Her bosom heaved at an alarming rate as his rough hand found its way down to her soft, yet wiry briar patch…
Can you say briar patch in a romance novel? What about meat sword? That’s what it is…a meat sword, right, all meaty and sword like, slaying through the inner dungeons of a woman’s dark desires. What about breasts? Do bosoms really heave?
God, I have no idea what happens when private parts touch.
I’m a virgin trying to write a romance novel and can’t seem to write past a sex scene thanks to my lack of experience.
My two best friends encourage me to drop the pen for a while and gain some real life practice through multiple dating facets such as blind dates, online profiles, and random hookups.
But losing my virginity is proving to be tougher than expected…
Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing… enter her first novel, Caught Looking.
Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!
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.
Rachel Brookes is from a coastal town on the east coast of Australia where beaches, kangaroos and surfers roam free. She writes angsty love stories with a pinch of craziness, a dash of drama, a cup of romance and a spoonful of sexiness… oh and the main ingredient hot guys. Rachel sometimes forgets to eat, sometimes forgets to sleep and sometimes can’t remember the last time she cleaned her apartment but that’s because she is in a long term relationship with her laptop and is constantly writing. When she does step away from her laptop she can be found taking too many photos, making scrumptious cocktails, laughing at Adam Sandler movies and spending her time with her amazing family and friends. Books currently available include The Breathe Series – Just Breathe, Breathless and Breathe Again. Be My December will be available August 2014.
Cleo’s a Pararescueman for the U.S. Air Force. When a PJ is called, it’s because everyone else has said no. It’s one of the most dangerous jobs in the entire military, but also one of the most rewarding. It’s the reason he doesn’t form relationships. He’s seen his teammates divorce one by one, and he doesn’t want to do that to a woman. Especially one that he’s supposed to love. However, nowhere in his grand scheme did he plan for the force that was Rue.
To My
Rue’s life has been rough. What she needs is a break. One that’ll distract her from the fact that she’s drowning in responsibility. It comes in the form of a dark and dangerous biker who has a habit of putting his life on the line. He gives her the world, and she holds on with both hands, knowing that he only wants to be friends. Or does he?
Flight
Thinking she knows what’s best, she pushes him too far, causing his control to take flight, and Cleo to disappear before the dust settles. One night of passion turns into a year of heartbreak as Rue tries to find the ability to move on from Cleo. He was pretty clear with his wishes, and they didn’t include her.
Cleo’s not through with Rue, though. Not even a little bit. She’ll be his. All it’ll take is a little bit of…persuasion.
I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.
Luke Boone doesn’t know exactly what his uncle Rust is involved in but he wants in on it-the cars, the money, the women. And it looks like he’s finally getting his wish. When Rust hands him the managerial keys to the garage, they come with a second set-one that opens up the door to tons of cash and opportunity. Though it’s not exactly legal, Luke’s never been one to worry about that sort of thing. Especially when it puts him behind the wheel of a Porsche 911 and onto the radar of gorgeous socialite named Rain.
Clara Bertelli is at the top of her game-at only twenty-six years old, she’s one of the most successful undercover officers in the Washington D.C. major crime unit, and she’s just been handed a case that could catapult her career and expose one of the west coast’s most notorious car theft rings. But, in order to do it, she’ll need to go deep undercover as Rain Martines. Her target? The twenty-four-year old nephew of a key player who appears ready to follow in his uncle’s footsteps.
As Clara drifts deeper into the luxurious lifestyle of Rain, and further into the arms of her very attractive and charming target, the lines between right and wrong start to blur, making her wonder if she’ll be able to leave it all behind. Or if she’ll even want to.
Excerpt
Screwing the customers . . .” Miller grumbles, pushing the filing cabinet shut with a loud metal bang.
Only the pretty ones.” And she is that. It wasn’t until she lifted her sunglasses that she had my undivided attention. Those big, blue eyes up against an olive complexion are striking. I wouldn’t have guessed Italian. Mediterranean, definitely.
Exotic, dark-haired, killer body—my type exactly.
“You’re going to lose business for the garage.”
“Relax. I wasn’t the one fishing.” And there was definite fishing on her part. For a long while there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to take the bait. Everything about her—her upscale style, her expensive car, her cool demeanor—says she’s my kind of girl, and therein lies the problem. My kind of girl is good for one thing, and it’s not having lunch over at the food carts of Portland. Or conversation, in general.
Give those kinds of girls more and suddenly they become work, and money. Endless streams on both accounts. Rust warned me about them years ago. Thank God I haven’t tumbled into any of their traps. Even Priscilla, my fallback lay, who I consider a friend, knows exactly where we stand in terms of our “relationship” and that I don’t have the kind of money she wants—even she will occasionally try her hand at sucking more out of me. A new bracelet, cash for rent, a tank of gas for the BMW that her last sugar daddy handed her . . .
But Rain was cute today, in a feisty way, humoring me by taking a bite of that sandwich that she was so obviously not going to enjoy. Her nose crinkling up at the sight of it. Her witty little insult. The way she hung back, waiting, hoping for a chance to see me again but not willing to come right out and ask after already being so forward earlier. Girls like Priscilla would have kept pushing. But Rain obviously has some self-respect.
And when she started walking out of the office, I couldn’t help myself.
I punch her number into my phone so I can call her after work. If I’m lucky, I’ll also have her naked and tangled in my sheets later tonight.
And don’t forget BURYING WATER, the first book in this thrilling series…
The top-selling, beloved indie author of Ten Tiny Breaths returns with a new romance about a young woman who loses her memory—and the man who knows that the only way to protect her is to stay away.
Left for dead in the fields of rural Oregon, a young woman defies all odds and survives—but she awakens with no idea who she is, or what happened to her. Refusing to answer to “Jane Doe” for another day, the woman renames herself “Water” for the tiny, hidden marking on her body—the only clue to her past. Taken in by old Ginny Fitzgerald, a crotchety but kind lady living on a nearby horse farm, Water slowly begins building a new life. But as she attempts to piece together the fleeting slivers of her memory, more questions emerge: Who is the next-door neighbor, quietly toiling under the hood of his Barracuda? Why won’t Ginny let him step foot on her property? And why does Water feel she recognizes him?
Twenty-four-year-old Jesse Welles doesn’t know how long it will be before Water gets her memory back. For her sake, Jesse hopes the answer is never. He knows that she’ll stay so much safer—and happier—that way. And that’s why, as hard as it is, he needs to keep his distance. Because getting too close could flood her with realities better left buried.
The trouble is, water always seems to find its way to the surface.
Born in small-town Ontario, Kathleen published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader and the farthest thing from a genre-snob, loving everything from High Fantasy to Chick Lit. Kathleen currently resides in a quaint small town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.
Racing against time, NSA Agent Joaquin Muñoz is searching for a little girl who vanished twenty years ago with a dangerous secret. Since Bailey Benson fits the profile, Joaquin abducts the beauty and whisks her to the safety of Club Dominion—before anyone can silence her for good.
At first, Bailey is terrified, but when her captor demands information about her past, she’s stunned. Are her horrific visions actually distant memories that imperil all she holds dear? Confined with Joaquin in a place that echoes with moans and breathes passion, he proves himself a fierce protector, as well as a sensual Master who’s slowly crawling deeper in her head…and heart. But giving in to him might be the most delicious danger of all.
Because Bailey soon learns that her past isn’t the only mystery. Joaquin has a secret of his own—a burning vengeance in his soul. The exposed truth leaves her vulnerable and wondering how much about the man she loves is a lie, how much more is at risk than her heart. And if she can trust him to protect her long enough to learn the truth.
You know what they say about curiosity and the cat…but if you still want to know, read below.
Shayla Black (aka Shelley Bradley) is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over 40 sizzling contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances produced via traditional, small press, independent, and audio publishing. She lives in Texas with her husband, munchkin, and one very spoiled cat. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading and listening to an eclectic blend of music.
Shayla’s books have been translated in about a dozen languages. She has also received or been nominated for The Passionate Plume, The Holt Medallion, Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, and the National Reader’s Choice Awards. RT Bookclub has twice nominated her for Best Erotic Romance of the year, as well as awarded her several Top Picks, and a KISS Hero Award.
A writing risk-taker, Shayla enjoys tackling writing challenges with every new book.
Have something to say? Contact Shayla or visit her on her Facebook page.
Eli Boudreaux’s family has built ships and boats in Louisiana for generations. He comes from a hardworking, wealthy family and his empire is growing by leaps and bounds. At thirty, he is the youngest CEO to ever head Bayou Enterprises, co-chairing with his eldest brother. His head for business and his no-nonsense work ethic is also quickly making him the best the company has seen in generations. His staff admires him, women adore him and Eli’s family is solid. But he’s recently discovered that someone on the inside of his business is stealing from him and he’s determined to find out who.
Kate O’Shaughnessy is hired by companies all over the world to slip inside and investigate every member of the organization from the CEO down to the custodial staff to find the person or persons responsible for embezzling. She’s excellent at blending, becoming part of the team, and finding the weakest link. She’s smart, quick-witted, and she’s now been hired by Bayou Enterprises, specifically Eli Boudreaux. The attraction is immediate and the chemistry is off the charts, but Kate has heard all about Eli’s playboy past and she has a job to do. Sleeping with the boss isn’t a part of that job, even if just the sound of her name rolling off that Cajun tongue and the way he fills out a designer suit does make her sweat.
Eli’s southern charms surprise Kate. The man whose reputation labels him as a ruthless, callous womanizer is not the man she’s coming to know intimately. He’s generous, protective and makes her smile. Cracking through Kate’s cool, reserved demeanor and discovering her love of sexy, expensive lingerie is a challenge Eli can’t resist, but her sweet nature, love of family and sense of humor pull at him in ways no one else ever has.
But when the person responsible for trying to single-handedly dismantle Eli’s empire comes to light, and it’s time for Kate to move on, to what lengths will Eli go to keep the woman he’s fallen in love with by his side?
Excerpt
“I do like you,” he repeats. When I would look down, he catches my chin with his finger and tilts my head up. “But this is a bad idea.”
“What is?” I whisper, hating the shakiness in my voice.
“This.” He lowers his face to mine and sweeps his nose across my own, gently. His lips haven’t touched mine yet, but they’re tingling, already yearning for him. His hands glide up my bare arms to my neck, his thumbs gently draw circles along my jawline as he places a light, barely-there kiss on the corner of my lips. I hear a soft moan, and would be mortified to know that it came from me if I could find my brain cells.
This man is dangerous. Everything about him screams RUN! but instead I grip onto his lean hips and tug him closer. He needs no further invitation. He slips those amazing lips of his over mine, licks my bottom lip, and when I gasp at the fission of pure lust that moves through me, he moves in for the kill.
His tastes like the after-meal peppermint we both ate and the light one or two day scruff on his chin rasps against my skin in the most tantalizing way. I can’t help but wonder how it would feel on other parts of my body; behind my knees, between my breasts, between my legs.
Holy shit, I bet he would feel amazing between my legs.
I grip onto his biceps and realize that the one arm he’s slung around the small of my back is the only thing keeping me upright. My knees no longer exist. We’re both breathing hard as he drags his fingers down my cheek and pulls back, nibbling the edge of my lips once more and then he’s gone, staring down at me with shining whiskey eyes.
“That. That’s a bad idea.”[KS1]
ABOUT KRISTEN PROBY
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.
Leaning across the bed, I grab a condom from the side table and hand it to her.
“Put this on me,” I say firmly.
Her eyes snap up to mine lightning fast. “I don’t know really know how. They taught us on cucumbers and bananas in sex ed during high school, but—“
I can’t contain the chuckle that erupts from my throat. “Consider me your human test dummy then. We’re going to talk about long-term birth control, but until then we’re using condoms. You’re going to want to get used to putting them on me because we’re going to be spending a lot of time in bed.”
I give her room to maneuver so that she can sit up. Sitting back on my haunches, I watch as she opens the foil packet. It’s a struggle not to beg her to hurry when she wraps her hand around my cock just below the tip. Holding me steady, she gets the condom into place and starts rolling it down. Covering her hand with mine, I help her roll it the rest of the way.
“Was I doing it wrong?”
“No, but I’m faster and I need to be inside that tight pussy right now.”
Her half gasp, half giggle is enough to make me insane. Settling her back on the bed, I spread her legs and lower myself over her. After making sure that she’s ready for me, I slowly begin to slide in.
Her slick heat envelops me like the tightest silken fist I’ve ever encountered. I want to be inside of her without anything between us so fucking bad that I swear I’d pay any amount of money to make that happen.
We both let out sounds of pleasure as I settle in as far as I can go, and I jerk against her when she grabs my ass in her hands.
“Fuck me, please,” she says with a gasp.
Shaking my head at her with a laugh, I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her senseless. All the while continuing to pump slowly in and out of the most incredible woman on this fucking planet.
She breaks the kiss to let out a moan. “Faster,” she cries.
“No,” I say firmly. “Last night was fast. This morning is for slow and steady. I don’t want it to be over quickly—I want to fuck your perfect pussy for as long as possible. I want you to come on my dick again and again. It doesn’t always have to be fast to be good, beautiful. Let me show you all the ways that you can come.”
Raised on fairytales and dreams of true love, Arden Winger left for college with a smile on her face and a happy, hopeful heart. Fast-forward seven years and that small town is behind her, but not the baggage she’s been carrying since she left.
Just a city boy…
It’s not that Exton Alexander had anything against relationships—he just never had the desire to try. Not necessarily jaded, Exton considered himself a realist. Little did he know, the one woman that would change everything was about to rock his world. This Alpha male knows the second he lays eyes on her that Arden is special– now he just has to work past her defenses.
When she’s not writing, Ella indulges the gypsy in her blood and travels the country. Ella loves reading, movies, music, buying make-up, reading Tmz, Twitter and pedicures… not necessarily in that order. She has a wild sense of humor and loves to laugh. Her favorite thing in the world is hanging out with her family and watching comedy movies.
Author: New York Times best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills
A beautiful violinist who lives next door…
The obsessed rock star who watches her…
And the one night she bares it all.
Description
Vital Rejects front guy Sebastian Tate never imagined his YouTube music video would go viral, sky-rocketing him to acting success in Hollywood. Okay, maybe he did. After all, he’s a cocky dude who knows he’s hot-as-hell, and it was only a matter of time before his stars aligned.
But life in Tinseltown is never what it seems.
After being cheated on, Sebastian’s only rule to falling in love is simple: Keep Calm and Don’t Do It. Spying on his mysterious new neighbor with binoculars seems innocent enough, but quickly escalates into an erotic game between two very unlikely people.
Twenty-year-old Violet St. Lyons is a world-renowned violinist who’s lost her mojo on stage. She hides away in a Hollywood mansion, trying to find her way through her twisted past in order to make her future.
He’s the life of the party with girls chasing him down for his autograph. She’s the introvert with a potty mouth who doesn’t even know who he is.
When they meet, stars collide, sparks fly, and clothes come off. Yet, giving his heart to a girl isn’t Sebastian’s plan; falling for a guy who craves attention isn’t Violet’s.
Welcome to Briarcrest Academy—Hollywood style—where sometimes the best things in life are VERY TWISTED THINGS.
At the end of Very Wicked Things, Sebastian Tate’s view of love and commitment was upended by Emma, the lying, cheating whore from Briarcrest Academy. She twisted everything he believed in and was shown by his parents and his brother, Leo and his girlfriend, Nora, and turned Sebastian into a man, who for the last five years, has done nothing but advance his career and make his dreams come true, never allowing another woman close enough to hurt him.
For the last two years, Violet “V” St Lyons has done nothing but exist, shutting herself off from the world and refusing to allow anyone in because the pain of losing anyone else is too much for her to bear. She lives in her mansion alone, has an extreme obsession with junk food, and shrouds herself in the darkness that has been her life since she lost her parents.
The remedy is in the poison.
Both Sebastian and V are twisted up in a way that it’s going to take just the right person to unwind them and smooth the jagged edges that have left them more fragile than anyone truly knows. But in order for Violin Girl and Blond Guy to see that what’s standing in front of them is worth the risk…worth the pain…worth the upheaval of V’s private life and even more important than Sebastian’s ticket to success, they’re going to have to open themselves up to the possibility of becoming even more twisted, their lives even more chaotic because besides the tangible connection that’s been between them since their stalkerlike peeping, they’re each other’s resolutions – the calm to Hollywood’s storm, and if they can get twisted up in each other instead of in their own heads, maybe, just maybe, they’ll find themselves back to who they once were before they were irrevocably changed by situations that were completely out of their control.
Ilsa Madden-Mill’s Briarcrest Academy series is one of my absolute favorite New Adult series, and I have wanted Sebastian’s story since meeting him in Very Bad Things. I love that Ilsa gives readers a view of what happens after Briarcrest, taking us in a new direction but still staying true to her characters’ roots and what made Sebastian who he is in the first place. He may be grown up and jaded, but he’s still the same caring guy whose family means everything to him. But this version of Sebastian is even sexier, panty dropping, and filthy mouthed, leaving a lot more ladies than just V obsessing over him.
Nora’s always going to be my girl in this series, but V is right there with Nora. V’s passion for music and how it both torments and soothes her is brilliantly portrayed in each and every performance, both naked and fully clothed;) The walls she’s built are perfectly natural for the events that have defined her young life and the fight within her is evident from the start of the text, but it is brought out even more as the story progresses, and she realizes what’s at stake for not only herself but for Sebastian as well.
Very Twisted Things is brilliantly written; its story line seamlessly flows between witty banter, steamy scenes, and heartfelt discussions that illustrate who Sebastian and V are at their core. The secondary characters add another dimension to the story, and I’m definitely looking forward to Spider’s story. Readers are also graced with a bonus scene from Leo and Nora’s lives, which made me a smiling fool!
This series is a definite MUST CLICK!
A complimentary copy was provided in exchange for an honest review.
5 poison apples
Excerpt
Prologue ~ Violet
“Fairy dust is not real. This I know.” —from the journal of Violet St. Lyons
Boom!
I, Violet St. Lyons, who once believed herself the luckiest girl in the world, was born on the same day that the Violette–Sells comet was discovered. My parents, two avid stargazers, said it was a sign of how special I was and promptly named me Violet. They claimed my life had been blessed with fairy dust.
At the very least, comet residue.
I’d foolishly believed it for eighteen years, until the moment of my death.
Which was now.
Boom! Another explosion rocked the plane and metal ripped away as a section of the aircraft to my right vanished. Luggage flew through the air. People disappeared. The mom with the baby who’d sat in the aisle across from us—gone. The redheaded flight attendant who’d been collecting trash—gone. Disembodied screams echoed from the surrounding passengers as my own scream took up most of the space in my head. Air sucked at us viciously from the outside as a tornado of people banged around the space and one by one got pulled out into the swirling abyss.
I watched, helplessly transfixed, as I sat between my parents, gripping each of their hands as the plane we’d boarded six hours earlier for Dublin spiraled toward the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to die. My mother was already dead, a twisted piece of shrapnel sticking grotesquely from her chest as her head lolled around her neck. Blood had already soaked her shirt, yet I refused to let go of her hand. She’d be okay. We were always okay. We were the St. Lyons family of Manhattan, an icon of old money wealth with deep political ties. Page six of the NewYork Times featured pictures of us on a monthly basis. We couldn’t die on a plane.
Reality dawned as we plummeted. The yellow breathing apparatus dropped and dangled in my face, taunting me with its pointlessness. Fire and black smoke boiled in front of us where the cockpit had been, and my mind recognized that the pilots had to be dead. Just a few minutes ago, they’d come over the intercom and announced that the plane was making its descent into Dublin Airport exactly on schedule.
Then the first explosion had gone off.
Bits of debris flew around, narrowly missing me. My elderly father grabbed my hand and squeezed, his face drawn back in a horrible grimace.
Paralyzed in my seat, we spun like a drunken top, and a part of my brain noticed the sun was rising, its pink tinge lending a soft glow, catching the reflection of clouds and making them silver-lined. The rocky coast of Ireland glittered in the distance. Mocking me. We’d been headed there to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.
Just then my violin case flew past my head from the overhead compartment and crashed against the wall of the plane. Shards flew. I shuddered and wanted to vomit. God, help us. We were here because of me. Our deaths were my fault. I spared a glance at the diamond promise ring Geoff had given me before we’d left.
Would the Mayor of New York’s son go on without me?
The air was turbulent yet thin, and my chest tightened as dizziness pulled at me. I resisted. Had to stay awake. Had to be with my dad. I was younger, stronger, faster. My eyes went to the gaping hole in the plane. Had to think ahead. Plan. Water would fill up the plane on impact, ensuring we’d sink rapidly.
My fear escalated as the ocean rushed at us, its surface choppy and ominous. I took in a giant breath and braced myself. We hit at an angle, the plane a torpedo as it sliced into the sea. Daddy disappeared, ejected by the impact, and I yanked on my seat belt, unclicking it to go after him. Heart thundering, I sent a final look at my mother. I wanted to take her with me, but she was gone.
Water everywhere, bubbling and gurgling as it filled up the plane. Salt water stung my eyes. People floated by, some alive as they floundered for the opening. I kept my gaze off the dead ones. Focus. Get out. Only seconds left.
I swam from my seat and fought my way out of the large hole in the plane, lungs exploding. Burning. I’d been under too long.
Daddy! I caught a glimpse of his red shirt above me and kicked harder.
Up, up, up. Must get up. My arms moved. My legs kicked. Excruciating pain. Ignore it. Almost there. So close that I could see the daylight breaking through the water.
The hottest fire I’ve ever known lit in my chest. Scorching.
Air. Just want to breathe. Just get to the top. Please.
My body rebelled and I inhaled and swallowed water, the burn racing down my throat making it spasm as I tried to cough it out. I struggled but took in more and more, the cold liquid filling my lungs.
Dark spots filled my eyes. This was drowning.
Exhausted.
Done.
My body twitched. I grew disoriented.
I let go of the fight. My hands floated in front of me.
Oblivion.
Darkness.
No bright lights, no tunnel.
No heaven, no mother, no father.
No comets.
No fairy dust.
Chapter One ~ Sebastian
Two years later
“She was music with skin.” —Sebastian Tate
I tapped my foot.
What was taking her so long?
From my backyard patio in the Hollywood Hills, I watched the odd girl next door with a pair of high-powered binoculars. She flicked on her porch lights, and a low whistle came out of me at the sexy red-as-sin robe she wore, its silky material flashing around her long legs as she moved around. Her hair was down, too.
This was new. Where were the usual yoga pants? The ponytail?
She looked like she knew someone watched, but that was impossible since our outside lights were off. Even the light from the moon hit our house at such an angle that she shouldn’t be able to see us just by glancing over. She’d need a high-powered lens to know I was here.
Usually she played facing her rose garden, but this time she walked to the right side of her patio, which faced us. Weird. But she didn’t play. She just stood there without moving. Staring toward our house. Uneasiness went over me.
What was she doing?
Could she see me?
As if it were a fragile bird, she positioned the violin under her chin and began playing, arms bent and wrist poised, making the most exquisite sounds. And I don’t mean classical like Beethoven or Mozart; I mean body-thrashing, blood-thumping, hard-as-hell music that had me rooted to the ground, like she’d slapped iron chains on me.
Dark and seductive notes rose up in the air, and I got jacked up, recognizing a Led Zeppelin song, only she’d ripped its guts out and twisted it into something electric. She pushed the bow hard, upping the tempo abruptly, her movements controlled yet wild. My pulse kicked up and my eyes lingered, taking in the slightly parted toned legs and the way her breasts bounced as she jerked her arms to manipulate the strings.
Her robe slipped off her right shoulder, exposing part of her breast. Creamy and full, it quivered, vibrating as she moved her arms. Her rosy nipple teased me, slipping in and out of the folds of the material. I pictured my mouth there, sucking, my fingers plucking, strumming her like my guitar until she begged me to—
Stop, I told myself. Whoever Violin Girl was, she didn’t deserve me lusting after her while she was pouring her heart out with music.
I zoomed in as far as the binoculars would go, watching her surrender to the music as she bent and swayed from side to side with her eyes closed, black lashes like fans on her cheeks. Every molecule in my body focused on her, hanging on to each note she pulled from her instrument.
She finished and kept her head bowed for the longest time, perhaps letting the emotion wash over her like it had me.
The entire event was surreal, yet poignant as fucking poetry.
I let out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
Who the hell plays Stairway to Heaven with a violin? She did.
Bam! She snapped her head up, her eyes lasering in on mine, making every hair on my body stand at attention.
And then …
Standing there in the moonlight, she untied her robe and spread apart the sides ever so slightly, her movements seeming almost hesitant, as if she’d had to work herself up. Unfamiliar jealousy hit me and I panned out and checked the rest of the patio, expecting to see a lover. Whoever it was, I wanted to rip him apart piece by piece.
My gaze searched her patio, the backyard, her upstairs balcony. Nothing. No one.
She flicked her dark hair back and stroked the lapels of the robe, her fingers lingering over the lacy material. Suddenly the evening smacked of something more than just music. Her arms moved back and forth across the front, opening the robe halfway and then closing it as if she couldn’t make up her mind.
My eyes went up, trying to read her face. Still as a statue, the only movement was her mouth as it trembled, her full upper lip resting against the pouty lower one.
Violin Girl was trapped in a cage of darkness.
It still didn’t stop me from holding my breath, silently begging her to bare herself to me. She’d already laid bare her music. Part of me needed the rest of her.
She jerked the robe closed, making me groan in disappointment.
New York Times and USA Today best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She’s addicted to dystopian and all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding heroines. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, Instagram, Ian Somerhalder (seriously hot), astronomy (she’s a Gemini), Sephora make-up, and tattoos.
She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education.
When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets, paints old furniture, and eats her weight in sushi.
I must’ve been 5 or 6 when I started writing “stories”. I would write them and hide them. Not wanting anyone to see my “secret” thoughts. I needed to write -even back then. Now I’m just not hiding them anymore. Is that a sign of maturity? Nah ….
Writer, photographer, insatiable wanderluster, edge-player, foodie, music addict, pop culture fanatic, animal lover, warrior for the rights of people and planet, and avid cusser (am a Native New Yorker, so very little offends me … and if I am offended, it must be pretty freaking bad .. like bad grammar!).
I am big believer in signs and if we keep ourselves open, there are guideposts all along the way. Stay humble. Be true. Be you.
The stunning cover of BEYOND THESE WALLS is available today! You can get your hands on the conclusion to Lailah and Jude’s breathtaking love story on April 21st!
About BEYOND THESE WALLS
Happily ever after.
That was what we were supposed to have.
Pudding cups, sandy toes and a lifetime of making each and every one of our dreams come true—that is the future I’d promised her.
I could see it in my dreams, hold it in my hands, but then I watched as all of our hopes and wishes suddenly slipped through my fingers like sand.
I thought the worst was behind us, but what if we’d just delayed the inevitable?
They say love can overcome any obstacle. But can it survive death?
The breathtaking love story of Lailah and Jude concludes in Beyond These Walls.
J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series. She is a California native living in the beautiful state of historic Virginia. Married to her high school sweetheart, they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she’s not writing, you will find her with her nose stuck in a romance novel, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
Synopsis
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![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]](http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/BeyondTheseWalls-Full-Cover-.jpg)
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