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Forever Marked

Marked Series; Book 1

Published: August 19, 2016

Published by: Jesse Lorenzo

Blurb:

At only 23 years old, Ellora’s life is turned upside down. She captures the unwanted attention of a dangerously ruthless man who’ll stop at nothing until he possesses her. Haunted by nightmares of the brutal attack she barely survived, Ellora flees the country desperate to hide. But the longer she runs the deeper his obsession grows.

Behr is a hard working bachelor whose life is stuck on repeat. That is until a beautiful stranger stumbles into the local pub and into his heart. Even though he is immediately drawn to her raven black hair and deep green eyes, he knows she’s hiding a secret. One he’s determined to uncover.

Can Ellora stay safe in this small harbor town?

Or has the twisted game of cat and mouse just begun?

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Excerpt:

Ellora raced down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her. Dread gripped her when she heard his heavy footsteps pounding on the hardwood floors behind her. His powerful presence echoed around the eerily empty house. It didn’t matter how fast she ran; he was always right on her heels.

Her body quaked violently when she made it to the stairs. If she couldn’t make it out of there, she’d never survive. Reaching out, Ellora gripped the railing with both hands and used the leverage to fly down the steps. He thundered down after her. The smell of his rancid panting breath snaked its way over her shoulder. The stench stung her nose. Ellora risked looking back, finding his large black eyes, vicious with a murderous rage zeroing in on his prey. He was close enough to grab her.

Her heart hammered inside her chest painfully as it worked hard to push her broken body to its limits. Her ears throbbed as he screamed out her name.

Oh my God, this is it. He reached out… And…

Ellora shot upright in her bed, crying out. Her weary body trembled violently as the all too real images continued to torment her. She swiped at her tear-stained cheeks with weak hands.

Unspeakable memories played out in her mind, gripping the sheets tighter, Ellora curled up into a ball and sobbed. After what felt like an hour, the emotionally wrecked girl stumbled out of bed on shaky legs.

“I might as well stay up,” she mumbled to herself.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep with her heart still pounding the way it was. She sauntered over to her large opened window, glancing out at the breathtaking view along the harbor. Ellora watched as the sun came up casting pink hues through her pale yellow curtains.

The rising sun, a bright burnt orange, looked as though it was climbing right out of the sea. The frothy waves gently rolled to shore, still cold looking from the long winter months. The peaceful rhythmic motions calmed her erratic heart.

Ellora tore her eyes away from the dark blue waters, seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, glancing down at the large man walking out of the pub one floor below. It was Behr.

He stopped mid-stride on the sidewalk, deep in thought. After a few moments, he turned and looked up at her window. He seemed shocked at first, seeing her looking down on him. Behr’s eyes warmed over, a big beautiful smile lit up his features as he took her in.

Lifting his hand in greeting, the large man winked at her flirtatiously. Ellora felt brave enough to openly stare at him from the safety of the second story window. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, Behr was a magnificent man to look at.

What was she going to do with this burly guy who’d barged into her life? She couldn’t wait to find out.

Beyond Redemption

Marked Series; Book 2

Published: February 29, 2016

Published by: Jesse Lorenzo

Blurb:

What happens when malicious acts change your path in destiny?

Giddeon Cane has become blinded by his obsessive need to find the twisted monsters who've destroyed his life, and exact his wrath.

An unexpected and devastating revelation throws him back into his painful past. Tormented by sins that can never be forgiven, he breaks down and comes face to face with an Angel.

Determined to pull Giddeon out of the darkness where he dwells, Eva fights to give him back his future, a future she desperately needs to be a part of.

Will Giddeon choose the revenge he's fought so long for?

Or will he choose the Angel who seeks to redeem him?

Purchase Links:

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Excerpt:

Behr rose to stand, the soft light from the lamp posts on the pier outside trickled through the window, illuminating beautifully around his immense and imposing frame. His keen eyes explored the exquisite beauty that lay sprawled out… waiting for him.

Clutching a fistful of fabric, Behr pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. When his eyes found hers, he was astonished when longing burned hot and bright in Ellora’s eyes. She gazed up at him in the most intimate and vulnerable way, that expression nearly pushed him over the edge. He wanted her in the worst way.

Behr dragged his pants zipper down its track, letting them fall open in a painstakingly slow fashion, as if testing her level of comfortability, but succeeded only in heightening the tension. It hung thick and heavy in the air between them.

There he stood in all his glory, wearing nothing but the thin fabric of his boxer briefs, putting to shame any statue ever carved of the powerful Roman gladiators. Ellora’s heart pounded inside her chest in anticipation as the bed dipped under his impressive weight as he crawled his way over to her.

Hovering over his raven haired beauty, he carefully gauged her reaction to his close proximity. Seeing his hesitation, Ellora pulled him impossibly close, desperately needing to quench the overwhelming need to have his arms wrapped around her.

Behr ran his work-roughened hands up and down her quivering back, trying his best to sooth her. “I’m right ‘ere, love. Always right ‘ere by your side. Nothing can keep me from you. I’m yours for the night.”

Dalton waited until he was sure they were both completely asleep. He crept out of the shadows of his hiding place. He had been waiting there for the last few hours, watching, biding his time, to finally catch a moment alone with Ellora… waiting for the bastard to leave.

His intention was to act upon every fantasy he’s clung to since arriving in this town. Dreaming of doing exactly what that deplorable man was lucky enough to do right now. Dalton’s need to feel her soft body pressed against his, to savor her full lips, made his need to take her escalate to unbelievable heights.

His blind obsession with this girl clouded the reasonable side of his brain. Dalton had an overwhelming craving to slit the bastards throat while he slept for touching her, but the thought of staining her porcelain skin with his repulsive, filthy blood stopped him from going through with the task.

He would enact Behr’s inevitable downfall soon enough. He would come to Ellora on another night. the next time, he would definitely be alone with her. The smell of her delicate perfume beckoned to him, drawing Dalton closer to the Vulnerable young girl.

Dalton needed to taste her lips before he left. He needed this. Just one caress from her delicious mouth and he’d leave. The snake crawled out from the protection of the shadows and inched his way closer to her sleeping form. He stalked across the old wood surface until he hovered over her bed.

His sinister smile grew as he stared down at her tempting body. That smile faded when his eyes adjusted on the ingrate’s arm wrapped protectively around the woman who belonged to him. Dalton kneeled down, settling a mere inches from her face.

“Soon, my love. Soon I will feel the heat of your body wrapped tight around mine. Soon, you will be mine…”

About the Author:

Jesse Lorenzo (formerly Lady J) is a romantic suspense writer and author of The Marked Series. Her debut novel, Forever Marked, released in August of 2015 and the rest is history.

She was born and raised in Central New York. This is where she met, fell in love with, and married her husband, in what can only be described as a whirlwind romance. Together, with nothing but the clothes on their backs, they forged an adventure across the country to sunny Arizona.

Now, Jesse spends her days raising her three beautiful daughters, and two fur babies... Her nights belong to writing and the creation of exciting new worlds.

Self proclaimed coffee connoisseur, lover of all book genres, camping, shooting, and all things outdoorsy.

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The Crimson Tree

8/17/2016

The Crimson Tree

Disembodied voices. Apparitions. Waking nightmares. Strange occurrences are happening with increased intensity and Carly cannot escape what is tormenting her. With little proof and little support, she is losing everything in her life: her fiancé, friendships, and her sanity. Can Carly uncover what caused the supernatural derailing of her life? Can she ever get rid of her ghostly tormentor, or is she doomed to be haunted indefinitely? Determined to stop these frightening events, she has to do whatever she can to regain control of her life before things take a deadly turn. Release date: September 1st CrimsonTree-wrap-web

Valerie Puri – Author Bio

Valerie Puri has always had a lifelong interest in all forms of artistic expression. She has tried her hand at many things, yet she always finds her way back to reading and writing. With inspiration everywhere, Valerie finally put pen to paper (or rather, fingers to keyboard) with the intent of publishing her stories. Writing has always come naturally to Valerie, and for a time she even worked as a technical writer. This experience and her current day job of project manager helps Valerie continue to hone her writing skills. Her true passion lies in the freedom that comes with writing the stories that pour from her imagination and real life inspiration. Valerie believes that the experiences we have in life are just stories waiting to be written.

Follow Valerie

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Eva and the Monster Who Stole All the Hugs

8/14/2016

A colorful lonely monster. A little girl with a big heart. A whirlwind adventure! Oh, no! The loneliest monster in town has stolen all the hugs and kisses for himself! When six-year-old Eva and her friends discover what's happened they embark on a journey to find the missing hugs! Along the way, they'll discover what it means to love and never give up. Can they make friends with the blue cuddly monster and show him what friendship is all about? Release Date August 24th

Buy on Amazon - Paperback / Kindle

Eva Cooper lives in Danvers, MA with her parents and two cats. She is very creative and loves to draw and write stories. When she grows up she wants to be a fashion designer, teacher, and astronaut. Follow her on Amazon

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Back to School Blast

8/10/2016

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Nightlord: Sunset

8/7/2016

Fantasy / Epic Fantasy

Date Published: September 2014

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Eric didn't ask to be a vampire. In fact, he didn't even believe in them. Then he hooks up with a hot babe, wakes up with a hangover, and bites his tongue with his own fangs.

Which pretty much settles the question.

Now he's trying to hold down his day job while learning the rules of the Undead -- the most important being that bloodthirsty urges and predatory instincts are a real bitch.

Upside; Eric has the beautiful Sasha to teach him the ropes, including the magic he'll need to survive.

Downside; they're being hunted by members of the Church of Light, who are determined to rid the world of vampires.

Then Sasha is killed, and Eric is thrust into an alternate world in his quest to avenge her death. There he becomes a Nightlord, fights a dragon with the help of his magical steed, Bronze, and upchucks a sword named Firebrand.

But things get really interesting when Eric finally finds Tobias, head of the Church of Light. Soon Eric finds himself at the center of an epic battle at the literal edge of the world in a fight to keep a terrible darkness at bay.

In other words, just another day in the life of the Nightlord.

"When you fall off the Edge of the World into hordes of demonic Things from the Outer Darkness, you really start to wonder if you haven't made some mistakes." --Eric, part-time undead, expectant father, and short-term astronaut.

Other Books in the Nightlord Series:

Published: August 2015

“I’ve awakened in a stone box about the size of a large coffin… I’m filthy, everything aches, and, by the various so-called gods, I smell awful.

“I’ve woken up in worse places.

“Hmm. What does that say about my life choices?” —Eric, amateur magician, part-time vampire, and accidental king.

It's not easy, being King. Especially when you've got an allergy to sunrise and sunset, a fire-goddess for a mother-in-law, demonic adversaries, random assassins, and a basement full of insecurities to cope with.

Add to that his daughter, the fire-priestess/princess, a couple of lightly-deranged professional magicians, a whole city full of wizards, and enough squabbling princes to resemble a kindergarten argument.

It's enough to make a man want to just go home.

Luckily for Eric, he has the world's fastest pet rock, a smart-mouthed sword, and a horse that not only understands him, but likes him anyway.

“An awful lot of young ladies seem to be up all night, wandering around the halls on the off-chance they’ll bump into the King when he’s in the mood for a snack. Since when did I become sexy? And why didn’t anybody warn me it was going to be work?” —Eric, elder geek and occasional idiot.

Published: May 2016

We all have inner demons. We fight them all the time. Some of us achieve inner peace by coming to terms with them.

But how do you come to terms with inner demons that tear free and become outer demons?

Eric has been a vampire for nearly a century, and his demons are more than metaphors. While they controlled him, he was the Demon King. Now he has to avoid the monsters in his own mind, as well as angry nobles, fanatical religions, assassins, magi, other vampires, criminal organizations, and the neighborhood gossip.

He wants two things: To find Tort, and to have someplace to call home.

It may be too much to ask.

EXCERPT

I ignored the susurrus of voices, dashed up the avenue between the ruined monuments, and took the broad stairs before the door in three skipping jumps. The door itself was a carefully-balanced block of stone. It stood about eight feet tall and was perhaps twice that in width. Opening it required it to pivot around the center, its balance. Judging by the scrapes along the dusty portico, Tobias had found it no trouble at all. I, however, shoved on each side of the block in turn without result. Maybe he locked it.

I backed off, got a running start, and jumped. I kicked it with both feet, as high up as I could manage. Something snapped in the wall as I hit the door. I came to a sudden halt, thudding into the stone like a cannonball, then fell heavily to the dusty floor. I rolled to my feet awkwardly—Firebrand can be an annoyingly large chunk of metal—and was in time to watch the whole block of stone finish a slow, majestic topple inward. It landed flat with an echoing, tomb-door thud and sent up a huge cloud of white dust.

I was over that stone and past the cloud in an instant, dashing down a long tunnel before the echoes had finished. Directly ahead, far distant, I could see Tobias out in the open air. I came out of the mouth of the tunnel like the bullet from a gun.

The plaza was large. Two football games and a cricket match could have been held concurrently in that space—complete with spectators. The tunnel I exited was at the floor level of a grandly-curving amphitheater facing Tobias. All of this was scoured from rock and worn by years of use. The floor was also natural stone, cut only to smooth it down and level it. There was no roof at all.

Perhaps a quarter-mile away, the radius of the half-circle, Tobias had his back to me. Shada was lying naked on a slab of rock just beyond him. And beyond her…

The world ended.

I once wondered about the nature of the world I’m in. Is it round? Is it flat? Does it go around the Sun or vice versa?

The world is flat. Sure, it may be round—like a coin. But it has an edge, very real, and sharply defined. I know. I’ve seen it. At least that explained why my compass never found north.

Beyond that edge exists a gulf of yawning blackness, speckled here and there by the distant stars—or are they stars? I don’t know what they are. Maybe they’re just lights on the inside of a great sphere of crystal, or holes in that sphere to an even greater space that happens to be better illuminated. Maybe the stars are really angels with flaming swords and glowing halos.

Maybe they really are distant suns… but I doubt it.

Right up near the edge live the Things. I recognized a few from having seen them before. The rubbery monstrosity from the lab in Baret, along with the multi-tentacled creature that tried to eat me outside the gata camp. They had a bunch of brothers with them, along with a whole lot of more distant relations. There were hundreds, no, thousands of the Things in every shape and size imaginable—and many I wouldn’t choose to imagine without serious drugs. They seemed to have no gravity out there. They weren’t a flat crowd, but a wall, extending up and to the sides, as though they were all pressing against a barrier of glass, trying to get in. They were clustered most thickly near Tobias, thinner out away from him. All of them were fairly frothing at the mouth to pour from the outer darkness onto the stone floor of the world. They chattered and chittered, hissed and clacked and moaned. Their sounds were muted, as though there really was a barrier, but there was nothing to be seen holding them at bay.

Tobias was chanting. He had some tools in his hands—I couldn’t tell quite what, but one seemed to be a knife.

About the Author

Garon Whited was supposedly born in either 1969 or 1970; the original birth certificate is suspiciously unavailable and other records do not agree. After spending some years in college playing with computers, he finally joined a radical group of jellyfish herding nomads. Having fought zombie dolphins, quasi-corporeal spirits, and brain-sucking mole rats, he is uniquely qualified to write fantastic fiction. His subsequent attempts at professional salsa repairman and key line salesman met with similar success. He claims to live in Texarkana, on Earth, but people have been known to disagree.

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Shelter Me

8/6/2016

New Adult Romance, Romantic Suspense

Date Published: July 25, 2016

There are ghosts in my past—ghosts I can't recognize.

My painting heals me, but Lucas Caine has made me come alive. My past could take both those things away forever. What started out as an undeniable need to create was quickly turning into danger as my longing for memories fed the rough canvases I filled.

Falling for Lucas will force me to revisit my lost memories—and possibly lose myself, my art, and him in the process.

And now he has me skating the thin edge between desire and fear as I use a past I don’t remember to leverage a future I’m not sure I want.

(This is book 1 in a 3 book series. Book 2 will be available November 2016 & Book 3, January 2017)

EXCERPT

I absently tucked it into a loose braid over one shoulder while I studied the painting in front of me. I'd wanted to let Brayden pick the order, but he'd refused earlier that morning, and told me I was running out of time. At that memory, I murmured "Bastard" in his absence.

That's when a low, rough voice said, "People usually know me at least five minutes before calling me that."

Still on the floor, I whipped around to see the tall, brutally handsome man standing maybe ten feet away. How long had he been there? I hadn't heard him come in, but now that he was coming closer, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

The fight or flight response had remained intact when my memory hadn't. Everyone, every stranger wasn't necessarily a stranger. They could know me. They could be a part of my past.

Whether this man was or not, my base response to him was a purely physical one.

"The door was open," the man explained.

And it might've been. Brayden told me to lock myself in but I often forgot. Panic must have flashed across my face because he stopped advancing and held up his hands like a show of surrender. But he didn't try to tell me he was harmless, because he wasn't. Never could be. And the man who waited for him had moved too, turned his back in an effort to appear less threatening.

"My name's Lucas. I buy a lot of art from Brayden."

"Mine?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"I guess you'll have to try harder."

A smile ghosted across his chiseled face and I liked that. Wanted to see it more, wanted to be the one who could always bring a smile to his face.

These men could be here to harm me and I was too busy with my tongue hanging out to threaten them with the police.

Because you rely on your gut, Ryn, my therapist, foster mom and Brayden always told me. That will get you through just about any situation.

My gut said this man knew I was Ryn Taylor, artist, but didn't know anything beyond that about me except what he'd read in interviews. Maybe he was here for my art, or maybe it was for me. But how could I feel so connected to someone I'd just met?

Lucas.

I rolled the name around in my mind as my eyes took in the black leather motorcycle jacket and the tighter black T-shirt underneath…the worn-in jeans and the heavy black motorcycle boots. I saw the hint of an expensive watch peek out on his wrist as he came closer.

I knew too, if I pushed up those sleeves, I'd find some ink. Incongruous, and ultimately intriguing.

The angles of his face begged to be drawn, to be touched, and I held my hands down rigidly at my sides so I wouldn't do just that. "My show's not until tomorrow night," I managed.

"I know."

"Are you here to…" I looked around for Brayden, like he would magically appear and caught another glance of the other man by the door. "Are you here for Brayden?"

"For Brayden? No." His mouth quirked up to the side a little and he ran a hand through his dark blond hair. It was long enough to curl a bit at the nape of his neck, and it was rumpled, like maybe he'd just rolled out of bed…and maybe he hadn't been alone.

"You're not his type."

His blue eyes pierced me. They were a dark blue and they missed nothing. "Whose type am I?"

Mine, I nearly blurted out. I was nervous, my stomach fluttering but not in that panicked way I recognized. Just the opposite, actually. Heat flooded me as he stared at me in my tank top and jeans with utmost appreciation, the frank gaze of someone who understood beauty and acted on it.

I wanted him to act, but at the same time, I needed him to stay away. I was too drawn to him, an electromagnetic pull that spun the earth on its axis differently. Something told me that I'd never get this man out of my life. I'd never be done with him, or him of me, and holy hell, that was a heady enough thought to make me dizzy.

I remained on my knees, stock still, looking up at him. I had the odd feeling that if I moved, even a little, I'd fall, trip, completely ruin the moment.

He gave me a heated look, and dammit, he knew what I was thinking.

Every woman who came into contact with him probably had that reaction. And that made me unnaturally, irrationally jealous because, in my mind, I'd already claimed him.

Finally, his gaze shifted to the paintings I'd been appraising. He focused on one that was part of a series that'd already sold well, thanks to Brayden. I'd wanted to call the series Man in Trees (and still did so) but Brayden told me it was creepy and insisted on simply, Catskills as the official series title. And while I could see what he meant, the person these were based on had never, ever scared me. But I couldn't tell Brayden these were based on someone real, because he'd freak out.

Even though I was building an entire series around him, I'd never seen the man's face. Still, I'd always sworn I'd be able to sense him the way I'd sensed him out there before I'd caught sight of the shadowed figure, and even though I hadn't been able to see his face clearly, I knew he was big, broad and utterly male. I'd wanted to walk across the lawn, strip him and paint him…and then climb him after I stripped myself.

When I'd shown Brayden the first picture, he'd insisted on bringing it to the gallery. I hadn't wanted that, but I'd felt foolish telling Brayden about why the painting was so special to me, why I wanted to keep it. He told me that if I was sentimental about my work, I'd never get anywhere. In the end, after a terrible fight, I agreed to let him show it in his gallery, but I'd have final say if it was to be sold.

It was stolen a week later.

I stared up at Lucas as he stared at my painting—the fourth in a collection of nine, not counting the missing first one, all attempts to recreate those initial feelings that had propelled me to paint the first one. His expression unshuttered for a brief moment, like he was letting me in, drawing me closer to the fire.

I couldn't afford to play with fire, but he was like the ghost of the man I thought I'd conjured up on that warm summer's night in the Catskills. I was seventeen, dizzy and half high from creating. I'd glanced over and watched him. He was half hidden among the trees and if I hadn't been coming off a painting, I would've been terrified. Instead, I noticed how handsome he was, chiseled and mysterious.

I dreamed about him that whole week, less as the years went by, but always when I needed comfort, or when I was coming out of the burn of my art.

He'd been there. He was now here. Could I have wanted him so badly that my dream turned into reality? A ridiculous thought and one I chided myself for.

Creation didn't work that way.

I tried to draw in a shaky breath when this ridiculously beautiful, rough man moved a few steps in my direction, even though he was still focused on the painting.

The walls were closing in on me until he said, "Your work is beautiful," and turned from me to the paintings.

What little space he'd given me let me breathe. Even though I swore his gaze heated me, the fact that he was pointing to various paintings soothed me.

"My first show is tomorrow," was all I could think of to say, even though it was probably obvious.

"Your work is ready."

Your work. Like he knew I wasn't. "I don't think I'll ever be."

He turned back to me then. "That's not a bad thing. Protect whatever the hell makes these."

What made those was a part of the nightmare of my blacked-out past. What if discovering what was behind it stole the art from me, left me limp, with nothing? What if I had to trade nightmares and the thing I loved for peace? That haunted me, so I'd chosen not to have peace.

I remained on the ground, drawn to him, wanting to rise but refusing to do so. Sheer stubbornness and self-preservation mixed together.

He reached a hand down to help me up but I couldn't touch him. Not yet.

I pushed myself up. He was at least six foot four to my five feet four inches. The difference was dramatic.

He was so still, a predator, watching me with keen interest. I'd never been as intensely aware of a man in my life. I could smell his skin, wanted to taste it, put my mouth on his and forget everything else, including basic human decency.

I blamed the art. The heat. My lack of proper nutrition.

I stuck out my hand without saying anything, almost a dare. He took it in his and my pulse beat a tattoo. I felt the slow burn and then the aftershock quake through my whole body.

There was a definite sense of street in him, a primal, easily willing and able to fight for his life street sense.

His eyes were haunted, like maybe he already had.

There was no doubt he'd won.

About the Author

Stephanie Tyler is the New York Times bestselling author of romance novels spanning multiple genres, including Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Paranormal Romance and Contemporary Romance.

She’s a hybrid author who writes for multiple publishers, including Random House, NAL/Penguin, Harlequin, Carina Press, Mammoth Books, Belle Books and Samhain Publishing, as well as Riptide (as SE Jakes) and indie publishing. Her books have been translated into half a dozen languages, nominated for an RT Readers’ Choice Award and garnered top picks from RT Magazine as well as starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She’s a frequent workshop presenter and has contributed stories for anthologies for charities, including SEAL of My Dreams, which has raised over 150K for the Veterans Medical Association.

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Shadows May Fall

8/5/2016

Never A Choice

8/4/2016

Erotic Romantic Suspense

Romantic: Hot Alpha, Billionaire Romantic Suspense

Date Published: March 2016

Bethany Thorne has secrets and she’s told a few lies but she’s hurt no-one. She just wants a better life, she works hard for a better life, a life with choices but a chance encounter at her new University with billionaire, hot alpha Daniel Stone makes her heart beat, her body tremble and rocks her very foundation. Reeling from the intensity of her unfathomable reactions to this man her world is sent further spiralling out of her control when on this first meeting he casually whispers that he knows she’s a liar. Bethany begins to feel her hard earned choices start to disintegrate before her.

Her innate and newly discovered submissive nature is highlighted further by her extreme reaction to each encounter with alpha Daniel Stone. Seriously hot, dark and dominant he evokes an instant heat and desire she has never felt before, but he is dangerous, he is powerful and he seems to see right through her. Choosing to try and stay under his radar proves to be the first choice to slip through her fingers.

Other Books in The Choices Trilogy

Published: April 2015

Dark and erotically demanding Daniel is everything and more, Bethany embraces the challenge of being with a man like Daniel whilst trying to come to terms with what he needs and what she can give him of herself. Is it ever going to be enough? Daniel consumes and possess every part of her, its intoxicating and seductive. Bethany needs to choose between being true to herself and the promises she made and being the type woman Daniel demands.

Published: June 2015

Bethany’s devastation is complete. Secrets, lies and impossible choices have torn her world apart but it is not the first time she has had to rebuild her world. So she’ll do it again...she has to.

When Bethany meets Daniel, she is backed into a corner and with the threat of losing even more she comes out fighting. Daniel quickly learns there is nothing quite as intoxicating as a woman with nothing left to lose and nothing quite as irresistible as his Bethany. But there are more games being played than either of them are truly aware and the winning prize is a coveted Happy Ever After.

About the Author

Dee Palmer hates talking about herself in the third person so I won't. My husband had my iPod engraved one Christmas with 'sing like no-one's listening' and I know my family actually wish they weren't listening because I am, in fact, tone deaf but it doesn't stop me and this gentle support has enabled me to fullfil a dream. This has been a truly brilliant experience. It has undoubtedly been made possible by my incredibly supportive family. I know this is very much another acknowledgment bit but I know I wouldn't be writing even this single paragraph if it wasn't for them so this is about who I am, I am because they let me be.

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Vampire Creed

8/2/2016

Wendy has to make a life-altering decision...

Publication Date: June 1st, 2016

Genre: New Adult, Paranormal Romance

Barnaby Blaine Rice was a Vampire born in the depression with a very special power to see who people truly were. After a long, empty existence of witnessing the darkest points of humanity, Blaine happens to encounter a beautiful married woman named Mary Slate. Unable to handle his love for the beautiful human, Blaine accidentally kills another Vampire over her and is put under a serious debt with the Vampire Council.

Blaine reluctantly forces himself to forget the woman and allows her to live her life without his intervention. It wasn’t until 50-years-later that the distant memories of the captivating Mary are brought back to the surface. Blaine has the pleasure to encounter the young Wendy Slate, granddaughter of Mary Slate after a criminal vampire keeps her hostage. Blaine got there in time to stop the criminal, but not to stop the beginning of Wendy’s transition into Vampirism.

As he was forced to sire her into this new world, he discovers that Wendy is the most amazing person he’d ever met. Wendy has to make a life-altering decision as Blaine has to deal with his blooming feelings for a woman who was identical to his first love. This modern love story introduces the most influential turning point of these lover’s lives.

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Rain Grey is a psychologist by profession. However, she has been writing books since she was fifteen years old. She loves anything supernatural and her favourite genres are vampire romance and ghost fiction. Her home in England is close to the town of Stratford Upon Avon, where William Shakespeare was born.

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Trouble Walks In

8/2/2016

Trouble Walks In (The McGuire Brothers, #2)

Trouble Walks In by Sara Humphreys

McGuire Brothers Series; Book 2

Published August 2, 2016

Published by: Sourcebooks Casablanca

Blurb:

Big city K-9 cop Ronan McGuire loves women, loves his dog, loves his job - but when old flame Maddy Morgan moves into his jurisdiction, he can’t think about anyone else.

Ronan knows she’s way out of his league, but he’s determined to help Maddy live life to the fullest.

Maddy has immersed herself in work and swiftly made a name for herself in the hot New York City real estate market. She’s looking for safety, not love, but Ronan McGuire is as persistent as he is sexy, and his crooked smile is hard to resist. But all other concerns are wiped away when Maddy goes missing and Ronan and his bloodhound K-9 partner are tasked with finding her and bringing her home.

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Excerpt:

Ronan McGuire loved women and until recently, he’d enjoyed a variety of them. All of that had changed when Maddy Morgan came roaring back into his life. The moment he’d laid eyes on her at his parent’s anniversary party last summer, it had been like a kick in the gut. She was as gorgeous as she’d been back in high school, and just as unattainable. As far as she’d been concerned, he had merely been the pesky brother of her best friend’s boyfriend.

Ronan would see her around town when he went home to visit over the years, but nothing had changed and she was still out of his reach. Maddy and Rick had been practically joined at the hip for years. Ronan was many things but home wrecker wasn’t one of them. Rick had been a good guy and he seemed to make Maddy happy, so that had been good enough for Ronan. He had never considered himself the jealous type but every time he saw the two of them together, the green-eyed monster would rear its ugly head.

When had he first fallen for her? If he had to nail it down, it was when she punched out Billy Hollibrand in the school parking lot. The woman was feisty—a take-no-shit kind of girl—and if you asked Ronan’s mother, that was exactly the type of woman he needed. Hollibrand had been the town bully and when Maddy moved there in ninth grade, Billy made the mistake of trying to push her around. The jerkoff made fun of her curly hair and grabbed her ass. Two seconds later the boy was on the ground nursing a bloody nose.

A smile curved Ronan’s lips at the memory.

“Yo, McGuire.” His Captain’s voice pulled him from his daydreaming. “You awake over there?”

Bowser was lying in his bed next to Ronan’s desk but lifted his head and turned his brown eyes toward Ronan when the Captain approached. If Ronan didn’t know better, he’d swear the dog was laughing at him.

“Wide awake, Cap.” Ronan adjusted his chair as Bowser settled his snout on his front paws again. “Can’t say the same for my partner.”

Bowser whined and made a snuffling sound before closing his eyes. Ronan couldn’t really blame the dog—he was pretty beat himself. They had gotten back-to-back calls from two of the precincts upstate. Not all of the counties in the state had K9’s, so he and Bowser helped out when necessary, lending a hand, or a paw, as needed.

Both cases had been high-stress with even higher stakes.

Luckily the little girl who had wandered away from her family’s campsite was found safely and so was the teenager who got separated from her friends on a hike.She must have been the only girl in the tri-state area who didn’t have a damn cell phone attached to her. Needless to say it had been long days and longer nights but luckily both searches ended with happy parents.

Captain Jenkins strolled over, hoisting his uniform pants over his belly. The guy might have been out of shape and only a couple years from retirement, but he was one of the best cops Ronan had worked with. Jenkins and his partner, Saratoga, a sweet bloodhound with wide caramel colored eyes, were in-house most of the time these days. Saratoga was retired, but like all K9s she would live out the rest of her days with her partner and his family—in Jenkins’ case, that was only him.

“Why are you and Bowser here?” Jenkins settled his hands on his hips and pointed at Bowser just as Saratoga sidled over and lay down next to her friend. “You two have been goin’ non-stop for the past three days. You should have taken today off, and you know it.”

“No can do, Cap.” Ronan hit a few buttons on the keyboard and printed out his report from the last search. “My brother is getting married in a few weeks and I’ll be out for a while. I’ll be using up the rest of my time for the year and I can’t risk not being able to go because I didn’t do my paperwork. I’m the best man, after all.”

“That you are, McGuire,” Jenkins said through a snort of laughter. “But all work and no play and you’re gonna end up like me and Sara, here. All we got is each other and this damn job. No wife, no kids. Just me and her.” He smiled at the aging bloodhound who currently had her head nestled on top of Bowser’s. “Ain’t that right, sweetie?”

The old girl whined in response but didn’t move.

“Seriously, McGuire,” Jenkins said, sitting in the chair in front of Ronan’s desk. “You coulda taken today, y’know. You sure as hell have enough time leftover.”

“Really, Cap.” Ronan shook his head and held up one hand. “I’m fine.”

“Right. You always are.” Jenkins’ mouth set in a thin line. “How’s your friend? Didn’t you say that your girlfriend, that realtor lady, knew the Bowman woman they found by the river?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Maddy’s just an old friend from back home.” Ronan went to the printer and grabbed the reports. “But, yes, she knew Lucille Bowman, at least casually. Maddy’s a broker and they ran in some of the same professional circles.”

“Well, tell your friend to watch her ass.”

Ronan stilled, and carefully placed the reports on his desk. A knot of dread curled in his gut and the serious expression the Captain’s face didn’t do anything to ease it.

“They think the murder was somehow connected to Lucille’s job?” Ronan let out a slow breath. “Shit.”

“Don’t know yet.” Jenkins folded his hands on top of his round belly. “All they know right now is she was supposed to show an apartment on the West Side. — an open house or something, and she never made it. Hell, those real estate people have now, all their contact info online. It’s easy to find someone and track ‘em down if you want to.”

“What are they thinking?.” Ronan’s gut clenched.

“Husband ain’t good for it,” Jenkins said. “His alibi is air tight. No affairs, financials are in order. Whoever did this knew her, though—or at least knew where she was going. Hell, she obviously didn’t get dragged through the streets of the city kicking and screaming, so odds are that she knew the perp in some way. They’re still waiting on toxicology. You know that shit takes forever.”

“Damn it.” Ronan ran one hand over his face and sat in his chair. “Maddy is always doing those Open House things. Not to mention the running around she does for individual appointments. She works her ass off — you’d think that her life depended on it.” He let out a slow sigh. “Hell, she lives and breathes it.”

“You’d know somethin’ about that. Wouldn’t ya?”

“It’s not the same thing, Cap. Those rich fancy clients of hers freakin’ love her because she drops everything to get them what they need. The woman is nothing, if she’s not tenacious.”

“I guess that includes resisting your charms too, eh McGuire?” Jenkins laughed and wagged a finger at Ronan. “You like this broad, so don’t even try to deny it. “

“Of course I do. We’re friends.”

“Yeah but you wanna be more than friends.” Jenkins raised his salt and pepper eyebrows. “You know how I can tell?”

“No.” Ronan stapled the reports and busied himself, trying not to let Jenkins know how right he was. “Enlighten me.”

“Ever since she came to town, you haven’t been out on a single date.” Jenkins hoisted his rotund form out of the chair with a groan. “And for a guy who seemed to have a different date almost every Saturday night for the past several years, that seems a bit odd. Don’t ya think?”

“Careful, Cap.” Ronan winked and extended the two finished reports to his superior. “You sound jealous.”

“Some detective you are.” Jenkins made a snort of derision and snagged the papers from Ronan. “Not jealous, more like impressed. I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date and believe me; it ain’t for lack of effort. A good lookin’ guy like you could be out with any woman he wanted. And here you are, pining away for the one broad in this city who turned you down.”

“See?” Ronan leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “You’re working under the assumption that I’ve asked her out, for an actual date, that is. I’m still in the game.”

“Sounds like you’re on the bench.” Jenkins narrowed his pale brown eyes. “You haven’t actually asked her out? You been joggin’ with this woman all the freakin’ time. What’s the hold up?”

“I told you, man, we’re just friends.” Ronan shrugged. “Period. End of story.”

“Bullshit,” Jenkins snorted. “I may be old-fashioned but men and women can’t only be friends. Not really.”

“Whatever, man,” Ronan sighed and dropped his hands the arms of his chair. He would never win that argument with his Captain. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“You mean because of the dead boyfriend?”

“Real sensitive, Cap.” Ronan gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up. “His name was Rick and he was a firefighter back in our home town. He bought it on the job. I knew him, okay? He was a good guy.”

“Right, that sucks,” Jenkins, said slowly. “But with all due respect, she can’t date a dead guy, and his memory ain’t gonna keep her warm at night.”

“Come on, Cap,” Ronan persisted. “They were practically married and were together for years, like almost a decade. It seems shady to be hitting on her so soon after something like that. I’m being her friend, which is exactly what she needs.”

“Maybe, but it sounds like an excuse to me.” Jenkins snapped his fingers at his dog. “Come on, Saratoga. Let’s go, girl. It’s time to head home.”

“Why would I need an excuse?” Ronan shouted after him.

“Easy,” Jenkins barked over his shoulder. “If you don’t ask, then she can’t turn you down.”

Ronan had no response to that. The son of a bitch was absolutely right. He hadn’t come right out and asked Maddy on a date because he was pretty sure she’d say no. Plus, why would he want to make it weird between them, especially before the wedding? That wouldn’t be fair to his brother and Jordan. The last complication they needed was awkwardness between the best man and the maid of honor.

He went to close his computer down, the Bowman case came to mind. A knot formed in his gut. Like the investigating officers, he too suspected that Lucille knew her killer—at least enough to go off with him without raising an alarm. But on the other hand, the New York City real estate market was massive, The odds were probably slim that Maddy knew this guy too, whoever he was.

Slim or not, he was going to have to have a chat with her about safety precautions. Bowser yawned loudly before stretching and rising to his feet.

“What do you think, buddy?” The bloodhound came over and laid his head in Ronan’s lap, as though asking to get the hell out of there. “Think Maddy will take advice from me and take the proper precautions?”

Bowser snuffled loudly and sat on his haunches.

“Yeah,” Ronan laughed softly. “Me neither. But that won’t stop me from trying.”

***

Maddy discreetly checked the time on her phone before turning her attention back to the young couple whispering with each other in the kitchen. Mrs. Bartholomew loved the place and Mr. Bartholomew wasn’t entirely sold but if she had to bet—the wife was going to win.

The Friday evening Open House, while at an unorthodox time, was turning out to be one of her busiest in the past month. Brenda was supposed to assist Maddy tonight to get a little more experience under her belt, but she’d never showed. The girl was new and eager to please, but flaking out on this Open House was not cool. Maddy loathed reprimanding people but a lecture was coming Brenda’s way. The beautiful blonde was barely out of college—would she have blown off work for a better offer and a hot date? The company had taken a chance bringing someone so young and green into the office.

It looked like they had made a mistake but Maddy hoped like hell the girl had a good reason for flaking out. A smile curved her lips. Terrence, her boss and the owner of Cosmpolitan Realty, would surely tell her to give Brenda another chance. His compassion and strong ethical code were the two main reasons she signed on with his company. His business was about people not only making the sale, which was unusual in the cutthroat real estate world.

Maddy came to this city to live without emotional attachments but time and again she found herself getting suckered in. She couldn’t help it. The city might be cold and unemotional but no matter how hard Maddy tried, she couldn’t be.

Letting out a sigh, she checked her phone again. There was no answer to the text she’d sent Brenda, and no missed calls.

Perfect. Managing staff and juggling personalities was Maddy’s least favorite part of business. She used to tell Rick she was fine not having kids, because she knew plenty of adults who acted like children. Maybe she was being too hard on the girl and too quick to judge.

She pictured herself scolding the girl but Maddy knew the fantasy would have to suffice. She’d never do it real life. One look into the sweet wide-eyed apologetic face of Brenda and Maddy would be telling the girl not to worry about it.

I’m a sucker.

Handling this Open House on her own wasn’t difficult, per se. She could handle events like this with her eyes closed. But it had been busy. The spacious Upper West side penthouse had only been on the market for a week and the owners were eager to sell. That typically happened with a divorce. Since they were so eager, Maddy set up a Friday night Open House to go with the one on Sunday but based on the interest tonight, the place could be sold by then.

God bless the Internet.

She’d done damn well back in the Old Brookfield beachfront market and many of those wealthy clients who bought summer property lived and worked in the city. Transitioning to the New York City market had been surprisingly easy.

Besides, her favorite part of being a realtor was helping people find the place they would call home. The one space where they could kick off their shoes, snuggle up on the couch, and find shelter from the world and their worries. It was the most satisfying part of her job.

Maddy gave the wealthy young twosome the space she knew they wanted, and loitered by the front door while they chatted quietly. Twelve other realtors had been through the massive apartment with their clients at last count, in addition to seven walk-ins. It had been a long and emotionally draining week., and there were about ten minutes left before she could go home and collapse.

Just as that thought rushed through her weary brain the private elevator to the penthouse dinged. The doors slid open and a man stepped out. He was older, probably late fifties, good looking and distinguished in a Gordon Gecko kind of way. He had Wall Street sleaze ball written all over him and reeked of over compensation. She’d be willing to bet he drove either a Porsche or Corvette—probably bright yellow.

It was something about the way men like him carried themselves: shoulders back, head up, expensive suit—but the fear of discovery lingered behind their eyes. It was like at any moment someone might reveal them for the fraud that, deep down, they believed themselves to be.

Sucker or jaded bitch? Maddy forced a smile and extended her hand. This city has already done a number on me.

“Hello, I’m Maddy Morgan.” She shook his hand briefly as he moved into the large foyer. His gleaming polished shoes clicked on the tumbled marble floor. “You made it to our Open House just in time.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t look at her but scanned the foyer as he continued toward the open living room. “Peter Gregory.”

“Did you have an opportunity to sign in at the front desk? The building’s board insists upon it.” Maddy strode up next to him. “The security here is top notch, which is, of course, one of the selling points.”

“Of course.” He gave her a tight smile and nodded toward the window bank on the opposite wall. “May I have a look around? I’ve just begun the process of finding a new home and this one seemed perfect on paper.”

“Absolutely.” Maddy folded her hands in front of her and glanced at the yuppies. Still whispering. “Then you know that this lovely home has four bedrooms and three and a half baths. The kitchen is state of the art and you have a private garden terrace off the master bedroom.”

“Yes. As I said, I’ve seen the listing.” He tilted his head and strolled across the room with an air of arrogance around him. “Thank you, Ms. Morgan. I’ll just take a quick walk through. I realize the showing time is almost over and I wouldn’t want to throw anyone off schedule. My wife will be joining me in a few weeks and if I don’t have something decent to show her, she’ll be quite perturbed with me.”

A wife? That was surprising. Maddy thought for sure this man was a bachelor.

“I see,” Maddy said as she scolded herself for jumping to conclusions. “Is there something in particular she’s looking for?”

“I’ll know it when I see it,” he said quietly. He held his hands behind his back and surveyed the space. “Finding a new home, knowing when it’s the right one, is more of a feeling. It’s not something one can put on paper. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Her lips lifted. She had definitely misread this man. “In fact, I couldn’t agree more.”

“Well, then. I’ll be just a moment.”

“Take your time, Mr. Gregory.” Maddy meant it, too. She may have been tired but time was money. Besides, if he and his wife weren’t already working with another realtor, she’d be more than happy to help them. “I’ll be right here if you have any questions.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Morgan?” The young Mr. Bartholomew strode out of the kitchen with his wife’s hand clasped tightly in his. Based on the excited twinkle in the pretty blonde woman’s eyes, she’d won the whisper war. “We’ll be putting in an offer. We didn’t officially sign the contract with you and Cosmopolitan Realty yet but I’d like to rectify that immediately.”

“Absolutely. I know you had to rush out to another appointment after our last meeting.” Maddy smiled warmly. She pulled her card from her pocket and handed it to him. “This is my listing and I’m happy to help you.”

“Thank you,” the young woman squealed with excitement. “I know you’re not supposed to show how much you love a place but I can’t help it.”

“Believe me, I understand.” Maddy nodded. “I knew my apartment would be mine from the second I stepped through the front door. It just felt …”

“Like home?” She asked hopefully.

Referring to Maddy’s apartment as home would be a major stretch. Nowhere in this huge heartless city ever would ever be her home. Not really. Honestly, she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever feel at home anywhere ever again.

“You could say that,” Maddy smiled. “It felt safe.”

Yeah, safe for you to hide from your life and the rest of the world. Coward.

“Honey,” her husband said warningly. “We still have to go over a few items. I’m sure if Ms. Morgan gets any offers between now and nine o’clock tomorrow morning she’ll let us know, so we can jump into the bidding. Right?”

“Definitely.”

Maddy showed the Bartholomews to the elevator and let out the weary laugh the instant the door slid closed with a dull thump. Their enthusiasm was refreshing if not, naïve. They were first time buyers and from a big money family. Private schools and country clubs had been their playgrounds, and dropping several million on this apartment didn’t seem like it would faze them in the least.

Really, though, what did Maddy know? They could have won the freaking lottery, or maybe the guy hit it big with some start-up company. At the end of the day, where they got their money didn’t matter. It was none of her business, but that aside, she did like to speculate. It kept the process interesting and forced her to pay attention to details. Usually, it was the smallest detail that gave the largest amount of information.

Like Ronan McGuire and the coffee, for example.

A smile curved her lips when she recalled the way he effortlessly ordered her coffee exactly the way she liked it. It might have seemed silly to some, but that small bit of knowledge showed his attentiveness. Her smile faltered and she fished her phone out of the pocket of her suit jacket. In all the years she’d been with Rick, the man never had remembered how she liked her coffee. He got it wrong so often it had even become a running joke between them. Then again, he’d always had a rotten memory and had even forgotten her birthday a couple times.

Details hadn’t been Rick’s strength.

“Ms. Morgan?” The voice pulled her from her memories and Maddy spun around quickly, feeling foolish for drifting off like that. “Are you feeling alright?”

Mr. Gregory stood behind her and was peering at her as though he was worried she was going to faint or something.

“Yes,” Maddy said, quickly.

“You’re certain? Because my wife has been ill and…well…she sometimes gets a faraway look on her face, like the one you just had. It makes me worry.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gregory.” Maddy’s voice softened. “I hope she’s on the mend.”

“As much as one can be after a few rounds of chemotherapy.” He dropped his gaze from hers and cleared his throat before turning his back to her. “I don’t think she would like this penthouse and given the circumstances, it must be exactly right.”

“Of course.” The broken tone of his voice tugged at her heartstrings. “If you decide work with me, I promise you we’ll find the perfect home for you and Mrs. Gregory.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Yes and no.” He turned to face her again, his cool demeanor once again in place. “I saw what I needed to see. As I am just starting my search, I’d like to go look at some other spaces. Do you have time on your schedule this weekend?”

“Of course.” She squared her shoulders and grabbed a copy of the listing off the table before handing it to him. “I apologize, I should have given you this when you came in. I will tell you that the couple that just left have said that they’ll have a bid in by morning. No pressure, but I want you to have all the information you might need to make an informed choice.”

“I see.” He folded the paper lengthwise and slipped it inside his jacket pocket, and all the while his cool gaze remained pinned to hers. “While I like this particular apartment, I want to see others. While I am not a man who normally makes decisions quickly, time is of the essence. For obvious reasons.”

“Understandable.” Maddy gathered the extra listing sheets into a folder. “If you’re not already working with a realtor, then I’d be happy to help you.”

“I was but…it didn’t work out.” He lifted one shoulder and waved his hand dismissively. “She wasn’t a good fit. The woman seemed more concerned with her commission than finding me what I needed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you had an unpleasant experience.”

“It’s business,” he said flatly. “I want the best and based on everything I’ve heard lately, that would be you. You came highly recommended.”

Maddy tightened her grip on the folder and held it against her chest.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He nodded curtly. “I’m new to the city. Until recently, I operated out of our company’s Chicago offices. After my unpleasant experience with the other realtor, I was told by our CEO, Bill Weinstein, that you are the best in the business on every level.”

“I’ll have to thank him for the kind recommendation.” Maddy’s chest puffed a bit with pride. The Weinsteins were one of her best clients, and had rented houses in Old Brookfield from her every summer for the past several years. They had been persnickety about their new home in the city but she’d stuck with them and found them a fabulous duplex that met every one of their needs. No small task, to be sure.

“If you know Bill,” he said, a hint of a smile played at his lips, “then you know he’s not one to pass out compliments easily. My wife, Helen, told me if I didn’t take his advice I was a horse’s ass.”

Maddy’s brows lifted and her reaction elicited a small smile from Mr. Gregory.

“Thirty five years of marriage and one learns to listen to one’s wife. Especially when she refers to one as an animal’s backside.”

“Then I’ll be sure I take the time to find out exactly what you’re looking for.” Madd’s lips lifted . “Perhaps we could meet at my offices tomorrow, or Sunday. Just let me know what’s best for you. I like to meet with my clients first to find out exactly what they are looking for.”

Maddy handed him her card, which he promptly slipped into his pocket without even looking at it.

“Sunday.” He strode past her to the elevator and hit the button. “Your office at noon.”

“Wonderful.” Maddy smiled. . “I’ll see you then.”

The door slid closed and Maddy was left alone in the enormous apartment. She hoped that his former realtor wasn’t anyone that she knew.That could get awkward fast. This business was nothing if not cutthroat but Maddy wasn’t. Stealing clients was plain old wrong and there was no way she would knowingly poach from another realtor’s list.

Gregory was uptight and bossy but none of that mattered. Maddy had a new bee in her bonnet and it was finding a home for him and his ailing wife. Thirty-five years? Holy shit. That was a long damn time to be with one person.

She made quick work of shutting off all the lights and making sure everything was exactly as the owners had left it.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she stepped out of the elevator into the ornate lobby. She expected to see a voicemail or text from Brenda, explaining where she’d been.

Maddy glanced at the screen and a slow smile curved her lips. Her heartbeat picked up along with a giddy fluttery feeling in her belly, making her feel like a swarm of butterflies had been let loose. Definitely not Brenda.

It was a text from Ronan.

Meet you in the park for our Saturday morning run tomorrow? By the Alice in Wonderland statue. 9am. Be there or be square.

Maddy bit her lower lip and started to type back but her thumb paused above the screen. It hovered there like an indecisive squirrel in the middle of the street, choosing whether or not to get run over by the oncoming car. If she continued meeting up with Ronan, eventually, their platonic relationship would likely take a hefty turn toward lusty.

Would that be so bad?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed back.

Yes. See you then and this time coffee is on me.

She went to put it in her pocket but Ronan, the speed texter, texted back immediately.

Good. You do know how I like it don’t you?

A wicked grin cracked Maddy’s face because the message was brimming with sexual innuendo. Before she could come up with a witty response, he texted again.

My coffee…I was talking about my coffee…really

A delicious shiver flickered and got her blood moving. How silly was it a flirty text exchange could give her such a thrill? Maybe pathetic was a better word but she didn’t care. She was having too much fun and it had been far too long since she’d had any of that. Maddy puffed a curly strand of hair away from her eyes and texted back.

Sure, McGuire. See you tmrw.

Smiling and filled with an almost schoolgirl giddiness, Maddy tried to maintain her professional exterior. She collected the sign in sheet from the front desk bell captain and slipped it into her folder. She placed everything on the quilted bench by the desk and pulled on her wool coat, bracing herself for the dark chilly night air. Her last message to Ronan was still on her screen and without even thinking about it, she scooped up the phone and sent one more text.

And for the record, I bet I know exactly how you like it.

~~ Other Books in this Series ~~