Spotlight: Always Red by Isabelle Ronin

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The highly anticipated and epic conclusion to the Chasing Red duology!
 
"Red," Caleb whispered. "Do you know how I felt when you left me?"
 
I looked into his eyes. The emotion I saw in them, the intensity, and the tenderness filled up my throat.
 
"I felt ruined. Because, Red, every time you break me apart, you put me back together. And I always come out better than before."
 
"So," he cupped my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Ruin me."

Excerpt

We were back at the beach. It was past midnight, and the place was deserted, as if it had been waiting for us all day.

As if it had been waiting for this moment.

We lay on the sand, on the same blanket he’d brought when he took us here the very first time. It seemed like a long time ago. Before, he would have reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine.

Not this time.

I turned onto my side so I could look at Caleb. His eyes were closed. The breeze blew a lock of his bronze hair against his forehead, and I wanted to brush it back so badly.

“I miss you, Caleb.”

He didn’t respond. His eyes remained closed, but I knew he heard me because I saw his breath catch in his chest.

I had hurt him badly, and he was probably still angry at me. He must hate me, but I would rather have that than a cold shoulder.

I needed to explain. I needed to tell him what I really felt.

I took a deep breath, gathering courage. “All my life I had to work hard to get the things I wanted. To reach the places I needed to be. I had to be strong—stronger than most people. Because I had to be. I shut out everyone. And why not?”

I rolled onto my back and looked up to the dark velvet sky, at the bright half-moon and the stars glittering like diamonds. It was so beautiful, so peaceful with the sound of the lapping waves. But a storm was brewing inside me.

“People are selfish,” I continued. “They always want something from you, and when they get it, they leave. So I never let anyone in. But then…I met you. You made me feel. You made me want things that I never allowed myself to want before. And it scared me. It scared me so much. So I didn’t trust you. I didn’t allow myself to. Every time I felt myself getting close to you, I pulled away.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “Because…because it hurts to hope for the impossible. How can someone like you want to know someone like me? All I have is a suitcase of sad stories and a broken heart. My walls are high and impossible to break down, and I won’t let anyone in. But I felt your warmth…seeping through the cracks. How did you know where to find me?” My voice broke. “No one else ever worked to find me, Caleb. No one else stayed long enough to even try”—I felt a tear slide down my cheek— “until you.”

I sat up, pulling my legs close to my chest and burying my face in my arms. I felt him sit up and move closer to me.

“I didn’t trust what you felt for me,” I admitted. “I was scared. I kept waiting for you to disappoint me. Everyone else did. And I think that…that…somehow there’s something wrong with me. Something missing. That I’m not enough to make you stay, that somehow, someday you’re going to get bored with me and leave.” I sobbed. “All my life, my dad told me it was my fault. That I was the reason for all the bad things…” I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about him. I didn’t even know why I’d mentioned him.

“I wish he was in front of me so I could hurt him,” Caleb said. “More than he hurt you.”

I heard the anger in his voice. He paused for a moment, and I could hear him breathing slowly, trying to calm himself. When he spoke again, his voice had softened.

“Red,” he whispered. “Do you know how I felt when you left me?”

I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. The emotion I saw in them—the intensity and the tenderness—filled my throat.

“I felt ruined. You ruined me. There is anger, but every time I see you, my anger fades away. And there is pain, but what is love without pain? Because, Red, every time you break me apart, you put me back together. And I always come out better than before. So.” He cupped my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Ruin me.”

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Spotlight: Mirror & Thorns: Twisted Fairy Tale Anthology

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A dark fairy tale collection from the twisted pens of: The authors have weaved each one of these enchanting stories with quirky and intriguing characters as well as plots with compelling twists. 

J.M. Ames, Kerry E.B. Black, J.K. Allen, C.L. Bledsoe, Lucy Palmer, Stacy Overby, T.S. Dickerson, Edward Ahern, Melanie Noell Bernard, S.L. Scott, Sarah Nour, Paul Stansbury, Cassidy Taylor, and J. Lee Strickland.

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Read an excerpt from This Baby Business by Heatherly Bell

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Air force pilot Levi Lambert has seen plenty of danger—but his infant daughter might be the death of him. Fortunately, Levi's found the answer to his sleep-deprived prayers: his next-door neighbor! Carly Gilmore is willing to be his nanny…until a small white lie turns their arrangement from business to very personal. The fake engagement was intended to keep Levi from losing custody of his baby girl, but is causing all sorts of new problems. Not only does Carly attract trouble like bees to honey, but there's the little matter of Levi's smokin'-hot attraction to her. The last thing he needs is to fall in love…

Excerpt

He reached across her lap, his warm hand brushing against her thigh, and reached for the soda. “What were you doing out here?”

“I thought I heard a noise.” She had heard a noise, but in reality she’d come out here because the four walls were closing in on her. And maybe because, on some level, she’d hoped that Levi would join her.

He quirked a single eyebrow. Opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“What? I would have dealt with whatever I found out here. I’m not as weak as I look.”

“Didn’t say you were weak.”

“I can take care of myself, I mean. I have a good butcher knife. I don’t need a man.”

He groaned. “Pay no attention to me. That’s the sound I make when I’m replaced by a kitchen utensil.”

“A butcher knife. Big and strong and…sharp.”

His blue gaze slid from her eyes to her lips. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

He’d flustered her, and she fought for the right words. “You know what I mean. I—I don’t need a man to fix my problems. I don’t need to be rescued.”

“Tell me. Is there any reason you need a man?” He grinned, a wicked glint in his gaze.

“I think we already established that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, c’mon. Something tells me you don’t need me to soothe your fragile male ego.”

He snorted. “Ouch.”

She was going from treading water to drowning. “What can I do to make this better?”

He sat beside her, all broody and alpha male testosterone filling the night. His eyes had switched from light and humorous to a dark and heated gaze that had her resolve melting like a chocolate bar left in a hot car. God, she did need him. Now. Not to slay her dragons but to remind her she was alive. A woman.

He stood and crooked his finger.

Oh, boy. He looked so incredibly sexy. A sliver of moonlight glinted in his blond hair. He had that tousled natural look. So…inviting.

She didn’t know what she was—what they were—doing. Still, her feet took her in his direction as if they were the ones making all the decisions now.

She’d only been in Levi’s house once and even then briefly, so now she took it in. A similar floor plan to her own. A brown leather couch dominated the great room, and even though touches of a little girl were everywhere Carly cast her gaze, the overall impression was of one hundred percent American male. The plasma TV was large and in the center of the living room. She noticed a Dallas Cowboys throw on a rocking chair and decided she’d have to forgive him for that.

He was smiling when she turned to him. “Meet with your approval?”

“That’s a big TV.”

He lifted a solid shoulder. “I’m from Texas. We do big…everything.”

While she let that simple statement register, one of his arms reached for her and tugged her in close. And that was the thing about Levi. She imagined that all children and dogs and women everywhere would melt in his arms. He was utterly male and safe. Such a protector. Warm, hard and…safe, somehow.

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About Heatherly Bell

Heatherly Bell drinks large amounts of coffee, craves cupcakes, and occasionally wears real pants. She lives in northern California with her family.

Read an excerpt from Ten Year Dance by Ara Grigorian

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Best friends since sixth grade. A ten-year high school reunion. A truth they’ve danced around for a decade.

Unlucky-in-love Sophie Perez knows her divorce won’t be easy—but she doesn’t expect it to be dangerous. So when things get ugly, she agrees to move in with Pete Nicos, her commitment-phobic best friend since childhood. Pete has always been there for Sophie, just like she’s been there for him. At first, taking her in seems like the best option, but soon her tantalizing proximity blurs the lines of friendship. With their high school reunion on the horizon will they find closure, forgiveness, and new beginnings?

Ten Year Dance is a contemporary love story, rich with engaging and relatable characters trying to find themselves and each other. Ara Grigorian’s latest will stay with you long after you turn the final page.

Excerpt

Two

— Pete —

Today

THE SHERIFF DELIVERED the divorce papers. It's done.

My heart slams against my ribs. Did she finally leave that toxic relationship for good? I swerve to the curb to read Sophie's text again. Maybe I read it wrong. Maybe my wishful mind added words that aren't there.

The sheriff delivered the divorce papers. It's done.

Halle-freakin-lujah! I'm elated for her, but also worried. That imbalanced jerk is capable of anything.

I'm proud of you! I reply.

I'm not proud of myself… I hope you're on your way, she writes. Don't be late.

I pull away from the curb and accelerate toward the country club. She shouldn't be left alone now that Seth knows she's serious.

A few minutes later I park next to her black-on-black Mini. I glance up. Sophie is running laps around the court now. Still the All-American athlete she was in school. Which leads to one conclusion—she's going to hurt me. Again. I can practically feel the pain.

Watching her now, I can't help but beam. She's free.

I slide out of the car and grab the tennis racquet from my trunk. I don't know why I let her talk me into these things. After sixteen years you'd think I'd be able to say no to her once.

I stroll onto the court just as Sophie rounds the corner and heads toward me. "Hey, Soph."

She slows down as she reaches me. Her golden-cinnamon eyes latch onto mine. The breeze lifts her red hair. "You're late, Pete. Again."

"I am an advocate for delaying pain and humiliation."

She grins and her dimples appear, reminding me why I never say no to her. She's awesome. I chose well back in sixth grade. My best friend then, my best friend now.

"Dork." She punches my arm.

I hold her arm gently. "Soph, are you okay?"

She shrugs. "I think so.”

We stare at each other for a few moments. "You did the right thing."

She studies me. "I've never quit before. Ever." The last word catches in her throat.

I fold her into my chest. "You did not quit. You tried. For much longer than you should have."

Her taught body softens.

"Now what?" I ask.

"Learn how to breathe again. Care for myself. Begin to choose me first."

I kiss the top of her head. "Welcome to the singles club," I whisper.

She pulls back. "You broke up with Natalie?"

"No, but you know what I mean."

She steps away, shaking her head. "It's this cavalier attitude of yours about relationships that'll leave you alone and unloved." She walks toward her tennis bag.

I decide not to remind her where her idealistic notions of love have left her. "You love me," I say. "Who else do I need?"

"Yes, I love both you and my pit bull," she says as she draws her blood-red racquet out of the bag and executes practice swings. "But in my dog's case"—she eyes me—"I had him fixed."

My leg muscles spasm and my hand instinctively reaches down to protect my vitals. "You're sick… And dangerous."

She glances at me with her divine smile. "And you're still the same snot-nosed twelve-year-old I met in sixth grade. C'mon, let's play."

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About the Author

Armenian by heritage, born in Iran, lived in Barcelona, and escaped New York until he found his home in Los Angeles, Ara’s first eleven years were both busy and confusing. The fruit salad of languages would slow down his genetically encoded need to tell stories. Until then, an alter ego would be required…
 
He received an engineering degree from California State University Northridge and earned his MBA from the University of Southern California. Today, he is a technology executive in the entertainment industry. True to the Hollywood life, Ara wrote for a children’s television pilot that could have made him rich (but didn’t) and nearly sold a video game to a major publisher (who closed shop days later).
 
But something was amiss until his wife read him the riot act. “Will you stop talking about wanting to be a writer and just do it?” So with her support (and mandate), and their two boys serving as his muse, he wrote stories.
 
Fascinated by the human species, Ara writes about choices, relationships, and second chances. Always a sucker for a hopeful ending, he writes contemporary romance stories. He is an alumnus of both the Santa Barbara Writers Conference and Southern California Writers’ Conference (where he also serves as a workshop leader). Ara is an active member of the Romance Writers of America and its Los Angeles chapter.
 
Ara is represented by Stacey Donaghy.

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Spotlight: Secrets Hidden In the Glass

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Stained glass artist Callie Davis is in desperate need of a vacation. Burnt out and on the edge of a nervous breakdown, she’s fleeing the pressures of her career and is taking refuge on Massachusetts’ tiny Carter Island. Callie yearns for long, lazy days and pretty walks on the beach—blessed solitude and an escape from the complications of her life. Then she bumps into gorgeous Nate Carter and everything changes.

Sheriff Nathan Carter couldn’t be happier now that the height of the summer season has finally come and gone. After four endless months, tourists have packed their bags and headed for the mainland. The quiet days of autumn are about to befall the town—the way Nate and his fellow Sandersonians like it best.

But nothing ends up quite the way Nate expects when he meets the beautiful blonde with the big blue eyes. Callie’s pretty smiles hide secrets—deep, dark mysteries that could cost them both their lives if they continue digging into the past and cross a killer’s path.

Exclusive Excerpt

They started walking again, and a wave rushed up, washing over their feet.

Callie gasped and stepped farther away. “Oh, my God, that’s cold.”

Like ice water, but Nate shrugged. “It’s not so bad.”

She looked at him as if he were crazy. “It’s freezing.”

“It usually is for most mainlanders—blood’s too thin.”

She stopped in her tracks and pushed her sunglasses onto her head, rewarding him with a look at her big baby blues. “Are you suggesting that mainlanders are wimps?”

“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything…” He shrugged again, struggling not to smile. “But you’re the one who can’t get your feet wet.”

She splashed her foot in the surf as the next wave started receding.

He chuckled, thrilled that Callie seemed willing to play. “That’s not showing me much.”

She walked closer to the water, adding both feet this time.

He came up next to her and took her hand, pulling her toward the actual Atlantic. “In up to your knees for three good waves.”

She hesitated.

He sent her a wry smile. “See? Wimp.”

She grinned. “All right. Three good waves.”

“You’re on.” He walked out with her, clenching his jaw against the bone-numbing cold, fighting the urge to swear.

She gasped, then squealed as the first wave rushed past their calves.

“We’ll count that as one,” he yelled over the pounding water, still walking farther out with her. “And here comes the next.” He braced himself, gripping her hand tighter as the current came in with a powerful rush and nailed them thigh-level.

Callie screamed as she laughed and made a move to head to shore.

He laughed too, pulling her back and bringing her closer to him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s too cold,” she screeched.

“I don’t think so, mainlander.” He hooked his arm around her midsection and held her in front of him as the next wave came in and sent a steamroll of water crashing into their waists.

She screamed again, gripping his forearm as if her life depended on it, and threw her head back on a long peel of laughter.

He let loose his own deep belly laugh, loving the way she sounded—that he could smell her flowery shampoo as she rested her body against his. That they were having fun.

“Nate,” she fought to say. “Let’s get out of here.”

He took her hand and they ran as best they could toward shore.

She stumbled as they made their way to the ankle-deep water. “Cramp. My toes are cramping.”

He moved to take her weight and carried her more than walked with her to the loose, warm sand free from the surf. “Bend your foot forward until it passes,” he said, slightly out of breath.

She did as he told her.

“Better?”

She nodded her head as her teeth chattered and goosebumps puckered her skin.

“Works every time.”

“Your toes cramp too?”

“Hell, yeah. That water’s like an ice bath. I never go in without a wetsuit.”

Her eyes went huge as she gaped at him. “What are you talking about? What happened to your thick, native Sandersonian blood?”

He chuckled, enjoying the gorgeous woman who’d forgotten she was shy. “My blood’s probably right on par with yours. I just wanted to get you out there.”

She laughed and swatted at him. “That’s a dirty trick.”

“Maybe.” It concerned him a little that her lips were turning a light shade of blue. He rubbed his hands up and down her soft, smooth arms. “Come up to the house. I’ll get you a towel and you can warm up by the fire and have a beer.”

She looked over her shoulder toward the noise and small crowd of people. “That sounds fun, but I should probably head home.”

He struggled with a wave of disappointment. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, holding his gaze as they stood inches apart. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” he repeated, knowing the moment they’d shared was over. He gave her a final rub and stepped back. “It’s a couple miles to the cottage. You’re good to get there?”

“Yeah. Definitely.” She bounced gently from foot to foot in her attempt to keep warm. “Thanks for the walk. I can now say I’ve partaken in my very own version of a polar plunge.”

He grinned. “I think you have to jump in during the winter for it to count as a polar plunge.”

A look of horror filled her eyes. “That’s never happening.”

He chuckled.

She smiled again. “Thanks, Nate.”

He nodded. “I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”

“Okay.” She walked backward for a few steps, waved, then turned and ran. She swooped down for her shoes and headed toward one of the bike racks several hundred feet in the distance.

He started back to the house in no hurry to get there, even though his shorts were soggy and he was freezing his ass off. His teeth started chattering and he smiled. As far as he was concerned, every minute with Callie was worth his current discomfort now.

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About the Author:

International bestselling author Cate Beauman is known for her full-length, action-packed romantic suspense series, The Bodyguards of L.A. County. Her novels have been nominated for the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award, National Indie Excellence Award, Golden Quill Award, Writers Touch Award, and have been named Readers Favorite Five Star books. In 2015, JUSTICE FOR ABBY was selected as the Readers' Favorite International Book Award Gold Medalist, while SAVING SOPHIE took the Silver Medal.

Connect with Cate:  Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Website

Read an excerpt from Falling Forward by Dawn Robertson

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What do you do when you hate your life and your joy is gone?

Never the sister with the best of luck, Luna Rockwell gave up on her own happiness a long time ago. She's lost herself in a never-ending cycle of work, in a career she’s come to loathe.

When a once in a lifetime opportunity comes along, on the second worst day of her life, it gives her a chance most women can only dream about. Searching for love in a new city, Luna finds herself in a love-triangle she never expected.

Will Luna find love once and for all, or is she destined to be the cat-lady aunt for the rest of her life?

Excerpt

Do you know what the worst part of being single is? The lack of a sex life. I love sex. I love the intimacy. I love the pleasure and sometimes the pain. I love everything about sharing something so personal with another human being. Now my sex life includes a plethora of sex toys I’ve accumulated over the years. Lelo’s, a Magic Wand, bullets, you name it… I got it. 

But, it doesn’t replace the longing I have for just getting fucked sometimes. It’s been about six months since I hooked up with a guy I met on Tinder. He was cute, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was all ruined for me. There is something about a man of intelligence that gets me, and if he is smart enough, sometimes the looks don’t even matter. If I can’t hold a conversation with you about current events, politics, or just what you do for work… the chances we are going to become more than sex, is slim to none. He did the job for an itch I had to scratch, but when it was all said and done, I ghosted him. Blocked his cell number, and never looked back.

I know that is kind of a dude thing to do, but I was only after one thing and I got it. I knew there was no happily ever after with him, and I wasn’t going to lead him on. Shit, I can’t even remember his name now. Keith? Ken? Kevin? I think it was Keith. Not that it matters anyway.

There are definitely nights that I long for someone to climb into bed with me and just show me the love that I insist I don’t need. Over the last week, I’ve really had to isolate myself because I have a big fucking mouth. If it was up to me, I would’ve told my sisters about my big win. Rob insisted no one is to know until the prize has been claimed and paid, which should be finished by tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ve started looking at cities to relocate to. I’m done with Orlando, and while I will always be Orlando Strong, I need a change. Everywhere I go around this city, I can see the ghosts of my parents. The memories I shared with them growing up, and it’s not letting me get past everything that has happened. It’s making my whole grief process a lot harder than it needs to be.

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About the Author

Three times best selling author Dawn Robertson was born and raised in Connecticut before relocating to Florida in 2013. The same year first novel, Hers debuted as an Amazon Best Seller. Replicating that success with two additional novels in the following years.

The Indie publishing world has grown to love her raw writing style depicting strong women in real life situations, topping the charts in erotica, romance, and romance-suspense. Robertson has even insinuated that the female characters in her book mirror her real life. But, that I'll leave to speculation.

When Dawn Robertson is not writing she is a full-time Real Estate professional in Florida, and mother of three amazing children.

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