Aug 24, 2020 | August 2020, Avery Flynn, Blog, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find EXCLUSIVE content from Authors who have books releasing in the near future or just want to share a peek.
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Today you’ll find an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from The Wedding Date Disaster by USA Today Bestselling Author Avery Flynn to jump start your week! This book releases tomorrow, August, 25th so one-click your copy now and get ready for more shenanigans and lots of fun.
Will should have agreed to driving back to the ranch tonight.
Then he wouldn’t be wearing a ridiculously small T-shirt, holding Hadley in his arms, and swaying to “Lay, Lady, Lay” by Bob Dylan in the middle of a geriatric dance party. Her arms rested on his shoulders, her fingers twined loosely behind his neck, while his fingertips lay lightly on the small of her back.
Feeling her move against him as Dylan sang made it hard to remember why he was here in the first place. Other dancers around them chatted and smiled while they glided around the floor. Not them. They were like those big statues on Easter Island, silent and unsmiling.
It wasn’t suspicious at all.
He dipped his head down, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “If you don’t at least pretend to be having fun, everyone is going to know that this whole thing is fake.”
“Oh really?” She tensed in his arms. “I hadn’t considered that at all.”
“So what are you going to do about it?” he asked as he spun them through the crowded dance floor.
Hadley lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Develop a headache that means I have to go to bed.”
The mention of the word “bed” filled his brain with enough bad ideas to make him miss the beat. She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in question, and the futility of the situation hit him hard. Despite it all, he wanted Hadley. Why? Because he was the king of fucking bad ideas at the moment.
“Oh yeah,” he said, laying on the sarcasm thick. “That won’t be weird at all.”
“Why are you like this?” She let out a huff of frustration. “From the day Web introduced us, you’ve either ignored me or insulted me. And don’t throw that gold-digger ridiculousness at me again. We both know that’s not really it.”
The only answer he had to that was too close to the truth to be comfortable, which was exactly why he kept his mouth shut. It didn’t help, though, because with each inhale, he got the scent of the daisies in her hair and a hint of something sharper, much like the woman herself—delicate on the outside with an inner mettle that everyone else seemed to overlook.
But not him. He’d noticed it from the beginning, as obvious as a flash in the dark.
Books I Love A Latte participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchase. If you click on the link and purchase the featured book and/or anything else during that shopping session, Books I Love A Latte will receive a small percentage between 2-6%. Any profit earned from this transaction is given directly back to readers via giveaways (gift cards, books, etc.) Thank you in advance.
Avery Flynn: USA Today bestselling romance author Avery Flynn has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip.
She fell in love with romance while reading Johanna Lindsey’s Mallory books. It wasn’t long before Avery had read through all the romance offerings at her local library. Needing a romance fix, she turned to Harlequin’s four books a month home delivery service to ease the withdrawal symptoms. That worked for a short time, but it wasn’t long before the local book stores’ staffs knew her by name.
Avery was a reader before she was a writer and hopes to always be both. She loves to write about smartass alpha heroes who are as good with a quip as they are with their *ahem* other God-given talents. Her heroines are feisty, fierce and fantastic. Brainy and brave, these ladies know how to stand on their own two feet and knock the bad guys off theirs.
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Apr 25, 2020 | April 2020, Blog, Katee Robert, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find an exclusive excerpt from the new release Your Dad Will Do (A Touch of Taboo Book 1) by Katee Robert.
Tomorrow be sure to stop by as Romance Author Katee Robert joins me here on the blog for Coffee With. Grab a cuppa and discover a few fun and tasty tidbits.
How does one go about seducing their almost-father-in-law? I really, truly do not recommend doing an internet search. The results are heavy on porn and light on answers. In the end, I’m left to my own devices.
That’s how I end up on his front porch in a short black dress and thigh-highs in the middle of January, well after the polite hours of visiting. I’m shaking as I knock on the door, and it’s not purely because the icy wind makes my clothing feel like a laughable barrier.
Despite the late hour, he’s awake. My breath catches in my throat as the door opens to reveal him. Shane. The man who, up until a few days ago, was supposed to be my father-in-law. Funny how quickly things change when you least expect it. Or not so funny at all. I sure as hell don’t feel like laughing.
He fills the doorway, a large man with broad shoulders, big hands, and a smattering of salt and pepper in his hair. He’s in his late forties, some twenty-ish years older than me. Shane frowns as recognition slips over his handsome face. “Lily? What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping we could talk.” I have to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Maybe I should have gone with the trench coat route. At least then I’d have a coat.
To his credit, Shane doesn’t make me wait. He moves out of the way and holds the door open so I can walk past him. The first blast of warmth makes me shiver again. Maybe if I hadn’t stood out there for so long, gathering my courage, I wouldn’t be so cold now.
“What did he do?”
I blink and stop trying to rub feeling back into my fingertips. “Excuse me?”
“My asshole son. What’s he done now?” He catches my hand and lifts it between us. My ring finger is markedly empty. Shane skates his thumb across the bare skin, still frowning. Now my shivers have very little to do with temperature and everything to do with desire.
It’s yet another indication of the many ways that my relationship with Max wasn’t operating on all cylinders. His freaking father can do more with a single swipe of his thumb than Max was ever interested in doing with his entire body. Then again, Max and I only ever had polite, friendly sex—which was not what I found him doing with his secretary when I showed up unexpectedly at his office. It’s not what I suspect he was doing with the others I suspect came before her.
I don’t want to get into it right now. I’ve already had four days of tears and raging with my girlfriends, but if I start talking about how I found Max f&*king his secretary like the biggest goddamn cliché in existence, I’m going to start crying again.
That’s not why I’m here.
I’m here for revenge—and maybe a little pleasure, too, though the pleasure rates a distant second in priorities.
“Shane.” I say his name slowly. In all the time I dated Max, I called him Mr. Alby. A necessary distance between us, a reminder of what he was to me—only ever my boyfriend’s father. I rip down that distance now and stare up at him, letting him see the pent up emotions I’ve spent two long years ignoring and denying.
I’ve spent two long years ignoring a whole lot.
Shane’s dark eyes go wide and then hot before he shutters his response, locking himself up tight. But, almost as if he can’t resist, he swipes the pad of his thumb over my bare ring finger again. “Tell me what happened.”
“We’re over.” My voice catches, and I hate that it catches. “No going back, no crossing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars. Really, really over.”
He nods slowly and then gives my hand a squeeze. “Sounds like you could use a drink.”
“I could use about ten, but one’s a good place to start.” At least he isn’t kicking me out. That’s a good sign, right? I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he opens the liquor cabinet and picks through the bottles.
He barely glances at me. “Vodka, right?”
“Yes.” Of course he remembers my drink. I bet, if pressed, he also remembers my birthday and a whole host of other details that slip past most people, including my ex.
But then, Shane isn’t most people.
Heat melts into my bones as he methodically puts together a drink for each of us. I don’t know what to do with my hands once I don’t need them for warmth, and the coziness of the temperature is a vivid reminder of just how little I’m wearing. My dress is barely long enough to cover the tops of my thigh-highs and while I’m wearing a garter belt, I have nothing else on beneath the thin fabric of the dress. I’m dressed slutty and downright scandalous and Shane has barely looked at me since I walked through the door.
That won’t do. That won’t do at all.
He finishes with the drinks and I gather what’s left of my courage and close the distance between us, sliding between him and the counter to reach for the glass. Just like that, he’s at my back, his hips against my ass. “Thank you,” I say over my shoulder.
He inhales sharply, but doesn’t move back. “What are you doing, Lily?”
His lack of retreat gives me a little more strength. Just enough to sip the drink and then turn slowly to face him. I have to lean back over the counter to meet his gaze, and a thrill goes through me as he forces me to make the adjustments. He might as well be made from stone. I tip my chin up. “I have a question.”
“Ask it.”
“Last summer, you and Max were supposed to be working, so I was here at the pool.” I can barely catch my breath. “No one was around so I didn’t bother with a suit.”
“Mmm.” The barely banked heat in his gaze is back, flaring hotter by the second. He still hasn’t moved, either to press against me or to retreat. “That’s not a question.”
I lick my lips. “It felt wicked to be out there naked, knowing I was in your house even if you weren’t here. I…” This part’s harder, but his nearness gives me a boost of bravado. “I started touching myself. I felt like such a little slut, but that made it hotter.”
He’s breathing harder now, and he reaches around me to grasp the counter on either side of my hips. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s not anything you don’t already know,” I whisper. “You were upstairs. I saw you watch me through the master window.”
Get your copy here:
Books I Love A Latte participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchase. If you click on the link and purchase the featured book and/or anything else during that shopping session, Books I Love A Latte will receive a small percentage between 2-6%. Any profit earned from this transaction is given directly back to readers via giveaways (gift cards, books, etc.) Thank you in advance.
Thank you in advance for your continued support.
Katee Robert is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Entertainment Weekly calls her writing “unspeakably hot.” Her books have sold over a million copies. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, children, a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and two Great Danes who think they’re lap dogs.
Website: www.kateerobert.com
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Feb 1, 2020 | Blog, February 2020, Naima Simone, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find an excerpt from Blame It On The Billionaire by Naima Simone. Happy Book Birthday Naima!
“Why didn’t you want me to know your name?” Grayson finally asked, casting aside the socially acceptable tact that had been drilled into him since birth. “Do we know each other?”
Nadia’s sharp but low intake of breath glanced off his ears, and he faced her again, openly scrutinizing her face for any telltale signs of deception. But she was good. Aside from that gasp, her expression remained shuddered. Either she had nothing to hide or she was damn good at lying.
He couldn’t decide which one to believe.
“No,” she whispered. “We don’t know each other.”
Truth rang in her voice, and the vise squeezing his chest loosened a fraction of an inch.
“And I guess, I didn’t see the point of exchanging names. If not for this blackout or you being in this hallway instead of the ballroom, our paths wouldn’t have crossed. And when the power is restored, we’ll become strangers again. Getting to know each other will pass the time but it’s not because we truly want to. It’s not…honest.”
Her explanation struck him like a punch. It echoed throughout his body, vibrating through skin and bone. Honest. What did he know about that?
In the world he moved in, deception was everywhere—from the social niceties of “It’s so good to see you” to the cagey plans to land a business deal. He wasn’t used to her brand of frankness, and so he didn’t give her platitudes. Her honesty deserved more than that.
“You’re right,” he said. “And you’re wrong.” Deliberately, he straightened his legs until they sprawled out in front him, using that moment to force himself to give her the truth. “If not for me needing to get out of that ballroom and bumping into you here, we wouldn’t have met. You would be outside, unprotected in the parking lot or on the road. And I would be trapped in the dark with people I wish I didn’t know, most likely going out of my mind. So for that alone, I’m glad we did connect. Because Nadia…” He surrendered to the need that had been riding him since looking down into her upturned face, and clasped a lock of her hair, twisting it around his finger. “Nadia, I would rather be out here with you, a complete stranger I’ve met by serendipity, then surrounded by the familiar strangers I’ve known for years in that ballroom.”
She stared at him, her pretty lips slightly parted, espresso eyes widened in surprise.
“Another thing you’re correct and incorrect about. True, when the lights come back on and we leave here, we probably won’t see each other again. But in this moment, there’s nothing I want more than to discover more about Nadia with the gorgeous mouth, the unholy curves and the underwhelming fairy godmother.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed it with the comments about her mouth and body, but if they were being truthful, then he refused to hide how attractive he found her. Attractive, hell. Such an anemic description for his hunger to explore every inch of her and be able to write a road map later.
Her lashes fluttered before lowering, hiding her eyes. In her lap, her elegant fingers twisted. He released the strands of her hair and checked the impulse to tip her chin up and order her to look at him.
“Why did you need to escape the ballroom?” she asked softly.
He didn’t immediately reply, instead waiting until her gaze rose to meet his.
Only then did he whisper, “To find you.”
©Blame it on the Billionaire, Naima Simone 2020
Books I Love A Latte participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you click on the link and purchase the featured book and/or anything else during that shopping session, Books I Love A Latte will receive a small percentage between 2-6%. Any profit earned from this transaction is given directly back to readers via giveaways (gift cards, books, etc.) Thank you in advance.
Thank you in advance for your continued support.
Blame it on the Billionaire by Naima Simone is perfection. Delicious, decadent, and satisfied my craving for a scorchin read. Be warned, you might find that despite the cold weather outside a sudden need to turn on the A/C. 
A heroine who is genuine, passion that radiates through my e-reader click after click, and the flawless writing makes this one-click worthy.
Grayson Chandler is done with his meddling and nagging mother who is not afraid to remind him of his family obligations. Expectations don’t care about the heart or personal feelings. When Grayson finds the one woman who could potentially save him and satisfy all of his needs, he will propose a business deal that could jeopardize everything. Some things are worth the risk ;).
When Nadia Jordan meets Grayson during a blackout, her world will spin on its axis. What will happen when the lights turn on and the truth is revealed? Nadia will do whatever she must to overcome her mothers reputation even if it means breaking her heart. This journey is one that ticks all the boxes and will be one your recommend to other romance lovers :).
Warm up your winter nights with this read and discover a romance that dares to defy as we discover the emotional journey of two characters who are destined to be together. A journey worth taking and one that will leave you wanting more from Naima Simone. I wish there was more, not because the story didn’t have closure or ended too soon. I wanted more because I fell in love with the characters and could’ve kept on reading.
I received a copy from the publisher for a fair and honest review. I can’t wait for more from this must read author.
Get your copy now!
Good thing Naima has a backlist to keep you satisfied – click here.
USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Sandra Brown many years ago. Well not that many. She is only eighteen…ish. Though her first attempt at a romance novel starring Ralph Tresvant from New Edition never saw the light of day, her love of romance, reading and writing has endured. Published since 2009, she spends her days—and nights— writing sizzling romances with a touch of humor and snark.
She is wife to Superman, or his non-Kryptonian, less bullet proof equivalent, and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They all live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern United States.
Stay connected with Rae Latte and Books I Love A Latte for Book Reviews, Excerpts, Teasers, Coffee With (Interviews), Giveaways, Authors Dish, Book Sales, and other Tasty Tidbits.
Jan 16, 2020 | Blog, January 2020, Jessica Ruddick, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from In the Pocket by Jessica Ruddick.
Without thinking about it, I reached for her hand and traced her fingertips. Her nails were perfectly shaped and covered with clear polish. Her skin was so damn smooth, her fingers long and graceful. I wondered if she played piano. If she didn’t, she should. She had the hands for it.
Her breath hitched, causing me to look over at her. Her eyes were wide, and she looked shaken. “Why do you do that?” she whispered.
My instinct was to drop her hand, but I didn’t. Instead, I studied her hand. Why the hell did I do that? The answer was simple—I wanted to touch her. I’d never been the affectionate sort, but she brought it out in me. She brought a lot of things out in me, like a newfound need to throw all my past dating rules out the window. Don’t get attached. Don’t get serious. Don’t get close. Following those rules had kept things clean and simple, but I was starting to wonder if simple necessarily meant better. I took a deep breath. “Does it bother you?”
“No…yes… I mean no.” She sighed. “Apparently, I don’t know what I mean.”
“If it bothers you, I’ll stop.”
She swallowed. “Don’t stop.”
©In the Pocket, Jessica Ruddick 2020
Books I Love A Latte participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you click on the link and purchase the featured book and/or anything else during that shopping session, Books I Love A Latte will receive a small percentage between 2-6%. Any profit earned from this transaction is given directly back to readers via giveaways (gift cards, books, etc.) Thank you in advance.
Thank you in advance for your continued support.
Previously published review here.
Award-winning young adult and romance author Jessica Ruddick lives in Virginia with her college-sweetheart husband, two rambunctious sons, and two rowdy but lovable rescue dogs. Since her house is overflowing with testosterone, it’s a good thing she has a healthy appreciation for Marvel movies, Nerf guns, and football. Learn more about Jessica at jessicaruddick.com.
Stay connected with Rae Latte and Books I Love A Latte for Book Reviews, Excerpts, Teasers, Coffee With (Interviews), Giveaways, Authors Dish, Book Sales, and other Tasty Tidbits.
Nov 24, 2019 | Blog, Gina L. Maxwell, November 2019, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from Hook by New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Gina L. Maxwell.
Exclusive Excerpt of Hook by Gina L. Maxwell
For the first time in my adult life, I might be out of my depth.
Not on the job. I’m confident in my abilities for this assignment. I have a good team behind me, and the background they created for me is solid. Croc can look all the way back to my kindergarten records, and he’ll find that John Dorian McRae was excellent at coloring in the lines but also had issues with authority.
No, it’s not the case that’s got me tossing and turning on these Egyptian cotton sheets (I guess he wasn’t kidding about enjoying the finer things in life). It’s the man on the other side of this wall. The man who sucked my sweat from the pad of his thumb and demanded I acknowledge his authority over me in this loft. And fuck if I didn’t want to agree before he even got all the words out. I would’ve done it on my knees if he’d pointed at the floor.
And that’s what has me so twisted up—this insane desire to please James, whatever it takes. I want to give him what he needs, to make him feel good, if only in the context of the bedroom. But while I’ve always been in relationships where we switched off physically as tops and bottoms, I’ve never had any kind of submissive tendencies. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m very Type A. I like control and my routines, and the only time I ever take orders is from my superiors at work. Full stop.
But with James…f^*k, I don’t know what it is. Maybe there’s a part of me that’s still that little boy trying to impress the older kid and get him to like me or even notice me. Maybe it’s because I know he hasn’t had it easy in life and the idea of being an escape for him, however briefly, speaks to my protective side. Whatever the case, I can’t let it affect this assignment. Too much is at stake. I need to keep things strictly professional.
Strictly.
Professional.
Growling at the ceiling, I kick off the sheet and get out of bed. All this thinking about James is making me thirsty, and since I’m not getting any damn sleep, I might as well get some water. I contemplate slipping on a pair of lounge pants over my boxer briefs, but that seems like a lot of work for a ten-second walk to the fridge, so I don’t bother as I leave my room and head for the kitchen.
His place is nice, understated and simple. But it might as well be a hotel suite—tidy and functional, with all the furniture and appliances one needs but without any of the personal touches that make it a home. No pictures, knickknacks, or anything that would give any clue as to who lives here. I have a small house in the middle-class area of London. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s homey. I worked hard to put my stamp on it and fill it with things that remind me of the people I love.
Opening the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and take note of the blender in the corner on my way out of the kitchen. Good, I’ll need that for my morning meal. I twist off the cap, drain half the water, and recap it as I pad my way across the huge living room.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and instinctively reach for the gun that isn’t there. The water bottle drops to the floor and rolls under the couch somewhere as I try to recover from the near heart attack.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me,” I say to a very calm James who’s sprawled in the chair, bathed in the light of the full moon streaming in through the windows. He’s wearing only a pair of black lounge pants, his legs stretched out in front of him, his incredible torso on full display.
Holy s%*t, this is the first time I’ve ever seen Hook shirtless, and my eyes drink in every detail like a greedy sponge. He has another tattoo—a large, three-masted ship flying a pirate flag that takes up most of his right side—his nipples are pierced with hoops, and his chest is lightly dusted with black hair that disappears at his sternum and picks back up under his navel. He has the frame of a swimmer, broad at the shoulders and tapered at the waist, with plenty of defined muscles in between.
I feel like someone dumped water on my mental circuit board. I can’t think, can’t speak. And it’s not even the tattoo, the pierced nipples, the blocks of abs, or the dips of his V angling into his low waistband that has me completely tongue-tied. It’s the fact that he’s reading a worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and wearing black Clark Kent eyeglasses. He looks like a f#%kable, badass professor relaxing at home. Good goddamn, this part of the assignment is going to be one giant exercise in sexual frustration.
“What the hell are you doing over there?”
A single eyebrow rises above the rim of his glasses. “If you can’t figure that out, you might not be as good of a cop as you think.”
I roll my eyes. “I mean, what are you doing reading at nearly three in the morning? You have insomnia or something?”
“Or something.”
His tone has a hint of bitterness, or maybe resentment. Combined with the elusive answer, the wheels in my cop brain start spinning. “Do—”
He lifts his book again and interrupts me with a forceful, “Go back to sleep, Darling.”
I’ve accepted that he’s going to keep using my last name as a way to get under my skin, so it no longer bothers me. But f%^k if I’m telling him that. “I wasn’t sleeping, either.”
He lowers the book to his lap, and his eyes take a slow perusal of my body. Everywhere his gaze lands feels like an intimate touch, making me burn in its wake, and if I don’t distract myself, I’ll be pointing due north in seconds. There’s a trick I’ve used in the past if I found my mind wandering down a path that might lead to an awkward reaction. If I catalog the details of the person’s face and mentally file them away like I’ll need them for a report later, it keeps my mind out of the gutter. C’mon, cop brain, don’t fail me now.
Jesus. How can someone with such a ruthless reputation be so goddamn beautiful? His features are an odd mix of harsh and lush that complement each other. Cold eyes are framed with thick lashes, his often-snarling mouth is made with sexy, full lips, and his granite-edge jawline is softened by his trim beard that looks like strands of black silk. My fingers itch to stroke it as my lips lay claim to his, then trail lower to where the silky strands fade into the top of his throat, kissing their way down…
F#%k. So much for that trick. There’s no hiding my reaction to him when the only armor I have is a pair of gray boxer briefs. His eyes drag back up my body to meet mine, his mouth twisting into a smug grin. “Insomnia?”
“Or something,” I answer huskily.
©Hook, Gina L. Maxwell 2019
** Note the book has a new cover **
Books I Love A Latte participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for us to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. If you click on the link and purchase the featured book and/or anything else during that shopping session, Books I Love A Latte will receive a small percentage between 2-6%. Any profit earned from this transaction is given directly back to readers via giveaways (gift cards, books, etc.) Thank you in advance.
Thank you in advance for your continued support.
Previously published review here.
Gina L. Maxwell is a full-time writer, wife, and mother living in the upper Midwest, despite her scathing hatred of snow and cold weather. An avid romance novel addict, she began writing as an alternate way of enjoying the romance stories she loves to read. Her debut novel, Seducing Cinderella, hit both the USA Today and the New York Times bestseller lists in less than four weeks, and she’s been living her newfound dream ever since.
When she’s not reading or writing steamy romance novels, she spends her time losing at games to her high school sweetheart, hanging out with their adult teenagers as they learn to fly on their own, and dreaming of her move to someplace warm once they finally do.
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Nov 16, 2019 | Angelina M. Lopez, Blog, November 2019, The Extra Shot
Welcome to The Extra Shot where you’ll find an EXCLUSIVE excerpt from Lush Money by Angelina Lopez.
One-click your copy now and get ready for a new book adventure.
Exclusive Excerpt of Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez
“Okay,” she conceded, raising her chin. “We’ll talk.” Those golden eyes took her in, assessed her. Slowly, he nodded. Then he stood up, buttoning the single button of his coat as if getting ready to leave.
Frustrated, she said, “But I thought we were going to talk.”
His eyes narrowed with a smirk as he walked around the table toward her. He tipped up her chin with a hot fingertip and searched her eyes. “You really think I’m going to trust your word, Princesa?” She could feel the warm puffs of his words against her lips. “Send the amended contract to my attorney. Tomorrow we’ll talk.” He nodded. “And since I’m feeling generous and you’ve already used up one night of your three, we’ll also do…whatever else you want to do. After we talk.”
His quick kiss was a surprise, barely a brush of skin and wine-spiced breath. Still it made her lips tingle.
Still it made her gasp a quick intake of breath. He heard her and rewarded her with his first real smile as he straightened.
His smile was glorious, a slow reveal of blinding white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek and laugh lines that pointed to eyes that seemed to glow just for her. His smile made her not care that he was laughing at her, that he’d palmed some of the power for himself and that he was gloating. His smile was beautiful, transforming her sullen, angry prince into a man who obviously felt joy enough to get laugh lines, a man who probably spent a lot of time smiling when she wasn’t around.
He turned his back on her and Roxanne watched his broad, tall silhouette leave, hands in his pockets, head probably already back in his greenhouse.
His smile—and the man himself, Roxanne was starting to realize—was very, very, very dangerous.
©Lush Money, Angelina M. Lopez 2019
Previously published review here.
Angelina M. Lopez wrote “arthur” when her kindergarten teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. In the years since she learned to spell the word correctly, she’s been a journalist for an acclaimed city newspaper, a freelance magazine writer, and a content marketer for small businesses. At long last, she found her way back to “author.”
Angelina writes sexy, contemporary stories about strong women and the confident men lucky enough to fall in love with them. The fact that her parents own a vineyard in California’s Russian River Valley might imply a certain hedonism about her; it’s not true. She’s a wife and a mom who lives in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. She makes to-do lists with perfectly drawn check boxes. She checks them with glee.
Her first book, Lush Money, is available now from Carina Press. Her second book, Hate Crush, will be available June 2020. You can find more about her at her website, AngelinaMLopez.com and at @AngelinaMLo on Instagram and Twitter.
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