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Book 3: Punk Rock Resurrection (stand-alone)
My world was dark and filled with pain.
Loneliness gnawed at my soul.
I found solace in a bottle.
Music was my only refuge . . . until I met her.
She was a dark Gothic goddess in thigh-high leather boots.
She brought light into my life and showed me what it was like to be loved.
But could she handle the demons that haunted me . . . and the vices that kept them at bay?
Coming March 2. Add to your GoodReads TBR: http://bit.ly/1Ffhv2I
Book 1:The Prince of Punk Rock
I love her, but I also love him.
She’s everything to me.
He sets my world on fire.
It’s our dirty little secret, and it’s about to blow our record deal sky high.
I’m Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock, and this is our story.
Book 2: Between A Rock and A Hard Place (read after book 1)
She’s a rock goddess.
He’s a sex pistol.
I need them both, in my life and in my bed, and I’m not living without either one of them.
I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it costs me everything I’ve ever wanted.
I’m Tommy Blade, The Prince of Punk Rock, and this is the continuation of our story.
Alyssa held up her shot, and Damien held up his half-full tumbler. She clinked his glass. “That’s a pretty big shot you got there.”
“Big is an understatement. I like to use the term huge. And impressive.”
She laughed. “Oh really? Don’t set yourself up for failure”
His eyes never left hers as he took a big swig of his glass. “Don’t take my word for it. You can judge for yourself.”
She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at him with a smile pressed into her plump, crimson lips.
He finally silenced her. “What’s wrong? No comeback? No witty retort?”
“I have plenty of witty comebacks. I’m just not sure how far I want to take this tonight.”
His cock was doing back flips, and she was enjoying watching him squirm. He took another gulp of his drink, while hers remained untouched on the bar. “I thought you wanted that shot. Canât handle the hard stuff after all, huh?” He placed his empty glass on the bar and taunted her with a smile. “I bet that hard-ass exterior is really just a front. Underneath it all, I bet you’re just a girly-girl.”
Her eyes opened wide, and her face went blank. For a minute Damien thought he went too far and pissed her off. He was about to apologize, but she picked up the shot glass and drained it, then slammed it down on the bar. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him so close he felt her breath on his lips. “I’m an expert at dishing out the hard stuff. I wield a needle for a living and pierce it through raw flesh without an anesthetic. The question is, can you handle it?”
Her self-righteous smirk mocked him with playful satisfaction, but Damien was about to keel over from the overwhelming heat that covered his body. Tiny dots of perspiration broke out on his forehead, and he was starting to think that maybe she was rightâhe couldn’t handle her in the bedroom. Had he finally met his match? Could this gorgeous, ferocious woman break him? Could she be the one to make him surrender and beg for mercy?
“What’s the matter? You look a little stunned. Did I scare you?”
“Hell no.” He stepped closer. “You got me excited.”
Very Twisted Things
A Standalone Briarcrest Academy Novel #3
Author: New York Times best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills
Introductory price of $2.99 on release day for 24 hours only!
Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned.
But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems.
After being cheated on, Sebastian’s only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people.
Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who’s lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future.
He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is.
When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.
“Fairy dust is not real. This I know.” —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons
I, Violet St. Lyons, who once believed herself the luckiest girl in the world, was born on the same day that the Violette–Sells comet was discovered. My parents, two avid stargazers, said it was a sign of how special I was and promptly named me Violet. They claimed my life had been blessed with fairy dust.
At the very least, comet residue.
I’d foolishly believed it for eighteen years, until the moment of my death.
Which was now.
Boom! Another explosion rocked the plane and metal ripped away as a section of the aircraft to my right vanished. Luggage flew through the air. People disappeared. The mom with the baby who’d sat in the aisle across from us—gone. The redheaded flight attendant who’d been collecting trash—gone. Disembodied screams echoed from the surrounding passengers as my own scream took up most of the space in my head. Air sucked at us viciously from the outside as a tornado of people banged around the space and one by one got pulled out into the swirling abyss.
I watched, helplessly transfixed, as I sat between my parents, gripping each of their hands as the plane we’d boarded six hours earlier for Dublin spiraled toward the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to die. My mother was already dead, a twisted piece of shrapnel sticking grotesquely from her chest as her head lolled around her neck. Blood had already soaked her shirt, yet I refused to let go of her hand. She’d be okay. We were always okay. We were the St. Lyons family of Manhattan, an icon of old money wealth with deep political ties. Page six of the New York Times featured pictures of us on a monthly basis. We couldn’t die on a plane.
Reality dawned as we plummeted. The yellow breathing apparatus dropped and dangled in my face, taunting me with its pointlessness. Fire and black smoke boiled in front of us where the cockpit had been, and my mind recognized that the pilots had to be dead. Just a few minutes ago, they’d come over the intercom and announced that the plane was making its descent into Dublin Airport exactly on schedule.
Then the first explosion had gone off.
Bits of debris flew around, narrowly missing me. My elderly father grabbed my hand and squeezed, his face drawn back in a horrible grimace.
Paralyzed in my seat, we spun like a drunken top, and a part of my brain noticed the sun was rising, its pink tinge lending a soft glow, catching the reflection of clouds and making them silver-lined. The rocky coast of Ireland glittered in the distance. Mocking me. We’d been headed there to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.
Just then my violin case flew past my head from the overhead compartment and crashed against the wall of the plane. Shards flew. I shuddered and wanted to vomit. God, help us. We were here because of me. Our deaths were my fault. I spared a glance at the diamond promise ring Geoff had given me before we’d left.
Would the Mayor of New York’s son go on without me?
The air was turbulent yet thin, and my chest tightened as dizziness pulled at me. I resisted. Had to stay awake. Had to be with my dad. I was younger, stronger, faster. My eyes went to the gaping hole in the plane. Had to think ahead. Plan. Water would fill up the plane on impact, ensuring we’d sink rapidly.
My fear escalated as the ocean rushed at us, its surface choppy and ominous. I took in a giant breath and braced myself. We hit at an angle, the plane a torpedo as it sliced into the sea. Daddy disappeared, ejected by the impact, and I yanked on my seat belt, unclicking it to go after him. Heart thundering, I sent a final look at my mother. I wanted to take her with me, but she was gone.
Water everywhere, bubbling and gurgling as it filled up the plane. Salt water stung my eyes. People floated by, some alive as they floundered for the opening. I kept my gaze off the dead ones. Focus. Get out. Only seconds left.
I swam from my seat and fought my way out of the large hole in the plane, lungs exploding. Burning. I’d been under too long.
Daddy! I caught a glimpse of his red shirt above me and kicked harder.
Up, up, up. Must get up. My arms moved. My legs kicked. Excruciating pain. Ignore it. Almost there. So close that I could see the daylight breaking through the water.
The hottest fire I’ve ever known lit in my chest. Scorching.
Air. Just want to breathe. Just get to the top. Please.
My body rebelled and I inhaled and swallowed water, the burn racing down my throat making it spasm as I tried to cough it out. I struggled but took in more and more, the cold liquid filling my lungs.
Dark spots filled my eyes. This was drowning.
My body twitched. I grew disoriented.
I let go of the fight. My hands floated in front of me.
No bright lights, no tunnel.
No heaven, no mother, no father.
No fairy dust.
Two years later
“She was music with skin.” —Sebastian Tate
I tapped my foot.
What was taking her so long?
From my backyard patio in the Hollywood Hills, I watched the odd girl next door with a pair of high-powered binoculars. She flicked on her porch lights, and a low whistle came out of me at the sexy red-as-sin robe she wore, its silky material flashing around her long legs as she moved around. Her hair was down, too.
This was new. Where were the usual yoga pants? The ponytail?
She looked like she knew someone watched, but that was impossible since our outside lights were off. Even the light from the moon hit our house at such an angle that she shouldn’t be able to see us just by glancing over. She’d need a high-powered lens to know I was here.
Usually she played facing her rose garden, but this time she walked to the right side of her patio, which faced us. Weird. But she didn’t play. She just stood there without moving. Staring toward our house. Uneasiness went over me.
What was she doing?
Could she see me?
As if it were a fragile bird, she positioned the violin under her chin and began playing, arms bent and wrist poised, making the most exquisite sounds. And I don’t mean classical like Beethoven or Mozart; I mean body-thrashing, blood-thumping, hard-as-hell music that had me rooted to the ground, like she’d slapped iron chains on me.
Dark and seductive notes rose up in the air, and I got jacked up, recognizing a Led Zeppelin song, only she’d ripped its guts out and twisted it into something electric. She pushed the bow hard, upping the tempo abruptly, her movements controlled yet wild. My pulse kicked up and my eyes lingered, taking in the slightly parted toned legs and the way her breasts bounced as she jerked her arms to manipulate the strings.
Her robe slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her breast. Creamy and full, it quivered, vibrating as she moved her arms. Her rosy nipple teased me, slipping in and out of the folds of the material. I pictured my mouth there, sucking, my fingers plucking, strumming her like my guitar until she begged me to—
Stop, I told myself. Whoever Violin Girl was, she didn’t deserve me lusting after her while she was pouring her heart out with music.
I zoomed in as far as the binoculars would go, watching her surrender to the music as she bent and swayed from side to side with her eyes closed, black lashes like fans on her cheeks. Every molecule in my body focused on her, hanging on to each note she pulled from her instrument.
She finished and kept her head bowed for the longest time, perhaps letting the emotion wash over her like it had me.
The entire event was surreal, yet poignant as fucking poetry.
I let out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
Who the hell plays Stairway to Heaven with a violin? She did.
Bam! She snapped her head up, her eyes lasering in on mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention.
And then …
Standing there in the moonlight, she untied her robe and spread apart the sides ever so slightly, her movements seeming almost hesitant, as if she’d had to work herself up. Unfamiliar jealousy hit me and I panned out and checked the rest of the patio, expecting to see a lover. Whoever it was, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.
My gaze searched her patio, the backyard, her upstairs balcony. Nothing. No one.
She flicked her dark hair back and stroked the lapels of the robe, her fingers lingering over the lacy material. Suddenly the evening smacked of something more than just music. Her arms moved back and forth across the front, opening the robe halfway and then closing it as if she couldn’t make up her mind.
My eyes went up, trying to read her face. Still as a statue, the only movement was her mouth as it trembled, her full upper lip resting against the pouty lower one.
Violin Girl was trapped in a cage of darkness.
It still didn’t stop me from holding my breath, silently begging her to bare herself to me. She’d already laid bare her music. Part of me needed the rest of her.
She jerked the robe closed, making me groan in disappointment.
And then she did something completely crazy.
The lonely girl next door flipped me the bird.
© Ilsa Madden-Mills 2015 Very Twisted Things
Buy Very Twisted Things on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1AGPMI9
New York Times and USA Today best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She’s addicted to dystopian and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroines. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.
She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.
When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.
Sometimes silence speaks the only truth.
Ryder Hawkley swallows his words the way he swallows his guilt. A life-altering tragedy keeps him locked away in a silent prison—a self-imposed punishment for a horrific mistake. His reputation…
Alexis Honeycutt arrives at college craving one thing—independence. Now, away from home and free from her family’s overprotection, she attends a party with friends that will ultimately change her life. The moment she spots Ryder Hawkley sitting across the room, Alexis is intrigued.
Dangerous. They whisper.
The intensity shimmering from Ryder’s haunting eyes beckons her, but Alexis vows to stay away from him. Only, she can’t seem to get Ryder’s unnervingly quiet stare out of her head.
Ryder is determined to ignore Alexis’s contagious smile the instant she strolls into the room. Despite his efforts, he is drawn to her and finds himself questioning everything he’d been holding on to for the past two years.
Tears streaming down my face. Not because this book had an awful or tragic ending, but instead because it was so beautifully crafted and written. It tugged at my heartstrings and the emotional connection to the characters overwhelmed my senses and left me reeling.
Ryder doesn’t talk. He is known as a freak and a weirdo, but no one has ever taken the time to get to know him as a person. Instead, he is considered psycho and scary. What all those people know is that he is living through his own personal hell on the inside and nothing is going to change that.
Alexis just started college. Her life is starting over. She has an amazing family, an amazing boyfriend and she is going to have an amazing time at college. But when the boy who doesn’t talk catches her eye at a party, she wants to know more.
Why doesn’t he talk, why can’t he smile? Is he really a mental case or can he find his way out of this terror? Maybe, just maybe he needs a friend to just let him be…
Alexis is such a strong character in this book. She doesn’t give into the peer pressure from her friends in regards to what she is thinking and wondering where Ryder is concerned. She sees something in his eyes. She knows she does. But bringing it to the surface is going to be a big challenge. Is she up to it? She doesn’t know him, she owes him nothing, but there is something about him that she just wants to reach out to. I loved her character because though Ryder was tough on the outside, Alexis showed enough strength for both of them.
Ryder truly is, in every sense of the word, the strong and silent type. He is fighting so much from his past and has to learn to deal with it. But no one has helped him get beyond the pain yet, it may never happen. But there is something about that girl and her sunshine effect. He hates that she can see into his soul but he is desperate for her to be a part of his life.
This book just stole my breath in the very beginning. You know the story going into the story. You know the pain, the hurt and the heartache. But the love and faith in fellow human beings is something that still just squeezes the heart. By the end of the book, I wanted so much for both Ryder and Alexis. They both deserved so much, but this book is an awfully big fight to get to what could potentially be something perfect and amazing.
Once again, I find myself fan-girling all over this author. Melanie Dawn writes such passionately feeling characters with so much heart. She tackles the tough stuff and makes it hard not feel for these characters on a very emotional level. This book is a must read for me and definitely added to my favorite books list!
I cautiously reached out to him. Grasping the back of his neck, I pulled him toward me again. Despite his fury, he let himself get tugged into my space. His angry breath was hot on my face. His narrowed eyes bore holes into mine. And yet, there was something else—something indefinable.
As I ran my fingers through the soft hair around his hairline, his breathing began to slow, and the muscles in his neck began losing tension. When his lips parted, I thought he might say something. Instead, he glanced down at my lips then back up again.
My mouth suddenly felt very dry, so I licked my lips. “To be here like this with you…” I moved closer to him, closing the gap between us. “To see the steps you’re taking for me….I just…I’m sorry…I just can’t help what I’m feeling. About you. For you. With you.” I held my breath for a second, partly thinking he’d fling me off of him and bolt for the door. But he didn’t.
Instead, he reached up and curled a strand of my hair around his index finger, gently tucking it behind my ear. I watched out of the corner of my eye, anticipating the moment his fingers would graze my skin. When his forefinger brushed against the edge of my ear lobe, I shivered beneath his touch. A flash of heat pulsed through my body, lighting my insides on fire. The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. Every nerve ending on my skin ached to be touched by his gentle fingers. He must have noticed me quivering because his stormy, brooding eyes flicked toward the delicate skin of my neck, where I could feel my heartbeat pounding in the hollow crevice between my collarbones.
The way he looked at me, craving something and yet denying himself the pleasure, made me feel light-headed. Kiss me already, my mind demanded. He looked at me like he could do much more than kiss me. The quickening I felt down below was proof that I’d let him.
Melanie Dawn is a thinker, a dreamer, and a hopeless romantic. She’s an avid reader who recently discovered her love of writing as well. When her head isn’t in the clouds, she spends her time as a a jack of all trades to her family. Melanie resides in the hills of North Carolina with her husband, her three children, and her cat.
Blue Colla Make Ya Holla Box Set
Ten novellas featuring sexy blue collar men.
Brand new stories – never before released!
March 1, 2015
Laramie Briscoe (Amazon Best Selling Author of the Heaven Hill Series)
Title: Hot, Summer Nights
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Dirt Track Racer
Chelsea Camaron (Amazon Best Selling Author of the Hellions Series)
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Oil Rigger
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Motorcycle Fabricator & Airbrusher
Title: Nobody But You
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Tattoo Artist
Title: Never to Hope
Heat Level: Very Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Road Crew Worker
Title: Rebound Biker
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Construction Worker
Title: Rescuing the Bridesmaid
Heat Level: Moderately Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Tow Truck Driver
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Roofer
Title: Defending Her Turf
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Owner of a Landscaping Business
Title: Rough Patch (Heaven Hill Series 6.5 – Jagger)
Heat Level: Steamy
Blue Collar Hero: Mechanic
Purchase the Book!
Three people. Three motives. Three reasons.
When the game leaves the field in the second book in the USA Today bestselling BY HIS GAME series and mixes with sex, lies, and betrayal, the future isn’t the only thing on the line…
Macey Kelly has sworn off men. Unless they’re going to zip in and out of her apartment—and her vagina—quicker than they can give her an orgasm, she’s not interested. Finding out her boyfriend of three years got her cousin pregnant was a total confidence knock. Luckily for Macey, confidence is
something she has in abundance, so all Mitch’s asshole move did was make her pretty cynical toward men.
The last thing Jack Carr needs at the start of the season is for a dark-haired, sexy as sin, gyspyesque beauty to be consuming his thoughts. Football is his life, which leaves no time for girls. Unless they’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em girls. Becoming one of the best running backs the league has ever seen by racking up the yards is his top priority… not bedding Macey Kelly, despite her affinity for blow jobs and total sexual abandon.
Avoiding each other is the perfect solution, but when your best friends are in a serious living together kind of relationship, that isn’t always an option. Sometimes, sex on tap is the easiest option. And the sweetest.
Until Mitch shows up with a bombshell that could shatter Macey’s perfectly carved out life. It’s been a year, but he isn’t giving her up, not now he has a chance at winning her back. And he knows her buttons. Every single one of them.
Unfortunately for him, Jack Carr isn’t a loser. The star running back has his eye on the Vince Lombardi—and on Macey. But seeing her hanging between them both isn’t something he’s down with, not when he discovers why she’s so against anything more-ish, as she puts it.Macey quickly realizes she’s the ball being passed between two desperate yet opposing teams, and that only one of them can score the touchdown. But will the winner be the guy she lived with and loved for three years, or will the winner be the guy who understands her and makes her body come alive?
In this game, someone will be sidelined, and calling the play isn’t always as easy as it seems.
(SIDELINED is a full-length, standalone novel. It’s not necessary to read BLINDSIDED before this book, but it is advised.)
“You remember to write down the orange juice one?”
“No, actually. I forgot.”
He licks his fingers and comes over. I kick a little more frantically, because, well, explaining them is going to be awkward. Jack grabs my pen and the orange pad and scribbles on it.
Note to self: Get a second carton of OJ for Jack.
“Noted.” I pull the square off the pad and drop it on the floor with the others.
“Why is my name on the pink notes?”
“And Mitch’s on the yellow?” He turns toward me. His face is dangerously close to mine, and there’s a glint in his eyes that… Well, I don’t know what it is, but it sure as fuck isn’t good.
“I was…drawing up a pros-and-cons list,” I mutter.
“Seems to be a helluva lot more yellow than pink, baby.”
“Well, in my defense, half of Mitch’s say ‘fucked my cousin,’ which adds to his total.” I smile weakly.
“All right, I think I’m gonna regret askin’ this.” Jack sits up straight. “Why are you making pros-and-cons lists?”
I open my mouth and close it again. Shit. I was kind of hoping to avoid this conversation.
“Promise you won’t get mad,” I say softly, looking down.
“M, talk to me.”
“I…” I swallow, sensing that that’s the closest to an agreement I’m going to get. “I saw Mitch earlier.”
I wait, but Jack says silent.
“I asked him why he was outside my apartment yesterday.”
“Doesn’t take a fuckin’ genius to work it out,” Jack grinds out.
“He wants me back.” I look at the TV. “He…doesn’t seem to understand that I’m not in love with him.”
“You sure about that, Macey?”
I frown, snapping my eyes to Jack, who’s now leaning against the table. “Of course I’m sure!”
“Yeah? ‘Cause you don’t seem to hesitate running to him when he comes knockin’ at your door.”
“What are you saying?” I stand up slowly, my stomach twisting at his words and the implications of them.
“According to you, he broke your heart so fucking badly that you hate him. Yet, when he knocks at your door or hangs out outside your apartment, you’re not exactly hesitant when it comes to runnin’ after him to see what the fuck he wants. Yet you can’t call me.” Jack turns slowly. “That’s what I’m fuckin’ saying.”
“According to me?” The words fall from me in disbelief. “According to me? You think I want him here, fucking with me again? You think I want to sit there and listen to him declare his seemingly endless love for me while begging me in the same breath to give him another goddamn chance?”
Jack pushes off from the table and walks to the door. His fingers curl around the handle and he looks at me, his green eyes on fire, so angry that they’re sending tremors through my body. “You answer him?”
“He begged for another chance. Did. You. Fucking. Answer. Him?”
She takes my breath away; she is so beautifully damaged.
Yes I had broken her, ravished her life, destroyed her happiness. I brought her to ultimate despair. I was responsible for all the pain and suffering that now brought her to her knees in front of me.
Reckless in her agony.
She is a mirror of my own tortured soul.
But what I took away I can give back.
In ways she cannot even begin to imagine.
She is everything right in all my wrongs.
She loves me. She needs me.
She has no idea I’m the one who wrecked her life.
Oh boy… this book was so depressing for me to read. It didn’t mean that I didn’t appreciate it or enjoy it. It just wasn’t full of rainbows and butterflies. It was filled with grief and heartache and so many powerful emotions. Vandal ruined his world, he ruined her world. But nothing keeps him from what he wants and right now, he wants her.
I am not going to tell you that this book is warm and fuzzy and all that romantic stuff. It is about healing and finding what works for you. It is about accepting the past and learning to live again for the future. It is about testing limits and breaking boundaries. It is heartbreaking and healing.
There is a big “what the?!?!” moment in this book and you just wonder about the entire story. It is a beautiful story and a beautiful struggle but these two characters are so broken. I had a hard time accepting that Vandal was really going to fix her and the world that he broke. I had a hard time understanding how he was supposed to fix her world when his was spinning out of control.
But the beauty of it is that they are slowly healing one another. But there is a whole layer that is still not showing. Secrets. She doesn’t know who he is or what he has done. She doesn’t know that her world crumbled because of him…
This book is full of pain and drama and hurt and healing. But I wouldn’t trade the experience of reading it. It is a good read and a touching story.
Barnes and Noble: Pending
(Storm, book 1 in ASHES AND EMBERS)
I have a passion for the bad boys, those covered in tattoos, sexy smirks, ripped jeans, fast cars, motorcycles and of course, the sweet girls that try to tame them and win their hearts. My debut series, Ashes & Embers, follows the lives of rock band members as they find, and sometimes lose, the loves of their lives.
My first novel in the Ashes & Embers series, Storm, published on September of 2014. Vandal, the second novel in this series is publishing in February of 2015. I currently have approximately nine books slated for this series, as well as an MC series in the works, and a few stand-alones coming in 2015 onward.
Born and raised a Jersey girl, I now reside in beautiful New Hampshire with my husband and our multitude of furry pets and spend most of my time writing, reading, and vacuuming.
Enter Carian’s giveaway!!
Hunter Dennison has been an overachiever in all aspects of his life. He knows what he wants and goes after it, and he intends to follow suit in his love life with the young and beautiful Molly. His patience is at its last resolve as he waits for her to come of age, but finally the time has arrived, and he prepares to tell Molly how he feels.
What he doesn’t know is that someone else has set their own selfish agenda into motion, wreaking havoc on Hunter’s intentions and his confidence in Molly’s character.
Believing the vicious lies, Hunter veers off his planned path. He finds solace and comfort in another’s arms, never realizing that he leaves in his wake a devastated Molly.
However, fate cannot be fooled.
Now, twenty years later, they both have settled into their own lives in Clearwater Falls. Hunter intends to rectify the past by letting Molly know that she is the one he wants now, just as he had wanted then.
Can passion all these years in the making overcome the weight of regret that they both carry? Or will the price of their previous mistakes leave an insurmountable divide in their chance at forever?
WARNING: Recommended for adult readers (18+) only. Mature themes, strong language, and sexual content.
I live in New England with my young family. I’m a stay at home mom to two very active children. For all of you who are familiar with the stress of this job, I decided to complete an item on my bucket list and write a book. When I’m not writing, you will find me cooking, reading, shopping or being silly with the kids. In my opinion, one of life’s greatest pleasure is being able to get lost in a book.