Launching Romance into the stars.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Collateral Lives - Book #4 in my Blown Away series is out Friday, June 15th!

I got my start writing science fiction/military romance and the sub-genres have always been near and dear to my heart. In my opinion, there’s nothing sexier than a man or woman in uniform. My Blown Away series is no exception, getting its inspiration from the men and women who serve in EOD, explosive ordnance disposal. It’s got sexy in spades. I’m going to share some of my favorite scenes from the series.

Buy Links:

Blown Away (#1) Kindle/Nook/Kobo/Smashwords

Explosive Affairs (#2) Kindle/Nook/Kobo/Smashwords

Bomb Voyage (#3) Kindle/Nook/Kobo/Smashwords

Collateral Lives (#4) Kindle/Nook/Kobo/Smashwords

Rebel Souls (#5) Kindle/Nook/Kobo/Smashwords


*Below scenes contain sexual situations and graphic language*


Blown Away (#1)

The door to the shower opened.

MacKay turned, stared through the twisting steam, and found herself without breath. There Boomer stood in his pajama bottoms, chest bare. Her heart raced, pounding so hard against her ribs, she feared they may fracture.

“What do you mean, don’t worry about them?” he demanded. What did she mean? She had to get the hell of here. No time for breakfast or further mistakes.

“I’m going home.” She closed her lids and tried to ignore him, hoping he’d get the hint and shut the door.

“I thought you were staying the night?”

“I have too much to do in the office tomorrow.” MacKay opened her eyes again and did her best to pack her expression full of “we had a good time, now go away.” But the longer she held his gaze, the more she wanted to stay and dig herself deeper into trouble. Worse yet, something told her he wouldn’t back down. He didn’t say anything.

As Boomer stepped into the shower, his PJ bottoms turned translucent. The thin fabric clung to his body and accentuated every muscle he possessed along with a hard cock she’d gotten more than familiar with through the night. Her stomach fluttered, and a small gasp escaped her lips.

He slid his hands along both sides of her face and backed her against the tile wall, staring at her, hunger all over his face. “I warned you, I don’t do one-night stands.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

No, she wasn’t leaving any time soon. MacKay ran her hands up his chest and around his neck. She should say no. She should push him out of the shower, get dressed, and leave. Both of them needed to forget this had even happened. And gods, he’d sounded serious about the one-night stand thing.

Perhaps she’d been mistaken, and it meant more to him. She broke the kiss and leaned back. “Boomer, I’m—”

“Pushing me away.” He leaned in and nipped her bottom lip, kissed the corner of her mouth, and stroked his thumb along her jaw. “Not going to let you.” “Boomer.” He pressed his lips to her ear and spoke in Odroxian. She’d no clue what he said, but each word jolted through her body. Her heart slammed against her ribs, racing. The man would undo her.

“Please. This isn’t a good idea.”

“What isn’t a good idea? Letting go? Living? Loving? Feeling something for someone? The harder you push, the more I want to melt the slush moving through your veins and take away the pain I see all over your face. You’ve been too long inside the iron fortress you’ve erected. I’m going to knock those walls down and show you it’s okay to let someone in.”

“I can’t.” But even as she said it, the walls he promised to knock down cracked. Her heart swelled, and breathing seemed impossible.

“I don’t believe it. Because, when we made love, I saw a woman who could. Open up, Alice. Let me in.”

“Don’t call me—” He leaned in and kissed her silent. MacKay surrendered her soul. She couldn’t deny the feelings growing inside her. She wanted him to knock down her walls, hold her, make her feel human again. She couldn’t fight the need or the hunger. Her hands slipped to his waistband and tugged the tie free. She pushed the fabric off his hips, and the water-laden pajama bottoms dropped to the tile.


Explosive Affairs (#2)

Happy trail: That sexy little strip of hair running from a man’s belly button to his—towel. Jenna stared at the fluffy white barrier blocking her view from traveling any farther south. She’d enjoyed the scenic route, visually devoured the hard ridges of his six-pack abs and the way the water trickled over his flesh while it took the path of least resistance. She shouldn’t stare. It was inappropriate to ogle the higher-ranking beefcake, but she couldn’t stop. What woman in her right mind would be able to?

He cleared his throat, and Jenna remembered her mission. She looked up. “Captain Rivers….” Gods he could stop a stampede with his stare. Jenna dropped her focus to something safer and began to examine the decking under his feet. Hard metal, gray. Nothing special.
“Sir, I….” She swallowed, and her gaze drifted up, stopping on his midsection. He watched her, she could feel it, but Jenna couldn’t manage to bring her eyes up to his, no matter how hard she tried. So, she stared at his naked stomach, dying a little from embarrassment with each passing second.

What an uncomfortable predicament. She’d been ordered to find the explosives ordnance officer, and find him she had. For the last fifteen minutes, Jenna had searched the ship, from the galley to the indoor gym. The Gold Digger’s head had been her last stop, and her timing couldn’t have been worse. Tyson Rivers, the ordnance officer, had stepped out of the cleansing unit as she’d entered.

And she’d run head on into him.

No wonder he hadn’t been answering the com.

The edge of the towel rode just under his hips, dipping where he’d tucked it in. Jenna bit her lip. “Sir, I’ve been sent—”

“I’m up here.” A deep voice invaded her wet daydream.

Jenna sighed. She could listen to him all day.

Oh gods! She blinked. Up where? Her brain connected the verbal dots. What he’d said sank into the mushy gray matter between her ears, sending a jolt of horror rocketing through her body. Heat rushed to her face, and she lifted her chin to address the subject of every naughty dream she’d had on the ship since she’d boarded, and found herself without a coherent thing to say. Jenna opened her mouth, and all that came out was silence. What would be the appropriate thing to say in this situation?

Nice towel?

“Do you have a reason to be here, or do you make a habit of hanging out in the male showers?”



Bomb Voyage (#3)

Sam. Any other Sam would be male and not a big pain in the ass. When Captain Jayson Rivers requested a mechanic, the Trios Mechanic’s Union told him they’d send the best. So naturally he hadn’t expected a redheaded solar storm—a one-woman, wrecking force with freckles sprinkled over a cute little button nose. A woman who diligently worked at dismantling his ship, making his much needed shower impossible.

“Fuck!” She flung a part from under the boiler. It rolled across the deck and hit the toe of his boot.

Fuck? Did her eloquent choice of words mean he wasn’t getting his shower today? Time and patience weren’t on the agenda. He’d long since run out of both. “Is there a problem?” Jayson clamped his teeth to keep from growling.

“Working as fast as I can, sir,” her sweet voice called from under several tons of rugged metal.

Deceptive, her voice. The woman underneath might look compliant, but he’d quickly discovered the opposite five minutes after she’d stepped her pretty ass onboard his ship and handed him her bags like he was some kind of valet on a pleasure cruiser. Bossy, yes. On her own schedule—most definitely. Stubborn—yeah. Opinionated—when didn’t she have one? Bendable, flexible, compliant—hell no.

Hmm, hmmm, hm, hm….

And not gifted with musical talent.

Jayson braced for the inevitable. He knew what came next. She’d start to sing. Then the howling would commence, followed by several hours of strangled versions of what used to be some of his favorite songs. He’d endured enough. The woman had put him to the test for last two hours, and he wouldn’t abide another minute.

“Rose!”

The boiler room dropped into blessed silence. He sighed deep and leaned back against the iron monster, which, if she’d done her job, would have heated the water for the cleansing unit. Instead, if one jumped inside to wash up, they were hit with icy blasts of mist, and though mist didn’t sound like a big thing, when the temperature sat close to freezing, you didn’t want it anywhere near your naked skin.

With his ballistics officer and personal assistant away on their honeymoon, it didn’t take Jayson long to sink up to his pits in ordnance and Jenna’s administrative shit, doing the work of three people. Dealing with Tyson’s bomb inventory turned out to be a dirty job, and by the end of the week, he couldn’t stand his stench anymore. A good scrubbing was in order. Except he didn’t have any hot water.

The simple technology Sam tried to fix had existed for hundreds of years. Primitive, but most the time it ran, and in the past, if it went down, it only required a kick or two to bring it back online. The heating system had basic engineering behind it. The boiler captured cold air and extracted heat from it. Since the inside of the ship had live bodies, and the crew generated more heat than space, no matter how cold the air outside the ship, the interior would always be warmer. In addition, as long as the technology functioned normally, the boiler could extract the warmth and multiply it.

Then, if the piece of shit worked like it should, it would continue to recycle the air, drawing heat from it until the water in the boiler turned scalding hot. Man created the heat, the machine harvested it—simple enough technology.

So why couldn’t she get the blasted thing to run? Jayson resisted abusing it more, not sure the toe of his boot could handle it, but damn, any time now would be good. He’d lived with the smell of his own funk and ice-cold sponge baths for four days now. He refused to go another day. Hence the reason he didn’t want to leave engine room, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Hmmm, hummmn, hum, hummmmmm.

Jayson growled. Pretty soon she’d be in concert. He clamped his hands over his ears and not a second too soon.

“Baby, ooooh babbbbbeeee…oooooooooo babeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy.”

Didn’t she ever lose her voice?

Jayson cringed as the last high note shot up his spine—pretty damn sure it hit about five octaves too high on the musical scale. At least, if he remembered his songs correctly, it did—but he could be wrong.

Jayson tipped his head side to side, cracking his neck. Before the tall redhead had arrived on his ship, he hadn’t thought anyone could sing that bad, the kind of awful which cracked glass, made dogs howl and small children cry. Hell, it could bring a grown man to tears.

“Come over hereeeeeeeeee! Woooo, woooo hooooo.”

And then he’d met her. “Gods damn it, Rose! Enough.”

“Oooo, oooo, ooooo, oh.”

But she didn’t seem to hear him, or maybe she’d rendered herself deaf? Jayson looked down. Her boots poked out from under the heating system, and her toes tapped in cadence with whatever song she butchered and he tried his hardest to ignore. Attached to the boots was a pair of incredible long legs and a body which shouldn’t belong to a grease monkey. Ever since he saw those stilts, all he could think about was how they’d feel wrapped around him while he pounded into her.

“Did you want something, sir?” That sweet voice again. Yeah, she’d heard him all right.

“Work faster.” He shifted on his feet, trying to focus on something other than the bane of his existence and forbidden fruit. A captain didn’t touch his subordinates. He didn’t dream about them night and day, no matter how bad they sang, and he sure as hell didn’t get hard every time they passed him in the corridor and gave him a smile.

“Do you want me to work faster, or do you want it done right, sir?”

“I want to get into the cleansing unit sometime this week, and since this is the end of the week, today.”

“I’m not stopping you, sir.”

“I’m not taking a cold shower.” Though her suggestion did have merit, and the longer he stood there staring at her bare legs, the more sense it made.


Collateral Lives (#4) - Releases Friday, June 15th

Lesson one—don’t piss off your controller. Trouble staggered up from where Avery had thrown her, certain her backside would be black and blue in the morning. Rage burned through her, generated by Avery. It promised they’d have an intense workout—a very intense workout—and Avery had only just started.

“I said focus.”

She had the overwhelming urge to stick her tongue out, but the juvenile act would certainly be rewarded with another trip to the hard decking. She put her fists up. “I was focusing.”

“Not enough.”

“Stop that. I’m sick of you being in my head. For once, talk like a normal person.”

“I told you to use telepathy, and we’re not normal. Were linked and expected to use our link, and it means we train for it.”

“You fucking piss me off.” The band tightened around her head, dropping her to her knees and wrenching the rebellion right out of her.

“Don’t bring your filth to my temple,” he growled.

“Ease up.” Trouble placed a hand to her forehead and rubbed. “Please. I was kidding.” The pressure released. Avery had this thing about bodies and temples, and it hadn’t taken her long to learn he worshipped his. The man didn’t eat anything unhealthy, he exercised several times a day, and he didn’t like cursing. He wasn’t religious—or at least she hadn’t seen him practice any kind of faith. There were just some things he couldn’t abide, and cursing, she’d discovered, topped the list. She’d give anything to know the story behind his distaste of colorful language. A killer with manners—who’d have known?

“I told you, I don’t have a sense of humor.”

“I thought you said to use telepathy?” Trouble couldn’t help goading him. She’d take her digs when she could, but not without cost. Sometimes she counted it a major score—other times, she should have left well enough alone. This time, she felt lucky, or perhaps his anger fueled her recklessness.

“I’m running out of patience, Devoe. When I start talking, it’s time for you to shut up and focus.”

Trouble dropped to her side. “All right, I get it. I need to be a good little girl or you’re going to spank my a—”

“Don’t say it.” He pointed at her. The intensity in his eyes reminded her of a caged predator at a zoo, daring someone to remove the barrier. Trouble clamped her mouth shut, knowing if she pushed it any further, she’d have a miserable day. Avery would make sure she paid for her attitude with one bitch of a migraine, and it wouldn’t be the only reward for her misbehavior. And oh, the many ways he could make her pay. Who thought EOD training would include long-distance running, which he claimed would build her endurance, enabling her to work on planets with a weak atmosphere or strong gravity. And then there was the martial arts, bruised backsides, and bloody lips and noses. Avery took it to the extreme and gave her the same treatment her enemy would—or so he claimed, since EOD was considered a primary target for anyone who didn’t want their bomb disarmed. And her favorite new skill—telepathy, designed to make her insane.

“It won’t make you insane if you learn how to use it, and the only way you’re going to learn, is to use it.

“Oh, you read thoughts, too. Swell. How come I didn’t see it in the Welcome to Hell brochure?”

“I don’t have to read your thoughts when you project them at me. Conversation—over. Focus.”

“Aye, sir.” Crushing pressure filled her head, and she rolled to her hands and knees, using all her willpower to avoid crying out. Okay, she shouldn’t have pushed. Sometimes her mouth—brain—ran away from her.

“Get up.”

Trouble stood and braced her hands on her knees, doing her best to catch her breath.

“Put up your guard.” Back to verbal commands.

Fantastic. What was it he’d said? When he started talking, it was time for her to shut up and do what he told her? Prick. She lifted her chin and glared at the bane of her existence. He caught her with a roundhouse kick to her jaw, sending her flying back to the hard floor with a loud oomph. Trouble blinked and stared at the ceiling, stunned, with little stars circling her head. The room did the wave, and she blinked again, bringing it back into focus. Ouch. She reached up and rubbed her jaw. Another bruise to go with the three dozen he’d already given her. Good thing she already had purple skin. Bastard.

She turned her head, and Avery lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling as she had been, also rubbing his jaw. Not without cost. Every lesson was a lesson for Avery, too. Trouble smiled. Served him right. Maybe she should punch herself in the lip.

“How’d that feel, big guy?”

“Wonderful.” He drew his knees to his chest and snapped to his feet. Avery cocked his head from side to side, cracking his neck. To look at him, one wouldn’t even know he’d been down and stunned moments before.

“Get up.”

“Can we give it a break and practice basket weaving or something?”

“Get up.”

She did as ordered but took her time getting there. “I hate you.”

“Okay. Now put some of it into your attack and quit being a sissy.”

“First, tell me why we have to be linked if it makes us so vulnerable?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Don’t you get it? It’s the League’s way of ensuring our cooperation. You’re linked to me because of your crime—running. I’m linked to you because of my crime—mutiny. They designed our punishment to fit the offense. You can’t run no matter how bad you want, and if I don’t keep you alive and under control, the orders handed down to me, I die. So suck it up, princess, and put your guard up. This is going to hurt me as much as it does you.”


Rebel Souls (#5)

This would be the only excuse the League needed to finish off the Rebels and bring their form of peace back to the galaxy. They always had a ship sitting outside every safe harbor, in this case, four, waiting for someone to slip up and give them a chance to take into custody any they considered revolutionaries.

The League restricted all traffic to and from the planet the metal was harvested from. What she’d hauled into Trios Port space was the last shipment smuggled out before the Regulators sealed the planet off tighter than a miser’s asshole. They didn’t want it out in the galaxy and were determined to take it upon themselves to police space. Both because of an embargo against the government of the mined planet for humanoid rights violations, and the unstable nature of the byproduct left after smelting, which could be used to create planet-crushing weapons and fuel for smugglers. Part of her believed the League wanted to keep the energy source for themselves. Who wouldn’t? With it, they could control most of the galaxy.

To get caught in League space with even one ounce of the substance would ensure twenty to life. Anything more and you were walking the proverbial plank, not to mention that the Rebels who took harbor on the planet to which you traveled would no longer be safe. Nobody wanted the unrefined metal or fuel byproduct on their world, or the people responsible for it. Ava had informed them she’d only do it once. She didn’t like moving the dangerous element around the chessboard and had only agreed because she owed friends a favor.

Some favor.

The skin of the Avira, her vessel, consisted of a little over fifty tons of the material. Add all that up and a backward ride, blind through a wormhole, looked pretty damned good.

She glanced down at the screen. A delay would help while she disengaged the rear engines and put the front thrusters online, but Uncle Theo was right, she needed to open the link. So she’d drag out the conversation until she had the engines fully engaged.

Ava lowered the zipper on her top, released her braid, and did a quick finger comb of the dark tresses she’d inherited from her Rebel father. One deep breath and she initiated the link. Ava gasped. “Oh damn.” The man on the screen before her fit her every fantasy and nightmare. Nice to look at with his earthy-brown hair, square jaw, and intense green eyes, but Ava knew appearances could be deceiving. Handsome or not, the man before her was dangerous, more trouble than she needed and the sooner she got out of his line of sight, the better.

“Your ship is out of compliance with regulation three-two-three of the Galactic Trade Agreement.” And he had to quote the damned regs in his smoking League uniform, giving her a visual feast of the forbidden, tempting her to throw her hands up and let him arrest her. Gods, it had been a long time since she’d seen a man like that. “And League regulation one-two-one.”

She blinked and snapped back to reality. “How’s that?” Ava disconnected the rear engines and flipped the control to the bow. She didn’t need to ask. She only did it to buy a little buy more time. Ava knew why she’d drawn the Regulator’s attention, but if she could delay a couple minutes, the Avira’s engines would be powered up, and they’d be gone before he could fire his cannons. “We’re not carrying anything in our hold that’s illegal. The ship is empty and headed for port for routine maintenance.” And to drop off an illegal load of ore. “We’re also not registered under League jurisdiction and therefore not subject to your Galactic Trade Agreement. Until you have the permission of the Trios Port government, you’ve no authority to detain us. Stand down and let us pass, Captain.”

What she’d said was a complete mind-fuck, and he knew it. The first clue, the Avira’s matte black paint job with a lack of registration, and it sure as the gods’ pit wasn’t because they were a Terran relief ship, the only vessel allowed to frequent space without registration. One glance at her and proved they weren’t on a mission of humanity, spreading love and peace, making amends for the destruction of their world.

Shaved heads and flagellation just weren’t her thing.

Neither was getting blown into space dust.

The paint covered any identifying mark, registering the Avira as a legally licensed freighter. Even if it didn’t, they were flying in League space, which gave him the right to search and seize. The League had an agreement with the Trios Port government, to protect their interests, more to a point, keep the port clear of criminals and those who would use the planet as an outpost for smuggling activities. The Avira might as well have been flying a Jolly Roger for all the laws they broke.

“Cut your engines and prepare your ship to be boarded.”

Yeah, like I’ll let that happen.

There were a lot of problems with that, the biggest being her uncle, catching a ride home. He’d retired a year ago and had gotten out of the family business. The League didn’t care. They were still jonesing to execute him for multiple crimes. She’d already lost her mother and father to the League’s hands—no way would she lose her uncle.

The engine-ready light on her panel illuminated, and she smiled. “Not that I wouldn’t like you to board,” she said as she eyed him with sincere appreciation. “I’ve got a sick grandmother at home and a basket of goodies to bring to her. Can I take a rain check on that, muffin?”

His expression didn’t change. Typical League officer. A regular by-the-regulation-never-break-or-stretch-the-rules kind of guy. So serious. In some areas of the galaxy, her looks got her out of a lot of trouble, but not here and not with him. What a waste of a dropped zipper. He hadn’t appeared to even take a peek. Maybe a little more incentive? She leaned forward giving him a great cleavage shot.

“Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. We need to inspect your goodies.”

Ava sat back, crossed her arms, and raised a brow. “Isn’t that third date stuff?” didn’t, they were flying in League space, which gave him the right to search and seize. The League had an agreement with the Trios Port government, to protect their interests, more to a point, keep the port clear of criminals and those who would use the planet as an outpost for smuggling activities. The Avira might as well have been flying a Jolly Roger for all the laws they broke.

“Cut your engines and prepare your ship to be boarded.”

Yeah, like I’ll let that happen.

There were a lot of problems with that, the biggest being her uncle, catching a ride home. He’d retired a year ago and had gotten out of the family business. The League didn’t care. They were still jonesing to execute him for multiple crimes. She’d already lost her mother and father to the League’s hands—no way would she lose her uncle.

The engine-ready light on her panel illuminated, and she smiled. “Not that I wouldn’t like you to board,” she said as she eyed him with sincere appreciation. “I’ve got a sick grandmother at home and a basket of goodies to bring to her. Can I take a rain check on that, muffin?”

His expression didn’t change. Typical League officer. A regular by-the-regulation-never-break-or-stretch-the-rules kind of guy. So serious. In some areas of the galaxy, her looks got her out of a lot of trouble, but not here and not with him. What a waste of a dropped zipper. He hadn’t appeared to even take a peek. Maybe a little more incentive? She leaned forward giving him a great cleavage shot.

“Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. We need to inspect your goodies.”

Ava sat back, crossed her arms, and raised a brow. “Isn’t that third date stuff?”

Sunday, May 20, 2018

Lea Bronsen is back with a new book.

Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog! I got the idea for this story after watching a video of French “globe cooker” Fred Chesneau visiting nomads in the Moroccan desert. They generously shared their food, home, and wisdom with a stranger, and I thought it would be cool to write about a female rally driver having the same experience – but with more spice! A Thorned Rose in the Sand is set in the beautiful, quiet dunes of western Sahara where the sun is so hot you can’t walk barefooted and you could go miles and miles without seeing a single soul. In this story, you’ll meet a badass 450cc rally motorcycle, an opiniated but gentle dromedary, and two highly strong-willed young persons from opposite sides of the planet who get off to a bad start then can’t keep their hands off each other 😊  
A Thorned Rose_banner.jpg
  When life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a motorcycle rally across Morocco. But the real excitement is found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert. After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. He dreams of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty biker stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.  

Available from

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A Thorned Rose in the Sand-3D-eReader
 

Excerpt

The girl screamed behind him. “Eeeeee!” Too hard to resist. Until now, Ragab had had a difficult time respecting her privacy, but surely, a scream called for attention. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he didn’t check on a woman in distress? He spun and found her kneeling on her jacket, nude and wet, arms outstretched in shock. He bit down a laugh. Yes, the deep well water was cold, but one got used to it, and in the extreme heat of the desert, it was a blessing. She turned, caught him staring, and even though he couldn’t see anything inappropriate, she hurried to cover her breasts and pubic area. “Look away!” she shouted, voice panicky. The laugh bubbled inside him, but he obediently turned back to the motorcycle—then stood in such a way he could see her reflection in one of the side mirrors. Oh, it was like watching a porn scene. Her long, red curls hung wild over her back and round, white butt cheeks. Every time she moved, a portion of her breasts appeared in the space between her ribs and arms. Such perfect feminine curves, all over. Imagine if he saw the front… Blood rushed to his groin. Stiffening, bothered, he tore from the sight, walked over to the well, and leaned against its waist-high wall, hoping the hardness of the bricks and coolness from the water below would temper his arousal before it became a full-blown erection. So silent… He strained to hear. Splashes. Muffled squeals. More splashes. He turned slowly and stole a glance from the corner of his eye. She washed her panties and black top in the bucket and leaned forward to spread them in the sun. Her position exposed the dark pink lips of her sex, from the tiny hole in her butt to the end of her slit, where her clitoris hid. Ooh! Shocked to his core, he turned back and groaned low, his cock hardening again. He closed his eyes, drew long, slow breaths to calm the painful throbbing and counted minutes, trying to think of something else. His dromedary, for example. It would be cool to show her how to ride it. What if he rode another one, and they both galloped on the dunes together, she laughing, ecstatic… Then they’d roll in the sand, and he would tease her thighs apart and slide his hungry hardness into her dark pink lips, to the wet bottom of her. Oh, yes. She called, “Ready?” He risked a glance in her direction. Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean—she strolled to the motorcycle, carrying a bag and her clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tanks, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor. Not once looking at him.  

About the author

Lea Bronsen Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.
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Sunday, October 29, 2017

Blown Away is Back!

I'm super excited to announce the first book in my Blown Away series is back and up for preorder now.


One man and one woman, both on a collision course with a mad bomber and the past.
Trios Space Port City is a busy place. MacKay and Boomer must stop a bomber before he strikes again, this time closer to home. Failure is not an option. Success means they get to live another day. But more than the danger is heating up. Their attraction has grown to explosive levels, and it’s become a major distraction. Not good when they need to keep their heads.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Lea Bronson is here today talking about her latest book, Fiery


fiery-1016_ebook-cover

Hi, and thank you for hosting my new dark romantic suspense!
Fiery 10-16 is a scorching firefighter story of desire, abuse, and bravery.
 
  Runo Wiggins is a scarred man, the wounds etched into his psyche deeper than those on his skin. But he loves his job: fighting fires helps reenact his survival of a house fire as a teen, one that killed his mother and brutal stepfather. Dawn Caravello is married to a psychotic drunk. She can take his beatings as long as he doesn't touch their children, and she'll do anything to put food on the table, even if it means stealing from the town hero. When Runo meets the fiery Dawn, sparks fly. But he suspects she is victim of the same abuse as his mother was. As day turns to night, the past and the present blend in an exhausting, nerve-wrecking chase to prevent another death.  

Excerpt:

Dawn's eyes shimmered with a mix of stubborn pride and extreme sadness. They seemed to be made of molten brown stone. Runo had never seen eyes like these. So vibrant, saying so many things. They revealed her life, her endurance, her dreams, her combats, her despair. And she was still so young. While he stared, she leaned forward and kissed him, an act a whole lot more intimate than he was comfortable with. A short, hard peck, a statement. Not the tender gesture a kiss was supposed to be, but one telling him her gratitude as well as her dignity. She thanked him, but was going to go back to her life and continue fighting. He stood shocked, his whole body rigid, didn’t know what to do. She, such a small woman thing a whole head shorter, shook him, a giant of muscle and stupid testosterones inside a hard shell. He would definitely take care of Dawn and her kids. Any way possible. Alert the authorities and make sure they got the protection they desperately needed. She stepped backward, her features softening, and turned on her heel. Not so fast. He cleared his throat and called, lifting a weak hand. “Hey, wait!” His heart hammered in his chest, blood pulsed in his ears. She turned. “What?” “Promise to be good. Promise it’s the last time you do it.” “Do what?” Her eyes gleamed with humor. “Kiss you?” In the midst of this emotional turmoil, she found the strength to tease. “Steal.” And lie. She pursed her lips, looking like a disappointed little girl. Maybe she still was a child inside. A child taking care of children. A child beaten savagely. He swallowed. “Promise.” After several long seconds, she nodded. But her gaze told a different truth. Liar.  

Links:

Add the book to your Goodreads list!
 

About Lea Bronsen:

1090885_627512094051465_3186017879616222277_o
I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.
I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:
 

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

He Sphinx I'm Sexy Releases 04/04/2017

My second story in the 1Night Stand series with Decadent Publishing was called This Endris Night.
For several years, readers have asked me to write Lucas’s story. What happened to by bad boy hunter? Did he have a match out there?

This Endris Night on sale at Amazon for $.99.


The answer is yes. In He Sphinx I’m Sexy, you will meet the one woman who can bring Lucas Saar to his knees.


Blurb:

One night. One party of a lifetime. One deadly secret that could end it all.

All hybrids must die.

Not your average alien visitor, Lucas Saar has lived on earth for years, and there is only one reason he relocated to the green planet, to hunt down hybrids. These half-Terran, half-Saarian men and women could expose the existence of his world and his people, something that must never happen. He’s never failed a mission until Alaska, a year before, and now he’s determined to get back in his leader’s good graces by taking down a woman he’s tracked halfway across the globe. When he discovers his target has signed up for the same dating service he tried to use in Alaska, he decides to use it again as cover to get closer to his prey. After all, the archeologist isn’t hard to look at, and there is something about her he can’t resist. Too bad he has to kill her when the date is over.

No more dating within my profession.

Doctor Nadia Crane is in Egypt, guiding her final class through a dig. She’s had bad luck with men and worse with her health. After a recent physical, her physician has determined her cells are mutating and she could be dying. Nadia signs up for Madam Eve’s 1Night Stand service, in hopes she may experience one night of bliss before she dies. A prearranged evening might get her what she desires, except, Lucas Saar isn’t what she asked for on her application. He’s an archeologist, and exactly the kind of man she didn’t want to date. Worse, her gut is sending up all kinds of red flags. Now Doctor Nadia Crane isn’t sure if she should jump him or dump him. Only one night will tell.

Excerpt:

“What the hell are you getting at, Lucas?”

“You’re not from Earth. You’re Saarian.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, not crazy.” He let the color of his eyes shift from fiery topaz, to green, bright violet, and back to amber. “And you are one of us. More to the point….” He ran his hand up and down her arm. “Mine.” No, he’d never been one to leash his dominant nature. She’d have to learn to deal with it—courtship or not.

“Yours?”

“Mine.” He gave her a satisfied smile.

“You lied to me about being my replacement. Who the hell are you really?”

“Lucas Saar, a Saarian tracker, and you, Miss Crane, are my mate.”

“Huh.” Nadia took the opportunity to ram her knee into his testicles, and, like any other male with a package in the south, he dropped to the floor, completely incapacitated. “Help!” She ran for the elevator. Lucas lifted his head from the tile. Help? Was she fucking kidding? His eyes started to water, and even though she’d put him in a bad position and a great deal of pain, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Okay, so she’d thrown down the gauntlet. Nothing like a little pursuit to get the blood pumping. Let the hunt begin.

Buy Links:


Kindle
BookStrand
Smashwords

About the Author:

D. L. Jackson is a writer of urban fantasy, science fiction, military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can. When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers.

www.AuthorDLJackson.com

http://backwardmomentum.blogspot.com/

Monday, January 23, 2017

Laura Garland is visiting today with her newest release, Lighting His Fire.

Lighting His Fire
Dallas Fire & Rescue Kindle Worlds Novella


Brigit MacKay fights fires from the air. Flying her helicopter to save lives and land rules her mind and heart. It’s all she’s ever dreamed of doing. But when she spots a body through the smoke haze, her life takes a turn she never expected.

Relationships have left Carter Kohl with a broken heart. Wary of women, he keeps things light. No-strings sex works fine for him. It’s not like he feels any connection anyway. Not until he meets a sexy helicopter pilot who sparks his interest.

Attraction blazes but Carter’s secrets threaten to destroy the tenuous relationship they’ve built. He wrestles with the fact that Brigit has accomplished what he believed impossible—lighting his fire. Can he risk his heart and trust her with the truth?


EXCERPT:
Twenty minutes later, Brigit came to a stop in front of Carter’s cabin and shut off the Jeep’s engine. “Here we are.”
He turned toward her. “Come in with me.”

Through the windshield, she eyed the moonlit cabin. A soft glow illuminated the curtains covering the windows from inside.

He trailed a finger down her arm, leaving a line of hot chills racing across her skin. “I’ll reheat our meal, or put it in the fridge, or make some coffee.”

“Sure.” She opened her door. “Coffee might be good.”

Carter joined her in front of the Jeep. Heat rolled off his tall, muscular frame, enveloping her as he walked with her to the cabin and onto the porch, stopping at the door. Who am I kidding? I don’t want coffee. I want him. Just being near him caused her body to react—her nipples tightened in anticipation of his touch, and her damp panties had rubbed in the most delicious way with each step they’d taken.

Keys appeared in his hand as if by magic, and he unlocked the door. He pushed it open, allowing her to enter first.

She paused just inside where the foyer opened onto the dining area and kitchen. Beyond that lay a nice-sized living room with a vaulted ceiling. And the hallway at the back probably led to a couple of bedrooms and bathrooms.

He strode past her to the kitchen, tucking their food into the refrigerator, then returned to stand in front of her. He moved closer, his broad chest inches from her breasts. His dark-brown stare sent her heart galloping.

“Brigit.” His deep jagged voice spoke of desire and lust and intent. Matching the way he looked at her. The way his body leaned toward hers. The way everything about him concentrated on her.

She shivered. Caught in his intense gaze, she lifted her chin and licked her lips. His focus dipped, following her nervous action, then shifted to her eyes again. “Carter.”

Reaching up, he tucked her hair behind her ear then grazed his knuckles along her jaw. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Her breath hitched. “Okay.”

About L.J. Garland

Though born and raised in the south, L.J. Garland has lived on both the east and west coasts. She adores traveling, the latest adventures added to her Bucket List: Machu Pichu and Australia’s Rainforest and Great Barrier Reef.

Married to her best friend for over twenty-five years, she spends her time home schooling three rambunctious boys, editing in the epub industry, and writing stories that she hopes catches her readers’ imaginations as much as the characters and plotlines captivate her. In her spare time (what there is of it LOL), she has a multitude of hobbies, including building archery equipment from scratch and creating stained glass. She has a passion for anything that goes Boom!…from fireworks to high-powered combat rifles…it’s all good. She and her husband are both rated helicopter pilots and spent their 10th anniversary flying cross-country from east to west coast—an adventure she highly recommends.

L.J. loves hearing from her readers! You can contact her at: LJGarland.author@gmail.com

You can also find her here:
Twitter: @LJ_Garland1


Read all of the MacKay Destiny Stories


Saturday, September 24, 2016

Please welcome guest Lea Bronson


thehotterthelove

Hi and thank you so much for hosting the third and last book of the Hot Model Mine trilogy!
 
  After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea's sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons' girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea's young and very handsome fiancĂ©... On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher's offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new "Cover Photo of the Year". Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?  

Excerpt

We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space. Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object.

 The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere. Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction. I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame.

Jekaterina? My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated. Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery. I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them.

He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again? I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet. She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove. Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked.

He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid. I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?” “Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable. My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us?

 Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved.

 Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?”
I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.”

 She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?” 

“At an author conference.” Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.”

 “Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it.

“Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse?

She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?”

Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.  

Book trailer

[youtube=https://youtu.be/ho7fOUvnFfw]
 

Book links

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Bookstrand / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / All Romance eBooks / Goodreads / Pinterest  

About the other books in the series

hotmodelmine__64063
The Perfect Shoot (book #1) When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits… Get The Perfect Shoot at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-perfect-shoot-by-lea-bronsen/

Mine to Love (book #2) The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future? Get Mine to Love at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/mine-to-love-by-lea-bronsen/  

About the author

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on: Website / Lea's Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon  

Please welcome guest Lea Bronson


thehotterthelove

Hi and thank you so much for hosting the third and last book of the Hot Model Mine trilogy!  
  After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea's sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons' girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea's young and very handsome fiancĂ©... On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher's offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new "Cover Photo of the Year". Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?  

Excerpt

We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space. Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object. The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere. Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction. I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame. Jekaterina? My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated. Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery. I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them. He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again? I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet. She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove. Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked. He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid. I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?” “Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable. My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us? Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved. Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?” I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.” She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?” “At an author conference.” Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.” “Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it. “Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse? She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?” Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.  

Book trailer

[youtube=https://youtu.be/ho7fOUvnFfw]
 

Book links

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Bookstrand / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / All Romance eBooks / Goodreads / Pinterest  

About the other books in the series

hotmodelmine__64063
The Perfect Shoot (book #1) When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits… Get The Perfect Shoot at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-perfect-shoot-by-lea-bronsen/

Mine to Love (book #2) The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future? Get Mine to Love at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/mine-to-love-by-lea-bronsen/  

About the author

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on: Website / Lea's Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon  

Please welcome guest Lea Bronson


thehotterthelove

Hi and thank you so much for hosting the third and last book of the Hot Model Mine trilogy!  
  After sexy cover model Yushka proposed, life is more turbulent than ever for erotic romance author Andrea. He is expecting a baby with his ex-girlfriend, who says she doesn’t want to keep it. How will Andrea's sons take upcoming life changes? To make things more complicated, her ex goes to great lengths to coax her back, and one of her sons' girlfriend is a tad too interested in Andrea's young and very handsome fiancĂ©... On the writing front, Andrea anxiously awaits news on her latest manuscript submission, and she has to decide whether to accept her publisher's offer to model in a sexy photo shoot—the same kind she and Yushka did in Cannes—in the hopes of making a new "Cover Photo of the Year". Considering the erotic poses the previous photographer demanded, can Andrea model with another guy other than Yushka?  

Excerpt

We enter a hall so big the tiniest sound echoes. It’s quite humbling. I shrink in my clothes and barely dare to breathe. Dark wood furniture towers over us, with a mix of contradictory smells—orchid-scented sanitizer and old dust—filling the space. Shoes clamping on a hardwood floor, we follow the tall, silver-haired man into a living room with exquisite furniture, gold-framed mirrors, and classic paintings on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains adorn the windows, and an impressive floor-to-ceiling library on one side has to contain literary curiosities from every part of the world. Marveling, I study each magnificent object. The man stops and glares across the room, his facial expression clearly one of annoyance. What an oppressive atmosphere. Yushka stands beside him and stares in the same direction. I follow their gaze. A young and strikingly beautiful woman is half-seated on a green velvet couch with her legs folded underneath her. Dark doe eyes and pink lips stand out in a pale, oval face. A waterfall of rich, glowing auburn-colored hair contrasts with her white dress. She looks cast in a scene from the Russian classic Doctor Zhivago. Beneath full breasts, a pregnant belly protrudes, far too round and big for her frail frame. Jekaterina? My chest tightens. The more I look at her, the more her beauty takes my breath away. She’s the woman Yushka was in love with last year. The one he slept with and impregnated. Her gaze is riveted on him, the recognition and warmth fiery. I shoot him a glance. His features are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his reaction, but he doesn’t take his gaze off her. This is exactly what I feared. They’ve had feelings for each other. Maybe meeting now will revive them. He has fallen for her once, so why would he not fall for her again? I feel bad, nauseous, want to get out of here. But she’s carrying the baby girl I’m going to call mine very soon. I need to overcome my unease. Hopefully, once the formalities are done, this is the only time we’ll have to meet. She tells him a few words in Russian, her voice the cooing of a turtledove. Yushka replies calmly, but his throat sounds choked. He grabs my hand, palm sweaty, and leads me to a sofa opposite hers. His discomfort is more than clear in his features. He tears his gaze from her and searches me, his expression vibrating with an intensity I seldom see. It hits me—he’s afraid. I squeeze his hand. “Is everything okay?” “Yes,” he replies instantly, but his tension is palpable. My chest tightens to a painful level. What is he so nervous about? From his interaction with Jekaterina, this has nothing to do with the baby. It’s about them, their relationship, and me. Is he afraid he’ll have to choose between us? Goodness, I’m delirious. I sit very still, take small, shallow breaths, and pray for everything to be all right. Then bolt out of this house after the arrangements are resolved. Jekaterina addresses me, her dark pupils glimmering. “You’re very beautiful. Are you a model, too?” I’m as taken aback by her speaking a fluent English as I am by her compliment, and need a few seconds to shake myself. “Um, no, I’m not.” She raises a brow. “That’s funny. I would’ve sworn you were a model. So how did you two meet?” “At an author conference.” Yushka clears his throat. “Andrea writes books, and I’m featured on the cover of her last one.” “Oh, how exciting.” Her lips curve upward. I can’t decide whether it’s a genuine smile or she’s faking it. “Yes,” he continues. “That’s why we … uh … were bound to meet. They had organized a Meet-and-Greet for authors and cover models of their books.” Why does he sound like he’s trying to make an excuse? She flutters her long lashes at me. “What kind of books do you write?” Before I can answer, her father walks over to a cabinet and picks up a bunch of papers. “All right, enough chit-chat.” His voice booms like thunder.  

Book trailer

[youtube=https://youtu.be/ho7fOUvnFfw]
 

Book links

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Bookstrand / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / All Romance eBooks / Goodreads / Pinterest  

About the other books in the series

hotmodelmine__64063
The Perfect Shoot (book #1) When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for THE cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits… Get The Perfect Shoot at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-perfect-shoot-by-lea-bronsen/  

Mine to Love (book #2) The writing conference in sunny Cannes was fantastical, a dream. Back at home, reality catches up with author Andrea Johnson and the sexy cover model of her book, Yushka. With tough working schedules, challenging family relations, and seductive temptation from all sides, the couple’s explosive romance is put to the test. Will their love be strong enough to have a future? Get Mine to Love at http://www.evernightpublishing.com/mine-to-love-by-lea-bronsen/  

About the author

I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, suspense romance, and erotic dark/contemporary romance. I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on: Website / Lea's Crazy Nights Blog / Facebook profile / Facebook page / Twitter / Amazon