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Saturday, December 26, 2015

The Fall Up (The Fall Up #1) by Aly Martinez


I wanted to jump.
He made me fall.

As a celebrity, I lived in the public eye, but somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself in the spotlight.

Until he found me.

Sam Rivers was a gorgeous, tattooed stranger who saved my life with nothing more than a simple conversation.

But we were both standing on that bridge for a reason the night we met. The secrets of our pasts brought us together—and then tore us apart.

Could we find a reason to hold on as life constantly pulled us down?

Or maybe there’s only one direction to go when two people fall in love at rock bottom—up.



It was raining. Isn’t that the way all great love stories start? And also usually end? The midnight air was cool against my skin as I stared off that bridge. My blond wig was secured in place by a headband, and chunky sunglasses covered my whiskey-colored eyes. I didn’t look like myself any more than I felt it. Bruises from the night before painted my legs while fresh scabs covered my knees, but it was the hollowness in my chest that hurt the most.

Yep. Still me.

Which was exactly why I was standing on that bridge, wishing for the mental fortitude to hurl myself off.

A man’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You finally gonna do it tonight?”

I instinctually smoothed my fake hair down and pressed the bridge of my glasses closer to my face, sealing out any possible glance he could catch. I stared ahead as I snapped, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen you here three nights in a row now. I was just wondering if tonight was going to be the night you finally jump.”

My eyes flashed wide, but since they were covered by the dark glasses, my reaction remained hidden. “I just like the view. That’s all.” What a load of shit.

I watched him nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah me too. It’s gorgeous up here.”

Shuffling my feet to the side, I attempted to slip away as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered it my way.

“You want one?”

I shook my head and then crept down a few inches to put distance between us.

“Suit yourself.” He used a hand to shield the lighter from the wind, but the constant sprinkle of rain made his task impossible. “Damn it,” he cursed with the cigarette tucked between his lips. “Little help?” he asked, swinging his gaze to mine.

Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “With what?”

“It’s raining…and windy…and I’m trying to burn one.” He tilted his head, equally as incredulous.

“You want me to call God? We had a bad breakup recently, but he might be willing to do me one last favor.”

He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. “That would be fantastic. What’s the big guy’s response time like these days? Last time we spoke, it was”—he paused to look at his watch—“oh, twenty-seven years.”

A soft laugh bubbled from my throat, and one side of his mouth lifted in a gorgeous grin.

“I’m not exactly in the mood to wait that long, so maybe you could just block the wind with your body?” His smile spread as he stepped toward me, forcing my gaze to nervously bounce away.

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. Lung cancer and I broke up too.” After gathering the back of my wig into a ponytail, I pulled it over my shoulder and turned away from him. The chill of the wind blasted my face and roared over my ears as it rushed past me.

I went back to staring out at the dark, choppy water, becoming lost in the idea of how cold it might be.

Is tonight the night?


My feet would more than likely never leave the edge of that bridge, but there was a definite reason why I was imagining ending it all. Exactly zero other people in the world would understand why. I had it all, and I dreamed about losing it all—more often than I would ever admit, even to myself.

After stepping out of my heels, I slipped my foot between the bars on the railing. The wind slammed my bruised leg against the metal. “Shit,” I hissed as pain shot through me.

“You think that hurts? Imagine falling twenty-five stories then crashing into the water, which might as well be concrete, at speeds upward of seventy miles per hour,” the man said, leaning on the metal railing next to me.

“Wow. Someone’s done some research,” I said sarcastically, barely sparing him a glance.

“Daily,” he responded frankly, causing my surprised gaze to swing to his. Simply shrugging at my reaction, he turned his back to the railing and propped himself up on his colorfully tattooed forearms. “You forget I’ve been here the last three nights in a row too.” He smirked, lifting the cigarette up to his lips for a deep inhale.

“Listen, I’m not going to jump if you’re some kind of caped crusader on a mission. I just needed some fresh air.” I pointedly glanced at his cigarette.

A laugh escaped his mouth in a grey puff. “Fresh air is overrated. Especially given the reason you’re standing here.” He knowingly arched a dark-brown eyebrow.

“Riiiiight,” I drawled, rolling my eyes behind my glasses. “Okay, well, I was just heading out anyway.”

“Then my work here is done.” He bowed, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a smile as I stepped back into my shoes and walked away. 

I shook my head at the random stranger. Then, a thought struck me, stopping me only a few feet away. Spinning back to face him, I asked, “Wait. Were you reaching out to me as a cry for help?”

“Oh look. Designer Shoes has a conscience!” He dropped his cigarette to the damp ground, stepping on it with the toe of his well-worn, black boots. Bending over, he picked the butt up and tucked it in his pocket.

At least he didn’t litter.

“Oh look. Tattooed Stalker has jokes!” I smarted back.

He smiled, pulling another cigarette from his pocket and then pausing just before guiding it between his lips. “Were you judging me based on my tattoos? I’m offended.” He feigned anguish then laughed while lifting his lighter to once again battle the wind for a nicotine fix.

I wanted to walk away, but he wasn’t wrong. I did have a conscience, and right then, I was worried that it might really be his night to make good on his apparent numerous visits to the bridge.

With a huff, I headed back towards him, praying that I could wrap it up as quickly as possible then head back to my house for a few hours of sleep. Or, more likely, lie awake while staring at the ceiling and crying.

“Are you planning to jump for real?” I asked.

His smile fell as he focused on the water. “Nah. I don’t have the balls to do something like that. Talking to you wasn’t a plea for help or anything. You just look worse than usual tonight.” His gaze slid down to my battered legs.

“Oh!” I exclaimed in understanding. “That’s not at all what you’re thinking. I fell down some stairs.”

He quirked his lips in disbelief.

“I’m serious!”

“I’m sure you are,” he told the wind. “You can go. I’m good.”

I could have walked away, but for some reason, I pulled my jacket tighter around my shoulders and silently stood there while he finished his cigarette.

After a final deep inhale, he flicked it over the railing of the bridge.

Apparently, he does litter.

Turning to me, his face became serious. “You need to call the cops before he makes the decision to end it all for you.”

“Who?” I asked, watching the burning ember hit the metal column then explode in a million different sparks before disappearing down to the water below. 

Lucky cigarette.

“The stairs…and whatever inanimate object you’re blaming for those bruises you’re hiding behind sunglasses at one in the morning. You should call the cops before…” His voice trailed off, but his dark gaze narrowed on mine. His eyes bored into my hidden stare, combining with the rain and wind to send chills down my spine.

I took the moment to secretly assess him. He was insanely sexy, but nothing like the men I was accustomed to. His chin was the kind of scruffy that made women weak, but it was obvious he didn’t pay four hundred dollars for his personal hairstylist to shape it. Judging by his shaggy, brown hair that begged for me to thread my fingers in it, I wasn’t sure he was even a barbershop kind of guy. He stood a few inches taller than I was in heels, so I pegged him at around six one. And while his tattooed forearms were deliciously sculpted and his shoulders were notably defined, his body didn’t appear to be swollen with muscles from hours spent at the gym. By the aura of bad boy he gave off, I would have expected him to be a self-consumed, arrogant prick.

He wasn’t though.

He was just an average guy worrying about the well-being of an average girl.

Only he couldn’t have been more wrong, and a pang of guilt hit me hard.

Just not hard enough for me to do anything to correct his assumptions about who I was.

Very softly, I attempted to put his fears to rest. “I promise it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Okay,” he responded, unconvinced. He nodded to himself before dragging another cigarette from his pocket.

I watched him struggle for a second before I scooted towards him, using my body to block the wind.

Biting the cigarette between his straight, white teeth, he smiled devilishly around it. “Thanks.” Flicking the flame to life, he hunched over until a stream of smoke swirled up from the red tip.

“You should stop smoking.”

“Noted.” He exhaled through his nose.

We went back to silently staring over the side of the bridge. The familiar lights of the San Francisco skyline danced all around us. And, even as tourists and locals alike passed by us, I felt an odd, and unbelievably comfortable, isolation standing there with him.

When my teeth began to chatter, his attention was drawn my way. “I’m not here to jump. You really can go.”

I nodded but didn’t move away.

He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his biceps for warmth.

“How are you not frozen?” I asked, taking in his thin Henley for the first time since we met.

Shrugging, he dropped his cigarette, answering as he bent to retrieve it. “Thick skin? I’m used to it? I come here a lot? I’m half Eskimo?” 

I eyed him suspiciously. “You’re cold, aren’t you?”

“Fucking. Freezing,” he admitted, tucking his arms close to his body and blowing into his hands. “I just came up here for one smoke. Then I saw you. Now, come on. Be a lady and loan a man a jacket,” he joked, tugging on the edge of my coat.

I laughed, hugging it even tighter around my body and stepping out of his reach. “How about we both just leave? Then neither of us have to worry about the other plummeting to their death.”

“Sounds like an amazing plan.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the tattered jeans riding low on his hips. As we began the hike back down to the foot of the bridge, he asked, “You have a name, Designer Shoes?”

I smiled and shook my head, not willing to lie—or divulge the truth.

“Yeah. Me either,” he replied.

I bit my bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Side by side, we trudged the rest of the way in silence.

When we got to the foot of the bridge, he turned to face me and sighed. “Well, I genuinely hope I never see you again.”

My head snapped back in shock, and maybe a little hurt.

But he quickly corrected himself. “No! I just mean… Shit.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair while I watched, amused. “I just mean, given the way we met… I…um. I hope you never have a reason to go back up there.”

I teasingly tipped my head to the side. “But I really like the view.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Of course, the view. Okay, well, have a good night.”

“You too.” I smiled tightly, but my feet didn’t budge. I told myself that it was because I didn’t want him to see my car or the bodyguard waiting for me behind the wheel. But, in reality, I just wasn’t ready to leave. Home wasn’t where I wanted to be. I didn’t actually want to be anywhere.

Not even standing at the foot of a bridge, talking to a witty and sexy man.

Okay, maybe I wanted that a little bit.

“Yep. Have a good night,” he repeated, shoving his hands inside his pockets and slowly backing away.

I gave him a quick wave, which he returned before he jogged in the other direction.

I smiled to myself, shaking my head at the entire interaction—secretly lamenting that it hadn’t been longer.


DOMINIC (Slater Brothers #1) by L.A. Casey


WARNING: If you don't like a leading male that is a possessive pr**k, Dominic is NOT for you. If you don't like a leading female that is a stubborn bi**h, Dominic is NOT for you. If you don't like over the top drama and characters who have bad tempers, Dominic is NOT for you. Most of all, if you don't like characters who CURSE A LOT and say EXACTLY what they feel and are thinking without sugar coating it then Dominic is REALLY NOT for you.

After a car accident killed her parents when she was a child, Bronagh Murphy chose to box herself off from people in an effort to keep herself from future hurt. If she doesn't befriend people, talk to them or acknowledge them in any way they leave her alone just like she wants.

When Dominic Slater enters her life, ignoring him is all she has to do to get his attention. Dominic is used to attention, and when he and his brothers move to Dublin, Ireland for family business, he gets nothing but attention. Attention from everyone except the beautiful brunette with a sharp tongue.

Dominic wants Bronagh and the only way he can get to her, is by dragging her from the boxed off corner she has herself trapped in the only way he knows force.

Dominic wants her, and what Dominic wants, Dominic gets.


“Dominic, move out of me way!”

“Are you going to puke?” he asked as he still stood in my way.

“Yeah, I’m goin’ to puke, and I’m aimin’ for you so move!” I warned.

Dominic snorted. “Nah, you don’t look like you will be sick, you’re obviously having stomach pain though.”

“Thank you for that observation doctor Fuckface, now fuckin’ move!” I spat.

Dominic laughed at me then glanced to my hands. “I’ll happily move…when you give me those cookies.”

I held the cookies to my chest as I would with a newly born infant.

“No fuckin’ way, I got them first!”

Dominic rolled his eyes. “They are mostly likely the last triple chocolate cookies in the entire store since you had to get them from the very back of the shelf. If you want me to move, then you will give them to me.”

“They were the last two packets in the shop, but I’m not givin’ you either of them, and if you don’t move I’ll scream rape and have you arrested!” I warned.

He tipped his head back and laughed, so I took the opportunity and maneuvered around him. I used one hand to hold the cookies to my chest and the other to grab my trolley.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

When I felt hands come around my stomach from behind, I almost died.

He was touching me!

Dominic Slater had his hands on my stomach and had his body pressed into my back.

Oh, my Jesus.

Did this motherfucker have a death wish?

“I’ll give you three seconds to get your hands and body away from me, otherwise I will knock you the fuck out!”

Dominic’s chuckle in my ear made my body tense up even more than it already was.

“You think you can take me, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl?

Was he trying to be funny or something?

“I do!” I snapped then said, “Don’t call me that again!”

“I can call you what I like and say what I like to you, freedom of speech and all that.”

“You’re so stupid…get off me!” I snapped then gasped when one of his arms came up and made a blatant grab for my cookies.

No. Bloody. Way!

I lifted my leg and kicked back against Dominic’s shin; he grunted as he jumped back away from me. I whirled around and glared at him while he shook out his leg probably trying to shake the pain away.

“You fucking bitch!” he hissed.

I smiled to him. “That will be your balls if you ever touch me again. Have you not learned your lesson that touchin’ me results in me hittin’ you?”

He rolled his eyes and rubbed his cheek as if still feeling the pain of the slap I delivered to him on Wednesday for touching my arse.

He dropped his hands and grinned at me. “You have a phat ass, I couldn’t help myself from having a feel.”

I gaped at him.

He just called me fat.

He actually just called me fat.

I don’t care if I looked the size of a whale; you just don’t call a girl fat, especially to her fucking face.

The insult hurt me, and I hated that. I wanted to hurt Dominic back so I threw the insult back at him even though there was nothing but trimmed muscle on him.

“You are fat!” I snapped then turned and grabbed my trolley with one hand and began to push it away.

Fuckface stopped me though.

He wedged himself between me and my trolley. I didn’t like it, not one bit.

“I didn’t call you fat.”

The dirty liar!

I growled at him. “You did too, you lying sack of shite!”

“I said you have a phat ass, there is a difference,” he stated.


“No there isn’t, you said me arse is fat-“

“Phat as in sexy,” he purred.

I stared at him, suppressing the urge to beat him to death with my cookies.

“Fat is not sexy,” I stated.

“When you have a fat ass it is,” Dominic said, still standing in front of me. “I don’t mean fat as in fat, I just meant it as in good type of big, not an obese type of big. You have a big butt, and that is sexy.”

Why the fuck were we having this conversation about my fat but not fat arse?

“I don’t give a damn. Me and me fat arse want to move on with our trolley so get outta the way.”

Dominic smirked and held out his hand and said, “Cookies first.”

I gripped the cookies tighter. “You will have to pry them from me cold, dead fingers, you overly tall bastard.”

Dominic smirked and took a step toward me; I panicked and swung my arm catching him across the face with my hand. He actually stumbled to the side and out of my way as he gripped his face. I shot forward, grabbed my trolley, and all but sprinted up the aisle.

“Bronagh!” he shouted.

I turned and headed straight for a check out till, more than ready to pay for the items and get home. People obviously heard Dominic shouting and looked to the aisle where I just shot out from. I pretended to be confused as well; I didn’t want anyone thinking I was the Bronagh that Dominic was shouting after.

I jumped into a queue and began to unload my trolley items onto the conveyor belt, while mentally shouting at the woman in front of me to hurry up and pack her things.

“I could have you arrested for assault, you know that right? That’s twice you hit me back there.”

I sighed, knowing he purposely chose to come to this till just to piss me off.

“It was self-defence, you put your hands on me first without permission,” I spat as I nudged my trolley forward without looking around at him.

“That’s bullshit,” Dominic snarled.

I rolled my eyes. “Get over it, you big baby.”

I surged forward when the lady in front of me was finished, and thankfully, the woman serving me had my stuff scanned and helped me bag them in record time.

“Those cookies are the nicest ones in the entire shop, they are always sold out.” The woman smiled when she tucked them into a bag.

I looked up to Dominic, who was glaring at me and making me smile before I looked at the woman.

“I agree, they are delicious.”

“Evil bitch,” Dominic muttered making the woman snap her head to him, and it caused me to snort a little.

I paid the woman, grabbed the three carrier bags, and heaved them down. They were heavy, and I hated that Branna wasn’t here with her car to help me bring them home.

I sucked in a large breath and made for the exit of the shop only to pause at the doors, almost whimpering there and then. It was absolutely lashing rain outside. I don’t know why I was so surprised, it always happened. It could be mild and cool here in Dublin one minute then belting rain the next.

I sighed and looked up at the sky after a full minute of just staring out at the rain. “You just can’t cut me a break, can you, Jesus?”

“I don’t think he replies to people who assault innocents.”

I jumped at his voice, which he laughed at.

I shook my head without looking at Dominic when he came to stand next to me. “How the hell did you pack your things and pay for them so quickly?” I questioned.

“Magic,” he replied.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, use some magic and disappear from me presence.”

Dominic snorted. “You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

I looked at him, narrowed my eyes and smiled. “I would love nothin’more than for you to disappear from the face of the earth, fuckface.”

Dominic looked like he suddenly wanted to murder me so I stepped away from him.

“No wonder you bought tampons, must be that time of the month.” He shook his head.

He saw my tampons?

Oh God!

I felt my face flush. “You shut the hell up!”

He grinned at me. “You’re seriously mean on your period.”

Oh, my God!

Get me the Hell out of here.

“Well, this was horrible, I hope we don’t run into each other here – or anywhere – ever again. Bad day to you, sir.” I bowed my head and stepped out into the rain.

I felt a chill run up my spine, so I straightened myself up, ignored the pain of the plastic bags digging into my fingers, and pushed on walking.

“Do you want a ride?” I heard Dominic’s voice shout from my far left.

I gasped and spun in his direction, noticing that he was moving toward a large black Jeep.

“You dirty bastard! How dare you ask me that!” I shouted.

Dominic paused his stride and looked at me with his eyebrows raised before he laughed.

“Crap, I meant a lift as in a lift home in my car. I didn’t mean a ride as in the meaning of what a ride is over here…I’m not asking you to ride me, Bronagh.”

I felt myself flush.

“Whatever, I don’t need a lift!” I turned and continue walking out of the car park and onto the pathway.

The rain was coming down so hard that it was dribbling down into my eyes, making it hard to see. I rubbed my eyes against my shoulder and pressed on.

I never minded the rain – I was used to it – and actually liked walking in it when it rained hard. But not when I was carrying heavy things. I glared at Dominic’s Jeep when it passed me by, then screamed when he came close to the path causing dirty water to splash up all over me.

“You bloody twat!” I screamed as loud as I could.

I had dropped my shopping bags during the soaking, so I quickly bent down to pick them up. I swear Dominic was lucky everything I bought was in sealed packaging and wouldn’t be destroyed by the water.

“I know you won’t believe me but I was actually pulling up beside you to offer you a ride again. I really didn’t mean to get you all wet.” Dominic’s voice shouted out from his car – the passenger side window was rolled down – then followed with a laugh.

He was laughing at me!

I growled as I looked to my right and glared into the opened window of Dominic’s SUV. I used my shoulder to get the water out of my eyes again before spitting some out of my mouth.


His eyebrows jumped a little at my shouting, but I didn’t care. Fuck him. I turned and pretty much jogged away and all the way home. I didn’t stop moving until I was safely inside my house. I sank down to my arse with the hall door pressed to my back.

“Bronagh? Is that you? I got off early and tried ringin’ you to see if you needed-” Branna’s voice was cut off mid-sentence before a muffled laugh quickly filled up the silence. “You look like a soaked rat!”

I growled and leaned my head back against the door and closed my eyes. I winced a little when my stomach began to cramp up, adding further horribleness to my shitty day.

“I didn’t think it was rainin’ that hard. You’re seriously soaked, Bee, what happened?”

I grunted as I continued to sit on the floor, shopping bags gathered around me. I could easily tell her that an American prick soaked me with his car after harassing me inside the supermarket, but I honestly didn’t want to talk about Dominic or even think about the arsehole.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fuming that I was soaked to the bone and annoyed that I had a female reproductive system, I leaned my head back against the door and closed my eyes again before exhaling loudly. Dominic was pretty much to blame for one of those things, so I decided to blame everything that was wrong with me on him, as well.

It is official, I now and will forever more hate Dominic Slater.

L.A. Casey is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author who juggles her time between her mini-me and writing. She was born, raised and currently resides in Dublin, Ireland. She enjoys chatting with her readers, who love her humour and Irish accent as much as her books.

Casey's first book, DOMINIC, was independently published in 2014 and became an instant success on Amazon. Now a hybrid author, she is both traditionally and independently published and is represented by Mark Gottlieb from Trident Media Group.

SALE BLITZ - Be My December by Rachel Brookes

Title: Be My December
Series: The Crawford Brothers #1
Author: Rachel Brookes
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: August 27, 2015


I knew the exact moment I’d become a ‘yes’ girl.
December 16th, a cold winter’s night, four years ago.
The night my innocence was stolen, the night I made the mistake of saying no—a mistake I’d never make again.
The dream of a ‘happily ever after' was now a locked away myth. I promised myself that I’d never return to the place of my worst nightmare, that I’d never let anyone get close, but then again, I never thought I’d meet someone like him.
The intense, confident and beautiful Ky Crawford.

I had no plans to become someone’s Prince Charming.
I couldn’t be. I refused to be. My plan was simple—do whatever it takes to correct my biggest mistake, my one regret that now controlled my life.
I was on track. I had plans, but then everything changed when I saw her—the girl in the red jacket, the girl who I was told couldn’t say no.
The reserved yet stunning Eden Rivers.

A girl who can’t say no.
A guy who craves redemption.
A chance encounter?

It all comes down to this.
One question.
One month.

Be My December?

Buy now for 99c!!!


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Rachel Brookes is from the east coast of Australia and writes angst ridden love stories with a pinch of craziness, a dash of drama, a cup of romance, and a bucketload of sexiness. With five novels currently published, she is constantly writing and getting ready to release her next hero and heroine into the world. An avid reader, Rachel can often be found with her kindle in her hand, and getting lost in a happily ever after. She has an unhealthy obsession with The Walking Dead, and social media, and loves hearing from readers at

Release Blitz: Forever by JB McGee


Release Day Blitz 


Book Title: Forever 
Author: J.B. McGee 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: December 26, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

Goodreads Button with Shadow

Book Blurb

Tensions run high when Bradley rocks the boat of wedded bliss by inviting Gabe, Sam, Ryan, Joe, and their families to spend Christmas Day with Gabby and him.

Sam finds herself torn between the man she loves and the ones she thinks she doesn’t.

Will the rift between Gabby and Sam continue to spread? Will everyone be able to finally leave the past behind?

When tragedy strikes, will they realize everything is temporary except Forever?


Joe opens the door before I even ring the bell. “Hey.” He looks me up and down.

“Hi.” I want to say more, but my body freezes. He’s still pale, has dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is a mess. “Were you expecting someone?” My eyes search his. Even though he’d look sexy no matter what, my heart squeezes to the point it hurts. Is this because of me? Did I do this to him on the stairs? I just saw him a few hours ago. How is it he looks like this so quickly? “You look...” I want to say terrible, but he doesn’t.

He leans his body against the door. Clearly he isn’t going anywhere. His jeans hang from his hips, giving a slight glimpse of his gray boxers. He’s not wearing a shirt, which reveals a smattering of short, trimmed hair over his bare chest. His nipples are erect and tiny bumps erupt from his naturally tanned skin.

Breathe, Sam.

My eyes wander further down to the way his hips cut into a perfect V like a perfectly sculpted action figure with all the clothing stripped away. I’d compare him to a Ken doll, but I draw in a breath when I think about Barbie. Joe’s too beautiful to be Ken, and I’m not nearly plastic enough to be her. Maybe this was a bad idea.

He clears his throat, and my eyes fixate on his hips as my tongue darts out. I exhale the air I’ve been holding in my lungs. It meets with the cold, dry December atmosphere, and condensation fills the space between our bodies like rain hitting the blacktop during a summer storm.

Ryan’s hips make this formation, too, but there’s something about Joe’s that has warmth radiating throughout my body and a dull ache growing between my legs. I gulp as I point my head toward his body. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”

He stares at me, his lips curving into a small smirk. “What do you want, Sam?”

“Are you alone?”





Meet the Author

J.B. McGee was born and raised in Aiken, South Carolina. She is the mother of two beautiful children and a stay at home mom/entrepreneur. She finished her Bachelor of Arts degree in Early Childhood Education at the University of South Carolina-Aiken in 2006. During her time studying children's literature, a professor encouraged her to become a writer.

In 2011, it was discovered that both her children, she, and her husband have Mitochondrial Disease, a disease that has no cure or treatments. Being a writer allows J.B. to remain close to her family, raise awareness for mito, and to lose herself in the stories that she creates for her readers.

J.B. McGee and her family now reside in Buford, Georgia. She is an Amazon Top 100 bestselling author of her debut series, the 'THIS' Series.

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