Spotlight: Under Cover by Mila Crawford and Aria Cole

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Synopsis 

Brody Romano, the lead detective of his small-town police force, has one passion. His job. Because of that dedication, his love life has been non-existent.

And then she came into his life.

His years of working tough cases and long hours at the station could never prepare him for a sassy, curvy, questionably crazy, and down-right gorgeous woman that’s desperate for his help--and willing to do anything to get it.

And now he can’t stop picturing all kinds of filthy ways she could repay him.

When Phoebe Wells shows up at the local precinct to file a missing persons report, she’s not prepared for the shade Detective Romano throws her way...or the fact that it drives her wild.

Desperate for the detective’s expertise, Phoebe will do anything necessary to get him to see things her way.

With every encounter, Brody and Phoebe find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other. With the heat rising and the promise of crossing the line in their future, they can no longer ignore the sizzling chemistry that pulses like a livewire between them.

But maybe that’s just the thing they both desperately want?

Warning: From love to hate to love again, Detective Brody and Phoebe banter like they were born that way, baby. Suit up for a laugh-out-loud romp through small-town crazy catastrophes with a serious dose of sweltering steam.

Excerpt 

“You’ve got to get your own place, little bro.” I stood in my kitchen, taking in my still dripping wet brother.

“Funny, you say that now.” Connor gestured to Phoebe, spoonful of Connor’s favorite sugary cereal at her lips. Hell, if I hadn’t been awakened by her shriek and my nudist-ass brother, she’d be eating my bacon and eggs and waffles right now. “Mama is gonna love this, by the way. She’s gonna eat this shit up!”

“What?” Phoebe asked innocently.

“That Brody finally, finally brought a girl home!”

“This isn’t what it looks like, not exactly.” I glanced at Phoebe and then back to my brother. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure this is exactly what it looks like.” Connor had his phone out and was tapping away a message to someone, presumably our mom.

“Connor!” I roared, lunging for the phone.

“Guys, guys!” Connor threw his arms out. “Cuddle up close. The entire family’s gonna want photo evidence.”

He snapped a picture and then dodged out of the kitchen.

“Fuck, he’s not gonna make this easy.”

Phoebe held a hand over her mouth, hiding her quiet giggles.

“First time, huh?”

I shrugged, nailing her with my eyes. “I’m a lot of things, but liar isn’t one of them.”

She hummed, eyes twinkling up at me.

Hell, I wanted to kiss her, really fucking kiss her in a way I didn’t think she’d ever been kissed.

Phoebe stood then, crossing the kitchen to deposit her empty bowl into the sink.

I closed the distance between us, acting on instinct and anxious to feel her against me. I closed her in my arms, placing a kiss on her forehead. “It was torture watching you sleep all night and not being able to touch you.”

She grinned, fingertips tightening at my waist. “That doesn’t sound creepy at all, Dick.”

I grinned, enjoying the way her tender body felt melded to mine. She made me hot in places I’d never really much thought about before now. Something about the need to protect her overpowered all my other senses.

“Honestly, I spent part of the night monitoring that app on your phone to see if there was any activity at your house.” I traced my thumbs across her cheekbones, delighting in the way she came alive like a hot wire under my fingers. “There wasn’t. But also, Connor’s right.” I cradled her face in my palm. “My mom is going to love you. Another woman she can bust my balls with.

“And I can’t think of any better to introduce to my mother.” I kissed Phoebe with slow and aching precision, sucking at the tip of her tongue softly. “Do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner at my mom’s house, Phoebe Wells?”

A slow clap carried across the kitchen.

“Connor!”

“Didn’t know you had it in you, bro.” He patted me on the back, wide grin enough to make my blood boil. “I got it all on camera. Mama is gonna have names for those grandbabies picked out by the time you get to dinner.”

“You fucker,” I gritted, Phoebe only cracking into laughter in my arms.

“So what’s it gonna be, Phoebe?” Connor pushed his phone in close, video camera rolling again. “Are you checking yes or no? Inquiring minds are dying to know—”

I swiped his phone out of his hand and flipped it off.

“Maybe I’m not the only crazy one. I would love to meet your mama, Dick.”

Connor’s eyes lit up, slapping me on the back again and swiping his phone. “Congratulations, bro. One step closer to second base. Proud of you.”

“Hey, Phoebe, why do you call him Dick?” Connor asked, popping a few dry pieces of cereal into his mouth. The question seemed to make Phoebe smile with a hint of amusement twinkling in her eyes.

“’Cause the first time I met him, he was a real asshole,” she said as she looked up at me.

“Yeah, that totally makes sense,” Connor agreed.

“You really need to start looking at rentals.”

“Sure thing. Gotta make way for all those nieces and nephews I’ll soon have.” He was whistling as he walked away.

“I apologize. He’s definitely the wild one in our family.”

“He seems sweet.” Phoebe shrugged, relaxing against me.

“I don’t know about that. So…my shift at the station starts in an hour, but I can be a little late if it means a morning make out session with the prettiest girl I know.”

Her blush bloomed crimson, creeping its way down her neck and disappearing into the cleavage of her V-neck. I kissed her again, hands roaming her waist as we settled against each other, lingering like teenagers making out for the first time. I guess we sort of were.

Her hot little fingers gripped at the cotton of my shirt, sending my stomach into tightly wound knots, imagining the way she might squirm against the sheets of my bed when I sank into her body for the first time.

My cock throbbed, irritation settling in my balls like barbed wire.

“Whaddya say to coffee before work?” I backed away, needing a breath of air to control myself around her.

She nodded, eyes still hovering on mine.

“Aw, don’t do that to me, Phoebe.”

“What?”

I nipped at her ear and replied, “Look at me like you’re ready for me to make love to you slow and deep.” I sucked at her neck, leaving the faintest bruise. “Like you’re desperate for me to make you cum on my tongue.”

She licked her lips, eyes wide and glued to mine.

“Whatever we do, you’ve gotta go get some more clothes on, or I’ll violate every gentleman’s code I aim to live by.”

She nodded, huffing softly, “Okay.”

She ducked out from under the cage of my arms, and I missed the feel of her body against mine instantly. I grabbed her hand, spinning her back into my arms. “But first, just one more kiss.”

And then I bent her over and kissed her in the way a man should a woman.

Like I might die, I was so starved for her touch.

Soft little moans panted past her lips that made my balls tingle.

“Heaven help me with you, Phoebe Wells.”

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About the Authors

Mila Crawford

Mila Crawford is a book lover and has been around them one way or another her whole life. She is a fan of happily ever afters, sassy heroines, over the top alphas, and most of all safe reads.

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Aria Cole 

Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.

For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
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Spotlight: Silent Music by Aisling Magic

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About Silent Music: 

Brought together by passion;
Separated by destiny.

She’s his muse.
His love.
His inspiration.
And he refuses to let her go.

For nearly two years, Kai Eastwood has watched Phoenix Banks lost in a state of coma.
Singing the songs they wrote.
Remembering the moments they spent together.
Missing the kisses they shared.
Holding hope.

But how long can hope be held when, with each new day, Phoenix slips farther away?

Maybe this time
When the music fades,
And the silence invades,
Their song will begin.

Excerpt

I needed to complete that literature paper if I wanted to get at least a C on it, so I made my way to the library and hoped to get some work done. Dropping my bag, I took out my notepad and a pen and claimed a seat. A few minutes into the book, someone slipped a note in front of me.

I saw a girl. Enthralled,

This heart wondered all night long.

All night long.

What is she called?

The words brought a smile to my lips, and I lifted my head to look at the person who wrote them—gray eyes. My breath faltered as his smile grew bigger. The guy from the park!

“Hi,” I whispered.

Instead of replying, he rolled his eyes and pointed at the note he handed me. I raised my brows—what was that supposed to mean? Looking heavenwards, he shook his head and whispered, “Answer back.”

Damn, I could write lyrics, but when I was under pressure like this, absolutely nothing would come out. I scribbled something on the back of the paper and turned it toward him.

Phoenix,

The one who burns to rise from the ashes.

And what’s yours,

If I may ask?

His forehead creased, probably wondering what kind of odd name this was, but then his gray eyes softened, and a smile appeared on his face. He took the pen between his fingers and tapped it on his cheek, thinking. After a few seconds, he wrote something on his notepad and showed it to me.

Kai …

Who likes birds that fly,

Girls with green eyes,

Blueberry pies

And making the girl before me smile.

I bit back a smile and wrote back.

Nice name.

I like it.

He read what I wrote, and looked up. Fixing his gaze on me, he bit his lower lip—Oh boy—and scribbled something.

And I like you …

As soon as I read what he wrote, a smile formed on my lips. I was not one to blush, but no guy had been upfront with me before.  

Thank you …

But I need to know you before I can say whether I like you or not.

I showed him what I wrote and the sides of his eyes crinkled. He landed those grays on me again, but this time they lingered a moment longer. He wrote something and turned the notepad to me.

Then go on a date with me?

Dumbfounded, I stared at what he wrote and tried to process his words. I saw this guy a few days ago, and we didn’t talk. He just completed one line for me—and now he was flirting—but a part of me loved this attention. What do I do?

Why do you think I should go on a date with you?

He read what I wrote and raised one eyebrow. Long fingers threaded through his brown hair, messing it up as he thought about his next words. 

Because I’m a fucking sexy beast.

Laughter tried to escape me, but I held it in, reminding myself that we were in a library.

But what if you’re a sexy beast who’s a bad kisser?

His eyes scrolled over what I wrote, and his features shifted, suddenly becoming serious. He pushed away the lock of hair that fell into his line of vision, and pasted a devil-like smirk on his face.

Babes, when I kiss you, you’ll breathe me, you’ll forget this stupid world, and you’ll catch fire. That’s a promise!

Who was this guy? 

Whoever he was, he was damn tempting.

If I catch fire, you get yourself a date.

He read my words and wrote his.

Come.

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About Aisling Magic: 

Aisling Magic is a twenty-something author who can either be found writing about people falling in love or has her nose buried in a book well past her bedtime. She enjoys chocolate, cello music, rainy nights, long drives, traveling the world, and Chris Hemsworth.

About her books: She writes romance stories with a hint of humor. Her heroines may not always be sexy, but are strong, her heroes may not always be the alpha but are dedicated and the families in her stories may not always be related by blood but are all bonded by heart. Aisling likes to pretend she’s the most badass character in her novels but in the real world, she doesn’t even go to the toilet at night without lighting up the house.


Connect with Aisling: 

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Spotlight: Promise of Darkness by Bec McMaster

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About Promise of Darkness:

Princess. Tribute. Sacrifice. Is she the one prophesied to unite two warring Fae courts? Or the one bound to destroy them?

In a realm ruled by magic, the ruthless Queen of Thorns is determined to destroy her nemesis, the cursed Prince of Evernight.

With war brewing between the bitter enemies, the prince forces Queen Adaia to uphold an ancient treaty: she will send one of her daughters to his court as a political hostage for three months.

The queen insists it’s the perfect opportunity for Princess Iskvien to end the war before it begins. But one look into Thiago’s smoldering eyes and Vi knows she’s no assassin.

The more secrets she uncovers about the prince and his court, the more she begins to question her mother’s motives.

Who is the true enemy? The dark prince who threatens her heart? Or the ruthless queen who will stop at nothing to destroy him?

And when the curse threatens to shatter both courts, is her heart strong enough to break it?

A fairytale twist inspired by the Hades and Persephone myth.

Excerpt

The tension in the prince’s shoulders softens as I press my back into the stone of the arch, turning my entire body toward him. “Do you think I’d stand in an open window with my enemy behind me if I wasn’t bedazzled by his pretty eyes?”

“I thought we were past the ‘enemies’ part of this?”

“I’m still considering the notion. I don’t know what comes after ‘enemies.’”

“That’s easy.” His voice grows rough. “We kiss. We argue. We fall into bed.”

My cheeks heat. I’d wondered if he’d mention that. 

Thiago brings his hand to my cheek, brushing his knuckles against the smooth skin there. “But you’re the one who makes that decision. I won’t steal into your bed, Vi. You’re the one who’s going to have to do that.” He gives a sly smile. “Though for every day you make me wait, I’ll repay you with an hour of sensual torture.”

Help. 

I stare at him breathlessly. “Doesn’t that behoove me to make you wait longer?”

Thiago leans closer, stealing a soft kiss from my lips. “That depends.” He takes a step back, finally giving me some space to breathe. “On whether your willpower is stronger than temptation.”

It’s not.  

I know it’s not. 

I want to throw up the white flag of surrender right here, to taste more of that kiss he barely gave me. 

And some part of it must show on my face, because he draws back and laughs. “Willpower, Vi.”

It’s a smoky sound that curls inside me, as though he’s somehow infected me. 

“I’m trying to remember why this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, it’s not. It’s a very, very good idea,” he croons. “But we’re supposed to arrive in Stormhaven within the hour, and an hour’s not long enough to do any of what I have planned.”

I close my eyes. Images dance there, of the pair of us tangled together on heated sheets. “That isn’t helping.”

Thiago chuckles under his breath. “It wasn’t supposed to. Come. Kyrian will be waiting for us.”

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About the Author

I'm a writer. Dreamer. Travel Addict. And enthusiastic-if-not-perfect baker. I'll honestly admit that I don't always follow the recipe, be it cooking, or writing romances. If I'm not sitting in front of the computer, I'm probably plotting my next world trip. Or eating chocolate. Sometimes I run. Because...chocolate. I grew up on a steady diet of 80's fantasy movies like Ladyhawke, Labyrinth and The Princess Bride, and love creating epic, fantasy-based worlds with heroes and heroines who must defeat all the odds to have their HEA. I live in a country town in Australia, with my very own beta hero, Byron; Kobe, a dog who will eat anything (even used teabags); and demanding chickens, Siggy and Lagertha.

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Spotlight: Mother Knows Best: A Novel of Suspense by Kira Peikoff

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One father. Two mothers. One genetically engineered baby.

In Kira Peikoff’s domestic thriller, MOTHER KNOWS BEST (Crooked Lane Books: September 10, 2019), a heartbroken mother is certain having a healthy child is more important than the controversial process it takes to create one. Bioethics battles human longing in this story of the medically possible versus the moral.

Three years after her son died from a genetic defect he inherited from her, Claire Abrams is desperate for another baby. And she knows a secret. A trailblazing fertility specialist has developed a procedure to combine healthy DNA from two different women to form one healthy egg. Claire’s husband, Ethan, a member of the President’s Bioethics Committee, would never agree to genetic engineering. But he can’t be outraged if he doesn’t know.

Dr. Rob Nash and his brilliant assistant, Jillian Hendricks, have engineered a way to implant healthy genes from one egg into the shell of another. Claire is the perfect human to test this on—she’ll risk anything to have a healthy baby. Only the three of them will know about this illegal procedure. But when the silence is broken, someone will pay the price.

When federal agents arrest Rob and Jillian, Claire must run. But where? The entire country is searching for the pregnant woman carrying the FrankenBaby. When the trial begins, Jillian is the only one who appears in court and the only one sentenced to prison. Her life, and her bright future, is over. Biding her time from behind bars, she makes plans and waits.

Eleven-year-old Abby Burke is just an ordinary girl living in a small town with her stay-at-home mom and carpenter dad, leading a normal life.  But when a school genetics project reveals that Abby shares DNA with a relative she knows nothing about, their world explodes.

Who is Abby Burke? And who is this stranger threatening to destroy her family? It’s Michael Crichton meets Gillian Flynn in this technological heart-stopper that asks how far a mother should go to keep her child safe.

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About the Author

KIRA PEIKOFF is the author of Living Proof, No Time to Die, and Die Again Tomorrow. She has a degree in journalism from New York University and a master's in bioethics from Columbia University. She is the editor-in-chief of leapsmag.com, a digital magazine about innovation and ethics in the life sciences. She has also contributed articles to The New York Times, Newsweek, Popular Mechanics, Nautilus, Slate, Cosmopolitan.com, and other outlets. Peikoff is a proud member of The Authors Guild, International Thriller Writers, PEN America, and Mystery Writers of America. Visit her online at www.kirapeikoff.com.

Spotlight: A Lady Never Tells by Lynn Winchester

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Richard Downing may be a viscount of impeccable character, but he’s bored beyond belief of dancing at balls, faking smiles, and making dull conversation. So when he stumbles upon a house maid with defiance in her striking blue eyes and a dagger hidden in her skirts…well, color him intrigued.

Raised with a rather…peculiar upbringing, Lady Victoria Daring is full of secrets and surprises. As part of His Majesty’s personal homeland spy network and as a master of disguises, Vic is charged with infiltrating high society to uncover the enemies hiding in plain sight.

But Richard is the first man to see through her disguises–and infiltrate deep into her heart. Too bad his family is at the top of her list of suspects…

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About the Author

Lynn Winchester is the pseudonym of a hardworking California-born conservative, now living in the wilds of Northeast Pennsylvania. Lynn has been writing fiction since the 5th grade, and enjoys creating worlds, characters, and stories for her readers.

When Lynn isn’t writing she is running a successful editing business, reading whatever she can get her hands on, raising her four children, making sure her husband is happy, and binge-watching shows on Netflix.

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Spotlight: The Queen of Warriors by Zenobia Neil

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Alexandra of Sparta vowed her sword and her heart to the goddess Artemis. And the goddess blessed her. But no warrior lives at peace, and soon, Alexandra loses her title, her troops, and all she holds dear, including the man who holds her heart.

Cursed by a Babylonian witch, she is forced to return to a city she once conquered to make amends, but is captured by the powerful Persian rebel, Artaxerxes. As his prisoner, she awaits judgment for her crimes. But Artaxerxes is not what he seems. With death approaching, Alexandra must face her violent past and discover the truth of her captor’s identity before it’s too late.

Excerpt

“So, Aristos, you come here as my willing slave?”

            “Yes,” he said, though he did not seem sure.

            “Well, go on then. Let me see what’s under your clothes.”

            He blushed but did not hesitate to remove his tunic, pulling it quickly over his head and folding it. He placed it gingerly on the carpet near his feet. She admired his strong chest and the well-defined muscles in his arms. But to her dismay, his arms were bare, and he wore only one golden bracelet.

            “What happened to your armlets? They were quite becoming on you.”

            He reddened more than when she had asked him to undress. She suspected a secret had been discovered.

            “I sold them, my queen.”

            “Why? Weren’t you taken care of?”

            “Yes, as well as could be expected.”

            “What did you sell them for?”

       He was silent, clearly not wanting to tell her and unable to lie. “Scrolls.”

“What scrolls did you trade your armlets for?” When he hesitated, she was even more intrigued. Pornography? Zoroastrian propaganda? There were scrolls circulating thinly veiled as fables, but they had a clear message to kill all Greeks and to return the satrapies to the hereditary rulers who had held them before Alexander. It seemed these would appeal to a boy like Aristos.

            “I bought all the scrolls of note I could find. I wanted to get the ones I had studied in Rhagae before…before you came. My favorite ones are the biography of Alexander by Ptolemy the First and The Iliad.”

            “In Greek?” she asked, surprised.

            “I prefer to read scrolls in the language they were originally written in.”

            “Alexander of Macedon? I would have thought you hated him.”

            “I should,” he said. “Many call him the Accursed and despise him, but my father taught me to learn from our enemies.” He stopped abruptly. “Forgive me. I meant only—”

            “The truth,” she said, amused. “Why don’t you hate him?”

            “He did what had never been done before.” He gazed at her a moment too long. “One cannot help but admire someone who can do that.”

            Her blood surged at his words and the way his eyes held her. “You flatter me, Aristos. I’m not sure if I believe you.”

            “No, you misunderstand if you think I flatter you—if you think I am a flatterer, you are mistaken.”

            She took her hand off him. His cheeks reddened, but he held her gaze.

            “I meant only that for me, truth is paramount. I admire him, as I admire you for what you have done. But I say it because it is true, not because I am your slave and will say anything to be in your good graces—my queen.” He lowered his gaze as if he expected her to beat him.

She was amazed by his daring and was again struck by his integrity. “You say you never lie?”

            “Yes. My people believe the light of truth is the only way to win over darkness.”

            “Then let’s hope you have no secrets you wish to keep from me.” She stroked the strong muscles on his chest, his nipples reminding her of honeyed wine. She caressed his flat belly, trailing her finger over the little black hairs that led from his navel down into the waist of his trousers. “So, Aristos, did those stories keep your nights warm?”

            “Yes, my queen. They helped me through many nights”—he gazed down at her hand, pale against his abdomen—“of loneliness.”

            She untied the cord of his trousers and began to unlace them slowly, making sure to rub her hands against his manhood. She thought to remove his dagger and then remembered he was forbidden from carrying one.

            “Go on, then,” she said.

            He pulled his trousers off, folded them, and placed them next to his shirt. His face and chest flushed red, but he stood up straight.

            “You’re very fit,” she said. “Tell me your secret. Most bed slaves are so weak.”

            “My queen, I have already given you too many secrets for one night, please.”

            “Oh no, Aristos. If you are to be mine, I will have all of you.”

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About the Author

Zenobia Neil was named after an ancient warrior queen who fought against the Romans. She writes about the mythic past and Greek and Roman gods having too much fun. She lives with her husband, two children, and dog in Los Angeles. The Queen of Warriors is her third book.

Visit her at ZenobiaNeil.com. You can also follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.