W. Ferraro Afraid to Fall~ Social Media/Blog Tour~ *GIVEAWAY*

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Afraid To Fall - W. Ferraro - eBookSmashwords

Title: Afraid to Fall

Author: W. Ferraro

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: October 18, 2014

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~*~PROMO TOUR: THE FIRSTS BY R.K. LILLEY @AUTHORRKLILLEY ~*~

PROMO TOUR: THE FIRSTS BY R.K. LILLEY @AUTHORRKLILLEY

Title: THE FIRSTS
Author: R.K. Lilley
Buy from Amazon | iTunes
This is a limited time boxed set of the first books in all of R.K. Lilley’s series. This set will only be available for one week, and is a savings of almost $12 from the current books’ totaled prices.
A portion of the proceeds for this boxed set will benefit the Keith Milano Memorial fund 

Set includes: 
In Flight 
Bad Things 
The Wild Side 
Breathing Fire 
In Flight (Up in the Air #1) 
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When reserved flight attendant Bianca gets one look at billionaire hotel owner James Cavendish, she loses all of her hard-won composure. For a girl who can easily juggle a tray of champagne flutes at 35,000 feet in three inch heels, she finds herself shockingly weak-kneed from their first encounter. The normally unruffled Bianca can’t seem to look away from his electrifying turquoise gaze. They hold a challenge, and a promise, that she finds impossible to resist, and she is a girl who is used to saying no and meaning it.
Bianca is accustomed to dealing with supermodels and movie stars in her job as a first class flight attendant, but James Cavendish puts them all to shame in the looks department. If only it were just his looks that she found so irresistible about the intimidating man, Bianca could have ignored his attentions. But what tempts her like never before is the dominant pull he seems to have over her from the moment they meet, and the promise of pleasure, and pain, that she reads in his eyes.
Check out an interview with R.K. Lilley and Mr. Beautiful himself, James Cavendish

Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) 

 

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Danika hasn’t had an easy life. Being insanely attracted to bad boys has never helped make it easier.
One look at Tristan, and every brain cell she possessed went up in smoke. This man was trouble with a capital T. It was a given.
She knew better. Bad boys were bad. Especially for her. Considering her history, it was crazy to think otherwise. So why did crazy have to feel so damn fine?
For as long as she could remember, Danika had been focused on the future with single-minded purpose. Tristan came along and taught her everything there was to know about letting go, and living in the present. She fell, hard and deep. Of course, that only made her impact with the ground that much more devastating.
Bad Things is about Tristan and Danika, and their train wreck of a love story. This series can be read as a standalone, or with the Up in the Air series.
Read Chapter one of Bad Things below
CHAPTER ONE OF BAD THINGS
THE BEGINNING
DANIKA
I had the strangest shiver of premonition rock my body the first time I heard Tristan’s voice. I heard it from a room away, as he said something offhanded to my boss, Jerry, and still I knew somehow that he would change my life.
I had an unruly armful of clean laundry and five dogs crowding my legs in my boss’s cramped laundry room, when I heard the front door open, and two men chatting as they entered the house. I wasn’t alarmed. It was a chaotic sort of house, with all sorts of people coming and going at all hours of the day, and I recognized the sound of Jerry’s voice instantly.
The other man that spoke was a stranger, but his voice was deep and it sort of rumbled through the house until it reached me. I had an instant and positive reaction to it. I had mixed feelings about men in general, having a rather sordid past with them as a whole, and having recently gone through a nasty breakup with a real piece of work. My ex had been an out of work, pothead loser, and he hadn’t been the first loser that I’d wasted my time on. Still, I knew right away that I adored the sound of that deep, masculine voice.
I dropped the pile of clothes into the clean laundry pile in the clean corner of the room. My laundry skills were negligible, to put it nicely. I worked for Jerry and his ex-wife Beverly, as a live in nanny/ housekeeper/dogwalker/poolgirl/gardener/ whatever they needed me to do. It was well understood that I pretty much sucked at the housekeeper part of that arrangement, but it seemed to work for us all. I’d been working for them for two years, and we were going strong. Beverly and Jerry, dysfunctional exes, and awesome co-parents that they were, had become my closest friends and two of my favorite people on the planet.
I was dressed like a slob in too short black cheer shorts and a washed out gray UNLV sweatshirt, my straight black hair pulled into a rough ponytail, and not wearing a scrap of makeup, but I went to meet the newcomer anyway. My five favorite animals on the planet dogged my steps as I padded down the hallway.
Jerry’s back was to me as I turned the corner from the hallway and into the black, stone-lined entryway, the stranger facing me. I saw at a glance that the stranger was young, sexy as hell, and straight-up Trouble with a capital T.
I knew trouble when I saw it, it being a very old friend of mine. Trouble for me was this nasty little self-destructive streak that I’d never quite been able to shake. A theme song even played in my head when I felt the big T getting close. Four Kicks was that song, and it cranked up to full volume with my first glance at him.
He was tall, and built like a linebacker, both muscular and massive. He wore a tight black T-shirt that showcased every starkly muscled inch of his chest. His tattooed arms were folded across his chest in a casually attentive stance, but his presence commanded the room.
His face was handsome, with clean, even features that were dominated by pale golden eyes. He had a straight slash of a nose, with a rounded tip that would have brought him from handsome to pretty boy if he wasn’t so damned big, and full lips on a wide mouth that popped killer dimples at me as it hitched up playfully. Those dimples were pure big T. His pitch-black hair was cropped short, with dark stubble lining his jaw. His easy smile was playful, but still managed to be sinister. It was a heady combination for someone who was on a first name basis with the big T.
Jerry turned to see what the other man was smiling about. He was a middle-aged man, short and balding, with a slight build. His face was far from handsome, with close-set eyes and a big nose, but I thought he had one of the best smiles in the world.
“Danika,” Jerry said with that world-class smile. “This is my buddy, Tristan. He’s going to be crashing on the couch for a few days. He’s…uh… between residences.”
I mentally groaned. Bev was going to kill him.
One glance at Tristan and I knew he wasn’t just a buddy. Jerry had a spotty history with helping out what he always thought was the latest rising star. He had big dreams of managing the next big rock band, and he took those dreams to extremes. He and Bev were both technically attorneys, but she was the only lawyer in the house that you could call employed. Jerry was too busy collecting unsigned bands to practice law.
I gave Jerry a pointed look. “Bev is going to string you up. She said that if you brought home one more out-of-work musician, that she was going to kick you out, and then I would get upgraded to a bigger room.”
He grimaced. “Now, now, don’t go jumping to conclusions. Tristan has a job. Look, he’s not even carrying a guitar.”
I eyed Tristan up. “What’s the job?”
Jerry answered for him, which let me know that he was full of it. “He’s a club promoter.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is that the best you can do? That’s Vegas code for unemployed, Jerry. My pothead ex-boyfriend even calls himself a club promoter, and I don’t think he ever even leaves his house. You need to think up something better before Bev gets home.”
Tristan laughed, not looking even slightly offended by our exchange. “I am a club promoter, and I do also happen to be in a band,” he said in a low, sexy drawl.
Oh lord, I thought, Four Kicks by Kings of Leon playing at full volume in my head as I heard his voice at close range. And I tried to pretend that I hadn’t even heard that sexy as hell laugh. I knew that we were going to be a dangerous combination. Bad things were going to happen if we spent too much time around each other.
“Don’t let Bev hear you say that,” I warned him. I was really just trying to help Jerry out. I didn’t want him to get into trouble with Bev again, and he never seemed to have a clue just what would set her off, even though it was always very obvious to me.
I sighed, knowing that this wouldn’t be easy to fix. I tensed as I heard the loud garage door opening across the house. Bev’s house was a huge, rambling, ranch style house, but the garage door was so loud that it always announced her presence.
I gave Jerry a stern look, sometimes feeling like his mother, even though he was forty-five, and I was barely twenty-one. I pointed at him. “I know what we need to do, but you’re going to owe me. I hate lying to Bev.” It was true. I was nowhere near nonchalant about the deception I was about to undergo, and I wanted him to know it. Beverley was my hero. No one had ever helped me as much, or been as supportive of me, as she had. Plus, I just liked her. She was my closest friend, and I’d developed a serious case of hero worship for the successful, forty-eight year old woman.
“Tristan is a friend of mine,” I told them. “Do not mention the words club promoter, or band. He is a plain old out of work student, and crashing for one week on the couch. We met at UNLV last semester. Got it?”
Jerry nodded, giving me a grateful smile. “You’re the best, Danika. I owe you.”
He sure did. I looked at Tristan, who was giving me that playful smile of his, as though we hadn’t just barely met.
“You’re a sassy little thing. I like that,” he murmured, just as Bev and her boys rounded the corner that led from the garage and into the main living area.
Ivan and Mat caught sight of me and the dogs swarming at my heels and rushed me with huge whoops. Ivan was an unabashedly diabolical eight- year-old, and Mat was a precocious six-year-old, and the two of them combined were more than a handful, but I loved them to pieces.
Mat went straight for a tackle to my midsection, while Ivan caught the biggest dog, Mango, in a bear hug. Mango was a tan-colored bloodhound. She was nine years old and left a trail of slobber in her wake. She was a terrible guard dog. We were all convinced that if the place was robbed she’d just see it as an opportunity to lick more faces.
Mat squeezed my waist so hard that he drew a little grunt out of me. The second biggest dog, Dot, took exception to the rough handling. He growled menacingly at the six-year old. He was a big black Belgian Shepherd, and none of us had any doubts that he was a good guard dog. A little too good, in fact. He’d taken to being my own personal protector, even against the other inhabitants of the house, and that included the boys.
I shushed Dot, hugging Mat back. He was a skinny blond kid with gorgeous blue eyes.
“You said you’d make us cookies when we got back!” Mat told me excitedly.
I nodded. “Okay. You gonna help me make them, or you want to go play while I cook?”
“Play!” he shouted. I didn’t know if it was Mat, or being six, but the boy had a serious volume control issue. It just made me laugh.
“Okay. I bet you’ll be able to smell when they’re done.”
“Yes!” he shouted, even louder, then took off for his room.
Ivan straightened, looking around at all of the adults and pursing his lips. He had light brown hair, was tall for his age, and had soft brown eyes like his dad. He was a funny kid. He had moments of being a shameless brat, but just as many moments of absolute charm. “I want to play, too, Danika, but I’ll help you if you really, really need me to.”
I smiled at him. “I got it covered, buddy. You go on and play.”
He took off, never saying a word to his dad or to Tristan. Typical eight-year-old, only paying attention to the one making cookies.
Beverly and I shared a look. She gave her boys a laughing eye roll before heading the same way they’d gone, towards her bedroom. She’d barely spared Tristan a glance. It wasn’t a good sign.
“Jerry, a word,” she called out, still moving toward her room. It didn’t bode well.
He swore under his breath, but followed her.
I headed toward the kitchen. I felt Tristan following me.
The house was set up with an open floor plan. It was huge, but the entryway, living room, dining room, kitchen, and family room all shared one massive space, so it was a straight shot into the kitchen once I got around the giant L-shaped sofa that dominated the living room.
The house was a strange combination of shabby chic, leaning way further in the direction of shabby. Beverley was very successful as a worker’s compensation attorney, and she came from a rich family, so money wasn’t an issue when it came to the house. It was colossal, and in one of the nicest gated communities in Vegas, but the house was lined with outdoor carpeting and the furniture was in desperate need of an update. The only saving grace in the house was the spectacular artwork that she collected. Words couldn’t even express how much I appreciated her fine eye for upcoming artists, but they were the only saving grace when it came to the house’s aesthetics.
I understood why she didn’t update a lot of it. New carpet would be ruined in just a few weeks by her unruly dogs and crazy kids, and the dark green leather sofa had the entire back gnawed off. I couldn’t imagine a new sofa wouldn’t receive the same treatment.
I had to unlock the latch that had been installed on the side of the refrigerator before I opened it. Mango liked to eat sticks of butter when it wasn’t latched tight…
I pulled out a plastic tube that was filled with chocolate chip cookie dough. I heard a clear, disappointed groan behind me.
I turned to look at Tristan, arching a brow at him. “What? You don’t like chocolate chip?”
He shook his head at me, still showing off one dangerous dimple in a half smile. I really wished he’d put those dimples away. They were counter- productive to my peace of mind.
“You’re joking, right?” he asked pointedly. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Um, about what?”
“Cookie dough out of a plastic tube? Pre-made?” I shrugged. “It’s easy and fast, and they taste fine.”
He shook his head again. “Show me to your  baking supplies. I can’t stand by and watch this.”
I scowled at him. “You’re bossy for an out-of-work houseguest,” I told him.
“I have a job. Several actually. But yeah, I’m bossy. Now show me to your flour.”
I kept scowling, but I was walking from the  kitchen and into the walk-in pantry while I did it. I waved a hand at the area that kind of held the baking supplies. The pantry was hardly well organized, so he would probably have to dig around to get everything he needed for cookies.
I left him to it, going back into the kitchen to pre- heat the oven and grease a cookie sheet. I put out a large mixing bowl, measuring cups, and any other incidentals I thought he might need for baking. It was the least I could do if he was actually going to do the baking.
I shrugged out of my sweatshirt, suddenly warm. It was a hundred and ten degrees outside, but you wouldn’t know it by the way I normally froze inside of the A/C’d to death house. It wasn’t normal for me to get so warm inside for no reason at all.
I was wearing a thin white tank and sitting on the counter when Tristan strolled back into the kitchen, his arms full of baking supplies.
He set them on the counter near the mixing bowl, lining them up neatly. His biceps bulged with the smallest movement. It was fascinating.
“Salt?” he asked me, his brow raised. I blinked, trying to process what he’d said. I pointed behind me after a few awkward moments.
He moved towards me without a word, and I saw my folly then. The cupboard I’d pointed to was directly behind me. I should have just grabbed it for him.
He didn’t seem to mind, moving uncomfortably close to me to reach behind me. His upper chest got so close to my face that I could smell him. He smelled divine, so divine that I closed my eyes for a second to take it in.
He had to reach up, so his hip grazed my inner thigh as he shamelessly moved between my legs to get closer.
I gasped.
“Sorry,” he said, backing up, the salt in his hand. I saw his eyes flick briefly down my body before he turned away, setting the salt beside the other ingredients.
“So you’re the nanny, huh? You are not what I pictured when Jerry said he had a live-in nanny.”
I glared at his back. “What did you picture?”
“I don’t really know. I didn’t have a clear picture in my head. I just wasn’t expecting someone like you.” He turned his head to flick me another unreadable glance.
I gave him a very unfriendly look, offended, and a little wounded. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing bad. Quit giving me evil eyes. Nannies just don’t usually look like you. You’re like what Hollywood would cast to be a nanny to add sex appeal to a movie. You’re sexy. Really sexy. Don’t play coy. You know you’re gorgeous.” I stopped glaring, but I was wary of the compliments.
“Relax, okay?” he said, studying my face. “I’m not hitting on you, and I won’t. What are you, like eighteen? Way too young for me. I’m just stating facts. Normally women don’t appreciate other women as hot as you underfoot.”
I was glaring again. “I’m twenty-one, and Bev is my best friend. I’ve been working for them for two years.”
He threw up his hands, giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be a dick. It just surprised me that you were the nanny Jerry was telling me about. He gave me no hints that you were, well, hot.”
“How old are you?” I asked him, still smarting from the too young comment.
“Twenty-six.”
“That’s not that old,” I told him.
“I know. Just too old to be dating eighteen-year olds, or even twenty-one year olds. Frankly, though, I’m bad with women my own age, too, when it comes to relationships, which is why I don’t do them.”
I couldn’t help it. I had to ask. “So what do you do?”
“Hookups. Brief, casual hookups. How about you?”
I shook my head, pursing my lips at him. I couldn’t quite believe that we had jumped to this already. He was a man to be careful of, to be sure. “I do relationships. No exceptions. Never had a casual hookup in my life.”
He sighed, measuring some flour into the mixing bowl. “Well, I guess that makes things less complicated. We’ll be friends, then.” He shot me a sidelong smile that was downright irresistible. I thought that this was one of the strangest conversations I’d ever had, being that we had just met. Only, it didn’t feel like we’d just met. He spoke to me like he’d known me forever, and it was hard to refuse anything he said in that low voice of his.
I nodded, giving him my own, rather begrudging smile. “Okay, friends, since we’ll be living under the same roof for the next week.”
“Okay, then. My first job as your friend will be to show you how to make the best chocolate chip cookies in the world.”
The Wild Side (The Wild Side #1) 
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Are you ready to take a walk? Alasdair Masters is in a rut. He just hit forty, has been nearly celibate for the past year, and his life has turned into a daily sequence of lonely patterns that revolve around avoiding human contact.
His tidy life is turned on its head when a hot young blonde at the gym that’s been pseudo-stalking him decides to rock his world. A very young blonde. Way, way too young for him. The problem is, he can’t seem to tell her no, and she just keeps coming back for more.
It doesn’t help that he’s ninety percent sure she’s a criminal, and still, he can’t seem to turn her down. What is a dull introvert to do when a chaotic cyclone that oozes sexuality comes twisting into his life?
At first, he thinks she’ll give him a heart attack, but after his twenty-year marriage ended a year ago, he’s been a little lost, and when she comes crashing into his life, he realizes that he’s never felt more alive.
Breathing Fire (Heretic Daughters #1 
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Every head start has a price…
Seven years ago, Jillian burned just about every bridge she ever had. Being a lifelong fugitive, she’d seen it as her only chance to get away clean, but it had taken its toll.
In a world where those with supernatural powers must stay hidden from normal society, being a creature that even most of the supernatural community considered a myth did not make for an easy life. And when the ex she ran away from finds her again, it’s about to get much harder. It doesn’t help that she’s still hopelessly in love with him…

OTHER BOOKS OF R.K. LILLEY

R.K. Lilley lives in Colorado with her husband and their two beautiful sons. She’s had a lot of interesting jobs, from being a first class flight attendant, to being a stablehand, but swears she never knew what hard work was until she had children. She’s been addicted to both reading and writing fiction since she can remember. She loves to travel, read, hike, paint, game, watch anime, and make the most of every single day. She is the author of the erotic romance novels In Flight, Mile High, Grounded, and the novella, Lana.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HAPPY RELEASE DAY: The Invitation 2: Surrender by Roxy Sloane

HAPPY RELEASE DAY: The Invitation 2: Surrender by Roxy Sloane

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Release Day Event

INVITATION 2 ROXY SLOANE B&N EBOOK COVER (1)

Book Title: The Invitation 2: Surrender
Author: Roxy Sloane
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: September 28. 2014
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Synopsis

 

Welcome to your wildest fantasy…

The invitation arrives out of nowhere. No name. No address. Just one simple challenge.

‘Play with me.’

The games are intoxicating, each one more thrilling than the last. And pleasure is the ultimate prize.

He knows my secrets. He sees my darkest desires. He can drive me to ecstasy — and I don’t even know his name.

This is your invitation. Now its your turn to decide.

Are you ready?

Discover the red-hot new erotic series from the author of THE SEDUCTION.

 

excerpt

 

The server arrives with a fresh drink on her tray.

“I didn’t order this,” I say, confused.

“Courtesy of the gentleman at the bar.” She deposits it in front of me. “Oh, and he said to give you this.”

It’s another black gift-box.

My heart stops.

“Who is he?” I demand, twisting around. “Can you point him out to me, please?”

She looks over at the bar. “He’s gone now, sorry.”

Damn.

The waitress leaves, and I turn my attention back to the box. How is this possible? Nobody knows I’m here tonight. But it’s the same gold ribbon. The same cream card. My name in gold ink.

The box is smaller this time. But it’s definitely from the same person.

I slide the invitation out from under the ribbon and open it.

Play with me.

Intriguing.

I glance around, my skin prickling with awareness. I’m wearing the lingerie he sent, and suddenly, it feels so intimate. My calves slide against each other in the silk stockings, the garters pressing into my thighs. My nipples stiffen against the lacy bra.

What is he planning next?

I take a deep breath and slowly untie the ribbon. Inside, I find a silver butterfly nestled in a cocoon of black tissue paper.

I pause. What is this?

I take the butterfly out of the box. It’s made of smooth, matte silicone and fits in the palm of my hand. The body of the butterfly is ribbed, and adjustable satin straps hook to each corner of the wings.

Suddenly, the butterfly buzzes in my hand.

My mouth falls open.

Holy shit. It’s a vibrator.

I can’t stop a giggle of surprise slipping from my lips. The couple at the next booth look over, so I quickly move the box out of sight below my table.

I gaze at the toy, my excitement rising. I’ve seen these on the website where I shop for all my sexy accessories, but I’ve never used one before. You strap it around your thighs so the butterfly nestles against your clit. There’s either an on/off switch or a remote that controls the vibrations. But I don’t see a switch.

I check the box again. No remote control.

Realization crashes through me. The mystery man must have it. That means he’s close. He’s here.

My pulse races as I scan the room. He has to be watching me. But everyone seems to be paying attention to their own dining companions. No one cares that I’m over here at the corner table with a vibrator in my hands.

I glance down again. The butterfly looks so cute nestling in the tissue paper, and the contrast between its innocent appearance and illicit purpose gives me a thrill. Nobody would know if I put it on.

Nobody except the man holding the controls, hidden somewhere out of sight.

“Excuse me.” A different server arrives at my table. I slam the box shut with a yelp.

“This is for you,” he says, looking bored. He holds out a new envelope, and I take it, my cheeks flushing. Before I can ask anything else, he walks away.

I take a deep breath, and unfold the card. There’s only one word on the paper.

Now.

 

Meet the Author

 

Romance junkie, mom, and legal eagle. I have a dirty mind and I’m not afraid to use it.

 

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~*~* BLOG TOUR & GIVEAWAY: TO TEMPT AN EARL BY KRISTIN VAYDEN ~*~*

BLOG TOUR & GIVEAWAY: TO TEMPT AN EARL BY KRISTIN VAYDEN

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Title: To Tempt an Earl (Greenford Waters Legacy, #2)
Author: Kristin Vayden
Genre: Regency
Series: Greenford Waters Legacy
Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing

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Portrait of young beautiful girl. Fashion photo

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Synopsis

Tempting an Earl is not for the faint of heart.
Thank heavens Bethanny is anything but faint!
Now, honest, perhaps–too honest, but never faint!
After all, why flirt when you can tempt? And why the devil would a woman choose to swoon, when she could be kissed?
Of course, she’d never try something so…honest, on anyone but Lord Graham.
He’s the only one she wants.
He alone has her heart.
He hadn’t a clue.
So it was only polite that she tell him.
Now, if only her blasted guardian, the Duke of Clairmont, would see Graham as more of a suitor than his old friend.
Because Graham is anything but old and most certainly not just a friend, not after that kiss, or that touch.
Though, if she were to lay all her cards on the table–which any gently bred woman ought–he wasn’t completely aware it was her mouth, her lips, or her touch.
But that’s beside the point now, isn’t it?

Loving her was betrayal, resisting her was impossible.

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excerpt

“I wasn’t aware that this part of the house was open to the guests.” A rich masculine voice startled her from her musing.

“Pardon?” Bethanny immediately stood, straightened her posture, and felt the wild gallop of her heart.

This couldn’t be good.

She was alone, with a stranger, on a secluded balcony.

The duke was going to murder her.

If she made it out without being ruined.

Dear Lord.

“It is not. What, might I ask, are you doing here?” she asked in her firmest tone.

“I only just arrived, and, after the evening I’ve had, found I needed a moment to regain my composure. I’m a friend of the duke and am quite certain I’m allowed on his private balcony. What about you?” he asked, a slightly teasing tone to his voice.

Bethanny narrowed her eyes. They had adjusted to the dim light, and as recognition dawned, her heart hammered in her chest.

Graham.

“I’m quite certain I’m permitted to be here as well,” she responded, not quite knowing what to say. Did he recognize her? Was he simply teasing because he already had figured out who she was?

“Ah, a friend of the duchess then?” he asked lightly as he made his way toward her.

He definitely did not recognize her.

However, she couldn’t determine if this was a bad thing or a good one. And it was rather dark. After a moment’s deliberating, she decided to play along.

What could it hurt?

“You could say that.” She shrugged. Then, feeling mischievous, she lowered her gaze and offered her most flirtations smile, hoping his eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could perhaps notice it.

At least she hoped it was flirtatious.

After a moment, she risked a glance up to his shadowed features; a playful grin was tipping his lips and showed off the fairest hint of those beloved dimples she so fondly remembered.

She sighed… inwardly, of course.

“It’s quite a nice view, peaceful, if I may say so.” He came to stand beside her.

He was taller than she remembered, and possibly broader as well, but she couldn’t be sure with the faint light.

“Exactly why I came to this very place.”

“Is it quite the crush inside then?” he asked. There was a slight lilt to his voice, not quite a brogue, but not the crisp English she was accustomed to hearing. He must spend quite a bit of time at his estate in Edinburgh to have taken on the faint accent.

She would have to thank Lady Southridge later for all the helpful information regarding her brother.

“Crush would be an understatement,” she replied too quickly, her tone a bit wry.

“Not a fan of the crowds?” he asked, his tone light. “Or were there far too many gentlemen seeking the attentions of so beautiful a lady?”

Even in the darkness, his gaze was powerful, spearing right through her causing a myriad of strange sensations to swirl around in her belly.

“Or perhaps I simply wanted a moment to myself.” she answered, her tone far more breathless than she would have liked.

“Perhaps.” He shrugged.

“You don’t believe me.” She narrowed her eyes.

“No,” he replied, unfazed.

“Why ever not?” Bethanny asked, turning to face him fully.

“In my experience, ladies do not visit deserted balconies unless they wish to be found.”

Slightly shaking her head, Bethanny replied, “Which is exactly why I choose to use the private balcony? The one closed off from the party?” she asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Well…”

“I thought not.” She shrugged her shoulder, a smile teasing her lips at besting him.

“You’re a cheeky one,” he replied, his tone holding a hint of awe.

“I prefer intelligent.”

“Yes, I believe you would.” He nodded, his grin widening.

“That sounded dangerously like an insult, my lord,” she teased.

“No, no insult… simply… delayed respect.”

“Respect?” Bethanny asked with a dubious tone.

“Indeed. Certainly a lovely lady such as yourself has to be aware that social functions can be quite… tedious.”

“I’m sure the duke will be thrilled you think so highly of his party,” she replied, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You mistake my meaning. People can be tedious. Petty even. It’s simply… refreshing to speak with a woman who doesn’t fall into those categories.”

“I do believe that was a compliment.”

“It was, and you should take it as such.”

“Why, thank you.” Bethanny stepped back and performed a deep curtsey, as if being presented at court.

“And a sense of humor to boot. I might have to actually find out your name.” Graham chuckled, his dimples in full view.

“And ruin the mystery? I think not.” Bethanny rose from her curtsey, her heart pounding.

“I do love a good mystery.”

“Avid reader?” Bethanny asked.

“Yes… but that’s not what I was referring to.”

His posture changed, as did his expression, and at once, Bethanny’s heart took flight because some instinct, some feminine awareness told her with all certainty that he was no longer simply teasing an innocent.

He was pursuing.

“Oh?” Her tone was breathless to her own ears, and she silently scolded herself for the betrayal of weakness.

“So, mysterious miss of the duke’s balcony…” he teased, offering her a dramatic nickname.

“Is that the best you can come up with? Mysterious miss of the duke’s balcony?” she asked, a laugh escaping her restraint.

“I thought it was quite clever myself.” Graham paused his pursuit, his smile widening.

“It sounds like a Gothic novel.”

“You know, you’re quite right. I could have a future there if I ever so desire.”

“Writing?”

“Gad, no. Offering my service for creating titles.”

“I’m not sure that’s a lucrative endeavor.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged and took another step forward. “But you must admit, you’d be curious hearing that title. I know my curiosity is quite piqued.”

Bethanny took a deep breath, as deep as her corset allowed, and drew up all her courage. “Perhaps. I might be curious… but there would have to be something more than a catchy title, my lord.” She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but it was a game she had dreamed of playing since she’d first seen Lord Graham.

The memory of him trading banter with Berty over dinner one night flashed to her memory. Most lords wouldn’t give a little girl the time of day, yet Lord Graham had traded wit with her, enjoying himself even. Bethanny had been envious of her little sister’s ability to bait him. She’d sworn that someday she’d have her turn.

That day had finally come.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t recognize her. Regardless, he was still there speaking with her.

And for now, that was enough.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her nerves got the best of her and, rather than speak, she dropped her fan.

Likely because she had forgotten she had brought it in the first place.

It clattered to the floor lightly, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment at her own clumsiness.

“Allow me,” Lord Graham spoke.

“No I’ve—” Bethanny’s eyes flew open as she knelt down to retrieve her fan.

As luck would have it, her elbow soundly clocked Lord Graham’s head as he rose from retrieving the offending object.

“Ow!” He reached up to rub the surely sore area.

“I’m so sorry!” Bethanny spoke, horrified.

“Blo—er… ah, that… is fine, miss.” He closed his eyes a moment, likely from the dull pain her elbow had needlessly inflicted on his person.

“I’m ever so sorry, my lord!” Bethanny felt her face heat with a scarlet blush that had to make her practically glow. She certainly felt like it. Without thinking, she reached up to his scalp and felt for the knot, her thumb grazing slightly over the skin as to not cause him discomfort, much like she had done a million times to her sisters.

But Lord Graham was most definitely not her sister…

Her hands stilled as she realized just what she was doing. “Forgive me, my lord.” She quickly withdrew her hands and took a step back, belatedly realizing just how close she had been to him. The scent of cinnamon and cedar hung in the air, wrapping a spell of enticement around her, beckoning her to come closer. She started to take a step back, away from the temptation, but his hand at her back stopped her.

Practically burned through her, or so it felt.

“I’m quite well. However, I thank you for your concern,” he whispered, his voice intimate.

“I—I’m usually not quite so… graceless,” Bethanny answered, her thoughts muddled by the intense gaze with which he captivated her. In the moonlight, his amber eyes were silver, his golden-hued skin a soft buttery gold. He was beautiful.

“I’m quite thankful you are… you see, I was trying to find some excuse to hold you, and you neatly provided me with the perfect opportunity,” he murmured, his gaze leaving hers and traveling down the line of her jaw and the curve of her nose before resting on her lips.

Dear Lord, he is going to kiss me.

“I do think you could have done without the knot I gave you at the top of your head,” she replied, her words teasing but her tone far from it.

“A small price to pay.” He shrugged. “However, I do believe there is a custom, when one gets an injury.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed, usually, the injured party is given a kiss.”

“Is that so? Silly me. I thought that was only practiced in the nursery.” Bethanny raised a challenging eyebrow as her heart raced, beating an excited rhythm that hoped he would make good on his word and, indeed, kiss her. However, it would never do to appear too eager.

“I have it on good authority that it is still practiced outside of the nursery as well… so, being with tradition and all, I would appreciate a kiss.” His dimples deepened as his smile widened then relaxed as his gaze once again became deep and soulful, searching hers.

“I cannot see the harm in upholding tradition. If you’ll simply bow your head—” Bethanny began, knowing full well that was not his intention.

“Of course.”

And before Bethanny could even close her eyes, his lips caressed hers. The touch was soft, lingering and velvety. His warm breath tickled as he drew back slightly. Her eyes, which hadn’t closed, gazed directly at his. As if spoken out loud, his gaze asked for permission to kiss her again. At her slight nod, his lips met hers once more; however, this time, Bethanny closed her eyes, not wanting anything to distract from her first kiss, and as she had always hoped, it was from Lord Graham.

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Green ford Waters Legacy

The Only Reason For the London Season

Prequel Novella to What the Duke Wants

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About the Author

Kristin Vayden

Kristin’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! She loves to make soap, sauerkraut, sourdough bread and gluten free muffins. Life is full of blessings and she praises God for the blessed and abundant life He’s given her.

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FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON

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~*~*BLOG TOUR~*~*~ THE LOVER’S GAME BY J.C. REED ~*~*

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The Lover’s Game

by J.C. Reed

Genre: Mature New Adult/ Adult Contemporary Romance

Recommended for ages 18 and up.

 

When love is a game…

 

After having her heart broken, Brooke tries to rebuild her life and closes herself off from the one man she loved deeply. When she meets Grayson, a photographer, she has no idea that her new boss will offer her more than she bargained for. The pay is great, her new friends more than welcoming and everything seems to be running well…until everyone insists she find herself a new suitor during a night out.

 

Jett knows how to play games. He is used to getting attention from everyone except the beautiful dark haired woman who doesn’t like to be fooled with and doesn’t trust him as far as she can spit. He wants Brooke but, more than that, he wants to own her, and the only way to get her is to make her owe him…against her will.

 

 

And what Jett owns, Jett keeps forever

 

AVAILABLE ON:

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Find the The Lover’s Game on Goodreads:

 No Exceptions #2 (No Exceptions, #2)

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***Giveaway***

1x Signed paperback copy of THE LOVER’S GAME

1x sterling silver custom book pendant necklace $200 value

$100 Amazon Gift Card

Open INTERNATIONAL

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About J.C. REED

J.C. Reed is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of SURRENDER YOUR LOVE series. She writes steamy contemporary fiction with a touch of mystery. When she’s not typing away on her keyboard, forgetting the world around her, she dreams of returning to the beautiful mountains of Wyoming. You can also find her chatting on Facebook with her readers or spending time with her two children.

Connect with Author

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Other Books: in the No Exceptions series:

The Lover’s Secret (Book 1) is available now:  Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes~Goodreads

The Lover’s Game (Book 2) is available now: Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Kobo

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Worldwide, print and ebook

~*~*Natalie Graham’s Wedding Anniversary AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT~*~*

So it’s Natalie Graham’s Wedding anniversary today and I want to share her amazing book with you all. I’m a huge fan of this book so this may not be the first time you have heard me rant about it! Here is a little about her book and a little about herself.

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Synopsis

Olivia Stevens is a young, troubled girl from London, England, just about to leave sixth form, into a world full of love, lust, heartbreak and betrayal.

Olivia has had a crush on her teacher, twenty-six year old, Mr Matthews for the last few years but what happens when those feelings are reciprocated? And what happens when someone with a grudge against her gets in between her and her dream man?

Forced to face fears from her childhood, Olivia’s life isn’t what she thought it was destined to be, the people in her life aren’t who she thought they were.

Francessca’s Romance Reviews

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Reviews

I’ve had this book on my kindle since way before Christmas, and if it wasn’t for friend encouraging me to read if may have stayed there for a while. I’m so glad I read it, it has to be one of my favourite books ever !!!!! ~ Kelly’s Kindle Konfessions

I can honestly say this book is in one of my top 10 favorites I’ve read so far & I’ve read a lot. It was romantic, heart warming, heart wrenching, sad, exciting, adventurous, shocking and steamy. ~ Goodreads Review

I just know that I will be suffering from a book hangover from this and I can’t wait to read more. I highly recommend this 5* read 🙂 ~ Goodreads Review

So, I’ve been sitting here for a while now; just trying to get my thoughts straight enough about this book to write a half decent review.
I’m sorry to say, that isn’t going to happen and that’s BECAUSE I’m in mourning. I’m mourning the end of this fabulous book. ~ Amazon Review

The more I read the more I got hooked.
The cover was accurate no fairy tale ending and cliffhanger like no other. ~ Amazon Review

WOW!! Well let me start by saying that I have over 200 books on my kindle that I have only have for a few months now and I have read them all..I have never left a review for any book..Not because I dont like them normally its because I go straight to my next book..But this book was fantastic.. ~ Amazon Review

Purchase This Amazing book

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Teasers

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About The Author

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Natalie Graham is an English, indie, e-book author. She originally wrote for fun, choosing to write short stories until she wrote her debut novel – Broken Ever After; the first in the Ever After series and Breaking Her, a companion novella. She is currently working on the sequel to BEA to be released early 2014 and has plans for another series tentatively scheduled for 2015.

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