Review: In Black & White by Nia Forrester

Nia Forrester never fails to create realistic portrayals of love that I always find so beautifully written. She never disappoints. And this is definitely true in her latest, In Black & White

Set in a leafy suburb of Philadelphia, we’re immediate dropped into what is every parent’s nightmare–the disappearance of a child. In this case, it’s the disappearance of 18-month-old Samara, the daughter of interracial couple Noah and Dana. Samara’s abduction and the subsequent fallout around it mark the beginning of a fascinating story that is in parts mystery and a thoroughly modern story of a love on the rocks. 

Forrester is a master at crafting three-dimensional characters. Dana and Noah are no different. From the first chapter when we learn the status of their marriage, we are given a very realistic, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes frustrating portrayal of a couple who come from different worlds. Noah is the product of privileged, old Pennsylvania money. Dana is his polar opposite–raised in a working-class neighbourhood in Baltimore by her grandmother and her older sister, she has struggled to get used to the life of privilege being Noah’s wife affords, especially since her skin color will always mark her as out of place in the world that Noah comes from. One of the aspects I loved about In Black & White is how Forrester deftly takes us through the couple’s history and its relevance to their separation. These snippets of their shared past help the reader understand who Dana and Noah were when they first met and what attracted them to one another as well as what has driven them apart. 

This is not a sugar-coated, fantasy-laden love story, so if that’s what you’re looking for, then this isn’t going to be the book for you. But if you’re in the mood for a very realistic look at a modern love and marriage, racial and socioeconomic differences (and how it can make or break a couple), and how the disappearance of a child can unveil secrets, then you’re going to love In Black & White.

Highly recommended! 5 stars.

REDESIGNING HAPPINESS BY NITA BROOKS

REDESIGNING HAPPINESS BY NITA BROOKS

Real life is a work in progress… #DesignYourLife

It wasn’t easy for Yvonne Cable to get over a heartbreaking relationship and revamp her life. But now the once-broke single mom is Atlanta’s most sought-after interior designer—and one-half of the media’s hottest power couple. She and her celebrity fiancé, Nathan, are a perfect, practical match, on—and off—camera. And with their new home improvement reality show the object of a fierce network bidding war, there’s no limit to how far they can go . . . 

But Yvonne is stunned when mogul Richard Barrington III unexpectedly makes an offer for their program. He’s the man she thought left her for a more successful woman. And he’s the father of her son—though he didn’t know it until now. Richard wants to get to know their boy, and Yvonne agrees, though she’s wary. Yet little by little, she’s finding it hard to resist the responsible, caring man Richard has become. But when a scandalous leak puts everything Yvonne’s worked for at risk, she’ll have to look beyond surfaces to come to terms with who she is—and discover what she truly wants.

AVAILABLE ON:

AMAZON | KENSINGTON | BARNES & NOBLE

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Nita Brooks is giving away a signed copy of Redesigning Happiness & a $10 Amazon gift card to a lucky winner!

CLICK TO ENTER

ABOUT NITA BROOKS

A reading addict, self-professed connoisseur of home improvement shows, and a collector of teapots, Nita Brooks resides in South Carolina with her family. You can connect with her on Facebook and Twitter at @AuthorNitaB.

CONNECT WITH NITA BROOKS

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New Release: Temptation by Chiquita Dennie


TEMPTATION BY CHIQUITA DENNIE

Age ain’t nothing but a number.

Gabriel McCollough is the star basketball coach, Top draft pick that played in one season and retired from the game of basketball from a injury and the twenty-five-year-old alpha male every young woman in town can’t help but like.

Desiree Spence is a good teacher, a good person, a quiet, reserved soul, but a chance meeting with a handsome coach, ten years her junior, tests her limits and stirs up a controversy she could’ve ever anticipated.

He wants her. She wants him. Everyone in their lives is against their relationship.

Will they give into societal pressures or follow their hearts’ desires?

Note: Chiquita writes stories with explicit language and adult content.

AVAILABLE ON:

AMAZON | BOOKS 2 READ

ENTER TO WIN

Heart of Stone 1 (e-book) & $10 Amazon gift card

CLICK HERE

EXCERPT

Prologue: Desiree

“Do you, Desiree Spence, take Gabriel McCullough to be your lawfully-wedded husband?” the pastor asked. He looked between Gabriel and me as we stared into each other’s eyes. Gabriel’s touch was reassuring; his eyes alone seemed to undress me, as though it were just the two of us standing there. 

That was the moment we’d been waiting for. After multiple obstacles and breakups, I realized I needed to put myself first and not let other factors define my happiness. Gabriel showed no signs of hesitation in marrying me, and I appreciated his strength and motivation. 

Over the past year, I’d taken a new job at East High School after leaving my old job as a substitute teacher. I’d dealt with David’s betrayal and getting fired. My family stood by me—even though my father wanted to kick his ass. Hearing the gossip around town helped my decision to start over in a new townand make new memories. What I didn’t expect was to encounter an overwhelmingforce that turned my life upside down—thissmooth, charismatic charmer with rich,milk-chocolate skin and dimples, with a small scar next to his mouth. Some people might have been put off by it, but in a weird way, it made him even sexier to me. Standing tall, at around 6’3”, he had broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms that brought me comfort every night in bed—not to mention Gabriel’s soft, oval, dark-browneyes that hadme melting in the palms of his hands. I loved climbing onto him every chance I got. Feeling his hands running up anddown my back brought chills to my spine. 

We waited before having sex again until the wedding night. It was Gabriel’s idea, and after the shock wore off, I remembered he always put my needs above his own. 

David could never compare to Gabriel; many times, David came off as selfish, making plans that revolved around his own needs. He liked to show off to our mutual friends and make himself seem bigger and more important than anyone else. I could count on my one hand how many times he got involved in the community.

After several nights of tossing and turning and yearning to have Gabriel by my side, I couldn’t wait to get him alone and try something new. The church we picked out was beautiful, with its fine crystal-and-gold window trimming. Flowers adorned each row, and thanks to the high ceiling, the church choir sounded exquisite as they performed one of my favorite songs, Tamia’s “Spend My Life with You”.

“Baby, you, all right?” Gabriel asked and squeezed my hands tighter to pull me out of my trance. 

A part of me felt nervous; my stomach was doing somersaults and my hands were sweaty; I was about to become someone’s wife. I looked around the room at my family, and my best friend, Sidney, as she rocked her newborn baby and my goddaughter, Coco, to sleep. If I hadn’t listened to Sidney that day and interviewed for the job, I wouldn’t have met my future love, my backbone, best friend, and my weakness. 

“Excuse me, Pastor,what did you say?” I asked as our guests laughed at me for zoning out during my wedding. 

“I asked, do you take Gabriel to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, through sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do,” I answered, giving Gabriel a coy smile.

“I do,” Gabriel answered huskily.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, and you may kiss the bride.”

I heard everyone shout and cheer before we even kissed.I caught a glimpse of Gabriel’s mother and sister, whispering back and forth; apparently, his mother was not the least bit interested in what was going on at her son’s wedding. I was amused by her long, sleeveless black dress and black sunglasses. Of course, she dressed like it was a funeral, instead of our wedding day. I was not surprised she showed up—just surprised she didn’t stop the wedding. 

I had a great relationship with his father, grandparents, and friends. His mom thought I was the devil, and she had tried her best to keep us apart—even conspiring with his ex-girlfriend to break us up, and then trying to convince him to play basketball again and quit teaching.

Gabriel lifted my veil and stared into my eyes as the tears slowly slipped down my cheeks. Standing on my tiptoes, I met him halfway, and our mouths sealed our vows. It was a sensual, pulsating kiss that had my juices flowing. I was ready to take him into the bathroom for a quickie.

“I love you, Mrs. McCullough,” he said.

“I love you too, Mr. McCullough.”

He gently wiped the tears traveling down my face.  “How does it feel to marry a man 10 years younger than you, babe?”

“Like I have a lifetime to share new memories—”

The church doors opened, and a familiar voice cut me off. “Desiree!”

“Da—David?” I stuttered, shocked at his interruption. 

ABOUT CHIQUITA DENNIE

Chiquita is an Author and Entrepreneur. Born in Memphis, TN, and currently a Los Angeles CA native. Her background in film/tv has taught and shaped her passion for writing with her debut romance novel Antonio and Sabrina Struck In Love. Favorite genre to write Contemporary Romantic Suspense. Since its debut, fans have embraced the unconventional love story of Sabrina Washington and Antonio De Luca. Amazon Best Seller in Italian, African American Drama,and Multicultral Romance. Check out her other work in Erotic, Paranormal and Women’s Fiction under amazon.com/kekerenee.

CONNECT WITH CHIQUITA DENNIE

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New Release: Torn by Brooklyn Knight

ABOUT THE BOOK

I did not tell her the truth about what I really am…

The circumstances surrounding our introduction are unimportant. The only thing that matters is that Sasha Wilcox is my mate and she belongs to me. A night of unbridled passion sealed the deal, but before I could tell her the truth, she was gone. Days have turned into weeks and there is no way I can be without her. I must find her and bring her back to me. No one will stand in my way, especially not the one man who thinks he can steal her from me, Stefan Miller.

I want him so badly, and I have no idea why…

The last thing I should be doing is thinking about Remi Moretti: the green-eyed Italian man who kidnapped me and held me hostage for three days in Tuscany. I want to say that I feared for my life while under his guard, but that would be a lie. The truth is, in a moment of… weakness, I gave my body to him. He set it on fire, but I escaped, and now I need to move on with my life with Stefan, a great guy, who will make a great boyfriend. But why do I crave Remi’s touch? Why do I smell his intoxicating essence every time I breathe? And why do I sense his presence, even though he’s in Italy, and I’m in Miami?

**READER ALERT**
This story contains extremely passionate and descriptive sex scenes. Not suitable for readers under the age of 18 years, or those who may be offended by somewhat graphic descriptions of sexual encounters. This story also contains scenes which include expletives. Brooklyn’s characters exhibit real emotions and desires, and though she is their creator, she is also very sensitive to their needs and wants, and works in partnership with them to create their unique HEAs.

Publication Date March 21, 2019
Series Alpha Series #1
Genre Multicultural & Interracial Romance, Paranormal Romance, Werewolf & Shifter Romance, Romance
Add To Goodreads TBR


PURCHASE LINKS
Amazon eBook | Amazon Paperback


ABOUT BROOKLYN KNIGHT

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Brooklyn Knight is a romance enthusiast who lives in the island of Bermuda and has been writing stories since she was a little girl. Over the years, her gift for designing and bringing characters to life has evolved, and she enjoys creating vivid, memorable characters and unforgettable situations. Her characters are thought-provoking and evocative; and they will draw emotion out of you like water from a well.


CONNECT WITH BROOKLYN KNIGHT
Website | Goodreads | Bookbub | Amazon Author Central | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter


Hosted by Vaneka Miles PR.

New Release: Trois by Brooklyn Knight

Trois is the exciting conclusion to Brooklyn Knight’s The French Connection series; A BWWM, Multicultural & Interracial Romance. It is currently on sale now in eBook and paperback format.


ABOUT THE BOOK

He has three days to save her…

Dylan Hamilton has waited two years for this day to arrive; the day when Laila Renaud will become his wife. But the morning after his nuptials, he awakens, drugged and confused, only to discover that she has been snatched from his bed. And according to the man who has taken her, he has a limited amount of time to get her back. The clock is ticking… When Stefan Miller finds three Italian gangsters sitting in his suite the morning after Dylan’s wedding, it’s confirmation that his worst fears have come true. His brother’s antics have finally caught up with him and everyone else, including his love-interest, Sasha, who has been held ransom. Now with the clock counting down, he and Dylan must come up with a plan to save the women from impending doom.

Theoretically, it’s a simple operation: Get Stefan’s brother! Engage Dylan’s mob-boss of a mother! Save the girls!

But the rescue effort doesn’t go as smoothly as planned, especially when the puzzle pieces of Dylan’s traumatic past begin to connect. And especially when Stefan discovers that Sasha has fallen under the curious spell of her green-eyed kidnapper.

Series The French Connection, Book 3 of 3

Publication Date January 4, 2019

Publisher Independently Published

Print Length 260 pages

Genres BWWM Romance, Multicultural & Interracial Romance, Contemporary Romance

Add on Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43313848-trois

EXCERPT

Dylan
 
A persistent pounding on the door ripped me out of sleep. I stirred, extra groggy from the fact that Laila had interrupted my slumber to talk about my parents and the announcement of her pregnancy. Her questions about my mother and father had angered me, but I’d hidden it from her, but when she’d told me she was carrying our baby, any negative emotions I’d been harboring fled.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I reached over to the nightstand and gripped the clock, squinting. “It’s five-thirty,” I said to Laila. I reached over to pull her close, but when I realized the place in which she was laying was empty, my eyes popped open.

Bang! Bang!

“Lai…” I called into the darkness. My eyes shot to the en-suite bathroom, noticing the light bleeding from beneath the closed door.

Maybe she’d gotten up to use it. That was what happened to pregnant women. They peed more and they started throwing up. The sound of water running down the drain confirmed my suspicions.

The banging sounded again and I threw my legs over the edge of the bed, holding my head. That was when I realized the banging wasn’t only coming from the door. An aggressive thud was pounding against my brain, and I wondered what it could be from.

I looked at the empty glass on the night table and my brows drew. I turned to the door. “Who is it?” I shouted.

“Open the door, man!”

I stretched the tightness out of my limbs and made my way over, wondering what in the world would have Stefan so uptight and hammering my door down at such an ungodly hour.

“Lai,” I called again.

Still no answer.

I frowned, peeked through the peephole, and then stood back.

Stefan’s voice emitted from the other side of the barrier, and I couldn’t help but notice the alarmed edge in his tone.
I unlatched the door and ripped it open. Without hesitation, Stefan sprang inside, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Stef, what the hell –”

“Where’s Laila?” He pushed past me and started searching the room as if he was looking for treasure.

I frowned, trying to understand what he was talking about, all the while, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head. “What do you mean, where’s Laila? She’s in the bathroom.”

Without saying anything, Stefan dashed for the bathroom and ripped at the door.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded rushing after him, I pulled him by the arm.

He ripped his arm away from me and glared at me. His eyes seeped with anger.

I grimaced. “What’s going on?” I demanded.

“Laila isn’t here,” he spat out.

My neck jerked forward. “Of course she is, she’s in the bathroom,” I reminded him. “She’s pregnant.”

Stefan rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and covered his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ…” he muttered.

“That’s not quite the response I was expecting,” I admitted trying to quell my frustration.

Stefan spun around and gripped me by the shoulders. “Dylan, Laila isn’t here,” he said again. Forcefully.

My body turned rigid. “What the hell do you mean –”

“Your boy, Anthony Moretti, the guy you told me not to worry about…”

He was talking, but I’d already ripped the bathroom door open, almost taking it off the hinges. I looked into the room, my eyes shifting frantically, searching for my wife who, true to Stefan’s word, was nowhere in sight. The only sign of movement was the water spilling from the gold faucet and disappearing down the drain.

My chest heaved and I stumbled until I had no choice but to lean over the basin. Water from the tap splashed onto me. Everything was spinning like it would in a funhouse, yet there was no doubt in my mind, I was in a house of goddamn horrors.

“Where’s my wife?” I gripped my temple before pulling myself away from the basin and storming through the Presidential Suite. I ransacked the place. I tore through every room, tossing the furniture like it was plastic. I marched out to the pool and scanned the area. With each examination, the fact that she was nowhere to be found pushed me further over the edge of sanity.

I screamed her name into the emptiness.

No answer.

Stefan paced the floors next to me. His hand was clasped over his mouth. His eyes were narrow with rage. “He took Sasha too,” he muttered.

I spun around to look at him. “Who took Sasha?”

Stefan turned his eyes on me. “Fucking Moretti.”

I looked at the carpet, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “How do you know this?”

“Because I woke up in the middle of the night to Moretti and his boys in my goddamn room, and that’s when he told me. Silas…”

“What the hell does he have to do with this? I swear to God, I’ll kill him!” I listened, my entire body shaking as Stefan revealed the things Moretti had told him. Then he handed me the man’s business card, his despicable name embossed and emboldened.

Three days.

Moretti was demanding that we came up with two million euros in three days.

An angry breath escaped my nose. “Fine,” I spat. “He wants it in three days, he’ll have it three hours.”

Stefan nodded, realizing that my transferring the funds into Moretti’s account was the only way to put a stop to what was happening.

I raced around the room, looking for my cell phone. After a few minutes, which felt like a few hours, I found it on the floor underneath shards of a vase I’d destroyed.
I instructed SIRI to call my accountant and waited, operating on threads of patience, for him to pick up.

It went to voicemail.

I cursed.

“What happened?” Stefan asked, dry-washing his hands.
I gripped my bottom lip between my teeth and didn’t respond. Instead, I called the number again, this time taking care to punch each digit in manually.

It rang six times before clicking over to voicemail. In a fit of rage, I pitched the phone across the room and took my sweaty hair into my hands.

“Fuck!” My voice almost made the Swarovski chandelier hanging above us to crash to the floor.

Stefan raked his hands through his afro and pulled out his own cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” I asked, shoving my hands on my hips.

“It sure as hell ain’t my investment banker,” he muttered. “The hell if I have two million goddamn euros sitting in an account.” He pressed the phone against his ear. “I’m calling my brother.”

“If you don’t have it, he sure as hell doesn’t,” I spat. My eyes burned and I rubbed them, trying to erase the sensation.
I needed to slow down.

I needed to calm down and think rationally.

Ma belle fille and Sasha had been abducted. I had no idea how it had happened or when. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I couldn’t remember much of what had transpired over the course of maybe three or four hours.

Stefan turned away from me and I listened for a second as he threw a slew of curse words into the cell phone receiver.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to practice my solution-focused mantra, the one I used every day at my firm.

“I need to call Moretti,” I mumbled to myself. My cell phone, now shattered on the ground, would be of no use. I rushed to the landline on Laila’s side of the bed and tried to ignore my heart, crushing inside of my chest. I held the business card Stefan and given me and tried to steady my shaking hands as

I dialed the numbers.

Within seconds, Moretti answered.

I dropped onto the bed and pressed the phone hard against my ear. “Tell me this is a fucking joke!” I shouted into the phone.

“Dylan Hamilton.” The sound of his vocals made me want to spit.

“Where is my goddamn wife?” He’d barely finished his greeting before I was barking the demand. “I swear to God, I’m two seconds away from alerting INTERPOL. They’ll have you apprehended and your ass will be in jail quicker than you can fucking blink!”

“A few things,” Moretti responded casually. “INTERPOL is not a threat to me. Yes, I have been barred from various jurisdictions, but that does not inhibit my movements. Surely, you are aware of this. Secondly, if I were you, I would think long and hard about alerting anybody about anything. Your precious wife and her friend would be dead before the authorities ever caught up with me and my men. And thirdly…” he sighed. “You should practice being less emotional. You are a savvy business tycoon who cuts million-dollar deals by the hour. You, of all people should know that emotion has no place when it comes to business. Let us talk like the adults that we are.”

I gritted my teeth and tried to settle myself as best I could. In some ways he was right. My only concern was getting my wife and Sasha back. If that meant playing Moretti’s sick game, I should at least hear the rules.


Grab your copy of Trois today!


PURCHASE LINKS

Amazon http://bit.ly/TroisBook3

Paperback https://amzn.to/2QlHuAr


ABOUT BROOKLYN KNIGHT

Brooklyn Knight is a romance enthusiast who lives in the island of Bermuda and has been writing stories since she was a little girl. Over the years, her gift for designing and bringing characters to life has evolved, and she enjoys creating vivid, memorable characters and unforgettable situations. Her characters are thought-provoking and evocative; and they will draw emotion out of you like water from a well.

Website

Goodreads

Bookbub

Amazon Author Central

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

Hosted by VanekaMiles PR.

New Release Alert: Hate Notes by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward

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A standalone romance novel published by Montlake Romance

By: New York Times Bestselling Authors Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Release Date: Tuesday, November 6, 2018

SYNOPSIS:

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress.

Something blue.

I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.”

Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there. Because I’ve since found out something else about Mr. Starry-Eyed.

He’s arrogant, cynical, and demanding. I should know. Thanks to a twist of fate, he’s my new boss. But that’s not going to stop me from discovering the story behind his last love letter. A love letter that did not result in a happily ever after.

But that story is nothing compared to the one unfolding between us. It’s getting hotter, sweeter, and more surprising than anything I could have imagined.

Something new.

But I have no idea how this one is going to end . . .

Hate Notes final paperback cover

Photo/Cover Details: 

Photo Credit:  Tijana Vukovic

Model: Dusan Susnjar

Teasers by: Luna Sol

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To read an excerpt of Hate Notes, click here.

Hate Notes Teaser 2

PURCHASE LINKS:

Add to Goodreads ➜ http://smarturl.it/xys920

Amazon ebook https://amzn.to/2Q1U6xa

Amazon Print (Currently on sale!) ➜ http://smarturl.it/x5h99h

Amazon Audio ➜ https://amzn.to/2zR81AE

Amazon print UK (Currently on sale) ➜ http://hyperurl.co/32k3q7

Please Note: Because Hate Notes is published by Montlake Romance, a division of Amazon, the ebook and paperback will only be available on Amazon. If you are an Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited member, the Hate Notes ebook will be free for both Prime and KU members on release day!

Sign up for Penelope & Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live! ➜ https://www.subscribepage.com/Vi&Penelope

Hate Notes Teaser

ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

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Vi Keeland

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in two dozen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Sign up for Penelope & Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live!

 https://www.subscribepage.com/Vi&Penelope

Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948  You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!  

Find Vi here:

Facebook Fan Grouphttps://www.facebook.com/groups/ViKeelandFanGroup/

Facebookhttps://www.facebook.com/vi.keeland

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Vi-Keeland/435952616513958

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Twitter: @vikeelandhttps://twitter.com/ViKeeland

Instagram: @Vi_Keeland – http://instagram.com/Vi_Keeland/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/vi-keeland

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Penelope Ward photo

Penelope Ward

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author.

She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.

With over 1.5 million books sold, she is a twenty-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels.

Sign up for Penelope & Vi’s mailing list now and be the first one notified when it goes live!    https://www.subscribepage.com/Vi&Penelope

Find Penelope here:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/penelope.ward

https://www.facebook.com/penelopewardauthor

Facebook Fan Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/PenelopesPeeps/

Website: http://www.penelopewardauthor.com

Twitter :https://twitter.com/PenelopeAuthor

Instagram: @penelopewardauthor

http://instagram.com/PenelopeWardAuthor/

Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/penelope-ward 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7105545.Penelope_Ward

Other Books From Vi & Penelope:

Co-written Novels

The Rush Series  (2 Book Series)

Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)Rebel Heir

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2JHynHe
iBooks: https://goo.gl/iG6fmD
B&N: http://smarturl.it/ubjd6b
Kobo: https://goo.gl/iU76VK

Rebel Heart (Rush Series Duet #2)Rebel Heart

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KuY8Me
iBooks: https://apple.co/2oleXyJ
B&N: http://smarturl.it/ew2ggj
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2H7FRCm

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British Bedmate

(Previously titled: Dear Bridget, I Want You)
Amazon:  https://amzn.to/2I9CSxm
iBooks:  http://smarturl.it/y4x3xi
B&N:  http://smarturl.it/o780mb
Kobo:  http://smarturl.it/kfgc6a

Cocky Bastard

Cocky Bastard

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2JIy7HT
iTunes: http://apple.co/1PffE2J
B&N: http://bit.ly/1EjxNpY
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Stuck-Up SuitStuck-Up Suit

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KvRMfE
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Qbwy57
B&N: http://bit.ly/29vrQhV
Kobo: http:// bit.ly/1RJdUif

Playboy PilotPlayboy Pilot

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HFAtec
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Wb06Cf
B&N: bit.ly/2caXPEK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2cJDXO1

Mister MoneybagsMister Moneybags

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HFgHzm
iBooks: http://smarturl.it/3y1tuq
B&N: http://smarturl.it/kx7h8m
Kobo http://smarturl.it/qqf5ho
Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]
By:Vi Keeland & Dylan Scott
Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HGMjVw

Vi’s Standalone Novels 

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Vi’s Upcoming January 2019 Release

Bloggers, sign up here.

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The Naked Truth

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Sex not Love

Sex, Not Love

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Beautiful Mistake

Beautiful Mistake

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]

Egomaniac

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Bossman

Bossman

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The Baller

The Baller

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Life on Stage series (2 Standalone Books)

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]

Throb

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00072]

Beat

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MMA Fighter series (3 Standalone Books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter #1)

Worth the Fight

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Worth The Chance (MMA figher #2)

Worth the Chance

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18742801

Worth Forgiving

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Worth it All (MMA Complete Series)

Worth It All (Complete Fighter Series)

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Serials

The Cole Series (2 Book Serial)
Belong to You (Cole #1)

Belong to You

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Made for You (Cole #2)

Made for You

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Penelope’s Standalone Novels

Love Online Ebook

Love Online

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Gentleman NineGentleman Nine

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35604204

Drunk Dial

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Mack DaddyMack Daddy

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RoomHateRoomHate

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Stepbrother Dearest

Stepbrother Dearest

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Neighbor Dearest

Neighbor Dearest

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Jaded and Tyed

Jaded and Tyed (A novelette) 

35696570

Sins of Sevin

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Jake Undone (Jake #1)

Jake Undone

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Jake Understood (Jake #2)

Jake Understood (Jake #2)

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My Skylar

My Skylar

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Gemini

Gemini

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New Release Alert: Who We Were by Melissa Collins

Release Blitz for Who We Were by Melissa Collins
A M/M contemporary romance

NOW AVAILABLE!

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*If you read with Apple, Nook, Kobo, or Google Play – this title will be removed from these retailers and going into KU on Sunday, so grab your copy today!

Who We Were…

Two awkward teenagers – the loner and the nerd, trying to find our place in the world. Paired in wood shop, we knew nothing of each other, except that we wanted to know everything. Then one life altering moment changed it all and we were left with shattered dreams and broken hearts.

Who We Are…

Two grown men – braver and smarter than we used to be, trying to heal the damage from that irrevocable moment. Even though the past was behind us, dead and buried long ago, we found it impossible to move on without ripping open the scars of our deep wounds.

With twelve years of unanswered questions fueling our desperate need for the truth, we must figure out if who we were will destroy who we are.

Add to your TBR on Goodreads here.

 

NOW AVAILABLE!

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Melissa is having a giveaway on Facebook for 2 – $25 Amazon gift cards! Check it out here.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Melissa Collins has always been a book worm. Studying Literature in college ensured that her nose was always stuck in a book. She followed her passion for reading to the most logical career choice: English teacher. Her hope was to share her passion for reading and the escapism of books to her students. Having spent more than a decade in front of a classroom, she can easily say that it’s been a dream.
Her passion for writing didn’t start until more recently. When she was home on maternity leave in early 2012, she read her first romance novel and her head filled with the passion, angst and laughter of the characters who she read about it. It wasn’t long before characters of her own took shape in her mind. Their lives took over Melissa’s brain and The Love Series was born.

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New Release: Path to Passion by Nana Prah

💛 BOOK RELEASE💛

Title: Path To Passion
Author: Nana Prah
Genre: Contemporary Romance


💛


BLURB

The man who broke her heart . . .
Is the man she now needs more than ever!
Heir to his family’s global empire, branding genius Miguel Astacio turns everything into marketing gold. Only his best friend’s sister seems immune to his magic touch. Until Tanya Carrington comes to him to save her floundering nightclub. Miguel is ready to rectify past mistakes. But will his supreme sacrifice win the heart of the woman he loves?
Add to Goodreads: https://goo.gl/hbCASz


BUY LINKS

EXCERPT

Miguel’s blood heated as she gave him a wavering smile. She was just too beautiful, with clear skin marked only by a dark mole at the corner of her nose, angled dark eyes and full lickable lips.

“I mean,” Tanya continued, “I won’t even be able to recognize the place when its completed. Everything sounds incredible, but I may have to draw the line at the cages for dancers.”

He thought she might. “Trust me, if we charge people to dance in them, they will pay. The one rule is that they have to keep their clothes on.”

“We’ll see.” She stared at the screen again with her eyes unblinking “Um…” She rubbed the back of her neck and a light sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. “How much will this cost?”

Now for the heavy convincing. He got up and stood beside her to point at the CCTV screen showing the dance area, which had filled up a little more in the hour they’d been going over his ideas. “I can see this place packed, people waiting all the way up the street trying to get in. VIP area filled with actors, musicians and pro athletes flying in to experience it.”

Unable to resist, he leaned close so they were almost cheek to cheek. Her heat and honeysuckle perfume floated into him, and he turned his head so his starving lips could caress her one more time. He kissed along her jaw until he met the sensitive area of her neck, where he teased her with gentle nips until she moaned. She sprang as far away from him as the room would allow.

What had he been thinking? Why did she affect him this way? She took away his willpower like no other woman had ever done. Thinking became almost impossible when she was around. The desire to smooth his hands over her incredibly silky soft skin drove him to get closer, but he stayed rooted to the spot, watching her rub the goose pimples from her arms.

“Answer the question, Miguel.” He was pleased to hear her voice quiver. “How much will it cost?”

He’d rather discuss the turbulent heat swirling between them, but if she wanted to ignore it then he should, too. “You’ve heard the saying that you have to spend money to make money, right?”

Her slow nod brought her hair forward. He watched as she brushed back the strands he wanted to filter his fingers through, bringing her close so they could fall into the attraction drawing them together.

CONNECT WITH NANA

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Chapter Reveal: Salt by Mara White

 

 

 

 

 

AP new - synopsis.jpg

 

 

Salana Livingston did everything right, from taking her multi-vitamin to kneeling before bed to say her prayers every night. She followed the path her parents had planned before she was born, never questioned the role until the day a bus-load of sweaty kids from the Bronx got dropped at her parent’s horse farm.

Tiago Alcazar knew a life of hard knocks. An incarcerated father, a missing and strung-out mother who left him to rely on his aged grandmother for most of his life.

Tiago runs the mean streets of the neighborhood that raised him, living hand-to-mouth, everyday a gift, if he can just make it.

Burdened by a world that only wants to see her as perfect, Salana finds her greatest confidant in a boy society has labeled as worthless. Their paths cross too many times for their stubborn hearts to deny the connection, but can the delinquent and the debutant defy the odds and overcome the social constructs that condemn them?

Tiago

“I’m telling you, homie! As soon as this bitch-ass arm heals we’re going back to Connecticut. You got the code for the garage, we roll out a Lamborghini and we’re set for life mother fucker!” They were sitting in Chico’s living room. The air was hot and sticky circulated by only a lazy ceiling fan that was covered in years of greasy dust and the dangling remnants of some bygone party streamers. They’d ordered a pizza and demolished the whole thing. Chico was only gaining more of gut rendered immobile by his collarbone break. He had pizza sauce on his tank top. A real gem. A catch—this kid. But the horse ranch trip, the fall, and Tiago’s ride home from the princess were still high on their list of the most exciting things to happen that summer. They rehashed it all, spilling the details to their friends.
“I don’t want to steal her car. I liked that chick,” Tiago said in weak protest. He flipped through the channels now that Chico’s mom had gone out to get groceries and relieved them from endless Telemundo. He left the television on a basketball game and did his best slam dunk swoosh leaping up from the couch.

“Mano, we won’t be stealing from her really if you think about it. That’s her parent’s car—not hers. And what the fuck would she care, she’s got so much money anyway? We’d be doing them a favor taking one of those off their hands.”

“That’s pushing it, Chico. Why don’t we just steal a different car from someone else in the same neighborhood?”

“Cause you got the code for her garage fuck face! Jesus Christ!” Chico hit his forehead exaggeratedly. “How many cars can one family even drive?”

“What you don’t have the guts to break in?”

“Neither do you, bitch. Can you help me take my shirt off so I can take a shower?”

“Fucking baby, you are on your own for that shit cause you stink. Check you later. I gotta go home and check on my Ma anyway.”

“I’d help you if it was the other way around!”

“Never will be, cause I ain’t fucking stupid, bro!” Tiago punched Chico hard in the arm that wasn’t in a sling. He got up and threw the remote at Chico’s belly. “I’ll fucking go if you park that shit downtown and the fuck away from my building. I’ll drive it, but I don’t want to sell it.”

“Deal!” Chico said, smiling triumphantly. Tiago wasn’t giving him a bath. He had to draw the line somewhere.

The tickets for the metro north just about cleaned them out. There must have been irony in the deal, spend all your money on transportation to go steal something that could help you get around and then sell it to make money. Tiago was so nervous his sweat stunk, Chico however, was riding on cloud nine, already ticking off the list of things he was going to buy in his head. Tiago would buy a washing machine for his grandmother, so she wouldn’t have to lug laundry down to the corner, or wash it in the tub with her arthritic hands like she sometimes did.

“’Mijo, there was no laundromat when I was growing up. My mother scrubbed the clothes on a board in the yard, hung it to dry on a line between two trees.”

“Look at your hands, Ma. You not even sixty but your hands are eighty. That’s why.” He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed his book bag off the back of the chair. “I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.”

Tiago had spent countless hours in school daydreaming about being able to provide for his grandmother. Visions of washing machines with a red bow on top, a new refrigerator that didn’t drip or smell. He never imagined what he’d get for himself, just fantasize about the amenities that would make her life easier.

“Shit, this train is huge. The seats look like couches!” Chico couldn’t play it cool to save his life. The kid was green as fuck, not a seasoned car thief. The only thing Chico was good at was remembering stats on baseball cards and eating everyone under the table.

“Bro, we’re trying to not call attention to ourselves, you hear me?” Tiago sat down by the window, the uneasy feeling creeping through his belly. They stuck out like sore thumbs with the evening commuters. Everyone in suits and blazers, reading newspapers, scrolling through stocks on their phones. How could they pull off a car theft with so many witnesses? Every single one of these jerks would remember them. Nobody who looked like them was on their way to Connecticut. Tiago’s gut felt heavier with each mile gained toward their destination. How fucked up was it that they were gonna go after the girl who’d been so kind to them? Rip her off in return? No wonder people branded them as thugs, maybe that’s what they were.

They filed off the train with a million commuters, it was nearing dark when they arrived and everyone rushed to the park and ride lot to get home to their families. Must be nice, Tiago thought. A house and a car, back yard and people acting happy you came home, a jumping dog, kids with spelling tests to show you. Probably a fucking pool to swim in. He’d seen it in the movies and on TV. That wasn’t what happened in his neighborhood. Broken families were the norm, functional ones, the exception. At least half of his friends were being raised by their grandparents. A parent in jail, addicted to drugs, never made it to the States, was plain old down-on-their-luck, were the stories he heard on his block. Domestic violence, child abuse, neglect—those were the cuts that tore families apart.

The park and ride lot emptied just as fast as the train to leave Tiago and Chico standing under the bright sweep of street light looking caught in the headlights. Tiago started walking toward the street and Chico followed him. He had a good sense of direction and he knew Salana’s house, her estate, was walking distance from the train station. Walking distance in a town where nobody walked. Again they stuck out like strobe lights ambling along the side of a residential street with no fucking sidewalk.

“These people probably gonna call the police on us just because of how we look. Probably got cameras set up.”

They walked for twenty minutes, the houses bordering the streets becoming more and more opulent, the gates taller, the security tighter. Tiago recognized Salana’s house as soon as they neared. Not because he’d cased the place to steal, but because he’d wanted to see her again, to return to the spot under different circumstances. He’d imagined himself as her boyfriend countless times in his head.

“It’s this one up here with the all the lights on. How we gonna stay hidden when they got that place lit up like a stadium?”

“We crawl on the border and then stand up and sprint to get to the garage.” Chico flicked his cigarette and the cherry bounced on the street and spewed sparks. The kid had watched too many action flicks.

“Bet the fucking gate is wired,” Tiago said. He was getting cold feet.

“We move fast. That way if we trigger the gate, by the time they get there to check it out, we’re basically already in the garage with our pick of cars.” Tiago thought Chico was being unrealistically optimistic. Grand Theft Auto had inflated his ego to carjacker extraordinaire, when in reality the most he’d ever stolen was a handful of cash out of the collection plate at church. Their luck peaked in the unexpected arrival of a car, it’s lights looming larger out of the darkness. The driver signaled and pulled into Salana’s driveway. A young man stuck his head out and said something into the intercom. He smiled like a million bucks and Tiago already hated him. Fucking Hitler haircut, first car—a Tesla. But what really made him want to smash the guy’s head in was the idea of him touching Salana, her laughing at his jokes. Tiago would fight with bloody fists for her, that douche would throw his money in the air as a distraction and start crying before someone even hit him.

The boys crouched and ran, slipped through the gates right before they closed. As they approached the house, it became apparent they’d crashed some kind of party. The half-moon driveway was crowded with parked cars, not a Ford or a Toyota in sight. The sickest cars Tiago and Chico had ever seen. They stared openly, the lighted up mansion, the driveway turned car showroom. Drake was sounding from a top of the line stereo reverberating through the walls and bursting forth into the still night and the silence of the suburbs. They were slow to process that this was real life. Sure they’d seen it in music videos and placed themselves in the role of protagonist in plenty of daydreams, why not? Honey’s with string bikinis, pouring out label Champagne into the hot tub, the ice and gold, the cars, the clothes, the sunglasses that cost as much as their family’s annual food budget. But that was fantasy and this was someone’s real life.

“Salt is a fucking pimp, bro. She’s straight up balling that bitch,” Chico said, jaw on the floor.

“Good. They won’t even miss the car,” Tiago said. His voice was full of rancor. He felt jealously swim in his bloodstream—toxic—like the sewage that overflowed into the Hudson during a rainstorm. He strutted across the brightly lit, meticulously manicured lawns like a boss, pimp limp fired, repping the dignity of who he was in the face of this great wealth.

“Yo, Tiago, wait up!” Chico yelled. Chico’s ambling limp was real on account of his one arm still braced in a sling and useless. They were a ramshackle crew. No guns, knives or experience, just hood attitude bolstered by the accomplishment of seeing the task this far through—they’d made it to Connecticut, it was worth something.

Tiago’s hair stood on end and nerves seesawed in his stomach. He wasn’t afraid, but rather on high alert, excited, reckless and ruthless, ready to take someone down just for looking at him the wrong way. A car door slammed and Chico and Tiago both froze. A tall blond guy in a sweater vest looked at them inquisitively.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked. The guy threw his joint to the ground. Tiago could smell the sweet burn of weed, but to his seasoned nose he could also tell it wasn’t good. Not like the premium he could get these rich kids. Sell it for more, take them all for a ride and then roll around in cash like a dog in mud from the profits.

How the hell would they pull off taking a car now? Tiago didn’t even know what they were there for anymore. What if they missed the last train back to the city? Would they sleep in the station like bums? And what if they got arrested? His grandmother wasn’t capable of making a trip all the way to Connecticut to bail him out for trespassing.

“Salana around?” Tiago asked the guy staring them down. The way the words took a bite out of his heart made him realize stealing cars was pretense all along. He’d only wanted to see her, to stroke her blonde hair, to rub his nose against her little one and have his insides turned out. But if he had to break the law to see her, he would.

“It’s her fucking party. She know you’re coming?”

The guy was wearing loafers. He had to answer to a guy wearing loafers and a sweater vest. A fucking asshole Mr. Rogers was what he was.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Chico screeched at him. Tiago’s pants felt heavy, his kicks impossibly clunky, he couldn’t remember if he’s put on cologne or deodorant for that matter. His shirt was clean, but it was old and suddenly felt so cheap to have Billionaire Boy’s Club emblazoned across the front of his chest, when he was in the presence of the real Billionaire’s Club. It didn’t help that the guy stared at them like unsavory rats that had wandered across his clean pasture.

“Can you get Salana for us? Tell her we’re in the garage when she gets a chance?”

“Why don’t you wait here,” the guy said quickly texting on his phone. Tiago walked toward the garage anyway; he couldn’t stand to be scrutinized by the judgmental mother fucker anymore.

“Ti, bro. I swear to fucking God you lost your mind!” Chico said as Santiago disabled the alarm on the garage. There were cameras, two he could see plainly right over the door.

“Let’s bounce. This is crazy,” Chico said. He didn’t want to go to jail he liked his mother’s cooking too much. He loved sitting in the sun and playing basketball in the park for twenty-three hours a day as opposed to one. “I’m out!” Chico said, turned on a dime and ran.

“Ditch me, why don’t you, when the going gets tough?” Tiago wanted to scream, Unleash the hounds! But he wasn’t so mean he’d want his friend to pee his pants.

Tiago decided to go through the motions. He chose the Rover for the resale ease and value. It was unlocked and the door opened smooth like honey. All the keys were in the lockbox by the door, just as they had been when Salana did it all in front of him. Like a temptress, like an invitation to take one.

Here’s the big red juicy apple. I know you’re starving. Bite it!

There was something about the feel and smell of brand new that was extraordinarily pleasing, that gave an air of authority and power without doing a thing. Wealth and pipe dreams of attaining it could be as addictive as a drug and probably just as dangerous. He was about to slide into the driver’s seat when someone grabbed him from behind. He cursed, angry at himself for having let his guard down. One held him back against the car, while the other, the blond, knocked his fist into Tiago’s face, hitting him just below the nose. Not a trained fighter, just beginner’s luck that he made contact. It was a weak punch but it landed and stung like a bitch. Tiago heaved his shoulders forward to throw off the one he couldn’t see. The taste of blood in his mouth made him vicious and he landed a punch right in Vest and Loafer’s gut that promptly knocked the wind out of him. Tiago was used to fighting dirty and street. He’d been in scuffles on the corner since first grade. The boys in Connecticut had never taken a real beating.

“Call the police!” the guy shouted at his friend.

“Don’t fucking call the police!” Tiago responded almost casually. “Why call the cops? Because we hit each other? Come on! Don’t be a pussy.”

“Then get the fuck out of here right now! Leave!” Loafer’s feathers were ruffled, his face was red and his hair disheveled.

“Did you tell Salana like I told you too, bitch?”

“I’m right here,” she said. Salana walked into the garage and put her hand on Loafer’s arm.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” Tiago said. “Alone.”

He wiped his hand across his mouth, it felt warm and burned. There was blood on the back of his hand and he spat blood on the floor gaining a look of fury from the handsome boys.

“Brandt, just go. It’s fine, I know him.”

“If you fucking touch her, you’re a dead man,” Brandt pointed his finger at Santiago like his threat carried weight. Tiago spat again. “Piece of shit, thug,” Brandt muttered as he turned to go.

Once alone, the silence between them rose up and expanded like leavened bread in an oven, filling even the dark corners and the ceiling above them. They stood ten feet away from one another and took the other in. Tiago clenched his fists and Salana watched blood drip from his split lip. She cut across the space first and grabbed his chin so as to better inspect his face.

“You’re bleeding,” she said. “Come inside, we can put something on it.”

“Give me a minute to cool down so I don’t kill your friend, Salt.”

“Why did you come here, Tiago? You should have at least called.”

“To steal a car. You let me see that code. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and looked relatively unaffected by what he said.

“Take one if you want, but I’m sure there will be repercussions.”

“Naw, when I got here, I realized what I really wanted was to steal you instead.”

He saw her pupils dilate. He heard how her breath caught in her chest. He felt tingly all over like he might pass the fuck out at her feet after one bitchass punch.

“Come on, let’s get your face cleaned up.” She took his hand and led him around the side of the huge estate.

“We’ll just go downstairs and that way we can avoid Brandt and the others.” Salana punched in another code and allowed Tiago to see it. He felt like he had to memorize those numbers because they were symbolic of her letting him in. Seeing those numbers meant something. Code for: trust. Cipher for: I accept you just as you are.

He followed her down a sweeping staircase and into what looked like a basement entertainment room. A pool table, leather couches, a full bar and a fireplace. Basically a space he and his friends would sacrifice their left nuts for. Salana flicked on stained-glass low hanging lights in the basement room which was bigger than his entire apartment.

“The bathroom is right there, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

The lights rose by themselves as he stepped into the bathroom, a room so spotless and sparkling it nearly strained his eyes. Salana’s life looked like a Hollywood set whereas his looked like a public service announcement for the dangers of drug use. He ran his hand underwater to wash off the blood.

“Sit up here,” Salana said, patting the counter sink. She ran a white washcloth under warm water and brought it to his lip. “I’m sorry he punched you,” she whispered as she dapped at the gash.

“Probably deserved it,” he said through the towel. “What’s the occasion for the party?”
Salana squirted some ointment on her finger and brought it to his upper lip.

“Oh, my friend Justine’s birthday. She’s upstairs. My parents are in Europe so everyone decided to come here.” She tried to touch the bleeding gash and Tiago grabbed her wrist. She stopped and made eye contact.

“You’re so fucking fine, Salt. I can’t stop thinking about you. I wouldn’t steal from you. I just wanted to see you.” His grip on her wrist was tight, because his confession felt important. He usually let a girl know he was into her with body language, lingering hands and soft words in her ear, but with Salana he told her as if he were in the confessional. “I like you and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.”

Who knew honesty could feel like getting run over by a steam roller. Cracking your head open and letting the rabid butterflies escape to fly upwards in a swarm. It was almost too much for him. Butterflies? They were bats and he was a goner.

Her lips were parted and she stared intently at his face. Her blue eyes flared with emotion and his searched her face for even a hint of reciprocation. “I know it ain’t even possible. I just wanted to let you know how I felt, and shit.”
“I—” was all she could get out
“You can go back to your party, back to Branch. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Salana blinked and her eyes were filling with tears. She closed them and leaned into Tiago. He caught her face in his hands and his lips found hers. The kiss was so soft and ghostly like a whisper—almost nothing—until it wasn’t and then, it was real, it was perfect, it was fucking everything.

She gasped when he took her whole mouth, prying open the seam of her lips with his tongue. Tiago kissed like a carnivore. Wolf-mouth. No rich-pansy orthodontist’s dream. He came from real life. His cut was the ghetto. He kissed projects and food stamps and lives that were cut short. He kissed give.it.all.to.me.now because punk-ass-bitches steal what doesn’t belong to them. His hands went to her hair, soft like silk and cool like the flip side of a pillow. He wanted to eat her, make a meal out of her flesh and touch the raw center of her heart after he’d consumed her.

“Fuck,” he whispered into her mouth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

His dick was already hard, pressing against his jeans with an urgency that was painful. He’d blow his load from her tongue alone like a fucking kid looking at a Hustler under the covers with a flashlight.

“God, I want you so bad,” he lamented. Was he kissing for the first time? No, but it fucking felt like it.

His fingers speared through her hair cupping her ears and the back of her skull as he devoured her mouth and pulled her to him, registering nothing, only desperate for more. Tiago hopped down from the counter, scooped Salana up and placed her where he’d been. Jerking her forward by the hips he brought her flush with his erection. Salana opened her eyes wide suddenly, the blue piercing right through him. Her eye contact sent a surge of power to his groin. He leaned into her again and thumbed her nipples through her white cotton shirt. Salana tipped her head back and mewled. The heat coming from her center made him lose control. He couldn’t stand how erotic she looked, head thrown back, nipples tipped to the ceiling and her long hair almost touching the sink behind her. His blood smeared on her full lips made his stomach muscles clench with something forbidden and primal.

“Stop,” she said still kissing him. “Stop!” she pushed at his chest this time and he backed all the way up to the wall.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Shit, Salana. I’m sorry, I lost control.” His longing was so fierce that kissing her felt like survival. He was the hunter, she was the doe. He didn’t want to kill her, but he wanted to make the damn shot even if it killed him in the process.
She shook her head and wiped at her mouth with her fingers.

His chest heaved like he’d been running, but he was standing there in her bathroom, palms upturned like a fucking idiot. That kiss meant the world to him.
“I’ll show myself out. I shouldn’t have come.”

 

 

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Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

 

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New Release: Salt by Mara White

 

 

 

 

 

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Salana Livingston did everything right, from taking her multi-vitamin to kneeling before bed to say her prayers every night. She followed the path her parents had planned before she was born, never questioned the role until the day a bus-load of sweaty kids from the Bronx got dropped at her parent’s horse farm.

Tiago Alcazar knew a life of hard knocks. An incarcerated father, a missing and strung-out mother who left him to rely on his aged grandmother for most of his life.

Tiago runs the mean streets of the neighborhood that raised him, living hand-to-mouth, everyday a gift, if he can just make it.

Burdened by a world that only wants to see her as perfect, Salana finds her greatest confidant in a boy society has labeled as worthless. Their paths cross too many times for their stubborn hearts to deny the connection, but can the delinquent and the debutant defy the odds and overcome the social constructs that condemn them?

 

AP  new -about the author.jpg

 

 

Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

 

Author Links

 

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