What we have been reading!!

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Today we have the chapter reveal for DIRT by Cassia Leo! Check them out and pre-order your copy today!

 

Title: DIRT Author: Cassia Leo Series: Evergreen Series Release: January 12, 2018

 

About Dirt

A hard-hitting, emotional new series from New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo. Jack and I had everything. Then, in one brutal instant, the universe tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness. Now, I have a cocky a**hole for a husband. The only way we communicate anymore is when we’re fighting or f**king. With nothing left to lose, I write Jack a goodbye letter and head for Portland, where I quickly meet a neighbor who helps me find a job. My new neighbor—broody, tattooed ex-soldier Isaac Evans—is complicated. Nevertheless, we form a fast friendship, bonding over our mutual desire to create something beautiful from the wreckage of our lives. But despite the distance between us, Jack and I are still trying to make things work—fighting and f**king dirtier than ever. And he doesn’t appreciate my new friendship with Isaac. Not one f**king bit.

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Chapter Reveal

Chapter 1 Laurel I hugged Jack Jr. tightly against my breast, and he molded his soft, warm body to mine. His eyes remained closed as his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of my blouse, his rosy lips puckering as he geared up for more food. “You sucked me dry, little fella,” I whispered, leaning in to press my nose against the downy-soft, golden hair on the top of his head. I inhaled his scent and my muscles unspooled. “But I’ll be back to feed you soon. I promise.” Why do babies smell so damn good? Before I got pregnant with Junior, my favorite smell was orange blossoms. As a teenager, I often got scolded by my mom for picking the flowers off the orange tree in our backyard in Portland. I’d rub the creamy petals between my fingers, bruise them with my fingernails, then sniff my hand for hours until the scent wore off. When I was pregnant with Junior, my favorite scent became the rich aroma of the forbidden coffee I could no longer drink. After Junior was born, and my decaf days came to a glorious end, I realized how wrong I’d been. There was absolutely no scent as sweet and soul-quieting as the smell of the top of a baby’s head. Bonus points if the baby was lying peacefully on your chest sound asleep. “Are you ever going to put him down?” I flicked my head sideways, startled by Jack’s clear, baritone voice. He stood in the doorway of Junior’s nursery, the silhouette of his six-foot-three athletic body framed by the warm light in the hallway. His head was tilted to the side. He’d probably been standing there admiring us for a while. After six years together, I knew Jack’s body language and facial expressions better than I knew my own face. I stood from the rocking chair and stole one more sniff of Junior’s head before I placed him gently on his back in the center of the crib. I adjusted the left sleeve of his pajamas, pulling it down to make sure it covered his entire chubby arm. I didn’t want to imagine him waking up cold and alone in here. Jack appeared at my side as I switched on the video baby monitor. “He’s going to be fine,” he murmured, reaching down to stroke the soft patch of hair on Junior’s head. “In fact, he’ll probably enjoy some time alone. After all, he is just like his daddy; sometimes, we need a break from the constant attention from the ladies.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Making jokes only makes leaving him slightly less scary, you know,” I said as we stepped into the hallway of our five-bedroom dream home in Hood River, Oregon. I couldn’t wait to fill up every one of these bedrooms with brothers and sisters for Jack Jr. Jack chuckled as he followed closely behind me. “Less scary is an improvement,” he replied, grabbing my hand to stop me in the middle of the corridor. “You promised Junior you’d be back soon. Can you also make me a promise?” The hallway lights made his dark hair look glaringly shiny, but I couldn’t help but notice how weary his blue eyes looked tonight. Since Junior arrived three months ago, I’d been so focused on my baby boy’s vulnerability, his scent, his beauty, I hadn’t slowed down enough to appreciate how those were the same qualities that made me fall in love with Jack. Suddenly, my worries about leaving Junior with my mother for the evening evaporated. All I wanted to do was kiss Jack, grab hold of that dark hair and make love to him for hours. I wanted to replace the weariness in his eyes with dark hunger, or maybe a glint of mischief. I squeezed his hand and smiled at the thought of possibly having sex with him in public tonight. We hadn’t done that in a while. “What kind of promise?” I asked. He shook his head. “Nope, you’re not allowed to ask. Just promise me you’ll say yes.” My stomach vaulted at the sound of those words. They were the same words Jack spoke when he asked me to marry him. I wondered what he would ask this time. The phrase “just promise me you’ll say yes” had become like an inside joke, our own private, unspoken promise to each other that we would always do whatever it took to stay together. The last time he had uttered this phrase, he asked me to stop taking my birth control pills. With Junior here, it was easy to trust that whatever Jack asked me for this time would turn out to be exactly what I needed. I tilted my head back so I could look up and into his crystal-blue eyes. “Yes, I can make you a promise.” His expression became sober. “Promise me you’ll be present tonight.” He fixed me with a piercing gaze as his large hand cupped my face. “It’s just you and me for the next three hours. Promise me.” I smiled. “I promise. Just you and me. And I’ll even put my cell phone on vibrate.” As I said the words, a sharp finger of fear prodded my subconscious, telling me it was a bad idea to risk missing a phone call tonight. The exhaustion in Jack’s eyes melted away as he smiled. “I can deal with that, but you have to promise me one more thing.” “What’s that?” His smile turned almost menacing as he looped his arm around my waist and drew me close. “Promise me you’ll lemme smash that blonde bombshell booty,” he said, landing a light swat on my ass. I shook my head as I recalled how we often had sex in public during our first year together, in our senior year at Oregon State University, Cascades. For some reason, once we graduated and moved in together, having sex in public seemed like something we couldn’t get away with so easily. We decided public sex-hibitions — or throw downs, as we more commonly referred to them — would be reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or vacations. Truthfully, Jack and I kicked off our relationship by having sex on the first date. He was always a very difficult man to resist. When he showed up at my apartment to pick me up that night, I couldn’t resist his suggestion that we should stay in and make paper masks of ourselves, then put them on and ask each other first date questions as if we were the other person. I had never laughed so much on any date. Ever. But when he asked — while pretending to be me — if I’d ever had sex with someone on the first date, I couldn’t help but respond with, “I’m Jack-fucking-Stratton. I’ve fucked a lot of girls on the first date. But none as gorgeous as you.” Jack always knew how to keep things fresh and alarmingly sexy. Six years in and my body still craved him almost every second of every day. Today was our three-year wedding anniversary. We’d only had sex twice since I gave birth to Junior three months ago, and both of those times were truly awkward. The first time was painful. My C-section incision hadn’t fully healed yet, and even trying to have sex with him behind me was uncomfortable. The second time we tried, Jack was so afraid of hurting me, he stopped midway through. There’d been a lot of oral sex happening in this house since then. Luckily, a few weeks had passed since our last attempt, and I had repeatedly assured him I was fully healed up now. I was certain that even if the sex did hurt a little, it would still be worth it. I couldn’t understand couples that didn’t consider sex an important part of a relationship. I never felt more complete, more present, more alive than when my body and mind were entwined with Jack’s. I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I think I know just the place for a proper throw down.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh. Tell me more.” As he leaned in to kiss me, my mother’s voice interrupted us. “Are you two making out again?” she said, standing at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips as she gawped at us. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” Jack laughed and I shook my head as we moved toward her. “We’re just trying to keep you entertained while you’re on vacation, Beth,” Jack said. My mother cocked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to watch porn, I’d open up your laptop and have a look at your internet history.” “Mom, don’t be gross,” I protested, trying not to laugh. Jack smiled as he held out his elbow for my mom to grab hold as they descended the stairs in front of me. “I made a special collection of links for you. They’re in a folder labeled Tantric Geriatric. You’ll love it.” I rolled my eyes. Jack and my mother exchanged jabs like this all day. My mother was staying with us for a few days, so Jack and I could have some time to ourselves and get some much-needed uninterrupted sleep. She was leaving tomorrow to go back to the house where I grew up in Portland. Though she pretended as if she was desperate to get home to her Craftsman cottage in the city, and I even teased her about how she was dying to get back so she could see the handsome new neighbor she’d been going on about, I knew she was going to miss Jack’s pretend insults as much as she would miss Junior and me. My mother practically shoved me toward the front door. “I order you to go have fun,” she said, smiling as Jack opened the door and stepped outside. “And don’t come home until you’re too drunk to walk.” I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. Please call if you need anything. And don’t answer the door for anyone. There’s a house that got broken into a few streets away.” She waved off my paranoia. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll be fine. See you later, babe.” I blew her a kiss, then I closed the door behind me.

* * *

“I have to admit, having sex on the waterfront was one of my favorite public throw downs ever,” Jack said, pulling his Tesla into the long driveway of our four-acre estate. “But do we really have to wait until our fourth anniversary to do it again?” I tugged the silky fabric of my skirt straight as I pressed my thighs together. Though my body was still raw with the evidence of the dirty deed we’d just committed, I couldn’t wait to get Jack inside and pounce on him again. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sensation of him moving inside me, and how good he was at making me feel beautiful. “We can do that anytime we can snag a babysitter,” I replied as he turned the car off. He made no move to exit the Tesla. “Well, babycakes, you’d better get ready to interview a fuck-ton of babysitters.” I laughed. “Babycakes? That’s a new one.” Jack rarely used the same term of endearment twice in a row. He liked to keep me guessing. He scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, that one was kind of creepy. Now that I’ve tried it out, I think I can bury that one in the nickname graveyard.” “Try the incinerator,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “Duly noted,” he replied, exiting the vehicle. Jack and I glided unhurriedly along the flagstone walkway, which was lined with sparkling pathway lights. As we made our way toward the steps leading up to the covered porch, I stopped in the middle of the path and closed my eyes as I inhaled the sweet scent of the lavender and honeysuckle I’d planted with my mom’s help. That was when I made a wish, a corny wish, but I didn’t care. I wished that every person could find someone they loved as much as I loved Jack. I wished every child could feel as loved as Junior was. And I wished every anniversary could be as perfect as this one. “No… No, no, no!” Jack’s voice grew louder with each no. They say mother’s intuition is scientifically proven to exist. I knew by the tone of Jack’s voice, without even opening my eyes, that my world would never be the same. I knew in that instant, I would regret leaving Jack Jr. tonight for the rest of my life. Though I knew something was wrong, I wasn’t prepared for what we found. At some point, while we were lost in our blissful celebration, the front door of our home had been forced open. This discovery was what had made Jack cry out in disbelief. Father’s intuition must also be a thing, because he told me later that, even though the door was still closed, the moment he saw the gouges in the wood near the handle, he had felt that same sense of dread. That feeling that the universe had suddenly tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness. The house was ransacked. Furniture upended, paintings and flatscreen televisions torn off the walls, shards of shattered vases littered the floors. Complete and utter chaos. The master bathroom doorknob looked as if it had been shot off. We found my mother’s lifeless form huddled against the bathtub, my baby boy’s dead body clutched tightly in her arms.

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About Cassia Leo

New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book. Find her on...

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Saturday, December 30, 2017



#AlaceIsMyFavoritePsycho


 
 
From the author of the Rebel Wayfarers MC series, MariaLisa deMora,
 comes the dark thriller “Alace Sweets”
Release date – January 9th
Pre Order your copy NOW!
...
 
 
Revenge really IS sweet. ~Alace Sweets.
 
A dark thriller, this book is not a light read. Filled with edge-of-your-seat suspense, this intense story commands the reader's attention as it drives towards the explosive ending. Alace Sweets is a vigilante serial killer, with everything that implies and is sure to trip all your triggers. Be ready.
 
At seventeen, Alace Sweets turned a corner in her life, taking the wrong shortcut home from school.
 
Resisting the harsh knowledge her attackers will never be made to pay for their actions, Alace takes a stand. Justice must be served, and if fate’s scales are out of balance, she’s determined to set things right as best she can.
 
When the laws of men fail, the rules of Alace prevail.
 


 


 



 
 
 
 
 

Friday, December 29, 2017

Title: Wild Hearts
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 10, 2018
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
 Add to TBR
 On sale for half price! 
Other links coming soon!
 
This sexy cowboy is out of his element. He doesn’t want commitment, but Jodie Ellison is a force of nature who can’t be ignored.

Jodie Ellison loves wild parties, chaotic fun, and spontaneity in her hometown of Ocean City, Maryland. With her writing career and waitressing job not quite paying the bills, Jodie desperately needs a new roommate and finds herself in a nightmarish situation when her roomie turns out to be a disastrous choice.

The wild and unruly Levi Creed is a little bit rebel and a whole lot of sexy. When he moves in next door to Jodie, things get a bit tumultuous thanks to a squawking parrot and a dangerous fire pit. It seems like Levi’s adorable Texan drawl and perfect body can’t possibly win over Jodie… or can they?

An undeniable chemistry simmers between the unlikely pair. The beach babe and the sexy cowboy soon find themselves asking: Can they tame their wild hearts and commit to the blossoming romance between them?
Other links coming soon!
 Book 1 is on sale for 99c! 
All other links: books2read.com/inkedhearts

A high school English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay's the English teacher cliché; she love cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.

She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, and Bob; and their Mastiff, Henry.

Lindsay's goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the “typical romance.” With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, “I see myself in that novel.” She wants to speak to the modern woman’s experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, “That could happen,” or “I feel like the characters are real.” That’s how she knows she's done her job.

Lindsay's hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Bad DadBad Dad by Sloane Howell
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

5 Failure Is NOT an Option Stars!!!
Reviewed by Franci Neill


Well, this is my last review for 2017 and what a way to end an incredible year of reading. My first and most definitely not my last Sloane Howell book. This book grabbed me from the moment I started it.

Landon is a man that exudes power even when he's just standing there. There's an aura about him that definitely says "don't mess with me!" He's also somewhat furtive and the way Mr. Howell brings the reader into the story, I HAD to know what was behind his actions and words. It's very clear to me though that his little boy Logan, is the driving force in his life!

Enter Cora Chapman and their lives are turned inside out....but I think in all the best ways. There's a draw between Landon and Cora that as much as they try to deny it, it soon becomes impossible to ignore. And they are on FIRE!!! There's so much depth to their relationship too along with all the secrets!!

That's one of the things I loved so much about this book; I NEVER saw things coming! I mean there is so much going on with Landon's past and all the people involved. There's action, passion, fear and through it all an unending love.

I'm going to end this review here because there's so many things that could be given away and this is a book that you have to experience for yourself because once you go in, you'll be taken into a story unlike any you've read before and you'll experience ALL the emotions possible while reading a GREAT book!!!

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My son is my life. Nothing on earth matters but him.

Soon, I’ll have to send him out into society. The cruel machine that gnashes innocence and spits out the hollowed remains of a child’s imagination. It’s a place I know all too well, considering my past. I’ve worked hard to separate myself from it, but it looms in the back of my mind—waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

My son, Logan, wants to have birthday parties, make friends, play at the park—all the normal things that seven-year olds want to do. All the things I want to do with him.

I’ve put up walls around our life to shield us from danger. Giant barriers to ward off possible threats.

Cora Chapman crashes through them like a wrecking ball. She’s intelligent and hilarious with soft curves and a spark that ignites a flame deep inside of me.

There’s only one problem—she’s Logan’s teacher.

When my past wraps its tentacles around my throat and threatens to strangle the breath from my lungs, I’m given an option—fight for my family’s freedom, or die as they’re stripped away from me.

I can’t lose. I won’t lose.

My name is Landon Lane and I am a warrior. 





























The door at the entrance to the school, down at the end of the hallway, slammed shut like a shotgun had fired. I jolted and tried to catch my breath. Logan grinned a little wider, which still wasn’t much.
“This place is so loud.” I inhaled a deep breath and brushed off my own embarrassment. Anything was worth it to set him at ease a little.
Footsteps pounded in my ears as whoever came through the door approached in a hurry.
Logan’s head tilted up and he leaped from his seat. I barely leaned out of his way in time. He took off in a dead sprint. My head craned around to the man’s shoes first—ordinary Nike cross trainers. Nothing special.
But the way they traversed the ground—Montague soles pounded the Capulet tiles.
My gaze roamed to the jeans—Levi’s, boot-cut, regular denim, frayed at the seams—worked in and worn.
Damn.
My stare tilted up and drank the scenery. A charcoal-gray hood dipped down and cast a shadow over his eyes.
A breath cut too short and some sound I’d never made in my life escaped my lungs and dissolved into the tension saturating the room.
Logan’s father (I assumed) dropped to a knee, and Logan sprinted straight into his massive arms. His hoodie remained pulled up over his head. It’d probably been to shield him from the rain outside. I’d never seen Logan move so fast. He disappeared into the giant thunderhead biceps that engulfed him in a hug.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Logan sobbed into the man’s shoulder.
A giant hand wrapped around the back of his head and pulled him in tight. The hood dipped down and nuzzled up next to his cheek then turned and whispered in his ear.
I stood up about twenty feet away and noticed myself leaning toward them, trying to get a better view or hear what was said. I’d only met an older woman named Janet who usually brought Logan to and from school. She rarely spoke to anyone, but she was always polite.
“How long are they going to make us wait in here? Jesus Christ!” Charles Hastings’ voice roared once again from the office. Principal Williams was still nowhere to be found.
The hood-covered head popped up and turned in the direction of the words, but I still couldn’t make out his eyes.
God, what I would have given for a peek at his face.
The dark shadow under the hood turned to me. My heart threatened to explode out of my chest and my lungs stopped functioning. I still couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t see his stare. Somehow, he managed to make my palms sweat. My palms never sweat.
Why’s he staring at me?
“Fucking ridiculous!”
My head whipped to the door.
Hastings.
I inhaled a deep breath and stomped toward the office. I’d learned long ago that if I didn’t set a certain tone with unruly parents they’d walk all over me.
Throwing the door open, I glared at the short balding man of maybe fifty. “It will be a few more minutes. Watch your language, please. This is a school. Not your living room.”
I slammed the door shut before he could get out another word.
Where the hell is Principal Williams?
I wasn’t one to shirk duties or get out of responsibility, but I really could use some back up. Parents had fought over pettier things than the words Hastings was slinging left and right, in front of his son no less. Maybe if I’d been at this school longer I’d have a better idea of how they handled these situations.
I froze in front of the door for a quick second and schooled my features. Could I go back out and face the enigma comforting his son in the hall? I had to. It was my job.
I walked back out to make sure Logan was okay, each step with a pair of concrete bricks attached to my feet.
“My son didn’t hit that little shit out there! We shouldn’t even be here!”
I paused and gritted my teeth. The moment now took a firm seat at the top of the podium as the number one awkward situation of my career, and I’d taught at a low-income New York City elementary school.
Jesus.
Other teachers had warned me about Hastings. The general consensus was that the guy was a raging jerk with little-man syndrome. I had no choice but to concur.
The man in the hood squeezed Logan once more into a bear hug, seemed to whisper something else, and then released him.
Hastings railed off even more expletives and threats from the office.
Logan’s father didn’t take off his hood, just advanced straight toward me. Logan stood in the hallway behind him.
He was not a small man by any means. The closer he came, the tighter my stomach twisted into a knot. The walls closed in on me and the thunder seemed to rumble with each of his footsteps. I gulped when he was about five feet away.
His shoes squeaked against the tile when he stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. It stretched the fabric across his shoulders and I realized just how large he was. It was one hundred percent muscle. I tried to keep my thighs from squeezing together and nearly failed.
Compose yourself.
My father named me Courage—even though I went by Cora—when I was born, but I was not living up to it at that moment.
I stretched out a hand toward him. “Hi, I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances. I’m Cora—”
I barely made out two eyes in the shadow of his hood. He sized me up and down, and gestured like he might actually reach out for my hand. Hastings belted out more empty threats from inside the office. The hood turned in that direction and left my hand abandoned mid-air.
I’d never had trouble speaking in front of a parent before, but something about Logan’s dad was just—I didn’t know what it was, to be honest—scary, exciting, mysterious.
I lowered my hand to my side. My mouth was drier than the Sahara. “I, umm, there was an incident, on the playground.”
I tried to keep my voice down. If Hastings knew Logan’s father had shown up there was no telling what might happen. Looking at the man in front of me, it wouldn’t be much of a fight, and I was definitely in no position to stop him if things escalated beyond a discussion.
My eyes strayed to the Levi’s again for a split-second before I caught myself. I had certainly missed Montana men and their jeans. Some might’ve called it a weakness of mine.
He turned back to me, slowly. I watched every move. He took in every piece of information the scene had to offer and actually listened before speaking. People didn’t do that anymore, and I silently appreciated it.
“What happened?” His baritone voice vibrated through me like the encroaching thunder outside.
I stood there, blood pounding through my veins, heart racing down a quarter mile track with no parachute or brakes. His voice demanded an answer, but it didn’t seem coercive. There was a hint of concern laced in it.
“Logan didn’t do anything wrong. Like I said before, there was an incident. We just called both—”
The sound of a chair shuffling and footsteps from the office cut me off. I froze. Hastings must’ve heard me talking.
A tingling sensation radiated through my limbs and goosebumps pebbled down my arms. I had to force a slight smile from my face and mashed my lips into a thin line.
Logan’s father took a few commanding steps toward the door and made sure he’d be the first thing Hastings would see. He put himself right between us and his shoulders were so broad I couldn’t see around him. My thighs tried to squeeze together again. I cursed them silently and stepped out to the side so I could at least see Hastings’ face.
“I’m not waiting for this bullshit any—” The door to Williams’ office burst open. Hastings froze right along with his sentence when he saw Logan’s dad.
His voice went down an octave, barely noticeable. His chest deflated a little too and he tried to recover. “You the dad of the little shit making up stories about my kid?” His words were shaky, and he nodded up the hall toward Logan.
Uh oh.
The hood turned to Logan and looked right through me. “Wait in the car.”
I glanced back. Logan didn’t dare question him. Hell, I don’t think anyone would’ve. I nearly took a step toward the parking lot and caught myself. Logan turned on a dime and took off.
I wasn’t about to stand by and let a dick measuring contest happen on my watch. Both of my hands found my hips and I side-stepped farther so that Hastings could see more than just my face. “Mr. Hastings, get back in the office. Now!”
He ignored me, as expected. I wasn’t a threat to him. The ballsy bastard took a couple of steps toward Logan’s dad until he was a few feet away from him.
Where is Williams? Probably peeking around a corner somewhere, watching.
“Mister Hastings, that is enough.” I started toward him.
Hastings sneered at Logan as he walked toward the door, then he turned to me and his chest puffed out a little more. “You fucking people have—”
Where the hell are you, Williams? Help!
A single finger.
I stopped in my tracks.
He held it up. The man in the hood.
One powerful index finger in the air.
It was just a finger.
That index finger stole the words from Hastings’ mouth and the breath from my lungs.
One gorgeous, forceful finger commanded everything in the room and even the storm outside seemed to shut the hell up.
His left hand balled into a fist at his side.
And we’ve now reached the ‘Oh shit’ portion of the night’s show.
Complete silence fell on the school.
I swear I couldn’t have made it up if I tried. The door closed behind Logan and he walked to the car. Lightning cracked overhead, and the immediate thunder seemed to pick up the building and shake it at the same time the man in the hood dropped his finger.
I shuddered. Freaking thunderstorms.
Logan’s father closed the small gap between him and Hastings. Hastings’ eyes widened like saucers, then his brows narrowed into a V.
Then he did possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever seen a man do. He poked Goliath in the chest. “Listen here—”
The hood tilted down to the finger, and then back up to Hastings’ face. Hastings tried to look tough, but his face was pale as a ghost, and sweat beads formed along his hairline.
The hood glared lasers at Hastings. “Don’t touch me.”
Hastings’ hand dropped like it might fall through the floor.
“D-dad?” Cory Hastings eased open the office door.
The hood shot to Cory for a quick second. He glanced at Hastings and then back to me and then back to Cory. His voice softened a hint while he looked at the boy. “Sorry.”
He turned and headed toward the exit, but stopped at my side. He looked straight ahead. Straight where his son sat in the car, waiting. “Logan won’t be back.” He paced down the hallway.
I turned and watched him leave. I stood there, mouth wide open, catatonic, brain short circuiting all over the place. Logan’s father disappeared through the double doors, and I blew out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Oh my God.
Maybe Desire, Montana wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Okay, we ready?” Principal Williams strolled up from the other end of the hallway.
You’ve got to be shitting me.

































































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Sloane Howell lives in the Midwest United States and writes dirty stories. When not reading or writing he enjoys hanging out with his family, watching sports, playing with the dogs, traveling, and engaging his readers on social media. You can almost always catch him on Twitter posting something goofy.

Visit his web page www.sloanehowell.com to sign up for his mailing list to get updates on new releases, promos, and giveaways. Thanks for reading.
































Title: Addicted to You Box Set
Author: K.M. Scott
Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance
Release Date: November 24, 2017 
Addicted To You, where addiction and obsession meet love
Crave (Addicted To You #1)
I want her. I crave her. She’s my addiction. 
The world knows me as Ian Anwell, New York Times bestselling author, but Kristina makes me want more. 
Much more.
I need him. I love him. He’s my obsession. 
Everyone thinks they know Kristina Richards, but I’m more than what they see on the screen. 
So much more.
I’m his muse, and this is our story.
Adore (Addicted To You #2)
Addiction and obsession brought Ian and Kristina together, and real life tore them apart.
For Ian, Kristina is everything. What began as an obsession has morphed into that something more he so wanted. Kristina is his muse and so much more, 
but now both of them must make choices that may change everything.
For Kristina, Ian offers all that she’s ever wanted. Love. Passion. Adoration. But these come with a price, and the cost of loving him may be more than she’s willing to pay. 
Shatter (Addicted To You #3)
For Ian Anwell, addiction is a way of life. He can’t remember a time when he wasn’t addicted to something—heroin, alcohol, whatever made him feel good. 
But his newest addiction is better than all the others combined. Kristina makes him feel like the man he’s always wanted to be.
But addicts have a habit of wrecking things, even those they hold dear.
For Kristina Richards, Ian is everything. Love. Lust. Obsession. But even as she falls deeper in love with him and the madness they create together, 
she finds something she never expected to find in her time with him.
She finds strength she never knew she had.
Claim (Addicted To You #4)
Ian and Kristina’s love has been tested over and over, but now one final test may be too much for them to overcome.
The only part of his life other than Kristina that meant anything to Ian—his career—lays in shambles. 
Now he’ll have to decide if he can forgive the woman he loves for betraying his most important secret.
Kristina will do whatever it takes to get Ian back, and this time it won’t be easy. But their love means too much for her to give up now.
And just when they think they’ve finally found happiness, their love will be challenged one last time.
K.M. Scott writes contemporary romance stories of sexy, intense, and unforgettable love. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, she's been in love with romance since reading her first romance novel in junior high (she was a very curious girl!). Under her Gabrielle Bisset name, she write erotic paranormal and historical romance. She lives in Pennsylvania with a herd of animals and when she's not writing can be found reading or feeding her TV addiction. 
Be sure to visit K.M.'s Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/kmscottauthor for all the latest on her books, along with giveaways and other goodies! And to hear all the news on K.M. Scott books first, sign up for her newsletter today and be sure to visit her website at http://www.kmscottbooks.com
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