Now Available!

~ Bound For Hell ~

An erotic, romantic-suspense novel

Book 1 of The Bound Trilogy

by Kendra Leigh

Relentlessly sexy. Emotionally deep. Tangled, twisted, intricately woven love story with romance and suspense.

For readers 18 and over due to explicit sexual content.

Synopsis…

Ethan Wilde. Billionaire. Business Man.

Passionate. Powerful. Persistent.

One of New York’s most eligible bachelors.

Angel Lawson. Photographer. Gallery Owner.

Burdened. Beautiful. Broken.

A woman bound by the ropes of her sins and forgotten past, fearful of her future.

A chance encounter…

Consumed by guilt and tormented by the bonds of a tragic past, Angel Lawson’s life has been a solitary journey, condemned to live without love. In order to preserve her damaged soul from further rejection, sex is as close to a man as she ever plans to get. She was already hell-bound for her sins. One more wasn’t going to hurt …

… or so she thought.

When a passionate encounter throws her into the world of Ethan Wilde, Angel is helpless to resist the irrefutable desire and depth of raw emotion he ignites in her.

Ethan is as intense as he is sinfully sexy. Irretrievably captivated by Angel, he seems just as intent on understanding her naked soul as he is desperate to possess every inch of her naked body.

Angel craves his touch like a drug and yearns for the love he promises, but surrendering to the feelings he’s unearthed will mean exposing her fears and releasing the demons buried for a lifetime. Exposing her heart will leave it at risk of being broken.

Will Angel choose to leave her life of solitude behind, or is the choice no longer hers?

Ethan Wilde is used to getting what he wants … and what he wants is Angel.

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Excerpt…

Unable to comprehend that I was having this discussion with somebody I’d only just met, I could only gape in astonishment. I had never discussed my mother with anyone—ever. It was as though I’d been completely removed from reality. I needed to get a grip. “I’m sorry, do you mind if we talk about something else?”

A flash of something, regret, disappointment maybe, momentarily furrowed his brow. “If you’d prefer. I didn’t mean to cause you further distress.”

“No, its fine. It’s just that I don’t usually … I’m not used to … Damn!” I cursed at my sudden inability to form a complete sentence. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t usually struggle with the art of speaking. I seem to have lost all capacity to function properly.”

He smiled widely, the most wonderful, captivating smile that started out in his eyes before making its way to his delectable mouth. The sexiest smile I’d ever encountered. And then he was laughing, and I was laughing with him.

“You’re exquisite,” he said as the laughter abated, head tilted slightly to the side as if contemplating me. “Even more so than I remembered. I’ve seen three very different and dramatic sides to you, already, Miss Lawson. All of them conflicting and at odds with each other—and all of them equally exquisite. You fascinate me.”

I flushed slightly at his flattering comments. “Three sides?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re exhilaratingly beautiful when you’re relaxed and laughing in the spirit of the moment, yet delicately beautiful when sad and vulnerable.” He paused, his awed expression changing to something much darker and more sensual. “And you’re at your most beguiling and spellbinding when you’re surrendering yourself to your most sensual and carnal desires. A woman who knows what she wants and is daring enough to explore her fantasies in order to satisfy her cravings is an enormous turn-on. Being part of that experience was the most erotic moment of my life. It drove me crazy when you came for me. You’re the sexiest, most exciting woman I have ever met—or fucked, Miss Lawson.”

Christ, say what’s on your mind, why don’t you? This man clearly had no problems communicating his feelings candidly. I gazed at him, utterly dumbfounded and burning with embarrassment.

“And so easily disconcerted, I see.” A hint of amusement trickled over his luscious lips. “I wouldn’t have figured that on Monday night. Yet another alluring trait, Miss Lawson. You’re full of surprises. Quite simply irresistible.”

“I’m just adjusting to your candidness, Mr. Wilde.”

“Does it upset you?

I paused, thinking about the question. “No.” I answered honestly. Because if anything, I was finding his forthright approach a complete turn on. “But I’ve only met you once before and, until ten minutes ago, wasn’t sure I’d ever lay eyes on you again.”

“Did you hope that you would?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” I smiled in my attempt at digression. “Let me ask you some.”

“Go ahead.” He sipped his coffee, casually unconcerned.

“Who the hell are you?”

Laughing, he reached out to shake my hand formally, his touch sending a current of vibrating sexual energy through my body. “Ethan Wilde, twenty-nine, born in New York. My parents are Richard and Veronica Wilde. I have one brother, Damon, twenty-six. One sister, Abby, twenty-two. I was educated and spent most of my early life in London, as you’ve probably guessed, and I’ve been back and forth between here and the UK ever since. I now live more or less permanently here in Manhattan. Next question.”

“Do you always psychoanalyze and cross-examine the women you casually fuck in storage rooms?” Wow, where the hell did that come from?

A flicker of his brow hinted at surprise. “Well, now it’s I who needs to adjust to your candidness, Miss Lawson. But in answer to your question, I’ve never fucked anybody—casually or otherwise—in a storage room before. Furthermore, until now, nobody’s interested me enough to want to psychoanalyze them … if that’s what I’m doing. You’re a totally unique experience, Angelica.”

5-Star Reader Reviews….

“When I initially agreed to review Bound for Hell I can honestly say I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Now days it seems like a lot of the books start to blend together. So I’ll be completely honest in saying I didn’t know what to expect. But anything I could’ve ever imagined feeling for this books, times that by a million and it still wouldn’t be enough. Let’s just say this. I freaking loved this book…I’m grateful I had the chance to read Bound for Hell. I truly hope you’ll give this series a try. I would have been missing a hell of a lot if I hadn’t!” ~ Love Words and Books, Goodreads

“This novel blew me away! I found the instant connection between the two characters like something out of a movie. You can almost imagine the sparks flying. There are some tender moments between the two and of course LOTS of heat! And I mean Kindle melting heat! The story kept me wanting more and there were moments when I laughed ( a certain scene with a DVD), moments when I cried and when I was so angry I couldn’t see straight! Kendra Leigh is a fantastic writer and this debut novel from her is amazing. I cannot wait to read the next novel in this series! ~ Book Nerd, Goodreads

“This well written story will embrace your heart and keep it beating with suspense. Kendra Leigh includes hot love scenes, instant attraction, and mystery to keep you turning the pages. I could not put this book down and look forward to the rest of the trilogy. Thankfully, there is no cliffhanger to leave me anxious and angry for book two. However, not knowing the ending to this modern day fairytale leaves plenty to be wanted. I look forward to more books from Kendra Leigh.” ~ Jessica B., Goodreads

Bound For Hell ~ The Playlist

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About the Author…

Kendra Leigh fell in love with books and the wonderful world of reading from a very young age. She was at her happiest when Enid Blyton whisked her away up into the magical lands at the top of the Faraway Tree with Moon-face and the rest of the gang. Books have been her constant source of escapism ever since. Currently residing in the UK, Kendra devotes her life to her devilishly handsome partner, scandalously beautiful daughter and cute as hell Shih-Tzu. As well as writing and reading, Kendra loves great TV, especially Dexter and Breaking Bad. Bound for Hell is her debut novel and book one of The Bound Trilogy.

Kendra’s Social Media Links

Website Facebook Twitter

Buying Links….

AmazonUS — Amazon UK

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The Bound Trilogy will continue with:

Book 2: Bound For Salvation

Book 3: Bound For Nirvana

We are dying to share this Release Blitz with you all to celebrate K.A. Tucker’s BECOMING RAIN! BECOMING RAIN is a New Adult Romantic Suspense novel, and the second novel in K.A. Tucker’s Burying Water Series, published by Atria books, an Imprint of Simon & Schuster. We hope you’re ready for this!

BECOMING RAIN US BUY LINKS:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-a-Million | IndieBound | Apple | Blio | Books-a-Million | Google

UK BUY LINKS/BECOMING RAIN:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple | Google | Waterstones | Foyles

About BECOMING RAIN:

Luke Boone doesn’t know exactly what his uncle Rust is involved in but he wants in on it-the cars, the money, the women. And it looks like he’s finally getting his wish. When Rust hands him the managerial keys to the garage, they come with a second set-one that opens up the door to tons of cash and opportunity. Though it’s not exactly legal, Luke’s never been one to worry about that sort of thing. Especially when it puts him behind the wheel of a Porsche 911 and onto the radar of gorgeous socialite named Rain.

Clara Bertelli is at the top of her game-at only twenty-six years old, she’s one of the most successful undercover officers in the Washington D.C. major crime unit, and she’s just been handed a case that could catapult her career and expose one of the west coast’s most notorious car theft rings. But, in order to do it, she’ll need to go deep undercover as Rain Martines. Her target? The twenty-four-year old nephew of a key player who appears ready to follow in his uncle’s footsteps.

As Clara drifts deeper into the luxurious lifestyle of Rain, and further into the arms of her very attractive and charming target, the lines between right and wrong start to blur, making her wonder if she’ll be able to leave it all behind. Or if she’ll even want to.

Check out our 5 smooches review HERE.

And don’t forget BURYING WATER, the first book in this thrilling series…

Amazon ** Barnes & Noble ** iBooks ** Kobo ** IndieBound

About BURYING WATER:

The top-selling, beloved indie author of Ten Tiny Breaths returns with a new romance about a young woman who loses her memory—and the man who knows that the only way to protect her is to stay away.

Left for dead in the fields of rural Oregon, a young woman defies all odds and survives—but she awakens with no idea who she is, or what happened to her. Refusing to answer to “Jane Doe” for another day, the woman renames herself “Water” for the tiny, hidden marking on her body—the only clue to her past. Taken in by old Ginny Fitzgerald, a crotchety but kind lady living on a nearby horse farm, Water slowly begins building a new life. But as she attempts to piece together the fleeting slivers of her memory, more questions emerge: Who is the next-door neighbor, quietly toiling under the hood of his Barracuda? Why won’t Ginny let him step foot on her property? And why does Water feel she recognizes him?

Twenty-four-year-old Jesse Welles doesn’t know how long it will be before Water gets her memory back. For her sake, Jesse hopes the answer is never. He knows that she’ll stay so much safer—and happier—that way. And that’s why, as hard as it is, he needs to keep his distance. Because getting too close could flood her with realities better left buried.

The trouble is, water always seems to find its way to the surface.

About K.A. Tucker:

Born in small-town Ontario, Kathleen published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader and the farthest thing from a genre-snob, loving everything from High Fantasy to Chick Lit. Kathleen currently resides in a quaint small town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.

Website ** Twitter ** Facebook ** Novel Goodreads ** Author Goodreads ** YouTube ** Pinterest ** Instagram

Twenty-four-year-old Summer Johnson knows two things. The first is that due to a quickly worsening medical condition, she faces a risky surgery in three months’ time that may very well end in her death. The second is that she would like to fall in love before then.

As spring sinks into her namesake season on the Florida coastline, Summer plays the odds and downloads a new dating app – and after one intriguing message from a beautiful surfer named Cooper Nichols, it becomes clear that the story of what may be her last few months under the sun is about to be completely revised. All she has to do now is write something worth reading.

Tender, honest, devastating and triumphant, The Summer Remains explores a very human battle being waged in a very digital age: the search for a love that will outlast this temporary borrowing of bones. In an era when many feel compelled to share and re-share anything about everything, prepare to feel a love so special, you will want to hug it close and make it yours forever.

Check out our 5 smooches review HERE.

Amazon

Chapter 1

On a sunny Tuesday morning towards the end of March, a white-haired man walked into a cold room and told me I might die soon.

I fidgeted on the hospital bed as Dr. Steinberg entered, the late-spring sunlight mocking me as smiled onto the industrial tile floors. I’d known Steinberg since I was four. He’d handled almost all of my throat problems, and I trusted him. He was like a second father to me, and I knew he would always tell me the truth.

That’s why the look on his face scared the living shit out of me.

I listened for the next ten minutes as he gave me the gist of the story. It was all so surreal that my mind could only catch certain phrases before the sentence would run away from me again:

Your esophagus has ruptured again, for good this time…

Your stomach is leaking more and more…

Toxicity levels are through the roof…

Your body just isn’t getting the nutrients it needs from your feeding tube any longer…

And finally, terminal.

“Terminal?” I heard myself squeak, my throat filling up with that weird, shivery feeling you get when you know your life has just changed. Steinberg suddenly became very interested in a fraying string on the sleeve of his jacket.

“T-terminal,” he stuttered. “Summer, the thing is…I’m afraid this is a…well, nobody has ever…”

He finally cleared his throat and met my gaze, tears pooling in the corners of his cerulean eyes. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry to tell you this, but this mountain may be unclimbable for you.”

My mother let out a small, sharp sob in the corner and then clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Okay, unclimbable,” I swallowed, staring down at the floor as I tried to grasp just what that word now meant to me and my family and this weird little life I had created for myself.  “Okay. Unclimbable. Okay.”

But Steinberg wasn’t done yet.

“Hold on. I said it may be unclimbable, not that it definitely will be. I want to prepare you, and I don’t want to give you any false hope, but there may be something we can do, Summer. It’s a small chance, but still, it’s a chance. A Hail Mary, if you will.”

I reached up to rub my temples. “Okay, well, survival sounds good. Better than death, I suppose. What is this Hail Mary?”

Steinberg crossed his arms, studied me for a moment, and then took out a chart and launched into a spiel about something called the Porter-Collins Procedure, an extremely major surgery that would perhaps be saving my life in three months’ time.

“Nobody has ever survived this particular operation,” he concluded a few minutes later, skipping all the medical jargon to keep from boring you to death, pardon my pun. “Nobody. It’s been attempted three times, but none of those were ultimately successful. One person survived for three months in intensive care, but she was fifty-one, and in frail health in general. We think you’re a much more viable candidate, but then again, there is no way to be sure. We can do it in two, maybe three months, after I assemble the specialists and create a game plan – considering your health doesn’t take another nosedive before then, that is. If we’re going to try this, we need you in tip-top shape – or as close to that as we can get you, anyway.”

“Okay,” I said again, sitting a little taller. “And what are the chances that this Hail Mary will even work, and that I won’t just die a few days later, anyway?”

He peered down at me from over his glasses. “I’m afraid to say that it would be stretching things to even tell you eighty/twenty.”

I steeled myself and took a breath. “Okay, well, that’s better than a hundred to zero. Let’s go out with a bang, then, Steinberg. Let’s do this.”

He threw up a fist, triumphant, but I could see the fear in his eyes. “It’s settled, then. Hail Mary it is.”

My mom rushed over to sit beside me and kind of hang onto my shoulder as some counselor woman came in who helped families handle these types of situations – “transitions,” she called them, and just hearing that word threatened to pull me under. Dr. Steinberg watched, an apology on his face, as she said things like “preparations” and “options” and “arrangements.” I tried to be polite and pay attention, but truthfully I didn’t give a damn about what she was saying. It was go time, and things were looking grim. I already knew that. The wet, metallic panic erupting in my stomach was due to an entirely different subject.

“And finally,” the counselor, Angie, said in a hushed, clipped, polite voice that spoke of years of having impossible conversations with worried families huddled in chilly waiting rooms, “I work very closely with Last Great Hope, a wonderful organization that specializes in situations like this, and if there is anything you want before the surgery, Summer – a trip to Tahiti, a cabin in the mountains, whatever – we can do it. Or if-”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, making her stop short.

“Wh – excuse me?”

“Save the Disney trips for the twelve-year-olds,” I told her. “Spend all that money on a cancer kid or something; I know the truth about those fairy tales now. Make someone else happy – I’ve got everything I need. Or almost everything.” I paused as everyone leaned in. “I do have one request, actually. First of all, all of you are forgetting something vital.”

“Oh no, did we forget your milk?” my mom asked as she reached for her purse. “I thought I put some-”

“No, Shelly, we did not forget the baby milk I pump into my stomach tube every day to keep myself alive because my throat doesn’t work, but that does have something to do with it.”

As she pouted in my general direction I realized what a complete bitch I was being, and then I realized just as quickly that I probably wouldn’t be able to stop myself anyway.

“What is it, then?” my mom asked, stung, and I took a breath and then pushed it back out.

“Frankly, I need all of you to chill the fuck out.”

My mom dropped her purse onto her lap. Dr. Steinberg looked at me like I’d just tried to jump out of the third story window. Angie held her pen in midair and stared at me, the sun turning her brownish eyes ocher.

“Excuse me, young lady?” my mother asked. “We need to what?”

“Chill the eff out,” I said, editing my language the second time around. “Sorry, but all this emotion and drama and doom and gloom crap is already making me freak out. You’re all forgetting I’ve had a broken throat and a tube in my abdomen since I was in diapers, and that I can handle this. I’ve dealt with health scares before, and I will do it again, no matter how much scarier this Scare is than all the other Scares. Like, I know you’re trying to help and stuff, and I love you, but having meltdowns in front of me is not going to help me deal with all this, so please, I beg you, everyone take a deep breath, close your eyes, and get your panties out of a bunch.”

“We’re sorry,” my mom said after an impossibly long and awkward moment. “It’s just that we need to prepare you for…for what will happen, and-”

“Prepare me to die?” I asked. “Guess what, Shelly, I’m going to die one day, be it in three months or sixty years, and wasting all my time crying over it isn’t going to help. Here’s what I want, my one last wish – or my maybe-not-last wish, or whatever the hell this is.” A tear appeared in my mom’s eye, and I softened my voice as I reached up to wipe her cheek. “Okay. Before the surgery, I want to have a normal summer by the beach,” I began as I cleared her eye and shook the water from my finger. “I want to go to the sea and go to work and read my books and go about my business like usual without everyone breathing down my neck and treating me like A Broken Person, because if I am treated like A Broken Person for one more month of my life I will break some faces, no offense. Shelly, if you so much as make one special meal – I mean, not that I can eat or anything, because I can’t – anyway, I’m burning down the house. There will literally be a pile of smoldering ashes where your kitchen used to be, I promise.” Shelly pouted again, but I trudged through. “I’m serious, no special treatment. No Christmases in July, no excessive hugging, not even a midnight run to Target for some trinkets from the dollar section. And most of all…”

I looked around and, seeing sympathy in everyone’s eyes and knowing this request would be completely futile, said – “No sympathy. Please. The sympathy is what breaks me and makes me feel broken. If this is gonna be my last chance to live and have fun and be normal, then I’m going to need to feel as normal as possible, and that means absolutely no pity, because that separates me from everyone else and makes me Different with a capital D. And if I don’t stay in a good headspace I’m gonna spend the next three months in a fetal position in my closet having an endless anxiety attack about the surgery, so please work with me here and keep the pity locked up.”

A sigh and a smile. Shelly put her hand on mine. “I would never pity you, Summer. You’re the strongest person I know, and you always have been. You know that. We all know that. That’s not what this is about.”

I tried to smile back. “Thanks, Shelly.”

“Anytime. And can you please call me Mom, like a normal twenty-four-year-old?”

“Not a chance, Shelly.”

“Okay, fine. So, then…a Jax Beach summer? Is that really all you want?”

I paused as her words hung in the overly sanitized air. It wasn’t all, and I knew it. As I sat there I thought of the one thing I didn’t have, the one thing I’d never had, the one thing that screamed at me from the silence and jumped out at me from the shadows – and now that this upcoming summer had perhaps just become Summer’s Last Stand, my desire was suddenly more urgent than ever. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop the longing from rising to my face, and as I felt the blood burn my cheeks I caught Steinberg’s eyes again, which just embarrassed me even more.

“Well, I mean, since you’re asking, there is one thing…”

“Anything!” Shelly and Dr. Steinberg said at exactly the same time, and I stared out of the window as my eyes got all weird and watery.

“Okay, well, I know something so sentimental is going to sound crazy coming from someone so…well, you know how I am…”

“Honest?” Steinberg offered, trying to be polite.

“Opinionated?” Shelly said.

“Brash?” Angie asked, even though she’d just met me ten minutes ago and it was literally beyond embarrassing that she already held that opinion of me.

“Headstrong and stubborn and annoying,” I finally said, shoving it out of the way, and they all nodded. “Anyway, here goes. Since you’re asking, the thing is…well, I’d like to fall in love.”

I looked down at the ground again as everyone in the room broke my most important rule already: I could feel their pity descending on me, smothering me just like it had my entire life, snuffing out any chance I had at being treated like a normal, living, breathing human, who deserved to love and be loved just like anyone else, as they say in the Hallmark cards.

“Oh, honey…” Steinberg sighed.

“It just wouldn’t be fair to someone…” my mother chimed in, just as Angie the counselor lady threw in her two cents, too.

“Sweetie, you have to understand, your situation is very serious. People get irrational during times like these, and if you get involved with someone and the worst happened, well-”

I crossed my fingers behind my back and shook my head. I’d known they’d react like this – why had I even tried in the first place? Some things, I knew, were just better left unshared.

“Yeah,” I said. “Okay, yeah, you guys are right. I’ll try to…put that off, I guess. For now. God knows I have tons of time to think about it – it’s not like I’m dying or anything.”

Everyone forced quick, fake laughs and then got back to business. Unbeknownst to them, however, my mind was quickly leaving the room, flying past the barren oak branches outside the window and soaring above the clouds to someplace only I knew. My desires could not be contained by the circumstances in this room, or by sickness, or even by reality in general, really. I wanted love more than anything – this was true, as much as it humiliated me to admit it. I’d wanted love ever since I was a cookie-cutter little girl being brainwashed by cookie-cutter Disney movies about cookie-cutter princes and princesses falling into cookie-cutter love and then prancing off to their cookie-cutter castles to live out their cookie-cutter lives. And strangely enough, this desire had only deepened after the fairy tale fantasies faded away and melted into a more grown up, real-world entity known as relationship FOMO, when my condition had rendered me an observer from the social media sidelines as everyone my age paired up and got engaged and married and pregnant and then shouted about it from the Facebook treetops as loud as their keyboards would let them while I sat there single as a nun with the flu. But I didn’t want that cookie cutter love from the Disney movies and my social media feeds. I didn’t want some run of the mill summer romance that would fizzle out as soon as the sunrays slanted in the fall and the Facebook Official status went to shit.

Because I, Summer Johnson, Purveyor of Pragmatism, Lover of Logic, Ultimate Believer in the Rational, and Person Who Was Maybe Going To Die Soon, wanted to drown in someone.

Seth King is a twenty-five-year-old author and artist.

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Game Play
Power Play # 1

By: Lynda Aicher

Releasing February 16th, 2015

Carina Press

Blurb

One night, one time, nothing more. That’s all it was supposed to be. They’d agreed their first night together would be their only night together—and Minnesota Glaciers defenseman Dylan Rylie was fine with that. Giant hickeys and claw marks on his ass had never been his style, even if the very memory of Samantha Yates’s merciless sexual energy gets him hard within seconds. He needs to focus on getting a better contract, not mind-blowing orgasms.

One night, one time, nothing more. Fresh off representing the US at the Games and with nowhere else to play, Samantha gave in to one night of frantic passion with the Glaciers’ brawny hotshot. She couldn’t get hurt—not if she controlled the outcome. And she planned to leave Minnesota soon, anyway. She didn’t expect to be recruited to coach Dylan after they’d gotten down and dirty.

When brutal on-ice workouts lead to kinky locker room sessions and “one night” falls by the wayside, Samantha insists on keeping things casual, despite Dylan’s quiet hope for more. But when Dylan goes down—hard—and his career is in jeopardy, Samantha is the first one by his side. What will it take to keep her there after he’s healed?

Check out our review HERE.

 Link to Follow Tour:  http://www.tastybooktours.com/2014/11/game-play-power-play-1-by-lynda-aicher.html

Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23289990-game-play?from_search=true

Buy Links:  Amazon | Barnes  | Kobo  | iTunes

Author Info

Lynda Aicher has always loved to read. After years of weekly travel implementing computer software into global companies, she ended her nomadic lifestyle to raise her two children. Now her imagination is her only limitation on where she can go and her writing lets her escape from the daily duties as a mom, wife, chauffeur, scheduler, cook, teacher, volunteer, cleaner and mediator. Find her at: http://lyndaaicher.com

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 Check out our SMOOCHES review

Excerpt

Timing was everything, and she waited for her moment to kick up some fun on an otherwise blasé event. The charity that donated hockey equipment to kids from military families was a great cause that would benefit from a little show. At least, that was what she told herself.

“Don’t be stupid,” Meg warned in her ear.

“Why not?” Sam asked. “What do I have to lose?” Absolutely nothing. She’d never do anything to smear her name, but it wasn’t like she had a hockey career to worry about. Or a coach she was accountable to.

Or a reason to behave.

Rylie was spending as much time tipping his trademark worn brown cowboy hat at the passing women as he was paying attention to the kids looking for pointers. The ends of his brown hair curled over the back of the gray hoodie he’d worn under his jersey and seemed to match his hat color almost perfectly. Too perfectly.

Nicknamed Cowboy within the hockey world, he was dubbed Pretty Boy as well. The second label was coined his rookie season by a sports announcer and as far as Sam had heard and seen, the man cultivated both brands equally.

“Hi, Rylie,” a group of teenage girls dressed in skinny jeans and overdone makeup chorused as they skated past. Rylie shot them a nod and grin that somehow managed to be appropriate for the age of the girls.

Sam shook her head and chuckled at his easy charm. The guy had it all. Talent, looks, personality—he was a star in the making. One full of potential if he didn’t get distracted by the fame and parties he seemed to enjoy.

Walters smacked the puck toward Rylie, and Sam broke through the kids to swoop across the ice and steal the puck from the preoccupied man. A cheer went up from the kids when she circled the pro player, puck firmly in her control. The air chilled her cheeks and laughter rang in her ears as she sped away.

A quick glance over her shoulder showed Rylie chasing her, the determined pull of his brows blending with a full smile that somehow managed to put a matching one on her face. She caught sight of Meg and passed the puck off before she stopped then took off in the direction she’d just come from.

The circle of kids widened as Walters got into the play, tailing Meg. She swooped around a group of unsuspecting adults, using them as a pick to cut off Walters, and she smacked the puck back to Sam.

“Think you’re hot stuff, do you, Yates?” Rylie was at her side, jabbing his stick at the puck with no effect. She was under no illusion the man knew who she was. Her name was printed in big letters across the back of her jersey.

“Just having some fun.” She cut a sharp circle and faced off Rylie, who skidded to a quick stop.

He tapped his stick on the ice, an indulgent half smile on his lips. “Come on then.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You and me to the net.”

Her stomach did an unwanted flip when his eyes landed back on her. An interesting mix of brown and green, they seemed to dance with the same excitement that flooded her. The challenge was exactly what she’d wanted and his proposition was the best offer she’d had in months. On or off the ice.

“You are so on,” she said, grinning.

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About COLLATERAL DAMAGE

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Hollywood It Girl, Francesca Leon, has just landed the biggest role of her career…one that could clinch an Oscar nomination and open doors. If she’s going to move her career to the next level and work with top directors, she has to nail this part — and keep her sexy, but unreliable leading man from screwing everything up.

Team Calder

Bad boy Calder Fox is the son of Hollywood royalty and fresh out of rehab after his best friend’s death sent him on a downward spiral of drugs and alcohol. While his fans still love him and the paparazzi stalk him, he’s never taken life, or anything about his career, seriously. He may be charming and drop-dead gorgeous, but if he doesn’t stay sober, he could ruin Frankie’s future and expose her long-hidden family secret to the voracious media.

Behind the scenes

Things heat up during filming and have the potential to become hotter, deeper, and much more real. But can Frankie trust Calder with her secret? Or is he doomed to sabotage his own happiness yet again?

Add COLLATERAL DAMAGE to your Goodreads list here!

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THE VIRGIN ROMANCE NOVELIST HTML

The Virgin Romance Novelist

Title: The Virgin Romance Novelist

Author: Meghan Quinn

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Cover Designer: Meghan Quinn

Release Date: April 2nd, 2015

Synopsis:

Her bosom heaved at an alarming rate as his rough hand found its way down to her soft, yet wiry briar patch…

Can you say briar patch in a romance novel? What about meat sword? That’s what it is…a meat sword, right, all meaty and sword like, slaying through the inner dungeons of a woman’s dark desires. What about breasts? Do bosoms really heave?

God, I have no idea what happens when private parts touch.

I’m a virgin trying to write a romance novel and can’t seem to write past a sex scene thanks to my lack of experience.

My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen for a while and gain some real life practice through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups.

But losing my virginity is proving to be tougher than expected…

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

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