Kane Epps divides his life into two distinct parts—before the alien invasion and after. #giveaway tour stop #SciFi #romance @AMGriffinBooks


Sci-Fi Romance
Date Published: June 6, 2017

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Kane Epps divides his life into two distinct parts—before the alien invasion and after. Before the invasion, he had a pregnant wife and a high-powered job. After the invasion, he’s left with only himself and his hatred for all things alien. He channels his bitterness by captaining a vessel of renegade humans—space pirates who don’t think twice about taking what they need. 
Princess Sa’Mya is on the run. She and a few trusted advisers fled her home planet only to be captured by the sexy, dangerous Captain Epps. He claims to hate aliens but can’t seem to resist touching her or kissing her…everywhere. As Kane introduces Sa’Mya to ever-increasing, unimaginable realms of pleasure, the princess becomes determined to earn his trust. She’s used to getting what she wants. And this time, what she wants is Kane Epps. 

Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published by Ellora’s Case under the title Dangerously Yours and has been revised for re-publish by the Author.

Reader Advisory: This space-opera romance contains some good old-fashioned voyeurism.

Read an excerpt


Holding tight to his wife’s hand, Kane pulled her along. She stumbled behind him, tripping on rubble, debris and concrete. He cast his eyes toward the large metallic spacecraft sitting low in the sky above New York City, blocking out the sun and moon, bathing everyone in perpetual darkness. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was three twenty-one p.m.
Anna’s pace slowed before stopping altogether. Leaning over, she took gulping breaths.
“Come on, baby,” he coaxed gently. “I know you’re tired but we have to keep moving.”
“I’m trying to.” Anna’s chest heaved in and out.
Her dirty-blonde bangs clung to her flushed forehead. The maternity jeans she had thrown on when they were forced to leave their brownstone were now torn and covered in dirt. Her too-small maternity shirt stretched over her pregnant abdomen. And after all this time, his clothes weren’t any better.
His gaze lingered on her fragile form. His heart lurched in his chest. The dark freckles dotting her face leaped out in contrast to her pale skin. She needed food, water and rest. Now. He blew out a heavy sigh. That’s not going to happen anytime soon, he thought, taking in his surroundings.
Through the darkness, he caught a glimpse of his companions. The group of seventeen men, women and children continued forward on their pursuit across the city without even a backward glance to where he and Anna lagged behind, again. The group of survivors should’ve been able to cover more ground than they had. But their pace slowed considerably to account for Anna being eight-and-a-half-months pregnant. Thanks to the in vitro fertilization, she was pregnant with twins.
The delirious thought almost made him laugh out loud. They had spent nearly thirty thousand dollars to get pregnant and a few months later, hostile aliens had invaded Earth.
He tore his gaze away from the group and studied Anna. She propped herself against a broken street sign. She coughed as she breathed in the contaminants of the air.
A high pitched wheezing sound came from her lungs with every labored breath that she took. Sweat dripped from her forehead to her brow. One hand held the side of her head and the other rested on the side of her belly. Although she hadn't said anything, he could tell she was more swollen today than yesterday.
He placed a hand over her extended belly. “How are the babies?”
He didn’t know much but he did know the babies should have been moving under their touch. The lack of movement confirmed Anna couldn’t continue any longer. It was too risky.
“They’re fine,” she said between pants.
Not believing her, he shook his head. “We have to st—”
Anna cradled his chin, bringing his face to look at her. “Kane, I can do this.”
Although determination was written across her features, he didn’t think she could go on for a few more minutes let alone hours. Breaking eye contact, he worked the knapsack off her back. He slung it over his shoulder along with his and scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her protests. Her pregnant weight made his muscles flex tighter around her.
She stroked the side of his cheek. “Kane.”
He looked down into worried hazel eyes. “What?”
“You can't carry me forever.”
“Only for a little while. We need to keep moving, baby.”
She buried her head onto his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too, always.”
She brought her head up to him again. A slight smile played on her lips. “Even though I’m chunky and fat?”
“You’re pregnant and healthy.” He followed the trail of the survivors. Their backs came in and out of view as the group traversed up and around large slabs of concrete that had once been paved city streets.
She gave his biceps a light pat. “Nice save, counselor,” she teased weakly.
“That’s me, Kane Epps, esquire. I can talk my way out of the hairiest of situations.”
Her playfulness slowly disappeared as she scanned the horizon. “I wish you could’ve negotiated us out of this one.”
Kane’s gaze followed hers, catching sight of the Statue of Liberty in the distant horizon, toppled on its side.
In less than a week of their arrival, the aliens had wreaked havoc on Earth. Crumbled buildings lay in heaps all around them. Alien weapons uprooted city streets. Alien bombs leveled countries. Alien technology disrupted communication, television, phones and radios. U.S. military forces were swatted down as though they were flies.
Now, three months later, humans scavenged for basic necessities.
“We’re going to be fine.” His voice came out tight and hard.
Anna rubbed his chest. “I know.” Her reassurance and faith in him sent waves of tenderness through his heart. “You’ll take care of me.”
Right. He would take care of her.
Two hours later, he began to stumble. When his knee dropped to the ground, he got up and gathered a protesting Anna back into his arms. His jeans no longer offered a buffer between his knees and the concrete, as evidenced by a bloody smear left as he’d stumbled to his feet. Each time he fell he had a harder time getting up and continuing.
His knee hit the ground again, landing on broken concrete. He let his head fall forward as he bit back a gasp of pain. A bead of sweat ran from his short, white-blond hair down the bridge of his nose, where it lingered before finally dripping to the ground. Closing his eyes, he willed the pain away, clasping Anna tight to him. With renewed energy, Anna worked to pry his hands from her arms and legs in an effort to free herself.
When he wouldn’t release her, she pleaded, “Honey. Let me go. I can walk now.”
“No. I can do this.” He fought the urge to look at her, fearing if he did she would see the pain that shone in in his eyes.
“Kane. Look at me,” Anna pleaded softly. Reluctantly, he obeyed. “You need to let me walk.”
“You can't.”
“I have to.” She shook her head in determination. “I can't let you kill yourself. Let me go.”
“Never. I love you.”
Anna let out an irritated sigh. “I love you too, but so help me God, if you break a leg trying to carry me, I will kill you.”
His feisty pixie was back. Kane let her slide from his weary arms to her steady feet. He wanted to stay with the group. Safety in numbers sat better with him. But he also needed to rest and couldn’t risk losing his wife or babies. The pace the group had set was grueling.
It’s not as if the group would miss them or anything. The survivors would probably welcome losing the dead weight. It was Anna he feared wouldn’t take the news too lightly.
Prepared for a fight, he fixed his stare on her. “Baby, I think we need to find a place to hide for the night.”
Her gaze went from him to the retreating group. “But…but what about them?”
“We’re going to go on our own.”
“Oh Kane.” Her lips began to tremble. Tears fell as he squeezed her hand in his. “We can’t get separated from another group. Let me at least try to walk.”
He kissed her dirty, pale cheeks. “No, baby. I won't risk it. You and the babies mean more to me than they do. We can hide in one of the abandoned houses.”
He pulled her in a tight embrace. He would do anything for her. Keeping her safe had become his number-one priority.
She shook her head almost hysterically. “That group we saw a week ago said the aliens are hunting humans and taking them away. I don’t want to get caught. What’ll happen to us? What if the aliens are using humans as sex slaves?” She inhaled sharply. “Or worse… What if they’re going to eat us? What if—”
“Don’t start that. Those people don’t know what’s going on any more than we do. We’ll stay hidden. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He ran his hand across her brow, wiping the long bangs away from her red-rimmed eyes.
“What about the others?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Do you think we’ll be able to catch up with them tomorrow?” She grimaced and rubbed her belly again.
“Yeah, we can do that.” He had to make her believe the lie. Whatever the case, they would never see them again.
It took more than an hour but they finally found a house safe enough to enter without the fear it would crumble around them. Although the modest brownstone leaned precariously on its side, it would do for the night.
Kane entered, kicking the debris out of his way, Anna’s limp hand planted firmly in his. The smell of mildew and decay overrode his senses. The dirt that caked the furniture told of its abandonment. Dust wafted through the air, stirring with each step they took. Her dainty hand that covered her nose and mouth did nothing to keep it from settling in her lungs. Anna coughed as he led her through to the living room.
“Here, sit down. I’m going to check the kitchen for food and bottled water.” He let her go, settling her in front of a loveseat, the only piece of furniture in the room that didn’t look as if it would break apart under her pregnant weight. “Don’t go anywhere.” He didn’t want her exploring before he could make sure the structure was safe.
He propped the two knapsacks next to her. His jangled and clanked as he set it down. Hers made a soft rustling noise. As alien bombs had rained from the sky and life as they knew was no more, he had grabbed supplies and tools needed for survival, while she had wasted precious time taking pictures out of frames and photo albums.
Anna’s warm smile was meant only for him as she eased onto the dirty loveseat, pulling the knapsacks closer to her. “You can't get rid of me that easily.”
He couldn’t help but return her smile. This was why he loved her. Even in this, she still had her sense of humor.
He strode purposely through the double swinging kitchen doors and headed straight to the cabinets. He wanted to let out a frustrated scream as he flung open each one. Empty. Every cabinet he opened, empty. He frantically scanned the room, locking on what he sought.
The pantry.
He made it to the door and swung it open. Empty.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
His knees buckled underneath his weight. He grabbed the doorframe with a shaky grip. Anna needed to eat. She was already too weak to go on.
His mind raced as perspiration formed across his brow.
Calm the fuck down.
He needed to stay in control or they were sure to die.
How long since she last ate? Last night? What about water? This morning? Or was it yesterday morning? Shit.
He gripped the doorframe harder. There was something about the rule of three. What was it? Humans can live for three weeks without food, three days without water and three minutes without air. Past three and you’re dead. What about pregnant women?
Whiz, boom! A high-pitched screeching cut through the air outside.
The house shook and rumbled as it was hit. Kane watched in slow motion as the appliances on the countertop jostled and fell over. Seconds slowly ticked by as a glass coffeepot hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces on impact. A large mixer bowl fell to its side and rolled across the countertop. Kane’s heart stopped.
They’re here.
“Kane! What’s happening?” Anna shrieked from the other room.
Snapping back to reality, he jerked upright. “Anna! We have to get out of here now! The house is falling apart.” He bolted into the kitchen, pushing a dinette table out of the way and jumping over the chairs.
“I’m afraid.”
He found Anna curled against the cushions, as if sinking into them would save her from the attack.
Whiz, boom! A loud noise slammed across his brain. His hands flew to his ears and his jaw tensed shut. The house splintered and creaked around them. It could fall at any moment.
A cloud of dust crept ominously through the air, emerging from the back rooms, heading straight to them. Anna’s coughing racked her body as the heavy cloud billowed through the hall to the living room.
“Come on, baby. We have to get moving. Now!” Dust mixed with something acidic burned his throat with each breath he took.
He tried pulling her from the couch. She stayed planted in her seat. Her dazed eyes darted from side to side. She wouldn’t budge.
“We have to hurry before the house collapses!” He tried to get through to her.
After one blink, then two, she finally focused on him, put her feet on the floor and leaned forward. He pulled both of her hands, lifting her off the couch. Anna stumbled to stand.
“Our bags.” Tugging away from his grasp, she reached for them.
“Leave them!”
With a shake of her head, she scrambled to retrieve the bags. Kane snatched them out of her grasp and pulled her behind him. No more wasting time, they needed to get out of this death trap.
He stopped short at the door. His hand froze on the doorknob.
This is exactly what these bastards want.
Ignoring the heavy beating of his heart, the heavy pants from his lungs…he listened. Anna’s breaths were harder and heavier than his. Beside that…silence. He strained his ears to listen for any whizzing sounds, the telltale sign of a spacecraft above.
“Did they leave?” Anna asked in a hope-filled whisper from behind his shoulder.
“I’m not certain.”
He dared not move. They could still be out there, waiting.
“I think they’re gone. I don’t hear anything.” Relief was apparent in her voice as she stepped away from him. He watched her ease onto one of the broken stairs. “My stomach is hurting.” She lay back on her elbows, rubbing her oversized belly.
“Stay put. Try to stay calm. Once I know for sure that they’re gone, I’ll go out and find you some food and water.” He peered through the peephole of the door.
Where are those bastards?
“I don’t want you to leave me here alone. What if they come back?”
“You need water.” He gave her a reassuring half-smile before turning to the peephole. “Plus, you’re not getting rid of me that ea—”
A roar deafened his ears. Wood, metal and plaster erupted through the air. Direct hit.
Pain shot through him as debris rained down. His hands flew up to protect his face. He dropped to the floor, rolling to a fetal position. The house creaked and rocked around him.
He strained to open his eyes. Dust settled in them and burned. He snapped them shut.
“Anna!”
No answer. A dull ache thrummed in his ears.
Inhaling a lung full of dust, Kane coughed. “Anna! Come to me.” He threw out his hand, grasping at air. “We have to get out of here!”
Nothing.
He forced his eyes open. A cloud of dust obstructed his vision. The outline of the caved-in roof was the first thing he saw. He willed himself to a standing position and stumbled forward with outstretched arms. If he found the stairs he would find Anna.
“Anna! Anna! Answer me!”
His shoe brushed against something soft. Anna? His heart dropped to his stomach. Where would he find a doctor? What if she needed medical help? He grabbed at it.
An arm.
Anna.
Dropping to his knees, he frantically pushed the wood planks and shingles from her body, throwing debris in every direction.
Anna, please baby, be okay.
He pushed a piece of drywall off of her. His gaze settled on the broken body lying sprawled at an odd angle.
“Nooooo!” He gathered the remains of his wife’s charred, limp body. “Please God! No!”




About the Author



A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

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A love story that will haunt you #FlashbackFriday What's hidden in this spooky place? #erotic #romance @HotInkBooks

When Cathy Faraday goes out from her office to buy morning tea, a set of circumstances send her on a different route from the one she would normally take. Waiting on a street unknown to her is a house. Old and left to fade away the house looks shabby against its neighbors. The whole row of houses are now offices and Cathy sees a ‘for let sign’ outside the place. Something draws her to the house. Someone watches from the third floor window.
Cathy applies to rent the building to expand her dating agency business. As she begins to make it ready, the house reveals its secrets.
Erotic paranormal romance, set in contemporary England this story will haunt you.


Graphic sex/love scenes. 18+ only. 

#FlashbackFriday Teaser 

She locked the front door behind her and walked up the stairs.

Owen was sitting on the edge of the single piece of furniture covered by a dustsheet when she walked in. She’d seen the item and realized it was a couch or similar item. She went to him.

He stood held her head and kissed her.

She pulled at his t-shirt and he helped her take it off. Cathy’s heart pounded as she ran her hands along his muscled chest and kissed down his chest to his stomach. His low-rise jeans showed the shape of his lean hips and a thin line of hair going down his stomach. She looked up into his eyes as she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his ankles. She kissed and licked down his stomach and then along his delicious hard cock.

She hadn’t noticed before, but he was wearing slide on shoes with no socks, and now she got him to step out of his clothes and shoes, until he was naked before her. His huge erection sprang away from his muscled stomach. She looked into his eyes as she kissed him and grasped his cock.

Owen groaned. “Take off your clothes, now, Cathy.” He stopped her kissing him. “No more kisses until you’re naked. I want you naked.”

His words made her throb with pleasure between her legs and her nipples hardened.

He took her t-shirt off and then her bra and dropped them gently to the floor.

She unzipped her jeans and began to push them down. Owen knelt and pulled them down to her ankles. He put his fingers into the side of her panties and then kissed her stomach before he took hold of the front with his teeth and pulled them down slowly, his fingers sliding down her thighs and his lips brushing against her mound until she was rocking her hips wanting his mouth on her clit.

Cathy closed her eyes and let the feelings flow over her. She wanted his tongue inside her, his fingers too, she wanted to suck his cock until he groaned and thrust into her. The need for sex had never been so urgent and so intense.

He stood and lifted her onto his knee as he sat on the chaise longue behind him.

She felt his hard thighs against her ass and he pressed her backward over his knee.

He took off her pull-on boots and then finished taking off her jeans and panties.

Cathy wanted his kiss and tried to sit up to reach his mouth, but he gently pushed her down and bent his head to kiss her stomach as he slipped a finger into her pussy. Cathy caught her breath. The feeling of his finger inside her and his mouth on her stomach completely overwhelmed her. She bucked her hips involuntarily to his hand and moaned as he pushed another finger into her. He lifted her then with his other hand around her shoulders to kiss her mouth. Cathy felt his fingers go deeper and she sighed into his mouth, the pleasure so great she couldn’t kiss him. All she could do was move to his gentle pumping and let him kiss her lips and slide his tongue against hers.
She tried to reach his cock, but couldn’t, and so she held his face to hers as he fingered her, kissing her every time she moaned.

“What do you want, Cathy?” He whispered.

She traced her fingertips over his shoulders and his chest.

“Tell me.”

In a fog of desire, she couldn’t form the words.

He pressed his thumb on her clit, and she savored the feel of his hand between her legs as his fingers moved in and out of her pussy. She could hardly breathe for the sheer bliss of his lips on hers. His other hand around her body to keep her where he wanted her, gave her such pleasure, she felt heavy with lust.
“I want you. I want you so much…”

“Tell me again, tell me…”
 Owen kissed her, and it was so good, so sexy, she felt her pussy throb where his fingers were. She’d never felt so wet. She didn’t want it to end.
“I want your cock in me. I want…”

Owen kissed her and took his fingers from her. She moaned softly wanting them back.

He kissed her again tenderly.

Cathy held his face and kissed him urgently.

He lifted her and moved her to straddle him. “Put my cock into you, slowly, kiss me, and sit down onto me slowly … let me feel every little move.”

She put her hand down to grasp his thick rock hard cock. It was exotic to hold him. She sighed against his lips.

He kissed her, moving his mouth on hers, softly, tantalizingly.

She guided his cock into her and sat slowly the way he’d said. As she took him into her pussy, the feel of his cock sliding against her clit and filling her slowly made her moan against his mouth.

He groaned and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. Then as she leaned her head back slightly, he bit gently on her throat.
They stopped to breathe against each other’s face before Cathy began to ride him.
He helped her, his hands on her hips, and he bent his head to suck her breasts into his mouth, one after the other until the nipples were wet and standing out for him.
Cathy felt as if she would melt away completely. She couldn’t remember anything feeling so delicious.

“This is the best feeling ever…” She murmured against his mouth.
“I feel that way, too.” Owen sucked on her ear lobe and she gasped.

She felt her orgasm start in her clit, and held Owen around the neck kissing him hard as it burst through her in intense waves of sensation. It made her breathless. She couldn’t stop thrusting, wanting it to go on. She slowed as the delicious orgasm waned.

Owen softened his kiss on her lips as he took hold of her hips and thrust hard up into her. He groaned against her mouth as his orgasm shook him with its intensity.
Copyright Elodie Parkes , Second edition The Old Star, 2017, Hot Ink Press
The Old Star
Romantic erotic PNR on kindle unlimited 

Release day #MMromance 'Given Time' @evernightpub and E.D.Parr #gayromance #GLBT Love is Love

From Evernight Publishing and E.D.Parr, a gay romance, a love story with a difference ... 

Given Time
Music video maker, Angel Starc is about to board a plane to Paris when he receives some sudden sad news. It takes him hurrying back to his childhood home after two years away, estranged from his older brother, Rory.
Angel is amazed and filled with guilt when that night he meets the only man he’s found romantically attractive in a long time. How can it be right? He should only be filled with sorrow, but gorgeous, caring Matt Loewe wraps him in a blanket of comfort and love that heals Angel’s troubled soul. 
Delectable, artist, Matt Loewe, follows his hunches and his heart. He’s been looking for love and Angel ignites an addictive passion in him.
As the two men fall deep in love they provide each other with the care needed to come to terms with their past anxieties. 

(Contains anal M/M sex, frottage, gay partner oral sex, masturbation)




Be teased
He kissed Matt, gently, soaking up the feel of Matt’s skin against his nose. He thrust his hips so that his lower body crushed on Matt’s and the unmistakable shape of Matt’s cock, hard and bulging in his pants met Angel’s cock. A low groan escaped Angel and he deepened the kiss, clinging to Matt, as his legs weakened and his heart pounded.

Matt pushed his arms around Angel’s neck, and Angel’s hands fell away from the grip on his shoulders. Matt’s murmur penetrated Angel’s haze of pleasure. “I can’t even think straight, but I know I want you naked in my arms.” He rained kisses on Angel’s mouth.

Angel pushed his hands between their bodies. He traced Matt’s erection with his fingertips and then cupped it in his palm, pressing against the fabric of Matt’s pants.


Matt’s groan on Angel’s lips sent a shock of desire through his balls.

Copyright E.D.Parr 2017 Evernight Publishing 
BUY the BOOK 


This may be their only chance to vanquish the specters--if they survive the storm. #PNR #giveaway tour stop @Cmoleti

STORM WATCH
Unfinished Business series, book 3
by Carole Ann Moleti

Genre: Light Paranormal Romance
Cover Designer: Wren Taylor




Mike and Liz thought they'd gotten control of the specters haunting the Barrett Inn. But things get very complicated when they're the ghosts from your past life. The Category Five Hurricane bearing down on Cape Cod appears to be headed directly for them--or has it been spawned from inside them? This may be their only chance to vanquish the specters--if they survive the storm.



Mike and Liz had survived the first round, and they’d remained hopeful the specters would settle down. But there was enough unfinished business for any cosmic disturbance to rile them up again. This storm watch was more than just a minor blip on the radar—or a coincidence. 

Noisy seagulls hunted as the storm with enough power to blow them to Rhode Island threatened. Mike rolled his shoulders, flexing the stiff muscles in his back, trying to imagine he could shed his wife and his son to escape the gaping jaws of Captain Edward Barrett’s legacy. Normally a lingering vague threat, it rubbed him raw at moments like this when he had nothing to do but wait for the bay to come in around him so he could go out and make a living. 

He rinsed his hands in a tide pool. The shadow sent hermit crabs scurrying. Brine stung his knuckles but stopped the oozing with that invisible layer of stickiness every saltwater fisherman learns to love. An incoming tide rolled across the flats as the storm clouds amassed.

The boat teeter-tottered on its keel as Mike climbed aboard and settled into a seat. Reassured by the glimmering water rippling in to release him from bondage, he readied his fishing gear. Chants of “ohmmmmm” from morning beach yoga carried in the breeze. At least that was connection with living spirits, as opposed to the dead, stale vestiges of lives ended too soon who were unable to give up and let go. 

A woman out for an early morning walk grew larger and larger. Her broad brimmed hat dipped so low over her eyes he couldn’t see her face, though her skinny legs, matchstick arms, and pigeon chest were unmistakable once she’d emerged from the glare. That, the jangling earrings, and the purple and pink broomstick skirt hitched up and secured with a silver belt. 

“Good morning, Mike.” Always oppositional, Sandra was headed out when everyone was on their way back. 

“Where’re you going, Sandra? Tide’s coming in.”

She flipped up the floppy brim and grinned. “I’m headed over to check on Harley.” 

The Whaler rocked in the surf. “Should be ready to roll in about twenty minutes. I’ll give you a ride over.” 

Sandra didn’t break stride. “That’s okay. I’ll be sitting on the beach with the old buzzard before you even pull up anchor.” 

They were both oddballs: He, wearing a Red Sox cap, a scruffy beard, a black tee shirt showing a bit of belly, while sitting like a bum in a beached boat. Sandra, like an escapee from a Harry Potter novel, headed over to check on a ninety-six-year-old hermit who lived on a dune that was cut off from the mainland at high tide.









Liz Levine is convinced her recently deceased husband is engineering the sequence of events that propels her into a new life. But it’s sea captain Edward Barrett, the husband that died over a century ago, who has returned to complete their unfinished business. Edward’s lingering presence complicates all her plans and jeopardizes a new relationship that reawakens her passion for life and love. What are Captain Barrett’s plans for his wife, and for the man who is the new object of her affections?





Mike and Liz Keeny are newlyweds, new parents, and the proprietors of the Barrett Inn, an 1875 Victorian on Cape Cod, which just happens to be haunted— by their own ghosts from past lives. The Barrett Inn had become an annex of Purgatory, putting Liz and their infant son in danger. Selling the historic seaside bed and breakfast was the only answer, one that Liz and her own tortured specter refused to consider. Were Mike and Liz doomed to follow the same path that led to disaster in their previous lives? Was getting out, getting away, enough?







Carole Ann Moleti lives and works as a nurse-midwife in New York City, thus explaining her fascination with all things paranormal, urban fantasy, and space opera. Her nonfiction focuses on health care, politics, and women's issues. But her first love is writing science fiction and fantasy because walking through walls is less painful than running into them.

Books One and Two in the Unfinished Business series, Carole's Cape Cod paranormal romance novels, Breakwater Beach and The Widow's Walk, were published by Soulmate. Book Three, Storm Watch, is due out June 28,2017. 

Urban fantasies set in the world of Carole's novels have been featured in Haunted: Ten Tales of Ghosts, Seers: Ten Tales of Clairvoyance, Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft, and Bites: Ten Tales of Vampires.

Carole also writes nonfiction that ranges from sweet and sentimental in This Path and Thanksgiving to Christmas to edgy and irreverent in the Not Your Mother's Books: On Being a Mother and On Being a Parent.

Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon ✯ Blog ✯ Pinterest ✯ G+


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Fab @JoyaRyanAuthor makes a #giveaway tour stop with new release #westernromance from @entangledpub The Rancher and the City Girl

THE RANCHER AND THE CITY GIRL
Tempting the Rancher, book 1
by Joya Ryan
Genre: Contemporary Romance


Rancher and single father Reed Montgomery is a master at French braiding and princess tea parties. He’s also the most eligible bachelor in Cheyenne, Wyoming. So when he stumbles upon a flashy, sexy city girl, he knows two things: 1) she’s a walking disaster, and 2) he needs to stay far, far away.

But she needs him more than he wants to admit…

Charlotte Gram knows what it’s like not to be wanted. She’s in Cheyenne for the summer to help her grandmother heal after surgery, but the farmhouse “chores” are proving much harder than she thought. If her day couldn’t get any worse, the sexiest man she’s ever seen strolls up to save the day...
...and he definitely doesn’t seem happy about it.



“You are the worst car in this hellhole town and I swear—to—God…” Charlotte Gram kicked the driver-side tire of her rental car with her favorite stiletto. The dry summer air blew hot against her skin, and a small film of dust settled on her neck.

Gross.

Was dust a thing out here?

She was used to the Los Angeles smog and clutters of asshole people. She’d never thought she’d step foot in Wyoming. Ever. But this was the prairie state her grandmother had chosen to retire in, so that’s where Charlotte needed to be.

Wilma Gram had moved to Cheyenne five years ago when she’d inherited her family farm. Something about a great-uncle who had died and left it to her. Apparently Grammy took really well to the country life, because even at seventy-plus years old, she was thriving. Up until this summer, at least. She’d needed ankle surgery that would leave her in a cast.

With Charlotte the only one left who stayed in touch with Grammy, it was up to her to see the older woman through her recovery. Which meant several weeks of summer in this tiny town, working remotely from the house, and attempting to help Grammy run the farm and all the chores that went with it.

Not Charlotte’s specialty.

Still, a simple enough plan.

She could continue building websites, earn a living, and get back to her life in L.A. in no time. Besides, it wasn’t like her grandma had a massive farm operation…she didn’t think. Charlotte hadn’t gotten out to visit the great state of Wyoming since Grammy had settled in. Between building her career and surviving a string of bad relationships, Charlotte was happy just keeping her head above water and being the forever bachelorette.

Every time she got past date number three, she started to feel like the man she was with never wanted her in the first place. And it wasn’t just romantic relationships, either. Charlotte never seemed to fit anywhere or in anyone’s ideals. She wasn’t successful enough—yet—to be “accomplished,” and wasn’t creative enough to be “small-business hipster woman.” She was also too blunt to be ladylike, and too prudish to be a vixen. It wasn’t like she could help it. Her mother had done a shit job raising her, and her father bailed when she was young. She sure as hell hadn’t been able to count on anyone.

Basically, she’d spent her life in a constant state of unclassified and unwanted.

Commitment wasn’t something she was interested in chasing. Ever. Doing so would mean trusting someone to want her completely, preferably long term, which wasn’t likely. No, better to stick to her rules of no strings, no commitment, no family. Grammy was the only exception. No way would she have her own kids, no matter how many busybody women in Spin class told her that her eggs would dry up soon. She was only thirty, for Christ’s sake.

So yeah. She worked alone, lived alone…

…and would probably die alone.

It was kind of depressing, actually.

Charlotte blew a lock of dark hair out of her face and glanced around. The town was cute, at least. Downtown Cheyenne was basically sandwiched between an old-looking bank made of all brick and an antiques shop. There weren’t many people milling about, let alone the floods of people she was used to.

Everything felt still. Calm.

Claustrophobic.

She shuddered. “I bet this place doesn’t even have triple-A,” she said, eyeing her newest enemy, the rental car she knew nothing about that was making a pained, gasping sound. A soft rise of smoke billowed out from under the hood. Charlotte frowned. Day one and she couldn’t even get through this hillbilly town.

She kicked it again, letting another round of curses fly. She just needed this piece of crap rental to get to her grandma’s. It couldn’t be too much farther, could it? “Piece of shhii—”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” a husky voice rumbled behind her.

Charlotte stalled midkick and looked up to see a very tall, very strong, very cowboy man staring at her.

“It—shit—I mean, yes?” Her skin went hot, even though Mr. Cowboy was shadowing her in his capable frame. Could she possibly sound more like an idiot who didn’t know how to speak?

“I wonder if I could assist you?” he asked, pinching the tip of his Stetson and keeping those crystal blue eyes locked on her.

Mr. Cowboy was wearing a crisp white T-shirt that clung to chiseled abs and a broad, solid chest. The bits of dirty blond hair sticking out from under his hat matched the several-day-old stubble on his face.

She didn’t know if it was the jet lag or the altitude that made it difficult to swallow.

She looked down, her gaze devouring him like a life-size Snickers bar, repeating the mantra in her head when she hit his narrow hips…

Hungry? Why wait?

“Ma’am?” he asked again.

She snapped out of her ogling and grimaced when she realized her own mind and body had betrayed her. Sure, it had been a while since she’d had sex last, but she needed to get a grip. Wasn’t like she’d never seen a cowboy before. Because she had…in the movies.

“I apologize,” she said, harnessing all her assertive grace. “I’m a hot mess because of this car and I’m—”

“A city girl,” he finished for her with a smile, then effortlessly rounded the car and popped open the hood.

“You say ‘city girl’ like it’s a bad thing,” she responded.

That smile stayed on his face as he shook his head and looked over the engine.

“Not a bad thing. Cities can be fun. Lots of flash.” He glanced her way, only his eyes started at her feet and slowly slid up her legs. Her skirt felt tight against her thighs, her button-up top suddenly constricting. Or maybe Mr. Cowboy’s eyes were making her flush.
“Nothing flashy around here, it seems,” she said, breaking his gaze on her.

“That’s not true. This place puts on a hell of a rodeo show every summer.”

She laughed.

He blinked.

Oh, he was serious?

“That sounds like…something,” she said, trying to polite, but the way Mr. Cowboy bent over the engine and messed with God-knew-what under the hood made his tan arms flex and that shirt of his pull tight over his shoulders. Well-defined shoulders. Shoulders that could handle fingernail scratches…

She shook her head again and reasoned that she was hungry and just needed an actual Snickers bar. That was it.

“Looks like you’re overheating,” he said, and stood to face her.

Her eyes shot wide and she smoothed her hands down her skirt. “I’m perfectly fine,” she defended.  
He chuckled. “Nah, I mean your car. You’re low on coolant. I have some in my truck.” With that, he walked about fifty feet up the street to a massive truck and grabbed something out of the back. She thought she’d appreciated the front view of him? The back was even better. And those jeans? She didn’t know who designed Wranglers, but she was going to write that genius a letter because damn, they showcased Mr. Cowboy’s ass to perfection.

Maybe she could enjoy the sights of Wyoming just a little. She was set to be farm-locked for the summer. Maybe she had time to take advantage of the town before all the work and caretaking started?

Cowboy walked back to her with a jug of what she assumed was coolant in his hand and went back under the hood.

“Tough way for a lady to meet Cheyenne,” Cowboy said, focusing on the pouring he was doing.

“I must admit, this first experience could skew my judgment of Cheyenne from here on out.”

“Aw well, I hope you can leave with only a positive view of things,” he said, standing and brushing off his hands.

Positive view, indeed.

“Start her up and see if that helped,” he instructed.

She got in the car, and with the driver-side door open, he stood at the hood and she yelled, “Okay, going to start it up now…”

She did.

It did.

“You’re amazing,” she let slip out before she could think better of it. When she got out, she caught him smiling.

“No ma’am, just helping a woman in need.”

Speaking of a woman in need… 

“I’d love to buy you a drink to repay you,” she said.

“No, ma’am,” he said quickly, and her internal balloon deflated. But he leaned against the car and grinned. “I’d love to buy you a drink and show you a kinder side of Cheyenne. No repayment necessary.”

Her entire chest lit up with happy sparks, and she tried not to dance like a tween goof at the thought of a date with Cowboy. Apparently she had a thing for country boys, because she hadn’t been this attracted to a guy in a long time.

“When?” she asked.

He smiled and tilted his chin toward the bar on the corner, just a block down from where they stood. “The Cadillac Bar right there has live music tonight. You free around eight?”

“I’ll meet you there,” she said.

He pinched the brim of his hat again. “Pleasure meeting you…?”

“Charlotte,” she said.

“Tripp.”

Of course his name was Tripp. A man like him would never be a Blain or an Andrew. No, he was Tripp. Rustic, a little dirty, and all kinds of perfectly wrong for her. But perfectly right for a minimalist situation. She didn’t have to worry about long term or her heart with this man; she had to worry about her panties.

She had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn’t survive.




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National and International Bestselling Author. Break Me Slowly: #1 Bestselling book in Contemporary Fiction and Women's Fiction!