Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Blog Tour: Club Prive: French Connection Vol. II by M.S. Parker

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ClubPriveFrenchConnectionII

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Synopsis

A trip to France was supposed to fix everything for Gavin and me. Two weeks in one of the most romantic places on Earth should've been a dream come true. Instead, it was turning out to be a nightmare. When Carrie arrives at her hotel to find two naked women in bed, claiming that Gavin invited them, she thinks things can't get any worse. Then she meets Adrienne, yet another gorgeous woman who has her sights set on Carrie's man. To distract herself from her boyfriend's constant interaction with these women, Carrie teams up with Pierre, a handsome local journalist trying to uncover a sex trafficking ring in the Cannes. Despite a renewal of passion in their sex life, Carrie can't help but wonder if this is the beginning of the end for her and Gavin. You won't want to miss the second book in M.S. Parker's sizzling series, Club Privé: French Connection.

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Buy Links


* CLUB PRIVE SERIES *

Club Prive Vol. I (Free): http://amzn.to/1rGlvqP

Club Prive Vol. II: http://amzn.to/1z43bGS

Club Prive Vol. III: http://amzn.to/127w8HG

Club Prive Vol. IV: http://amzn.to/1z43oKe

Club Prive Vol. V: http://amzn.to/1y90Jlm

Club Prive: French Connection Vol. I: http://amzn.to/1w4YXB5

Also available on Barnes & Noble, iBooks, & Kobo

About Author

M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn't retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading- oops, scratch that! She is always writing.

Author Links


Tour Host OUAA

Blog Tour {Excerpt + Giveaway}: Always by Suzanne Halliday



Title: Always
Author: Suzanne Halliday
Release Date: Dec 1, 2014

Synopsis

Meet Stephanie Bennett
The one-time beauty queen and widowed mother of Tori St. John, arrives at the Marquez Villa to be with her feisty daughter and husband Draegyn, as they count down the days to the arrival of their first child.
It all seemed so simple. Arizona would be a nice change of pace from Stephanie’s life in Atlanta.

And then she meets Calder Dane

Alex’s down-to-earth doppelgänger of an uncle takes over day-to-day operations of the agency so his nephew can focus on his upcoming wedding.

It all seemed so simple. Calder was close to Alex, loved being in Arizona and was happy to help out.

Sparks fly when these two meet because nothing is ever simple with Family Justice!

Alex and Meghan

The foundation of the expanding Justice family is blissfully enjoying their engagement with loads of wicked sexy times and a bit of match-making thrown in to keep things interesting!

Draegyn and Victoria

In what feels like the tenth month of a difficult pregnancy, the couple face challenges that put a strain on their happiness. Can their unconventional love survive?

Cameron and Lacey

It’s all good at the Cameron household as their love story continues. Dylan’s growing like a weed, Lacey takes to motherhood like a champ and Cam? Color him – happy.

Get ready for Brody Jensen to drop a bomb about his past while Parker Sullivan is revealed to have more to do with the Marquez family than just being Alex’s oldest friend!


There’s never a dull moment with Family Justice!




BUY LINKS:


Excerpt

Meghan watched as Alex swiftly exited the room, pulling the door almost completely shut on his way out. She wiggled her fingers to keep the blood flowing and danced around on the balls of her feet, taking in every little thing about the tack room. She even eyed the strange sawhorse-looking thing and decided that with a blanket thrown over it, the height would be perfect for what she had in mind. Hell, he could even tie her hands to the legs so she couldn’t get up at all. That would be fun.
A minute passed. Then another and another. Figuring he must have run into the barn where a cooler of water bottles was always on hand, Meghan hummed a little tune and looked forward with anticipation to when her wicked fiancé would return. Her reaction to the riding crop surprised the hell out of her. She was in no way a masochist—any more than Alex harbored hidden sadistic tendencies. Their kinky fun times were more suggestive than anything else. It just ramped up her excitement knowing she was helpless while he messed with her.
The door pushed open and she spun around, her hands gripping the jute where it was looped over the hook above her head. Only it wasn’t Alex standing in the doorway. It was a shocked and horrified looking Draegyn who was losing all the color in his face as he stood there, slack-jawed, taking in her appearance.
Oh, my God, she thought. This was just too damn funny for words.
“Hey Drae,” she chirped as if nothing weird was going on. “You’re back! Nice black eye, by the way.”
The usually unflappable security operative with the 007 reputation was speechless. And embarrassed. Meghan was trying not to laugh like crazy.
“Um, Alex will be right back,” she told him. “He just went to get something.”
All of a sudden, he whirled away so she was talking to his back. “Jesus Meghan,” he muttered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She giggled and said, “I don’t think we were expecting you back so early.”
“Look, tell Alex I’m, uh, home. I’ll talk to him later.” And with that he all but ran as Meghan struggled not to dissolve in a fit of laughter.
* * *
Alex was hurrying back to the tack room, carrying two bottles of cold water and the riding crop. As he came around a corner at the end of the long passageway, he ran head first into a fast moving object.
What the fuck? Draegyn?
“It’s your own damned fault,” Drae yelled at him. “I do security for a living god dammit. Fuck Alex!”
“Whoa, whoa,” Alex drawled. “Slow the fuck down and hello to you, too.”
The dark, almost malevolent glare Drae threw at him got his eyebrows bumping together.
“When a door that is normally locked is left ajar, I’m going to check it out, you dumb motherfucker. Just be glad I didn’t do it with a gun drawn.” Drae was practically unglued and barking like a mad dog.
Alex shook his head. What the fuck was he bitching about? An unlocked door? Ohhhhh. Shit! Meghan. Glancing down the dark passage he suddenly understood why Drae was almost hyperventilating.
Thumping him on the chest, Drae snarled again, “Your own damn fault,” then stomped away with a deep growl.
Hurrying to the tack room, Alex pushed open the door and found his sexy fiancée dangling like she had a starring role in Fifty Shades of Barnyard Fuckery with a laugh evident on her face. Thank fucking God she was still dressed and all his brother really got an eyeful of was her bra, and of course, the way she was tied and hung from the ceiling.
“Honey, I think Drageyn’s home,” she giggled.
They both roared with laughter for a full two minutes until Alex closed the door and locked it, uncapped the water bottle, and held it to her mouth for a long sip.
“Now, where were we?” he asked silkily.




About the Author

Suzanne Halliday writes what she knows and what she loves – sexy adult contemporary romance with strong men and spirited women. Her love of creating short stories for friends and family has developed into a passion for writing romantic fiction with a sensual edge. She finds the world of digital, self-publishing to be the perfect platform for sharing her stories and also for what she enjoys most of all – reading. When she’s not on a deadline you’ll find her loading up on books to devour.
Currently a wanderer, she and her family divide their time between the east and west coast, somehow always managing to get the seasons mixed up. When not digging out from snow or trying to stay cool in the desert, you can find her in the kitchen, 80’s hair band music playing in the background, kids running in and out, laptop on with way too many screens open, something awesome in the oven, and a mug of hot tea clutched in one hand.



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Thursday, December 11, 2014

Release Day Blitz (Music Video + Giveaway}: The Ballad by Ashley Pullo




Title: The Ballad: Book Two
Author: Ashley Pullo
 Release Date: December 11, 2014

Synopsis

Two Lovers.

Two Dreamers.

One Love Song.


Locations: New York City (Cobble Hill, Brooklyn Heights, TriBeCA) Las Vegas, San Francisco

Setting: 2003-Present day

Characters:
Chloe LeGrange Ford - talented musician craving resolve
Adam Ford - handsome attorney longing for a revelation
Natalie LeGrange Brooks - creative free-spirit dreaming of the stars
Chris Brooks - sexy Texan waiting for the right time

Objective:
Authentic situations and original characters capture the intimate moments in a timeless love story.

Themes:
Patience, impulse, pride, joy, and undeniable sexual attraction.

Genre:
Indie/Romance/Drama/Humor

The Ballad is a love song following dreamers and lovers over a span of ten years. Set against the picturesque backdrop of New York City and paired with a reverse narrative, their story is an original retelling of what it means to find the happily ever after in the midst of the journey.




Links to Buy


AMAZON US / UK
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1GeIThX


Also Available


$1.99 for Release Day Only

AMAZON US / UK


Music Video




Author Bio

Fifteen years ago I became a permanent New Yorker, but I've yet to abandon my Texas charm. NYC is an amazing place to find inspiration - the random and the ordinary that make up reality. My writing showcases inspired ideas, as well as my love for dichotomy, authenticity and humor. 

I'm just a girl. A girl with a dream. A dream to write for television. I also had a dream to marry Christian Bale, but I digress. I'm a girl with a dream to write and write and write until someone tells me to stop. And even then I would find a way to write about the jerk who wanted me to stop.

Blog Tour {Review + Giveaway}: Easy Virtue by Mia Asher




Blurb

Love is selfish...

My name is Blaire.
I'm the bad girl.
The other woman.
The one who never gets the guy in the end.

I'm the gold digger.
The bitch.
The one no one roots for.
The one you love to hate.

I hate myself too...


Everyone has a story. Are you ready for mine?






Are you ready for Blaire?
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1rSEK0k




My Review

Mia, you have left me hungry for more. Again!


You scared me (for life!) with Arsen and then you go and write EV! My heart can't take it anymore! I never liked love triangle because, let face it, they can be annoying. But with Mia's books their is just something about her writing makes me fall in love with with both men. Like, how could you not fall in love with this:

"Do you ever not say the right things?"

"I don't know."

He looks at me, his gaze penetrating and full of something I understand but don't want to acknowledge.

"Maybe it's because you make me feel all the right things, Blaire."



**Cue the swooning!!!**


Or how could you not be dripping wet after this:



Running a hand through my hair, I watch as Lawrence closes the space between us in two strides. He learns down and cups my face in his hands.  his touch is sure and commanding, and I love it.



"I'm done talking, Blaire. Get on your knees."


**OMG!!!!!!!!!!**


She brings out so many emotions out of me that I'm just a withering mess at the end and yet I would not change it for the world. Mia Asher you wreck me.



I thought I know what I was in for when beginning Easy Virtue, but the truth is one can never be prepared enough when starting a Mia Asher book. Right away this book captured my attention with merely the first sentence.



Blaire White was never loving by her parents as a child and for that it caused her pain. That pain later turned into bitterness. Her need to feel loved turned her into the person we meet. Blaire still sees herself as a cubby little girl who used to get bullied. She does not believe in love. She uses her beauty to her full advantage by seducing rich men into providing for her in-exchange for sex. She uses her sex appeal to feed all her insecurities. Throughout all of this we meet these amazing men.

On the one hand you have a guys named Ronan who is charming, sexy, and all the things Blaire should stay away from because he make her want thing she never knew she wanted. And on the other hand you have Lawrence. Rich, hot, and understand that it's just sex.
Mia Asher, you my friend have done it again. I will literally read anything you give me. You write so beautifully and I can;t wait for book 2!

My rating:




Excerpt


With champagne and caviar inundating my every sense, I slither through the light wooden floors of the Lila Acheson Wallace Wing in The Met. As I walk, I pretend to admire the expensive jewelry being showcased tonight by a famous designer whose name I can’t remember. A multicolored diamond butterfly sparkles to my left and a cobra made out of black stones glistens to my right. Rows upon rows of precious gems twinkle under the soft lights of the room, flooding the space between the walls with the glow of a thousand stars. Furtive glances. Secrets gossiped. Beauty criticized. Lofty music fills the atmosphere as the über rich mingle and pretend to like each other, yet you can almost taste their conceit and derision for one another in the air.
          This is Walker’s world, and I love it.
          Standing across the room, where the crowd is thinner and the music fainter, I spot Walker’s blond head in the corner of the room, talking to a group of his colleagues and their wives. He looks polished and worth every penny of his trust fund in his sleek black tuxedo, perfectly starched white shirt and black bowtie. His long golden hair parted to the side shines like the sun. He is truly flawless.
          I smile because it’s hard to picture that this is the same guy who likes to snort coke off my tits as he fucks me while hardcore porn plays in the background. He looks untouchable and so cool, but his searching eyes, scanning the crowd for me give him up. He’s wondering where I am. He did tell me not to go too far, after all. Soon after we arrived at the party, I gave him some space to talk to his friends and do his thing while I did mine. I hate clingy people, so I avoid being one.
          I grab a third flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and try to decide which of the different displays to check out first when my eyes land on a spectacular piece of jewelry. On a bed of black silk, similar to my hair color, lies an extravagant necklace made of diamonds and rubies—a small heaven within one’s reach as long as you can afford the price.
          I bridge the space between the glass protecting the necklace and me until it’s within my reach, fighting the urge to touch the cool surface. As if under a spell, I observe how the rows of diamonds embedded in platinum form leaves and thorns. At its center is a rose made out of red diamonds almost as big as my palm.
          I feel someone walk up and stand next to me, but I don’t give him or her a second thought as I continue to admire the way the light hits the gems, making them shine.
          “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
          His voice is smooth and commanding, dripping absolute power. I keep my eyes locked on the display. Call it sixth sense, but somehow I know that under no circumstance should I make eye contact with the stranger who speaks like the ruler of the world.
          “Yes,” I say simply.
          “I wonder how much it is?” the man asks.
          “I don’t think it matters … I highly doubt anyone can afford it.”
          He chuckles, and the sound is more delicious than his voice. Lusher. “Oh, but I can.”
          I smile at his self-assurance. I love cocky assholes. “I still doubt it.”
          “You shouldn’t. I only speak the truth,” he retorts coolly. His voice is nonchalant yet his words leave no room for disbelief—a demand and a statement all in one.
          Suddenly, the noises of the room become distant. People talking and laughing amongst friends and the orchestra playing all fade away until all I hear is him speaking.
          And at this moment, that is all that matters.
          “The truth is very subjective, sir.”
          “The truth may be subjective but money isn’t. Money can buy anything.”  
          His answer is like an electroshock, jumpstarting my brain from a champagne-induced haze. My pulse begins to accelerate, excitement making it hard to take a deep breath. Don’t look at him … don’t.
          “Oh really,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s right, though.
          “Of course. I believe everything,” he pauses, “and everyone has a price.”
          Curiosity winning the battle against curiosity, I turn to face him, and what a fucking big mistake that is. When our eyes meet, I feel incapacitated of all sense and movement. The sight of him takes my breath away. This man gives the term “lust at first sight” a whole new meaning.
           In my short twenty-three years, I’ve been with extremely handsome men, perfect even, but to classify the man standing next to me in any kind of category would be a disservice to him, and not really fair to the others. Longish, light brown hair wildly framing his face, vacant eyes the color of dollar bills, a slightly crooked nose, and a mouth that begs to be buried deep within your thighs. His beauty is as harsh as it is stunningly perfect. Dressed in a simple black tuxedo and unbuttoned white shirt, the man exudes innate virility and grace, reminding me of a black panther stalking his prey. And just like a panther, it’s the pure raw and powerful energy emanating from within him that I find most attractive. Because just by standing next to him, I get the sense that his word is always the last spoken and his wishes the first ones to be fulfilled. He doesn’t ask, he demands. He doesn’t hope, he expects.
           He’s quiet for a moment; his uncanny eyes hold me captive as though they are baring my soul to him and I hate it. I tighten my hold on the crystal flute. I want to look away, but I can’t. The way he’s staring at me makes me want to squirm.
          “I wonder … do you have one?” he asks softly before turning to examine the piece of jewelry once more.
          “A what?” I ask, momentarily stunned.
          He smiles. “A price.”
          “For the right amount … I just might,” I say quietly, my heart beating so fast it feels as though it wants out of my chest. As soon as the words leave my mouth, there’s no shock coursing down my body, no rolling waves of shame pulling me down for having said that to a complete stranger—nothing.
          And why should there be? I am who I am.
          I’m staring at his profile, waiting for him to acknowledge my answer, when a breeze of cool air floats past us, making me shiver. About to chase the goose bumps on my arm with my hand, I watch as he slowly turns to look at me, catching me staring at him. Time stands still as I watch him raise his large tanned hand and touch my bare shoulder, his fingertips lightly grazing the temporary small bumps covering it. Then he smiles as if he knows that my skin is tingling from his scalding touch, and looks away.
          “I thought so.”
          We remain standing next to each other for another minute or so, the distance between us almost nonexistent. It would be so easy to reach out and hold his hand. The sound of an incoming call breaks the silence, bringing us back to reality.
          He takes his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and ignores the call after noting the name of the caller. He lifts his gaze to meet my own.
“Sorry about that.”
          “It’s okay. I should go … I’m here with someone,” I reply, not really wanting to leave him just yet.
          “Yes, that’s probably a good idea.”
          I frown. He didn’t have to be quite so blunt. The stranger extends a hand toward me, holding something in his fingers.
          “Here … ”
          I open my hand as I feel the edges of what I assume is his business card poke the skin of my palm. “What’s this?” I ask stupidly.
          “My business card, of course.”
          “Obviously … but why?”
          He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m an interested buyer.”
          And then he’s gone.
          He turns and walks away from me, disappearing into a sea of colorful gowns and black suits. As the sounds of the party infiltrate my ears once more, I lower my gaze to stare at the simple cream-colored card in my hand. Its simplistic and elegant design draws attention to the name printed in bold black letters on the paper.
          Lawrence Rothschild.
          I smile and let my fingertips trail his name. It depends on what you’re willing to pay, Mr. Rothschild.

Published by Mia Asher

Copyright © 2013 by Mia Asher




About the Author:

Mia Asher
My name is Mia Asher.
I'm a writer, a hopeless romantic, a wanderer, a dreamer, a cynic, and a believer. And, oh yes…I might be a bit crazy - but who isn't?


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Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Cover Reveal{Excerpt}: Striving for Acceptance by B.L. Mooney



Title: Striving for Acceptance
Series: Striving #3
Author: B.L. Mooney
Cover Design: Kari Ayasha at Cover to Cover Designs
 Release Date: December 26, 2014
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23211188-striving-for-acceptance

Synopsis


Third in the Striving Series, but can be read alone.

We all want to feel accepted, but sometimes we do unacceptable things. When we push it too far and do the unforgivable, are we still allowed to hope for that acceptance?

Or are we doomed to accept a life of loneliness?

My current bed friend is someone who’s struggling to find his own acceptance. His big crime? He’s following his dreams. His father can’t accept the fact he no longer wants to follow in his footsteps. Should he be shut out because he quit the family business? I don’t think so. But if he should, I’ve got bigger problems.

My crime?

I cheated on my husband and then killed the man I cheated with. Would you still accept me?

Ages 18+ due to adult situations and violence.



Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK

Available Now


FREE

AMAZON US / UK



AMAZON US / UK

Excerpt




“Could you hand me another clay pot, please?” I was crouched down, getting the displays ready for opening day. Never mind it was still three weeks away. I needed to keep busy.
The pot appeared before me and I grabbed it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I turned my head to the male voice and was inches from a bulge I’d gotten used to having in my face. I hadn’t seen what the bulge was made of yet, but he sure liked thrusting it in my face every chance he could.
I snipped the shears I had in my hand. “You’re very brave to come that close.” He backed up. “That’s what I thought.”
I stood and looked at him. His curly blond hair needed a cut, as usual, and the smirk on his face needed to be smacked off. I tilted my head to the side and wondered what he would look like without the scruff he tried to pass off as a beard. Why should I care what he would look like? I shook my head.
“What do you need, Mick? I’m busy.”
“I just thought I’d see if you needed help.”
“As I’ve told you the other fifty times you’ve come over, no. I’ve got everything under control.”
He rocked back on his heels and looked around. “It does look good.”
“Thank you.”
My sister, Rachael, came from the back and smiled. We were complete opposites. She had long, wavy blonde hair while my hair was black and cut short. You might have been able to tell we were from the same gene pool if I showed my body off the way she did, but I liked to keep things a little more under wraps compared to her curve-hugging style. Besides, I’d always been the more casual type and she was all about the latest styles. It looked good on her, but I’ve got better things to worry about than clothes.
The other thing which set us apart was the fact she was friendly. I wasn’t. “Hey, Mick, what brings you over?”
“Just being neighborly.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to work on another display. “We’ve got it. Thanks for stopping by.”
Rachael waited until he left. “You’re not very nice to him.”
“He isn’t someone I want to be nice to.”
“I think you could be very nice to each other.” She smiled. “I’ve tried to get Carl to grow some scruff like that. It’s sexy. The least you could do is play nice with him and tell me if it—”
“Look, he’s the lease-holder. I don’t need to be caught up in that. Plus, he’s a little rude, always pushing his cock in my face.”
Her hands fell to her sides. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, it’s always there.”
She smiled. “Maybe you’re just always looking.”
“Don’t you have to pick up Amy?”
“Shit.” She looked at her watch. “I really do, but this conversation isn’t over.”
I mumbled, “It is for me.”

~*~

I had just finished wiping down the counter even though I’d already cleaned it a dozen times. I wasn’t ready to go home. I wanted to make sure it was perfect for opening day.
There was a small tap on the door. “Let me in already!” Mick yelled.
I rolled my eyes and walked over to the door. “It’s unlocked. Just open—” I opened it to see him balancing two plates and two glasses of wine. He walked past without an invitation. “What are you doing?”
“Come over and help me.”
Curiosity got the better of me. I walked over and watched as he turned his ass to me. “Take out the tablecloth, will you? It’s a little big, but if you keep it folded in half, it should fit the counter.”
I took the tablecloth from his back pocket and laid it out as he said to. “What are you doing?”
“Dinner.” He set the plates and glasses down. “You never leave for dinner or have anything ordered in.” He looked me over. “You’re too thin.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?”
“You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to run a company by yourself. You need to take care of yourself or you have no business taking care of anything else.”
He handed me a napkin with a fork and knife and pointed to the plate. I watched him grab a couple of stools for us. “Eat.” He sat on his stool and dug in. “Are you going to tell me you don’t like steak?”
I shook my head. I sat down and looked at the steak, baked potato, and green beans. “I’m just trying to figure out what your motive is.”
“Money.”
I looked up. “You want me to pay you for this.”
“No, I want you to pay for your lease, and you can’t do that if you run yourself down.” He took another bite and pointed at my plate. “Eat.”
I could live with that answer. It was honest and impersonal, so I liked it. I started eating. “This is really good.”
“Thanks.”
“How did you keep it warm?”
“I don’t live far.”
“Oh.”
We sat in silence and finished our meal. It wasn’t uncomfortable. The sounds of the utensils against the plates filled the air and before I knew it, I had cleaned the plate.
“See, you feel better now, don’t you?”
I allowed a small smile. “I do. Thank you.”
He nodded and looked around. “It’s remarkable how good this place looks. You’ve done a great job.”
“Thanks. Thank you for dinner, too.”
He turned back to me and smiled. “You’re welcome.”
A police car with lights and sirens went by and I started shaking. He noticed. “I’m going to take the plates to the back and rinse them off for you, but I don’t have any detergent to clean them.”
He held my hand and stopped me from taking his plate. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it just startled me, is all. I’ll be right back.”
He allowed me to go to the back with the dishes. I set them in the sink and took a deep breath while I hung my head and leaned on the counter. I wondered if Al was available. It made it easier after I moved into Rachael’s apartment to see her neighbor down the hall, but it also made it more difficult to avoid him. I needed to forget life for a while and he always helped me with that, but he had started to want too much. I just wanted sex.
“Hey.” Mick came into the back, scaring me. I jumped, dropping the knife in the sink. “I’m sorry. You were just back here a little longer than I thought it would take to rinse plates.”
“I must be tired.” I grabbed a hand towel and dried the plates. “They still need soap, but at least you won’t get anything dirty.”
“Thanks.” He looked back out to the front. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. There’s nothing to talk about.” I walked around him and took the plates to the counter. He had already folded the tablecloth.
“Okay, but I’m a pretty good listener.”
“I’m not good at talking. Just ask my sister.”
He smiled. “I’m not, either. I think that’s what makes me a good listener.” He looked around. “Well, I think I’ll get out of your way and let you go home. You need to rest up for your big day.”
I laughed. “That’s a lot of resting. It’s still a few weeks out.” What I needed wasn’t rest. I checked my watch. Al went to bed early, and I needed to catch him before he went to sleep.
He pointed to my watch. “Do you have somewhere you need to be?”
“Not exactly. I wanted to catch a friend before he went to sleep.”
“He?”
“I’m allowed to have male friends.”
“I never said you couldn’t.”
“It was implied.”
He raised an eyebrow. “From one word?”
“It was the tone.”
He tilted his head forward. “The tone was surprise that you liked the male species.”
“Occasionally.”
“I’m a lot closer.”
“To what?”
He stepped up to me but didn’t touch me. “For what you need your friend for.”
We stood there staring at each other. He was probably wondering if I was going to take him up on his offer, and I was wondering if he was serious. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t get involved and risk losing the shop, no matter how promising the bulge he constantly put in front of me was.
“You have no idea what I need my friend for.”
He walked me backwards until I hit the counter. “You want him to take care of your needs. Needs you suddenly have ever since that cop car went blaring by. You need him to help you forget life for a while, to make you feel good, and protected.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Deny it.”
I swallowed as he leaned in more, pressing his body to mine and reaching behind me to grab the dishes. I closed my eyes when he walked away. The breath I had been holding was finally released. Al better not have gone to sleep yet.

~*~

I unlocked my door and threw my purse on the chair. I wanted to take a shower before I went to Al’s. He didn’t care if I came over dirty from working in the shop, but I cared. Before I got to the bathroom, there was a knock on my door. I smiled; only one person knocked like that. He could shower with me.
I opened the door and smiled even wider. “Hey, I was just going to jump in the shower and head over, but you can come in with me. My back needs washing.”
He stepped in, but didn’t look happy. “Deb, we need to talk.”
I lowered my head and shut the door. I was dreading this day, the day he demanded more than sex. I turned and looked at the guy I’d spent the last several months with but knew very little about. That was how I wanted to keep it.
He was blond, dumb, and a great fuck. That’s all I needed to know and all I wanted to know. I was going to miss the orgasms he could give me. Fuck. “Al, we’ve talked about this.”
“No, actually.” He looked at the package in his hands. “I met someone.”
I took a step back. I hadn’t expected that. “You did?”
“Yeah, and I want to be exclusive with her.” He handed me the package.
“What’s this?”
“A goodbye gift.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Don’t open it until I leave, but I feel bad about this.”
I put the box on the side table and hugged him. “Do not feel bad at all. I’m very happy for you.”
He hugged me back. “You are?”
“Of course.” I backed up and patted his chest. “You have a big heart in there and have wanted to give it to someone for a long time. I’m glad you’ve found someone to give it to.” I looked at the gift. “You really didn’t have to.”
He smiled. “Yes, I did.” He checked his watch. “She’s coming over any minute, so I should get back to my apartment. Thanks for being cool with this. I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, champ. We’ll still see each other. We’ll just see each other with our clothes on.”
He smiled and nodded as he walked out. I locked the door behind him and turned to the package. I should’ve given it back to him. He didn’t need to give me anything. What I received from our time together was the only thing I’d wanted from him. I opened the package and smiled. I guess he wanted to make sure I still had my orgasms.
I took it out and looked at the deluxe model vibrator he had given me. I wasn’t much into vibrators and didn’t have the need for them with him next door. I shrugged and took it to the bedroom. I didn’t have him anymore, so no need for his money to go to waste.


Author Bio

B.L. Mooney started writing when the voices and storylines in her head ran out of room. They were getting too cramped and neither B.L. nor the characters could take it anymore, so she did the only thing she could do—she made room. She always knew she wanted to write, but vowed to make time for it later. Now that she’s made time for writing, most everything else falls to the wayside. That seems to suit the characters that keep popping up in her head just fine.

B.L. lives in the Midwest, and her other talents include in-demand cookies, a very dry sense of humor, and stealth eavesdropping. Some mannerisms, attitudes, or twists come from random sentences picked up while passing by strangers. So speak up the next time you have something to gossip about. You never know, it may just end up on the pages of the next book you read.

She loves to hear from her readers and you can contact her via email at 
AuthorBLMooney@gmail.com