Spotlight: Wyoming Special Delivery by Melissa Senate

Their feuding fathers never could have predicted this… He came to claim the Dawson Family Ranch…but was Daisy Dawson’s heart part of the deal? Harrison McCord was sure he was the rightful owner of the Dawson Family Ranch. And delivering Daisy Dawson’s baby on the side of the road was a mere diversion. Still, when Daisy found out his intentions, instead of pushing him away, she invited him in, figuring he’d start to see her in a whole new light. But what if she started seeing him that way, as well?

A letter from the author: 

Dear Reader,

The nine-months-pregnant single heroine of Wyoming Special Delivery, Daisy Dawson, is one of six siblings and the only female. But when she goes into labor on the side of a Wyoming road in the dead of summer without a cell phone or a spare brother, she’s beyond grateful when the handsome, mysterious guest at her family’s dude ranch turns up—and delivers her baby boy.

But Harrison McCord has a secret reason for staying at the Dawson Family Ranch. A reason Daisy will not like one bit. Bringing her newborn son into the world, though, changes everything for the both of them.

I hope you enjoy Daisy and Harrison’s story. Feel free to write me with any comments or questions at MelissaSenate@yahoo.com and visit my website, melissasenate.com for more info about me and my books. For lots of photos of my cat and dog, friend me over on Facebook.

Happy spring and happy reading!

Warmest regards,

Melissa Senate

Excerpt

Late the next afternoon, Daisy stood in the farmhouse nursery with Noah and Sara and gasped as she looked around. She gently put down Tony’s infant carrier and unbuckled him, carefully cradling him along her arm as she stepped around the room. The nursery sure looked different than it had a day and a half ago. She’d had the basics of the room set up for a couple months now—the crib, the dresser with its changing pad, the glider—all gifts from Noah a few days after she’d told him she was pregnant. But now there were surprises everywhere. In one corner was an adorable plush child’s chair in the shape of a teddy bear for Tony to grow into. And someone had stenciled the wall facing the crib with the moon and stars. Tony’s name was also stenciled on his crib, which was Sara’s handiwork. And there were stacks of gifts in one corner that she knew were baby clothes and blankets and burp cloths. She wouldn’t have to buy anything for Tony for a long time.

“Ford and Rex did the moon and stars,” Noah said. “For novice stencilers who had to read the instructions twice and watch a tutorial, they did a great job.”

“And Zeke and Axel hit up BabyLand and bought that adorable polka-dot rug and the yellow floor lamp,” Sara added. “I didn’t even go with them to make sure they didn’t buy anything weird or clashing, and what they picked out is absolutely perfect.”

The room was so cozy and sweet. “You guys are going to make me cry,” Daisy managed to say around the lump in her throat as she surveyed the nursery. She used her free hand to swipe under her eyes.

She couldn’t say she and her brothers were close—well, except for Noah these days—but they were always there for her. And they’d all been there to meet Tony the day he was born. That was the one lucky thing to come out of her nonwedding—her whole family had already been at the ranch.

This place had always held bad memories for all the siblings, but after inheriting the ranch from their father, they’d all invested in rebuilding and renovating and reopening the Dawson Family Guest Ranch. Noah had done the lion’s share on his own; Daisy had been too pregnant to help much when she’d arrived a few months ago, and the four other Dawsons couldn’t get away from the ranch fast enough.

Ford had once said hell would freeze over be-fore he’d come back here, a sentiment shared by the other three brothers as well, but Ford, Rex, Axel and Zeke had surprised Noah and Daisy at the grand opening this past Memorial Day weekend. And now Axel was staying at the ranch for a bit. That meant three out of six Dawsons at the ranch at the same time. It was a start. And Daisy was going to run with it.

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About the Author

Melissa Senate has written many novels for Harlequin and other publishers, including her debut, SEE JANE DATE, which was made into a TV movie. She also wrote seven books for Harlequin's Special Edition line under the pen name Meg Maxwell. Melissa's novels have been published in over twenty-five countries. She lives on the coast of Maine with her teenaged son, their sweet shepherd mix, Flash, and a comical lap cat named Cleo. Visit her website MelissaSenate.com.

Spotlight: Here to Stay by Adriana Herrera

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Imprint: Carina Press

Award-winning, highly-acclaimed author Adriana Herrera delivers the sexy, modern enemies-to-lovers romance you’ve been waiting for.

Starting over is more about who you’re with than where you live…

Julia del Mar Ortiz is not having the best year.

She moved to Dallas with her boyfriend, who ended up ditching her and running back to New York after only a few weeks. Left with a massive—by NYC standards, anyway—apartment and a car lease in the scorching Texas heat, Julia is struggling…except that’s not completely true. Running the charitable foundation of one of the most iconic high fashion department stores in the world is serious #lifegoals.

It’s more than enough to make her want to stick it out down South.

The only monkey wrench in Julia’s plans is the blue-eyed, smart-mouthed consultant the store hired to take them public. Fellow New Yorker Rocco Quinn’s first order of business? Putting Julia’s job on the chopping block.

When Julia is tasked with making sure Rocco sees how valuable the programs she runs are, she’s caught between a rock and a very hard set of abs. Because Rocco Quinn is almost impossible to hate—and even harder to resist.

Excerpt

Julia

I stepped into the elevator and shoved my phone into the pocket of my dress, took a moment to send a prayer to the employee discount that let me buy bomb clothes on a nonprofit worker budget, and did some mental math of what could be going on.

Was the program really in trouble? Could we actually get shut down?

Nope, I would not go there. I would not think about what it would be like to get on a plane back to New York dumped and unemployed. Not happening.

A distraction. That’s what I needed. Just as the door to the elevator was about to close, someone got in. The fact that I was eye level with the base of his throat was a good clue as to who it was, but when he opened his mouth and the now familiar knee-weakening baritone echoed off the walls of the elevator, I got my confirmation.

“Morning, Ms. Ortiz.” That voice could be used for interrogation tactics. Every muscle in my body loosened at the same time whenever I heard it.

I squeaked out a “Morning” and took my time lifting my head all the way up to look at the last person in the world I wanted overhearing my conversation with my mother.

Him.

Rocco Fucking Quinn, otherwise known as the “Team Leader” for the consulting firm looking to bag my job. The guy with the New York City-est name on the planet. I hadn’t exactly gotten personal with Mr. Quinn, but I picked up on that accent the first time we met.

“What’s good?” I really tried to sound polite, but my Queens jumped out in situations like this. I did not gulp, because I could not let this fucker see me sweat. I managed not to cut my eyes at him, but it was a close call.

I took him in, ramrod straight, every hair in its place, not a wrinkle in sight, and decided he could not be the proprietor of the laugh-choke from before. The man seemed to be completely lacking a sense of humor. I knew he must have teeth but I’d never seen them.

Yeah, definitely not him. That fact rallied my spirits a little bit as I stood close enough to pick up on how he smelled. Like the ocean and something woodsy. That was not helpful information.

Without saying another word, I ran my eyes over him. It struck me that he was not wearing something bespoke like pretty much everyone here. Don’t get me wrong, he still looked good enough to eat, but he was clearly on a budget. And at a place where everyone looked like they were heading to a New York Fashion Week photo shoot, it was sort of jarring. Still, the suit fit him well. And there was no question, this guy could wear the fuck out of a suit. I held back a whimper when I envisioned him in a Brioni or a Zegna. They’d have to put out a heat advisory for the building if that ever happened.

“I thought I could detect a familiar accent when I was coming down the hall.” His perfectly blue eyes twinkled at what I was certain was an expression of utter mortification on my face. He sounded pleasant enough, but he was also alluding to the fact that I was yapping on my phone. This wasn’t the first time he tried to be cute. Rocco Quinn seemed to like fucking with me. And it was only a matter of time before he stepped on my last nerve and I reamed him out.

Thankfully, just as I was scrambling to respond to his comment, the elevator got to my floor. I was planning to just leave him hanging and run off, but he was hot on my heels.

Dammit.

“Sounds like your mom misses you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why did he have to act all fake nice?

I nodded without looking at him. “She does. Listen, Mr. Quinn—”

“You can call me Rocco.”

Nope, that was not happening. I was not letting this sexy bastard talk me into getting all chummy with him. I was already on thin ice as it was. He could keep his pheromones and his slick-as-fuck expressions to his damn self. I came to a dead stop a few feet away from the conference room door where my boss—and whatever shitty news she was about to give me—was waiting.

When I turned around, Rocco was looking down at me with an expectant smile. God he was handsome, that jet-black hair so dark it almost had a tinge of blue and those eyes, piercing. And I guess he had teeth after all, and of course they were perfect. Asshole. I shook my head hard when my traitorous brain started wondering what Pantone color his eyes would be.

Get your head in the game, Julia del Mar.

I straightened my back, determined to fight off the debilitating effects of those gleaming teeth and perfectly pink lips. I had to remember this niceness was probably his way of getting us to let our guard down. He was here to find ways to cut jobs. I was not about to mouth off and get myself fired, but I needed to get some things clear.

“Look.” I was proud of myself for not rolling my neck or pointing at his face. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but you make me nervous.” I pulled on the hem of my blue polka-dot dress and smoothed my yellow cardigan, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

Uh, maybe because you’re here to close down as much of the foundation as you can.

I refrained from actually saying that because I had not been raised by a Puerto Rican man and Dominican woman just so I could act like I had no home training with the guy who could get me fired. But it was a close call.

“I’m sorry for saying that. You don’t make me nervous.”

Lies.

Rocco Quinn didn’t just make me nervous. He made me want to run my hands all over that big-ass body and moon over his almost but not quite curly hair and blue eyes, in spite of the fact that I knew he was out here gunning for my entire program. And yet, I still wanted to kiss the hell out of him while I climbed him like a sequoia.

Copyright © 2020 by Adriana Herrera

Grab Your Copy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About Adriana Herrera

Adriana was born and raised in the Caribbean, but for the last fifteen years has let her job (and her spouse) take her all over the world. She loves writing stories about people who look and sound like her people, getting unapologetic happy endings.

When she’s not dreaming up love stories, planning logistically complex vacations with her family or hunting for discount Broadway tickets, she’s a trauma therapist in New York City, working with survivors of domestic and sexual violence.

Her Dreamers series has received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Booklist and has been featured in The TODAY Show on NBC, Entertainment Weekly, NPR, Library Journal and The Washington Post. Her debut, American Dreamer, was selected as one of Booklist’s ‘Best Romance Debuts of 2019’, and one of the ‘Top 10 Romances of 2019’ by Entertainment Weekly. Her third novel, American Love Story, was one of the winners in the first annual Ripped Bodice Award for Excellence in Romantic Fiction. Adriana is an outspoken advocate for diversity in romance and has written for Remezcla and Bustle about Own Voices in the genre. She’s one of the co-creators of the Queer Romance PoC Collective. Represented by Taylor Haggerty at Root Literary.

Connect with Adriana Herrera

Website: https://adrianaherreraromance.com 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ladrianaherrera 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laura.adriana.94801 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ladriana_herrera/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18639202.Adriana_Herrera 

Spotlight: The Promise Kept by Maggie Mae Gallagher

Publication date: August 19th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Cybil Roe gave her heart away thirteen years ago only to have it wind up shattered. With painstaking determination, she has rebuilt her life into something to be proud of today. Yet all her future plans are upended when the only man she has ever loved returns to Echo Springs. Nor does it help that he seems bound and determined to draw her back into his life. Cybil vows to stay away from him, no matter what seeing him all the time does to her resolve.
 
Miles Keaton wiped the dust of his hometown off his shoes years ago, never expecting that life would lead him back to the place where he had begun. Coming home to Echo Springs, to Cybil, to start a new law practice and a new life is a risk he never thought he'd take. She hates him – with good reason. Years ago, he walked away when she needed him the most. But now is he back, and intends to argue the case of his life, one more important than any he has debated in a courtroom, because she is the one woman he cannot live without.
 
Can Miles convince Cybil to take a second chance on him, or will a secret she has kept all these years destroy any future they might have?

Excerpt

“Oh, yes. Right there,” she murmured.

Cybil sighed at the strong hands kneading her tense shoulders. Golden sunshine warmed her skin. Azure waves lapped against the pristine, ivory sand not fifteen feet from where she lounged on a luxurious padded chaise. Her tanned skin glistened in the sun. The coconut scent from her suntan lotion wafted on the gentle breeze and mingled with the salt from the ocean waves. The simmering heat of the tropics caused perspiration to bead on her forehead and evaporate with the light wind. The sunglasses perched on her nose shaded her gray eyes from the radiant sunlight.

It was without a doubt a perfect day.

The light breeze played with the loose tendrils of her inky hair while the sexy-as-sin Pablo—he of the broad, tanned shoulders, gorgeously thick black hair, and soulful eyes—massaged her shoulders with his long, talented fingers. The man had the most wonderful, gifted hands and knew precisely where to exert the most pressure. And those thumbs of his were singularly skilled at ferreting out every ache and pain.

God, she had needed this getaway—away from the cold, the snow, the dreaded holidays, and nonstop work. 

She muffled a moan.

Cybil couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She could still taste the lime and salt from her frozen margarita. And she was a breath away from suggesting to Pablo that they take the massage indoors to her beachside bungalow. The thought of those hands massaging other regions of her body left her achy and needy. It had been so long since she had been with a man. Since this was a vacation, she didn’t have to worry about getting attached. Cybil moaned as he dug into a knot on her left shoulder.

Pablo lowered his face. Cybil shivered, heady anticipation humming along her skin. Was he going to nibble on her ear? Suggest naughty, decadent delights to be had if they retreated indoors? She was ready and willing for anything the guy had in mind.

“Purrr.” A cold, wet nose pressed against the side of her cheek where it met her ear, amplifying the sound. The purr increased in tenor. Something tickled her nose. 

Cybil cracked an eye open. A pair of golden eyes stared at her with expectation and determination, with a side of feline disdain that she had yet to acknowledge him.

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Maggie grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Maggie never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Maggie is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes erotic romance under the name Anya Summers. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the United States Midwest with her two furry felines.

Connect:

https://www.maggiemaegallagher.com/

https://www.instagram.com/magmaegallagher/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7846308.Maggie_Mae_Gallagher

https://www.facebook.com/MagMaeGallagher/

https://twitter.com/magmaegallagher

https://www.maggiemaegallagher.com/newsletter/

Spotlight: Blood and Sand: The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt by Jennifer M. Lane

General Fiction (cozy small town fiction)

Date Published: August, 2019

Publisher: Pen & Key Publishing

 

A tiny town. A broken tavern. And one woman searching for a place to belong.

Logan Cole is used to getting her way and what she wants more than anything is for her father to get out of jail and restore her old life in New York. All she has to do is wait for his scandals to fade and the online rancor against her family to subside. Low on cash and out of options, she takes a bus north looking for anonymity and stops in the smallest town she can find: Ramsbolt, Maine.

When she stumbles into Helen’s Tavern, she finds a place in need of a make-over and a grandmotherly woman who could use some help. Soon, she finds herself growing fond of the bar, Helen, and the town. She’s even found a friend in Grey, the local plumber. The tiny town puts her at a crossroads: keep hiding her identity to preserve her new reputation or let down her guard and reveal her true self to the people she’s grown to love. But the choice is ripped from her hands when tragedy strikes the bar and saving it requires every tool at her disposal.

Can Logan find a true home among the people of Ramsbolt Maine?

The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt is a series by Jennifer M. Lane, award-winning author Of Metal and Earth and Stick Figures from Ramsbolt. Fresh and heart-warming, the series tells the stories of a small town looking for belonging.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Logan Cole had never been on a bus in her life. As she stretched her legs and stumbled onto the sidewalk at the tip of Maine, she cursed the eight hour learning experience and swore never to do it again.

The last stop before the border was less like a terminal and more like a dead end. No benches, no depot, no ticketing window. And no taxis. Just a little yellow house with leaning porch surrounded by scruffy blueberry shrubs. At least it wasn’t sweltering out.

She yanked her black Rimowa suitcase, one of the few things the FBI let her keep, from the bottom of the bus. She gave the driver a wry smile and thanked him for the trip. It wasn’t his fault a woman coughed and crinkled candy wrappers the whole way, and that guy with his earbuds in behind her never learned to sing.

“Six hundred miles better be far enough.” She mumbled to herself as she dragged the suitcase down the sidewalk, fumbling for her phone in her purse. It was a habit she still hadn’t broken, opening apps to fill a void, but she’d deleted Twitter, Facebook, and the rest of them when the threats started pouring in. Eight months, four court cases, a thousand stories in the news, and she still hadn’t gotten used to being without social media. Being disconnected was better than scrolling through contempt, though.

“Battery’s almost dead. Map won’t load. Damn it.” She walked back the way she’d come, past quaint little houses and blueberry bushes, back to the bar she’d seen a mile or so before. It was across from a cheap motel with moldy siding and mildewed plastic chairs. The bar itself was windowless and brick. Definitely not the kind of place where someone would look for one of the wealthiest people in the country. Or someone who used to be.

She paused at an intersection and started a text to her mom, a quick note to say she was far from the gossip and rumors, safe from tabloid headlines squawking about a Cole Curse, and nowhere near the internet trolls who flooded her notifications with threats, saying they knew where to find her and what they would do to her when they did. All because of her father.

She waited among the cigarette butts and rusted beer caps while her text bounced its way to France.

Delivered. Three dots appeared. Her mother’s reply came slow.

Good luck. Lay low. I'll send money if I can. Try to blend in.

Logan sent back a smiley face and a greeting for her aunt and uncle.

Letting her phone fall back in her purse, she swallowed hard and tugged hem of her T-shirt down over her jeans. Her heart pounded so loud she wouldn’t be able to hear traffic if there’d been any. But the intersection was dead. The only other animate object in that town was the little orange hand blinking on the stop light, telling her not to walk.

The light changed and a little white man blinked, urging her to cross the street before it was too late. By the look of the town nothing was urgent. The only signs of life were two cars in the bar’s parking lot. They could be abandoned for all she knew.

A countdown timer marked off the seconds. Eleven. Ten.

Left to the motel. Straight to the bar. Neither option looked all that inviting.

For the first time since she left New York, rage, hot as the surface of the sun, boiled within her. She was supposed to be in an air conditioned office somewhere, running a foundation. Sipping a latte that came from cart. Logan kicked a beer cap into the street, and it skittered into a pothole.

Five. Four.

The little man on the pedestrian signal had his whole life together. He had purpose and goals and a job. He had an identity, and everyone knew who he was. Logan had all of that until her father screwed up, and the government charged him with money laundering and took it all away. All she had left were some comfy pants shoved in a suitcase and a cell phone plan she couldn’t afford. She squeezed the handle of her suitcase so tight her knuckles turned white.

Two. One.

The Do Not Walk signal blinked, and she crossed the street defiant.

The sidewalk rippled. Uneven slabs of concrete were mere islands, broken by the freeze and thaw of ice, lost in a sea of weeds and road dirt. She faced the bar.

When she opened that door, she would find herself in a whole new world. There would be questions. What was her name? Where did she come from? Maybe they would recognize her right away from the newspapers, the tabloids, Twitter. She wasn’t prepared for any of it, and she never would be. She didn’t even know how to fill out a job application. What was she supposed to say? I’m a Yale graduate with a degree in Art History, the daughter of a felon, and I’ve come to scrub your bathroom?

The sun would set in a few hours, and that motel did not look hospitable. The keys to a job and a cheap apartment were somewhere in that bar.

Taking in a shaky breath of Maine air, she held it in until her lungs soaked it up, then let out a steady stream of all she had left.

“Get in there and prove your mother wrong. You are still a Cole and Coles do not give up. We don’t stand on the sidewalk and talk to ourselves, either.”

Her whole future lay ahead of her. She just had to get by until her dad set it right. Shoulders back, head up, she opened

About the Author

A Maryland native and Pennsylvanian at heart, Jennifer M. Lane holds a bachelor's degree in philosophy from Barton College and a master's in liberal arts with a focus on museum studies from the University of Delaware, where she wrote her thesis on the material culture of roadside memorials. She is the author of the award-winning novel Of Metal and Earth, of Stick Figures from Rockport, and the series of stand-alone novels from The Collected Stories of Ramsbolt, including Blood and Sand. Visit her website at https: //www.jennifermlanewrites.com/

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Cover Reveal: Snowed In by Lindy Miller

Publication date: December 8th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

CHRISTMAS ISN’T ROXANNE HUDSON’S STYLE…UNTIL SHE FINDS HERSELF SNOWED IN WITH HIM.

Roxanne Hudson does not like Christmas. It comes with too many family obligations that take her away from work as a rising fashion editor in New York City. But this year might be Grandma Myrtle’s last Christmas, and Roxanne’s parents want her to spend the holiday at the family cabin in the Green Mountains. With her boyfriend Hunter away at a photo shoot, Roxanne decides to brave the long commute—and the wilderness—to spend Christmas in Vermont.

But when an uncomfortable phone call from Hunter starts her trip off badly, Roxanne is blindsided by a blizzard on the snowy mountain road. When she’s rescued by a handsome park ranger who’s the exact opposite of everything she always thought she wanted, Roxanne might discover she has time for a little Christmas magic after all.

About the Author

Lindy Miller is an author of feel-good love stories that are full of sweet moments and happy endings. She believes the best time to fall in love is during the holidays, preferably over a cup of warm tea or a delicious vegan pastry - two things she can't get enough of.

A free spirit, Lindy loves to travel and has a soft spot for Bar Harbor, Maine though she grew up at home in the South. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and bakes as often as she can for her husband, son, and pets - especially her golden retriever, Finn, who has a tendency to show up in her stories (and her Instagram!)

Lindy is represented by Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management and supported by Smith Publicity.

Member Romantic Novelist Association (RNA).

Connect:

https://twitter.com/lindywriteslove

https://www.lindymillerromance.com/

https://www.instagram.com/lindywriteslove/

https://www.facebook.com/lindywriteslove/

Spotlight: The Six Month Lease by Melanie Munton

The Six Month Lease
Melanie Munton
Publication date: August 18th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Never have I ever…moved in with a guy after dating him for only three weeks.

Just kidding. That’s exactly what I did.

And like most of you are probably thinking, it inevitably blew up in my face when we broke up two days after signing our lease.

Now, I’m stuck living with my ex. The same man who turned my life completely upside down in record time.

For. Six. Whole. Months.

It doesn’t matter how many times he flashes those abs at me after a shower, or how close his bedroom is to mine. I will resist him because he’s simply not the right guy for me.

But if I thought he’d done a number on me before, that’s nothing compared to what happens after I finally learn the secret he’s been keeping from me this entire time.

Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

We touch down on the helipad near Patriot’s Point where we left from. The slab of concrete is on the edge of the now mostly empty parking lot, the park having closed over an hour ago. The sun has lowered in the sky, painting it a pink hue with notes of orange and gold.

West does some more talking into his radio headset while going through the process of shutting the aircraft down, flipping switches and pushing buttons. After I’ve had time to take stock of everything, I realize that I’m coming down from a small adrenaline rush. My chest is heaving, my heart still racing.

Now I really get West’s love for flying. It gives you a high like no other.

Helicopter heroin.

The blades slowly stop rotating until the whooping sound of their spinning eventually ceases. West removes his headphones and unstraps himself. Then he leans over and repeats the same process with me.

But once he has my straps unbuckled, he falls back into his own seat.

Slowly removes his aviators—

And spreads his legs.

It’s only then that I notice the tent between his legs.

“Does that happen every time you fly?” I ask, my gaze lasered in on his lap. “Or is that special for me?”

“It’s always for you,” he answers roughly. “That’s the fucking problem. Nothing does it for me anymore but you. The other night when you went out for drinks with the girls, my hand could barely get the job done, even though it was your naked body I pictured in my head the entire time. It’s like nothing will satisfy except the real you.”

I tsk my tongue. “Poor baby. What do you recommend for the pain?”

He unbuckles his belt, lowers his zipper. “I just gave you a ride.” He reaches inside his briefs, palming his erection. “Now, it’s your turn to give me a nice…long…ride.”

I lick my lips unconsciously, feeling my nipples pucker underneath my breezy, linen dress. “These windows aren’t exactly tinted.”

“No one’s around,” he growls, his face reddening with burning lust. “Plus, the cockpit is facing those trees. No one can see us at this angle.”

My pulse jumps at the word cock.

Wriggling his hips, he shoves his shorts and briefs down past his manhood, freeing his rod until it’s rising straight up in the air. When he wraps his fist around the base, I flashback to how he looked handling the control stick. Gripping it so tight, his fingers absently stroking it when he was letting the aircraft coast.

My God, I never thought helicopters could be so sexual.

I’ll never be able to look at any kind of control stick the same way again.

His eyes lower to my chest. “Come sit on your throne, princess.”

Author Bio:

Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.
Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it’s boring to only stick to one sub-genre! From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.
Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

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