MERRY LITTLE SUGAR RUSH, a small-town, friends-to-lovers, return to hometown, holiday romance from USA Today Bestselling Author, Lacey Black, is available now! His time here is temporary and if I’m not careful, I risk …
5 SMOOCHES! * * * * * * * * * * SYNOPSIS: Joy I’m living my dream. Owning a cozy little bakery in downtown Snowflake Falls is everything I ever wanted. …
CHECKING IT TWICE, a fake-dating, close proximity, small-town, holiday hockey romance from New York Times Bestselling Author, Kendall Ryan, is out now! Sometimes the best gifts aren’t under the tree—they’re standing right in …
JUST BREAKING THE RULES, a sexy new single dad, opposites-attract, workplace hockey romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, Lauren Blakely, is coming January 21st! Check out this cover! Title: JUST BREAKING THE RULES …
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?
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
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.
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?
Review
To say I have been in a hockey phase would be a vast understatement. I have been devouring any and all hockey themed books that I can get my hands on for awhile now and when I saw the invite for this one I jumped at the chance to review it.
After a challenge on the ice during a charity event, former Team USA women’s hockey player Samantha (Sam) schools current pro hockey party boy Dylan on the fact that girls can kick ass on ice. The two find themselves at a bar with friends and cannot deny their chemistry which leads to one incredibly hot and sexy somewhat public encounter.
But things might be getting a little awkward when Sam starts privately coaching Dylan and the two must find balance between their professional relationship and the fact that keeping their hands off each other seems impossible. Sam feels frustrated that she cannot have pro success like Dylan simply because she is a woman and there is no female pro league. She is tough and no non-sense and completely gives Dylan a run for his money.
I really enjoyed this hot and sexy sports romance. Samantha’s struggle to fins her place and Dylan’s desire to prove that he isn’t the party boy that he portrayed to be kept me turning pages and eagerly reading. Anytime I had to put my kindle down I was desperate to get back to the book to watch the drama play out and the passion erupt!
While this is my first book by Lynda Aicher, I am excited to read more!
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?
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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
Review
“Sure, it was no mystery why A-list celebrities dropped their drawers for the ‘Hollywood Fox’, but it pissed me off to know I could be affected be his charm. I didn’t even like the guy. Not even a little.”
I don’t know about you but there is something about a New Adult book that takes me to a happy place. I truly enjoy watching these characters come into their own and discover all that the world has in store for them. Whether she is writing a sexy erotic serial or a fun and emotional coming of age story Elisabeth Grace always delivers a story that is near impossible to put down.
“Looks like one of those cars guys drive when they have short dick syndrome.” “I assure you, that’s not a problem I have.” “That’s not how it felt earlier today when it was pressed against my hip.”
Calder Fox has been through it all and has emerged alive but damaged. Francesca Leon is the perfect it girl on the Indie scene looking to make it into the main stream. When these two former cast mates are thrust back together in a project neither can turn down sparks fly but is it enough to get past the pain of the past. Calder is fresh out of rehab and is trying to turn his life around and prove to everyone that he is working on becoming a better person. When the press misinterprets the two of them hanging out as dating these two are put in an impossible yet enticing situation.
“It seemed Frankie was destined to remain a mystery — for now.”
I went into this book with pre-conceptions of Calder being a spoiled rich Hollywood playboy, and while this might be what he thinks of himself, he is nothing like that at all. I have a serious Calder Crush. He was thoughtful, kind, romantic, sexy and beautifully innocent and damaged. He needs the loving and caring side of Frankie and he desires the hellcat she is in bed. These two together are everything I could have wished for.
“I had a feeling I’d follow this man almost anywhere.”
Elisabeth Grace’s writing always captures me and this book was no different. Fun yet dramatic I couldn’t put it down. Sexy and fun Everyone will enjoy this Hollywood romance.
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!
We all have that someone we can’t forget, the summer it all began, and the sleepless nights wondering what went wrong.
For Gage Montgomery, that someone is Layla Baxter. When he was 18, he took one look at the chocolate-haired bookworm with porcelain skin and knew his life would never be the same. But it all came crashing down when Layla suddenly and mysteriously disappeared from St. Simons Island — leaving him with nothing but her angel wing pendent around his neck. For 12 long years, Gage couldn’t shake what happened, if he’s the one to blame, wondering where Layla might be. When their paths finally cross, he’s determined to get the answers he’s spent his life searching for — and to get the girl, too. Quiet Angel is a story of hope, survival, and lost love made new again.
“I missed you, too, but you were never far.” Gage touched his shirt with the wings inside. “You were always there.”
Prescott Lane is the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken and her new release, Quiet Angel. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life. Connect with Prescott Lane on facebook.com/PrescottLane1 and www.twitter.com/prescottlane1.
Giveaway details:
1 necklace – the actual necklace used on the cover of Quiet Angel
We all have that someone we can’t forget, the summer it all began, and the sleepless nights wondering what went wrong.
For Gage Montgomery, that someone is Layla Baxter. When he was 18, he took one look at the chocolate-haired bookworm with porcelain skin and knew his life would never be the same. But it all came crashing down when Layla suddenly and mysteriously disappeared from St. Simons Island — leaving him with nothing but her angel wing pendent around his neck. For 12 long years, Gage couldn’t shake what happened, if he’s the one to blame, wondering where Layla might be. When their paths finally cross, he’s determined to get the answers he’s spent his life searching for — and to get the girl, too. Quiet Angel is a story of hope, survival, and lost love made new again.
“I missed you, too, but you were never far.” Gage touched his shirt with the wings inside. “You were always there.”
Review
Layla and Gage meet when they are both still teenagers but they both also instantly know they are meant to be, they are connected. But Layla has a past, a horrible past she was running from but it catches up to her and she leaves Gage behind. 12 years later they meet once again, but can Gage overcome the fear of Layla running and can Layla face what happened to her and let Gage be there to protect and support her?
Honestly I was never quite sure how to feel about this story. I jumped back and forth, one minute I was really enjoying it, the next I wasn’t. But the bits I liked and the plot itself won me over in the end.
“I want to be your naughty angel,” she said. “I want to show you what heaven’s really like.”
Now there is no denying, this romance is an insta-love!! Massively insta-love and those are not my favourite but Layla and Gage were just so adorable together I moved past it and just enjoyed watching Layla and Gage together and there were definitely trials they both had to overcome so it wasn’t a case of plain sailing at all.
“She wanted to freeze this moment, their past month on the island, to capture it in a bottle and hold it close to her heart. She needed something to hold onto.”
Overall the story itself was interesting, however I was confused at some parts, I don’t want to give anything away so I won’t go into too much detail, just that I wasn’t sure whether it was going to turn into a magical story as well. Apart from that though there was romance, laughter, drama, shock and sad moments; a little bit of everything a good story needs. It kept me entertained and invested in the characters and what the outcome would be.
“I missed you, too, but you were never far.” He touched his shirt with the wings inside. “You were always there.”
I loved the ending, I thought it was beautiful epilogue and it was all rounded up really well. My only slight criticism was I wanted a more final conclusion with Layla’s mother but that’s just me being picky. Overall a really lovely story about young love never ending and moving on from the past.
Series: Night Shift Dirty Things Happen in the Dark Anthology
Author: Kindle Alexander
Release Date: March 17, 2015
Dr. Derek Babineaux is intelligent, dedicated, and one of the best ER physicians in the fast-paced world of critical care at Tulane Medical in New Orleans. Always on top of his game, he’s thrown off balance when the newest staff member finally unleashes his hidden desires.
Justin Delacroix’s job at the inner city’s busiest hospital might be just what he needs to ease back into civilian life after a long stint in the military. High-preforming shifts make working as a trauma nurse at TMC the perfect way to utilize his skills and quick reaction times. There’s only one problem, his attraction for one sexy ER doctor is off the charts, but he has his reasons for not returning Dr. Baby’s night shift advances. Or maybe he doesn’t.
Best Selling, and newly award winning Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica. It’s always a surprise to see what’s coming next! Happily married with too many children, and dogs, living in the suburbs of Dallas.
Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life – I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations – regardless of the situation, but jokes can be a tricky deal. I don’t want to offend anyone and humor tends to offend. So instead, I’m going to tell you about Kindle.
I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I’ll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died – weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn’t have to be alone.
That time in my life was terrible. It’s everything you imagine times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have her ripped away so suddenly broke me.
Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness – it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon announced their brand new ereader. She had no idea the Kindle was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it…Never happened.
Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to know my writing partner. I would have never gotten through those dark days without her unwavering support and guidance. There wasn’t a time she wasn’t there for me. For the first time, I used the hand offered. I know without question I wouldn’t be here today without her. It takes a special person to stand beside someone at a time like that. I will love her forever. I could go on and on about both of them, but I won’t and now you know a little more About Us.
We’re having a release day launch for Joanne Schwehm’s The Critic. I am so excited to share this new romance with you! And Joanne is sharing a fantastic excerpt with us, so be sure to check out all the fun details!!
Knowing my words would destroy her gutted me. Seeing her in that diner was the last thing I’d expected. When her eyes met mine, I knew I couldn’t stay. How would she react to my review? I was just doing my job, but that meant putting in writing that she wasn’t good at hers. It wasn’t even that she hadn’t been good—she had been—just not as good as she could’ve been. Hopefully, she’d take it as constructive criticism and strive to do better. It had just been a preview performance, so in essence, my review could help her. Yeah, I’ll go with that.
When the waitress came to take my order, I made a lame excuse about why I had to leave. I hurried outside, fighting the urge to go meet the woman who had haunted my dreams for years. Instead, I hailed a cab, grabbed my cell phone from my backpack, and called my brother.
He answered after just one ring. “Hey, bro, what’s up? Everything okay?” Brett’s voice was muffled by the sound of people in the background.
“Hey, man, are you still at work?”
“Yeah, I need to get out of here though. It’s not my night to close, but the ladies are in rare form.” He let out a chuckle, making me smile.
Brett was a ladies’ man, and he co-owned the hottest club in the city. He still worked as a bartender, so he never had a lack of pretty women tossing themselves at him. He had enough issues with women though, and I prayed he didn’t add more to his plate—or bed. His last conquest was claiming to be pregnant with his child, so to say Brett’s been on edge would be an understatement. I should be the one making him feel better, but right now, I didn’t know how.
“You’re still coming here this week, right?” I knew my voice wouldn’t reassure him that everything was okay, but I didn’t want him to worry either.
“I can get there early in the day, so we can go to lunch. Unless you need me sooner? I can talk to Alex and take time off.” He sounded concerned.
The thought of him hopping on a train ran through my mind. But it was late. He should sleep for a change. We both kept shitty hours, and getting together at night never worked out.
“No, I don’t want you to do that. It can wait.” I was the big brother, and I needed to handle this on my own.
“Hold on.” I heard movement and Brett greeting people, then it went quiet. “Okay, what’s the deal? I’m in the office now, so talk.”
I knew he wouldn’t let it lie. I took a deep breath. “Remember a few years ago, I told you about an actress that I couldn’t get out of my head?” My chest constricted just thinking about her and the day I told Brett I’d fallen for a stranger.
“The one you had awesome sex with?” Brett let out a boisterous laugh.
“No, I’ve never had sex with Andrea.” Just the thought of that made my heart palpitate.
“Andrea?”
From the confusion in his voice, I knew he didn’t have a clue whom I was referring to. “Yeah, my first review I ever did. Andrea Jordan was the actress—”
“Oh, yeah! I remember that. You told me you had to take a cold shower after just looking at her picture.”
About The Critic:
WORDS
Convey a message
Andrea Jordan dreams of acting on Broadway, and she is at the cusp of achieving success. All her sacrifices start to pay off when she lands a role that will catapult her to stardom.
CAN
Express our thoughts
Award-winning theater critic Bentley Chambers possesses the power to make or break a career. Theatergoers consider his reviews to be gospel, and actors cringe at the thought of him in the audience. His words possess power.
HURT
A heart’s not made of stone
More than one actor has been sent packing after Bentley’s bad reviews, and Andrea could be next. She won’t stand by and let him shatter her dreams, but she never thought giving him a piece of her mind would also mean giving him a piece of her heart.
Will Andrea discover on her own the passion Bentley claims she lacks, or will he be the one to draw it out of her?
Words… choose them wisely.
***STAND ALONE NOVEL*** INTENDED FOR MATURE READERS***
About Joanne Schwehm:
Author of Unexpected Chance, My Chance (The Chance Series), Ryker and The Critic.
Joanne was born and raised in Rochester, NY and currently resides near our Nation’s Capital with her husband and two sons. Romance is one of Joanne’s favorite things and thankfully, she is surrounded by it. Joanne firmly believes when that unexpected chance comes, take it. Don’t let it pass you by – you never know what you could be missing.
Author: New York Times best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills
Introductory price of $2.99 on release day for 24 hours only!
A beautiful violinist who lives next door…
The obsessed rock star who watches her…
And the one night she bares it all.
Description:
Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned.
But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems.
After being cheated on, Sebastian’s only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people.
Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who’s lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future.
He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is.
When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.
Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.
“Fairy dust is not real. This I know.” —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons
Boom!
I, Violet St. Lyons, who once believed herself the luckiest girl in the world, was born on the same day that the Violette–Sells comet was discovered. My parents, two avid stargazers, said it was a sign of how special I was and promptly named me Violet. They claimed my life had been blessed with fairy dust.
At the very least, comet residue.
I’d foolishly believed it for eighteen years, until the moment of my death.
Which was now.
Boom! Another explosion rocked the plane and metal ripped away as a section of the aircraft to my right vanished. Luggage flew through the air. People disappeared. The mom with the baby who’d sat in the aisle across from us—gone. The redheaded flight attendant who’d been collecting trash—gone. Disembodied screams echoed from the surrounding passengers as my own scream took up most of the space in my head. Air sucked at us viciously from the outside as a tornado of people banged around the space and one by one got pulled out into the swirling abyss.
I watched, helplessly transfixed, as I sat between my parents, gripping each of their hands as the plane we’d boarded six hours earlier for Dublin spiraled toward the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to die. My mother was already dead, a twisted piece of shrapnel sticking grotesquely from her chest as her head lolled around her neck. Blood had already soaked her shirt, yet I refused to let go of her hand. She’d be okay. We were always okay. We were the St. Lyons family of Manhattan, an icon of old money wealth with deep political ties. Page six of the NewYork Times featured pictures of us on a monthly basis. We couldn’t die on a plane.
Reality dawned as we plummeted. The yellow breathing apparatus dropped and dangled in my face, taunting me with its pointlessness. Fire and black smoke boiled in front of us where the cockpit had been, and my mind recognized that the pilots had to be dead. Just a few minutes ago, they’d come over the intercom and announced that the plane was making its descent into Dublin Airport exactly on schedule.
Then the first explosion had gone off.
Bits of debris flew around, narrowly missing me. My elderly father grabbed my hand and squeezed, his face drawn back in a horrible grimace.
Paralyzed in my seat, we spun like a drunken top, and a part of my brain noticed the sun was rising, its pink tinge lending a soft glow, catching the reflection of clouds and making them silver-lined. The rocky coast of Ireland glittered in the distance. Mocking me. We’d been headed there to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.
Just then my violin case flew past my head from the overhead compartment and crashed against the wall of the plane. Shards flew. I shuddered and wanted to vomit. God, help us. We were here because of me. Our deaths were my fault. I spared a glance at the diamond promise ring Geoff had given me before we’d left.
Would the Mayor of New York’s son go on without me?
The air was turbulent yet thin, and my chest tightened as dizziness pulled at me. I resisted. Had to stay awake. Had to be with my dad. I was younger, stronger, faster. My eyes went to the gaping hole in the plane. Had to think ahead. Plan. Water would fill up the plane on impact, ensuring we’d sink rapidly.
My fear escalated as the ocean rushed at us, its surface choppy and ominous. I took in a giant breath and braced myself. We hit at an angle, the plane a torpedo as it sliced into the sea. Daddy disappeared, ejected by the impact, and I yanked on my seat belt, unclicking it to go after him. Heart thundering, I sent a final look at my mother. I wanted to take her with me, but she was gone.
Water everywhere, bubbling and gurgling as it filled up the plane. Salt water stung my eyes. People floated by, some alive as they floundered for the opening. I kept my gaze off the dead ones. Focus. Get out. Only seconds left.
I swam from my seat and fought my way out of the large hole in the plane, lungs exploding. Burning. I’d been under too long.
Daddy! I caught a glimpse of his red shirt above me and kicked harder.
Up, up, up. Must get up. My arms moved. My legs kicked. Excruciating pain. Ignore it. Almost there. So close that I could see the daylight breaking through the water.
The hottest fire I’ve ever known lit in my chest. Scorching.
Air. Just want to breathe. Just get to the top. Please.
My body rebelled and I inhaled and swallowed water, the burn racing down my throat making it spasm as I tried to cough it out. I struggled but took in more and more, the cold liquid filling my lungs.
Dark spots filled my eyes. This was drowning.
Exhausted.
Done.
My body twitched. I grew disoriented.
I let go of the fight. My hands floated in front of me.
Oblivion.
Darkness.
No bright lights, no tunnel.
No heaven, no mother, no father.
No comets.
No fairy dust.
Chapter 1
Sebastian
Two years later
“She was music with skin.” —Sebastian Tate
I tapped my foot.
What was taking her so long?
From my backyard patio in the Hollywood Hills, I watched the odd girl next door with a pair of high-powered binoculars. She flicked on her porch lights, and a low whistle came out of me at the sexy red-as-sin robe she wore, its silky material flashing around her long legs as she moved around. Her hair was down, too.
This was new. Where were the usual yoga pants? The ponytail?
She looked like she knew someone watched, but that was impossible since our outside lights were off. Even the light from the moon hit our house at such an angle that she shouldn’t be able to see us just by glancing over. She’d need a high-powered lens to know I was here.
Usually she played facing her rose garden, but this time she walked to the right side of her patio, which faced us. Weird. But she didn’t play. She just stood there without moving. Staring toward our house. Uneasiness went over me.
What was she doing?
Could she see me?
As if it were a fragile bird, she positioned the violin under her chin and began playing, arms bent and wrist poised, making the most exquisite sounds. And I don’t mean classical like Beethoven or Mozart; I mean body-thrashing, blood-thumping, hard-as-hell music that had me rooted to the ground, like she’d slapped iron chains on me.
Dark and seductive notes rose up in the air, and I got jacked up, recognizing a Led Zeppelin song, only she’d ripped its guts out and twisted it into something electric. She pushed the bow hard, upping the tempo abruptly, her movements controlled yet wild. My pulse kicked up and my eyes lingered, taking in the slightly parted toned legs and the way her breasts bounced as she jerked her arms to manipulate the strings.
Her robe slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her breast. Creamy and full, it quivered, vibrating as she moved her arms. Her rosy nipple teased me, slipping in and out of the folds of the material. I pictured my mouth there, sucking, my fingers plucking, strumming her like my guitar until she begged me to—
Stop, I told myself. Whoever Violin Girl was, she didn’t deserve me lusting after her while she was pouring her heart out with music.
I zoomed in as far as the binoculars would go, watching her surrender to the music as she bent and swayed from side to side with her eyes closed, black lashes like fans on her cheeks. Every molecule in my body focused on her, hanging on to each note she pulled from her instrument.
She finished and kept her head bowed for the longest time, perhaps letting the emotion wash over her like it had me.
The entire event was surreal, yet poignant as fucking poetry.
I let out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
Who the hell plays Stairway to Heaven with a violin? She did.
Bam! She snapped her head up, her eyes lasering in on mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention.
And then …
Standing there in the moonlight, she untied her robe and spread apart the sides ever so slightly, her movements seeming almost hesitant, as if she’d had to work herself up. Unfamiliar jealousy hit me and I panned out and checked the rest of the patio, expecting to see a lover. Whoever it was, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.
My gaze searched her patio, the backyard, her upstairs balcony. Nothing. No one.
She flicked her dark hair back and stroked the lapels of the robe, her fingers lingering over the lacy material. Suddenly the evening smacked of something more than just music. Her arms moved back and forth across the front, opening the robe halfway and then closing it as if she couldn’t make up her mind.
My eyes went up, trying to read her face. Still as a statue, the only movement was her mouth as it trembled, her full upper lip resting against the pouty lower one.
Violin Girl was trapped in a cage of darkness.
It still didn’t stop me from holding my breath, silently begging her to bare herself to me. She’d already laid bare her music. Part of me needed the rest of her.
She jerked the robe closed, making me groan in disappointment.
New York Times and USA Today best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She’s addicted to dystopian and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroines. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.
She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.
When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.
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