Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Book Spotlight and Giveaway: Summer Fire Anthology
by Gennita Low, Stacey Mosteller, R.J. Lewis, L. Wilder, Victoria Danann, Kym Grosso, Cat Miller, Mimi Barbour, Clarissa Wild, Teresa Gabelman, Linda Barlow, Helen Scott Taylor, Victoria James, Mona Risk, Patrice Wilton, Joan Reeves, Danielle Jamie, Terri Marie, Lorhainne Eckhart , Brandy L. Rivers, Nicole Blanchard
NOTE: The book is on sale for $0.99!
21 ALL NEW Contemporary Romance stories by NY Times, USA Today, and National Bestselling authors.
Love when it’s hot? So do we. Especially when we’re writing about gritty alphas, angsty bad boys, sizzling attraction, and unrequited passion. Turn the fan to oscillate and join us for this steamy, groundbreaking bundle of summer tales that are hot hot hot.
from "A Season in Gemini" by Victoria Danann
Garland pulled up in front of her building, grabbed the rolling suitcase with essential stuff, smiled at Max, the doorman, and gave him the car keys so that he could have the car parked in a two thousand dollars per month garage spot nearby. She might not use it again for weeks, or even months, but it was nice to know she could.
“I’m home!” She took a deep breath and called out to anyone who might be in the flat. Since it was Sunday that would probably be either her father or no one.
She walked the length of the kitchen and beyond to a small, but elegant and sunny breakfast room that overlooked Central Park and was rarely seen by anyone other than the two living St. Germaines and staff.
“I say, ‘I’m home!’”, she repeated as she flopped into a chair opposite where her dad was having coffee and reading the paper.
David St. Germaine looked over the top of the Wall Street Journal. “So I see.”
“Wow. Welcome home.”
He slid a section of the Sunday Times toward where she sat across the glass top table. “I second the ‘wow’.”
Before looking down at whatever he wanted her to see, she could tell that he was the farthest thing from happy. When she’d seen him two days before at graduation, he’d been delighted. He and his date for the day. Garland didn’t remember her name. There was no point. Her father rarely saw women more than once.
On the cusp of fifty, he was still handsome, with a little silver above his ears and a tan that never faded completely because he made a point of sailing twice a month, when weather and business permitted. He’d been referred to as ‘eligible bachelor’ in the, ahem, society pages more than once, but Garland doubted the veracity of that claim. Since her mother’s death, he hadn’t given anyone reason to think he was ‘eligible’.
Garland tore her eyes away from his scowl, not his most attractive expression, to look at the paper in front of her. The front and center color image was none other than herself wearing a short sparkly dress that had ridden far too high as she fell backwards spilling a colorful beverage when she went sprawling into the laps of laughing friends.
The headline read, “Germane Enterprises Princess Out on the Town. Daddy’s little girl lets her hair down and her skirt up.”
As she stared at the page, her father said, “Nice dress,” in a tone dripping with sarcasm.
Without looking up, she said quietly, “We were just having some fun. We just graduated…”
“How many times have I told you that what you do reflects on me? And, by extension, on Germane Enterprises?”
She met his glare. “Thousands.”
“That’s right! Thousands. You would think a girl capable of graduating Dartmouth summa cum laude would get it after mere dozens of times.”
From "Killer" by Clarissa Wild
Never in my life did I think I would be the prime suspect in my husband’s murder. But looking back at the choices I made, it’s not so strange that people think I’m a killer.
I’m not as innocent as I portray myself. Looks can be deceiving.
However, I won’t go down for this. Not when I don’t deserve it.
I should’ve known it would end up this way. That man … Phoenix Sullivan … The moment I saw that deadly gaze in his eyes, the dark way he looked at me, I knew I was in trouble.
And something tells me there’s more where that came from.
This game of catch won’t be ending any time soon.
Look at her, in her fancy white dress, with her fake blonde curls, and that sweet, deliciously fake smile. Don’t you just want to fuck that pretentious smile off her face? I do. And I will.
She has no idea what’s coming for her. Or her husband.
You see, I’m not a nice person. When I have my eyes set on something, I do it. In this case, it’s killing the man she’s married to. She probably won’t like it, but that’s not my problem. She’s not my target … and she’d better not turn herself into one.
I’m here with a purpose, and nothing stands between me and my goal. Not even a pretty girl with an ass worth fucking. Nobody stands in my way, and if they do, they die.
Too bad for her I’m like a fucking canon, and when I shoot, shrapnel flies everywhere. If she gets caught in the fire, that’s on her.
When I want something, I’m going to get it, no matter the price. Whether it’s killing someone, or fucking her.
She wants justice, I’ll give her justice … my justice.
I bet she isn’t willing to pay the price.
Too bad for her I always win.
From "Summer Rhythm" by Brandy L. Rivers
Intending to head for the bar, Chloe got lost in a daydream when she stepped through the door. A familiar song caught her attention. Glancing up, her gaze locked on her biggest regret.
Molten brown eyes, shaggy brown hair, perfectly curved lips twisted in a sinful smirk. That sexy mouth, and talented fingers—and damn, the man could play an instrument. Nearly any.
Smoldering eyes locked on hers for a brief second, igniting hope. Then his brow furrowed as he looked away. Closing his lids, Doug Walsh threw himself into the music like he wanted to banish her from his mind. She couldn’t blame him.
Her desire was a cruel twist of fate. He was even hotter than the last time she saw him, eight years ago. A twinge of guilt thrummed through her and she turned, with the intention of walking out the door.
Someone looped their arm through hers and dragged her toward the bar.
“Thought I mentioned your favorite mistake was playing tonight,” Jackie sing-songed. They’d been best friends since kindergarten. As much as Chloe loved her, Jackie was going to torture her.
She didn’t want to think about the way she’d let Doug in, only to shut him out the next morning. Not once, but twice.
Hopeless, she looked over. “If you had, I wouldn’t have come.”
With a dejected sigh, she climbed onto a stool and dropped her chin into her hand. Nodding at the bartender, she ordered, “Long Island, please?”
Bartender dipped his head in acknowledgement.
Jackie nudged her. “Why not? Clearly you’re still hung up on him. I saw your reaction.”
“He probably hates me.”
“Nah. He never let it slow him down.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you saying Doug turned into a man-whore?”
Jackie’s brow scrunched. “Not exactly. Though he doesn’t have a problem picking up women.”
“That’s karma for you.” Chloe turned to find her drink. Tracing the disposable coaster, she took a sip from the tall glass before asking, “Why did you invite me here?”
“Figured it would be like old times. Only without having to sneak into bars.”
Chloe giggled. “What the hell. He’s already seen me and the worst he can do is ignore my sorry ass.”
A smirk lifted one corner of Jackie’s mouth as she looked to the stage. “Doubt he’ll ignore you long. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
One randomly drawn commenter will receive a $25 Amazon/BN Gift Card.
a Rafflecopter giveaway