Excerpt: Three Simple Words by A.J. Pine

She’s holding out for a happy ever after.

Annie

I know where to find my happily ever after—between the pages of a romance novel. It’s why I sell books, why I blog about them, and why I’ll never get disappointed by love.So what if my brother’s best friend from high school is now a bestselling author? Or that he just blew back into town on a Harley, filling out a pair of jeans like he never did before? Or that he’s agreed to do a signing at my bookstore on such short notice? Because despite all his adoring female fans, I kind of hated his book.

Wes

The last time I saw Annie Denning, she was a senior in high school, three years older than me and way out of my league. 

Now I’m her last-minute date to a wedding, and what started as a night of pure fun has turned into something more real than either of us anticipated.

Annie is my muse. When I’m with her, my writer’s block fades away, and the words finally flow.

The only problem? She wants the fairy tale—her very own happily ever after—and anyone who’s read my book knows the truth. I just don’t believe they exist.

Excerpt

She took a step closer, and he inhaled the warm scent of vanilla and, maybe, a hint of cinnamon? He’d been too caught up in the moment to notice before. But now he began to feel drunk, wondering if one glass of wine could knock him on his ass. But he knew it couldn’t have. It was this woman.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

“Jesus you smell good, Annie.”

She leaned closer. Because apparently she was trying to kill him.

“What would the line be—if you wrote it in your book? How would you describe my scent?”

Uh, he could describe the agony of the erection straining against his pants, but somehow he thought she wouldn’t appreciate that.

Christ. Words. She wanted words, now? After he told her he was blocked? But he had to prove his plan would work, that they could use this evening—and each other—to their advantage and neither of them be worse for the wear.

Fine. Words. The girl wanted words, so he would deliver. “He grew drunk,” Wes said. “Drunk on the nearness of her, on the warm, sweet scent of home. Because that’s what she was to him. She was home. And until he kissed her, he hadn’t known what that meant. Home wasn’t a place. It was a state of mind. It was her, the intoxicating scent of her skin, and his lips pressed against it.”

He hadn’t realized until he spoke the last of it that his eyes were closed. Maybe hers were, too, because she wasn’t saying anything. All he heard was her sharp, shallow breaths. All he felt was his forehead pressed to hers.

How the hell did they get here?

“I think your writer’s block might be cured,” she whispered. “That was way more romantic than an ice sculpture.”

Wes laughed softly. “I don’t write romance,” he said.

“Whatever,” she countered, but she was still smiling.

“How about your ex situation? That cured yet, or do we want to give them more of a show?”

She cleared her throat. “I think the jury’s still out.”

Okay. They were on the same page—so to speak. He wanted this night, whatever ended up happening, and Annie seemed on the verge of jumping off this cliff with him.

He straightened and took a step back so his eyes could find hers. She chewed her bottom lip.

“One night, Annie. Whatever you want out of this evening, I’m your guy. And when we go home tonight—”

“Tomorrow,” she said, and Wes’s brows drew together. “When we go home—tomorrow…”

About the Author

AJ Pine writes stories to break readers’ hearts, but don’t worry—she’ll mend them with a happily ever after. As an English teacher and a librarian, AJ has always surrounded herself with books. All her favorites have one big commonality–romance. Naturally, her books have the same. When she’s not writing, she’s of course reading. Then there’s online shopping (everything from groceries to shoes) and, of course, a tiny bit of TV where she nourishes her undying love of vampires and superheroes. And in the midst of all of this, you’ll also find her hanging with her family in the Chicago burbs.

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Spotlight: Pushing Perfect by Michelle Falkoff

Genre: YA Contemporary Mystery
Release Date: October 25th 2016
HarperTeen

A girl’s quest for perfection results in dangerous consequences in this layered, suspenseful YA novel by the author of Playlist for the Dead.

How far would you go to be perfect?

Kara has the perfect life. She gets perfect grades. She never messes up. Until now. Because perfection is an illusion, and Kara has been struggling to maintain it for as long as she can remember. With so much pressure to succeed, it’s hard not to do whatever it takes. 

But when Kara takes a new underground drug to help her ace the SATs, she doesn’t expect to get a text from a blocked sender, telling her to follow a set of mysterious instructions—or risk her dark secret getting out. Soon she finds herself part of a group of teens with secrets of their own, who are all under the thumb of the same anonymous texter. And if they don’t find a way to stop the blackmailer, their perfect futures will go up in flames.

This dark, emotionally resonant contemporary YA novel is perfect for fans of We Were Liars and The Secret History.

Excerpt

The Brain Trust was occupying its regular table when I came into the cafeteria with my brown bag lunch. As always, I had to walk by the drama table, with Isabel sat with her theater friends, and the swim team table, where Becca sat. They didn’t look up when I passed them by. They never did.

Mom had made me spinach salad with quinoa and feta and a lemony dressing. Brain food. She’d done a ton of research into my skin condition and had made me try a million different diets that, just like everything else, did nothing. She’d amped up her game in anticipation of the SAT exam. The test was coming up in a little over a week, and though I’d studied so much I’d worn my Princeton Review guide to shreds, I was terrified to actually take it.

Ever since everything went down with Becca and Isabel, I’d buried myself in schoolwork, spending all my time writing papers and studying for tests and making sure I did as well as I possibly could. It was all I had left. I was still hiding my face with makeup, but sometimes it felt like I was hiding my whole self, too. Or that I didn’t have much self left to hide. By my count, it had been over a year since I’d talked to anyone about anything except school. Even at home, all my parents talked about was how well I was doing, how proud they were of my hard work; they didn’t seem concerned that I was always alone. Sure, Mom had asked about Becca and Isabel at first, but I’d mumbled something about people changing in high school and she’d let it go. I’d convinced myself that everything would be different if I went to the right college.

But I could only do that if I killed it on the SAT.  

I’d always been good at taking tests, but the SAT was different. I don’t know if it was just the pressure all by itself or if some secret part of me was convinced that standardized tests would somehow reveal how very not perfect I was, but I’d had a full-on panic attack when I took the PSAT—I hadn’t even finished it. I’d left the room before people could see me freaking out. I was so spooked by the thought of the SAT that I’d put it off until this year, rather than taking it as a junior like everyone else in my classes.

The Brain Trust was a group of kids I’d met in the Gifted and Talented Program back in grade school. We weren’t friends, exactly, but we had all our classes together, and we all shared the common goal of wanting to go to college on the East Coast. Harvard, specifically. Arthur Cho was a classical violinist whose parents didn’t want him to go to Juilliard because they thought it would limit his options; David Singer dreamed of being an entrepreneur like Mark Zuckerberg, even though I kept telling him what my parents told me, which was that Silicon Valley was full of Stanford grads who looked down on people from Harvard. Julia Jackson, my nemesis, was gunning for a particular science scholarship and wanted to go straight from undergrad to Harvard Med.

As for me, I just wanted to get as far away from Marbella as possible. I liked the idea of Harvard because it seemed like the kind of place I could start over, where everything might be different. No one would know me as Perfect Kara there; at a place like Harvard, it would be normal to love math and to care about academics more than anything else. It didn’t necessarily have to be Harvard; any good school out east would do, but my last name was Winter and I’d only ever seen snow in Tahoe. I wanted red and orange leaves in the fall, tulips in spring, baking heat in summer. I wanted change.

“The National Merit Semifinalist list came out today,” Julia said, her voice all sugary. “Didn’t see your name on there.” Julia and I had been in classes together since kindergarten and teachers had been pitting us against each other the whole time. Handwriting competitions in first grade, speed-reading contests in second, multiplication-table races in third—by then it had gotten old for me, but it never had for her. Now I was first in the class, but she was right on my heels, and I knew she’d made it her mission to pass me by.

“Nope,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I assume congratulations are in order?”

Julia nodded, as did the other two. Great. So I was the only one. “Well, I’m really happy for you guys.” And I was, but I could also feel the anxiety kicking in. It had become a familiar feeling—I’d get this wave of nausea, then a weird thumping in my head, and then my pulse would start to race. I’d feel cold but get sweaty, which was usually the point when I’d take a walk or something to calm myself down. They were sort of my friends, but they were also my competition, as my guidance counselor kept reminding me. The problem was that they each knew exactly what they wanted, and everything they did was in service of their goals. I had no idea what I wanted, other than knowing it had something to do with math, and that put me at a disadvantage. The only way to make myself stand out—the only way to have a real chance at a new life—was to be valedictorian at one of the most competitive public high schools in the country, which Marbella High was. And to nail the SATs.

Basically, I had to be perfect.

About the Author

Michelle Falkoff's fiction and reviews have been published in ZYZZYVA, DoubleTake and the Harvard Review, among other places. She is a graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop and currently serves as Director of Communication and Legal Reasoning at Northwestern University School of Law.

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Excerpt: Hooked On Love by Jennie Marts

Chicago City Girl Tackles Colorado Mountains with Sexy, Reclusive Guide 

Avery Oliver can see the byline now. What better way to jumpstart her journalism career than to head out into the woods with a sexy guide? It’s all very Bear Grylls, but she’ll take it, even if it means ditching her beloved designer suits and handbags. 

All Sullivan Reed needs in life is a fly rod and the roar of a river. Playing guide to a hot little reporter can’t end well…until they strike a deal that’s mutually beneficial. She’ll pretend to be his girlfriend to deflect an overly flirtatious neighbor, and he’ll help her with the article. It’s a win-win. 

Until it isn’t. By the time a storm strands them in his cabin, Sully’s done pretending. He wants Avery—badly—but she’s a big-city girl looking for adventure, not his simple life. So why does releasing her feel like he’s lost the perfect catch?

Excerpt

The distraction of her gorgeous legs almost did him in. Literally.

Sullivan Reed hit the brakes just in time to avoid a collision in front of the general store.

The curvy blonde in the red jacket didn’t even notice, her focus intent, trying to wrench her purse from the passenger seat of her car—a little foreign number with rental tags.

She was wearing some kind of short pants, not quite shorts but not really a skirt. Must be the new fashion—not that he paid attention to fashion. According to his ex, he never noticed anything.

But he noticed this woman—noticed her long legs, her too-high heels, and what the hell was up with that purse? It was practically the size of Wyoming. What could she possibly be carrying in there? He could pack for a three day trip in a grocery sack.

Not that he cared. He didn’t have time to be thinking about how high her heels were or the enormity of her handbag when he had other things to worry about. Bigger fish to fry. So to speak.

He needed to get in, grab his supplies, and get back to the shop. He’d stayed up late last night tying some new flies and wanted to get the new stock put up this afternoon so he could be out on the creek by dusk.

Early summer in the Colorado mountains was like paradise to a fly-fisherman. Plus he needed the time spent fishing tonight to mentally prepare himself for the visitor who was supposed to arrive tomorrow.

Besides, with that long blond hair and tall curvy figure, the woman in the red jacket was totally out of his league.

Not that he had a league, or even wanted to be in a league. He wasn’t even particularly interested in the game right now. He just wanted to be left alone.

Present company excluded. He reached across the seat and patted the neck of his golden retriever, Sadie.

Sadie was the only female in his life now, the only female he trusted, and that was fine with him. She hadn’t left him, didn’t yell at him to make more money, never nagged him to pick up his wet towels off the bathroom floor, and she hardly ever snored. All attributes that he valued.

The dog whined, sitting upright in the seat of his old truck, her gaze intent on the blond woman.

She stood on the sidewalk, oblivious to him and the fact he’d almost run her down, her large round sunglasses perched low on her nose as she looked over them to read the parking meter.

Sully watched her dig into her cavernous bag for change. He was no lip reader, but he was fairly certain she dropped a pretty clear F-bomb before pulling her hands out and throwing them up in disgust, apparently giving up on the effort.

He stepped out of his truck, his gaze captivated by the way her hips swayed and the swish of the breezy fabric of her shorts against her legs as she hurried into Miller’s Mercantile. He slammed the door and stepped up to the curb, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his shorts and jingling his loose change.

After dropping a quarter into his own meter, he paused in front of hers.

It would serve her right to get a ticket. “Just because this town is small doesn’t mean you can just ignore the law,” he grumbled, half to himself, half to the dog who watched him intently, and then he dropped a quarter into her meter.

Pausing, he thought about the size of her purse—she was probably pretty high maintenance and would be in there for a while.

He dropped in a second quarter.

About the Author

USA TODAY Best-selling author Jennie Marts loves to make readers laugh as she weaves stories filled with love, friendship, and intrigue. She writes for Entangled Publishing, and reviewers call her books “laugh out loud funny” and full of great characters that are “endearing and relatable.”

She is living her own happily ever after in the mountains of Colorado with her husband, two sons, two dogs, and a parakeet that loves to tweet to the oldies. She’s addicted to Diet Coke, adores Cheetos, and believes you can’t have too many books, shoes, or friends.

Her books include the contemporary western romance Hearts of Montana series, the romantic comedy/ cozy mysteries of The Page Turners series, the hunky hockey-playing men in the Bannister Brothers Books, and the small-town romantic comedies in the Lovestruck series of Cotton Creek Romances.

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Excerpt: Lessons in Gravity by Megan Westfield

All eyes are on Josh Knox…Fearless. Guarded. Cut-to-perfection. Daredevil rock climber. The best in the world.

This time he’s poised to scale Yosemite’s notoriously treacherous Sorcerer Spire, with Walkabout Media & Productions filming every move.

April Stephens’s dream to be a documentary filmmaker rests on her acing her internship with Walkabout, and that means getting the abrasive Josh to give her more than one-word answers in his interviews.

The problem is, with every step forward professionally, she and Josh are also taking a step forward personally, and after watching her stunt pilot father die in a fiery crash, a guy who risks his life for a living is the last person she should be falling for. Especially because in one month her internship will have them dangling three thousand feet in the air from the side of the Sorcerer. She’ll be filming. He’ll be climbing without a rope.

Excerpt

Josh’s fingertips appeared first, followed by a tuft of hair, then his eyes, face, shoulders,

and the rest of his body. He stood at the cliff’s edge and shook out his hands. He put them on his

hips and looked into the camera lens. “Well, what now?” he asked.

April groaned. He’d totally ruined the sequence, and she wanted to give him a hard time

about it, but the guys would be watching this later, so she just said, “Whatever you’d normally

do.”

He walked in from the edge about ten feet, sat down, and started pulling the excess rope

up to the top. “How’d it go?” she asked him.

“Do you want me to look at you when I answer?”

“Whatever feels natural.”

“There isn’t anything natural about having a camera at the top of my climb.”

“Well, how’d it go?”

“Fine.”

“Josh!”

“Can’t we do this later?”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

“Fine.”

“What were you feeling when you got to the top?”

“I was excited to see you.”

She made a mental note to cut this section out before

Danny saw it. “And what else?”

His bangs were clumped into little points from the sweat on his forehead. “Nothing else.”

“Did you feel relieved to be finished? How about a sense of accomplishment?”

“Just you.”

“You cannot say that on camera!”

“Oh, come on,” he teased. “Wouldn’t it show my personality? Isn’t that what you people

are always hounding me about?”

“Give me two good sound bites and I’ll turn off the camera. We don’t have much time up

here.”

“Just tell me what to say and I’ll repeat it.”

“No way. It wouldn’t sound right.”

“I am completely serious. If said I was thinking about anything other than you when I

was climbing, it would be a lie.”

He untied the rope from his harness, and before April knew it, he’d pulled her in front of

the camera and was kissing her.

“Josh! I’m recording right now!”

He laughed.

“I’m going to have to cut this footage out of my log, and it’s not that easy. And where’s

Lars? Don’t you need to belay him up?”

“Lars wouldn’t be able to do some of the moves on that last pitch without aid gear. I told

him to just rap down with your crew.”

Josh held her at arm’s length and examined her. Deep breaths moved her breastbone,

which was exposed in the low neck of her jog top. His gaze was unnerving and energizing

at the same time.

He bent his arm, bringing her in close to kiss again. Under the huge, blue sky, with the

breeze slipping between the bridges of their noses and across her back, it felt like the whole

world was watching, and she liked it. She wanted everyone to see her like this.

About the Author

Megan Westfield has dabbled in many hobbies and pastimes over the years, ranging from playing the cello to cake decorating (i.e., icing-eating) to a dozen different outdoor adventure sports. Eventually, she discovered the only way to do it all was though writing—her first and strongest passion. She writes new adult fiction because she loves exploring the powerful and formative years between high school and the quarter-life crisis. As a reader, her favorite books are those with a truly unique, real-world setting, and, of course, a love story.

Megan grew up in Washington state, attended college in Oregon, and lived in Virginia, California, and Rhode Island during her five years as a navy officer. She is now a permanent resident of San Diego where she and her husband count family beach time with their two young kids as an adventure sport. Megan was formerly the editor of a small weekly newspaper in Southern California and is represented by Melissa Edwards of Stonesong Priest Literary Agency.

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Excerpt: Before She Became a Lady by Wareeze Woodson

Laurel Collingsworth, seventeen and deeply in love, expects to marry her hero and live in wedded bliss forever after. Instead, with the ink barely dry on the marriage lines, Lord Robert Laningham is called away to Spain and the war. With a heavy heart, she sends her husband off with a kiss and a prayer for his safe return. 

Now alone in her new role of Lady Laningham, she faces a series of terrifying events, shadowy intruders, missing jewelry, and mysterious footfalls in the night. Added to her alarms, she must fight her hostile sister-in-law for the reigns of her husband’s establishment. 

When Lord Robert Laningham returns, can she convince him danger stalks the halls of the ancient mansion? In his wounded state, will he listen or must she protect her child, her recovering husband, and her household by herself?

Excerpt

Mid-morning drifted into evening, the same, yet not the same with Robert recouping above stairs. Fear for her husband’s health tightened her nerves. More determined than ever to aid in his recovery, she took time with her ablutions before adding a dash of scent to her wrist. “Alice, arrange my hair pulled back with curls falling from the crown. Lord Laningham admires that particular style. I so wish to please him tonight.” She handed a necklace to her maid. “I’ve chosen the pearls to wear. He purchased the set when we stole a few days for ourselves.”

She handed the necklace to her maid and viewed the pearls around her throat. Smiling at her image, she decided her hair appeared well enough, and the dress showed her figure to advantage. Satisfied, she stood.

“You look ever so grand, milady.”

Stepping into the sitting-room before approaching his chamber, she said, “Don’t wait up for me, Alice. I’ll manage.”

Alice nodded. “Very good milady.”

Laurel tapped on the door and entered. Robert sat in his chair, the firelight casting shadows over his gaunt features. He appeared more himself, clean-shaven and in a brocade robe adding a little color to his cheeks.

His eyes lit with admiration, and he held out his hand. “Welcome, Laurel. I would bow to your beauty if I could.”

“Robert, how ridiculous you have become. That’s the next best thing to writing an ode to my eyebrows or some such thing.”

He laughed. “I’m pleased you enjoyed my compliment. Now, let’s eat.”

She couldn’t suppress a grin. “Always directly to the main issue with you, is it—practical and to the point.”

“Exactly so. Admit you wouldn’t wish me any different.”

She nodded in agreement and picked up her napkin. “On with it, then.”

Although Robert had suggested the meal commence, he ate very little. However, he did refill his glass several times. Finally, Laurel had her fill. Seemingly relieved the meal was over he struggled to his feet and called for Joseph.

“Don’t go. I want you to stay a while.”

She nodded.

After his man-servant helped him to bed and departed, Robert patted the bedding beside him. “I want you to lie beside me. I need your warmth next to me, to know I can turn my head and there you are. I want to kiss you goodnight and hold you for a little while. Remove your dress down to your chemise, but leave the jewelry.” He motioned to the bed again.

She didn’t know if such an action was wise or not, but she wished to lay wrapped in his arms again. That would be enough. She stripped to her chemise and crawled in beside him. Rolling over on his good side, he nestled her to his chest and kissed her. The smooth feel of his body against her, the strength in his arms, and the tangy scent of him imparted a sense of safety, warmth, and love. Not many minutes later, a gentle snore rose and fell with each breath he took. After a measure of minutes, she climbed out of his bed, collected her garments, and left his room. Yes, it was enough for now.

About the Author

I am a native of Texas and still live in this great state. I write period romance tangled with suspense. I married my high school sweetheart, years and years ago. We raised four children and have eight grandchildren, and grandchildren are Grand. At the moment, all my children and my grandchildren live within seventy miles of our home, lots of visits. My husband and I still love each other after all these years the stuff romance is made of, Happy Ever After!

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Excerpt: Don't Lie to Me by Amber Bardan

Amber Bardan returns with a heart-stopping third installment in her high-octane, highly addictive Bad For You series

A fling with her best friend's reclusive business partner should've been harmless.

When Emma meets him, the only way she's looking to be tied down is in the literal sense. But Avner—shady hacker, off-the-books investigator, occasional spy—takes her breath away. He's the first man who doesn't turn to mush under her sexual spell: a fact that makes what's between them very different, and very real.

Beautiful and uninhibited, Emma is everything Avner thought she would be and more. Yet his deadly past and dark duties can never be forgotten…not even as he succumbs to their seductive intimacy. But for the first time he's after something of his own, as well.

And now that he's found Emma, he'll protect her, no matter what. Because anything worth loving is worth fighting for.

But nothing about Avner is remotely harmless.

Soon, Avner has infiltrated Emma's personal life, stalled her career and nearly destroyed everything she's worked for—all in the name of protection. Desperate and heartbroken, drawn into a secret criminal underworld in her quest for understanding, Emma discovers the truth: Avner's secrets are far more devastating than his lies.

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you're looking for with an HEA/HFN. It's a promise! 

Excerpt

His other hand snaked to my waist, and he caught me up so completely against him, I couldn’t focus outside of his touch or the way he looked at me—hungry and visceral. “Do this with me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

My head lolled into his hand. I ran my fingers up to his shoulder. He was so strong.

So strong.

His muscles slid under my touch. Not just his body, but him. There’s no way I’d fail working with him.

He knows how to get what he wants…

My drooping eyes widened. No. Like that, I could think again. He did know how to get what he wanted. Including resorting to bribery. That’s what he’d just done with me. Everything he’d said was to get me to do what he wanted. I stilled, but didn’t pull away. My research wasn’t their area of expertise—it was Waldolf’s. Not to mention they had practically all the money in the world. They didn’t need my research even if the results ended up financially beneficial.

That’s not why this work was important to me at all. An investor would expect a profit, but I’d do this for nothing if I could. Haithem and Angelina wouldn’t resent me, no matter who I worked with or for.

Anger spiked through my system.

I knew how to dabble in a little innocent manipulation—a twist to a smile here, a bite of my lip there—to bend things my way. But what he’d done to me, it wasn’t a smile or a wink, or even a look, and it sure as hell wasn’t innocent.

He’d used words.

Words he could have plucked directly from my own skull. Words I feared and desired most. Words he flung at me like little snares to reel me in.

“The problem is I don’t trust you.”

He dropped his hand from the back of my head to rest high on my shoulder at the base of my neck. “I’ve given you no reason not to trust me.” His eyes went lazier. Those impossible lashes of his, lowering, sucking me into the pure sex of his gaze. “We’re friends. You can trust me.”

“I don’t think so. You already let me down once,” I whispered, and good-job-me for managing speaking.

“How’s that?” he drawled, but his lashes opened.

He still tried to seduce me into his grasp. Damn him, it was effective. Being so close, his hands on me, looking at me that way, it was all so very effective.

“You promised to get me off.” I let it all purr into my voice. All the lust he tried to use against me, I turned it back on him, and whispered, “But, I didn’t get off.”

He laughed, a rich rumble so close I almost felt the vibration of it. “Are you implying I need to fuck you to earn your trust?”

His thumb dipped lightly into a groove at my collarbone.

There was no way to suppress the pulse he must feel there, but so what, he couldn’t be sure it was desire. “You’ve fucked me three times already.”

He twitched, the passionate haze lifting lightly from his expression. “How do you figure that?”

“The way you looked at me before, you were fucking me with your eyes.” I kneaded his shoulder. “The night of the wedding, that night you just plain fucked me over. And again now, you’re fucking with me right now. Fucking with my head.” I pushed myself away from him. “So that’s three times you’ve fucked me. Three times and I haven’t come once.” A snarl moved into my lip. “So sorry, that’s just not the way I like to be fucked.”

I turned for the car door and grabbed the handle.

“Are you screaming?”

I paused, and glanced back. “What?”

“Are you screaming, Emma?”

The handle slipped from my damp fingers. “No, I’m not screaming.”

He reclined back into his seat. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He stretched his legs out. Non-threatening, except for the look on his face. “Are you sure you’re not screaming inside your head where I can’t hear?”

There was something happening in my head all right. Not screaming. My heart pounded in my temples. “I’m definitely not screaming.”

He smirked and it was as irresistible on him as it was obnoxious. “Then you can be damn sure, Emma, if you’re not screaming, I’m not fucking you.”

About the Author

After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber Bardan finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fueled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

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