpha pack leader with a past as tragic and troubled as her own. Guided by the mysterious Councilor Jason Allerton, Constance and Liam discover they are not alone– throughout the Great Pack, people are dying. Can all the deaths be accidents, or is something more sinister going on?
CONTENT WARNING: Vulgar language, some sexual situations

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Excerpt

Run. Run, run, run. Scared. Littles hide, no scrape legs, no make noise. Wind no push things. Fur stick up. Me scared. Me follow scent. Her. Me love Her. See big hard thing. Pushed in. Black water drip, drip, drip. Blood. Smell blood. Drip, drip, drip. Scared. See Her. See Her in big hard thing. Her two legs now. Her eyes no see Me. Look up to Big Shiny and little shinies. No see. Smell blood. Smell Her. No hear beat thing. No hear blood move under skin. Her no move no more. Her gone. Me look up see Big Shiny. Me cry loud. * * * * When I jerked awake, a smothered scream on my lips, the digital clock on the nightstand read five thirty-two in the morning. I rolled over and reached out instinctively for the reassuring warmth of Grey’s body, but of course he wasn’t there. He never would be there again. Two years, I told myself as I threw back the covers of the single bed in a small, unfamiliar Paris hotel room and staggered for the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. The dregs of the dream slipped away under my fingertips as I massaged my cheeks and forehead, blond hair spilling over my shoulders into the wet stream of the water. My hair was getting long. Two years, I told myself again, bitterness twisting my face. I scowled into the mirror and saw my own reflection–as familiar to me as anything in the world. I thought of the wind, the trees at night, the scent of the pine needles embedded in the soft earth of the forest. Everything conspired to create a wall between me and the rest of the world. I hadn’t connected with anything or anyone for so long I barely remembered what it felt like not to be alone. My thirty-second birthday had come and gone three months earlier. Once upon a time there would have been a celebration. Grey and Elena would have been there with me. Presents. Cake. Instead I’d sat in a dark theater and watched a horror movie while secretly envying all the couples who sat around me. When I saw people in love, a strange, isolating ache gripped my whole body. Two years, I told my reflection in the mirror. Grey used to tell me I was beautiful. He loved to trace the contours of my face with his fingers–my high cheekbones, my full mouth, my eyelids and forehead. Even my nose, which I thought was too big but he pronounced elegant. Ha. He was the elegant one with his sensitive mouth and long, thin fingers. A poet’s face. Hollow cheeks, dreamy eyes. Elena had been the beauty in my opinion. Blond, like me, only hers was so fair it was nearly white. The milky translucence of her skin made me think of women in castles in the medieval days, women who stayed behind the castle walls and never saw the sun because of the feuds and fights their men waged for them. Grey and Elena–my bond mates, my lovers, my friends. There had also been Jonathan, Nora, Callie, Vaughn and Peter. Grandfather Tobias. My pack. Two years ago, that is. When everything stopped.

About The Author

Amy Lee Burgess is a transplanted New Englander living in Houston, Texas with two dogs and lots of DVDs. In an attempt to bond with the city after being forced out of New Orleans post-Katrina, she turned to her writing. Determined to finally finish that novel she’d been hacking away at since high school, Amy managed to come up with a wolf shifter character named Stanzie Newcastle. She and Stanzie have been BFFs ever since.

In addition to Stanzie, Amy has also forged a relationship with several vampires, a witch or two, and other assorted supernatural creatures she hopes will entertain her readers. But she will always have room for coffee and butterscotch squares with Stanzie.

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Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Giveaway: Only For You by Marquita Valentine

Title: Only For You (Boys of the South ~ Book 2)
Author: Marquita Valentine
Release: September 10, 2013
Genre: Contemporary
Age Group: New Adult
Cover designed by: Marquita Valentine

Summary:

Loose ends left loose for too long tend to strangle.
Cole and Violet knew it wouldn’t be easy. They knew their relationship would take work. But when the press finds out about Violet Lynn’s newest boyfriend, they start digging. And when his past comes to light, exposing all of his family’s secrets, their relationship begins to fray.
Country Music’s Golden Boy, Jaxon Hunter, has it all, except the girl that got away. What she saw, she really didn’t. What she thought happened, he allowed her to believe for reasons so insane that no one would ever have believed him if he had confessed. But now that everything’s out in the open, he’s going to do his damndest to convince her that he’s the only one for her.
Now Violet must choose between Jaxon— her first love and the guy she thought had cheated on her—and Cole—the guy who helped her heal and love again.
Or will one of them make the decision for her?

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Excerpt:


“You’re right… it’s my name I remember her moaning.” Jaxon grunts. “My bad.” “Don’t do it, Cole,” Rae whispers. “Too late,” I mutter and launch myself at him. We fall against the wall in the hallway, both of us getting in good hits. His fist smashes into my mouth, blood filling it before I spit it out. “PARKER,” Rae screams. “Come help your brother.” “See,” I pant, and then grunt when he lands another punch to my gut. “She’s worried about me.” This time his fist lands in my eye. “Fuck you.” My eye swells shut, only having just recovered from a previous black eye when I decided that cage fighting had sounded like a fun way to make money and exorcise my demons. Obviously, I don’t always make the best decisions. “Not your hands, Jaxon,” Rae wails. “You can’t play if you break them on his face.” “Looks like you’re not the,” he grunts as my knee connects with his thigh. Damn, he’s fast, “only one she’s worried about.”

About The Author:

New York Times Bestselling Author, Marquita Valentine, writes sexy heroes that make you swoon and sassy heroines that make you laugh. She’s the author of the bestselling contemporary romance series, Holland Springs, and the new adult romance series, Boys of the South.

Marquita met her husband aka Hot Builder at Sonic when they were in high school. She suggests this location to all of her single friends in search of a good man—and if that doesn't work, they can console themselves with cheesy tatertots. She lives in North Carolina in a very, very small town with Hot Builder and their two children.

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