Spotlight: I've Been Thinking . . .: Reflections, Prayers, and Meditations for a Meaningful Life by Maria Shriver

A book of reflections for those seeking wisdom, guidance, encouragement, and inspiration on the road to a meaningful life

As a prominent woman juggling many roles, Maria Shriver knows just how surprising, unpredictable, and stressful everyday life can be. 

In this moving and powerful book, she shares inspiring quotes, prayers, and reflections designed to get readers thinking, get them feeling, get them laughing, and help them in their journey to what she calls The Open Field–a place of acceptance, purpose, and passion–a place of joy.

I’ve Been Thinking . . . is ideal for anyone at any point in her life. Whether you feel like you’ve got it all together or like it’s all falling apart–whether you’re taking stock of your life or simply looking to recharge, this is the book you will turn to again and again. Like talking with a close friend, it’s the perfect companion–an exceptional gift for someone looking to move forward in life with hope and grace.

Excerpt

The Power of Gratitude

“Gratitude is a flower that blooms in noble souls.” —Pope Francis

I believe strongly in the power of gratitude. And scientific research backs that up. It shows that making a daily conscious effort to be grateful does in fact make you a happier, more hopeful person.

There are those lucky ones who come by their attitude of gratitude naturally. It seems like they were born happy, optimistic, and grateful. But most of us have to work at having a positive frame of mind. I’ve found that the best way to get that is to have a daily gratitude practice.
So every morning when I open my eyes, and before my feet touch the ground, I thank God for the gift of my life. I give thanks for my health, my family, my friends, and for the country I’m blessed to live in. I’ve found that starting out that way makes for a better day and, in turn, I believe it makes for a better life.

I seek out people who have a gratitude practice. I love talking with them and learning from them. They look at the world through a clear lens. They’re more joyful. When adversity arises, they bounce back faster. They know and feel that they have a good thing going. And they do.
The truth is, you can never be grateful enough. So it’s worth seeking out people who are like this and asking them how they stay that way: their practices, their principles, and how they put those into action.

The power of gratitude can turn a bad day into a good one. It reboots your spirit. It makes you look at your life in a different way. Being thankful can make all the difference in your day.
So start your very own daily gratitude practice. Write down what you’re grateful for, reflect on what you wrote, and carry the gratitude into your day. It’ll make all the difference in the world.

Dear God, thank you for all the times when I am blessed by the kindness of others. You have surrounded me with people who care for me and bless me every day with kind words and actions. Help me to show them the same kindness they have provided. Help me to know how deeply I appreciate them and to know that I treasure them as a gift from you to me. Amen.

Excerpted from I've Been Thinking . . . by Maria Shriver. Copyright © 2018 by Maria Shriver. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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About the Author

Maria Shriver is the mother of four, a Peabody Award-winning and Emmy Award-winning journalist and producer, the author of six New York Times bestselling books and a bestselling coloring book, an NBC News Special Anchor, and founder of The Women’s Alzheimer’s Movement. When she’s not thinking or writing, she can be found hanging with her kids.

Spotlight: Straight Up Irish by Magan Vernon

I need a wife if I want to help save my family’s billion-dollar pub empire. There’s just one problem: I never plan on marrying. So, I need someone who understands that this is just another business deal. I don’t do commitments. And my brother’s executive assistant, Fallon Smith, fits that bill.

Fallon needs help with her grandmother’s expenses, and her pretending to be my fake wife is a way we can make that happen. She’s not my biggest fan, but we can help each other and then go our separate ways. That she’s beautiful and I enjoy spending time with her–doesn’t matter. When all of this is done, she’s heading home to America, and I’ve got a company to run.

A fake wedding and a whole lot of whiskey. What could go wrong?

Excerpt

Connor

The harsh morning light streamed in through the windows as if it were a switch that made the pounding in my head even worse.

The Irish sun I swore was worse than the American one, and so was the alcohol. Nothing in the world compared to Irish whiskey and it had been a while since I’d been back to my hometown of Dublin.

.My phone vibrated against the nightstand and stared at the screen until my eyes adjusted to the light I saw not only the time but that Jack’s assistant was calling me.

“Shit,” I muttered, unlocking my phone and sliding it to my ear.

“Fallon, Mo Gra, tell me your calling with some good news.”I jumped up, searching for something to cover my naked arse and found my clothes from the night before strewn across a hardwood floor.

“Using cutesy Irish pet names for me has never worked in your favor, and it especially isn’t when your brothers are wondering where you are.” Her American accent flowed through the speakers with the clicking of a keyboard loud and clear in the background.

“What’s the fun in that? C’mon, now. We’ve been emailing and having this lovely phone calls for months now. We’re practically best mates,” I said, grabbing my boxers.

“Is everything okay, Connor?” A soft voice with a thicker accent than mine murmured.

I whirled around, covering up my junk and my lucky shamrock tattoos that graced each hip bone. On the bed was a pale redhead with a devious smirk and hair more messed up than a 1980s American metal band. I’d say I shagged that one pretty good, wish I remembered it. Been a while since I’d gotten that knackered and wound up in the bed of a hometown girl.

“Is there someone in the background? Are you seriously hooking up when you have a meeting in ten minutes?”

The girl on the bed’s eyes widened, Fallon’s words booming through the phone.

“Yeah. I thought I set the alarm on my phone and would be on time. But the alarm didn’t go off and now I can’t find my pants. Think I can just walk in wearing my boxers?” My blue eyes searched the floor until I found my crumpled jeans.

“Yeah, it went off twice, and you mumbled for me to snooze it. Is that your wife on the phone? Should I be worried? ” the bed girl said in a scratchy voice, raising her eyebrows.

I shook my head as much as I could and slid on my pants.

If I didn’t get my shit together, the meeting was going to start without me. Why did I need to drink that much last night? While my brothers went home early, I just had to see what I was missing in Dublin by studying and working in America. Better than facing the fact why I was back in the country, I guess.

Funerals are as good of an excuse as any to get knackered.

“It’s my brother’s assistant. Fallon, wanna say hello to this girl who is asking if you’re my wife?” I asked with a smile that caused the girl on the bed’s eyebrows to raise even higher on her head.

Fallon groaned. “Why do I even bother calling you? This feels like Deja Vu from when  you almost missed your flight out of Boston.”

“Ah, but that one didn’t involve a girl. Just whiskey. And I made that flight, thank you very much.” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder, sliding on my shirt.

“Only because I saved you with pre-boarding.”

“ Maybe when you’re done with work; you can come back. Or we can meet up tonight,”  girl on the bed murmured.I combed my fingers through my hair, hoping it didn’t look as bad as hers did.

“Did she seriously ask you to come back? While you’re on the phone with me even?” Fallon’s laughter carried through the phone.

“Not now, Erin,” I said, brushing her hand off my shoulder while I tried to shimmy on my socks, not looking to see the girl’s reaction. If I hurried, I could still make the meeting on time and maybe even find a breath mint or two on someone’s desk on the way there.

“Don’t worry; I’m on my way, so you don’t need to get jealous. You’re the only girl who can bother me at all hours of the night.” I stood up and stepped into my shoes.

“Erin?” the bed girl asked with a huff.

I turned and looked at her steely glare and arms crossed over her bare chest.

“Not Erin?”

“Not even close,” she growled.

Fallon’s laugh carried through the speaker. “Oh, this is classic.”

I frowned even though Fallon couldn’t see it.

“Well, sorry Not Erin, but thanks for the sex I can’t remember. Hope it was better than mediocre for you,” I said with my hand on the door.

Never said I wasn’t an arsehole.

This caused a gasp from both Fallon and the bed girl. I quickly ran out the door, closing it before the thud of something hard hit the wall behind me. Could have been worse, I could have been cold-clocked by a shoe.

“Did you make it out of there alive after that comment?” Fallon asked.

When I stepped outside, I looked around, realizing I was only a few blocks from the office and the pubs I probably stumbled to this girl’s place from. “Ah, and the luck of the Irish is on my side, Mo Gra because I’m not far from the office.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d run to the office after a less than savory encounter with a bird. It’s how my life had been since I started Uni in America and then graduated three years ago.

“You do know this is a will reading, right? Not just you and Jack in a phone conference talking numbers?” she questioned.

“I’m very aware of what this meeting is for,” I grumbled.

I still had at least a few minutes before I was considered past fashionably late and onto acting the maggot. Running down the brick-paved streets of my childhood, I dodged the flower sellers and the older gentlemen who liked to walk for no reason at all.I wanted to come back to Ireland on better terms and not for my Da’s funeral.

Lung disease was one of the top killers in Dublin, and it hit him hard and fast. I didn’t know how bad it was until Fallon called and told me Da was in the hospital. She booked me a flight back home for the next day, but he was already gone before I  even crossed the Atlantic.

“Sorry. That came out wrong.” Voices echoed in the background, and I wondered where she was in the building.

I’d seen the girl’s work photo icon in emails and breezed past her desk a few times, but never really saw her. Funny that she was someone I’d talked to almost as much as my brothers these past six months and I hadn’t formally met her.

“Where are you right now? Are you waiting for me outside the meeting room door? Hoping since Not Erin didn’t get a round two that maybe we can officially meet and hit it off?” I joked and breezed through the wrought iron gates of the Murphy Family Pub headquarters, past the secretary and front lobby, covered in photos of generations of Murphy’s who had run the company.

My family owned a distillery for years and used to brew the whiskey in downtown Dublin. The brand expanded, and my father went into the pub franchise business. Now we had hundreds of pubs all over the world, and the original distillery was currently used for a museum and pub on the first floor with corporate offices on the second.

Mam passed away soon after my youngest brother, Sean, was born. Da raised us all while building his empire and now with his sudden passing, my brothers Jack, Sean, and I were set to inherit the company. This meeting was just a formality to settle the estate, giving us our shares in the business. I figured Jack would take Da’s position as CEO with me as CFO and Sean as president or something if he wanted it.

“Your flirting isn’t cute, Mr. Murphy.”

I stopped at a mirror in one of the hallways, noticing my hair stuck up every which way and I tried to lay it down flat with one hand, holding my phone with the other. “What’s this Mr. Murphy nonsense? We’re practically family, Fal.”

She huffed. “Are you almost here? I’m almost to the conference room, and I don’t want to have to tell your brother you’re still not available.”. I  started jogging, and just as I turned the corner, instead of breezing into the conference room, I ran chest first into a petite blonde who was holding a tray of coffees that had now spilled all down the front of her dress.

“Aw, I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to do a number on ya,” I said, staring at her wide blue eyes, circled by red framed glasses. She looked between me and her dress.

I expected to hear a laugh or some quip from Fallon on my phone, but instead I listened to my voice echoing through the pink dressed girl’s phone.

Recognition dawned on me as my eyes roamed over her from the top of her blonde ponytail down the soaked through dress and cardigan, showing off the curvy frame she hid under the nerdy little ensemble. Her photos and glances at her did not do her justice. She was beautiful in a natural way which made her not need the fancy clothes or too much makeup.

“Fallon. We finally get to meet. I feel like I should hug you. Or maybe undress you. You know get you out of that pink number and into something not stained.” I stepped closer, putting my arms out. I may have said the words jokingly, but the thought of her dropping the dress and taking her against the paneled wall was on the forefront of my mind.

“Are you serious right now? You need to go. You’re going to be late,” she hissed

I glanced at my watch again. Shit, the meeting probably already started. I didn’t have time to sweet talk or other things. Pulling out my wallet from my back pocket, I grabbed a few notes. “Let me at least buy you a new dress and replace the coffees.”

“What? No. Just go. I’ll take care of this.” She narrowed her eyes and slightly shook her head.

“Are you sure?” I raised my eyebrows, still holding the money toward her.

The clock near the conference room chimed, alerting me it was at the top of the hour.

“We can chat more about this later,” I said, putting my money back in my wallet. “Nice officially meeting you, Pinky. Let’s do this again real soon, ” I said with a grin, patting her shoulder before I scooted toward the conference room and shut the door behind me.

Three sets of eyes looked up from the conference table they sat around.

My brothers were in crisp blue suits with their light brown hair perfectly gelled, making me look even more like a fool than I felt with my wrinkled clothes which smelled like sex and whiskey.This wasn’t the way to honor, Da, but at least I was there and I was going to be there for his company, no matter what it took.

“Mornin’,” I said, taking my seat across from the estate solicitor, Thomas O’Malley, who looked like a real-life leprechaun with his short stature, bright red beard, and reading glasses perched on his nose.

“Glad you could grace us with your presence, Connor,” Thomas said, shuffling the papers in his hands.

“Happy to have made it,” I said, folding my hands on the table and smiling, even though my brothers audibly groaned next to me. If there was one thing I learned from Da, it was that you never showed weakness.

“Okay, let’s get started with the reading,” Thomas said, clearing his throat.

Then flipped to a new sheet. “Whereupon my death, my three sons, Jack, Connor, and Sean will  each inherit their equal share of thirty-three and a half-percent of the family franchise upon the day all three of their marriage certificates are certified by a priest and again by my solicitor Thomas O’Malley, six months after the day of their nuptials. If all three of them are not married within a year of my death, none will be able to get controlling interests, and the board may offer each son’s ownership stake to the highest bidder.”

Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Marriage? Thre three of us? Within a year? All of that to get the company? That couldn’t be right. Da never said anything about that. Sure, he was a loyal family man, who never married or even dated after Mam died, but I didn’t think he would do something like this.Especially when the board was a bunch of crotchety old men who smoked too many cigars and were probably half the reason Da got sick in the first place.

My oldest brother Jack leaned forward in his seat. “Thomas. I could be wrong here, but is this stating that each of us has to be married and not just married, but married for six months? And this all has to happen within the year? That can’t be right. Da never even re-married or had a serious girlfriend. He used to say the pub was his only wife after Mam.”

Thomas sighed, pushing his glasses up. “You young men have done a fine job in your positions in the company, but your father also knew you were still sowing your wild oats. He wanted to make sure you settled down a bit, so the company didn’t suffer. This was his way of seeing to that.”

There has to be a clause that can get us out of this, right? I don’t even have a girlfriend, let alone a girl I’d want to marry by the end of the year.” Sean said.

I wanted to ask Sean what he even had to do with this company since he hadn’t taken an interest in anything but rugby. I know Jack had brought up more than once about eventually buying out his portion and now with us all having to be married, or none of us got the company, which put a damper on that one.  Before I could ask any more questions, Thomas cleared his throat.

“Boys, I’d like to say there’s another option, but that’s what it states in the will,” he said, standing up and placing the papers in his briefcase. “You can try and get your own solicitors or a judge to dispute this, but I’ve been doing this for longer than you’ve been alive. Once this will is set and notarized, it’s legally binding.”

“Does the board know about this?” Jack asked.

Thomas nodded solemnly. “Ah, they’re aware of the clause, not all of the details, but some have already made comments about a buyout for a third of the company.”

I clenched my fists without even thinking, my gut twisting at the thought of someone else taking over the business.The one Da had built from the ground up, but Jack and I had worked to keep it a well-oiled machine on both sides of the pond. A bunch of old men with one foot in the grave would just run the franchise into the ground along with all our hard work.

Da put a lot of hard work into the enterprise. What he built. What he wanted our family to have. That wasn’t just going to disappear because of some marriage clause, I couldn’t let it.

“Can’t we just find some girl, see if she wants to get married for a few months, then divorce with a nice little settlement? Isn’t that what they do on those American reality shows for publicity?” Sean asked, staring between all of us.

Thomas shrugged. “I guess there’s nothing in the will that says you can’t, but how do you think the board would take that? Moreover, your Da would probably roll in his grave if he heard you married a girl just to get the company. Your mother was the love of his life and the reason he was able to make this company what it is today. He just wants the same thing for you boys. Not some random fling.”

“I’m sure there are worse things we could do,” Sean muttered, buttoning and unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“If we have nothing else to discuss, then I best be heading back to the office. You’ll call if you need anything and let me know as soon as I get to meet the future Murphy girls,” Thomas said with a tight-lipped smile.

We walked him toward the door, but none of us left the room.

Jack was the first to speak as soon as Thomas rounded the corner and was out of sight. “What the hell are we going to do?”

Sean shook his head. “I don’t know. This wasn’t at all what I was expecting. Hell, I guess I’d better get on a dating app or something.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Jack growled.

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to calm the beast a little, but his nostril’s flared. “Calm down, Jack. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

His dark blue eyes didn’t move from the empty hallway. “This isn’t about deciding where to put a new pub in America or marketing expenditures. This is marriage. This is our company. Our future.”

I nodded solemnly. We all knew what was at stake here and the only way to solve our problems was with a wedding. Something I never even thought I would be thinking about. Now I had no choice. I was going to be a married man by the end of the year, and so were my brothers, no matter what it took.

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About the Author

Magan Vernon has been living off of reader tears since she wrote her first short story in 2004. She now spends her time killing off fictional characters, pretending to plot while she really just watches Netflix, and she tries to do this all while her two young children run amok around her Texas ranch.

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Cover Reveal: The Renovation: A Reverse Harem Novel by Mika Lane

The Renovation: A Reverse Harem Novel
Mika Lane
Publication date: March 11th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

I don’t believe in fairy tales and I don’t waste time wishing for one. I learned long ago that luck smiles on the—well, lucky—and that the rest of us can just go to hell. So when my boyfriend ran off and left me with a bunch of debt, I knew better than to wish for a miracle. But then one came my way, in the form of four—count ’em four—hot, sexy men. But as luck would have it—or wouldn’t have it, in my case—I couldn’t have a single one of them.

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Author Bio:

Writing has been a passion of Mika’s since a young age (her first book was "The Day I Ate the Milkyway"), but erotic romance is now what gives purpose to her days and nights. She lives in magical Northern California with her own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill. A devotee of the intelligent and beautiful, and lover of shiny things, she’s a yogi, hiker, traveler, thinker, observer, and book worm. She has been known to drink cheap champagne and has way too many shoes.

A National Reader's Choice Awards finalist, Mika always deliver a hot, sexy romp, often with imperfect characters, and a promised happily ever after (or at least happy for now).

She LOVES to hear from readers, and can be found at www.mikalane.com, and facebook.com/mikalaneauthor, when she's not dreaming up naughty tales to share.

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Read an excerpt from Wrapped in the Stars by Elena Mikalsen

Struggling with guilt over her sister’s death and the stress of her medical residency, Maya Radelis runs away to Scotland. She gets lost in an alley, where a robin mysteriously appears, leading her to an antique shop where she buys a century-old moonstone engagement ring. After having a dream about the ring’s former owner, Maya quickly realizes that there is a mystery associated with the ring, and it was not an accident that she was led to buy it.

The novel follows Maya from Edinburgh to Paris to Bern, and, finally, to New York as she discovers why she was meant to find the ring and learn about Rebecca, a young Jewish woman practicing medicine in Bern as the Great War unfolded and the Russian Revolution was planned in Switzerland. Maya especially wants to learn about the love story between Rebecca and Mark, a young surgeon from Ukraine, who Rebecca fought to keep safe during this turbulent time in Europe.

While in Paris, Maya meets David Fischer, a fellow American, who helps Maya learn Rebecca’s story. The attraction between David and Maya grows, and they discover that their meeting was not by chance. As Maya returns to New York from her travels, Rebecca’s courage and strength help her face her own troubles.

Excerpt

I sat down on a chair nearby, put my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over me. The smell of wisteria was replaced with fresh rain, and then I smelled something else. Perfume—a very gentle scent of roses. I found myself oddly calm, despite the experience. My heart beat steadily, and my senses were sharp. I expected to feel cold, as in the presence of a ghost, but I continued to feel the warm sunshine.

Images flashed through my mind, too fast to understand, swirling. Then sounds: birds, a man’s voice, children’s voices, crying, a woman’s voice. I took a few deep breaths and willed my mind to still the images. I watched a man, with little round glasses, riding his bike on the path toward me. I knew I was happy to see him. My mind told me I loved him, and I wanted to tell him something very important. I knew it was something very urgent, because my face was wet with tears…

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About the Author

Elena Mikalsen was born in Ukraine and came to New York City as a refugee with her family at age 17. She is somewhat obsessive about travel, but, when at home in San Antonio, can be found browsing through bookstores or antique shops with her family and two adopted pups. When not writing stories, she is a Pediatric Psychologist, working at a Children’s Hospital, helping children cope with chronic medical illness. She actively blogs and gives interviews on issues related to child and adolescent mental health. WRAPPED IN THE STARS is her first work of fiction. She has two other works in progress.

For more information please visit Elena Mikalsen’s website. You can also find her on FacebookTwitter, and Goodreads.

Spotlight: Love and War: Volume One by Charisse Spiers

Love and War: Volume One
Charisse Spiers
(Shadows in the Dark, #2)
Publication date: February 22nd 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Note from the author: This is a Dark Romance. If you do not like dark themes this book may not be for you. Suitable for audiences 18+ due to content.

The f*cking lights. They are all I can remember. Everywhere I turn I see them. They haunt my dreams, and now my reality. She liked the lights. I do remember that. It was part of her life, and in turn a part of mine, until the day I forgot it all.

They say your childhood paves the way to adulthood, and maybe it does. I know mine was lit up in flames. I walked the roads of Hell until I figured out that the only way to survive was to exist under a cloak of darkness—to deal with the devil himself. It was the only way to escape the pain, the torment. But the nightmares are still very real. They’ll never leave me alone. The shadows of solitude follow me wherever I go.

Weapons—they can be anything I need them to be. Unlike people in my life, they are predictable, dependable. Without any effort they can cause so much destruction, but also so much peace. Through the internal chaos, the anger that won’t cease, and the constant noise, everything is silenced with the pull of the trigger.

Ink—I’ve loved it since I can remember. It defines me. It’s my release. When I feel like I’m about to blow I turn to the needle. It is the one high I need. I brand people. It’s what I do. Kross Brannon is the best there is when it comes to tattoos. The success of my company proves it.

But I never teach. Those that work for me learn from someone else. I’m a solo artist. Always have been and always will be…but then I looked up and saw her, standing in my shop, beautiful, tattooed, and her soul screaming for me to reach out. She was a force of nature I couldn’t turn away.

That’s the moment everything started falling into place…

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EXCERPT:

Delta . . .

I group my tips together and fold them in half. I’ll count them later. Right now I just want to take these shoes off my feet. Dancing in stilettos sucks. They were not intended to be worn for extreme activities. Then again, maybe they were. I prefer chucks, high tops . . . Hell, anything flat. These are more Lux’s style.

I’m sweating; burning up, even though I know Chuck keeps it cold in here. Keeps the nipples out, he said, and nipples make the customers happy. I roll my eyes at the memory of that conversation from my first night. I thought he was ‘the shit’ back then. My way out of a shitty, unwanted existence. A way to live on my own. And it was . . . Until I wanted better for myself.

My thighs and calves are burning. I’m ready to go home and shower, to crawl into bed with a movie in the background as I fall asleep, but unfortunately that won’t happen anytime soon for me. I still have another set later.

I walk into my dressing room and shut the door. “Lock it.”

I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice, my hand immediately snaking over my breasts to cover them. Reflexively I lock it without questioning him. His tone is a little . . . harsher than usual, and his irritation is nothing new to those that work for him.

I look at him sitting in my chair, hunched over, legs spread wide with his elbows to his thighs, holding a lighter between them—my lighter, in fact. In a hypnotic rhythm he strikes it, causing the flame to emerge before letting it go. He’s looking at it and not at me, as if he’s trying to cool some sort of fury inside of him. My heart begins to race. I can feel my pulse beating along every passage in my body. My nerves spark like two wires being touched together with opposite charges. My oxygen tries to recede back into my lungs. I force the words out. “Kross . . . What are you doing here?”

He looks up at me, a cold, stone-like demeanor present, emotion absent. The words come out as controlled as he is. “Come here.”

His eyes look different—determined, angry maybe. My feet automatically move toward him. I should stay where I am, but instead, I quickly tread across the floor to where he sits. The second I get to him he stands and grabs my neck so fast I can barely blink between movements. He forces me to sit on top of my vanity, head against the mirror as he comes between my legs. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I grab his wrist as a reflex. “Kross, I’m working.”

He looks down my almost-naked body, his judgment cutting into me like a serrated edged knife. If I didn’t already feel like trash I would with just that look. “I can see that. What happened to the damn bar, Delta?”

He’s seething. Fear sets in. Little to nothing scares me. I’ve worked for him for a while now. I’ve seen him on a daily basis and in many different moods. I’ve never heard this tone before. It’s bordering on psychotic. And his eyes. What’s wrong with his eyes? His grip tightens, but still not enough to hurt me in ways I can’t take or cut off my air. Because even though he’s holding me in a way that most would deem abusive, no bone in my body feels like he would physically hurt me. The only thing my mind can process is the fact that he’s close, and that he’s touching me in a way I’ve wanted him to since I laid eyes on him. He’s looking at me like I’m his, like he’s angry with me. I stare into his eyes, unable to look away even though I can’t read them. “Answer me.”

Author Bio:

I found books when I was going through a hard time in life. They became my means of escape when things got bad. I realized quickly how much I loved to take a backseat to someone else's life and watch the journey unfold. That began my journey with books in November of 2012. I constantly had a book open on my Kindle app. Never in a million years would I have imagined myself as a writer, because I never thought I was creative enough. I'm living proof that things will fall into place when they're meant to be. People will make their way into our lives when we don't expect it, setting the path for what we are meant to do. Never give up on people. Never stop taking a chance on others. Someone took a chance on trusting me with her work when she didn't know me from a stranger on the street and gave me the opportunity of a lifetime as our relationship progressed, which led me to editing and writing as well. This is my dream I never knew I had. As soon as I sat down and gave writing a shot, it was like the floodgates opened. Now, I am lost in a world of fiction in my head, new characters constantly screaming for their stories to be told. Continue to dream and to go for them. No one ever found happiness by sitting on the sidelines. Sometimes we have to take risks and put ourselves out there. Thank you for all of your support, and may there be many books to come. XOXO- C

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Spotlight: Fighting Dirty by J.C. Valentine

What happens when an outlaw biker’s obsession puts him between a beautiful nurse and her vicious stalker?

Ryder

When a brutal attack sent him rolling on a gurney into a beautiful nurse’s life, the chance encounter seemed like a dream come true. She patched him up and gave him a reason to believe in love again, shining light into his dark and dangerous world.

There’s only one problem… She’s on the run from a violent past that’s about to catch up with her in the form of an ex-husband who’s used to getting what he wants—no matter what stands in his way. It might get him killed, but Ryder’s never backed down from a fight, and this is one he’s determined to win.

Tiffany

Starting over isn’t easy. Years of learning new towns, new people, and new jobs have left Tiffany tired, lonely, and ready to give up. Until a hot, sexy, bad-boy biker barreled into her life and she fell…hard. Latching onto the over-protective biker seemed like a good way to escape her daunting past, but life is never that simple.

Club life isn’t what Tiffany imagined it to be, and she soon realizes that her hot new man has a long and wild history that may be more than she bargained for. Between the women and rumors of violence, she finds herself caught between a psychotic ex bent on her destruction and the man who isn’t what she thought him to be. When things quickly begin to unravel, Tiffany doesn’t know who to trust or where to turn.

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About the Author

J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Trilogy. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.

Living in the Northwest, she has three amazing children and far too many pets. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.

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