Spotlight: The Con Artist by Kitty Thomas

The Con Artist
Kitty Thomas
Publication date: November 12th 2019
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance

Art. Obsession. Twisted possession.

When starving artist Saskia Roth meets Lachlan Niche, a local art collector and tech tycoon, she has no idea how her life is about to change. One act of desperation, one con gone wrong, and she finds herself at the mercy of a powerful man she fears and despises-or so she thinks.

As her desire for him grows, life as his captive becomes something more… something that could both transform her and destroy her.

EXCLUSIVE first teaser scene from the upcoming: THE ESCAPE ARTIST at the back of the book!

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EXCERPT:

Quill set the box next to the cage and walked the few feet to where Saskia sat like a sculpture on the ground. He pulled her up and, without a word, began to undress her. She didn’t dare speak.

He unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her hips, his hands running carefully over each inch of skin as he exposed it to the cool air. She braced her hands against his shoulders as she stepped out of the jeans, kicking her own shoes off in the process.

She’d worn a thong under the pants—subconsciously seducing him, knowing he’d discover it because of course this was coming. Quill ran an appreciative hand over the bared flesh, then removed the thong as well. She was left in the black cami top and collar. She hadn’t bothered with a bra on the plane. She’d tried not to think too much about that choice.

It took almost nothing, not even the hint of a breeze, for her nipples to stand at attention.

Typically, she wore bras with padding, not to look larger, but to avoid looking sexually excited even when she wasn’t. It attracted the wrong kind of attention. And she couldn’t be bothered to constantly explain to men with a frat-boy mentality that they just did that.

Quill cupped her breasts over the thin fabric and tweaked her nipples into even harder points as he stared into her eyes in the most unnerving way. She tried to look down. Some demure submissive instinct? She wasn’t sure, but when her gaze dropped, he slipped a hand under her chin and forced her gaze back to his.

Minutes passed in this aching silence. It was a challenge. A game. Who would speak first? As in any negotiation, whoever spoke first, lost. She knew that at least. She’d already lost once with this man, and she wasn’t willing to keep doing it.

Finally, he peeled her top off, and she stood on the cold marble floor, the sun from the skylight warming her back… waiting.

She didn’t wait long. He led her quietly to one of the Greek columns on the south end of the gallery and extracted a key from his pocket to unlock the chains. He turned her to face the column and locked each wrist in place so that her arms were stretched high over her head in a V. Then he did the same with her ankles. She felt as if she’d been left for a lion to rip apart in some huge amphitheater while the bored elite looked on.

Quill dragged the mystery box over to the column. She wouldn’t let herself look inside, too afraid if she saw what all he’d brought out here to torture her with, she’d start screaming and begging for mercy. She closed her eyes as large, strong hands skimmed over her back.

Despite her fear, her body arched into his caress. He pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder, then he rooted around in the box until he found what he was looking for.

Saskia wished there was a clock on the wall, something to mark this length of silence. Some tiny clicking tick tick tick so she could feel and know that time was still a thing that moved even as she stood frozen in this space.

She waited for him to say something. Anything. But now that it had begun, he seemed devoted to this eerie peace.

She jumped as something thudded against the skylight. There was a flapping of wings, and she looked up in time to see a disoriented raven fly off. A beat later, the whip came down across her back, and she winced against its bite.

She hadn’t had time to register the sound as it sliced through the air, the noise competing with the bird outside. But she heard it the second time, so sharp and loud it seemed it could rip time and space apart. The leather licked across her flesh like a serpent made of flame, and all she could do in response was tremble in his chains.

Screaming, crying, begging, all of these things would have been appropriate, but Saskia couldn’t do it. She couldn’t break this vow of silence she’d committed to, and it seemed neither could he. Neither of them spoke, too locked into this trance to interrupt its flow now.
The only sounds that spilled forth into the gallery were the snap and crack of the whip and the tiny gasps as it stole her breath. The tears finally came, sliding down her cheeks in that same respectful silence. And she knew, even without words between them, that he was pleased.

She counted each lash in her mind. She felt his strength, not in how hard he waled on her, but in how he restrained himself and held each strike in check.

Finally, he returned the whip to the box. She tensed, waiting for something else—not sure she could take more when no comfort was offered. While he hadn’t put her in physical peril, the lashes were much harder and more intense than the light play she’d experienced at the few kinky parties she’d been to on a lark.

And here there was no magic word she could say to make it all stop. All she could do if it became too much was beg and hope he’d have mercy on her.

Saskia startled when his hand wrapped around her throat, pulling her back, turning her tear-streaked face toward him. He left a long, lingering kiss on her mouth that took her breath away.

When he pulled back, he said, “I’m going to paint you now. Just like this.”


Author Bio:

KITTY THOMAS writes dark stories that play with power and have unconventional HEAs. She began publishing in early 2010 with her bestselling COMFORT FOOD and is considered one of the original authors of the dark romance subgenre.

To find out FIRST when a new book comes out, subscribe to Kitty's New Release List: KITTYTHOMAS.COM

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Spotlight: Rogue's Holiday by Regan Walker


Rogue's Holiday 
Agents of the Crown Book 5 
by Regan Walker 
Genre: Historical Romantic Adventure 

Publisher: Regan Walker Publishing 
Publication Date: November 7, 2019


Robert Powell’s work as a spy saves the Cabinet ministers from a gruesome death and wins him accolades from George IV. As a reward, the king grants him a baronetcy and a much-deserved holiday at the Royal Pavilion in Brighton where he thinks to indulge in brandy, cards, good horseflesh and women. 

But when Muriel, Dowager Countess of Claremont, learns of Sir Robert’s intended destination, she begs a favor…to watch over an “errant child” who is the grandniece of her good friend living in the resort town. Little does Robbie know that Miss Chastity Reynolds is no child but a beautiful hoyden who is seemingly immune to his charms. 

Chastity lives in the shadow of her mother and sisters, dark-haired beauties men admire. Her first Season was a failure but, as she will soon come into a family legacy, she has no need to wed. When she first encounters Sir Robert, she dubs him The Rogue, certain he indulges in a profligate lifestyle she wants no part in. 

In Brighton, Robbie discovers he is being followed by friends of the conspirators who had planned to murder the Cabinet. Worse, they know the location of Chastity's residence. 




Regan Walker is an award-winning, #1 Amazon bestselling author of Regency, Georgian and Medieval romances. She writes historically authentic novels with real historical figures along with her fictional characters. Among the awards she has won are the International Book Award for Romance Fiction, the San Diego Book Award for Best Historical Romance, the RONE Award for her medievals and the Gold Medal Illumination Award. 




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Spotlight: Mixed Match (All Mixed Up, #2) by MIA HEINTZELMAN

She was the only woman he wanted. He was the one man she couldn't trust. Will this unsuited pair clash? Or is it a...

Sophia Kent used to be a badass knife-wielding chef. Nowadays, she’s lucky if she can remember to put on a bra. Between the move to Portland and unpacking boxes, she’s glad there’s only one name on the title. Unfortunately, at the door there’s a gorgeous messenger with a document claiming she’s not the rightful owner.

Dead-set on getting his grandmother’s house back, real estate investor Everett Monroe is determined to see the thief go down, even if he has to deliver the summons himself. Only, the beautiful mess at the door is charming, sexy—and nothing like the man whose family’s been feuding with Everett’s for generations.

He doesn’t know whether she’s a pawn or a player, and she doesn’t know he’s not just a messenger, so after a few “chance” meetings, when she enlists his help to find a location for her restaurant, he agrees. After all, in thirty days there’s going to be a hearing granting him ownership and she’ll be long gone. Except, somewhere between sunset mountain hikes, brilliantly lit musical bridges, and picturesque Japanese Gardens, a dangerous attraction weaves its way between the secrets and lies. Forced to confront the truth, Everett must ask himself what good a home is without the one you love to share it with.

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About the Author

Mia Heintzelman is a graduate of the University of California, Berkeley and the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. She is a Chicago native who always has a book in her purse, loves to pair sweet and spicy tea with fluffy socks, and can’t go wrong with polka dots and pearls. She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and two children.

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Spotlight: Day Zero (Day Zero Duology Series #1) by Kelly deVos

Don’t miss the exhilarating new novel from the author of Fat Girl on a Plane, featuring a fierce, bold heroine who will fight for her family and do whatever it takes to survive. Fans of Susan Beth Pfeffer’s Life As We Knew It series and Rick Yancey’s The 5th Wave series will cheer for this fast-paced, near-future thrill ride.

If you’re going through hell…keep going.


Seventeen-year-old coder Jinx Marshall grew up spending weekends drilling with her paranoid dad for a doomsday she’s sure will never come. She’s an expert on self-heating meal rations, Krav Maga and extracting water from a barrel cactus. Now that her parents are divorced, she’s ready to relax. Her big plans include making it to level 99 in her favorite MMORPG and spending the weekend with her new hunky stepbrother, Toby.

But all that disaster training comes in handy when an explosion traps her in a burning building. Stuck leading her headstrong stepsister, MacKenna, and her precocious little brother, Charles, to safety, Jinx gets them out alive only to discover the explosion is part of a pattern of violence erupting all over the country. Even worse, Jinx’s dad stands accused of triggering the chaos.

In a desperate attempt to evade paramilitary forces and vigilantes, Jinx and her siblings find Toby and make a break for Mexico. With seemingly the whole world working against them, they’ve got to get along and search for the truth about the attacks—and about each other. But if they can survive, will there be anything left worth surviving for?

Excerpt

Dr. Doomsday’s Guide to Ultimate Survival

Rule One: Always be prepared.

I exhale in relief when Makeeba pulls the car into the Halliwell’s Market parking lot. The store is one of the only places in town with Extra Jolt soda, and I have to buy it myself because Mom won’t keep any in the house.

She thinks too much caffeine rots your brain or something. Halliwell’s is a low squat brown building that sits across the street from the mall and is next door to the town’s only skyscraper.

The First Federal Building was supposed to be the first piece of a suburban business district designed to rival the hip boroughs of New York. The mayor announced the construction of a movie theater, an apartment complex and an indoor aquarium. But the New Depression hit and the other buildings never materialized.

The First Federal Building alone soars toward the clouds, an ugly glass rectangle visible from every neighborhood, surrounded by the old town shops that have been there forever. Most of the stores are empty.

We park in front of the market.

Our car nestles in the long shadow of the giant bank building. Charles gets out and stands on the sidewalk in front of the car. Makeeba opens her door. She hesitates again. “Listen, I know you might not want to hear this or believe it. But my book report wasn’t about hurting you or getting revenge. I’m trying to get you to see what’s really happening here. That Carver’s election is the start of something really bad. We could use you at the rally. You’re one of the few people who understands Dr. Doomsday’s work. You could explain what he did. How he helped Carver cheat to win.”

“I’ve been planning this raid for months,” I say. My stomach churns, sending uncomfortable flutters through my in-sides. I don’t know what it would mean to talk about my father’s work. What I really want to do is pretend it doesn’t exist. Pretend the world is normal and whole.

I reassure myself with the reminder that there’s no way Makeeba is going to the rally either.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charles give us a small wave. Before Makeeba can say anything else, I get out and grab my backpack.

Inside Halliwell’s, I pick up a blue basket from the stack near the door. The small market is busy and full of other people shopping after school or work. The smell of pine cleaner hits me as we pass the checkout stations. They are super serious about germs and always cleaning between customers.

We come to the produce section, and I leave Makeeba and Charles at the Click N’Go rack checking out the seed packets that my brother collects. Dad got Charles hooked on this computerized gardening that uses an e-tablet and a series of tiny indoor lights to create the ideal indoor planter box. Each

week, they release a new set of exclusive seeds. Their genetic modifications are controversial.

All the soda is in large coolers that line one of the walls of the market. They keep the strange stuff in the corner. Expensive root beers. Ramune imported from Japan. And! Extra! Jolt!

I put a few bottles of strawberry in my basket. I snag some grape too. For a second, I consider buying a couple of bottles of doughnut flavor. But that sounds like too much, even for me. The chips are in the next aisle. I load up on cheese puffs and spicy nacho crisps.

They keep the Click N’Grow kiosk in the store’s tiny produce section between small tables of apples and bananas. Charles has selected several handfuls of seed packets. My brother dumps them in my basket.

Makeeba grimaces at the top packet. “I still don’t like that first one. It’s pretty. But still. It’s…carnivorous.”

Charles smiles. “It’s a new kind of pitcher plant. Like the Cobra Lily.” He points to the picture on the front of the seed packet. “Look at the blue flowers. That’s new.”

“It eats other plants,” Makeeba says.

“You eat plants.”

“But I don’t eat people,” Makeeba says. “There’s got to be some kind of natural law that says you shouldn’t eat your own kind.”

Charles giggles.

My brother’s gaze lands on my selection of soda and chips. “Can I get some snacks too?”

Crap.

I usually don’t buy unhealthy snacks when I’m with my brother. I smuggle them in my backpack and have a special hiding space in my desk.

“What’s your number?” I ask him.

My brother has type 1 diabetes, and he’s supposed to check his blood sugar after meals. He can have starchy or sugary snacks only when his glucose level is good, and usually only on special occasions.

Charles pretends he can’t hear me. That’s not a good sign.

“Charles, what’s your number?”

He still doesn’t look at me. “I forgot my monitor today.” “Well, I have mine.” I kneel down and dig around for the spare glucometer I keep in the front pocket of my backpack. By the time I get it out, Makeeba has already pulled Charles out of his blazer and rolled up the sleeve of his blue dress shirt. I wave the device over the small white sensor disk attached to my brother’s upper arm.

After a few seconds, the glucometer beeps and a number displays on the screen.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

“Charles! What did you eat today?”

My brother’s face turns red. “They were having breakfast-for-lunch day at school. Everyone else was having pancakes. Why can’t I have pancakes?”

I sigh. Something about his puckered up little face keeps me from reminding him that if he eats too much sugar he could die. “You know what Mom said. If you eat something you’re not supposed to, you have to get a pass and go to the nurse for your meds.”

My brother’s shoulders slump. “No one else has to go to the nurse.”

Charles is on the verge of tears and frowns even more deeply at the sight of my basket full of junk food.

“Look,” I say. “There are plenty of healthy snacks we can eat. I’ll put this stuff back.”

“That’s right,” Makeeba says, giving Charles’s hand a squeeze. “We can get some popcorn. Yogurt. Um, I saw some really delicious-looking fresh pears back there.”

“And they have the cheese cubes you like,” I add.

We go around the store replacing the cheese puffs and soda with healthy stuff. I hesitate when I have to put back the Extra Jolt but I really don’t want to have to make my brother feel bad because I can drink sugary stuff and he can’t. We pay for the healthy snacks and the seed packets.

I grab the bags and move toward the market’s sliding doors. I end up ahead of them, waiting outside by the car and facing the store. The shopping center behind Halliwell’s is mostly empty. The shoe store went out of business last year. Strauss Stationers, where everyone used to buy their fancy wedding invitations, closed the two years before that. The fish ’n’chips drive-through is doing okay and has a little crowd in front of the take-out window. Way off in the distance, Saba’s is still open, because in Arizona, cowboy boots and hats aren’t considered optional.

I watch Makeeba and Charles step out of the double doors and into the parking lot. Two little dimples appear on Makeeba’s cheeks when she smiles. Her long braids bounce up and down. Charles has a looseness to his walk. His arms dangle.

There’s a low rumble, like thunder from a storm that couldn’t possibly exist on this perfectly sunny day.

Something’s wrong.

In the reflection of the market’s high, shiny windows, I see something happening in the bank building next door. Some kind of fire burning in the lower levels. A pain builds in my chest and I force air into my lungs. My vision blurs at the edges. It’s panic, and there isn’t much time before it overtakes me.

The muscles in my legs tense and I take off at a sprint, grabbing Makeeba and Charles as I pass. I haul them along with me twenty feet or so into the store. We clear the door and run past a man and a woman frozen at the sight of what’s going on across the street.

I desperately want to look back.

But I don’t.

A scream.

A low, loud boom.

My ears ring.

The lights in the store go off.

I’ve got Makeeba by the strap of her maxidress and Charles by the neck. We feel our way in the dim light. The three of us crouch and huddle together behind a cash counter. A few feet in front of us, the cashier who checked us out two minutes ago is sitting on the floor hugging her knees.

We’re going to die.

Charles’s mouth is wide-open. His lips move. He pulls at the sleeve of my T-shirt.

I can’t hear anything.

It takes everything I’ve got to force myself to move.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Leaning forward. Pressing my face into the plywood of the store counter, I peek around the corner using one eye to see out the glass door. My eyelashes brush against the rough wood, and I grip the edge to steady myself. I take in the smell of wood glue with each breath.

Hail falls in the parking lot. I realize it’s glass.

My stomach twists into a hard knot.

It’s raining glass.

That’s the last thing I see before a wave of dust rolls over the building.

Leaving us in darkness.

Excerpted from Day Zero by Kelly deVos, Copyright © 2019 by Kelly deVos. Published by Inkyard Press.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Author Bio: KELLY DEVOS is from Gilbert, Arizona, where she lives with her high school sweetheart husband, amazing teen daughter and superhero dog, Cocoa. She holds a B.A. in Creative Writing from Arizona State University. When not reading or writing, Kelly can typically be found with a mocha in hand, bingeing the latest TV shows and adding to her ever-growing sticker collection. Her debut novel, Fat Girl on a Plane, named one of the "50 Best Summer Reads of All Time" by Reader's Digest magazine, is available now from HarperCollins.

Kelly's work has been featured in the New York Times as well as on Salon, Vulture and Bustle.

Connect:

Author Website

Twitter: @kdevosauthor

Facebook: @kellydevosbooks

Instagram: @kellydevos

Goodreads

Spotlight: Gifted by Ainsley St Claire

How do things fall apart so easily?

Kate:

As a former teacher, my mission is to keep the disadvantaged youth of our city engaged with school. My non-profit has been wildly successful with the kids, but now I'm forty mentors short for the Christmas season. It didn't look like we would be able to find enough help, until Jim Adelson got involved. He may have solved my mentor problem, but he's created another: I can't concentrate with this panty melting God around.

Jim:

The community has been good to me. I'd built my successful security business with hard work and determination, and when I got approached to help Kate Monroe's non-profit, it seemed a fitting way to give back. I'd offer to spend time with some kids, but it’s Kate that I find myself wanting to spend time with. With beauty obvious to everyone, and a compassionate heart she wears on her sleeve, she has me reevaluating my priorities.

When the children's Christmas gifts go missing, Jim and Kate are forced together in the hunt.

Can true love fight through the drama to find a happy ending?

Gifted is the first book in the holiday series Clear Security Holidays. This is a standalone holiday romance suspense novel, but characters from the Venture Capital series and from Tech Billionaires can be known to make appearances.

Excerpt

Kate

Forty kids won’t have a Christmas, and it’s all my fault. 

Over two hundred kids from middle schools across the city and county of San Francisco—from some of the most at-risk areas—met the requirements for our contest, and I’m forty donor/mentors short for our upcoming celebration. At two hundred dollars apiece, I don’t know what I’m going to do. How do I break a promise I made to these kids on the first day of school? Go to school for seventy-five days, don’t be absent, don’t be late, and get a passing grade. If you accomplish all that, you’ll get a two-hundred-dollar shopping spree at Bullseye.

Some people think “paying kids to go to school” is a bad thing. But we get paid to come to work, and some people play solitaire on their computers while they sit there. How is that not paying you for just showing up? In a lot of low-income areas—in San Francisco and elsewhere—over half of the students that complete middle school never walk into a high school, and less than ten percent of those who do will go on to graduate. Life isn’t easy for these kids, and going to school every day is not easy with so many distractions. But with some incentive, we see improvement. 

To make those incentives happen, I’ve got to figure out how I’m going to fund these last few students and find mentors to spend the day with them while they shop. I’ve tapped my network, and it’s pretty dry. But I can’t disappoint these kids; they’ve had enough disappointment in their lives.

I open the app to my bank account: three hundred dollars. I was going to use that money for my rent next month, and, you know, to feed myself. Right now, there’s no man in my life to make sure I get at least an occasional dinner. I check the account for my Visa card, and I can squeeze out maybe two thousand dollars to cover ten kids. But that still leaves me with thirty more, and still no mentors. Crap! What am I going to do? 

Tess walks into my office. “Isn’t this great? We’ve never had this many kids, ever! This could mean we have at least a hundred more kids graduate, and fifteen of those will go on to college, plus sixty more to trade schools. This is amazing. Are we going to be ready?”

I force a smile. “I hope so. We’re short a few donor/mentors.”

“In this town, people spend two hundred dollars on dinner without a second thought. We should be able to find a few that will support a good cause.”

“I hope so. I’ve reached out to our board members and asked them to check with their network.”

“How many donors are we short?”

“Forty. I can leverage my credit card for ten of those, but I’m not sure how we’re going to be able to make this work.”

“Kate, if anyone will get this figured out, it’s you. Last year we had barely one hundred kids complete this project. This year we have over two hundred. You need to celebrate that.”

“I will when I lock down the rest of the people we need.”

“Well, then don’t be shy. Bug those board members.”

“I will.” 

But that may not be enough. Somehow, I need to get to the big players in town.

“What about your new board member?” Tess asks.

“That’s Stephanie Paulson, and she does seem pretty well-connected. She must know a few people that can help us.” 

I’ve asked her about this a few times during our meetings, but I need to try again in writing. I don’t think my board members realize how tough it is to keep a nonprofit up and running in this city.

I craft a carefully worded email to remind Stephanie of our remaining need and looming deadline, trying to sound just the right amount of desperate. We’re only a five-year-old nonprofit, but we’re making a difference. I can feel it in my bones. However, if we can’t make this happen for all the kids who earned it, we may not recover. 

I send my message, and after just a few minutes, an email pops up.

To: Katherine Monroe

From: Stephanie Paulson

Subject: RE: Brighter Future Christmas Party

I’m sorry I keep forgetting. Thanks for the email reminder. I’ve forwarded your note to everyone in my contact list with your information. We should be able to come up with more than forty donors. We’re only asking them for $200 and a Saturday morning, for goodness sake! The party on Christmas Eve is a bonus! Let me know if you don’t hear from enough and I’ll rattle the cages, but at the very minimum, I’ll send over a check for $5,000 you can use for the party.

Keep up the good work. 

XOXO

Steph

Suddenly, I can take a deep breath again. This guarantees the needed money, and I’m on the road to having the volunteers as well. That’s probably the most important part. These kids need mentors, and spending the day with adults who’ve accomplished something means a lot. 

My phone interrupts my thoughts. “Kate Monroe,” I answer.

“Hello, Miss Monroe? This is Jamal Jenkins.”

“Hey, Jamal. How are you?”

“I’m doin’ real good. I just wanted to make sure you saw that my name was on the list again this year.”

“You better believe I saw your name. I’m very proud of you.”

“Jose made it, too. And we have four other friends who made it this year. Once they learned they could get two hundred dollars of stuff for just going to school, they were joining us.”

“I can’t wait to see you guys on Saturday when you pick out your gifts.”

“I’ve got a list,” he says proudly. “Is it okay if I bring my baby sister to the party on Christmas Eve?”

“Of course, and your grandmother, too.”

“Just make sure the Santa you get this year is a little more realistic.”

I laugh. Last year’s Santa was our CPA, and he’s tall and really skinny. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great. See you at Bullseye next Saturday.”

“I can’t wait.”

I worked as a teacher for five years, and it’s the hardest job there is. Not only are you responsible for educating the next generation, but many students have so much going on in their personal life that you end up being their mentor, friend, confidant, and sometimes parent as well. That’s exactly why I decided to start Brighter Future.

Chapter 2

Jim

Sitting behind my desk and doing mundane things like answering emails is my least favorite activity. I’d rather sit in the rain, soaked to the bone for eight hours, than sit behind a desk. 

Today I’ve got two hundred and sixty unopened emails. I know some of them are unopened because I know I don’t feel like looking at them, but others I should manage. 

Just not today. 

I need someone else to start handling these emails. Ever since we made the national news for helping bring down an international crime ring, we’ve had more inquiries than we can handle. I don’t have the bandwidth to keep expanding. My security firm has only been in business for about eight years, and I already have more clients than I know what to do with and a team spread throughout the US.

Scanning the emails, I delete the junk mail without opening it, but Stephanie Paulson’s email titled “Help” stops my scrolling. 

I click it open. She sits on a nonprofit board that’s looking for forty people to go shopping with a middle schooler next Saturday and cover a two-hundred-dollar shopping spree. 

Interesting concept.

Their goal is to keep kids in school. Thinking back to my own childhood, I remember how opportunities came to me. I was more trouble for my mom than she could handle. When I was seventeen, I landed in front of a judge and he gave me two options: jail for two years or join the Marine Corps. 

I didn’t expect to be in the Marines long, but once I got there, for the first time I felt like I belonged somewhere, and I loved the structure the service gave me. I ended up giving them two tours. During my last tour, my commanding officer was a Naval Academy grad. While in school he’d developed an app that moved artificial limbs to a new level where they could behave like actual limbs. 

When we reconnected a few years later, Nate had created a multimillion-dollar business, and his daughter had been kidnapped by some less-than-savory characters in a local Chinese gang. The police and FBI were overwhelmed, so he reached out to me as an intermediary and to provide some security. We got his daughter back, and that was the start of my security firm. After that, additional work began falling into my lap.

In short, I’ve always felt incredibly lucky. Sometimes it takes unexpected opportunities to change the path of a child.

There’s literature about the nonprofit attached to the message, and I open the director’s memo about her passion for kids and the importance of education. I can’t help but relate.

I peruse the Brighter Future website, looking it over carefully, and I do a background check on the director and founder to make sure everything is on the up and up. Katherine Monroe immediately piques my interest. There are some candid pictures of her on the website, and I open up her PeopleMover page to learn more about her. 

She has all her privacy settings on high, and that impresses me. Using my super-secret backdoor password, I’m still able to look at her account. She has pictures of travels and friends. Her status says she’s single—I’m not sure why, but that seems important. She has pictures at an Oakland A’s game. She must be a glutton for punishment if she likes the A’s. Also, she’s stunning—chocolate brown hair with deep auburn highlights, green eyes that I get lost in, and curves in all the right places. I find my pants are tighter than they were before I looked at her pictures, and I very much want to help her cause.

I have a very high-end clientele. I’m sure I can help her get forty donors. I know exactly what these small gestures mean. Usually, my clients are asking for something from me, but now maybe I can ask them for something. I start with one of my bigger clients, SHN, a successful venture capital firm. Mason Sullivan is the managing partner and has his hands in the pockets of some of Silicon Valley’s best companies.

Before the call even rings, Mason answers. “Hey, Jim. What’s up?”

“Mason, glad I caught you. I just sent you a message, and I wanted to make sure you saw it at the top of your list. One of my other clients, Stephanie Paulson, needs some help, and it seemed right up your alley.” I walk him through what I know. “I thought maybe you and Caroline wouldn’t mind getting involved, and maybe you could pull in Dillon and Emerson and a couple of the other partners to help out these kids.”

Mason is quiet for a few moments. “I think that‘s definitely something we can pull off. Shouldn’t be an issue at all.”

“That’s great news. You think all four of you would be willing to commit?”

“I will check everyone’s calendars, but there are nine partners and their significant others I should be able to drag along. I’ll commit to twenty donors. It’ll be good for us to do something for the city who hosts us.”

“I like it. Send me over a list of names, and I’ll pass it along.”

I hang up and call my old friend and former CO, Nate Lancaster. He’s working on his third successful startup and has more zeros in his bank account than Bill Gates. 

“My man Jim. How’s it hangin’?” he says as he answers.

“Hey, Nate. What’s going on?”

“You know, living the dream. Every day is a holiday.”

“Yeah, in your case that’s probably true.” 

“Hey, man, how did you know you were on my list to call today? Cecilia wants to know if you can stop by for dinner this weekend.”

“I will commit to dinner with you and the family if you’ll consider a favor for me.” I explain the nonprofit and their need. “Can you help me out?”

“Of course. So…can I tell Cecilia you’ll be bringing a date this weekend?”

I don’t have time to date. When I have an itch that needs scratching, I have a few women I can call, but nothing serious. Women aren’t patient with the lifestyle my job creates. I have to be flexible at all times. 

“No, it’ll be just me.”

“She wants to fix you up with one of her friends.” In a low voice he adds, “I know who she’s thinking of, and I like her, but don’t even consider it. Marnie is sweet, but high maintenance doesn’t even describe her adequately.”

“Well, you also know my work schedule. No woman is in for this lifestyle.”

“The right one will be.”

I need to change the subject. “Anyway, I emailed you the information. We need another ten people, so if you know of any others, please ask. Then send me a note with the names of who can come.”

“You need ten? I can probably come up with at least five—one will be Marnie.”

I groan internally. “You just said she was a train wreck.”

“I still think she’d enjoy this.”

“Great. Confirm and let me know.”

I check my email and find a message from Mason. He has twenty-six people from SHN and a few of their clients. Then I see an email from Nate pop up with the five he’s promised. That leaves us short just nine, and I know my team can cover that and then some.

To: Katherine Monroe

From Jim Adelson

Subject: Donors

Hi, Kate,
Stephanie Paulson emailed me about your need for 40 people to take some kids shopping. I’ve come up with a list of 42, just in case some flake out. And I know I can easily talk a few more people into participating, if needed. Let me know if you have any questions.

Jim 

Jim Adelson

CEO, Clear Security

I attach a list of names with emails and phone numbers. I’m actually looking forward to this. Now I just need to hope my Saturday doesn’t blow up and make my time with my award-winning student rushed in any way.

Grab Your Copy Today! 

About Ainsley St. Claire: 

Ainsley St Claire is a Romantic Suspense Author and Adventurer on a lifelong mission to craft sultry storylines and steamy love scenes that captivate her readers. To date, she is best known for her series Venture Capitalists.

An avid reader since the age of four, Ainsley’s love of books knew no genre. After reading, came her love of writing, fully immersing herself in the colorful, impassioned world of contemporary romance.

Ainsley’s passion immediately shifted to a vocation when during a night of terrible insomnia, her first book came to her. Ultimately, this is what inspired her to take that next big step. The moment she wrote her first story, the rest was history.

Currently, Ainsley is in the midst of writing a nine-book series called “Venture Capitalist.” 

When she isn’t being a bookworm or typing away her next story on her computer, Ainsley enjoys spending quality family time with her loved ones. She is happily married to her amazing soulmate and is a proud mother of two rambunctious boys. She is also a scotch aficionada and lover of good food (especially melt-in-your-mouth, velvety chocolate). Outside of books, family, and food, Ainsley is a professional sports spectator and an equally as terrible golfer and tennis player.

Connect with Ainsley: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon 

Cover Reveal: Building Bridges by Lia Fairchild

Building Bridges
Lia Fairchild
(Bridges Brothers, #1)
Publication date: January 16th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Former soldier Logan Bridges never imagined he would go from serving his country to helping raise a house full of children after a devastating family loss.

Dealing with his rowdy siblings and cousins proves to be almost as treacherous as the battlefields he left behind. And though he’s committed to making it work, he soon finds he’s in over his head.

Until someone from Logan’s past, steps in to help.

Mollie has always been independent, but finds herself growing attached to the family, and Logan, discovering there’s more to life than working and solitude.

Logan and Mollie quickly form a strong bond, and when attraction brings them closer, they agree getting involved wouldn’t be good for the children. But when they both struggle to keep the blurry line of friendship between them, Mollie won’t take that step unless Logan can open up and face his painful past.

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Author Bio:

Bestselling author Lia Fairchild writes romance and women's fiction. Fans of her books praise her endearing, real characters who overcome their flaws to become their own heroes.

Fairchild is addicted to the warmth of Southern California and holds a bachelor's degree in journalism and a multiple-subject teaching credential. She is a wife and mother of two teenagers.

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