childish excitement flooding his system before he continued. He was the Dom. Stuff like this was supposed to happen to him all the time. He had to be cool. Stay in character.
A Call to Heaven
Genre: contemporary romance with a paranormal twist
“Everybody’s loved, everybody’s lost.
Grief strips you raw and makes you feel as if you’re sleepwalking through life, like the pain will never go away.
I’m Amy Tristan. I’m no different than anyone else. I’ve loved, I’ve lost and it sucks. I’ve got a five-year old son and an abusive husband. My mother died six months ago and I miss her like crazy.
I’m the biggest skeptic when it comes to other-worldly stuff, so when I’m told that I can pick up the phone and call my mum in Heaven, I should disbelieve it, right? Wrong. I pick up that phone, because there’s nothing I want more than to hear her voice trickle into the receiver.
And you know what? It works. I get to speak to my mother. It’s a miracle. If only it could stay this way, with those calls just for me, but someone up on high wants me to choose three other people to make a call to Heaven too. Who should I pick? How can I trust them to keep the phone secret? Making the choice is agonizing – if I get it wrong, my calls will stop. I wish I hadn’t told Daniel anything. He’s this hot doctor that I’ve come to know. But doctors are scientists, and scientists are bigger skeptics than even me. He didn’t believe in the phone. He thought I should be admitted to a sanatorium. Telling him was either the best decision of my life, or the worst. I’ll let you decide…”
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/6qQLxZbVs50
Everyone’s looking at me. I’ve got the yellow telephone in my hands and I’m not sure what to do with it. I take a seat at the end of the table and lay the phone down in front of me. Beth is to my left, Ben is to my right. Daniel is opposite me. I look from one to the other and feel color flood my cheeks. My gaze finishes on Daniel and stays there for a beat. He nods, his eyes encouraging me. I return the nod, take a deep breath and count down from three to one in my head.
“I’ve got to tell you all something.” My voice comes out as a thin squeak, but actually I’m surprised I manage to articulate at all. I’m hot, so hot. I lift the hair off the back of my neck, flapping it around to try to cool my sticky, clammy skin. I can’t breathe, I need air. I unlock the patio doors, flinging them wide open. The inside of my mouth feels rough as sandpaper. I’m desperate for a tall glass of water packed with ice-cubes but, when I turn to see six eyes staring at me, I dare not leave to fetch one. I feel like an exhibit in a museum and in some ways I wish I were. I could hide behind a Perspex box next to the yellow telephone with panel blurb doing the explaining for me. I could be part of a new exhibition entitled ‘Incredible Discoveries’. I would share the same hall as the dinosaurs and anything else which took aeons for people to believe existed. I draw a deep breath and continue.
“You’re probably going to think I’m mad, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”
A breeze blows through the open patio doors.
“What I wanted to tell you is this.” My voice is soft as a whisper. I sense all their bodies leaning closer towards mine, straining to hear. “I’ve recently started talking to my mother.”
There, I’ve said it.
I feel a great sense of relief, both that I’ve said it and that I no longer have to keep this to myself. Beth relaxes in her chair with a sigh, leans across and takes my hand, patting it. She’s got wavy brown hair and a kind, open face. She tilts her head sympathetically.
“Oh honey, you must have tried out that clairvoyant you mentioned. Please tell us all about it.”
I should have seen that one coming.
“No, you don’t get it.” I lift up the yellow phone, as if to demonstrate how to use such a contraption. In one hand I take the receiver, in the other the plug. “I don’t speak to her through a medium. I speak to her on this telephone. I plug it into a socket in my bathroom and I’m allowed to call heaven.”
There, I’ve said it now.
Not a muscle.
Their mouths all open, Daniel’s is the widest. I don’t think any of them even realize they’re doing it. As feared, they are looking at me like I’m certifiably insane.
“I can see you all think I’m mad.” I actually manage to pull a small smile. Now that I’ve started, I feel much calmer. “And, if I were in your position, I would think I’m crazy too. But one night my mother came to me in a dream and told me I could use this phone to call her in heaven and, bizarre though it must sound, it turns out she was right. That’s why I stopped coming to Grief Support Group every week. I wasn’t grieving so much because my mother had come back into my life.”
The three pairs of eyes grow wider and wider, as if I’m slowly sprouting four serpent heads. I replace the receiver back into its cradle and drop the plug, holding out my hands in submission.
“You can believe me or not. It doesn’t matter. But the reason I’ve gathered you all here is because I’ve been asked to choose three other people to call to heaven.”
I sound like a fairy godmother or the good witch in the Wizard of Oz. I do not sound normal. I pause. The effect is dramatic although it’s not intended to be.
“And I’ve picked you guys.”
I look at them one by one.
“Beth, I know how much it might mean to you to be able to speak to your daughter and know that she is safe.”
Beth nods. Her gaze turns glassy.
“Ben, I’d do anything to be able to give you a chance to speak to your brother again.”
Ben nods, his mouth still formed in a perfect ‘O’.
Daniel is the hardest one for me to look at. He’s not nodding anymore and his eyes are no longer urging me to continue. Instead he’s shaking his head, a slow, subtle movement, but I catch it all the same. His full lips have now formed a thin line. He’s the only one who looks like he still thinks I’m certifiably insane. Hell, he’s a doctor; perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Part of me wonders whether I should abort this whole escapade and pretend it was all a joke. I’d do anything to not have Daniel stare at me in this way. He looks ready to call the local sanatorium and send them round with a straitjacket. But I can’t abort and I must continue. What happens next is up to him.
“And Daniel, I thought that maybe you might like to speak to Katie.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but clamps it shut again without speaking. Nobody else says anything either. They all shift in their seats, pretending to take sips of coffee and look around the room. Perhaps they’re checking out the photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace, trying to work out if I look like a madwoman in any of them. I pick up the knife. Now I probably do look mad or, at the very least, dangerous.
“Right, who’s for some more pie?”
Jo lives in London with her husband, three children and Jerald the cat. In addition to being a novelist she works as a TV and print journalist (Sunday Times, The Telegraph, the Daily Mail and the Express.) If she could change one thing about her life it would be to introduce the thirty hour day, because twenty-four hours just isn’t long enough to squeeze it all in! Many a late night has been spent with a glass of red wine (preferably French) at her desk trying to keep her eyes open long enough to write these stories which keep demanding to be written. If only her cat didn’t constantly jump onto the keyboard as she writes, this book might have been finished months earlier. She loves yoga, skiing, travelling and English custard – though not necessarily in that order.
My Delicate Destruction
Publication date: July 26th 2016
Genres: Adventure, New Adult, Science Fiction
They Promised her Hope…
My name is Katerina Anderson. In 2016, a drug called Hope was created. Administered during suspended animation, the drug was supposed to cure the cancer my twin brother and I had. When an earthquake leveled Los Angeles, we were presumed dead.
Forgotten, we slept.
The day I woke up, I realized everything had changed. My brother was missing, and everyone else I knew was dead. I booked passage on a ship to find Kris. The government thinks I’m a criminal and the cure did more than just cure my cancer. My brother is the only one who might have the answers I need, but that drug and all its false hope set me on a path I’m not sure I can follow.
Will I find my twin and learn exactly what they did to me before it’s too late?
*Get My Delicate Destruction for FREE for a limited time only!*
More books in the series:
I sat in the interrogation room, waiting. I was annoyed. If they were arresting me for the car, then why was I in an interrogation room? Did they need me to confess? It all seemed a little strange. There had to be some sort of retinal scan that threw up some red flags on my lack of identification if I wasn’t there for the whole car thing.
I tried not to panic. I could totally get out of this. All I had to do was sweet talk them into thinking I was a dumb girl who lost her license…or whatever I was supposed to have.
I waited for almost two hours before Officer Smith came in to do the preemptive paperwork. When he was done, he paged his partner, Officer Cromwell.
Officer Cromwell was the big, burly guy who had knocked me out. One of his arms was the size of my torso and he could probably tear me in two.
“We want to know what connection you have with Captain Chase Wolfe.” His voice was so deep it made the air around him vibrate. I was impressed despite my automatic hatred for him.
Wolfe was the last thing I expected them to ask me about. They went to all that work to arrest me, but for none of the things I was actually guilty of. They wanted to know about the captain instead. My nerves went haywire, surely trying to warn me; the basic survival instinct kicking into overdrive.
I knew nothing about this captain. At least if it was something I’d done I could answer their questions. “Well, I booked passage with him,” I replied. “I’ve never met him prior to today.”
“You’re sure?” the smaller one asked as he walked in, Smith.
“Positive. I actually have no idea why I’m here.” My hands felt constricted in the cuffs, and they jangled unpleasantly when I moved.
Why would they hunt me down for information on this guy? I was on that ship for barely an hour. Things must be worse for the Wolfegang then I’d originally thought. The authorities wanted them bad.
“You have no identification, you aren’t in the system, and you recently went to the bank to exchange a large amount of cash for credits,” Cromwell stated. “It’s not possible to have nothing to identify you. This means you had it wiped somehow, most likely for criminal reasons. Oh, and you stole a car. Anything else I’m forgetting?”
Well, shit. They did know about my criminal activities, but somehow, they thought it was connected to this captain. What exactly had I gotten myself into?
He threw down a plex that showed the stolen car report, the bank transactions, and my passage receipt.
How had they gotten it all so fast?
“You deposited five thousand dollars in cash. Where did you get it?”
“My grandfather left it for me.” At least that wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know what they wanted me to tell them, but they were so convinced that I knew something. How was I going to get them to understand?
Maybe if I played this cool enough they would let me go. Though, I doubted it. Best-case scenario: I was thrown in a holding cell with a court date and no one to pay my bail. Worst-case scenario…I could only imagine what was legal for law enforcement now.
“Have you ever contacted Chase Wolfe prior to the purchase of your passage?” Smith asked me.
“No.” Another truthful answer. I was getting lucky. I was also getting annoyed. I hated roundabout questions that were just the same question reworded. I’d already told him that I hadn’t.
“But you do know a Kristopher Anderson.”
Crap, I had a bad feeling about this. “Yes.” How could they possibly connect me to him? There were probably a million Kristopher Andersons in the world.
“We arrested him a while back on assault charges and resisting arrest. Served time too.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move or react in any way. He watched me, and it made me feel cagey.
“Why are you headed to the same planet that was his last known location?”
Damn, these guys were good. “Vacation.” I didn’t bother to elaborate.
Cromwell slammed his fist on the desk. I jumped about an inch off my chair. “Stop playing around! I know he’s your brother; the DNA we took when we processed you matches. Are you smuggling weapons to him? Are you working for him or Wolfe? Give me answers, damn it!” His fist left an impression in the table.
My readers are what’s important to me. Yes, I write for myself and the enjoyment of it, but I adore when a reader actually has a great time reading a story I slaved over. I don’t write any particular genre, but I do stick to kick-ass female characters. I love writing about all types of differently strong women. My debut series is Young Adult Science Fiction. The first novella is free to see if you enjoy what I write.
I’m very involved with my fandoms, and love all things geeky and nerdy. I love connecting with my readers, so if you’d like to contact me just head over to my website 🙂
Publication date: February 2nd 2017
Genres: Gothic, Young Adult
An isolated convent, a supernatural presence, a dark secret…
17-year-old Paloma only wanted to hold a séance to contact her dead father. She never thought she would be kicked out of school and end up in an isolated convent. Now, all she wants is to be left alone. But slowly, she develops a bond with a group of girls: kind-hearted Maria, insolent Silvy, pathological liar Adelita, and their charismatic leader Rubia.
When, yet again, Paloma holds a séance in the hope of contacting her father, she awakens an entity that has been dormant for years. And then, the body count begins. Someone doesn’t want the secret out… Are the ghost and Paloma’s suspicions real—or only part of her growing paranoia and delusions?
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Madre Estela remained standing by the door. “Get a bucket and fill it with water.”
Her hypercritical eyes sliced through my self-worth as I grabbed one of the metal buckets, lifted it into the sink, and turned on the faucet. I watched, transfixed, as the water gushed like a torrent spurting from an open artery. The cold spray raised goosebumps on my arms.
Madre Estela snapped her fingers. “Move.”
As I hauled the bucket to the door, some of the water slushed over the edge and splattered to the floor.
“Add the detergent,” she said stiffly, irritated by my clumsiness.
I chose a green bottle, twisted the cap, and poured. The acrid pine smell stung my nostrils.
“Get a sponge and a brush from there. Get going. We don’t have all evening—unless you want to work in the dark.”
I gritted my teeth, but pretended not to be bothered. I suspected that the one thing that this nun couldn’t stand was indifference.
Outside, it was almost dusk. In spite of the intense screeching of the coquíes, the drum of the waterfall hit my ears. It was louder now than the last time I’d been here. How was that possible?
I felt a drop of rain. Great.
Madre Estela put one hand out, palm up. “My, my. What’s this?” She looked chagrined, and I suddenly realized why. If it rained, I would have to go inside, ruining her plans. “What are you standing there for? Start scrubbing.”
I was tempted to throw the bucket of greenish water at her face. Instead, I prayed for rain as I walked across the rose garden. Once at the gate, I glanced back at her.
“You’ll work until I come for you, understood?” she said, hands on hips in her usual stance. She pointed to one of the second-floor windows. “I’ll be watching from there.”
And that was it. She was gone.
For a moment I just stood there. If only my friends could see me now. They would never believe it.
I opened the gate and walked into the graveyard. The statue of Gabriel greeted me, its face fiercer in the dusk. The temperature must have been in the low seventies. I was glad I had my cardigan.
Suddenly, the garden lamp post lit up. I turned, startled. I wasn’t sure if it had automatically switched on or if someone, maybe Madre Estela, had done it from indoors. I glanced up at the second-floor window, expecting to find her face. I had the chilling sensation of being watched. There was nothing. The windows glowed with yellow light, a multitude of feral eyes keeping guard.
However, behind one of the ground-floor windows on the right, a figure appeared. Tall, blurred. Madre Superiora? I was sure that was her office. Yet, something about the shape of the head and the shoulders made me think of…Rubia. What was she doing in Madre Superiora’s office?
Just as abruptly as it’d appeared, the figure vanished from view.
The incident left me strangely unsettled.
I splashed some of the water on one of the tombstones and got to work. The sound of hard bristles against stone blocked the hum of the waterfall. Almost.
Go away, damn it.
As I crouched to work on a second tombstone, doing my best not to get wet in the process, something shifted at the edge of my vision. I jumped to my feet, my heart thudding. Gabriel. Its wings had rippled with movement.
Dear God…what’s happening to me?
I rubbed my forehead and grimaced, my fingers shaking.
I felt another drop of rain. If it was going to rain, why didn’t it? The sky was playing with me, too. Mocking me.
I cursed the clouds and started scrubbing again.
I had another sensation of being watched and this time, yes, it was Madre Estela behind the window. I pretended I hadn’t seen her and tried to keep focused on the task at hand. The water had turned blackish with grime.
I don’t know how long I scrubbed. I lost track of time. But it was dark. My back and shoulders were sore and my hands stung from the harsh detergent.
Madre Estela was long gone from the window.
Half panting, I sat down on the edge of the tombstone and tossed the brush aside in disgust. I looked at the statue again, but it was motionless. I turned to the windows again, my eyes slowly moving from one to the other.
From one to the other.
Expecting to see the face. Wanting to see it.
Yet, that weird sensation of being watched, again.
My gaze shifted to the woods, to the exact place where the cemetery ended and the forest started. There was a path there. Narrow, obscured by the trees. For a long moment I sat, mesmerized. Then I stood up and began to approach it. The breeze picked up as I got closer, carrying with it the cool, slightly pungent smell of the waterfall.
I stopped at the very edge, the darkness enveloping me, the dampness seeping through my clothes.
The wind sighed, rustling the leaves and fluttering my hair.
Icy breath, on the back of my neck.
I’m in here… a voice whispered from the shadows.
I spun around in terror.
Then I hit something hard.
A certified bookworm and ailurophile, Zoe Kalo has always been obsessed with books and reading. Reading led to writing—compulsively. No surprise that at 16, she wrote her first novel, which her classmates read and passed around secretly. The pleasure of writing and sharing her fantasy worlds has stayed with her, so now she wants to pass her stories to you with no secrecy—but with lots of mystery. She lives amongst cats and books in Belgium, and is the author of the Cult of the Cat young adult fantasy series and the Retribution novella series for adults.
Sign up for her newsletter at http://www.ZoeKalo.com and get her exclusive short story “Irkalla.”
(The Moran Family #2)
Publication date: February 14th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Playing the field does have its perks.
Marco Moran knows all about those perks. Wealthy, successful, and fully committed to being single, he’s content strolling through life with numerous women traipsing in and out of his bed. Unapologetic, he embraces the life of a single man, doing all he can to avoid tying himself down.
Amita Morales has a mediocre life….a decent job, a car that runs, a boyfriend she tries convincing herself is worth staying with, even though any love she might have felt for him died years before. Meeting Marco Moran is nothing more than an inconvenience, and yet their attraction to one another is undeniable.
When Amita is suddenly single, everything changes. For the first time in years, her future is open to possibility and happiness. But friendship is the name of the game for Marco and Amita. The committed bachelor in him will gladly settle for friends with benefits, but even he is surprised at their off the charts chemistry. Will she be able to tame this wild playboy? Or will she have to reconcile herself to a life with a man who is determined to remain unattached?
This, the 2nd novel in The Moran Family series, can be read as a standalone, though these characters are introduced in book 1, “Saving Cruz”.
“Are all the guys who work here hot?”
I quickly get to my feet. The sultry and all too sexy voice behind me is like my own personal cat nip. I give the brunette a thorough once-over, then do it again because once really wasn’t enough. Between her knockout curves, fantastic rack, and a face most men only dream of, I’m putty in her hands. If the blush tinting her face is any indication, it’s fair to say she’s having a similar reaction to me.
My good friend Mia, who happens to be the on-again, off-again girlfriend of my older brother Cruz, as well as his assistant for our family-owned company, chimes up and breaks through the hot, sexual chemistry with an introduction. “Marco, this is my best friend, Amita Morales. Amita, this is Marco Moran. He’s the CFO here at The Moran Group.”
Amita rolls her sultry brown eyes over me once more. She reaches out her hand and murmurs, “Mr. Moran.”
It’s like sticking my finger in a light socket when I take her hand in mine. The zing of energy that races through me from her touch is tangible. She’s no longer blushing but her eyes widen expressively and she blinks rapidly, telling me she’s feeling the exact same thing based on her semi-shocked look.
Mia hops to her feet and interrupts us again. “…you need me to let him know you’re here?” I vaguely hear something that sounds like words, but I’m so damn transfixed by this woman standing in front of me I barely know my own name. “Marco, do you need me to let Cruz know you’re here?”
Regaining my senses, I quickly drop Amita’s hand and shove my own, slightly shaky in my pocket. “What? Oh, no … I’ll let myself in. You girls enjoy.” I give the beauty one more trademark Moran grin and drawl, “I look forward to seeing you again, Amita.”
She smiles broadly, showing me a row of perfect, white teeth. “Oh, you will. You can bet on it.”
Alexis James lives on the beautiful Central California coast. When she’s not spending time with her hubby of almost 30 years or her amazing kids, you can find her tapping away on the computer. She loves reading, spending time with family, reading, camping, reading….and writing too! She enjoys a good date night, an inexpensive glass of wine, and any story that can make her smile and/or cry.
Alexis’s first novel, “Losing Faith”, was released in September 2014. Her second novel, “Loving Emma”, is a standalone, though it does feature some characters from “Losing Faith”.
She invites you to visit her author pages on Facebook and Goodreads, and her website: alexisjamesauthor.com. You can also follow her on Twitter (@alexisjames27) or you can email her at: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Still Love You
Publication date: February 14th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance
*A Standalone New Adult Romance.*
Silas Sparks was my first love. My only love. The guy I thought I would marry, and almost did.
We were engaged. For a week. In high school. It was the happiest week of my life. But then reality hit and I broke off the engagement. I was only 17. I couldn’t get married! I had plans for my life. Plans that included college and someday running a large corporation.
Silas was crushed. He couldn’t understand why I did it. But that’s Silas. He lives in the moment, never worries about the future. After we broke up, he took off for Europe and never came back.
That was two years ago. I haven’t seen or talked to him since. Then just as I’m about to leave college for summer break, guess who shows up at my door? Looking even hotter than I remember, flashing that sexy smile of his, telling me he’s home for the summer, living just a few houses down from mine!
Now I’m panicking. I was never supposed to see him again. Silas is the past. I’ve moved on. And yet here he is, and all I can think about is how much I want him back. It can never happen, but even so, I can’t deny the truth. And the truth is…I still love Silas.
“Why were you flirting with her?” Willow asks. “You don’t live here. It’s not like you could date her.”
“I wasn’t flirting. I was just giving her my order.” I stretch my legs out under the table, letting them brush against Willow’s.
She crosses her legs and turns to me. “You were giving her the Silas smile. No girl can resist that and you know it. You were definitely flirting.”
“Why do you care?” I nudge her leg with mine and keep it there. I know I shouldn’t keep touching her but I can’t help it. I haven’t seen her forever and now that she’s here, I have this need to touch her, even in just an innocent way. I’m a very tactile person. Touch is a way I communicate, sometimes without even knowing it.
“I don’t care,” she says in a tone that implies the opposite. “Do what you want. I just don’t think you should flirt with some girl you have no intention of asking out. You’re leading her on.”
“A person can flirt without having it go anywhere.”
“Then what’s the purpose?”
Typical Willow logic at work. She has to have an answer to everything. An answer that makes sense to her.
“There doesn’t have to be a purpose.” I know that comment will get her going, but I put it out there anyway.
“Of course there does. You can’t just do something for no reason.”
“Fine.” I lean across the table and give her that Silas smile she was referring to. “I flirted with her so she’d get your order correct. I’m sure they’re not used to having to follow such specific guidelines for making a burger. I was just making sure they got it right.”
She sighs. “I appreciate your efforts but you don’t have to resort to selling your body just to get my order correct.”
I laugh and sit back. “I wasn’t selling my body. It was just a smile.”
“I think that girl would like more than that.” Willow holds up the receipt, which has a phone number written on back with the words ‘call me.’
“Huh. I wondered what she wrote on there.” I take the receipt and shove it in my pocket.
“You’re keeping it?” Willow looks disgusted with me.
I shrug. “You never know.”
“Never know what?”
Before I can answer, our food arrives, delivered by a short, scrawny kid who doesn’t look legally old enough to work. He’s probably the little brother of the girl at the register. They look similar.
“Wait.” Willow stops him before he leaves. “Could you get us another cup for the milkshake? And another straw?”
He nods and walks off.
I set the basket of fries between us as Willow inspects her burger, lifting the top of the bun.
“Is it the way you wanted it?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s perfect.” She puts the bun back in place. “But your flirting trick didn’t completely work. She forgot the cup and the straw.”
“That’s because you asked for that, not me.” I smile, then take a big bite of my burger.
“Whatever,” she mumbles, picking up a fry.
She eats fries one at a time, whereas I grab several and eat them all at once. That’s why we always shared an order. It would take Willow forever to finish a basket of fries on her own, eating them one at a time like that.
I wonder if she shares her fries when she goes out with other guys. I try not to think about that. Thinking about her with another guy makes me angry and I never get angry. Except when it comes to Willow. She brings out all my emotions. The good, the bad, the in-between. This girl gets to me the way no one else can.
When I left two years ago, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see her again, and now, working for her parents, I’ll see her every day.
This is going to be a very interesting summer.
Allie Everhart started writing romance three years ago with Choosing You, the first book in the bestselling Jade Series. Since then, she’s published eighteen books. Allie writes romance because she loves watching a relationship develop between her characters, from those first flirty encounters to the point they realize they’re in love. Allie’s always been a romantic, as evidenced by her early years as a wedding singer, her obsession with dating shows, and the fact that she still watches reruns of The Love Boat.
(Face-Off Series #1)
Publication date: February 15th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Former collegiate athlete and successful sports agent, Charlotte “Coach” Coachman, is a straight shooter who has a very strict policy—no dating clients. The loves of her life are coaching little league basketball and managing the careers of her players, leaving no room for men.
Coach hasn’t met an athlete she couldn’t handle and a deal she couldn’t close—until she meets Alex Parker—the NHL’s most notorious bad boy both on and off the ice.
Alex is the best defenseman in the league, breaking records along with hearts. He’s made a name for himself as a womanizer, and after a scandal involving the owner’s granddaughter, Alex is traded to Philadelphia. Still reeling from the loss of his father, Alex is on a downward spiral, drowning himself in booze and women, until Coach takes him under her wing.
She might be attracted to the sexy hockey star, and certainly not immune to his charms, but Coach can see that Alex needs her help, and coaching players is what she does best. Now that the lines are blurred and the passion between them is too strong to deny, Coach has to decide if Alex is worth making an exception to her rules.
As my cell phone rings, Tony mumbles that he’s going to grab us a few more beers, and then he disappears into the hallway. I do not recognize the number on the caller ID, but I do know the 215 area code. Philadelphia.
I press the button to answer, and before I can even say hello, a woman on the other end of the line says, “Parker, this is Coach. Mickey wanted me to call personally, so here you go. You’ve got me for all of two minutes and thirteen seconds.”
It takes me a minute to remember the name before I realize it’s Mickey’s girl, Charlotte Coachman. Her voice is so stern and confident, yet she’s exactly what I expected from what I’d heard about her from Mickey and some of her clients. She has made a name for herself in the sports world, and she’s one of the few women who didn’t sleep her way into that position, which is rare in this business.
“Hello to you, too, sweetheart.”
At first, she chuckles, but then her laughter slowly turns into a cackle. “Call me that again, Parker, and watch what happens. Let’s get something straight. I’m not one of your puck bunnies. I have a name. That name is Coach or Charlie, but it sure as hell isn’t sweetheart. You got that?”
This chick is crazy and feisty, and I kind of like it.
“One minute and thirty seconds.” She sounds like she’s chewing glass, the words harsh and painful on the tip of her tongue. “In the interest of saving ourselves the headache, I’ve arranged for my secretary to meet you at the apartment building. Please don’t look at her, smile in her direction, or flirt with her because I’m sick of replacing secretaries. I did you a solid with the Philly deal, so I’d appreciate you doing the same and keeping your hands to yourself.”
She went from intriguing to working my last nerve in a matter of seconds.
“Give me some credit at least. You make me out to be a total creep.”
“That’s not entirely off base, Parker. You seem to have a problem with keeping your pants on—or is it finding them?”
I can hear her covering the phone and chuckling to herself before she returns to being a mega bitch.
Damn those stupid YouTube videos.
What is her problem?
She’s so uptight, she might snap in half.
“Like I was saying, Kayla will meet you at the building with the keys. If you need food, clothes, whatever, just let her know, and she will have it delivered. I put my ass on the line for you. Please make sure you’re at practice on time.”
“Sure thing, boss lady. Anything else?”
She sighs loudly into the receiver. “No. My cab is here, and I have to hang up. Mickey said you had the address and Kayla’s contact info. Just call her when you arrive. That’s all.”
I’m about to speak when I realize she already hung up on me and without even saying good-bye. I guess she sucks with them as much as I do.
Every second of our phone call replays in my mind as I try to wrap my head around what the hell just happened. It’s not hard to see why Charlotte is Mickey’s favorite agent and close friend. She’s the female version of him.
Jillian loves Mafia men, sports, bad boys, dirty talkers, strong female characters, and books with plenty of heat, all of which you will find in her books. As a lover of all things bookish, she has a serious book hoarding problem and runs a book blog in her free time. When she’s not reading, writing, or blogging, she’s obsessively fangirling over hockey players and can be found wherever she can catch the next hockey game.
Publication date: February 14th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
“A story that captures your heart and continues you thinking about it long after you fall asleep.”
Autumn Nash lives a nomadic existence with her harvest-travelling father, except every summer when they return to one place like clockwork…Ligonier, PA. But this season, Autumn meets a young man who changes her world and makes her long for more.
Eric Foster has been sent to stay the summer in Ligonier with his grandfather in hopes of altering his path as his life spirals downward. His direction changes the moment he sees Autumn; he knows his very reason for breathing is solely to be with her.
When Autumn is ripped away from Ligonier, she leaves Eric confused and devastated that their time is over. Both teens struggle through the years gone by without the other. Will Autumn ever see the boy who changed her life again? Will Eric wait for her? Will Autumn ever make it back to Ligonier? And what will happen when buried secrets surface?
Discover a love that takes you back to what it’s all about—the confusing, yet simplistic, beginnings of falling in love and watch it evolve into something that takes your breath away.
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So this is me in short. I’m plus size and completely adorable (or so my husbands tells me) A momma of three princes who light my world. I drink way too much coffee, chocolate is a staple. I love to write after midnight and my love for short stories will never fade. With such a limited amount of time to enjoy quiet writing, I have mastered the skills of fitting a lot into a small amount of pages. Humour keeps me smiling and well.. if you’ve read my books you’ll know that I put a lot of myself into the characters. And to answer your questions. My best friends and I forgot the part about growing up and love every minute of it. Aside from writing I also run a publication IndieLove Magazine, promoting Indie Awesomes from a range of fields and professions. Check it out at http://www.indielovemagazine.com
In 2017 I will be saying goodbye to Chick lit for a while and heading into Contemporary Romance. I hate to be put in a box! Join my street team at http://www.sarahgai.com and come have some fun!
Love to all xo.
Wanting to write for all the women out there who want a good short read about strong friendships, romance and body positive, love the skin you’re in kind of fiction. Check out http://Facebook.com/sarahgaiauthor or http://www.sarahgai.com