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Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Review + Trailer Reveal: FOREPLAY (The Ivy Chronicles, #1) by Sophie Jordan [w/Excerpt]


Before she goes after the life she's always wanted, she's about to find the one she needs…


Foreplay
(The Ivy Chronicles, #1)
By: Sophie Jordan 
Publisher: William Morrow
Expected Pub Date: November 5, 2013
ARC Galley received from Edelweiss 
Genre: New Adult | Contemp. Romance

Pepper has been hopelessly in love with her best friend’s brother, Hunter, for like ever. He is the key to everything she’s always craved: security, stability, family. But she needs Hunter to notice her as more than just a friend. Even though she has kissed exactly one guy, she has just the plan to go from novice to rock star in the bedroom—take a few pointers from someone who knows what he’s doing.

Her college roommates have the perfect teacher in mind. But bartender Reece is nothing like the player Pepper expects. Yes, he is beyond gorgeous, but he’s also dangerous, deep—with a troubled past. Soon what started as lessons in attraction are turning both their worlds around, and showing just what can happen when you go past foreplay and get to what’s real…
AddGR..






As a huge fan of the recent New Adult genre bloom, I was super excited to get to read Sophie Jordan’s New Adult title, FOREPLAY. Having read her Young Adults books, I knew I really enjoyed her writing and let’s face it - who can resist this title or cover?!

Pepper has been secretly in love with her friend’s brother, Hunter, for years. All of a sudden, he is single and she knows she needs to act fast before another girl swoops in and snatches him back off the market. The only problem is that she is a very inexperienced virgin, with only one (badly done) kiss. The solution: take her friend’s advice and go try to find experience with the “easy bartender”, Reece.

Sounds good, right? I thought so, too. However, I felt like at the 40% mark, Jordan was just letting the two main characters really get to know each other. Up to that point, it seemed as though they were just going around and around and around and around in circles. Also, for some reason, I know Pepper had a troubled past, but her constant self-doubt and lack of confidence – which is normal at any age when dealing with dating – but this was so bad it got to the point that I felt like it was distracting me from concentrating on finding the plot.

Admittedly, FOREPLAY did pick up around the halfway point and Pepper and Reece FINALLY has to start interaction, apart from small talk, sudden rescues, and the like. They have a great chemistry and it was fun to watch them get to know each other and start to feel the tug at the heartstrings.


Overall, FOREPLAY was good, but you have to be very patient and wait for the middle of the novel for things to actually get going. While I liked it, I cannot say I loved it and am still debating if I will read the next book.
Review by: Victoria Lucas



ORDER FOREPLAY HERE:

                                                                                                          
“There he is.” Emerson shook her head. “I can’t believe I gave him to you. He’s so damn hot.” She nudged me encouragingly and waggled one of her finely arched eyebrows. “You better climb all over that or I’m going to punch you. No backing down.”

I stood several yards back from the bar, tucked half behind Emerson as I scoped out the bartender undetected. Her words didn’t faze me. “You know the small matter of his interest in me, or lack of interest, might come into play.”

She looked back at me. “You’re kidding, right? You look good tonight. Better than most of these overdone peahens prancing around in here shaking their tail feathers his way. You've got something they don’t.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yes. You’ve got …” She paused, searching for the word. “… a freshness to you.”

I winced, feeling rather as if she'd just called me a "nice girl." I couldn’t seem to escape that moniker.

The bartender (I really needed to learn his name) wore another Mulvaney’s T-shirt. This one a soft-looking gray cotton with blue script across the chest. I had a flash of myself wearing that shirt and nothing else, wrapped up in his scent. Wrapped up in him. Sucking in a breath, I shook off the wicked image. Probably every girl who walked up to him entertained that fantasy—along with a few choice others that I probably didn’t need to visualize. That thought made me feel decidedly un-special. I had to somehow stand out from the rest of them, and I wasn’t convinced my freshness would do the trick.

He looked as good as ever if my memory served. Better. A body made for sin and a face that was too masculine to be beautiful, but the sight of it did something to me. Made me feel boneless and trembly all over.

“No backing down,” I echoed, my resolve still there, burning hot inside me, keeping me from turning and running out of the building.

It was just the two of us tonight. Georgia was off with Harris.
“Okay,” Em announced. “I think we've re-conned long enough.

 Let’s move in.”

Her words sent a wave of panic washing through me. “It’s crowded …”

“It’s crowded every night. Unless you want to come stalk him on a Monday. Assuming he’s even working then.”
I shook my head. No. No more delays.

“Let’s go then. You should feel good. You look great.”

I glanced down. The jeans I wore belonged to Georgia. They were too tight, but Emerson said that was the whole point. You've got the perfect curves. Show them off. The blouse was Georgia’s, too. Various shades of orange and yellow. Very bohemian in style and flouncy. Emerson vowed that it went great with my hair. It was wide-necked, and every time I pulled it up over one shoulder, it slipped down the other one. Again, the whole point, according to Emerson.

As we inched toward the bar, Emerson shoved me in front of her. There were only three people working the counter, and we made certain to approach the side he was working.

I watched as he poured beer into a pitcher, admiring the flex of his bicep. His gaze lifted and scanned the bar, the way I’d noticed him do last night. Surveying, assessing the crowd. Maybe for trouble? Those pale blue eyes passed over me for a split second before jerking back.

He smiled crookedly. “Hey, it’s Nice Girl. How’s it going?”
“Nice girl?” Emerson hissed in my ear. “Okay, clearly you did not tell me everything about last night if he’s already given you a nickname!”

I elbowed her, unsure how to respond to his greeting. I smiled. “Hi.”

He handed off the pitcher, collected the money, and turned to me. “What can I get you?”

I ordered two long-necks. He glanced at Emerson. “ID?”

I watched her as she dug in her purse and pulled out her fake ID. When I looked back up it was to catch him looking at me. He looked away, giving her ID a cursory scan before moving to fetch our drinks.

“So hot,” Emerson muttered near my ear as he bent to grab them from the back chest. “And he was eyeing you. Did you see that?”
I shook my head, unconvinced, but my heart beat a hard rhythm in my chest.

“Slip him your number.”

My gaze swung to her. “What? Just like that?”

“Well, you’ll know if he’s interested by his reaction. Maybe he’ll call. Or he won’t. Either way, you can get this thing off the ground or move on to someone more receptive.”
I bit my lip, contemplating. The only problem was that I had decided it would be him. He would be my test subject. If he wasn't receptive I didn’t feel like moving on—I didn’t want to. And where did that leave me?

Sighing, Emerson dug around in her purse.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, looking in his direction and confirming he was heading back our way.

Shaking her head, she pulled out an eyeliner pencil and snatched a thin square napkin off the stack sitting on the bar. Lightening fast, she scrawled my name and number.

I felt my eyes bulge. “Stop! No!” My hand dove for her arm, but she angled herself away from me, standing on her tiptoes and stretching out her arm.

“Here you go,” she called just as my fingers clamped down on her wrist.

“Em, no!”

Too late. I watched as long, masculine fingers took the napkin from her. My gaze followed that hand up to the bartender as he set our drinks down single-handedly. Bile rose up my throat.
I heard Emerson’s voice beside me as though from far away.

 “This is her number.”

Her. Me. The girl with the face as red as a tomato.
His gaze moved from the napkin to me. Those silvery blue eyes fixed on me. He flicked the napkin in my direction. “You want me to have this?”

He waited, his expression blank. The ball was in my court. Without giving me the slightest indication of whether he even wanted my number, he was asking me what I wanted.
I stammered out the words. "Uh, n-yes. Well, sure. Whatever.”
Lame. I felt like a thirteen-year-old girl. My face burned.
“She wants you to have it,” Emerson insisted from beside me.
If possible my face grew hotter. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on the bar, his gaze fastened on me with searing intensity. “Are you giving me this?”

Apparently whatever wasn't going to work for him.
The air ceased to flow in and out of my lungs. I felt myself nod dumbly. Emerson elbowed me discreetly. “Yes,” finally spilled from my lips.

He straightened. Without another word, he slipped the napkin into his pocket, took the money that Emerson handed him for our drinks, and turned away to another customer.


With one hand on my arm, Emerson dragged me away. I risked another look back at the bar, searching for him among the multitude of heads bobbing up to the front of the counter for their drink order. I spotted him. He was pouring more beer, holding the lever down. But he wasn’t looking at what he was doing. He was looking at me.




Sophie Jordan took her adolescent daydreaming one-step further and penned her first historical romance in the back of her high school Spanish class. This passion led her to pursue a degree in English and History.

A brief stint in law school taught her that case law was not nearly as interesting as literature - teaching English seemed the natural recourse. After several years teaching high school students to love Antigone, Sophie resigned with the birth of her first child and decided it was time to pursue the long-held dream of writing.

In less than three years, her first book, Once Upon A Wedding Night, a 2006 Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Nominee for Best First Historical, hit book shelves. Her second novel, Too Wicked To Tame, released in March 2007 with a bang, landing on the USA Today Bestseller's List


FIND SOPHIE:

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Book Blast: ROWENA'S REVENGE by Theresa M. Hewitt [Excerpt + Giveaway & Tour Schedule]





Title: ROWENA'S REVENGE (The Broadus Supernatural Society Series, #5)
Author: Theresa Marguerite Hewitt
Genre: Fiction | YA | Paranormal
Expected Release Date: 10/31/13

Rowena's life has never been easy. 

Being part Were and part Fae fire-starter she has learned to live a solitary life, depending only on her own instincts until one mistake throws her into danger. Now being chased by a psychopathic Warlock who is bound and determined to "own" her, Rowena must rely on her newly found mates and family. But is she ready to trust? Or will her damaged heart plunge her into darkness?

Blaine is a strong wolf, wanting to protect his new mate with his life. When a new man comes into her life, he can't help but be jealous. Will it drive him into betrayal? Or will he accept their new life too late?

Penton has lived hundreds of years looking for his mate. Now he's found her, but can he keep her safe long enough to get her back to Montana?

Cearbhall is one of the last Dark Warlocks known in the world. He has been searching for centuries for the 'fire-heart' that will complete his prophecy, bringing the world to his feet. In Rowena, his dark, twisted mind finds it with just the hint of her blood left behind as she runs from federal forces.
He will stop at nothing, killing everyone and everything in his path to have her for his own. He thinks nothing of leaving a path of destruction across the country in his wake to claim her.

Will one of these three mates pay the ultimate price for love? Or will evil finally descend upon Broadus, Montana and The Big Sky Pack?









                                                                                                       
  <Insert typical nightly news intro jingle>
“Hello and thank you for joining me for this special news cast on this 24th day of December, my name is John Kinglander. 

Tonight we discuss the ever changing world of supernaturals in today’s society, and mainly the small, quiet town of Broadus, Montana; where lately a lot of activity has been centered.
  
This little town, just off of Route 212, is home of the Big Sky Pack. This Pack is unlike most you and I are used to. They have members of all shifter types; wolves, mountain lions, tigers, bears, and even razorback boars. They’ve come to accept all supernatural types when a special woman stepped into their lives almost five years ago. 

Ask any of the locals, as I spent most of last week doing, and they will tell you that their lives changed the day Siofra O’Hana, now Siofra Johnson, stepped into their towns, and they all told me it was for the better. The consensus was that this fiery mother of six has strengthened their Pack more than any of them could fathom possible.

It started when she was kidnapped from a wedding dress shop by a former lover, thought to be dead by her and all those that knew him. She was held in an abandoned barn, beaten and almost rapped, but as I got from my interview with her, she never once worried about herself. She only wanted her Pack, her fiancée, and her son to be safe; she could’ve cared less what her ex-boyfriend, his brother and their rag-tag bunch of wolves did to her.
Her husband, Conall, and her mates, Abe and Dyson, gladly stepped in, saying that Siofra is much stronger than she gives herself credit for. I can’t disagree.

After surviving the kidnapping, Siofra was confronted with her relation to creatures of the Fae and her father, Ancient Druid and advisor to the Fae royals, Shamus. Siofra embraced her white wolf and learned that she also carried magical powers; all while being hounded by the evil Prince of Elves, Bronton. The malicious Bronton brought war to Broadus’ backyard and the Pack fought as one.

They drove the prince’s army of Trolls off, but not without great sacrifice. Siofra was driven into a coma, leaving her husband and Pack mates to worry about her for weeks on end. As we can all see, she returned and the Pack moved on, stronger than before.

We all know that life is not without its tragedies, and in my opinion Siofra and her family have suffered more than their fair share. A Christmas Eve car accident drove Siofra into a deep depression, and the Pack into a funk.

“We didn’t function like normal wolves. We were more like zombies without her laughing and smiles,” her brother-in-law, Pack Alpha Mike Johnson, said when I interviewed him.

Finally bowing to the need for help, Siofra traveled to a nearby town, seeking group therapy. There she met a friend, Nikki, and ran into her unknown mate Dyson Killian for the first time. All was not well in Broadus as everyone suspected and there were dark things on the horizon.

Siofra couldn’t know that a vengeful soul would bring an ancient demon into her life. Possessed and wanted, Siofra was kidnapped again and held hostage in the dark Pryor Mountains; the home of the Elves. Tortured and rapped, Siofra thought all was lost, but that at least her family would be safe. Learning she would bring the end of the known world, and reuniting with a loved one, though deceased, she vows to get her revenge.

Penton, former Prince of Elves and now reformed advisor to the Fae, travelled to his home land to rescue Siofra, bringing her through the portal that lies at the back of her property. They weren’t alone though, and as Siofra struggled with a heartbreaking decision, her Pack fought off Trolls and other dark magic creatures around her.

In my opinion, Siofra is one of the most self-less people I know. That night as war raged around her, she sacrificed a piece of herself to bring an end to evil. The decision hung heavy on her heart and she decided to run, to transport herself using her magic to a place she thought safe and away from danger.

Turning to a friend of the family, Madame Petit, a former Pack leader and acclaimed Witch living in New Orleans, Siofra was handed another surprise. She once again found that fate handed her another mate in the form of Were-tiger, Abe. With his help, and that of new vampire friends, Siofra began to heal and accept that she needed to go back to her family and Pack.

A powerful, magic wielding, and mind reading Werewolf such as Siofra can’t go unnoticed, and the former Master Vampire from Las Vegas took a special interest in her, chasing her from New Orleans back to Broadus, evading the scope of even the F.S.C.C.A.. He used an army of Ghouls, a force of decoys, and finally kidnapping her oldest son as tactics to draw Siofra out.

“It really wasn’t that big of a decision. He had my son, I needed to get him back, and I knew that my father and my mates were there if I needed them,” Siofra said about her following the Master Vampire to his lair in Las Vegas. The demise of the vampire was caught on amateur video and became the YouTube hit that we all know.

When asked whether or not she thought the camera phone video hurt the image of supernatural creatures, Siofra replied, “No, I don’t think it hurts our image. Human take retribution too, but you send those people to jail. We have our own laws, and humans happily let us abide by them. I only wish that I didn’t look so fat in the video. I know I was pregnant at the time, but dang. I look like a hippo.”

All lightheartedness aside, Siofra and her Pack have encountered many obstacles and overcome them all, coming out stronger and wiser in the end. Now, well now we turn our attention to the wilderness of Maine and the plight of Siofra’s half-sister, Rowena.

She burnt down a nightclub owned by a prominent vampire in New York City, but was broken out of jail by a rogue Berserker wolf. Can she find her way to Broadus to be safe?

We’ll find out next time. Thank you for tuning in, and have a wonderful night.

For Channel 12 News, I’m John Kinglander. Goodnight.” 
<Insert typical outro News jingle> 


Now, please enjoy Chapter One of Book 5 in the Broadus Supernatural Society Series
ROWENA’S REVENGE 
CHAPTER ONE: 
December 24, 2016
Rural Maine

The snow is falling in large clumps around me as I huddle up to a large pine trunk, the burning and stinging in my calf radiating up through my leg. Damn silver, I curse in my head as my breath steams around my face. I never asked for this.

All I ever wanted out of life was to be left alone. To be left alone so that the fire inside would slowly burn out without hurting anyone.

But no, it couldn’t happen that way. That dirty, sadistic, son of a bitch Master Vampire Livius had to ruin everything in the one night I spent in New York City. He was a creature of power, not used to hearing no, and when I had told him that I wasn't interested in him he had tried to rape me. I burned his ass alive, along with most of his hoard, earning me a cell in an F.S.C.C.A. holding center.

My saving grace was a bouncer from the club Livius had owned. I had only shared a fleeting moment with him that night, but catching his scent had been the best thing to happen to me in years. Blaine D’Oro broke me out of that dank cell in NYC, and we've been on the run since.

We were doing fine up until about two hours ago, and the gunshot in my leg is a testament to that. The Berserker wolves chasing me aren't far behind, but they are up wind from me and I can hear their shouts in anger because they've lost my scent.

“Where the fuck is she?” one growls, the sound echoing through the quiet woods.

I don’t want to be standing here when they come around, so taking a deep breath, feeling the cold hit my lungs and the pain in my leg, I slink along the tree trunk and head deeper into the trees. Trying not to brush too many branches and leave a trail, I can feel the blood running down into my boot as I limp along, succumbing to the metallic bite of the silver bullet and falling to my knees beside an old Birch.

If you can hear me, please listen,” the whisper of a voice meets my ears and I search the darkness around me; my eyes shifting into their feline counterpart to reflect the moonlight. Seeing nothing, I just focus in on the sounds of the men coming after me.

Rowena,” the whisper comes again, this time stronger, freezing me in my tracks. My fingers dig into the tree bark at my back and I look up to the moon, searching it for an answer as to this strange voice. I brush back the silver strands of my hair and close my white-blue eyes to focus.

“You’ll be safe here. I’m your sister; your family,” I hear it again, coming to me on the slight breeze, and I have to stifle a laugh. I have no family, at least not since my mother’s death when I was twelve years old. There has been no one for me, except the black and silver haired man in my dreams, claiming to be my father, but that’s all that they have been—just dreams.
The day my mother killed herself I was cast out of the small shifter town we had been living in; twelve years old with only a change of clothes, a bottle of water, and a bag of venison jerky to help me on my journey. They didn’t like the idea of the cursed, silver haired, freak eyed girl hanging around their pure blood children, so I was sent on my way.

So how is this voice on the breeze getting to me? How does it know my name? I think to myself as the footfalls of the two wolves tracking me catch my attention again, this time being dangerously close. I squeeze myself tighter to the trunk, the fear building within me as I frantically look for a better hiding place.

“Where the fuck did she go? We shot the bitch; she couldn’t have gotten too far.” The raspy voice fills the bone chilling air, and I know it’s now or never to hide.

Taking a deep breath, I push off from the tree and start the shift from human to my were-snow leopard form. The crack of my bones and the shifting of skin is a fairly silent process when you have it under control, but being chased by Weres, they’ll sense the magic in the air in an instant, so I find the biggest, lowest lying pine and slink underneath it, tucking my long tail up along my body and positioning myself so that I’ll see their approaching legs and feet.

I can hear them sniffing wildly, and a low growl rips through the one I’ll call ‘Rubber Boots’, due to the thigh high waders he’s wearing right now. Their quick footsteps bring them to the edge of the tree I’m hiding under, and I’m thankful for the still breeze right this instant, because if it kicks up they’ll know where I am right away and I’ll be in for a good fight.

“She’s got too big of a bounty on her head for us to lose her. That honcho down in NYC says she burnt up his kid or somethin’. We’ll be set for a lifetime when we find her, so put your damn nose down and search!” The one in the camo pants growls at Rubber Boots and they circle a tree nearby.

I can see Camo Pants’ hand on the trunk of the tree, and it quickly shifts into the Berserker state as he catches a scent; the fingers elongating and sprouting hair, the nails razor sharp and digging into the bark. I can hear both of their breaths coming heavy and quick, and then they stop, the stillness of the night taking over, and a dark feeling settles in my bones.

The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I slouch closer to the truck, my claws instinctively flexing from my paws as their legs turn in my direction. They quickly move to the branches at the edge of my hiding spot just as a breeze kicks up, bringing the stale scent of beer and a hint of something else my way, perking my senses.

Camo Pants’ hand comes down onto the bottom branch and my muscles tense, my ears pressing into my head as I’m ready to issue a warning hiss. No doubt they’ll only laugh at me—damn cocky wolves—but my bite is a hell of a lot worse than my hiss, so they should be ready.

Just as the branch starts to lift, the breeze kicks up again with a ferocious hiss, whipping the snow into my face and causing the two wolves to stumble back, swearing. Shaking the snow from my face, I hear a thud and the wolves growling. Turning my attention back to their feet, I see a third pair of legs joining them now as their voices rise, snarls and growls filling the air for only a second before the distinct sound of steel leaving leather, and a bright streak of silver flashes before my eyes.

I hiss in a breath as Camo Pants and Rubber Boots’ heads hit the snow and roll away. Their bodies fall like chopped trees, the blood spurting from their necks, and I’m slightly frozen in fear. It happened so fast. The glinting silver of a sword catches my attention, and I gulp at the blood dripping from the very sharp looking blade; the crimson tainting the pure white snow around the legs of the wielder.

There is nowhere for me to go, and as I see the long fingers wrap around the branch, I let out a hiss that vibrates through my entire body. I can feel it all the way down into my feet. His crouching slows as my warning turns into a low rumble, my throat raw and heated from the exertion.

“Now, now,” a smooth, deep voice washes over me, followed by a low chuckle, and I feel calm immediately, confusing the hell out of me.

The branch lifts up, showering me with needles, and through the dark I can see his eyes. Eyes just like mine; the white-blue color seeming to glow in the moonlight, and they lock onto mine. A slow wind brings a whiff of sun ripened apricots to my nose, and I can’t keep my eyes from closing, a low moan rumbling through me.

What the hell? I shake myself, causing more needles to rain down on my coat, and I turn my attention back to this man crouched before me.

He is lean and muscular, his Peacoat hanging open to reveal a form fitting shirt giving away his muscle tone. I’m guessing he notices me checking him out, because a smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth, the simple action setting a fire deep within me, and I shift back into human form to keep it at bay.

On my hands and knees before him, I see his eyes roam my body and his nostrils flare, taking in my scent. I’m breathing hard, the steam forming around me in rapid clouds as I try to slow the fire of desire building within me. His scent is doing something to me and my leopard is pacing within me, stoking the flames even more.
“Come on, Rowena, there is no need to fear me.” His voice is soft this time, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes. Those damn eyes, so much like mine. My stare moves to the sword in his other hand, the blood still dripping, and he drops it in the snow, reaching the hand out to me.

“How do you know my name?” I breathe out, brushing the hair from my eyes as I try to shuffle out without taking his hand. I mean, really? I just witnessed him behead two men in the blink of an eye, and he wants me to trust him? I don’t think so; not even with this inferno of lust burning within me for him.

The pain from my gunshot wound returns and I fall to my elbows, wincing and hissing through my teeth as I feel the silver bite further into my flesh. Pushing back the waves of nausea, I look back up and see that his hand is still outstretched; a concerned look on this stranger’s face.

Oh, what the hell? I think to myself as I reach out and grasp it. My breath catches in my throat as his fingers link around mine, lightning bolts flowing out and over my skin, gathering in my core, and I can feel the familiar tingle of my fire roll over my body. If I’m not careful, I’ll burn down this entire forest in a second, so I let him pull me from my hiding spot.

Trying to keep my weight on my uninjured leg, I stumble and fall into his chest. Oh God, it’s rock hard. I try not to let his body heat get to me as his arms go around me to keep me on my feet, but damn does he feel good. He even smells good.

As he holds me to him, I spare a look up into his eyes and see that he has a small smile on his lips. Perfect lips; luscious even, begging me to bite them, and I have to look to the snow and suck in a breath to reign in my raging desire.
“I know an awful lot about you,” he whispers, his eyes roaming my face as I look back up at him. I need to step back before my flames burst out and hurt him, so I jerk from his hold, wincing as my injury burns through my calf muscle. He keeps his hand wrapped around mine, and I see his attention float to my leg.

“What?” I have to pause and take a second as my head spins, and I’m cursing those wolves for shooting me again. The man’s arm wraps around my waist, tugging me into his side. “What’s your name?”

He smiles sweetly, and my heart feels like it might burst at the sight. His face is so handsome; strong jaw and nose, no facial hair, and close cut midnight black hair wet with the falling snow. He almost seems too perfect to be real. I cock my head in an almost awe like state and notice that his ears have a slight point to them, spiking my curiosity.

“My name is Penton,” he says as I reach my right hand up slowly and hesitantly brush my fingertips along his ear. His eyes flutter shut as I run my fingers over his skin and through his hair, the smell of apricots filling the air around him as his eyes fall on me again, bathing me in un-restrained lust and desire. The degree of it almost frightens me as I move my hand to his cheek and feel him lean into my touch.

As I see a naughty little grin play across his face, I feel the dizziness and weight of my blood loss and I teeter in his arms, almost falling, but he catches me by shooting his hands into my armpits. I can hear myself let out a strangled laugh, but my mind is floating, the darkness filling my vision.

“Were you the voice? The voice I heard?”

“No,” he chuckles, his smile seeming brighter than the mid-day sun, and I can’t take my eyes from it, the sway deepening in my stance and the blurriness in my vision fading in and out. So he wasn’t the voice I heard on the wind, but who was?

“Take me back to Blaine,” I manage to get out as I feel him lift me into his arms, holding me tight to his chest. “Take me to Blaine. He’ll help us.”

Then I’m out, the only feelings rolling through my body is the heat from his closeness and the inferno threatening to burst from my core. My libido wars with my mind for the split second before I’m out, this stranger pulling at every fiber of carnal need within me.

What have I gotten myself into?






Theresa Marguerite Hewitt is a very laid back person; enjoying the simpler things in life more than most sometimes. She grew up in a very, VERY small town in Central New York and she will always be a Redneck Woman.

She loves reading, writing, taking long pointless drives and long dusk time walks. Fall and winter are her favorite times of year and she spends more time outside then than in the summer. She loves hearing from fans and is not above fan-girling on those that show her tons of support.

She donates the profits from the Amazon sales of her military series, The Wakefield Romance Series, to various military charities including; Wounded Warrior Project, Red Circle Foundation, Boot Campaign and others.

She is addicted to the cheap-Harlequin romances you can pick up in most drug stores and cannot go in and out of a store without picking up at least one. She resides in Buffalo, NY with her boyfriend, two dogs and two cats.











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