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Hard Truth
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: I came to with a start. Disoriented, nauseous, fight or flight kicked in, and I rolled. “Why the hell did you knock him out?” Kendall bitched. Shade smirked. “Would you rather I shot him?” Luna rattled something off in Spanish. On my hands and knees, my equilibrium shot, I took two more breaths and pushed to my feet, then stumbled into the wall. Fucking vagus strike. Crossing his arms, Shade gloated. “Never been knocked out before?” “Shut up,” Kendall snapped at him as she reached for me. “You need to sit your ass down.” Dizzy as fuck, I pushed her away. His hand on his piece, Luna got in my face. “Touch her again and I won’t be as nice as Shade.” Ignoring all of them, I aimed for my bedroom. Kendall followed. “If you’d listened to me and—” I slammed the door in her face and stumbled to the bathroom. Breathing deep, I held on to the counter a few seconds, then stuck my head under the faucet. Running a towel over my hair, I grabbed my 9mm and walked back out. Shade blocked the front door, and Luna stood in front of him. Kendall put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you’re going after her.” “What the fuck do you think?”
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TNT
-- EXCERPT: “Uh…you know, this isn’t working,” I said briskly. She tilted her head, all cute like and looked at me in confusion. “What do you mean?” “Us…whatever this is. It’s not going to work. You’re nice and all, but it’s just not working.” I waited for the tears and the drop of her face. I braced myself for the yelling and name-calling. But no matter how much I steeled myself for her reaction, I just wasn’t ready for what she actually said. “Hmmm. Well, I appreciate your input, but I think it’s going good. Pop tarts?” “What?” “I’m sticking some in the toaster. Want some?” I blinked several times, shook my head, and even slapped my own face, but nothing changed. She was still standing in front of me, asking me if I wanted fucking pop tarts after I just broke up with her. She actually refused to break up with me. Could that really happen? Did I not get a say in this? And if so, was I destined to just be with her the rest of my life? I’d never been in this position before. I’d never had a woman refuse to let me break up with her. What was the protocol for this? Did I just go along with it? Maybe I should just not return her calls. Of course, that hadn’t really worked so far. She always showed up, with food. “Honey?” She quirked her head to the side and smiled sweetly at me. “Pop tarts?” Shaking my head, I tried again. “I’m serious, Molly. I’m breaking up with you. I don’t want to be with you anymore. It’s been fun, but let’s just end this now.” “I hear you. I really do, and while I think you make some not very valid points, I’m going to pretend like what you said makes total sense. But we’re not breaking up. You’re just freaking out and you want to end this before it gets too real. I get it, but we’re still not breaking up.” And with that, she turned around and left the room. I stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to do next. How the fuck had this happened? Was I being too sweet? I mean, I was never too sweet. I was never that guy that women felt they could walk all over. Yet, here I was, standing alone in my pretend girlfriend’s bedroom as she walked out after telling me we were not breaking up. This was not happening. She couldn’t make me stay with her. She couldn’t force me to date her. I wasn’t some chump. I was Tony-fucking-Tacos. I groaned and rolled my eyes at myself. I was not Tony Tacos. I was something much cooler. I wasn’t even Mexican, and if I was honest with myself, I didn’t even like tacos all that much. Not that I would tell Molly that. She had been really sweet yesterday, bringing me food at work because she thought tacos were my favorite. I cursed myself for thinking of her as sweet when I was trying to break up with her. Damnit, I would not be forced to date a woman that I really liked. Fuck, I was screwed. I marched into the kitchen and slapped my hand down on the countertop. “Listen, Molly, this is over between us. I’m not going to let you tell me that we’re not breaking up, because we are so breaking up. I’m walking out that door and you will not follow me. You will not bring me food at work, and you will not call me later tonight to ask where I am. Do you know why?” She smiled at me. “Because you think we’re breaking up.” “Yes. No!” I shouted. “I don’t think we’re breaking up. We are in actuality breaking up. It’s for sure. Not a possibility or a probability. We are one hundred percent broken up, as of right now,” I said, punctuating the statement by punching the counter with my pointer finger. She nodded, her eyes wide with a very serious expression on her face. “I hear you. I want you to know that I really do hear you, but it’s just not possible for us to break up. We have that dinner with Momma and Daddy tomorrow, and they already planned dinner. Momma did all her shopping and got everything we could possibly need for your favorite dinner.” “What dinner?” I asked hesitantly. “Tacos,” she grinned. “Fucking hell,” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “I’m not even fucking Mexican!”
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Women’s Fiction
Date Published: May 7, 2020
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
 Take a peek behind the curtain of wealth and glamour in Phyllis Melhado’s sassy and sultry beach read. The guests who arrive for a 10-day stay at the nation’s premier spa at Lavender Lane seem to have everything a girl could want: high-flying careers, social and financial prowess, access to the top fashions and beauty products, and even a dash of fame. Yet each woman is in need of rejuvenation from insecurities, flatlined business motivation, or failed relationships – problems that will require more than the spa’s renowned anti-aging quince cream to fix. As the women learn to trust one another, they each figure out how to take a second chance at life, and reclaim what’s most important.
About the Author
The former Vice President of Public Relations for Estee Lauder, Phyllis Melhado has had her work published in Town & Country, Cosmopolitan, and The Scarlet Leaf Review. She has also ghosted a best-selling beauty book as well as a nationally syndicated beauty column. She earned her Master’s degree in Communications from NYU and lives in New York City. The Spa at Lavender Lane is her first novel. To learn more about Phyllis and her work, visit https://www.phyllismelhado.com.
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Orion
-- EXCERPT:
Orion plunks himself in an armchair and hoists one woman on each of his knees. One begins to caress his chest and the other makes a move to kiss him, but he moves his head so that she nuzzles his neck. This is wrong. So very, very wrong. He’s making a big mistake. My feet drag me in front of Orion and my mouth has a mind of its own. I can’t seem to control or stop myself. “Orion, please don’t do this. Please, I am asking you not to do this,” I urge in a hushed tone, so that I’m not overheard by anyone else in the MC. “What’s it to you, sugar-girl?” he asks, then leans in to add suggestively, “You want in on this?” I am taken aback for a moment. An indignant gasp escapes me. Good thing I bounce back quickly and formulate my thoughts to find a different method of reaching him. “Orion, Vi would forgive you anything–anything, but what you are about to do. This she will never be able to forget or forgive. Is it worth the risk?” I ask with a defined tone. I am thinking is the wrong thing to say when Orion jolts out of his seat. Orion stands, not caring that the women, who were just moments ago seated in his lap, are tossed to the floor with the intensity of his movement. He bends his large frame to meet my eyes. “What do you know about what Vi wants?” he spits out. Then, in a mere matter of seconds, as if the haze lifts from his clouded head, the light dawning on the horizon, he takes a menacing step forward, forcing me to move back a step. He quirks his head to the side to study me. “What do you know, Hanna?” Orion questions, with fury in his tone. “I really think that she loves you and this would be the one thing that she would never be able to forgive you for,” I reply softly. My eyes dart around, looking for an exit. Old instincts start to kick in. Instead I find myself surrounded by Ava, Maddie, Risk, War, and Orion, their eyes all staring at me intently. Damn me and my big mouth.
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The McCabe Brothers
The Complete Collection
by Lorhainne Eckhart
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Now a USA Today bestseller
Join the five McCabe siblings on their journeys to the dark and dangerous side of love! An intense, exhilarating collection of romantic thrillers you won’t want to miss.
This collection includes all the books in this new spinoff series. Don't Stop Me, Don't Catch Me, Don't Run From Me, Don't Hide From Me, and the newest addition Claudia's story in Don't Leave Me.
Don't Stop Me (Vic)
Fifteen years ago, Vic McCabe was headed down a one-way road to destruction with the love of his life. But then the unthinkable happened, a mistake that changed their lives forever.
Successful billionaire contractor Vic McCabe is a man every woman wants, but he gives his heart to no one. However, one day a reporter shows up, asking questions about a past he’s buried, a mistake he made fifteen years ago that could destroy his future and that of the woman he’s tried to forget.
After evidence surfaces, dredging up details of the night that changed his life forever, Vic is forced to seek out the only woman he’s ever loved—the woman who has sworn to hate him forever.
Don't Catch Me (Chase)
He stopped a robbery. Now he has to do the right thing.
Having left his life in politics, lawyer Chase McCabe is on his way to meet his brothers and sort out family matters when he stops for gas and walks in on a robbery in progress. However, he discovers the culprit is just a kid, and her situation may not be as clear as he thought. Authorities have written the girl off, and his need to fix everyone’s problems sets in, putting him on a collision course with a mysterious woman with secrets of her own and entangling him in a precarious relationship that ties him to a place he was just passing through.
Don't Run From Me (Aaron)
Fresh out of the fighting circuit and to those that didn’t know him, Bad Boy Aaron McCabe seemed as if he had it all. Except what everyone doesn’t know is the nightmares that haunt him, the woman he loved who left him and a tragedy that’s driven him to who he is today.
But soon Aaron is caught up in a complex web of secrets, second chances and a gripping twist with two mysterious women that entangles him in a relationship he never believed he was ready for.
A compelling emotional tale about the undeniable power of second chances.
Don't Hide From Me (Luc)
Sometimes what we can’t see is standing right in front of us all along.
Luc McCabe is a man on the edge. Not only has he given up on his ideal happily ever after, which includes a man who’ll love him and children of his own. He’s leaving behind his old life that has been only about endings.
What Luc doesn’t realize is sometimes love happens unexpectedly.
Don't Leave Me (Claudia)
One moment in time could change her future forever.
Even though Claudia is part of the McCabe family, with four older brothers she barely knows, she has a dark side no one in their right mind would mess with, and she still sees herself as alone. That is until one night, when she witnesses an unspeakable crime that blurs the lines of morality. Her first instinct is to run, but when a mysterious handsome man enters her life, promising to keep her safe, she’s caught up in a web of secrets, not knowing who to trust. When her brothers unite, will they expose the truth or destroy any hope Claudia has of finding love?
**Only .99 cents until the end of May!!**
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With flawed strong characters, characters you can relate to, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Lorhainne Eckhart writes the kind of books she wants to read. She is frequently a Top 100 bestselling author in multiple genres, and her second book ever published, The Forgotten Child, is no exception. With close to 900 reviews on Amazon, translated into German and French, this book was such a hit that the long running Friessen Family series was born. Now with over sixty titles and multiple series under her belt her big family romance series are loved by fans worldwide. A recipient of the 2013, 2015 and 2016 Readers’ Favorite Award for Suspense and Romance, Lorhainne lives on the sunny west-coast Gulf Island of Salt Spring Island, is the mother of three, her oldest has autism and she is an advocate for never giving up on your dreams.
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Under the Willows
-- EXCERPT: A frightened “Mom” roused me from a fitful sleep. I swung my legs off the bed, the hardwood cool against my feet. “I’m coming,” I called as I rushed to TJ’s room. I found him sitting up in bed, his eyes big and worried. “What is it, sweetie?” I asked as I sat beside him. “Did you have a bad dream?” “Mom, Alexa was crying again.” “What do you mean?” I tipped his face up and looked him in the eyes. “Alexa can’t cry. She’s not a real person. Tell me what happened.” “I was asleep and I heard a little girl crying. There wasn’t anybody in my room but I could still hear it.” “Maybe you were dreaming.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. “I wasn’t dreaming, Mom.” “Okay, then. Maybe it just sounded like crying.” “There were words, too.” “Words?” He nodded. “I said, ‘is anybody there’ and the crying stopped. Then Alexa said Help us.” His serious eyes dared me to not believe him. 
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His Baby, Her Billionaire
-- EXCERPT:
She turned her head but didn’t speak as her blonde hair fluttered in the gentle breeze of the oceanfront spray. I was close enough to catch her scent. A faint hint of lilac and sweet jasmine blended with the surf-churned air, capturing my focus and pulling me closer to the source. I knew she heard me. I also knew what she was probably thinking. Couldn’t stay away huh? Subtlety isn’t a strength of mine, on the battlefield or in the war of love. In my hands, an arsenal of alcohol, one bottle I’d half-emptied, guzzling it down on the stroll. I hit the beer again, taking a quick pull and attempting to draw her out of her guarded silence. “Guess that’s a no.” It’s not like I gave a damn about the game. I doubted she did either. Then, she turned and my jaw clenched. Easy. Easy. Only it fucking wouldn’t be. The chick was an absolute knockout. She’d be right at the top of any man’s trophy shelf. And if my plan panned out, I’d be adding her to my collection long before the sun crested over the distant capri-blue swells. Maybe it was those early years, being shipped off to military school like a dog chained up in the yard after it’d pissed the floor one too many times. Whatever the cause, the effect had a way of heightening my interest in the fairer sex long before it otherwise might have. Point is, for as long as I could remember, only the most beautiful of women were worth the pursuit. After all, you only live once. Tales from the rocking chair are always better when you landed the big fish, not when it disappeared back to the murky depths. Even so, I never breathed a word of my conquests over the years. Outside the small circle of my SEAL brothers, my appetites were strictly confidential. Sometimes I wondered if my blue-blooded parents thought I might not even be straight but instead playing for the same team like my sister, Shelley. But whatever, fuck them. I thought for certain I’d bedded the best, had more than my fair share of beauties from one far flung part of the planet to the other. That is, until now. My breathing slowed. I blinked even slower and tightened my grip on the bottlenecks so hard, it felt like they might crackle into shards between my fingers. Sunlight flared in the depths of her hazel green eyes. Lightly tanned skin and high cheekbones drew my gaze toward a set of supple, silk-smooth lips. She didn’t bother trying to contain the renegade, wind-whipped strands of her mane as they lashed about, tickling her sun-kissed complexion. Instead of giving me the results of the game, she fixed a little smirk on her lips and came right back at me. “Guess.” That was all the opening I needed. I took a step her direction, the sea-dampened sand giving way under my feet. “Better luck next time.” I lifted the bottle. “How ‘bout a consolation prize?” She wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but no. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” The condensation on the neck dripped from my fingertips as I offered her the bottle once more. “No strings.” I wiggled it. “Why waste this beautiful sunset sober?” Just then, a wave hammered the shoreline behind her, surf thundering as it roared our direction. It was on us in no time, swirling around our legs and tugging at them like a deep sea vacuum. A shriek escaped from her lips. It didn’t sound like fear though, more like a melodic blend of whimsy and surprise. She hadn’t meant to do it. Or maybe she had. I steadied myself, flexing my legs and core while she clung to me. But almost as soon as it came, the rushing current receded, leaving only her fear-filled fingers clutched tight around my biceps. “Sorry.” She sputtered out a reedy breath and snatched her hands away, forming two white-knuckled fists. The doe-eyed beauty stood there frozen stiff, in a defensive position with her hands partially blocking her tits. I imagined those same delicate fingers curled into the meat of my hips while I claimed her wet silk, taking her under the stars in a secluded seaside hidey hole.
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B Mine, Book 3
Horror
Published: April 2020
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
QUEEN FOR A NIGHT
When Lucio Argento is dumped by Amteep High’s most popular girl, he plots revenge in a way he's certain will crush her. He convinces Jamie Blair - the target of his ex’s bullying - into doing a makeover that will garner enough votes for her to be Prom Queen. What he doesn't expect is to fall for Jamie, or to become her willing accomplice in uncovering who is behind the spate of deaths of animals in their community. When their classmates begin to die in the most horrific ways, Lucio and Jamie discover dark supernatural forces are at work, and unless they can conjure a miracle, everyone will die at Prom.
Other Books in the B Mine Series:
His Final Girl
B Mine, Book 1
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
Published: April 2019
DON’T GO IN THE WOODS
Computer nerd, Wes Carpenter, dreads having to spend ten days at summer camp with the rest of his in-coming high school senior class. But when he meets strong-willed and confident farm girl, Linnea Langenkamp, everything about being away at camp improves immediately. When a malicious prank awakens an ancient evil, turning their summer romance into a bloodbath, Wes and Linnea pray they make it home alive while fighting for the survival of their classmates. With Wes’s ingenuity and Linnea’s knowledge of the forest, together they may be able to stop the killer, save the camp, and maybe even find their happily ever after on the way.
Her Haunted Heart
B Mine, Book 2
Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
WHEN THINGS GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT
When Zelda Shaye inherits the infamous Sazerac House, she immediately senses that something’s not right about the ancient mansion. Strange noises interrupt her sleep, the garbage disposal hates her father, and things move on their own. Her cute nerdy neighbor, Tobe Friedkin, confirms her suspicions when he tells her everyone knows the house is haunted and over the years members of the Sazerac family have suffered mysterious deaths until they were nearly wiped out. Zelda is the last female descendant to inherit the legacy, and the family curse. Since her parents don't believe her, it’s up to her and Tobe, with the help of the crazy recluse down the street, and a cat named DeLorean, to lay the unquiet spirit to rest before it’s too late.
Excerpt
Chapter One
January 1984
Brittney Shaw allowed Brandon Teller to kiss her as the clock struck midnight. He’d be the perfect candidate to be her king at the prom if only he went to Amteep High instead of Sunnydale Prep. Looking at the glittering throng gathered in the Skeetshue Country Club ballroom, she wondered if she should have asked Daddy to transfer her to Sunnydale. But no, she’d gone to public school with the same classmates since kindergarten, and they’d witnessed her transformation from a dull, stringy-haired, middle-class girl to the rich, beautiful, popular princess she was today. And before graduation, those peers would see her change from a princess to a queen.
Brandon snapped her attention back to the present. “Hey. My parents are still in Cabo. I can have my driver take us to my place if you want to go somewhere where we can…talk alone.” He trailed his fingertips across her collarbone.
“That’s very tempting,” Brittney purred. “But I have a headache. Maybe next time.”
Brandon’s protests chased her as she left the dance floor and had one of the club employees call her driver and bring her fur from the coatroom. The employee brought the luxurious mink and even placed it over her shoulders.
Brandon didn’t take the hint, instead following her out onto the shoveled patio and down the slick flagstone steps. Rock salt crushed under the heels of her red leather Oscar de la Renta shoes as Brittney thought of how easily she could silence him forever if she felt like it.
Once she was delivered home to the gorgeous mansion on Lake Skeetshue that her father had purchased two years ago, Brittney kicked off her shoes and raced up to her room. She only had a few more hours before her parents would return home from the party.
Quickly, she changed out of her puffed-sleeve red chiffon gown and into a ski outfit that was so two years ago. Something she could easily throw away if things got too messy.
After grabbing the suitcase that she kept hidden in the back of her walk-in closet, she went back out into the winter night. Her boots crunched over the frozen snow. Her nose and cheeks stung from the cold, but it couldn’t be helped.
This was the first day of the new year. A time when she had to give thanks for all she’d received the previous year and ensure the fortunes for this one.
The gardener’s shed was unused in the winter, which made this ritual easier. In the summer, she had to store her sacrifices elsewhere.
The animal whimpered when she opened the door but didn’t try to escape. It was too weak for that now. Instead, it allowed itself to be led to the birdbath in the backyard. Brittney set her suitcase on top of the glass-hard ice surface of the marble birdbath and opened it to reveal the tools that had helped her grant her every heart’s desire.
With practiced ease, she withdrew a large dagger and carved a pentagram in the snow around the birdbath. Then she placed red candles at every point and lit them. Opening one of the books she’d stolen from the library three years ago, Brittany chanted the words that summoned her own personal genie.
Scar rose up in front of the birdbath, looking more solid than he had the first time she’d called him forth from the netherworld. Long, sharply pointed horns extended from his large head. His eyes glowed yellow, and his massive jaws were filled with sharp teeth. The animal let out a piteous squeal and tried to flee, but Brittney was used to this part of the ritual. Still gripping the knife she’d used to carve the pentagram, she slit the creature’s throat.
Steaming blood sprayed through the air, glittering in the moonlight. As she’d expected, crimson droplets splattered on her ski suit, more than a stain removal spray could handle. She shrugged. She’d have to burn the outfit.
Brittney extended her hands and chanted the ritual words, “Oh, Scarlionapskhis, scourge of the soulless, most infernal, please accept this blood sacrifice as a token of my gratitude for the favors you’ve bestowed on me, and as a gift in exchange for making me beautiful.”
The demon inclined its head sardonically and fell upon the still-twitching body of the sacrifice.
Brittney used to gag when Scar devoured the animals she’d killed, but after so many years, she was used to the sight and aftermath. Now, she only wiggled her numbing toes in her snow boots, impatient for the ritual to be over with.
When Scar finished dining, he fixed Brittney with yellow glowing eyes. His growling voice sounded like a rabid dog coughing up shards of broken bones. “Do you have a wish you want me to grant?”
“Not tonight.” Brittney did not fall into the trap. She’d quickly learned not to get too greedy with the demon. Not only because it would grow angry with her if she demanded too much too soon, but also because she didn’t want to owe a debt before she was ready to pay it.
Wishes called for careful consideration, cautious wording, meticulous ritual, and a proper sacrifice.
“This night, I gave you this gift, and now allow you to return to your realm in peace.” Brittney then said the guttural words that banished the demon before she blew out the candles. She then lit a sage bundle and trailed the smoke behind her as she kicked snow over the pentagram. After packing her candles and knife away in the suitcase, she hauled the grisly remains of the sacrifice over to the edge of the cliff where the backyard ended and kicked it over where it sank into the black waters of the lake below.
Back inside, she stripped off the bloody clothes and tossed them in the fireplace. The smell of burning nylon wrinkled her nose. She hoped it dissipated before her parents got home.
After a luxurious soak in a hot bubble bath, Brittney changed into a nightgown and settled into her king-size four-poster bed.
Her parents’ drunken laughter carried up from downstairs.
Mother spoke in a fake, Zsa Zsa Gabor wannabe voice she’d been affecting lately. “Can you believe that Cora Neery dared to show her face at the gala tonight? I would have thought that she would be persona non grata after the incident at the charity ball last month. Some people have no sense of class.”
Brittney’s father cleared his throat and spoke in a grating, patronizing tone. “The Neerys have more money than us and are friends with Mr. Hogadane, punkin’. They’ll always be able to behave as they like, unlike us, who weren’t allowed among their ranks before my promotion.”
“Well, I still think she’s a tacky hussy,” Mother sniffed. Daddy must have made some sort of expression of disapproval, for Mother’s voice shifted back to normal. “I am of course grateful for the improvement of our circumstances. You’ve worked so hard for our family.”
They have me to thank, Britney thought furiously. If I hadn’t learned the mysteries of the occult and called forth Scar, Dad would still be a junior at Woodward & Paulson instead of a full partner, and Mother would have been getting her manicured nails dirty working at the jewelry counter at J.C. Penny. We still would have lived in that ugly subdivision on Locust Lane, and the doors of Hogadane’s country club would still be slammed in our faces.
But it wasn’t her parents’ misfortunes and mediocrity that had motivated Brittney to check out that book at the library on casting spells. It was the desire that every fourteen-year-old girl had.
To be pretty.
Brittney still didn’t know if the spells from that first book had actually worked, though just enough things that she wanted had happened and made her think it wasn’t coincidence. Her acne had cleared, and her hair did seem a little thicker, and the other girl competing for a spot on the cheerleading squad had indeed suffered a terrible fall and had broken her ankle. That was enough of an impetus for Brittany to delve further into the occult.
That first book mentioned the possibility of summoning spirits to do one’s bidding, so she looked up books on that. Most were full of useless ghost stories, but one directed her to exactly what the spell book had promised. Only this book referred to the spirits as demons. Brittney had felt one icy shiver prickle the back of her neck before tossing her hair and deciding that it didn’t matter what they were called, only that they gave her what she wanted.
Months of chants, arcane symbols and a pentagram drawn on her bedroom floor beneath her rug, three dead mice and four dead rabbits later, she brought forth Scarlionapskhis for the first time. All the demon’s names were impossible to pronounce, that was the first challenge in summoning them.
Brittney called her demon “Scar” for short but learned quickly that demons did not appreciate nicknames.
The first wish Scar granted was for her dad to have enough money to buy a new wardrobe from the J.Crew and Esprit catalogs she and her friends pored over. That wish was granted when one of the partners of Woodward & Paulson Law Firm committed suicide, and her father was made into a full partner.
The wardrobe got Brittney a foot in the door with the A crowd at school, but since the queen bees, Heather Price and Jennifer Armstrong, were part of the country club set, Brittney’s family had to be as well.
That wish was granted when her grandmother died shortly after visiting, leaving Brittney’s mother a small fortune, and around the same time, her father landed a prestigious client, gaining the Shaws their coveted invitation to Hogadane’s country club.
Wayne Hogadane was the richest man in Amteep, maybe even the entire northwest. He owned the most prestigious country club, two giant lake cruise boats, the Amteep Resort, the Amteep Press, and, some said, the entire town. Becoming part of Hogadane’s social sphere guaranteed high social status.
Brittney never returned the library books. She couldn’t stand the idea of someone else gaining the power she had. Besides, she reasoned, if these books fell into the wrong hands, good people could be hurt. Demons demanded sacrifices. And while Brittney only offered up creatures that wouldn’t be missed and people who were bad, like her father’s mistress, someone else might not be so discerning.
***
The return to school after Christmas break had Brittney energized. She’d spent an invigorating morning at cheerleading practice in the gym, demonstrating that extra edge of agility that Scar had given her, and examining the loyalty of her friends who’d been away for the break, making sure there were no cracks in their devotion to her as their leader.
After practice, she showered and changed into one of the new outfits she got for Christmas, an oversize, off-the-shoulder cashmere sweater of the palest pink with a large matching hair ribbon, high-waisted acid-washed Guess jeans with rolled-up cuffs, a pink Swatch, and tons of new bangle bracelets. She blow-dried her hair and sprayed it until she had amazing volume.
On the way to first period, her best friend, Heather Price, leaned over and asked, “I heard you dumped Lucio Argento after Christmas.”
Brittney shrugged, trying to ignore the pang of envy at Heather’s new burgundy blazer. “He was beginning to bore me. Men of his breeding simply cannot understand the importance of the finer things in life.”
While Heather nodded in sympathetic understanding of the vast chasm between those who had class and those who didn’t, her other friend, Jennifer Armstrong, stared at her with wide, curious eyes. “Is it true that Lucio’s dad is a mobster?”
She shrugged. “He’s a restaurant owner. I barely saw the man. Besides, if I’d learned the truth, I wouldn’t be alive to tell it, now would I?”
Later, at lunch, Brittney couldn’t fight off a pang of bittersweet regret when she saw Lucio in the cafeteria looking decadently gorgeous with his long black curls, and eyes dark as sin, which perfectly complemented his Mediterranean complexion.
The narrow arching upper lip made him look a little wicked, while his full lower lip promised sensuality. His square jaw and broad shoulders made him look powerful and dangerous. And his large hands… She bit back a sigh, remembering how they felt on her bare skin.
He was fun while he lasted. Her friends had been amusingly awed that she was dating “a bad boy,” and the popular guys had been driven crazy by the fact that Brittney had passed them over in favor of “slumming with a dumb…” She’d never heard so many slurs for Italians in her life until she’d agitated the WASPs’ nest.
Ah, but Lucio had been fantastic in bed and treated her like a queen. Brittney wasn’t so sure that she’d be treated as well when she began dating someone who was her social equal. And being with him was hardly slumming.
Lucio’s father owned Bava’s, one of the fanciest restaurants in town, and if Mr. Argento really was a member of a crime family, then he and his son weren’t poor. Hell, Lucio drove a Trans Am, albeit an older one, and had motorcycle.
But Brittney wanted to be prom queen. Therefore, she needed a worthy king. And no one would vote for an Italian delinquent who’d been held back a year in tenth grade.
Her musings broke as she crashed into Jamie Blair, a friend back in Brittney’s middle-class days, now a pariah who must be avoided at all costs.
Brittney fixed her with a glower. “Watch it, trailer trash.”
Jamie backed away, her black hair falling forward to hide her reddening face. But her light brown eyes flashed a hint of defiance and accusation. “Watch yourself, bimbo,” Jamie’s retort was barely audible as she retreated.
If I hadn’t been staring at Lucio like an idiot, I wouldn’t have bumped into her. I need to focus on finding my king.
But Brittney couldn’t let Jamie’s defiance stand. “Do you want to be dumped into a trash can again?” Her friends were dutifully laughing at Jamie’s retreating form.
Brittney noticed the strong arms of Chet Morgan wrapped around Heather Price’s waist. Now there was an excellent candidate.
His sun-bleached hair and tanned skin attested to a Christmas vacation spent in a warm paradise. His eyes were the color of aquamarines, shining nearly as bright as his perfectly white, straight teeth. His shoulders were broader than Lucio’s, and since Chet was quarterback of the Amteep Devils, he was also more muscular.
And he was definitely more fashionable, looking like he stepped out of the latest L.L.Bean catalog, with his sandy-blond Ken Doll hair, popped-collar polo shirts, and loose-fit tan slacks.
Yes, Brittney mused as she appraised her best friend’s boyfriend. Chet would be a perfect prom king. A lot of people would vote for him because he’s the quarterback. He should be with me anyway since I’m head cheerleader.
She closed her eyes and pictured him being crowned beside her. It should be easy enough to snare him, either with her charms or with magic if she needed to.
And if Heather decides to get in my way, I can get rid of her. The demon likes human flesh better than cats or dogs anyway.
About the Author
Formerly an auto-mechanic, Brooklyn Ann thrives on writing romance featuring unconventional heroines and heroes who adore them. Author of historical paranormal romance in her critically acclaimed “Scandals with Bite” series, urban fantasy in the cult favorite, “Brides of Prophecy” novels, and the award winning, “Hearts of Metal Series, she's now writing the "B Mine" series, horror romances riffing on the 1970s and 1980s horror movies.
She lives in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho with her gamer son, rockstar/IT Guy boyfriend, and four cats.
She can be found online at https://brooklynannauthor.com as well as on Twitter and Facebook.
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Title: Heart of Fire
Author: Sedona Venez
Genre: Second Chance Romance
Publication Date: May 14th, 2020
Blurb: From USA Today bestselling author Sedona Venez comes a new, intense stand-alone firefighter romance about overcoming breathtaking losses at a young age, first love and second chances.
A friendship torn apart by fire…
Lukas was my best friend, the first kid to greet me when I moved from NYC to Vermont.
We never got past friendship, but when he disappeared shortly after his mother’s tragic death in a fire, I always wondered if we could have been more.
Back in New York City, working the beat, I got the wind knocked out of my sails—and found out what happened to the boy I’d known.
Even when we tell ourselves it’s just catching up between friends, I can’t deny that Lukas feels like home, even more than the place I grew up.
But I can’t be the carefree girl I once was.
I can’t trust myself to know what I want, or how to get it anymore.
I can’t trust anyone, even my grandmother, to understand my scars.
What happened to me as a cop haunts me, makes me question whether I chose the right career—but when a crime spree starts in my hometown, I can’t help but jump in.
And when Lukas shows me his scars, I know he can handle mine.
With a career with the NYPD beckoning me back to the city, and obligations pulling me back home, how can I know whether things with Lukas can even work, no matter how much we care about each other?
Heart of Fire is a stand-alone, Second Chance, Firefighter Romance.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Sedona Venez lives in New York City with her hot ex-military hubby--hooah--and their fur babies. She loves writing sizzling, sexy intricate stories about strong but broken characters who push limits, overcome their fears, and risk it all for love.
Author Links:
Text "SedonaVenez" to 33222
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SedonaVenez/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SedonaVenez
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2NomBU9
All I Wanna Do Is You
-- EXCERPT:
Reagan Campbell smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from the lapel of her three-quarter sleeve, out-of-season black blazer. Trying to figure out what to wear as she made the transition from the raging March blizzard in Chicago to the white sandy beaches of the Florida Keys had almost made her late for her afternoon flight at O’Hare. The sooner she got on the plane, the better she’d feel. She leaned against a pillar and glanced at her watch. Any minute they should be making the boarding announcement. On cue, the gate agent picked up the microphone and a crackle sounded through the gate-area speakers. “May I have your attention, please? For passengers traveling on flight 542 to Miami, we’ve received word from the ground crew that they’ve shut down one runway due to snow accumulation. We’ll be delayed for at least an hour while they work through the backlog of departures.” A collective groan rose from the disgruntled passengers, like someone stood in front of them with a conductor’s baton and told them to let their disappointment out in unison on the count of three. An hour or two? Reagan’s hand shook as she slipped a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Teddy would kill her for not taking the flight with the rest of their family earlier this morning. The gate agent continued, “Things might change if they can get another de-icing machine up and running. So please stay close to the gate area.” Reagan glanced out the wall of windows at the blustery, late winter snowstorm. A mid-March blizzard wasn’t outside the realm of possibility in Chicago. But how dare the weather try to interfere with her plans? She’d orchestrated her brother’s wedding down to the tiniest detail. And now Mother Nature wanted to mess with her? The rest of her family made it out of Chicago before the storm rolled in, on a chartered, early morning flight her dad’s Chief of Staff had arranged. As Senate Majority Leader, Ross Campbell had connections and wasn’t shy about using them. Especially if it meant keeping his family out of the limelight and avoiding any unpleasant run-ins with the press. Reagan’s anxiety had kicked into high gear at the thought of flying halfway across the country in a tiny tin can with wings. So she’d used a mandatory meeting at the office as an excuse to take a later commercial flight. If she was going to be gone for a long weekend, she justified to herself, she’d better tie up loose ends or she’d never be able to enjoy herself. It had taken her years to secure a promotion to executive management for a nationwide luxury resort chain that was headed her way. She wasn’t about to risk it. At least on a big plane she felt a little safer. If she’d finally had the courage to conquer her fear of flying, she’d be sliding her freshly-pedicured toes into strappy sandals and sitting at the beachside bar, sipping a mojito by now. The strappy sandals were nestled inside a felt shoe pouch in her checked roller bag. But she could do something about that drink. Her gaze swept over the tacky, thatched hut of the busy airport bar, no doubt an attempt to bring some south of the border sizzle to the dull terminal. She gathered her purse and the bakery box full of cupcakes she’d picked up for her brother, and made her way to a vacant high-top. Just as she reached for a stool, a trio of flight attendants laid claim to the table. Reagan stepped to the side to glance around the packed bar. With so many passengers delayed, it would probably be a while before another table cleared. A cup of hot tea from the coffee shop across the way would have to keep her pre-flight jitters at bay. “You can sit with me.” The voice came from behind her. She hadn’t heard that mixture of grit and deep, rich timbre since the ill-fated night of her high school graduation party. But that was impossible, it couldn’t be him. She took in a deep breath and steeled herself for disappointment. He’d moved to California. Hadn’t heard anything about him in over eight years. Well, except for a late-night, wine-induced Googling session where she’d discovered he’d become a professional photographer after all and had some prints for sale through a gallery in Santa Cruz. Seeing his two-by-two-inch bio picture had sent a zing right to her hoohah and left her tingling with a mixture of regret and what-might-have-been remorse. Slowly turning, she braced herself for the letdown of some middle-aged businessman on the hunt for a quickie. “Reagan Campbell. Long time no see, huh?” Four square inches of a pixelated PNG image on his web site had done nothing to prepare her for the sight of the broad-chested, confident man before her. Her knees turned to spaghetti noodles, and her vision went fuzzy at the edges, like she was looking through a dark tunnel and Zach Anderson stood at the other end, illuminated in a beam of dazzling sunlight. She grabbed the back of a stool to steady herself. “Zach?” His name floated from her lips on a breathy exhale. For over eight years his memory made her emotions bounce back and forth between extremes. Joy at the way he used to make her feel. Anger at the chicken shit way he’d ended things. Shame at the way she’d thrown herself at him the last night they’d been together. The anger and sadness had eventually faded. She even let herself think about Zach from time to time. Even pictured running into each other. But meeting at a cheesy airport bar wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He stood and wrapped her in a strong, comfortable hug. The scent of sunshine and leather drifted off his skin. Her brain registered the scruff of his whiskers against her cheek and the feel of his pecs crushed against her chest. Her heart glowed at the warmth and security of being snug in his arms. Her girly parts screamed for more. All too soon, the hug ended. He gestured to an empty stool and signaled the harried waitress to return to the table. “Pull up a chair. You on that flight to Miami?” Stunned by her reaction to the embrace, Reagan nodded and waited a beat, sure the hunky hallucination would fade away as quickly as he had appeared. When Zach’s image didn’t dissolve, she gripped the edges of the small table in both hands. He smiled, actually gave her the grin with the dimples, like the last time she’d seen him he hadn’t had his hands all over her naked chest. A wave of heat rolled up her neck. “You all right, Reagan? You look a little warm. Have some water.”
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