Thanks to a mishap at an intersection, she’s dead and stuck somewhere between Heaven and what seems like Hell . New releas #womensfiction @jbaby711 #giveaway tour stop

Women's Fiction

Date Published: 7/27/2019

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

Claire Blackwell can’t find that damn white light. Thanks to a mishap at an intersection, she’s dead and stuck somewhere between Heaven and what seems like Hell as she is forced to watch her husband and children unravel without her. While she struggles to find answers for her limbo state, her family begins to see her, offering what she believes, is a gift of second chances.

As she navigates through this new, untouchable world and the challenges it creates, she is forced to face some sad and potentially dangerous truths. Determined, she works to mend her relationship with her family, but her stubborn teenage son refuses to acknowledge her, and when tensions escalate with his long-time bully, her inability to control the physical world around her leaves her fearing for her family’s safety. With her time running out, she must find a way to save them before the progress she has made is lost and she fades from this world forever.

Read an Excerpt:

Back in the kitchen, Brad stood at the counter, amused by something on his phone while he sipped his coffee.

“Did you see this on Facebook?” He turned his phone screen in my direction.

“I haven’t been on Facebook in ages. Too busy for that time-suck.”

But truthfully, it wasn’t the time that kept me away as much as it was the lives of my “friends”, which always sounded monumentally better than my own, that stopped me from scrolling through the pages. The job promotions; the endless pictures of exotic vacations; the perfect children doing perfect things; the perfect, perfect lives everyone seemed to live. Everything and everyone were perfect on Facebook, and although deep down I knew no one lived the utopian life they portrayed on social media, the braggery still ate at me and left holes of inadequacy and unhappiness.

“Bridget Radcliff just published a novel. Isn’t she a friend of yours?”

“What?” I glanced at Brad’s phone. Bridget’s post made its way to his page from a friend of a friend of a friend in the small, claustrophobic world of fake-believe.

“Looks like it made it onto Amazon’s bestseller list.”

“Wow, fantabulous,” I said without an ounce of energy in my voice. “Another smut novel makes it onto the bestseller list. And if you must know, she’s an acquaintance, not a friend.”

I didn’t know if it was really a smut novel, but I assumed it was only because I couldn’t imagine Bridget writing anything else. But this, I admit, was one of my flaws. I assumed a lot about everything. I assumed I’d marry a prince and become a princess. I assumed I knew everything there was to know at fifteen. I assumed I’d want sex every day for the rest of my life and my marriage to Brad would be like living inside a rainbow every day. I assumed I wouldn’t miss my career when I stayed home to raise the kids. I assumed my children would be the best at everything because I assumed I would be the best mother there ever was. But now, even with all I knew about assumptions, about how they are idealistic dreams I refused to prove wrong, I still gave them weight in my life. Why would assuming Bridget wrote something scandalous be any different?

A little jealousy bounced within me. Even with Bridget being a divorced mother of two, she somehow found the time to write a best-selling novel. And that picture of her on Brad’s phone, all trim and sunshiny-beautiful holding her book, lit a fuse in me, or maybe it was already lit but had met the nitroglycerine.

In any case, I was ready to explode. I moved to the sink and gazed out the window, counting slowly to ten, fully aware of the emptiness growing within me. Each person’s success reminded me of my own career as a teacher I’d willingly given up for this.

About the Author

Jan Steele grew up in the burbs of Chicago and after thirty-two years of shoveling snow, moved to Southern California with her husband and children. She has taught everything from Kindergarten through high school but found her passion for writing years later while living as an expat in Asia for four years. She’s a contributing author of Chicken Soup for the Soul, Miracles and More (2018), shares a blog with her sister-in-law, and is an MFA student at UC Riverside. In addition to writing, she loves to travel, volunteer, watch college basketball and sunsets. She’s also passionate about shedding light on the lasting effects of bullying.

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As junior high school band nerds, Cullen and Shelby fall under the protection of football player and loner, Buddy Boyd. #newrelease #mystery Read a teaser

Coming of Age / Mystery / Humor

Date Published: June 8, 2019

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

When attorney Cullen Molloy attends his fortieth high school reunion, he doesn’t expect to be defending childhood friends against charges of murder… 

In a small town on the high plains of Eastern New Mexico, life and culture are shaped by the farm roads defining the 640-acre sections of land homesteaders claimed at the turn of the Twentieth Century. Cullen and Shelby Blaine explore first love along these section roads during the 1960’s, forging a life-long emotional bond.

  

      As junior high school band nerds, Cullen and Shelby fall under the protection of football player and loner, Buddy Boyd. During their sophomore year of high school, Buddy is charged with killing a classmate and is confined to a youth correctional facility. When he returns to town facing the prospect of imprisonment as an adult, Cullen becomes Buddy’s protector.

       The case haunts the three friends into adulthood, and it isn’t until their fortieth reunion, that they’re forced to revisit that horrible night. When a new killing takes place, Cullen, Shelby and Buddy find themselves reliving the nightmare.

  

         Murder is an easy thing to hide along old country section roads.

Advance Praise

“An ambitious, evocative small-town tale located somewhere between Peyton Place and The Last Picture Show.” –Kirkus Review

Read the Full Review

https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/mike-murphey/section-roads/

Read a teaser

July 2009 Friday

“I’ll ride with Buddy,” Shelby whispered. “Do you mind? It’ll give us a chance to talk.”

“No, I think that’s a good idea.” Cullen lifted his eyebrows, which Shelby dismissed with a wave.

                Buddy stood a little apart from them at the Enterprise counter. They’d been through the greeting rituals. A hug for Shelby, which she returned with a kiss to his cheek. A polite, interested handshake with Lori.

Cullen and Lori left them and began an hour-long drive through the agricultural blight of West Texas.     

 “So, what’s the deal with Buddy?” Lori asked. “I know you worked together a long time ago, but you really haven’t talked much about him.”

They drove along a paved road—an impossibly straight line heading north. Deep green alfalfa fields alternated with stubby rows of cotton and weedy, untilled soil bank every few miles forming a pattern replicating itself off into a horizontal infinity. Heat waves shimmered along the pavement. From the soil bank, dust and debris climbed columns of rising, swirling air.

At the age of five, Cullen came to believe these thermal dust devils were pathways for souls fleeing to heaven. He believed this because on the summer day his grandmother was buried at a rural cemetery with brown grass and a few gnarled, wind-battered elms, one of these dust devils sprang from an uncultivated field across the road and as it grew—sucking dirt and paper and tumbleweeds along—passed over the mounded red earth marking the new grave. A spurt of dust leaped from the mound, painting a segment of the great undulating pillar a pale rosy shade. This pink apparition climbed as the thermal moved across the cemetery, finally disappearing into a hot, whitish-blue, eastern New Mexico sky.

Dust devils always made Cullen think of the people he loved who were no longer alive. His mother and father rested with his grandmother at that same cemetery.

Cullen had a ready description when his friends asked him about his home town. Arthur, New Mexico, along with hardscrabble oil patch towns like Hobbs, Artesia, Midland and Odessa, was located on a high plane called Llano Estacado which, Cullen originally speculated, was Spanish for something like really windy dry flat place.

 Occupying Eastern New Mexico and Northwest Texas, the region is characterized by hot blustery summers and even colder blustery winters. The wet part of the Llano received barely twenty inches of rain during a good year. “Arthur,” Cullen would note, “is in the dry part.”

Bleak as they might be, the Hobbses, Odessas and Artesias of the world were at least plopped down atop semi-vast underground puddles of oil. Not Arthur. Not a drop. If tumbleweeds had been a cash crop, though, the homesteaders would have prospered.

Arthur and Arthur County were named for Chester A. Arthur, America’s twenty-first president. Researching a junior high school history assignment, the most compelling facts Cullen found about him were that Arthur was America’s fifth fattest president and owned eighty pairs of pants.

The community of eight thousand—at an elevation of four thousand feet above sea level—had nothing geographical, like a river or a canyon or an oasis, to warrant its location.

Arthur just was.

The flat monotony spread in every direction. “Given a clear day,” Cullen was fond of saying, “you could climb a six-foot stepladder and see the earth curve.”

He often puzzled over the pioneers’ judgment. Certainly, more attractive locations waited further west. He supposed the settlers might have been tired and stopped to rest, thinking they would wait for a good rain to replenish their water supplies before they moved on. And when the livestock had all died of thirst, they were stuck.        

Still, despite this hardship, there grew a civilization defined geographically by dirt roads that formed the borders of all those perfectly square six hundred and forty-acre sections of land claimed by early twentieth century homesteaders.

As Cullen composed his answer to Lori’s query about Buddy, he thought of those section roads, and all the ways straight lines and straight laces had twisted the paths of this small group of friends.

“I told you about Christy Hammond, didn’t I?” Cullen answered. “The girl who was shot to death our sophomore year?”

Lori gave a little gasp. “That was Buddy? Oh, no. And he went to jail?”

“Juvenile detention. He pled guilty to manslaughter. They kept him until his eighteenth birthday. They took him away in November of 1966. He came back May of 1969.”

“At least he got to come back.”

Cullen gave a rueful laugh and shook his head.

“No, that was part of the punishment. A lot of people thought he should have been charged with murder. They thought he should have been sent away for life. When the judge didn’t agree, half the town was furious at the injustice of it all. Christy’s uncle is a lawyer. He convinced juvenile court authorities to make Buddy finish high school here as a condition of his release.”

“But why would they—”              

“It was their last shot at punishing him,” Cullen said. “They had a few weeks to give him hell when they knew he couldn’t fight back.”

About the Author

Mike Murphey is a native of eastern New Mexico and spent almost thirty years as an award-winning newspaper journalist in the Southwest and Pacific Northwest. Following his retirement from the newspaper business, he and his wife Nancy entered in a seventeen-year partnership with the late Dave Henderson, all-star centerfielder for the Oakland Athletics, Boston Red Sox and Seattle Mariners. Their company produces the A’s and Mariners adult baseball Fantasy Camps. They also have a partnership with the Roy Hobbs adult baseball organization in Fort Myers, Florida. They love baseball, fiction, cats and sailing. They split their time between Spokane, Washington, and Phoenix, Arizona. Mike enjoys life as a writer and old-man baseball player.

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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

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!”

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Dangerously-Yours-Sci-Fi-Romance-Loving-ebook/dp/B06XGNDH24

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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Rock star romance with new release Rock my Body from Lee Piper and @evernightpub #eroticromance

Thundering drum beats? Check. Swoon-worthy vocals? Check. Panty-obliterating lead guitarist? Check. Looks like you’re all set for Rock My Body, Book Two in the Mondez series by Lee Piper!

Blurb:

Riley Sears promises herself never to fall in love unless it's going to end in an engagement ring and a white picket fence—her medically diagnosed anxiety skyrockets otherwise. 

Enter Dominic Mondez, the hottest guy ever to grace pecs and abs. He propositions Riley with a cocky yet tempting offer of the best sex of her life—his words. However, after learning he’s a manwhore who never sleeps with the same woman twice, Riley's decision becomes remarkably simple.

No. Way. In. Hell.  

He is a commitment phobe; she needs commitment. End of story.

Sadly, traversing the murky waters of friends without benefits isn't simple, especially when he's lead guitarist of local rock band, Mondez. Riley is also cautious of his tempestuous nature, womanising ways and—even worse—inexplicable jealousy. He is bad for her in every possible way.

Bad, bad, bad.

If only her body would listen.

Excerpt:

He was watching me, I could feel it. My body sensed him long before my head did and started tingling. Everywhere.

Oh, holy mother.

Just the thought of him made my heart pound. Traitorous thing. It merrily rammed against my ribcage as soon as I pictured his tall, muscular body and dishevelled, russet hair. My fingers itched to reach out and delve through the soft strands—they remembered what it felt like to tug down on them as he groaned into my open mouth—but I shifted in my seat and sat on them instead. I wasn’t going down that road again, hell no. I was done. D.O.N.E.

A low chuckle cut through the muted sounds of heavy rock music emanating from inside, its gravely sound resonating with my downstairs department, causing a deep blush to stain my cheeks.

Clearly, I wasn’t fooling anyone.

What in the name of sweet baby Jesus is he even doing here?

I tried so hard to focus on what Sebastian was saying. Thankfully, he held up his end of the conversation despite my unexpected inability to formulate any words. We’d been sitting together for a while without a single awkward pause so I nodded, smiled, and even laughed when required. To be fair, it was a pretty decent pick-up attempt. Well, until he showed up.

Blue eyes burned my skin.

You don’t own me, you don’t own me, you don’t—

I swallowed, steeled myself and then glanced across the beer garden.

Own me.

Dominic was leaning against the wall, his black, button-down shirt almost bursting at the seams. I blamed those insanely strong pecs and biceps. Honestly, they were huge. And the way his dark blue jeans hung enticingly low off narrow hips… Well. It should be illegal. He was going to give someone—aka me—a cardiac arrest if he wasn’t careful.

I shook my head. With a bottle of beer in one hand and a buxom blonde in the other— this one looked nastier than most—the guy was the physical embodiment of everything I despised. Truly.

If only my body would listen.

Raising the drink to full, kissable lips, he tipped his head back, piercing gaze still locked on me. He then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a flicker of emotions I couldn’t identify crossing his face when he noticed my breath catch.

The girl must have registered his distraction too because she started rubbing herself up against him like an overly aroused limpet. Gross. He broke contact with me and looked down at her, a dark smile tugging his lips. After murmuring something in her ear and slapping her on the behind, she giggled. I looked away, that familiar painful knot forming in my stomach once more.

Damn you, Dominic Mondez. Damn you to hell.

Buy the book 
Evernight: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/rock-my-body-by-lee-piper

Connect with Lee Piper:

Website: http://www.leepiperauthor.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/leepiperauthor/

Blog: http://www.leepiperauthor.com/blog

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Lee-Piper/e/B01NAS0IBO/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16304661.Lee_Piper

Author Bio

Lee Piper is a lover of books. She often juggles reading seven novels at a time for the sheer joy of it. At the grand old age of five, Lee Piper decided to become an author, however found a limited market for her unicorn stories. So, high school English teacher it was.

At thirty-two, and grieving the loss of her second miscarriage, Lee Piper turned to novels—Kylie Scott, to be precise—to escape the pain. This then inspired her to write Rock My World, the first in a four-part contemporary romance series, and her debut novel became an Evernight Publishing bestseller within the first two weeks of publication.

Lee Piper lives in Adelaide, South Australia with her drummer husband, cheeky daughters, and one very crazy dog.

From blog guest @AuthorPaigeW new #western #military romance Read a #teaser @evernightpub

Sergeant’s Secret Baby by Paige Warren

Genre(s): Contemporary, Western, Military

Heat Level: 3

Word Count: 41,800

About the Book:

When Shiloh Anderson’s ex left her stranded in a bar, with no clothes, no car, and no money, the last thing she expected was to have a one-night stand with the sexiest man she’d ever seen. But the soldier left more than just a lasting impression with her, he left her pregnant.

Sergeant Drake Edwards is a lot of things, but he’s never been an asshole. Until the nameless woman from his one-night stand sends him an email claiming to be pregnant with his baby. Demanding a paternity test seemed reasonable enough to him, but he didn’t count on how damn stubborn she could be.

When Drake is injured and is forced to return home, he’s brought face to face with Shiloh once more, and her beauty nearly takes him to his knees. Facing death changes a man, and Drake is determined to do whatever it takes to claim his baby—and the woman he can’t stop thinking about.

Buy Links:

Evernight Publishing – http://www.evernightpublishing.com/sergeants-secret-baby-by-paige-warren/

Bookstrand – http://www.bookstrand.com/sergeants-secret-baby-mf

Amazon -  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0714MS234

Excerpt:

Shiloh pushed open the door to the first bedroom. She flicked on the switch, winced at the bright light, and immediately shut it off. Stripping out of her boots and clothes, she face planted on the bed, bare-assed as the day she was born. After a bit of wiggling, she managed to pull the covers over her and curled up in the center of the queen-size bed. It had been a long time since she’d had a bed to herself. Maybe if she weren’t completely plastered, she’d have enjoyed it a bit more. Of course, now that jerkwad was out of her life, she was going to have tons of time to sleep by herself.
The alcohol-induced haze made her feel like she was floating, drifting on a cloud. Her stomach no longer felt queasy. Shiloh closed her eyes and dozed. A while later, she thought she heard a noise in the room, but dismissed it as her imagination. Dallas had said she’d probably have the place to herself. And she’d remembered to lock the door. She sighed and rolled over. When the bed dipped, she bolted upright, clutching the blankets to her chest.
“Hello?” She tried to see in the inky darkness, but could only make out the shape of a man. Oh hell, had she picked the wrong bed?
There was a click and a lamp turned on. She squinted until her eyes adjusted. The man sitting beside her was even larger than his brother, and she hadn’t thought that was physically possible. Dark hair was buzzed short, and his profile showed a strong jaw and long, straight nose. There was an Army tattoo on one bicep. His broad back was toned, and his arms looked large enough to break someone in half. Or cuddle them really close. She gave herself a mental slap. When his blue eyes focused on her, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. No one had ever looked at her like that before.
“Looks like my brother got me a going-away present after all.” Appreciation lit his eyes as he scanned her.
She shook her head.
“No? Well, sweetheart, I can’t think of any other reason for a naked woman to be in my bed.”
“I picked the wrong room,” she mumbled.
He gave her a sardonic smile. “I know for a fact Rebecca wouldn’t approve of Dallas sharing his room with any naked women except her. So, if you were looking to trap him in some way, you picked the wrong mark.”
“No, I … he’s helping me.”
The man turned and braced his hands on either side of her hips, leaning in close, his lips nearly brushing hers. “What I think is that your plan isn’t going the way you’d thought it would so you’re making up stories. But I’m a pretty nice guy. I’ll give you thirty seconds to get that sweet ass of yours out of my bed, dressed, and the fuck out of this apartment.”
She licked her lips and didn’t move.
“Or, if you’re still here in thirty seconds, I’m going to take it as an invitation and see if those lips taste as sweet as they look.”
Her eyes widened. He wouldn’t really kiss her, would he? She trembled a little at the thought of the powerful man caging her in putting his lips on hers. The thought of his hands on her body… Heat flushed her cheeks and spread down into her chest. She wasn’t seriously considering sitting here just to see if he’d really do it, was she?
“Time’s up.”
Her lips parted, but before she could utter a word of protest, his mouth pressed against hers, his tongue invading and tasting. Oh Lord! Shiloh had never been kissed so thoroughly before. His expertise was enough to make her weak-kneed and ready to beg for more. Her body burned and she dropped the blankets to reach for him. As he pushed her back against the bed, she became acutely aware of the fact he was just as naked as her.
Was she really about to have sex with a complete stranger? She didn’t even know his name!
He trailed hot kisses down her neck, giving her ear a nip. A shiver skated down her spine as her nipples puckered. Oh, hell yeah! He can do whatever he wants to me.

About the Author:
Paige Warren spends her days weaving tales about alpha male cowboys and the women who love them. There's nothing hotter than a man in tight Wranglers and a pair of well-worn boots. You have to admit, there's something sexy about a man who knows how to use a rope!
A cat lover, she has more than one furbaby running around, keeping her company in the wee hours of the morning as she tries to find just the right way to say "His skin gleamed, the early morning rays caressing his sun bronzed flesh, as he studied her from beneath the brim of his Stetson." Or, you know, something similar.
When Paige isn't dolling out tons of affection on the furbabies, or slurping down a pot of coffee (Yes! A whole pot!) so she can get in her daily word count, she enjoys reading and watching movies—romances, usually. 
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