Teasers, Excerpt & Giveaway! Didn't I Warn You? ( Bad for You #1 ) by Amber Bardan

April 18th, 2016 (Digital), May 24th (Print)

Carina Press

April 18th, 2016 (Digital), May 1st 2016 (Print)

Harlequin Australia

Not everything dangerous is bad. 

From the moment Angelina laid eyes on him, she fell into a fantasy. Mysterious, foreign, gorgeous, Haithem offered her what she needed most—a chance to feel again.

But Haithem is much more than he appears to be. He lives in a world of danger where everything comes at a price.

For Angelina, that price is her future. 

He's made sure the life she's left behind is in tatters. Made her family believe she's dead. Still, he talks about protecting her, about keeping her safe, but she can't distinguish his truth from his lies. She can't separate her pleasure from his betrayal.

Haithem warned her. He told her he'd make her heart race, her body come alive and her most primal needs rush to the surface. His for the taking.

He didn't say she'd come to love the devil who's destroying her, even as he keeps her prisoner.

Amazon US | Amazon AU

B & N | GooglePlay | iTunes | Kobo | Goodreads

“I swear—you never existed. I never met you at all.”

His gaze flicked to my touch, and stuck there as though the touching of him was not something that was usually done. His expression shivered and whatever I thought I saw vanished. He rose to his feet. “I’m afraid a promise made under duress is no promise at all.”

“What do you mean, duress?” I leaped off the bed.

He strode for the door. Apparently, he thought our conversation was over. Pity—I wasn’t done. I followed him onto the deck.

Salty air swept hair across my face.

“It’s not as if you’ve threatened me, so I’m not under duress.”

He paused, pushed the notepad into his pocket and turned. “You think someone has to hold a gun to your head for you to be helpless?” His movements changed, went sharp yet somehow also slinky. He walked—not to me but around me. “I have all the power, all the say. And you—” he pointed his finger directly at me “—you, Angel, are a scared girl who wants to go home.”

His words whipped me like lashings from the wind. Painful, cutting lashes that made me want to cry. He stalked me, closing his circle just as surely as a shark. My veins spurted adrenaline, instinct compelling me to run.

But I didn’t run. That would break the dubious politeness he’d affected, and this small glimpse at what lay underneath was enough to shake the skin around me.

There was nowhere to run. He’d catch me, and—god help me—I might even enjoy it.

I might enjoy something so real and so raw as being caught, even if it hurt. No polite control. Nothing proper or respectable. Just real.

He walked and walked, round and around. My neck strained to keep up with him. I couldn’t drop my gaze, couldn’t let him out of my peripheral vision.

“You owe me nothing. I expect nothing from you. I trust no promises from you.” His voice softened, whispered around me from what felt like all directions. He stopped directly behind me, his hands coming down on my shoulders so I couldn’t turn. “But this doesn’t have to be a nightmare. It doesn’t have to be a trap or a prison.” He pulled me back against him, and suddenly his arms were around me and the beast was gone, replaced instead by a comforting protector.

My pulse jumped. How quickly he could change.

“This isn’t fair. For that, I owe you, and I always honor my debts.”

I’d slipped into hyperawareness—of the arm around my waist, the body at my back, the voice in my ear. I could almost see myself in his arms, standing like a waxwork, so still and glassy-eyed. Mesmerized.

“I saw your face when you told me you’re smothered so tightly you can’t breathe,” he whispered. “You could be free…” He brushed his cheek against my temple. “No one around. You could be yourself.”

He rocked me, so softly I almost missed the shift of my weight from one side to the other. I no longer knew if I was holding myself up.

“I can give you sunsets on the ocean. I can show you space so endless you’ll lose yourself.”

My hair caught on his bristles.

“Have you ever run down a deserted beach, Angel?” His hand moved on my belly. “Have you ever swum naked in salt water?” His voice penetrated my head, my blood, sinking down somewhere even deeper.

“Imagine three weeks where anything you ask will be indulged. All your demands met. Ask me for something—ask me for anything.”

My eyes closed.

“Do you need someone to hear you?” His word curled into my ear so gently, I felt the heat of his body in his breath. “I’ll listen to you talk for days.”

He touched my chest, pressed his palm flat against me.

I twitched.

“You can tell me what it is you keep buried in here. What you’re holding on to so tightly that you can’t let go. You can give it all to me, Angel. Just hand it all over to me…”

Air flooded my lungs, and I lunged out of his grasp. My heart beat so fast, I could imagine coronary damage taking place. I turned and faced him, backing out of reach.

Had I let him read me so thoroughly? Had I laid out my weakness so well that he could drive himself into my head and fuck me there?

Because that’s what he was doing—he was fucking my mind. I knew it. He knew it.

It was working

After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber Bardan finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fueled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge. 

She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.

Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Can't Wait for Book Two...Pre-Order Now

DIDN'T YOU PROMISE

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | GooglePlay 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Teasers, Author Interview, Excerpt & Giveaway! The Warrior Prophet, The Watcher Saga #3 by Lisa Voisin

Mia Crawford is a prophet.

She can see angels. She also sees demons. Everywhere.

The angels are preparing for war to get her fallen angel boyfriend, Michael, back. A war that could take years.

Haunted by visions of Michael’s soul being tortured, Mia can’t rest until she knows he’s safe.

To save him, she must make an impossible journey through Hell with the one person she prayed she’d never see again.

Amazon B&N Kobo Goodreads

He tucks his wings into himself, but they are still so close I could touch them. He walks a small circle around me. Still a dance.

“That’s very different,” he says.

“I don’t see how. I am human. They are my people.”

He bends forward until his face is inches from mine. “Your mother had passed. You needed me. We’re allowed to appear when we are needed.”

His breath warms my cheek and it’s all I can do not to lean closer. 

“Really?” My eyes search his for a sign—any sign—of feelings for me. “She died ten moons ago.” Did only pity bring him? “Why did you stay?”

A light breeze ruffles the leaves overhead. It’s warm but welcome. Michael backs away, the tops of his cheeks lit with pink. He swallows and his Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. “Perhaps I needed you.”

His voice is music, and his energy hums through me, making me bold. I couldn’t imagine him needing anyone, least of all me. With a smile, I glance at him and hold up the feathery filament. A small piece of his magic, its light sparkles and plays along my hand, the lines of his throat and jaw, the front of his tunic.

“If I return this,” I say. “What will you give me in exchange?”

“Well.” He frowns and thoughtfully strokes his chin, but his eyes are still smiling. “What do you want? Riches and jewels aren’t mine to command. I am but a humble servant.”

“Can you make it rain? It would be good for my father’s crops.”

“You know I cannot,” he scolds. “Doing so would be interfering.”

I do know, but enjoy the game, the way he looks at me as though he sees something hidden deep inside me, the secret of who I am.

“How about a kiss?” I ask.

He casts his gaze to the ground and bows his head. “Of course. A blessing.” He rests his hands on my shoulders, and even that light touch scorches me. White-hot like the sun.

Closing his eyes, he leans in to kiss my forehead, but I want a real kiss. Not the kiss of an angel, but of a lover. I rise to my toes, lifting my chin, and press my lips to his.

Hi, Lisa! Tell us a bit about yourself.

Hi! Thank you so much for having me on your blog today. I’m thrilled to be here.

As you’ve probably guessed, I’m an author of young adult fiction. In my spare time, I lead a writing group for teens in my home town of North Vancouver, Canada. I’m also a meditation teacher who’s curious about all things metaphysical. My 15 years of metaphysical study piqued an interest in angels and demons that only writing about them could satisfy.

On a more personal note, I live with my fiancé and our two cats. 

How long have you been writing?

I've been writing stories since I was in elementary school. I kept writing through high school, to the point where I preferred writing stories over doing other homework. My parents started to get concerned about me and tried to talk me out of this ridiculous notion that I could be an author.

They won out for a little while, then I went to university and took up technical writing just to prove I could earn an income from the written word. Though my mom is no longer around to see me follow my dreams, my dad is now one of my biggest supporters. 

Your book, The Warrior Prophet, is about angels. Who’s your favorite angel? In books? In TV? In movies?

On TV, I love Castiel from the show Supernatural. I think he’s incredibly complex and very funny and I just love the way he smites! I even love the word “smite”. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I’m also fond of Lucifer from the new TV series with the same name.

In books, I’m a huge Neil Gaiman fan, so I loved his Radio play Murder Mysteries, and Aziraphale from the book Good Omens. 

In movies, I really enjoyed Wim Wenders’ film, Wings of Desire, and the angels in that.

If you were to have your heroine, Mia Crawford over for dinner, what would you cook and why?

I don’t cook as much as I used to. My fiancé does the cooking. If it weren’t for him, I’d never have time to write! But if I were to cook, I’d probably make Mia a chicken curry of some sort, because she seems to eat chicken a lot. 

So you meditate. How does meditation help you with writing? How does it hinder it?

All my ideas come from meditation. Because I also have a day job as a technical writer, I need to clear my mind at the end of the day in order to let the ideas come forward. Meditation helps me to silence the inner critic that holds me back from writing and calm the stress of daily life that can get in the way of the creative process. I’d say the only way that meditation has ever hindered writing is that sometimes, after I’ve gone pretty deep, it takes me a little while to find words again. When I truly shut off the inner monologue and get to a place of being, I do get ideas or downloads of information. Sometimes, the information links together in unusual ways. 

After years of meditation, you start to think differently, for example, I know how to turn off my inner critic. It still springs up from time to time, but I know it for what it is. Because everyone has one, it can be difficult sometimes to create an authentic character voice without adding it back in. It adds an inner adversary to the character’s thoughts.

What was your favorite part to write in The Warrior Prophet and why?

I think I had more fun writing The Warrior Prophet than I have any other book. I believe it’s because I know the characters and their world so well. It was simply great to spend time with them again. Ironically, I think the most fun part to write about was Hell. It was really fun to come up with such a dark place where there are no limits to how bad things can get. It was also really fun to write interplay between Mia and her “guide”, because their interaction came naturally. I also really enjoyed writing some of the scenes from Mia and Michael’s past life together.

A Canadian-born author, Lisa Voisin spent her childhood daydreaming and making up stories, but it was her love of reading and writing in her teens that drew her to Young Adult fiction. 

Lisa is a technical writer, a meditation teacher, and the leader of the Lynn Valley Literary Society’s Young Writer’s Club, a writing group for teens. A self-proclaimed coffee lover, she can usually be found writing in a local café. When she's not writing, you'll find her meditating or hiking in the mountains.

Though she’s lived in several cities across Canada, she currently lives in Vancouver, B.C. with her fiancé and their two cats.

More about Lisa can be found on her web site: http://www.lisavoisin.com.

Website Facebook Twitter Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Teasers, Excerpt & Giveaway! Sweet Texas Fire by Nicole Flockton

Gage Cooper has always wanted the family cabin. Not only for the oil on the property, but as a way to prove to his father that Gage’s past doesn’t define his future. When his dad wills the land to stranger Charlotte Wilkinson and all Gage gets is a mysterious key, he’s determined to do anything to get his rightful inheritance back.

Charlotte Wilkinson never expected to inherit a piece of property in Sweet Ridge, Texas—the Aussie businesswoman is focused on building an environmental analyst career here in the States. But the moment arrogant oil-man Gage Cooper walks into her office accusing her of seducing his father, all plans for selling the property to him fly out the window.

Then fate threatens to send her back to Australia and the dueling duo are forced to accept a fake marriage to keep their dreams alive. But as they discover common ground and a surprising chemistry together, suddenly Gage must decide what’s worth more: the land he’s always coveted or a future with Charlotte.

Amazon B&N iTunes Kobo Goodreads

“So, why are you here, Charlotte?” he spoke loudly enough to be heard over the background noise. 

“Here as in the bar, or here as in Sweet Ridge?”

“Both.”

“Well, you know why I’m here at the bar—Macy invited me. And as for being in Sweet Ridge, I figured it was time I saw the piece of land I inherited.”

He wanted to ask her whether she’d spoken to the lawyer about selling the land to him, but the middle of a bar on a Friday night was hardly the place to do it. Still, he couldn’t wait to sign the papers granting him ownership. He would ensure he paid her a fair price. Fuck it, what did it matter if he asked her now? He opened his mouth to speak. 

Charlotte placed a finger on his mouth, and his whole body zeroed in on her touch. “Don’t do it.” 

“Do what?” 

“I see the look in your face, Gage. I know you want to ask, but can we please not do this tonight? I just want to enjoy my drink and then go back to the hotel. I don’t want to get into any discussions about land or inheritances.” 

He saw the tiredness in Charlotte’s eyes. He could relate to the look. He’d had a hell of a week, and not fifteen minutes ago he’d been enjoying his brothers’ company. Why not continue to unwind on a Friday night and leave inheritance issues alone? 

“Fair enough. Do you want to meet for breakfast or lunch tomorrow?”

“Lunch sounds good. Do you want to meet at Betty Lou’s Diner?”

Not even a raised eyebrow in surprise at his suggestion. Nothing seemed to rattle Charlotte Wilkinson.

“Not unless you want the whole town to know your business. Betty Lou isn’t happy unless she’s finding out what everyone is up to. I don’t go to the diner. How about we meet here instead? It’s not as busy as this on a Saturday afternoon.” 

“That works, say twelve thirty?” 

The bartender arrived with their drinks. Gage handed him some money and picked up their drinks. “Yep. Now, do you want to go back to my lovely brothers and Macy, or do you want to see if we can find a table?” 

“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather head back to where your brothers are. I think they know where I stand now and won’t give me too much hassle.” 

“Okay.” He began to weave through the crowd again. He made sure Charlotte was by his side. “I think they’ve learned their lesson. Unless, of course, they do decide to torment you like older brothers do just so they can hear you tell them off in your cool accent.” 

Charlotte shook her head. “Seriously, I have no idea why my accent fascinates everyone so much.” 

He could tell her that he found her accent sexy and wished she’d whisper to him all night. He knew it wouldn’t be appreciated if he voiced his thoughts. Even he was having issues with why he was becoming fascinated with her when two days ago he was ripping her character to shreds. With the way she handled his brothers, he had no doubt she’d captivated Dad with her bright personality and intelligence, and Jack Cooper would’ve been smitten by her accent, too. 

“That’s because it’s so different and proper and as Macy said, ‘cool.’” 

“You’re all crazy, and really you don’t have to worry about me when it comes to your brothers. I’ve got three older ones. I can hold my own.” 

“I’ll just bet you can,” he said below his breath. 

“Hey, where are our drinks?” Grayson complained when Gage and Charlotte arrived back at the pool table. He placed their drinks on the high table. 

“Yeah, why isn’t the oil baron shouting a round of drinks for us?” Gavin piped in. “Oh, and before I forget, I need you at the clinic tomorrow morning. I’ve got something for you that I know you’re going to love.” 

“I’ll be there when you open. With regards to your drinks, they’re at the bar, where you can go and order them yourselves. Besides, I’m not going to be seen ordering Gray’s girlie gin and tonic. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” 

Gavin snorted. “Good one, Gage.” 

He should make more of an effort to spend time with them. He’d cut himself off because he’d fucked up his life and couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in their eyes. It was bad enough to see it in Dad’s eye. All of the Coopers had wanted him to get drafted to one of the Texas teams; Gavin and Dad didn’t care if it was the Texans or the Cowboys, but Gray was Cowboys all the way. He’d often joked with them about being drafted by the Patriots or Seahawks, but at the end of the day they wanted him close to them. 

And then when his dream had blown up amidst underage drinking, breaking athletic curfew, and fraternity pranks, he’d gone and left them anyway. Cut himself off totally. 

“Hey, where did you go?” A soft hand touching his arm pulled him from his dark thoughts. 

“Down the lonely path called memory lane.”

“Didn’t look like it was a pleasant journey.”

It was amazing how, when he focused solely on Charlotte, all the outside noise from the bar disappeared and they were in a vacuum of silence. “It is what it is, and I have to live with the choices I made. But this isn’t why we’re here.” 

He allowed the noise back in to consume his dark thoughts. Bar noise was much better than the noise of his own voice telling him what a fuckup he was.

Bestselling author Nicole Flockton writes sexy contemporary romances, seducing you one kiss at a time as you turn the pages. Nicole likes nothing better than taking characters and creating unique situations where they fight to find their true love.

On her first school report her teacher noted "Nicole likes to tell her own stories". It wasn’t until after the birth of her first child and after having fun on a romance community forum that she finally decided to take the plunge and write a book.

Apart from writing Nicole is busy looking after her very own hero – her wonderfully supportive husband, and two fabulous kids. She also enjoys watching sports and, of course, reading.

Website Facebook Twitter Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt & Giveaway! Walker, Bad Boys of X-Ops #1 by Rie Warren

Spinning off from the two #1 bestselling Amazon series—Carolina Bad Boys and Bad Boys of Retribution MC, headliners in Erotica Humor, Thrillers, and Suspense—come more deliciously dangerous, scandalously sexy stories, a whole new level of hotness starting with Walker.

Explosives are Walker’s specialty, but he’s never handled anything as combustible as his enemy, Jade Huntington.

WALKER 

Goddammit. All I want to do is blow shit up. Is that too much to ask? But, no. What I get is mission frigging impossible in the middle of a Beirut hotbed. I’m the renegade of Operation T-Zone, but this time I swear I’m gonna do things by the book. That is, until Jade Huntington’s involvement in my op causes a brand new snafu. 

My tribal name means desperate warrior, and that’s exactly what I am for reasons I can’t outrun. And Jade? She’s personal enemy number one. An incredibly sexy one at that. But she’ll never find out just how desperate I am for her. 

JADE 

I’m not an assassin, even though I am badass. I’m a protector. Except when it comes to Walker. What I wouldn’t give to bore a bullet through his stubborn skull. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years, this time I’m determined to leave him in the dust after I shoot a few holes in him. 

We’re forced to work together when Walker practically kidnaps me and my package: the woman I’m guarding, the target he’s assigned to take out. 

Days on the run. Nights of enforced closeness. Fighting side by side. Ever-present danger ignites a desire I can’t control. But the endgame is so perilous Walker and I might not make it out alive. 

Four X-Ops alpha men. Four feisty wicked women. Four books you’ll want to sink your teeth into. Bad Boys of X-Ops.

Back to back, spring 2016!:

Walker

Justice

Storm

Bane

I relaxed my stance, lounging slightly back. “You know what I like to do when I need to expel some energy, Jade?” Her name came out buttery soft with a slight dare. 

My eyes lowered to the dangerous curves of her body and the atmosphere shifted again, compelling me closer to her sensual heat. 

Her gaze widened, the green of her irises drowning in darker depths. 

“What?” she asked, breathless and not backing down. 

“Fuck or fight. So what’s it gonna be?”

“Fight,” she declared.

I loped forward to the center of the room. “Here’s the deal, if I win, we fuck.”

“If I win, you’re dead.” She flashed a challenging grin at me, getting into combat stance.

“Bring it.” I curled my fingers in her direction. 

I usually didn’t hit chicks, but the truth was I couldn’t wait to get physical with thia woman anyway I could. 

We stalked briefly around one another, balancing on the balls of our bare feet, lunging and snaking away before any strikes landed on flesh. 

The heat in the room multiplied by a million degrees when Jade whipped off her hoodie, revealing a tight black tank top that showed off the sleek sinews of her arms and shoulders. 

My low wolf whistle seemed to really set her off. 

Surprise.

With a high shriek, she leaped across the air. Coming down, she planted her heel in my solar plexus. Before I could recoil her hand captured my braid, and she cuffed me across the face.

I thrust her away with my knee at her chest so she stumbled a few steps. 

“Nice move.” I swiped the blood from my mouth. 

“I learned it from watching you. You fight like a girl.” 

“And you got a big mouth. Hope you can back it up.”

Jade grunted, pouncing forward. I ducked the blow she aimed at my ribs then rose behind her. Cinching her wrists in my fist, I held her hands immobile at the base of her spine. 

I pulled her against me. Sweat drizzled between my chest and her back. The muscles in my arms and shoulders bunched with restraint.

Her ass moved almost imperceptibly against my steel-hard cock, and she gasped before growling.

Squeezing her fingers together into a tight funnel, she cranked her head back against my throat. She slipped free while I bent over, taking in deep draws of O2.

Whirling on me, Jade bit out, “Come on, baby. Hit me. You’re the one who suggested a fight.”

“Actually, I was angling for a fuck.” I reeled away from her incoming roundhouse kick before she made contact. “But what can I say? Lady’s choice.”

“Then you actually have to fight me to get it.” Her tits rose and fell with the harsh breaths in and out of her lungs. “Your rules.”

I growled and lowered down on my haunches, prowling in a circle around her. “That what it takes to get you going, Jade?”

“You don’t have what it takes.”

Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series. 

A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around. 

You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html

Website Facebook Twitter Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt & Giveaway! Secret Child, Royal Scandal, The Sherdana Royals #3 by Cat Schield

The prince must produce an heir. Little does he know, he already has… 

Christian Alessandro lives life in the fast lane. But royal duty calls, and the bachelor prince must settle down and sire the future king of Sherdana. That's when a chance encounter with former flame Noelle Dubone yields a bombshell discovery: Christian's already a father! Marrying Noelle will make his boy the legitimate heir. It's a rocky reunion. The determined dressmaker refuses to fall in love—or in bed!—with Christian again, even as old, intense feelings return with a vengeance. But what the prince wants, the prince gets…

Amazon | B & N | Google Play | iTunes | Kobo | Goodreads

One of the photographer's assistants came to fetch them for more pictures, putting an end to the conversation for the moment. Christian endured another tedious hour of being posed with his brothers, his sister, the king and queen, and various members of the wedding party. By the time the session was finished, he was ready to get drunker than he'd been in the five years since the accident that left him with a disfigured body to match his tarnished soul.

What stopped him from making a beeline for the bar was Noelle. 

It seemed perfectly right to walk up behind her and slip his arm around her waist. Christian dropped a kiss on her cheek the way he had a hundred times, a habit from the old days that used to speak to his strong affection for her. For a microsecond Noelle relaxed against him, accepting his touch as if no time or hurt had passed between them. Then she tensed. 

"You look beautiful," he murmured in her ear. 

She didn't quite jerk away from him, but she lacked her usual grace in her quick sideways step. "Thank you, Your Royal Highness." 

"Walk with me." It was more a command than an invitation 

"I really shouldn't leave the party." She glanced toward the bride and groom as if hoping to spot someone who needed her. 

"The photos are done. The bride has no further need of her designer. I'd like to catch up with you. It's been a long time." 

"As you wish, Your Highness." To his annoyance, she curtsied, gaze averted. 

The gardens behind the palace were extensive and scrupulously maintained under the queen's watchful eye. The plantings closest to the I-shaped structure that housed Sherdana's royal family were arranged in terms of design and color that changed with the seasons. This was the most photographed section of the garden with its formal walkways and dramatic fountains. 

Toward the back of the extensive acreage that surrounded the palace, the garden gave way to a wooded area. Christian guided her to a small grove of trees that offered plenty of shade. There would be more privacy there. 

"You've done very well for yourself as a designer." 

Christian hated small talk, and it seemed idiotic to attempt any with Noelle. But how did you begin a cordial conversation with an ex-lover who you'd once deliberately hurt even as you told yourself it was for her own good? 

"I've been fortunate." Her polite demeanor contrasted with the impatience running through her tone. "Luck and timing." 

"You neglected to mention talent. I always knew you'd be successful." 

"That's very kind." 

"I've missed you." The words came out of nowhere and shocked him. He'd intended to ply her with flirtatious compliments and make her smile at him the way she used to, not pour his heart out. 

For the first time she met his gaze directly. His heart gave a familiar bump as he took in the striking uniqueness of her eyes. From a distance they merely looked hazel, but up close the greenish brown around the edges gave way to a bright chestnut near the pupil. In the past, he'd spent long hours studying these colors and reveling in the soft affection in her gaze as they lingered over dinner or spent a morning in bed. 

She gave her head a shake. "I'm sure that's not true." 

"I might not have been the man for you, but that doesn't mean I didn't care," he told her, fingertips itching to touch her warm skin. 

"Don't try to flatter me." The words held no heat. "I was a convenient bed for you to fall into after you were done partying. You came to me when you grew tired of your superficial crowd and their thoughtless behavior. And in the end, you pushed me out of your life as if two years together meant nothing." 

For your own good. 

"And look how you thrived. You moved to Paris and became an internationally famous designer." He sounded defensive, and that wasn't the tone he wanted to take with her. 

"Is that what you think I wanted?" Her breath huffed out in a short burst that he might have taken for laughter if she hadn't been frowning. "Fame and fortune?" 

No, it's what he'd wanted for her. "Talent like yours shouldn't go to waste." 

"Do you want me to thank you?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

During the time they were together, he'd been more honest with her than anyone else before or since. Not even his brothers had known of the demons that drove him. Maybe he trusted Noelle because they'd been friends before they became lovers. Her openness and gentle spirit had offered him a safe place to unload all his fears and doubts. And because of that, she'd gotten the full weight of his darkness. 

"No." 

"Then why are we having this conversation after five years of silence?" 

Because once again he needed her solace and support. The pressure of fathering the future heir to Sherdana's throne was dredging up his worst qualities. She'd talked him through bouts of melancholy in the past. 

"I need you." 

Her expression reflected dismay. "I'm no longer that girl." Her tone heated as she continued. "And even if I was, I have other things in my life that will always take priority over a…" As if realizing what she'd been about to say to her prince, Noelle sucked in a giant breath and pulled her lips between her teeth. Her next words were polite, her tone tempered. "I am no longer in a position to be your friend." 

She twisted the word friend into something ugly. Christian read her message loud and clear. She wanted nothing more to do with him. Not as his confidante, his champion or as his lover. 

Before he could argue, she dropped another one of those annoying curtsies. "Excuse me, Your Highness, but I should get back to the party." 

Christian watched her vanish back along the path and marveled how thoroughly he'd mucked up his most important act of selflessness. She was right to shut him down. He'd repeatedly demonstrated that he was nothing but trouble for her. 

But after talking to her, he knew if he was going to get through the next few months of finding a wife and settling down to the job of producing the next heir to the throne, he was going to need a friend in his corner. And once upon a time, Noelle had been the only one he talked to about his problems. 

He desperately wanted her support. And although she might not be on board with the idea at the moment, he was going to persuade her to give it.

Cat Schield lives in Minnesota with her daughter and 2 Burmese cats and a Doberman. Winner of the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® for series contemporary romance, when she's not writing sexy, romantic stories for Harlequin Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River or more exotic locales like the Caribbean and Europe. Contact her at www.catschield.net.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Excerpt & Giveaway! Wrecked, Wrecked #1 by Elle Casey

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY, brings readers the High Seas and High Adventure novel WRECKED.

If you liked The Breakfast Club and The Swiss Family Robinson, you’ll love WRECKED!

An ill-fated Caribbean cruise and four teenagers: a nerd, a jock, a mouse, and a beauty queen…an island, a treehouse, some nefarious interlopers…life and death…fear and loathing…love and laughter.

Follow Jonathan, Kevin, Candi and Sarah as they find their typical high school lives and their worlds totally WRECKED.

Content Warning: Contains some foul language and non-explicit sex scenes between older teens. May not be appropriate for younger, middle-grade teens.

Amazon iTunes Google Play Kobo Goodreads

“I can’t believe you roped us into this stupid cruise,” Sarah said in a tone of voice that clearly carried her frustration with parents who never appreciated her very important social calendar. She stood in the middle of her parents’ bedroom with her hands on her hips, chin stuck out for emphasis.

“Sarah, we don’t want to hear another word about this. You’re going, and that’s final. Now go pack your bag.” Sarah’s father turned his back on her to walk into his large bedroom closet. She lost sight of him as he turned the corner. The closet, trimmed entirely in dark cedar, was larger than many of her friends’ bedrooms.

Sarah’s mom stepped over and took Sarah’s hands in hers. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but your father is right. We’re all going, and you can’t stay behind. It’s important for your dad’s business that we all be there. But don’t look so glum – it’s going to be fun!” 

Sarah knew her mother was trying to sell her on the idea by using her especially chipper, upbeat voice. The annoying one. She rolled her eyes and pulled her hands away. “Oh, please. Like being stuck out in the middle of the ocean with you guys and those loser Buckley kids could ever possibly be fun. Not in a million years, Mom. I’m not in the damn chess club, you know.” The thought of being on a cruise with the two Buckley nerds was too much. Sarah had a boyfriend and a convertible, neither of which was going on this cruise. What was so difficult for her parents to understand?

Sarah’s mom sighed and walked over to the dresser without responding, putting her fingers up to her temples to massage them. Confrontation wasn’t her strong suit, and Sarah used this to her advantage as often as possible.

Sarah’s father, on the other hand, wasn’t one bit shy about going head-to-head. He stepped out of the closet carrying an armload of things for his suitcase. Without even sparing her a glance he said, “Don’t talk to your mother that way, Sarah. Just go pack.” 

“But ... ”

“Not another word, or you’re going to be very sorry.” He caught her eye, giving her one of his famous warning looks.

Sarah knew what that meant. Either he was going to take away the keys to her car and turn her into a social castaway or forbid her from seeing her boyfriend Barry. 

“Fine!” 

She turned and stormed from the room in a huff. She tried to stomp her feet for emphasis, but they didn’t make a sound on the heavily padded, ultra thick carpeting. It was very unsatisfying.

On her way down the hall she stopped off at her twin brother’s room and leaned in the doorway. Her eyes scanned the sports posters on the wall, the thirty or so perfectly arranged trophies on the shelves, and the small modern metal and glass desk with a computer sitting on it. He was always so neat with his stuff. “Kev, can you believe this crap? It’s total B.S., right?” 

Sarah’s brother Kevin was packing a duffle bag he used for rugby. She watched him move back and forth, grabbing things from different places. He always looked so at ease with himself. His muscled arms and back showed how hard he worked out so he could excel at his favorite sport. He was like most rugby players – he laughed at football players because they had to wear pads and helmets. Rugby players had to worry every game about broken bones and ears being bitten off, or so he said.

He continued to open drawers, pulling out wads of clothes and shoving them into his bag as he responded. “Whatever. I’m gonna go to the all-you-can-eat buffets and put them out of business. Then I’m gonna drink beer until I puke. Then we come home. No big deal.” He didn’t bother looking up. 

Sarah snorted in disgust, a look on her face as if she’d smelled something bad. “Is that all you ever worry about? Food and beer?”

“What else is there to worry about?” he asked, dead serious.

“What about Gretchen? She’s not going to be there.”

“But there will be other girls, and Gretchen isn’t the only fish in the sea.” He sniggered at his own poor cruise joke.

“I’ll bet she wouldn’t be so thrilled to hear you say that.”

He looked up at his sister to fix her with his threatening look. “She’s not going to hear anyone say that, or else.” 

He sounded just like their dad. Sarah was sick of being threatened, but she knew that Kevin meant either he would share one of her secrets or he’d tackle her and mess up her hair – totally not worth it. 

Gretchen probably had no clue that her brother was just using her like he did all the girls before her. The only thing he really cared about was rugby – and food and beer, of course. When he went to rugby parties, there was always beer there, provided courtesy of the older alumni of the team who still came to watch matches and party afterwards.

Sarah continued, “Whatever. I’m not going on this cruise and pretending like I’m having fun. We’re gonna be stuck with those Buckley idiots the entire time, I just know it.” 

She paused in her ranting to carefully admire her latest manicure. Her nails were a rosy pink with white tips – flawless. Her skin was already very carefully bronzed to match her summer outfits. Her hair was expertly highlighted. All of it was going to be wasted on this stupid business cruise.

Kevin paused in his packing to spare her a glance. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll ditch ‘em as soon as Mom and Dad aren’t around, and I’ll make sure they keep it to themselves and don’t rat us out.”

Sarah stood up straight and took a step into the bedroom. “Ooh, are you going to threaten them? That should be entertaining.” 

“No, I’m not going to threaten the twerp or his sister. I’m just going to explain to them that they’ll have much more fun doing things with other kids more their speed.” He stopped, pointing a finger at his sister. “And don’t take another step into my room, or I’m gonna tackle your scrawny butt and mess up your hair.”

She gingerly stepped back, knowing her brother wasn’t kidding. Then she continued, “Awesome. That’s one issue out of the way, at least.” Sarah was picturing Jonathan and Candace Buckley, who she saw from time to time at school in the hallways or at lunch. What is it with those people who can’t even look in the mirror and see what they’re wearing, anyway? she thought to herself.

“Consider it done.” Kevin finished packing his duffle bag, zipped it up with one quick, practiced motion, and threw it over his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Sarah, holding her hand up for a high five as he came towards the door.

Their hands met with a loud crack. “I’m outta here. Tell Mom I’ll be back before four.”

“Tell her yourself. I have to pack for this disaster.” She pushed off the doorframe, stepped around him, and went into her room across the hall.

“You’re a serious pain in the ass, you know that?” he yelled after her, shutting his door behind him.

She didn’t bother to answer, other than to slam the door in his face as he walked by. She could hear him muttering behind the door, walking down the hallway towards the stairs. 

She reached under her bed, pulled out her Louis Vuitton suitcase and carry-on make up case and put them on the bed. She turned towards her huge closet, throwing open the doors. So, what does a girl wear on a cruise from hell? As her eyes landed on the short, black skirt her aunt had bought for her on their last shopping spree, an evil glint came into her eye. Well, this little number for starters... 

Her parents were going to be sorry they forced her to go on this stupid trip. She laughed out loud thinking about her revenge.

Elle Casey, a former attorney and teacher, is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American author who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and a number of furry friends. She has written books in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

Website Facebook Twitter Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway