September 2nd, 2014

Author Spotlight: Snap by Katie Porter

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Trust is a four-letter word…

Command Force Alpha, Book 2

Captain Laurence Madigan is an anomaly—a levelheaded risk taker who learned the dark side of life in Manchester’s slums. He needed those skills to survive fourteen months as a prisoner of Firebird, a shadowy Russian cartel.

When rescued, he receives less than a hero’s welcome. He’s considered a wild card—or even a double agent. After enduring agony and degradation for Command Force Alpha, he’s determined to clear his name and bring Firebird down…even if it means escaping CFA’s London facility with a very personal hostage.

Oxford-educated psychologist Gemma Calloway should fight her abductor tooth and claw, but loyalty to her old friend wins out. Isolated in a rustic hideaway, she tends his wounds and can’t help staring at his scars and prison tattoos.

Their impromptu safe house becomes a haven of uneasy trust and potent, gathering desires. As they sort present dangers from past affection, Gemma realizes she’s in over her head…and up to her heart with longing for a good man whose last reason for living could be revenge.

Product Warnings: This book contains a sexy British spy whose year-long imprisonment has left him a little…pent-up. And scarred. And possibly untrustworthy. Watch out for fast-and-furious sexuality, dares that cement a friendship against all odds, and oh-so-wrong but oh-so-sexy tattoos.

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Copyright © 2014 Katie Porter
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Chapter One

Lawrence Madigan had no shoelaces. He wore moccasin slippers, which meant the lack was no great loss. He wasn’t in his fittest condition, either, so he hadn’t planned to step off for a run any time soon. He could walk. From wall to wall.

That was it.

The door was locked from the outside.

A panel was set in the wall next to the door with a scanner pad the size of a palm. That had changed while he’d been gone. When Laurie had left, Command Force Alpha’s London headquarters had used retina scanners and thumbprints. Maybe they’d finally decided the old method wasn’t secure enough. Or maybe they were afraid he’d snap off an interrogator’s thumb and use it to escape.

From where he sat in a flimsy plastic chair, he stretched out his feet. Considering the length of his legs, his ankles were crossed at a respectable distance. No one had been able to take his bones away. Michail Petronov, his interrogator in Russia, had tried. He’d snapped two of Laurie’s fingers during his hellish year as a detainee. At least Michail had stopped short of playing Dr. Frankenstein and rearranging him, body part by body part.

Reaching toward his toes released locked muscles in his trapezoids and low back. The relief didn’t last long. The door made a nearly silent whoosh as it depressurized. He took a breath, short and shallow, still looking at his shoes. No socks either. He was supposed to be home. The field agents of Command Force Alpha had rescued him but refused to give him socks. Did they believe him so bollocksed up he was likely to hang himself with a slip of cotton?

He’d been offered a noose in Russia.

Perhaps they would send in Mark Fletcher, CFA’s security expert. Laurie might have been wrong in assuming a rescue meant leaving torture behind. After all, he probably deserved as much.

He forced his expression to become impassive, even as a hot flame of righteous anger swelled in his chest.

No time for anger. No time for the rage that had kept him going.

Revenge would come. Soon.

The person on the other side finished the security procedures. The door slid open.

Laurie knew before he lifted his head that Colonel Stafford hadn’t sent Fletch. The subtle scent filling the air was something he hadn’t realized he missed. The most bitter taste of loss was discovered in absences after the fact. The return could be worse than the loss.

“Gemma,” he breathed in the silent way he’d learned. Silence had permitted him the ability to talk to himself during long stretches when his only company was fading hope and s**tty decisions.

He eased up from his stretched position and sat upright. Gemma smiled at him, wistful and wan. Her mouth was full. Lips perpetually quirked at the edges served to round the apples of her cheeks and emphasize the hollows beneath. The gesture accentuated the natural oval shape of her face. Her hair stood out in wild curls. She held a manila folder.

“Laurie.” Her voice was calm, but there was no denying her relief. “By damn, it’s good to see you.”

“Why the hell did they send you?”

Her brows were delicately shaped, with a hint of an arch softening her broad nose and emphasizing her sable eyes. The arch lifted farther. “Colonel Stafford is worried for you.”

Crossing his arms, Laurie leaned back. The leader of Command Force Alpha, a covert, off-the-books espionage unit, didn’t make decisions based on compassion. “You mean he’s worried about me.”

Gemma tilted her head. She didn’t blush at having been caught out. Her tiny smile never slipped. But he’d jabbed her, perhaps even surprised her. Laurie knew her that well.

After all, they’d once been best friends.

“What do you see as the difference?”

“I’m still in prison, Gemma.” The words came out as a snarl. Yet saying her name gave him a glimmer of having been saved. He wanted to get back to the States and Boston in particular—his adopted home. Had CFA assumed him dead and dismantled his duplex in Charlestown? He’d thought himself practically invincible then, living in a safe place and having made his own way to reach it. He had clawed his way up to become a man of importance to his peers. Yes, he’d finally believed himself worthy—above the muck and filth.

He’d been wrong.

“You’re not in prison, Laurie. You’re under observation.”

He pointed at the door, which had shut immediately behind her and pressurized with the finality of an airlock. “Will it open under my palm print?”

“You know it won’t.” She sat in the chair across from him.

The wood table shone with subtle polish under warm yellow lights. That was another difference. The last time he’d been interrogated he had been flat on his back, strapped to a table. The bulb swinging above his eyes had been a burning white. Staring at a light bulb wasn’t the most painful thing…until Mike’s goons had taped his eyes open for nine hours with no blasted other thing to look at.

He glared. “If you don’t mind my saying, observation feels a whole hell of a lot like prison.”

“I’m sorry you’re having a problem making that distinction.” She laced her fingers and leaned toward him, making no move to open the folder. Likely she knew every word of its contents. “We must discuss where you’ve been.”

“A hellhole. You know that.” He lazily twirled two fingers to indicate the windowless holding cell. It wasn’t windowless if one counted the framed, wall-sized mirror, which was something like a window. One for looking in on him. “This place is cleaner.”

“Did they treat you as well as we have?” she managed to ask with a straight face, though Laurie didn’t know how. The idea was laughable.

“Russian jails aren’t the kindest place, even on the up and up.”

“So the place you were detained was not on the up and up.”

“Not nearly close.”

“Tell me about that?” Her inquiry was so gentle, so soft, he battled the brief temptation to give in and open up. A few simple words.

This was Gemma Calloway, a doctor of psychology who specialized in profiling and assessing the mental states of operatives who returned from the field. Two and a half years ago, she’d joined CFA as its first English civilian recruit. Since then, they’d raised a pint together more times than he could count, and had met for coffee every time one of them was in Boston or London. Some nights, they’d laugh until four in the morning, for no good reason other than the fact that the conversation hadn’t ended.

She was his new interrogator.

Laurie stretched his palms flat on the table. He leaned in, intentionally mimicking her body language. “You look so open. So kind. You’re my friend, come to have a little chat. That’s it, is it?”

“Most of it.” She had wide-set eyes and dark lashes. Against her dark complexion, those eyes were shadows to hide her true intentions. “This doesn’t need to be terrible.”

“How much will you report to Nicky?” The colonel knew f**k all about delegation. Colonel Nicholas Stafford trusted his team, but he had his fingers in every pie CFA looked at.

His trust in Laurie hadn’t diminished when it came to infiltrating the Bokun family in Belarus. The colonel’s primary concern was that Laurie would be deep undercover for three months with no backup. Gemma had called it risky. Laurie had decided it was essential. There was no other way to ensure complete integration within the budding crime family.

So he’d gone in alone.

Now, he would deal with Paviel Dashkevic on his own.

“The colonel will want to hear every word.” Her fingers, tipped with subtly manicured nails, tightened on the manila folder. “In point of fact, I might not have need to report anything. He could be on the other side of the viewing window.”

Laurie’s shoulders were so forcefully bunched with tension they hurt. The skin across his back still itched because of the last burn he’d received before Evan Sommers, Alex Faust and Alice “Snow” Weissbourd had busted him out. He’d spent a couple weeks in a hospital bed in Berlin as Dr. Lucy Blomqvist tended the worst of his injuries and packed ten pounds of pure nutrients onto his frame.

“I’m surprised you’d point it out,” he said.

“I wouldn’t condescend to you that way. You should know me better.”

He couldn’t remember Gemma possessing a calculating expression, but she had developed one. A shame. She was one of the liveliest people he’d ever known. He missed the light in her, the energy she harnessed like a leash on a hurricane. Instead, Gemma appeared in a constant state of supreme concentration, layered over with concern he only believed genuine because of their past association. She was good at her job, but she had never been a liar.

“I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

She flinched minutely but otherwise kept her body in check. Her features would never be as calculating as those of Michail Petronov. What sort of man could appear so ordinary and so sinister? “Then go ahead and tell me differently. How soon after stepping into this room had you calculated its every aspect? Furniture, dimensions, potential means of escape—the entire scope of its assets and liabilities.”

“We’re underground,” he replied. “London headquarters.”

“You didn’t answer my question. How quickly? The faster the assessment, the more assumption that you’re under threat.”

“The faster the assessment, the greater likelihood of survival.”

“Now that I think about it, you have yet to answer few of my questions.”

“I said the Russians hadn’t treated me as well as I’m being treated here.” He tipped his chin down and looked at her from under his brow. She watched him right back. There was no escaping her dark, knowing gaze. The hollows of her cheeks were more pronounced now. Her ability to maintain serene amiability never slipped.

“I’ve answered yours,” she said. “You haven’t reciprocated. Is that kind?”

“I don’t feel very kind.”

Her lips tweaked—not a smile, but nothing snide either. “Thank you for answering, Laurie.”

“I used to think I’d never hear a fellow countryman say my name again.” He watched her mouth because it was safer than watching her eyes. “The accent isn’t the same in Russian. Or in Chechen. There were quite a few Chechen nationals in my block. None of them could pronounce my name correctly. Better ‘Laurie’ than their tries at Lawrence, at least.”

“They knew your real name?”

F**king hell, she was quick. And she didn’t have any intention of letting him dodge her.

He wanted out of this little hole in the ground. There was no reason for it, and he had at least half a dozen reasons to leave. He was a member of Command Force Alpha. He had paid the near-ultimate price because he was committed to his team. Operatives knew the dangers. They protected all nations, without prejudice. CFA’s motto was “By Whatever Means”, which suited their prime directive: to disassemble threats the moment an otherwise innocuous or local organization became an international danger.

The Bokun family in Belarus had become such a danger.

Dying in battle might have been kinder than what Laurie had endured. He rubbed the scalpel wounds along the inside of his elbow, thankful CFA security had provided him a long-sleeve shirt. Scars prickled as they healed. Even scars of guilt. Scars born of fear.

Particularly that kind.

He shifted on the damned plastic seat. “All of this fuss says plenty about your being here. It’s clever, really, to send you in to feel me out, despite our friendship. Or because of it.”

“I think it says I’m good at my job.” Her expression was solemn, though her mouth was entirely too lush to thin out. Her smile, however, had flown to better climes. Perhaps she’d decided he wasn’t worth the effort. That would be a first, and a painful one. “Just for the record, you’ve ducked one more question, and I’ve answered one more of yours. Hardly a fair exchange, Laurie.”

“F**k fair.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Her frown was understandable. He had lived for fairness. For equality. He’d struggled to drag himself up from the s**ts of Manchester. Such a long slog. School hadn’t been his way out. Had he studied hard to become a barrister, for example, the taint of his past would still peek through in his accent or creep up behind him in the form of his mother’s record of drug abuse and petty crime. The Army, and then the SAS, had been his escape. He’d accepted work with Nicky Stafford because the colonel was a fair man, and because America made a virtue of working one’s way up. He had done well there.

Laurie had believed in fairness. Now he’d steal cash from the banker’s box during a game of Monopoly. And much, much worse.

Shame at what he’d done to survive stuck like needles that could never be removed from his skin. There was decency…and then there was the man he’d become. There was no way to take it back or undo the damage he hadn’t asked for—hadn’t deserved. Nothing but revenge would assuage what he’d endured.

“Decency and decorum don’t last long when you’ve been where I’ve been,” he said quietly. “A year is a long time, Gemma.”

She leaned forward another inch, renewing his awareness of her spicy-sweet perfume. “There’s decency here. There’s a future here. I just need your cooperation.”

He was fairly disgusted with the way his mouth watered. Glancing down, he wanted to catch a glimpse of her cleavage. He got nothing. She wore a white blouse buttoned up to her thin, elegant throat. A tan leather jacket layered over it, with the sleeves pushed up to display slender forearms. Her jeans were snug but not skintight. If necessary, the layered look could conceal a weapon at the small of her back, although she would’ve undoubtedly handed any pistol to his guards.

She was fiercer than before. She had firmer edges. She could stand up to his aggression, while wearing her infuriatingly calm, studiously concerned expression. That only made him meaner.

He didn’t like the sick places his mind was wandering. Other than Snow and Dr. Blomqvist, he was sitting across from the first female he’d spoken to in nearly a year. He couldn’t restrain how much he wanted and wanted. Not Snow or the doctor. Just Gemma.

There was no time for such desires in his world, not when his mission came first. He would find Paviel Dashkevic—the man who’d discovered his identity and sold him to Firebird—and punish him as no man had ever been punished. Only then would Laurie find a way to slake his violent, pent-up desires.

That wouldn’t have anything to do with Gemma Calloway. Venting a hundred thousand frustrations would create a destructive storm between them. No matter his anger, he could honor their old friendship by sparing her the worst of what he’d become.



 



May 6th, 2014

Contest Winner: A Seal’s Salvation by Tawny Weber

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A SEAL’s Salvation by NYT Bestselling Author Tawny Weber

Where Navy SEAL “”Bad Ass”” Brody Lane goes, trouble follows. Being run out of his hometown years ago for misbehaving with Genna Reilly—the sheriff’s daughter—was one thing. Now Brody is about to step into real danger. Not the suggestive letters he’s been exchanging with Genna, but the kind of trouble that can send a soldier home injured and broken inside…

Genna’s entire life has been orchestrated by her family. The right job. The right friends. Enough! Brody’s return offers the promise of lust-filled pleasures. Of flesh teased and tasted. She’s not expecting to find a soldier with distant eyes who has secluded himself from the world. But this good girl knows exactly how to bring a bad boy back to life….

LEA-ELLEN B.

The book is in your mailbox. Enjoy!

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May 6th, 2014

Sandra Brown Blog Tour & Giveaway

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Love’s Encore

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In one reckless night, Camille Jameson’s life was changed forever: a tall, handsome stranger, an evening of romance — and enough regrets to last a lifetime. Two years later, Camille is a successful interior decorator with the opportunity to restore one of Mississippi’s proudest plantations. She arrives excited and eager to face her greatest professional challenge to date — until Zack Prescott saunters through the mansion’s front door and back into her life. He is exactly as she remembers, except for the knowing look in his eyes that reminds her of what they once shared. Now, forced to live in unbearably close quarters, Camille and Zack will discover if they have the courage to face the past — and, perhaps, build a future together . . .

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Eloquent Silence

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Lauri is a dedicated young teacher for the deaf. Her past conceals a wound still unhealed, her present is a facade, and she uses her career to hide her loneliness. Drake, daytime TV’s most popular star, has two secrets — the daughter he believes may never have a normal life and the dead wife he can’t forget. Jennifer is the beautiful hearing-impaired child who may become a pawn between the man and the woman she needs most. Now, in a chic New Mexico arts community, the three are given a chance to be a family…but first each must find a voice to express the deepest fears and greatest needs of the heart.

Purchase Links

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brcabouttheauthor

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Sandra Brown is the author of more than sixty New York Times bestsellers, including DEADLINE (2013), LOW PRESSURE (2012), LETHAL (2011), TOUGH CUSTOMER (2010), SMASH CUT (2009), SMOKE SCREEN (2008), PLAY DIRTY (2007), RICOCHET (2006), and CHILL FACTOR, all of which have jumped onto the Times bestseller list in the number one to five spot.

Brown began her writing career in 1981 and since then has published over seventy novels, bringing the number of copies of her books in print worldwide to upwards of eighty million. Her work has been translated into thirty-four languages.

Brown holds an honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters from Texas Christian University. She served as the president of the Mystery Writers of American in 2012 and was named ITW’s Thriller Master for 2008, the top award given by the International Thriller Writer’s Association. Other awards and commendations include the 2007 Texas Medal of Arts Award for Literature and the Romance Writers of America’s Lifetime Achievement Award.

Places to find Sandra Brown:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads

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April 25th, 2014

Book Blitz & Giveaway: Legal Briefs by NM Silber

“Hot and sexy romance that will make you laugh out loud.” Mimi Strong, New York Times bestselling author of the the Peaches Monroe Trilogy

Smart and sassy lawyer, Lily Adler, has been waging an epic battle with handsome and cocky Assistant District Attorney, Adam Roth since “the glitter incident” in preschool when they were four.

Their friends’ marriage, a mysterious neighbor, a federal trial, and some bossy big sisters guarantee they’ll be spending plenty of time together.

When they try to play nicely, will they discover that their reaction to each other is even more volatile? Can they manage to date without anyone sustaining injury? Can they avoid the mobsters trying to kill them without killing each other first? Find out in Legal Briefs.

NOTICE: This book contains explicit descriptions of sexual situations and adult language. It is intended for readers over the age of 18.




legalbriefssnippets

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” I called out, heading for the bathroom.

“Use mine.”

“Use yours? That’s kind of gross.”

“Is the thought of my tongue in your mouth gross too? Because that could have an impact on our romantic relationship.” I guess he had a point there.

I went into the bathroom, washed up, did everything else that half a bowl of rum punch and three glasses of water made necessary, and then contemplated his toothbrush. Fuck it, I was going for it. I brushed my teeth and headed for the hall. I saw him lying on the sofa, punching a pillow to soften it up and I wandered in to say goodnight. Okay, and to ogle a little because he had taken his shirt off again and his body was beautiful.

“Goodnight,” I said trying not to stare. I wasn’t succeeding very well and the amused look on his face told me that he had noticed.

“Goodnight,” he said, trying not to look at my boobs, bouncing around jauntily under McGruff the Crime Dog as I moved. He wasn’t succeeding too well either, I might add.

“If you need anything I’ll be in there,” I said glancing off toward his bedroom.

“It’s my apartment, I’m sure I can find whatever I need.” He gave into temptation and let his eyes drop for a moment to my body. “Whatever I need that it would be appropriate for me to have tonight,” he added, sounding frustrated. He grabbed his iPad from the end table, and settled into read.

“What are you reading?” I asked curiously.

“Espionage thriller.”

“Ah, I thought you wanted to read the rest of my…”

“I do, want to read them, but I couldn’t handle that tonight with you here and half naked. I might forget my rules about women who have been drinking to excess. Now go get some sleep, because you’re getting me hard again, and if I practice any more self-love tonight, I might get carpel tunnel.”

“You mean you were…” I must have looked surprised.

“What did you think, I was just really hygienic?”

“I thought maybe you were taking cold showers,” I admitted.

“Hell, no. I don’t waste God’s gifts.”

In high school N.M. Silber was voted most likely to go to jail. Coincidentally, she went on to become a criminal defense attorney, and from there, it was an easy transition to smut peddler. Now, in addition to being the author of best selling sexy Romantic Comedies, she’s the owner of her own publishing house, a proud Jewish mother, and an intellectual badass.

You can find her on Facebook athttps://www.facebook.com/NMSilber unless she owes you money, in which case I don’t where she is

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

So, that everyone knows up front what I write, I have prepared …

Nadine’s Writing Manifesto:
1) My characters don’t cheat.
2) My male characters treat the women they care about with respect.
3) My couples communicate rather than react.
4) My goal is to make you laugh, swoon, blush and hide in the bathroom to read. My goal is NOT to make you to go through a box of tissues or throw your Kindle.
5) My couples will have fun, healthy, hot, and sexy sex. Nobody gets hurt – physically or emotionally.
6) My female characters will be strong, intelligent and unwilling to be involved with men who act like they are A) fifteen B) emotionally disturbed C) asshats.
7) There will be no amnesia, secret babies, dead parents, break ups over misunderstandings, book covers with Fabio on them or use of the words “throbbing manhood.”
8) Despite all of the above ^^ I will still provide PLENTY of conflict and tension and sizzling chemistry between my characters.

THIS IS MY PLEDGE TO YOU DEAR READERS – because that’s how I roll. Thus, ends our public announcement. You may now resume with your regularly scheduled programming.

WEBSITEFACEBOOKTWITTERGOODREADS ☆ TUMBLRYOUTUBEPINTEREST

ALSO AVAILABLE

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March 25th, 2014

Cafe Spotlight & Giveaway: A Seal’s Salvation by Tawny Weber

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A SEAL’s Salvation by NYT Bestselling Author Tawny Weber

Where Navy SEAL “”Bad Ass”” Brody Lane goes, trouble follows. Being run out of his hometown years ago for misbehaving with Genna Reilly—the sheriff’s daughter—was one thing. Now Brody is about to step into real danger. Not the suggestive letters he’s been exchanging with Genna, but the kind of trouble that can send a soldier home injured and broken inside…

Genna’s entire life has been orchestrated by her family. The right job. The right friends. Enough! Brody’s return offers the promise of lust-filled pleasures. Of flesh teased and tasted. She’s not expecting to find a soldier with distant eyes who has secluded himself from the world. But this good girl knows exactly how to bring a bad boy back to life….

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March 18th, 2014

New Release Spotlight & Giveaway: Up In Knots by Gillian Archer

upinknots

Author: Gillian Archer
Miniseries: The Pleasure Code
Category: BDSM, Contemporary Romance, Erotic Romance, Romance

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After the loss of her Dom and first love two years ago, the time has come for Kyla to again allow herself the pleasure of giving up control. She isn’t looking for anything serious yet, just the comforting embrace of rope and a firm hand on her body for the night.

Rope-top Sawyer is extremely skilled and he doesn’t do relationships–but he’s fascinated by the gymnastics instructor who approaches him at a kink con. By the end of the day he’s vowed to help her feel submissive pleasure again, and to introduce her to a few Doms she can choose from.

But as Sawyer breaks down Kyla’s emotional defenses, his barriers also come down. Soon he can’t imagine giving Kyla over to any other Dom–and Kyla can’t imagine being with anyone else. When their feelings are put to the ultimate test, they’ll learn that while taking risks in the bedroom is easy, taking risks in love is terrifying.

brcabouttheauthor

Gillian has a bachelor’s degree in mining engineering but prefers to spend her time on happily ever after. She writes the kind of stories she loves to read—the hotter the better!

When Gillian’s not pounding away on the keyboard, she can be found surfing the couch indulging in her latest reality tv fixation, baking something ridiculously tasty (and horrible for her waist line) or snuggling with her husband.

Home is currently in the wilds of Nevada with her amazing husband and two goofy dogs.

Places You Can Find Gillian:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Email | Silken Sheets & Seduction

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March 14th, 2014

Cafe Spotlights: Reaper’s Legacy by Joanna Wylde

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Eight years ago, Sophie gave her heart—and her virginity—to Zach Barrett on a night that couldn’t have been less romantic or more embarrassing. Zach’s step-brother, a steely-muscled, tattooed biker named Ruger, caught them in the act, getting a peep show of Sophie he’s never forgotten.

She may have lost her dignity that fateful night, but Sophie also gained something precious—her son Noah. Unfortunately, Zach’s a deadbeat dad, leaving Ruger to be Noah’s only male role model. When he discovers Sophie and his nephew living in near poverty, Ruger takes matters into his own hands—with the help of the Reapers Motorcycle Club—to give them a better life.

Living with outlaw bikers wasn’t Sophie’s plan for her son, but Ruger isn’t giving her a choice. He’ll be there for Noah, whether she wants him or not. But Sophie does want him, has always wanted him. Now she’ll learn that taking a biker to bed can get a girl dirty in every way…

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March 13th, 2014

Contest Winner: The Bad Boy Billionaire’s Girl Gone Wild by Maya Rodale

girlgonewild

The second installment of a sexy, whirlwind romance about a modern day heroine writing historical romance novels based on her romantic misadventures with the bad boy billionaire.

Being good hasn’t exactly worked out so well for Jane Sparks. Her ex-boyfriend dumped her for being too predictable and her fake fiancé, Duke Austen, is counting on her good-girl image to repair his bad boy reputation. But everything changes with the publication of the historical romance novel she wrote based on her fauxmance with the Bad Boy Billionaire. Suddenly, she’s notorious, scandalous, and causing lots trouble.

Duke Austen has admired Jane’s poise and perfectly demure behavior…qualities that seemed to have vanished once she helped him land a big investment deal. But now that his company is on the verge of a twenty billion dollar IPO, the stakes have never been higher—and Jane has never been more shocking, provocative and wickedly irresistible. She’s not at all the woman he bargained for, yet she’s the only one he wants.

Duke is determined to woo his girl gone wild. She’s determined to keep him guessing. But Jane is discovering there’s nothing so appealing as a billionaire who’s mad, bad, and dangerously seductive…

SHADOW K.

The book is in your mailbox. Enjoy!

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