Excerpt Reveal: Silenced by Serena Akeroyd

 

Title: Silenced

Series: The Forgotten Boys #1

Author: Serena Akeroyd

Genre: Dark Mafia Romance

Trope: Hades & Persephone Modern Retelling

Release Date: June 1, 2023

BLURB

A Hades and Persephone modern-day retelling.

I sit on a throne of sins.

Silent in the shadows, untouchable like the King of the Underworld himself.

Few even know the sound of my voice, but those who fear me call me Monster. My men just call me Pakhan.

To her, I am Nikolai.

Her savior. Her captor. Her lover.

With hair as bright as the sun, a face that could sink a thousand ships, and more curves than I can handle, Cassiopeia. Is. Everything.

But she’s in danger.

And safety comes with a price tag.

She can fight that, can even fight me, but I’m her Hades and I won’t let my Persephone go…

This is book one of The Forgotten Boys, a Russian Mafia series set in the Five Points' Mob Universe

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EXCERPT

WHERE IT BEGINS…

“Do you think she’s dead?”

It’s a good question.

Through the dusty glass panes of a window that saw better days a decade ago, I can barely make out the still form lying on the shady motel room’s vomit-yellow, flower-splotched carpet.

Cassiopeia Rundel could be dead.

From this distance and with the terrible visibility, I can’t answer for certain.

Dmitri Turgenev, my second-in-command, nudges me at my lack of response. “Well?”

I grunt.

He scrubs his floppy blond hair out of his eyes, muttering, “The men are in the car. You can talk.”

My brow furrows as I shoot him an impatient look and sign, “You need a haircut.”

He squints at me. “I might if you told me to.”

“When do I ever talk?” I dismiss.

He mumbles something beneath his breath then switches to Russian: “You’d think I’d get used to you being a mute after eighteen years of knowing you, wouldn’t you?”

With a pointed stare, I nod.

“Why is it you can talk to Misha? I mean five words are five words. Why do I get zero?”

This time, his petulance has me rolling my eyes even as I wipe at the glass to try to clean it. I need to know if the woman is dead or not because there’s no sense in wasting my time on rescuing a corpse.

READ ALL OF CHAPTER ONE

(Silenced is still in its editing phase and changes may 

occur between this version and the final version)

AUTHOR BIO

USA Today and International Best Selling Author Serena Akeroyd aka G. A. Mazurke is most known for her mafia and MC series set in the Five Points Mob Universe.

Avid reader of all things romance, she first started her career as a why choose author in both contemporary and paranormal. She eventually made her way to MF romance where she found her groove with the O’Donnelly brothers, the Satan Sinners and most recently the Valentini Family.

In her back list you can find some MM, MF, MFM and Why Choose romances. HEA guaranteed!

When not writing Serena is either reading, traveling or coloring.

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Excerpt Reveal: 𝙂𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘼𝙘𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙮 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙚𝙮 𝙄𝙡𝙚𝙧

𝙂𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝘼𝙘𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙮 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙚𝙮 𝙄𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙊𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 19! 𝙒𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙥𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪! 𝘼𝙙𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙏𝘽𝙍 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮!

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“I didn’t take you up there for that,” he says, eyeing me through his lashes. Is he too afraid to be vulnerable in front of me and say what he means? An uncertain smile edges onto his face. It’s so uncommon with Marek, I almost think I’m seeing things.

“It’s my fault. No matter how angry I am with you, it’s like I’m incapable of holding you accountable for the things you do.”

“Acknowledging you have a problem is half the battle,” he says, leaning over me to flip the lock to open. “You’re free to do whatever you want, Palmer.”

“That’s the problem, though, isn’t it? You’ve created this world where my freedom doesn’t belong to me, and now, it’s like my choices aren’t my own anymore.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did anyway.” I tug on the handle and open the door.

“So, what was that just now?” He glances over his shoulder. “You laying yourself out for me as a test or something?”

“That was me taking back a little bit of my control. I get to decide when and where. You look at me like I’m something to possess, but that needs to stop now.” I grab my bag off the seat and shut the door.

Marek rolls down the window. “Whether you believe it or not, I don’t want to possess you.”

“I’ll ask you again, what do you want to do with me, then?”

“Worship you.” The window rolls up, ending this conversation, and he drives away.

I’m left alone in the parking lot, wondering how he always manages to have the last delicious, mind-altering word.




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Excerpt Reveal: Trillion By Winter Renshaw

 

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Synopsis

Trey Westcott—devastatingly gorgeous. Intimidatingly brilliant. Powerful beyond belief.

A man with all the money in the world—literally.

As the first trillionaire in existence, my boss lives a life most people can only dream of. Anything he wants—anything at all—is a snap-of-the-fingers away. 

But when the coldhearted magnate snaps his fingers and requests me for a six month stint on his arm playing the role of his devoted fiancée, he makes an offer I can’t refuse.

And so I don’t. 

But I make it clear that for the next 180 days, he’ll have my time, my body, my attention, my discreet professionalism—everything except my heart.

It’s not for sale. 

Because all the money in the world can’t change the secret I’ve kept the last ten years. A secret that complicates the very business deal I’m to help him secure. A secret that makes the undeniable tension between us all the more forbidden.

Trey Westcott can have anything he wants ... but he can never have me. 

Even if he’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Excerpt

CHAPTER TWO


Trey


“So my cousin was at this party with Westcott a couple of years ago, and she claims he snorted pure Peruvian cocaine off a stripper using a ten thousand-dollar bill, and then, get this—he lit the bill on fire,” a woman’s nasally voice trails from the eighth-floor break room.

Never heard that one before …

I stop outside the door and listen. I’m on my way to a conference call, but I can spare a few minutes for some cheap entertainment, especially on a monotonous Tuesday. Most people hate Mondays. I hate Tuesdays. Mondays are full of hope and ambition for the week. Wednesday’s halfway to Friday, Thursday closer still. But Tuesdays? They’re boring, tedious. Generally unexciting.

“That’s nothing,” a second woman says. Her voice holds the desperate, youthful quality of a follower. A sheep who goes with the herd. I can sniff out those types a mile away. “I used to date this paralegal who worked for one of his attorneys. Said Westcott threw the most insane parties where everyone had to sign an NDA the second they walked in, and she was pretty sure everyone got roofied because the next day no one could remember what happened.”

I stifle a snort.

Fake news …

“I’d legit give an entire paycheck to be a fly on the wall at one of his parties,” the first one says.

“Right?” the second one—the spineless disciple—counters. “Did you know his house is, like, two-hundred-thousand square feet? I tried to look up pictures of the inside of it, but all I could find is this book that was written in the nineties when his parents were still alive. Not going to lie, I was kind of disappointed. Reminded me of a castle-version of my Nana’s house. Hope he’s updated the place. God knows he can afford it.”

The first one laughs. “Maybe he wants it to look old on purpose? Wasn’t he screwing that woman twice his age a few years ago? Maybe he likes old things.”

My jaw tightens. The woman to whom they’re referring is my aunt. She accompanied me to a bevy of fundraisers one year when I was tired of the revolving door of desperate women sucking my dick for a chance to get a photo with me on a red carpet.

I throw up a little in my mouth.

Only an ignorant idiot would mistake my aunt for a lover.

They’re lucky she isn’t here to listen to this bullshit. She’s made grown men cry with her sweet smile and cutting tongue. These two would be minced meat.

“Eh, I doubt that,” the other one says. “Did you see the last girl he dated? Freaking. Drop. Dead. Out. Of. This. World. Gorgeous.”

She was easy on the eyes.

I’ll give her that.

But that was about the extent of her admirable qualities.

“Didn’t he date two girls at once before? Like a throuple kind of thing?” Number two asks.

Dated? No. Fucked until I grew bored of them? Absolutely.

“Probably,” the other laughs.

“Do you guys actually believe all that?” A third woman interjects, her voice soft yet feminine but her tone direct, no-nonsense. “If he makes everyone sign NDAs at his parties, then couldn’t your cousin get sued for sharing that? And if your friend and everyone at that party thought they were drugged, wouldn’t they want to get tested? Also, they haven’t made ten-thousand dollar bills in decades. That, and I highly doubt he does coke. Everyone knows he’s vegan.”

Silence.

“Also, what the inside of his home looks like is none of your business—that’s extremely invasive,” the third woman continues. “How would you feel if someone was Googling your address, trying to find pictures of where you slept? Where you ate dinner? And doesn’t one of you have a sugar daddy right now? You were just talking about your ‘allowance’ a minute ago …”

Silence.

“I kind of feel like when you’re the richest person in the world, people are going to be curious,” the second woman says, a little late on her defense. “It comes with the territory.”

“Yeah,” the first one chimes in. “It’s not like we’re being stalkers. It’s different when you’re famous.”

“Ah, true,” my fearless advocate sighs, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

I lean closer to the door, just enough to catch a glimpse of her face – only to be met with the back of her head and the ice-blonde waves cascading over her shoulders. A pinstriped blouse is tied high on her waist and cuffed at her elbows, and a fitted skirt skims her hourglass curves.

She reminds me of one of those Old Hollywood pin-up girls my grandfather was obsessed with in his younger days. He kept a full file of photos in a desk drawer in his study, where my notoriously jealous grandmother would never see them.

I lean away before I’m spotted.

“My mistake, ladies,” the modern-day Marilyn Monroe says. “I must have forgotten rich people aren’t human. By all means, carry on.”

I glance at my timepiece and make a mental note to have my right-hand man and personal attorney, Broderick, check the cameras in the break room so I can get the names of the two Gossiping Gabbys. And I take a hint of pleasure in imagining them commiserating at some God-awful trendy neighborhood bar, drinking sugary cocktails that match the pink slips they’re about to receive.

I have zero tolerance for bullshit gossip—but I’ll make an exception if it’s flattering.

I have a business to run—biggest in the world, in fact. And I’ve had more than a few deals go south because of idiotic rumors.

The women’s conversation pivots to the topic of “keto friendly chocolate”, and I take that as my cue to leave. Only the instant I take a step past the open doorway is the same instant the curvy blonde in the pinstripe blouse exits the break room.

We collide in passing, but it’s a subtle collision.

My arm brushes hers just enough for a quick startle.

Palm splaying across her chest, she apologizes.

Our eyes lock, like she’s realizing who I am. This happens on a daily basis. For whatever reason, I intimidate the fuck out of people with my mere presence.

The woman sucks in a breath before going silent, recognition widening her eyes, and then she brushes a flaxen wave from her forehead, chewing the inner corner of the juiciest rose-colored mouth I’ve ever seen.

Funny how a moment ago she was so brave, standing up for a man she’d never met and now she’s a deer in the headlights. Doe-eyed and all.

“What’s your name?” I ask. A work badge hangs from her neck, but I can’t take my attention off her pleasing almond-shaped gaze with their spray of dark lashes and ocean-blue irises. A chorus of wild flowers, sun-dried cotton, and fresh air fills my lungs. She smells like a morning in the countryside, and for the briefest moment I’m transported to childhood summers at my grandparents’ country home in Surrey.

She swallows, straightens her shoulders, and tips her chin upwards. “Sophie Bristol.”

She doesn’t ask my name. I imagine she doesn’t need to.

“Thank you,” My gaze skims past her delicate shoulders toward the break room doorway, “for … that.”

Her full lips press and she offers a slight nod. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m not vegan by the way,” I add.

Her nose wrinkles. “I’m sorry?”

“You told them I was vegan. But you should know, I’m very much a carnivore.” I give her a nuanced wink and earn a reserved smile from her pretty mouth in return.

With that, I’m gone.

About the Author

Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi. 

And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j

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Excerpt Reveal: The Cruelest Stranger By Winter Renshaw

Amazon - http://mybook.to/CruelestStrangerWR
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 Synopsis

The first time I saw him was at a bar called Ophelia’s on a misty Thursday night. I was there to drown my sorrows after a trying day, he was there to escape the storm. After a brief yet incredibly cruel exchange, the handsome stranger bolted before I had a chance to tell him off. Incensed and three cocktails deep, I followed him out the door, determined to give the audacious Adonis a piece of my mind.

Tearing after him in heels and barely able to keep up in the freezing rain, I ended my chase when I realized where he was going.

They say never to judge someone unless you know their story.

I never could have anticipated his...

And I never could have anticipated the way our paths would cross again—or that I would one day find myself falling for a man with a hollow cavity where his heart should be, a man as callous as he was beautiful, as complicated as he was mesmeric.

They say never to judge someone unless you know their story.

This one’s ours.


Excerpt

Through the shadowy haze of Ophelia’s, my unfocused gaze struggles to home in at first. And then I see him perfectly.
Chiseled cheekbones.
Impeccably-groomed obsidian hair.
Broad shoulders hardly contained in a navy cashmere sweater.
Jawline for days.
Could this be …?
Is that Mrs. Angelino’s nephew?
I take a generous mouthful of gin and tonic, contemplating how best to introduce myself. My palms tingle, and I rub them against the tops of my thighs, sucking in a shallow breath.
There’s a chance this man isn’t Garrett, and the more I think about it, he likely isn’t. I’ve yet to catch him scanning the room in search of someone.
But still—if it is him, I’d hate for him to think he’s being stood up. I would never do that to anyone, for any reason. My life’s mantra can be boiled down to the whole “do unto others …” saying.
Clearing my throat, I lean in his direction. “Excuse me?”
He doesn’t hear me.
Waving my hand to capture his attention, I say it again, “Hi. Excuse me.”
Still, nothing.
It’s like he’s in his own world—ten feet away.
The friendly, kindergarten-teacher smile teetering on my poppy-stained lips fades with the realization that I’m being ignored.
“Hi, excuse me …” Third time’s the charm. I wave once more, wiggling my fingers the way you’d politely flag down a restaurant server.
The man turns to his left, dark brows knit together and gaze tightened in my direction—and then he does the craziest thing: lifting his finger to his lips, he shushes me.
He. Shushes. Me.
Like a child.
Facing ahead, I take another drink, the glass trembling in my hand as a cocktail of thoughts swarm my head. The mirror behind the bar catches my reflection, and it isn’t pretty, but this time it has nothing to do with the damp, wiry, dishwater-blonde bun or the bar bathroom makeover.
Basic human decency is the one thing I value most in this world, and this man has none of it.
The full weight of his piercing stare anchors me to my seat, and every atom in my body is shouting for me to stay, to not march ten feet down the bar to give him a piece of my mind.
But today marks the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life, I was caught in a rainstorm and stood up, and I’m about two cocktails deep.
My self-control is non-existent.
Drink in hand, I slide off my seat and saunter toward the infuriatingly handsome asshole in the five-hundred-dollar sweater, but before I have a chance to utter a single word, he speaks first, “You seem incredibly insecure about something. Are you okay?”
“Excuse me?” I’m glaring, and I never glare. This isn’t good. This man’s about to bring out a side of me I never knew existed. And what the hell is he talking about? Insecure? “What kind of—”
“—what kind of asshole bothers a stranger for no reason?” he commandeers my question like he owns it. “Let me ask you this, when you saw me come in, saw me take a seat at the end of the bar away from everyone, what part of that gave you the impression that I wanted to be bothered?”
The man has a point—especially if he isn’t Garrett.
But it still doesn’t make him any less of a prick.
“I wasn’t trying to bother you, I was—”
“Really?” His full lips tug into a taut smirk, his tone as sharp as it is incredulous. “Because I’m pretty sure when you were waving at me and smiling and saying ‘Hi, excuse me’ in that cutesy little voice fifty thousand times … you were trying to bother me.”
“Are you always this cruel?”
“Are you always this desperate?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
My grip tightens on my glass. I’d love nothing more than to dump the remainder of this drink down his pretentious designer sweater.
Lucky for him that isn’t my style.
Besides, it’d be a shame to waste all that top-shelf liquor on a bottom-shelf bastard.
“For your information, I was supposed to meet someone here tonight. Someone fitting your description,” I say.
His jaw sets.
He takes a sip of his drink staring ahead, flashing a smirk that advertises a perfect dimple in the middle of his cheek. “Sure you were.”
“What, you think this is something I do to meet men?” My voice is pitched higher than I intended.
“You said it.” His brows rise as he centers his drink on a coaster.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”
He sniffs. “I’m everyone’s type.”
I’m … speechless.
Is this jerk for real?!
Not only is this vexatious stranger cruel, heartless, and lacking in basic human decency, he’s also the epitome of arrogant.
“You can leave now.” He waves me off, but I’m stunned into silence as I try to gather my thoughts so I can leave him with one last zinger of a comeback.
“Everything okay over here?” Eduardo is hunched over the other side of the bar, his watchful stare passing between us. I swear he came out of nowhere—that or I was too distracted by this man’s willful audacity to notice him approaching us.
The cocky Adonis shoots me a glance before turning his attention to the bartender.
“We’re good, Eduardo,” he says. “I was just giving our friend here a lesson in etiquette, appropriacy, and basic decorum.”
Once again, I have no words.
Rising from his bar stool, he finishes the remainder of his drink with a smooth swallow before shouldering into his wool trench, heading for the door, and disappearing into the cold, dark evening.
Rain drops pelt the windows, obscuring anything and everything on the other side of the glass.
Peeling my fruitless gaze from that direction, it settles on an umbrella leaning against the wall next to the door.
His umbrella.
The blackest black.
The color of his soul—or the empty space in his chest where his heart should be.
Fitting.
Without giving it another thought, I slap a twenty on the counter and slip into my coat.
A moment later, I’m grabbing the stupid thing and diving out into the rain, praying I catch him in time.
As incensed as I am, as infuriating as he is, sometimes the best thing to do is fight cruelty with kindness. It’s something I learned early on in my life and something I instill in my students from the second they enter my classroom.
I spot him at the end of the block, waiting for the crosswalk to change.
Picking up my pace, I canter over cracked and pitted concrete, squeeze past umbrella-wielding locals—and make it to the end of the street just in time for the light to flick from neon white to warning-sign orange, forcing me to stop.
I wait where I am, my gaze trained on him in case he turns onto a side street.
The traffic signals begin to change, and within seconds, the crosswalk blinks to white.
I sprint across, ignoring the stinging cold rain drops pelting my skin, the frigid air biting through my clothes, and the painful clench in my jaw that keeps my teeth from rattling.
I’m a mere half of a block from him when he turns and disappears inside a local business.
But it isn’t just any business …
… it’s the Paulley-Hallbrook Funeral Home—a place I know well.
A moment later, I’m standing outside the very doors he walked into mere moments ago, frozen in every sense of the word.
The rain slows, gentle.
And then it stops.
Earthy petrichor fills my lungs as I witness the dark-haired, cruel-hearted mystery man as he’s greeted by a lady in a charcoal pant suit.
She places a hand on his shoulder and gives him an apologetic wince before escorting him away.
I wanted to give him the umbrella to teach him a lesson in compassion.
The irony of that isn’t lost on me.

About Winter Renshaw

Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.

And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j


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Excerpt Reveal: Descent by Natasha Knight

   

DESCENT by Natasha Knight  

Release Date: January 20th    

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Blurb: 
Persephone Abbot is in my debt. Exactly the way I want it. The sins of the father should not be inherited by the daughter. It’s unfair, I know, but since when has life been fair? The events that brought us here began on Halloween night more than five years ago in that chapel ruin. I saved her that night. Carried her home through the storm that was the omen warning of what would come. I didn’t know it then, but I do now. Her father destroyed something precious. Someone innocent. I don’t believe in an eye for an eye. I won’t just balance the scales of justice, I’ll tip them so far in my favor his legacy will topple. I’ll take that which is most precious. His daughter. I’ll own her. Make her mine. But I’m not the only monster lurking in the dark corners of her world. She’ll sleep in the bed of the beast but I’ll keep her safe. Protect her fiercely. And maybe I'll keep her. Set in the Benedetti Mafia World, Descent is a brand new Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Romance.        

Excerpt:
It’s high time the Abbots pay for what they did. Persephone will be sacrificed, but that can’t be helped. It’s fitting, actually. Almost poetic.   An eye for an eye.   A girl for a girl. 

        

About the Author: 

USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance, Natasha Knight specializes in dark, tortured heroes. Happily-Ever-Afters are guaranteed, but she likes to put her characters through hell to get them there. She’s evil like that.  

Connect w/Natasha:  
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Excerpt Reveal: Conceal By Ava Harrison

Coming Soon!!

Conceal
By Ava Harrison

Release date: January 19th

 

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Facebook Giveaway: https://bit.ly/2SZjtny


Excerpt:

Reluctantly, I look up, and I’m met with the clearest green eyes I have ever seen. They are a color I imagine is only present in the tropics.

Endless depths.

But it’s the whole picture that does me in. This man is gorgeous and dangerously so. With tousled dark brown hair and a sharp jaw that looks like it was molded from granite, he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine.

“Like what you see?” a voice asks, and I shake my head and right myself.

That’s when I realize I was not just staring at this stranger but gawking. And not only did he notice, but he called me out on it, too.

Ass.

Who does that?

If someone is caught staring—maybe drooling is more like it—you say nothing. You pretend you didn’t notice.

Jeez.

Common courtesy.

My cheeks begin to warm, and I know they are turning crimson.

I lower my gaze, but before I can fully pull away from him, I notice the smirk. A damn smirk with a dimple and all. This guy’s head is so big, it probably has its own zip code.

My back goes ramrod straight.

Old Willow would have told him she'd seen better. A lie, but she never passed up an opportunity for a good comeback.

New Willow mutters a comeback under her breath. “Not particularly.”

I turn away from him. I’d rather walk home from the city than ask this prick for money for gas.

“Shame,” I hear, but I refuse to look. I peer down at the ground and watch his footsteps. Staring awkwardly at the asphalt has my other senses heightened.

I can smell the faint waft of cologne as he passes. I can hear him rummaging in his pocket.

Then I hear him answer his phone. He’s distracted as he walks toward the convenience store attached to the gas station. He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even realize he dropped his wallet while he was fumbling in his pocket for his phone.

I open my mouth to speak, to get his attention and tell him what happened, but I don’t say anything.

Fuck that.

Excerpt Reveal: Down to Deep By J. Daniels

 

DOWN TO DEEP
Dirty Deeds Book 4

By J. Daniels

Release Date: October 8

Two single parents and three adorable kids are about to have a summer they'll never forget in this sexy, heartwarming new novel of the New York Times bestselling series.

Following the sudden death of his wife, Nathan Bell has spent nearly two years burying himself in work and neglecting his biggest responsibility: his daughter. Overcome with guilt, he wants to connect with little Marley, but he doesn’t know how to do it alone. And then Jenna Savage throws him a lifeline.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
A single mom of twins, Jenna is more than capable of taking care of Nate’s adorable two-year-old, and wants to help Nathan however she can. Soon, attachments are made, forcing Jenna and her kids into new territory. And the closer everyone becomes, the more right it feels.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Falling in love forces Nathan to face his biggest fear, and when hearts, both big and little, are on the line, the only thing scarier than needing someone is losing them all.

Buy Links:

☆ Amazon ➜ https://geni.us/downtoodeep
 
☆ Apple Books ➜ http://bit.ly/dtd_ibooks
 
☆ Nook ➜ http://bit.ly/dtd_nook
 
☆ Kobo ➜ http://bit.ly/dtd_kobo


About the Author

J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Alabama Summer, Dirty Deeds and Sweet Addiction series.

Best known for her sexy, small-town romances, her debut novel, Sweet Addiction, was first published in 2014 and went on to become an international bestseller. Since then, she has published more than ten novels, including the Dirty Deeds series with Forever Romance.

Daniels grew up in Baltimore and currently lives in Maryland with her husband and two kids. A former full-time Radiologic Technologist, she began writing romance after college and quickly discovered a passion for it. You'll still catch her in scrubs every now and then, but most of her time is spent writing these days—a career she is eternally grateful for.

Always an avid reader, Daniels enjoys books of all kinds, but favors Romance (of course) and Fantasy. She loves hiking, traveling, going to the mountains for the weekend, and spending time with her family.

To receive an email when she releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! http://bit.ly/jdaniels_newsletter

NEXT RELEASE: All We Want, book six in the sexy and hilariously charming Alabama Summer series. Now LIVE!

She loves meeting and interacting with her readers.

Visit her website to see where you can find her! www.authorjdaniels.com


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Excerpt Blast: Our Song By Lauren Runow

Take a peek inside Our Song by Lauren Runow! 

One-click your copy of this rockstar romance today!

Our Song by Lauren Runow

Designed by Lauren Runow

Release Date: September 10, 2019

Add it to your Goodreads TBR: http://bit.ly/2MkhXcx

PURCHASE HERE!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2zGwjMO

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2kcPV78

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2kbp0IT

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2kAGMFx

Blurb:

After a devastating accident crushed my dreams, I ended up back in my hometown teaching kindergarten. I was trying to make the best of it. That is, until the world I had to leave behind, showed up in my classroom in the form of a five-year-old little girl. Her father living the exact life I almost had.

Adam Jacobson is known as the bad boy of rock. While he and his band tour the world, they leave a trail of mayhem. What no one knows is behind the music is a caring, straightedge man with a secret — a daughter who the world is about to discover.

When they move to my small town, their secret is blown. He needs my help to keep her out of the media, and with each exchange we grow closer. Only problem is I need to stay away from the memories he ignites, and the temptations he brings my way.

Secrets I’ve kept and thoughts of that fatal night come crashing back into my life. I have to wonder if it was more than fate that brought his little girl into my classroom.

EXCERPT:

“Thank you for going with us today,” I say after getting settled on the freeway, heading back home after having dinner together.

Cailin didn’t even make it this far before passing out.

I sneak a quick glance at Sarah and feel a pain in my chest when I meet her eyes. There’s something about her that makes my heart pound for seemingly no reason at all.

“I had so much fun. I’ve never been with just one child who’s old enough to walk on their own and actually be interested in the animals. I brought my niece a few years ago, but she was a little too young. It’s fun to be able to relax more and enjoy the animals without stressing over where everyone is or if they are taken care of.”

“Do you enjoy teaching?”

She lets out an uneasy breath, and I turn to see her expression. She’s staring out the window like she’s thinking. I touch her hand. I can feel that whatever she is thinking isn’t good. I felt it last time we had this conversation too. There’s something she’s not letting me in on.

When our fingers first meet, she flinches ever so slightly. When she doesn’t turn, I grip her harder, opening her palm and entangling my fingers with hers.

I feel the tension slowly leave her body as I run my thumb over hers.

Finally, she speaks, “It’s not like I don’t like teaching. I love it actually. It just wasn’t my first choice.”

I decide not to push her and ask what that first choice was. Obviously, it’s something she still struggles with, and who am I to bring up sore subjects from the past?

We drive in silence, hands intertwined. Like a Nightmare by Deadset Society comes on the radio, and I turn it up slightly, using the control on the steering wheel.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Sarah singing. “You know this song?”

“Yeah. I used to listen to My Darkest Days, so I followed them when they started the new band after Matt Walst left.”

I’m stunned to silence. I expect people to know band names and even song titles, but I don’t know many people who care enough to actually know the intricacies of band members and following those members when bands breaks up, only to create new ones.

I try to keep my eyes on the road as I also stare at her in shock.

She drops her shoulder, giving me a deadpan expression. “Why are you so surprised I know that?” My eyebrows rise, and a genuine, deep belly laugh escapes her sexy lips. “I’m not everything you see.”

A grin spreads across my face. “I can tell, and believe me, it makes me want to see more.”

Her cheeks flush, and I squeeze her hand tighter.

As we get off the freeway, Cailin wakes up, yawning as she asks, “Are we home yet?”

“Almost,” I say. “We have to take Sarah home first.”

“How come she can’t just stay with us? Have a sleepover?” Cailin whines as I hear Sarah choke on the water she was drinking.

I wink in her direction while responding. “Maybe another time, but not tonight.”

Sarah covers her mouth as she coughs harder.

When I pull into her complex, she says goodbye to Cailin as I open the door. “Stay right here, okay, sweetheart? I’m just going to make sure Sarah makes it up to her apartment.” I put on a song Cailin likes and close the door before rushing to Sarah’s side.

Sarah drops her water bottle when she sees me appear on the opposite side of the truck. After leaning down to pick it up, she fidgets with her hair, making sure it’s smooth and in place.

“You don’t have to walk me up. I’ll be fine,” she says, looking everywhere but at me.

I reach for her fingers, lacing them with mine. “I want to.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I nod my head toward her door.

“Thank you again for inviting me,” she says as we stroll in the direction of her place.

“We’ll have to plan something again soon.”

Her lips tug up to a smile. “I’d like that.”

We reach her door, and she takes out her keys, unlocking it but not pushing it open. Instead, she pauses and glances up at me, waiting for what I’m going to say.

I step closer, so our bodies are inches apart. “I’m not going to rush this.”

Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve been with girls I never wanted, but I’ve never been with anyone I actually wanted a future with, especially this bad. I don’t want to screw this up. I’m going to kiss you though.”

I run my fingers across the nape of her neck. Her pulse is thumping out of control. Mine feels the same way.

I slowly lean in. “Is that okay with you?”

Her lids close as she nods ever so slightly. Her scent is the first thing I notice as I take her in—cherries, vanilla, and so fucking mine.

Our mouths brush against each other as I hold her in place. Her lips parting slightly, I lick them, seeing if she’ll invite me in. When she does, I have to hold my breath and make myself not take more than she’s willing to give me right now as our first kiss.

I wasn’t kidding. I want to take this slow. I want to do this right.

It takes everything I have to pull back as I place my forehead to hers. “Slowly,” I whisper more to myself than anything else.

She nods, and I can’t help myself when I lean in again, entangling my tongue with hers and pushing her against the wall, wanting just a little more.

I pause our kiss, keeping her pressed to my body as I breathe her in one more time.

When I step back, everything I’m feeling reflects back at me, written all over her face. I take my thumb and wipe her bottom lip, needing one last touch from her.

“I’ll see you soon,” I say as I step back.

She waves goodbye as she picks up everything that she was holding that’s now on the floor. I try not to laugh that she dropped them, knowing, with a kiss like that, I might have done the same thing if something were in my hand.

About the Author:

Lauren Runow is the author of multiple Adult Contemporary Romance novels, some more dirty than others. When Lauren isn't writing, you'll find her listening to music, at her local CrossFit, reading, or at the baseball field with her boys. Her only vice is coffee, and she swears it makes her a better mom!

Lauren is a graduate from the Academy of Art in San Francisco and is the founder and co-owner of the community magazine she and her husband publish. She is a proud Rotarian, helps run a local non-profit kids science museum, and was awarded Woman of the Year from Congressman Garamendi. She lives in Northern California with her husband and two sons.

You can also stay in touch through the social media links below.

Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/laurenjrunow

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Join her reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1628591530724682

or sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/btD6j9