Showing posts with label Crimson Romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crimson Romance. Show all posts

Hot off the press from Bethany Kris, The Arrangement,



The Arrangement 

When a Cosa Nostra girl and a Bratva boy meet…


Nothing will stop the Bratva mob boss from taking back what’s his, and once he has her, he’ll do anything to keep her…

Viviana “Vine” Carducci’s and Anton Avdonin’s marriage was decided more than two decades ago. The deal between leading mafia families has more on the line than anyone knew, even if the Bratva and Cosa Nostra shouldn’t mix. When Vine’s family is murdered and she’s left with nothing more than her grief to survive the mob world alone, she believes the arrangement won’t see the light of day.

Anton can’t allow the one woman he was supposed to love get away. At the possibility of her death, he steps in to save her with guns blazing, knowing exactly what it might cost him: everything. But it’s been nearly a decade since their last meeting, and he can’t help but wonder if the woman he took back is the same girl he fell for all those years before.

Protected and loved, Vine is unable to forget their shared moments a lifetime ago, or the future she knows they’re owed. When an old flame of Anton’s shows up to rip the veil off the carefully constructed secrets he’d been hiding, she learns that nothing about her life is as it seems. But, that’s nothing compared to the bomb about to blow. Can Vine see beyond the pain and blood to take what she always wanted? And just how far will the mob prince go to keep her safe?

In a world where violence, deceit, and greed reign, your life is not your own, and sometimes, love has to be arranged.
Read an Excerpt:
“Why all the safety precautions if you’re expecting me to live openly here?” she asked. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
Anton cocked a brow. “I’m hoping your uncle will be a lot less brazen if I’m not keeping you hidden.” He still hadn’t let go of her sides, those teasing thumbs of his rolling gently against the undersides of her breasts in tender motions. “Deny that you want this, too, Vine. You’ve always wanted me. You want this life because you were meant for it, and I have waited more than long enough to get you here living it with me.”
“You’re not giving me a choice. I’ve spent the last three years thinking that this arrangement was over, and then you come in with guns blazing and a house on lockdown, Anton. That’s … It’s not fair. You signed my death warrant doing this.”
Immediately, his hands left her skin. She wanted them back, but her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit that fact. “It was already signed.”
What?”
Placing his hands to his knees, Anton shook his head and muttered, “He was already getting ready to put out a hit on you. That guard of yours was probably going to be the one to do it to get his in with the family. I was hoping to see you back in the states before I approached you myself, but Sonny didn’t give me the chance.”
No one likes to off a woman, Vine.
She couldn’t help but remember Sam saying that. Would he have done it?
“You can’t possibly know that for sure.”
The look he gave turned her stomach with fear. “I can and I do, Vine. There are men in that organization who are less trustworthy than a snake. Even their eyes and ears can be bought. I stepped in now because I needed to, not because I thought you were ready, or that you wanted me to.”
An ache settled in her chest. How was she supposed to trust him?
“Sonny wouldn’t kill me simply because I wanted to marry you, Anton. I’m not worth a damn thing to him alive, nothing more than a nuisance he has to look after.” Frustrated by his lack of expression, her bitterness rose.  “Dead I’m worth even less though, right?”
“Dead you’re worth nothing,” Anton admitted, hurting Viviana a little more. “That is exactly what your uncle wants to achieve. For secrets to remain hidden from his family and for his power to remain intact.”
That only left her more disturbed, emotions rolling from one thing to the next without ever landing on just one feeling. “Our families won’t merge now, regardless if we’re married or not. So you lied to me earlier when you said that’s what this was about. A marriage is only going to cause more issues. I’m worthless to the Bratva; you practically said so yourself.”
“No, you’re worth a great deal, especially if you’re married to me.”
But, why?
“You’re hiding something from me,” she realized, hurt that he was lying again, even if it was by omission. Viviana couldn’t decide which stung worse—that he didn’t trust her, or that he thought she didn’t deserve to know whatever it was. “What aren’t you saying?”
Anton looked stricken, fingers drumming a quick beat on his thighs. “I gave them my word. It was supposed to be them explaining this to you if they desired to—all the reasons and things that happened years ago. It’s not my story to tell, and I promised. My word is all I’m worth if you consider the way I live; without it, I have nothing.” Reaching out, he cupped a hand over her knee and ran it along the inside of her jittery leg. With his fingers moving so softly against her inner thigh, he pressed his fingertips close enough to her center to make Viviana throb with need. Murmuring, he said, “Can’t you try to trust me? Viviana, you know me … you do.”
She ignored his plea. “Who, Anton?” His fingers pressed harder at her words, grip tightening when Viviana refused to react to his motions. What she really wanted was more. So much more of his hands on her body, but she didn’t dare speak that out loud. “Was it my father, or Nicoli? Who?”
“I can’t answer that right now.” With that, he stood and held out a hand for her to take. “Come, I’ll get you back in bed for the evening. Let you rest and get the last of that sedative out of your system. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”
Too exhausted to argue, her palm met his. Anton’s lips touched down to Viviana’s fingers in a flutter of movement. She wouldn’t have noticed the quick kiss had she not felt the heat of his mouth brushing along her sensitive skin. She might as well have been sixteen and falling for him all over again.
Viviana couldn’t figure out if she was willing enough to let him do it. It didn’t help that she wasn’t all too sure if she knew this man anymore. Was he the same one she wanted all those years ago? Had his feelings remained the same nearly a decade later … was that even possible? Could someone want another that much?
What was even more frightening was that with his blue eyes watching, and his hand connected with hers, waiting, Anton still felt like hers.
Just like he always had.

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About the author: Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to two young sons, two cats, and two dogs. Between a full-time job, playing children, snuggling animals, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

Welcome guest author Bethany-Kris with her new release Lynked, erotic romance from Crimson


Lynked by Bethany-Kris
A full length contemporary erotic romance
From Publisher: Crimson Romance

He’d give up everything to keep her, in fact he did. But will she still be waiting on the other side when it’s over?
When a fighter’s path crosses with a beautiful woman, he’s positive the meeting will only end in her leaving his penthouse with sex hair and a smile—until life and the law steps in, inevitably linking their futures forever.

The accident that ended his fighting career wasn’t enough to keep former heavyweight mixed martial arts champion Devon Lynk out of the sport. His new business, Chaine Lynk, an exclusive fighting company, has made him millions through illegal gambling. Happy with his life, he never suspected it could be his downfall ... until the morning after leads to something so much more than he expected, and he’s left with the weight of guilt and responsibility on his shoulders.

Veronica “Nic” Stacey made her way to Edmonton with the intention of starting life anew, but her first night in the city lands her in a stranger’s bed and things don’t quite go as planned. Waking up to find out her brother is in jail is one thing, but learning the man she slept with is also his boss is another matter altogether. With no knowledge of the city and nowhere to go, she’s left taking the only help offered: Devon’s.

With Chaine Lynk’s doors closed and Devon facing possible jail time for his involvement, reality takes a front row seat. Love and lust intermingle as he comes to learn what his business and choices have cost the girl he wants most—now he just has to fix it. But is it already too late?
Read an Excerpt:
“What is your name, pretty girl?”
*
Something sinful crawled over every nerve Nic had in the best way at the voice in her ear. She couldn’t not respond to the hand suddenly holding tight to her waist. The heat of the man’s palm soaked straight through the fabric of her dress and seeped into her skin in the best way. She swore it travelled over her flesh with a tingling dance that had her burning hot instantly. Shooting him with a simpering grin, Nic turned her head just enough to check him out.
Tall and well dressed with broad shoulders, a muscled frame, and hazel eyes that seemed to pierce right into her soul, Nic was stunned for a second. The dark color of his skin stood out against the cream color of her dress and his fingers tightened, making her breath catch. Handsome was an understatement. This man was downright gorgeous in a way that made her pulse pick up and her sex ache.
There was a faint grin playing on his full lips and her gaze was drawn down to his hand still holding firm to her waist like it belonged there. No one had so blatantly approached her like he had throughout the night, not to mention physically touched her.
Actually, this man was the first to ever do that at all and not get an instant rejection.
Maybe it should have bothered Nic, but instead she found herself curious as to why he had approached her. After all, she hadn’t been actively trying to invite attention her way.
“Your name?” he asked again.
The roughness in his voice was almost mesmerizing. The flecks of green in his eyes seemed to dance under the lights, sparkling with suggestion and want.
“Nic.”
“What are your plans in the next five minutes?”
Nic turned to look back at the fight. The man did the same, watching as Jordan locked down hard to his opponent, pinning him to the mat with a chokehold that looked like it must have hurt. She’d thought seeing Jordan fight would turn her inside out with worry, but instead, Nic only found herself proud.
Maybe making the choice to come to Alberta had been the right one after all. Change was supposed to be a good thing, right?
“That depends,” she finally answered.
“On what?”
Once more, she met his gaze, feeling his hand gripping tightly to her waist and wanting to become lost in just the sensation of that action alone. Nic could feel her body wanting to press harder into his grip. Never had her insides reacted so strongly to another person. He didn’t let up a bit. Haze yielded behind them, tapping out hard against the mat. People started to cheer as their hands hit the cage. Jordan’s name rang out in the crowd louder and louder.
“On that.”
Her brother won.
The tuition was all but paid now.
Do something different. Those words rung in her mind like a toll bell.
What would it hurt to go home with this man? Nic wondered. Who would know what she had done? There wouldn’t be a soul to say anything bad. There would be no one judging her like they did back home. He clearly wasn’t a fighter if his clothing and attitude were any indication, so she was still following along with her brother’s only request.
What could it really hurt? Nothing. She was grown. Jordan would be celebrating his win. A single phone call to let him know she was fine would be enough until the morning.
“Come home with me,” he said, his eyes seeming to search hers for any sign of indecision.
Nic laughed an airy sound. “I don’t even know you.”
“I don’t bite.”
“Maybe I’d like that, though.”
“All right, I bite a little,” he teased.
She could easily say no, but she didn’t want to. That should have scared her. Whatever influence this man seemed to have on her was one she hadn’t experienced before. Nic was the rational one; a person who didn’t make irresponsible choices that would shine her in a bad light. Straight and narrow; white as a dove. Whoever this man was, he made her want to jump headfirst into the filth of sin without even thinking of possible consequences.
“Married?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Escort?” The face she made must have given away how she felt about that comment. “Sorry,” he said.
Again, his mouth came dangerously close to her face, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. Heat saturated Nic all over again and she shivered. Who was this man? She didn’t even care that his name had yet to be uttered. She wet her tongue with her lips.
“Come home with me,” he repeated, his voice turning down to a husky tone.
Nic bit her lip, her eyebrow rising in contemplation. “You’ll get me home in the morning?”
“In a private jet if you want, sweetheart; just say yes.”
“Yes.”
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About the author:
 Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother of two young sons, two cats, and two dogs. Between playing children, barking dogs, snuggling cats, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something…when she can find the time.
Author Links:

Welcome to guest author Peggy Bird for Flirty Friday



Thanks, Elodie, for hosting me on your blog today. I’m excited to introduce Marius and Cynthia from my new book “Trusting Again.” This was a really fun story to write. First, I got to play in glass with Cynthia. Like my heroine, I do glass art although not at her level. My beads are terrible! Then I learned about Malbec and coffee for Marius. Finally, I took them to one of the most beautiful places in the country—the San Juan Islands. It’s so gorgeous there, it’s impossible not to fall in love. Just ask Marius and Cynthia.

My excerpt is from their first day sailing The couple hasn’t been together very long and in this scene Cynthia isn’t sure yet what the ground rules for the sailing trip are. When they went on board in the morning, Marius suggested she take the master’s cabin and he’d sleep on the main cabin. But the attraction between them heats up as they sail and by the time they get back on board after dinner…well, read the excerpt and see what you think will happen.

Trusting Again
After years of struggling, Cynthia Blaine is finally getting recognition from Seattle galleries and buyers for her designer jewelry. Her life seems to be on an even keel. Her professional life, that is. Her personal life is less exciting than a cloistered nun’s. After a messy breakup with a man who decided he needed a woman who could help his career more than a mere artist could, she’s steered clear of anyone who could hurt her like that again.
Then Marius Hernandez comes into a gallery where she is working. He’s a successful coffee broker; he’s to-die-for handsome; he’s sexy and charming. And he’s very, very interested in her.
Marius woos her on a sailing trip through the beautiful San Juan Islands during which their romance lights up the summer nights. Soon after they return to Seattle, he leaves on a six-week business trip to Central America, promising he’ll return to her.  But just before he’s due back, Cynthia gets a shock. And when she goes to Portland to pour out her heart to her best friend, she has another shock. Marius is in Portland, not where he said he would be. And he’s with another woman.
It’ll take more than a good cup of coffee to get Cynthia and Marius to their happily-ever-after.



Read an Excerpt
When they’d packed up the remains of their meal, Cynthia poked around in her small duffle bag and came up with a tube of sunscreen. “I need to put more on. Want some?”
He held out his latte-colored arm. “With this skin?”
“With any skin. You mean you don’t have any sunblock on? Don’t you know about the epidemic of skin cancer? Here, let me.” Without thinking it through, she went behind him and began to rub lotion onto his shoulders.
It was a mistake, a very big mistake. The heat of his skin zinged through her fingers, up her arm, into her chest, taking up so much space in her lungs it was hard to breathe. She tried to get more oxygen in by taking deep, deep breaths, but that just meant she replaced the little air in her lungs with the exotic smell she associated with him, a scent even the sunscreen couldn’t mask.
And if touching his skin wasn’t bad enough, there was the feel of the muscles underneath. Oh, dear God, the muscles. Trying to distract her mind from what she was doing, she racked her brain for something to think about that wasn’t related to his body. Touching his body. Massaging those muscles. Which if she didn’t stop thinking about would lead to licking all the way up his spine to his neck. Where she’d nibble, until she moved to sucking on his earlobe. Or maybe sliding her hands around his waist, insinuating her fingers under the waistband of his cutoffs to follow that line of dark hair.
No! She had to do something to stop the train wreck she could see coming if she kept on thinking this way. But she couldn’t help herself. She loved touching him. Loved the feel of his skin and the strength of his muscles. Remembered what it felt like to have him hold her, touch her. To feel the hardness of his body against her softness. To have all that male heat against her.
This was getting worse by the minute. There had to be something she could do. But what? What? Wait. She’d read someplace about what men did to divert themselves from thinking about sex. What was it? Oh, right. They thought about baseball. That wasn’t workable. She didn’t know enough about the sport to form a coherent diversionary sentence.
Okay. What was it Liz said she’d done when she wanted to stop smoking? Oh, yeah, she’d used the idea of a mental stop sign when she got the urge to light up. Cynthia closed her eyes for a minute, pictured a huge, red stop sign on Marius’s back and proceeded to blow right through it to touch the next muscle.
Then she remembered her life drawing class in college, naked bodies as art project. She’d learned all the major muscles in that class and now ran through what she could remember. Trying to think of the correct names for what she was massaging worked at first. Deltoids. Triceps. Biceps. Brachioradialis.
Arms and shoulders finished.
Then on to his back. Latissimus dorsi. Trapezius. Obliques. She was on a roll. Gluteus max...oh, shit. Don’t go there. Do not go anywhere near that thought. Or that muscle.
One by one, his muscles tensed and twitched as her fingers worked the lotion into his skin as if she’d said its name out loud. Maybe she had. Or was that Marius she heard? She could have sworn she heard a soft groan as she spread the sunblock down his back to the waistband of his cutoffs. She felt like moaning herself. If she didn’t finish this soon, she’d be lost.

About Peggy
Born in Philly, I’ve spent most of my adult life in the Pacific Northwest where I have happily grown webs between my toes and moss behind my ears. I pursued a number of careers—nurse, legislative staffer, lobbyist, public affairs consultant, non-profit association executive, workshop teacher, oh, and mother and wife—before deciding to leave it all for what I’ve loved through every stage of life—writing. I've been published in anthologies, magazines, newspapers and in the brochures, newsletters and reports of my consulting clients and employers. Unless you count speeches for politicians, I'd never written fiction until a cast of characters began inhabiting my daydreams. A glass artist and a gallery owner were there. So were a sculptor and a jewelry designer. When some dead bodies showed up, a couple of cops and a deputy DA arrived. Soon they began to fall in love with each other and work for their happy ending. Bingo. I was a romance writer.

How to find Peggy





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