Sale Blitz: Never Tear Us Apart by Monica Murphy

Never Tear Us Apart by Monica Murphy is sexy and dark and is NOW ON SALE for just pennies!

never tear us apart

Available for $0.99 at the following retailers:

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Synopsis2Crazy how eight years can disappear in an instant. One look at Katie Watts, and I’m a fifteen-year-old again—the one who risked everything to save a terrified girl from her twisted kidnapper. She’s grown-up now—beautiful, quiet, composed—and telling her story to the world. A story that involves me in more ways than you can imagine. She used to call me her guardian angel. Sure, I risked my life, but she was worth dying for.

I need to make contact with her. Just to ensure that she’s safe.

Somehow we reconnect. We become friends . . . but I want more. I want to make her mine. And she wants me too. Does she know who I am? Has she figured me out? Not yet. But she will. In the meantime, I need to make sure that whatever hold that animal had on her is gone.

So, yeah, I’m stealing these moments with her. Savoring them. Knowing, dreading, that she’ll soon find out who I really am. And everything will fall apart. All because of that twisted, perverted monster sitting on death row. Her kidnapper. A convicted serial killer.

My father.

Never Let You Go is the stunning conclusion to Katie & Ethan’s story! This sexy dark romance will be released on May 3rd.

never tear us apart teaser

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Now Available for Pre-order here:

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author

monica murphy

New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She’s a workaholic who loves her job. When she’s not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and contemporary romance and is published with Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.

Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of her books and inquiries regarding foreign translation should be directed to her agent Kimberly Whalen.

Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest

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Sale Blitz: Full Measures by Rebecca Yarros

full measures sales blitz

In anticipation of the January 25th release of Hallowed Ground, the newest stand alone to the Flight and Glory Series, Rebecca Yarros has placed Full Measures (Book One) ON SALE.

Do not miss out on the opportunity to grab this beautifully written, emotional military romance about love, loss and survival for ONLY $0.99!

ON SALE NOW!

**Limited Time Only – Each book can be read as a stand alone**

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1mAypW4

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full measure

Synopsis2

 

She knew. That’s why Mom hadn’t opened the door. She knew he was dead.

Twenty years as an army brat and Ember Howard knew, too. The soldiers at the door meant her dad was never coming home. What she didn’t know was how she would find the strength to singlehandedly care for her crumbling family when her mom falls apart.

Then Josh Walker enters her life. Hockey star, her new next-door neighbor, and not to mention the most delicious hands that insist on saving her over and over again. He has a way of erasing the pain with a single look, a single touch. As much as she wants to turn off her feelings and endure the heartache on her own, she can’t deny their intense attraction.

Until Josh’s secret shatters their world. And Ember must decide if he’s worth the risk that comes with loving a man who could strip her bare.

full measures teaser

 

Excerpt

Full Measures Hallway Scene – Josh POV

The tile floor was cold under my bare feet as I leaned back against the kitchen counter, eating even colder ice cream. Muffled voices came from the entry hall, which probably meant Jagger had another girl over. Not that I cared, but it was a harsh reminder that the only girl I wanted was literally a wall away and wanted nothing to do with me.

Then again, after watching her set that shirt on fire yesterday, I was beginning to think it was less me she was angry at and more the entire world. I got it, really. She’d lost her dad, her mom wasn’t functioning, and she couldn’t get a moment peaceful enough to get her feet under her. She was frustrating as hell, and I couldn’t even blame her for it. Stronger women would have crumbled under what she’d been handed. So I flipped Jagger off when he’d asked me if we needed to call Oprah about my “manpain,” ate ice cream like a heartbroken girl, and tried not to fantasize about licking it off Ember. Looks like I failed that one, too.

“Barbies?” Ember’s voice came through clear as a bell, and I nearly dropped my spoon. Chills ran down my arms, and it wasn’t because of the ice cream currently melting on my tongue. Nope, just my skin reacting to her nearness. I licked off the back of the spoon, abandoned the bowl on the counter, and moved to straighten my shirt, but I wasn’t wearing one. I didn’t give it a second thought before I quietly rounded the corner, leaning back against the wall to get a better look at her.

“Walker! You got company!” Jagger called out, not realizing I was right behind him. Then again, neither did Ember, which gave me a coveted minute to soak her in, adorable bare feet and all. “Just in case he isn’t what you’re looking for… My name’s Jagger.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jagger.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure.”

Oh, hell no. I knew that voice on Jagger, the one that sought any good-looking woman in a five-mile radius, and couldn’t stay quiet. “Jagger, back the fuck up off Ember.”

His head dropped a fraction of an inch, just enough to let me know he’d heard me stake the claim. I’d pulled some kindergarten shit and basically licked her like a snack I didn’t want to share — I didn’t give a fuck if it was immature.

“And another one bites the dust,” Jagger said as he passed by me. He shot up his eyebrows in question, and I answered with an almost indistinguishable nod. Yes, this is the girl I’ve been talking about.

          He laughed so quietly I almost missed it. Almost. Laugh it up. One day it will be you.

I locked my gaze on Ember and waited to see what she would do. She was like a wounded animal, and every time I reached my hand out, she’d bite, so this time I’d let her move first. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to move toward her.

She walked inside the entry hall, stopping close enough for me to kiss. Damn, she was beautiful. I would have killed for even a hint of what was going on behind those blue eyes. She blinked, but stayed silent.

I reached out before I could stop myself and palmed her cheek. “December?” Damn if she didn’t lean into my touch. It was there, the crackle of energy, the invisible tie that kept me tethered to her no matter how hard or far she pushed me away.

Her breath hitched as she turned into my hand, her lips parting as she skimmed over my skin, inhaling. Want slammed through me, and I forced it back on the bench. I wasn’t sure why she was here, or what she needed, but it wasn’t me pouncing on her.

Or maybe it is. I barely finished the thought before her mouth was on mine, hard and insistent. I was all too willing.

This wasn’t a gentle kiss, or even an apologetic one. It was open, carnal, and I sank into her, desperate to give her what we both craved. A growl ripped from my throat when she sucked my tongue into her mouth. God, she was warm.

I took control, stroking down her curves until her perfect ass filled my hands. With a squeeze, I brought her with me as I flipped to press her against the wall. Then I kissed her like I needed to, stroking her mouth with my tongue the way I’d used my fingers on her body back in Breckenridge—relentlessly and to every advantage.

Her fingers sank into my hair, and she moaned into my mouth, pushing me one step closer to losing what little control I had left. But when she rocked her hips against me, all thoughts of restraint fled. I licked down her neck, savoring her pulse against my tongue and the way she gasped when I gently kissed the patch of skin at the base.

Zip! Holy shit. She unzipped her hoodie, exposing miles of soft skin above her tank top. I picked her up, using the wall as leverage as I set my mouth to the delicate lines of her collarbone. Her taste, her scent, all of her surrounded me, blurring the outside world until there was only Ember.

I met her gaze, her eyes soft and hazed with the same lust streaking through my veins. “Josh,” she whispered, holding my face like I was something precious. I’d been a lot of things to a lot of different girls, but precious wasn’t really one of them, and she was infinitely more precious to me for it.

I set her down but didn’t back away, feeling every curve and hollow against my bare skin, and barely biting back a groan. I wish I’d had a shirt on. Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? Ten shirts couldn’t have protected me from Ember.

I kissed her again, using every ounce of skill I had to make her lose herself in the same way I had. I kept her guessing, never allowing her to settle into the kiss, changing the tempo, the pressure, anything to keep her as off-balance as she had me. She skimmed her fingers down my chest, along the lines of my stomach, and tensed. She dipped her fingers under the band of my flannel pants, and I was ready to rip every piece of clothing off her body so I could get to her skin. Another inch and she’d feel exactly how badly I wanted her.

Damn it. This was way too much, and not anything of what she actually needed. I’d be her whatever, but I had to draw the line when she was doing more harm than good. “December,” I whispered against her mouth, her lips swollen from mine, and pulled back just far enough to rest my forehead against hers. I closed my eyes until I had my body back under control. “I’m fucking desperate to carry you to my bedroom, but I don’t think this is what you want.”

Her eyes flew wide, and her skin stained pink before she hid behind her hands. “What am I doing?”

I got my shit under control, taking two deep breaths before I pulled her hands away. “What are you doing?”

“I came to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. Sorry for the mixed signals.” She laughed. “But apparently I jumped you instead, and now I’m sorry for that, too.”

“Sorry for jumping me?” Hell no. I smiled. She could be sorry for pushing me away, for going from hot to cold faster than the kitchen faucet she used to put that fire out yesterday. But I wouldn’t let her apologize for giving me a few minutes to glimpse heaven.

“No. I’m not sorry for jumping you. I’m sorry about my god-awful timing.”

My smile slipped as I ran my thumb across the lips I was becoming obsessed with. “I told you I’m here for whatever you need, Ember. Jumping, apologies, whatever.”

“I’d better get back to studying.”

Boom. She may as well have slammed the door on me, and I retreated a step. “I’d better get in the shower.”

“Didn’t you just…?”

I let my mind wander to the shower, to what I could do to her body, pressed up against mine, water making her slick under my hands – how easy it would be to slide inside her. Stop. “Yeah, but I think I need another one at a different temperature.”

She flushed brighter pink. “Oh. I’m sorry about that, too.”

I couldn’t stop a grin from overtaking me. “I’m not.” I stepped forward until her back hit the wall, then bent down, a breath away from her lips, from what I knew we both wanted but wouldn’t push for. “If you apologize like that, feel free to treat me like shit any time you want. I will be your personal doormat.”

full measures teaser 2

Buy The Book

New Military Romance from Rebecca Yarros in

Hallowed Ground (Book Four) of the

Flight & Glory Series releases January 25th!

hallowed ground cover

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OVPJ0w

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Y05StF

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iBooks: http://apple.co/1lywj8A

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** View Hallowed Ground Trailer HERE **

hallowed ground 2

 

author

rebecca yarros

Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and lover of all things chocolate, coffee, and Paleo. In addition to being a mom, military wife, and blogger, she can never choose between Young Adult and New Adult fiction, so she writes both. She’s a graduate of Troy University, where she studied European history and English, but still holds out hope for an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. Her blog, The Only Girl Among Boys, has been voted the Top Military Mom Blog the last two years, and celebrates the complex issues surrounding the military life she adores.

When she’s not writing, she’s tying on hockey skates for her kids, or sneaking in some guitar time. She is madly in love with her army-aviator husband of eleven years. They finally can call Colorado home along with their gaggle of rambunctious kiddos and snoring English Bulldog.

 

Stalk Rebecca here:

Website: http://www.rebeccaelizabethyarros.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RebeccaElizabethYarros

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/327562767450842/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RebeccaYarros

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rebeccayarros/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7539785.Rebecca_Yarros

Amazon Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rebecca-Yarros/e/B00HYKBU1W/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1449029619&sr=8-2-ent

Sale Blitz: Bait by M. Mabie

LgBaitSale

BAIT LINKS:

Amazon: US http://amzn.to/1w4ySyp | Amazon: UK http://goo.gl/2w6Ecn | Amazon: CA http://goo.gl/hjbwMZ |Amazon: AU http://goo.gl/s1w3Rl

Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/MHXcHA | Kobo: http://goo.gl/BH7q49 | iBooks: http://goo.gl/E1nYMD

Guys, I cannot recommend this book to you more. It is fabulous, and phenomenal, and extraordinary, and every other positive adjective you can think of! Seriously, this is a TOP READ and it needs to be read by you ASAP! I cannot say that enough!!

Bait Excerpt

Blake

Saturday, February 14, 2009

THE WEEKEND WASN’T GOING to make anything better, but I had to give it a shot.

I was shaking. Running the razor up my soapy leg. I’d been nervous all day.

It had to be the last time, but I wanted to make it count. I knew how twisted that was. Finish on top, as they say. After tonight I’d go back to being the adoring fiancée.

I’d be faithful.

And if that was my last night with Casey, I’d need to make it count. I wanted to remember every second.

After my legs were smooth and everything else was in order. I put my face under the hot stream of water coming from the showerhead. I thought about the shower we took in Seattle. About how his hands roamed my body and touched me everywhere a man could touch a woman. My hand ran down to my core, feeling my trimmed hair.

God I want to feel you bare. I don’t want anything in between us.

His words echoed through my mind and I reached for the soap and the razor. I’d gone down to naked skin before, but it was a very, very

long time ago. I thought it was probably in college.

I took my time, doing a thorough job. When I was finished my skin felt new and sensitive. Like the hair had been hiding me from wondrous sensations. I ran my fingers over myself and anticipated Casey’s doing the same.

After I had dried myself and applied his favorite-smelling lotion, I blow dried my hair, then stained my cheeks and lips and darkened my eyes and lashes.

I pulled a black garter up each leg. I wasn’t going to be wearing much, but I wanted to enjoy him taking his time removing them. I pulled the black, thigh-high stocking up my calves and fastened them to the garters with the clips that hung from ice-blue bows. I slipped my legs through the black silk underwear and prepared myself for the icing on the cake. The set that I’d ordered, and was currently dressing in, came with a corset.

It was black with ice-blue ribbons matching the bows on the garters and panties. It laced up the front. I’d looked at the ones that laced from behind, but they looked like a nightmare. I’d already have a struggle getting into one I could watch myself lace.

When the last hook and eye was latched, I straightened it and pulled. Instantly my chest looked bigger, fuller and heaved from the already very low-cut fabric that held my breasts. I ran my hands up the sides, feeling the rigid and straight boning, and yet I felt so comfortable and held together.

I pulled on the blue silk robe that completed the ensemble and went out into the main room to find the shoes and start a fire. I plugged my phone into the suite’s speakers and got out the champagne, putting it on ice in a bucket on the coffee table in the main room. I brought a plate of cheese and fruit to the table and then I went back to the kitchenette for the last piece.

The courage. The kind from a bottle. I had ordered a small decanter and placed it on the table as well. I was going to need a few shots if I ever had a prayer of pulling this off. Seduction wasn’t my forte. But he deserved it.

I usually felt so awkward and clumsy during sex. Well. Not with Casey.

With him I felt worshiped and desired. He acted like he craved me in the way he moaned from kissing my neck sometimes. It made me feel special. Made me feel sexy and wanton.

I arranged the extra pillows and blankets, that I’d ordered up, and they looked so inviting there on the floor in the center of the room.

I’d given it some thought on my plane ride here this morning. I wanted the night to be unforgettable. It was already unforgivable.

I downed two shots. Back to back. The cognac tasted sweet and bold. The taste lingered on my tongue.

I left the robe on. I wanted him to open me like an expensive gift. I wanted to watch his eyes up close when he saw what I was hiding underneath.

I’d told him to be there at eight and it was five to when he knocked. I’d left him a key—as was customary for us at hotels then—knowing he would use it if I didn’t answer.

I rose to my feet, with an extra four inches added from the Brian Atwood heels which Reggie bought me for Christmas. How was I to know they’d come in so handy when I’d sent him a joking picture in a text message version of a fairy-tale princess’s Christmas list?

As I stood there preparing myself, my heartbeat didn’t exactly feel fast; it just felt strong. A powerful pulsing that reverberated throughout my whole body.

The door handle clicked.

I’d turned the lights out, only a few recessed lights over the bar area and the fireplace remained lighting the room. It was tastefully amber and dim. The backlighting behind his body from the bright hallway, when he opened the door, gave me a chill.

He wore a perfectly tailored suit and looked so masculine in profile. It fit to his tight body in magical ways. His hair was tamed back with that miracle product he used to make it look controlled, and in the light, I could see the front was beginning its rebellion, loosening and falling forward more than it should.

He looked like a king. King Casey.

He closed the door gently and pocketed his hand into his slacks making the fabric taught over his already visible bulge.

I licked my lips.

I wanted another shot, but I didn’t dare move.

His blue eyes glittered from the lick of the flames behind me.

The song changed. I recognized it within the first few chords. The single guitar. The arpeggio. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.

I swallowed. Eyeing him standing there, looking at me, the beautiful confusion of it all made my mouth water.

His eyes wandered over me like a search light, both warning and guiding my body home.

He walked toward me and I started forward to meet him halfway, but he held a hand up and stopped where he was when we were still feet apart.

“You look like my wildest dream.” His perfect hand still hung in the air. “Let me look you at you little more. This memory has to last me long time, honeybee.” He pandered his time. I watched him examine every detail of me. I thought I’d feel self-conscious, but the opposite happened.

I was proud, and having him take the time to look at every one of the things I’d done to get his attention felt so gratifying. I had prayed that at least one would capture his interest.

The corners of his lips quirked when his eyes shifted focus down toward my garter clips. He faked coolness by biting his bottom lip, but he didn’t fool me.

Finally, he said, “Come here.”

My right leg, my left leg and I, we all went to him together. My entire body working on its own. It was so easy.

“Wait, one more thing,” he interjected. Then did the international sign for spin-it-a-around, his smile bleeding through every feature on his face. His eyes looked like neon in the darkness.

I did a slow twirl, looking over my shoulder on my way back around. I batted my eyes to get a reaction.

“You look like the definition of temptation.” His eyes squinted and he pantomimed a come-here head nod. God, his claws were sunk so deep into me. If I looked like temptation, he looked precisely capable of charming-the-pants-off the Queen of England.

With my shoes, the height brought my eyes to his lips, my favorite latitude on planet Earth.

He ran a hand over my hair and pushed it behind my shoulder. “I can almost taste you, you smell that good,” he said, hushed. “You did all of this for me?”

“I did.” I was fixated on his mouth. I wanted to put my lips on him. I wanted to touch and undress him, but this was his show and I was only too happy letting him run it. The energy coming off him was palpable.

“Do you know how hard I am? I don’t know if you considered my lack of restraint when it comes to you this close to me.” His hands grazed way down my arms. “What is all of this?”

“I wanted to do something for you.” I looked up at him through my lashes. “I want to make you happy. I want to be your Valentine.” I took a deep breath, the anticipation of his body hot against mine at the forefront of my thoughts. “Open me.”

Ten fingers rushed my face and his lips crushed mine. Then he lifted me into the air. Eye to eye. Mouth to mouth. His arms wrapped around me and held me close. Mine went straight into his hair, my fin-gers spreading to get a grip on my unavoidable man.

“You taste like the night we met,” I heard him say.

He walked us farther into the room, me in his arms, our mouths tasting one another, his tongue circling mine to a beat unheard before.

I let my head fall to his neck and I opened my mouth to wet him with kisses, inhaling his scent—earthy and masculine and something sweet and only him.

The music changed again, but at that time, I couldn’t tell you what the song was.

When my feet touched the floor again, his hands were urgent. He undid the bow where my robe tied in the front and he pushed the silk off my shoulders. The fabric easily slid off me.

The look in his eyes was feral. “Look at you. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He teased as his hands found my breasts and cupped me. Like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to touch, he roamed me. Over the tight trussed-up corset, around to my ass, and back in quick succession.

“I’ve missed you. I know I’m not good to you and I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing where the words were coming from.

With a finger over my mouth he said, “Shhh. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

He was right. He did handle it, but what I didn’t know was how. I could barely manage.

He continued, “You’re my Valentine. Tonight you’re mine. Understand me? Even your thoughts.” He caressed my cheek. “Don’t think about anything but me. That’s what I want. I’m going to take every-thing you’re wearing off. I’m going to touch every inch of you with my mouth. And I’m not going to pretend this is just a fling tonight, like I’ve done every time. For one night, I want you to pretend like it’s me you’re promised to,” his thumbs ran over my lips, “Mine to care for and adore. Say yes to me. Even if it is only for tonight. Please?”

His words came honest. I knew he didn’t always say what he felt, because of me. Because I fought my feelings hard and so, battled his as well.

I’d said the most honest sentence I had, “Then I’m yours.” And with all my damned heart, I wished the words were true. He had never offered me more, and I didn’t think he ever would.

He took his time unwrapping me. I luxuriated in the feeling of his hands on me and my body followed his gentle direction. When the cor-set was gone and I stood there in my panties, my hands began wandering him. I couldn’t help want to touch his body the way he had been mine.

My nimble fingers undid the button on his coat and he shrugged out of it. My hands untucked his pressed dress shirt and began the climb of buttons separating him from me. I pulled it open and found him, like always, well defined and muscular. His stomach cut with lean muscles that flexed under my hands. His chest strong and firm. The long ridge of his collarbone, my favorite meal.

I didn’t bother with removing his shirt. Having even the slightest access to him was enough for me.

In my panties, stockings, and shoes I bent down to my knees with one thing in mind. I wanted to taste, to touch, and to have all of him. To please only him.

I kissed along the top edge of his dress pants, undoing his belt, and pulling it through its loops. Then, I tossed it away. The zipper went the way zippers do in these situations, and to my wonderful surprise, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I smiled at my discovery. It looked like he had finally made a decision about his undergarments.

My mouth continued to water.

His skin, too, was bare. But unknown to him, so was I.

My fingers circled underneath his length and pulled him out. I ran both of my hands under his pants to his ass and pulled them down farther to expose his scrotum, taught and collected tightly against him. Everything about him was beautiful.

I took him into my mouth and felt him flex inside me, growing even fuller. The taste of him was so intoxicating. His skin was like catnip and the more I had of it the more I needed. I looked up at him to see him watching me in wonder, his jaw ticking and every glorious muscle from my face to his was in full view.

I moaned around his cock, the sight of him like this stealing the remnant of every wayward thought from my head. It was only him and me. This night was for us.

I moved to a slow beat, enjoying every twitch, every breath he took while I pleasured him. He stood anchored in his spot. He brushed my hair back away from me, threaded his fingers through it, and pushed himself deep inside me before he pulled out of me and urgently pulled me up his decadent body. He kissed me, still holding my head in his hands with my hair. It was rough and his chest rose and fell in time with mine.

“Go lay down over there, Blake. I want to play with my Valentines’ gift.” A shiver ran through me. He released my hair and I backed up without looking at where I was going. My body on autopilot, I did what I was told.

I felt brazen and daring. I felt like I was living a fantasy. I leaned back on my elbows and drew my legs up then parted them like I’d dreamt of doing so many nights on the phone.

He came to crouch next to me and took stock of the table’s offerings.

“May I have a drink, honeybee? Good choice with the cognac. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sentimental.” His voice was rich with sensuality, but his eyes were alight with happiness. He was going to play with me. I was his toy tonight. His toy.

He fixed himself a drink. Two pieces of ice clanked in the glass, then two fingers of the sweet liquor followed. He brought the short glass to his lips and hummed his pleasure at the taste.

I was on fire and the anticipation of him touching me was thrumming through my veins.

His shirt was open and his pants, although still undone in the front were pulled back up. The runaway lock of hair, which had broken formation from the rest, was gathering company from us running our hands through it.

While I’d been studying him, I hadn’t paid attention to my wandering hand that was now rubbing my breast. My mouth was open and I was nearly panting.

After he drank down half of the glass, he touched my leg at the knee and leisurely ran his fingers up the skin to my thigh. His barely there touch wasn’t enough.

I wanted more. I needed more.

I spread my legs farther for him and unabashedly ran my hand to my sex. I rubbed myself over my panties trying to satisfy a need that was blazing deep inside me. His eyes watched me touch myself and I saw that his desire matched mine. The usually cool and easy-going Casey, was again gone, and in his place was the take-control lover I dreamed about nearly every night.

On his knees he climbed closer to me, between my legs, and his hand met mine.

“I want you, Casey.”

He replied, with a firm demanding voice, “Say it again.”

“I want you.”

Maybe it was the ambiance and romantic mood of the room. Maybe I felt so free because it was, decidedly, my last time with him.

That singular thought made me panic and I had to remind myself why. I had to recite in my head, Because you’re marrying another man. Because Casey only likes chasing you. Because he doesn’t want the same things you do. He doesn’t want a family. He doesn’t want a home. He likes traveling and being carefree.

And it was those exact things that made me believe I had to leave him and made my heart retch to let him go. Because he would never offer me anything different and I could no longer live with the desperate yearning I had for him, that was entwined with my deeper desires for home, future, and stability.

Then he caught me and halted the runaway train that was my thoughts.

“I told you, honeybee. No thinking like that.”

Had I said all that out loud? Or was it possible my thoughts were loud enough to hear.

Still, even though my mind was playing chess with itself, my body and heart never strayed. They belonged to him.

“Then kiss me. Distract me.”

He reached for the table and his glass, emptying it in his mouth and I watched as he downed every last drop, including the ice. Returning the empty glass to the table, his eyes found mine and I saw a hint of mischief.

He dipped his head to my neck. The sensation was hot, but I could feel the coolness of the ice at the same time. He kissed my chest and when he took my nipple into his mouth the ice across my warm flesh sent a rush of need straight through me. I bucked my hips trying to find the pressure and friction I craved, but he backed away and down my body, taking his ice with him.

When he got to the elastic at the top of my panties he stopped and looked up at me.

“You’re so beautiful, Blake. Your body was made for me.” He kissed above the little blue bow on my panties. He said, low and sultry, “Your smell haunts me.” He dipped his head lower and breathed me in, his eyes flickering as he inhaled. “I crave the taste of you, like a man starved.”

Sitting up a little, he grasped both sides of the thin string that circled my hips on both sides of the expensive lingerie bottoms.

Then they were gone.

He caressed me with his stare. His eyes took in my bared flesh and he prayed, “Mercy.”


This passage is protected under copyright ©M. Mabie 2015

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Title: Out of Reach

Author: Missy Johnson

Release Date: May 8, 2014

Synopsis2

My best friend was dying and I was in love with his girl.Andy and I had been best friends since we were eight-years old.

  Watching him slowly fade away, ever closer to his final breath, made me so incredibly angry. I knew there was nothing I could do to change it–I had given in to despair, but Andy had not. He had one last hand to play.

He wasn’t going to simply sit back and wait for Death to claim him–not Andy. He was going to live life until he couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer.

Andy didn’t want to die in some sterile hospital and asked me to take him and Emily to the beach. It would be our last road trip together.

Emily. Emily was a problem for me.

I harbored a secret that would have torn our friendship apart. I was in love with Andy’s girl, and had been since she’d walked into our sixth grade class, so many years ago.

So what kind of person am I? My best friend is dying, and it’s awful–but my heart still aches for his girl. I hate myself for thinking beyond Andy’s death and whether there could ever be a future for Emily and I, but I can’t help it.

I’m in love with her. 


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Missy lives in a small town in Central Victoria with her husband, and her confused pets (a dog who think she’s a cat, a cat who thinks he’s a dog…you get the picture).

When she’s not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.

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