Sunday, December 31, 2017

Chapter Reveal and Giveaway: Dirt by Cassia Leo

Today we have the chapter reveal for DIRT by Cassia Leo! Check them out and pre-order your copy today! 

Title: DIRT 

Author: Cassia Leo 

Series: Evergreen Series 

Release: January 12, 2018

A hard-hitting, emotional new series from New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo. 

Jack and I had everything. Then, in one brutal instant, the universe tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness. Now, I have a cocky a**hole for a husband. The only way we communicate anymore is when we’re fighting or f**king. With nothing left to lose, I write Jack a goodbye letter and head for Portland, where I quickly meet a neighbor who helps me find a job. My new neighbor—broody, tattooed ex-soldier Isaac Evans—is complicated. Nevertheless, we form a fast friendship, bonding over our mutual desire to create something beautiful from the wreckage of our lives. But despite the distance between us, Jack and I are still trying to make things work—fighting and f**king dirtier than ever. And he doesn’t appreciate my new friendship with Isaac. Not one f**king bit.





Chapter Reveal

Chapter 1
Laurel

I hugged Jack Jr. tightly against my breast, and he molded his soft, warm body to mine. His eyes remained closed as his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of my blouse, his rosy lips puckering as he geared up for more food. “You sucked me dry, little fella,” I whispered, leaning in to press my nose against the downy-soft, golden hair on the top of his head. I inhaled his scent and my muscles unspooled. “But I’ll be back to feed you soon. I promise.” Why do babies smell so damn good? Before I got pregnant with Junior, my favorite smell was orange blossoms. As a teenager, I often got scolded by my mom for picking the flowers off the orange tree in our backyard in Portland. I’d rub the creamy petals between my fingers, bruise them with my fingernails, then sniff my hand for hours until the scent wore off. When I was pregnant with Junior, my favorite scent became the rich aroma of the forbidden coffee I could no longer drink. After Junior was born, and my decaf days came to a glorious end, I realized how wrong I’d been. There was absolutely no scent as sweet and soul-quieting as the smell of the top of a baby’s head. Bonus points if the baby was lying peacefully on your chest sound asleep. “Are you ever going to put him down?” I flicked my head sideways, startled by Jack’s clear, baritone voice. He stood in the doorway of Junior’s nursery, the silhouette of his six-foot-three athletic body framed by the warm light in the hallway. His head was tilted to the side. He’d probably been standing there admiring us for a while. After six years together, I knew Jack’s body language and facial expressions better than I knew my own face. I stood from the rocking chair and stole one more sniff of Junior’s head before I placed him gently on his back in the center of the crib. I adjusted the left sleeve of his pajamas, pulling it down to make sure it covered his entire chubby arm. I didn’t want to imagine him waking up cold and alone in here. Jack appeared at my side as I switched on the video baby monitor. “He’s going to be fine,” he murmured, reaching down to stroke the soft patch of hair on Junior’s head. “In fact, he’ll probably enjoy some time alone. After all, he is just like his daddy; sometimes, we need a break from the constant attention from the ladies.” I rolled my eyes and headed for the door. “Making jokes only makes leaving him slightly less scary, you know,” I said as we stepped into the hallway of our five-bedroom dream home in Hood River, Oregon. I couldn’t wait to fill up every one of these bedrooms with brothers and sisters for Jack Jr. Jack chuckled as he followed closely behind me. “Less scary is an improvement,” he replied, grabbing my hand to stop me in the middle of the corridor. “You promised Junior you’d be back soon. Can you also make me a promise?” The hallway lights made his dark hair look glaringly shiny, but I couldn’t help but notice how weary his blue eyes looked tonight. Since Junior arrived three months ago, I’d been so focused on my baby boy’s vulnerability, his scent, his beauty, I hadn’t slowed down enough to appreciate how those were the same qualities that made me fall in love with Jack. Suddenly, my worries about leaving Junior with my mother for the evening evaporated. All I wanted to do was kiss Jack, grab hold of that dark hair and make love to him for hours. I wanted to replace the weariness in his eyes with dark hunger, or maybe a glint of mischief. I squeezed his hand and smiled at the thought of possibly having sex with him in public tonight. We hadn’t done that in a while. “What kind of promise?” I asked. He shook his head. “Nope, you’re not allowed to ask. Just promise me you’ll say yes.” My stomach vaulted at the sound of those words. They were the same words Jack spoke when he asked me to marry him. I wondered what he would ask this time. The phrase “just promise me you’ll say yes” had become like an inside joke, our own private, unspoken promise to each other that we would always do whatever it took to stay together. The last time he had uttered this phrase, he asked me to stop taking my birth control pills. With Junior here, it was easy to trust that whatever Jack asked me for this time would turn out to be exactly what I needed. I tilted my head back so I could look up and into his crystal-blue eyes. “Yes, I can make you a promise.” His expression became sober. “Promise me you’ll be present tonight.” He fixed me with a piercing gaze as his large hand cupped my face. “It’s just you and me for the next three hours. Promise me.” I smiled. “I promise. Just you and me. And I’ll even put my cell phone on vibrate.” As I said the words, a sharp finger of fear prodded my subconscious, telling me it was a bad idea to risk missing a phone call tonight. The exhaustion in Jack’s eyes melted away as he smiled. “I can deal with that, but you have to promise me one more thing.” “What’s that?” His smile turned almost menacing as he looped his arm around my waist and drew me close. “Promise me you’ll lemme smash that blonde bombshell booty,” he said, landing a light swat on my ass. I shook my head as I recalled how we often had sex in public during our first year together, in our senior year at Oregon State University, Cascades. For some reason, once we graduated and moved in together, having sex in public seemed like something we couldn’t get away with so easily. We decided public sex-hibitions — or throw downs, as we more commonly referred to them — would be reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or vacations. Truthfully, Jack and I kicked off our relationship by having sex on the first date. He was always a very difficult man to resist. When he showed up at my apartment to pick me up that night, I couldn’t resist his suggestion that we should stay in and make paper masks of ourselves, then put them on and ask each other first date questions as if we were the other person. I had never laughed so much on any date. Ever. But when he asked — while pretending to be me — if I’d ever had sex with someone on the first date, I couldn’t help but respond with, “I’m Jack-fucking-Stratton. I’ve fucked a lot of girls on the first date. But none as gorgeous as you.” Jack always knew how to keep things fresh and alarmingly sexy. Six years in and my body still craved him almost every second of every day. Today was our three-year wedding anniversary. We’d only had sex twice since I gave birth to Junior three months ago, and both of those times were truly awkward. The first time was painful. My C-section incision hadn’t fully healed yet, and even trying to have sex with him behind me was uncomfortable. The second time we tried, Jack was so afraid of hurting me, he stopped midway through. There’d been a lot of oral sex happening in this house since then. Luckily, a few weeks had passed since our last attempt, and I had repeatedly assured him I was fully healed up now. I was certain that even if the sex did hurt a little, it would still be worth it. I couldn’t understand couples that didn’t consider sex an important part of a relationship. I never felt more complete, more present, more alive than when my body and mind were entwined with Jack’s. I smiled as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I think I know just the place for a proper throw down.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh. Tell me more.” As he leaned in to kiss me, my mother’s voice interrupted us. “Are you two making out again?” she said, standing at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips as she gawped at us. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” Jack laughed and I shook my head as we moved toward her. “We’re just trying to keep you entertained while you’re on vacation, Beth,” Jack said. My mother cocked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to watch porn, I’d open up your laptop and have a look at your internet history.” “Mom, don’t be gross,” I protested, trying not to laugh. Jack smiled as he held out his elbow for my mom to grab hold as they descended the stairs in front of me. “I made a special collection of links for you. They’re in a folder labeled Tantric Geriatric. You’ll love it.” I rolled my eyes. Jack and my mother exchanged jabs like this all day. My mother was staying with us for a few days, so Jack and I could have some time to ourselves and get some much-needed uninterrupted sleep. She was leaving tomorrow to go back to the house where I grew up in Portland. Though she pretended as if she was desperate to get home to her Craftsman cottage in the city, and I even teased her about how she was dying to get back so she could see the handsome new neighbor she’d been going on about, I knew she was going to miss Jack’s pretend insults as much as she would miss Junior and me. My mother practically shoved me toward the front door. “I order you to go have fun,” she said, smiling as Jack opened the door and stepped outside. “And don’t come home until you’re too drunk to walk.” I shook my head. “Thanks, Mom. Please call if you need anything. And don’t answer the door for anyone. There’s a house that got broken into a few streets away.” She waved off my paranoia. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll be fine. See you later, babe.” I blew her a kiss, then I closed the door behind me.
* * *
“I have to admit, having sex on the waterfront was one of my favorite public throw downs ever,” Jack said, pulling his Tesla into the long driveway of our four-acre estate. “But do we really have to wait until our fourth anniversary to do it again?” I tugged the silky fabric of my skirt straight as I pressed my thighs together. Though my body was still raw with the evidence of the dirty deed we’d just committed, I couldn’t wait to get Jack inside and pounce on him again. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sensation of him moving inside me, and how good he was at making me feel beautiful. “We can do that anytime we can snag a babysitter,” I replied as he turned the car off. He made no move to exit the Tesla. “Well, babycakes, you’d better get ready to interview a fuck-ton of babysitters.” I laughed. “Babycakes? That’s a new one.” Jack rarely used the same term of endearment twice in a row. He liked to keep me guessing. He scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, that one was kind of creepy. Now that I’ve tried it out, I think I can bury that one in the nickname graveyard.” “Try the incinerator,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “Duly noted,” he replied, exiting the vehicle. Jack and I glided unhurriedly along the flagstone walkway, which was lined with sparkling pathway lights. As we made our way toward the steps leading up to the covered porch, I stopped in the middle of the path and closed my eyes as I inhaled the sweet scent of the lavender and honeysuckle I’d planted with my mom’s help. That was when I made a wish, a corny wish, but I didn’t care. I wished that every person could find someone they loved as much as I loved Jack. I wished every child could feel as loved as Junior was. And I wished every anniversary could be as perfect as this one. “No… No, no, no!” Jack’s voice grew louder with each no. They say mother’s intuition is scientifically proven to exist. I knew by the tone of Jack’s voice, without even opening my eyes, that my world would never be the same. I knew in that instant, I would regret leaving Jack Jr. tonight for the rest of my life. Though I knew something was wrong, I wasn’t prepared for what we found. At some point, while we were lost in our blissful celebration, the front door of our home had been forced open. This discovery was what had made Jack cry out in disbelief. Father’s intuition must also be a thing, because he told me later that, even though the door was still closed, the moment he saw the gouges in the wood near the handle, he had felt that same sense of dread. That feeling that the universe had suddenly tilted on its side, discarding us into black nothingness. The house was ransacked. Furniture upended, paintings and flatscreen televisions torn off the walls, shards of shattered vases littered the floors. Complete and utter chaos. The master bathroom doorknob looked as if it had been shot off. We found my mother’s lifeless form huddled against the bathtub, my baby boy’s dead body clutched tightly in her arms.


New York Times bestselling author Cassia Leo loves her coffee, chocolate, and margaritas with salt. When she’s not writing, she spends way too much time re-watching Game of Thrones and Sex and the City. When she’s not binge watching, she’s usually enjoying the Oregon rain with a hot cup of coffee and a book. Find her on...
 

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Saturday, December 30, 2017

Book Blitz and Giveaway: A Harmless Little Game by Meli Raine


A Harmless Little Game
Meli Raine
(Harmless, #1)
Publication date: October 18th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Four years ago I lost my virginity on live, streaming television. 
Too bad I wasn’t awake for it.
The video went viral. Of course it would. A Senator’s daughter on camera? Wouldn’t you click “share”? Besides, that’s what three of the four guys in the video did. 
Share. 
They shared me. 
But that fourth guy? The nondescript one in the background in the upper left corner of the screen, just sitting on the couch? The only one who did nothing? 
Not one single thing. 
That was my boyfriend, Drew.
And that was the last time I saw him.
Until today, when my father—now on a path to the White House—hired him as head of security for my new team as I return home after four years of “recovering” in an undisclosed location that involved white lab coats, needles, pills and damage control.
You see, the other three guys never went to jail. Never had charges pressed. 
Never faced consequences. 
Until today. 
Game on.
* * *
A Harmless Little Game is the first in this political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine.
FREE for a limited time only!
Short, clipped chestnut hair. Brown eyes the color of well-worn leather, eyes that blaze with intelligence and a guardedness no one could ever breach. He’s bigger than the last time I saw him, four years ago. Broader. More muscular. He’s a controlled, contained man who has a James Bond air to him.

And he’s looking at me right now with eyes so cold they might as well be icebergs.

“Lindsay, let me introduce you to Andrew,” Stacia starts.

Drew. Oh, God, it’s true.

“Andrew Foster will be your new security specialist. He and his team will keep you safe.”
I snort.

He stares.

Stacia’s eyes leap from Drew to me and back. “Is there a problem?” she asks, brows turning down. That’s more emotion than I’ve seen in her for four years. Her gaze darts between me and Drew, assessing the situation. No matter what, I lose if she decides something’s going sour here.


Even if Drew is the one gone bad.

“No.” Drew and I say the word at the exact same moment, in the same tone of voice. It sounds like a sharp clap, a single sound that shatters noise.

“You two know each other?” Stacia asks, her fingers caressing the paper. Without that discharge form, I can’t leave. If Drew ruins this for me, it will be the second time in my life he’s fucked up.
The first time was four years ago when he let three of our friends rape me.

Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.
Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.
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Friday, December 29, 2017

Cover Reveal: La Famiglia by Deanna Wadsworth

Title: La Famiglia
Series: A Men of Gilead Novel
Author: Deanna Wadsworth
Genre: M/M Romance Novel (standalone)
Release Date: January 23, 2018
Forrester Giordano comes from a huge, nosy Italian family, and with their homophobic jokes and slurs, he’s decided to stay in the closet. He finds respite in his bookstore in the quaint village of Gilead—where he has a huge crush on one of his customers, Kyle Benson.
Kyle is determined to live his dreams, and though life isn’t easy being deaf, one by one he’s making them come true. He’s scored a great job practicing law, bought a cute bungalow where he can finally have a big flower garden, and he has a dog he loves, Jasper. Now he just needs one thing to complete his happiness: a family of his own to make up for the one he never had.
Forrester and Kyle’s relationship starts off hot and heavy, and neither man can deny the depth of their connection. When Forrester’s little brother gets mixed up with their heroin-dealing cousin and his mother falls ill, Forrester has a decision to make—maybe the hardest of his life. For the first time, he’s found a man worth coming out for.
Unfortunately nothing ever goes according to plan with la famiglia.
So, Forrester.” Kyle said his name in a way that never ceased to send shockwaves down his back and straight to his cock. “How does one go about trading in books around here?”
Forrester pressed his groin closer to the back of the checkout counter, not wanting his thin khakis to reveal what Kyle’s voice did to him. He knew it wasn’t an accent anymore, but the soft way Kyle spoke lured him in like a siren’s song.
Since no one else waited to check out, Forrester took a moment to soak in those gorgeous hazel eyes, then smiled impishly. “First you have to bring them in.”
“That would be helpful.” Kyle’s generous mouth cracked a grin.
He tried his damnedest not to picture those downright kissable lips wrapped around his cock while he ran his fingers through Kyle’s sun-streaked hair.
He’d always had a thing for blonds.
He plucked up one of the flyers from the counter. Somehow he managed to sound professional, educated even, when he handed it over. “Our policy is we only take gently used books.”
“Mine are in great shape.”
“I bet they are,” Forrester drawled.
“They’re like new,” he insisted. “No folded corners, never dropped one in a tub either.”
“Good to hear. I hate it when people ruin a good book.” Dammit, now I’m picturing Kyle in a bathtub!
“Me too.” Kyle folded the flyer and tucked it into his pocket.
“For every book you trade in, we give 15 percent off the purchase of a new book or 25 percent off a used one. And for every three books, you get a free used book or half off a new one.”
Kyle flashed those pearly whites, making his eyes crinkle and his dimples deepen so much Forrester longed to flick his tongue inside them. “Guess I got some free books coming.”
“I guess you do,” he quipped. “Do you want to buy these today or wait till you do the trade?”
Kyle withdrew his card. “Nah, I’ll buy them now. I’ve been dying to see what happens since you got me hooked on this series. And Scott already signed this one.”
Forrester offered him a sideways smile. “I’ll just give you 15 percent off on good faith.”
“Gosh, you don’t have to do that.”
Good Lord, the guy said gosh. Could he be more adorable?
When Forrester noticed Holly watching them, he resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. Instead, he shrugged off Kyle’s modesty and entered the discount into his computer. “No problem. Just make sure you bring me some good stuff, capisci?”
“Will do. Thanks a lot.”
Forrester swiped his card, then offered Kyle another inviting smile. The one Ma called his suck-up smile. “Can I get you anything else? Answer any more of your questions?”
Kyle kept smiling. “No. You’ve been pretty thorough, as usual.”
“You sure?” he prompted, unable to stop flirting so shamelessly. “You don’t need to know anything else? What’s on the bestseller list? Today’s weather? The meaning of life?”
“Forty-two.”
Official report: Forrester was in love with Kyle Benson.
Or at least in serious lust.
His grin widened so big he swore his face might crack. “A Hitchhiker fan. I should’ve known.” He tore off the receipt and slid it forward for Kyle to sign.
“Hells yeah.” Kyle laughed.
Forrester bagged the books. “Receipt with you or in the bag?”
“Bag’s fine.” He accepted his purchases, then cleared his throat and fiddled with the bag. “All right, um, thank you, Forrester. Always a pleasure.” He extended a hand and Forrester took it, electric jolts running through his blood at the feel of those lightly calloused fingers.
“No problem,” he managed, not letting go.
Kyle kept his gaze locked on Forrester, blinking and glancing from his eyes to his mouth. Warming, Forrester ran his thumb across the back of his hand. He couldn’t believe his forwardness, but Kyle had some kind of tractor beam sucking him in. Powerless against its pull, he stroked the soft skin once more with a nervous, light touch, pulses of heat and desire stirring inside him.
Forrester let go and cleared his throat. “Um, Kyle?”
“Yeah?”
The phone rang, shattering the moment.
Sighing, he snagged it on the third ring. “Thank you for calling A Novel Idea. This is Forrester, how may I help you?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
Only real friends or family could answer a phone with an “it’s me.” Lucas Beale was the former. Though totally weird, and he hated sports of all kinds, Lucas was Forrester’s “boy best friend”—Holly having the honor of being his “girl best friend.” He didn’t know what he would do without either of them.
“Hey, Lucas, what’s up?” He tried not to sound annoyed at the telephone cockblock.
Kyle waved goodbye. “I guess I’ll see ya later, Forrester.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Can’t wait for what?” Lucas asked in confusion.
He covered the receiver, hoping he didn’t sound lame to Kyle. “I mean… uh, I can’t wait to read that book together?” His entire body froze in one breath of anticipation.
Kyle cocked his head to the side, then smiled. “Absolutely.”
Still grinning, Kyle turned and walked away.
Ignoring Lucas as he started talking again, Forrester watched Kyle’s spectacular ass as he headed to the door. A woman was coming in and, like a perfect gentleman, Kyle held the door for her. Outside, Kyle slid on and strapped his helmet. Then he threw his leg over and straddled the chrome-and-black Sportster parked out front.
I got something he can straddle and ride…. Forrester’s skin flushed all the way to his toes. Was Kyle a top or a bottom? Being versatile, he really didn’t care. As long as there was manly skin touching his, lots of kissing, and he got to come, Forrester was a happy camper. But the prospect of finding out what Kyle liked made his entire body warm.
He watched Kyle put his bike into gear and walk it back out of the space. As it did every time Kyle left, a deep ache settled in his stomach.
God, I just need to marry him.
Deanna Wadsworth might be a bestselling erotica author, but she leads a pretty vanilla life in Ohio with her wonderful husband and a couple adorable cocker spaniels. She has been spinning tales and penning stories since childhood, and her first erotic novella was published in 2010. She has served multiple board positions at her local RWA chapter and is the current President 2017 for Rainbow Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing books or brainstorming with friends, you can find her making people gorgeous in a beauty salon. She loves music and dancing, and can often be seen hanging out on the sandbar in the muddy Maumee River or chilling with her hubby and a cocktail in their basement bar. In between all that fun, Deanna cherishes the quiet times when she can let her wildly active imagination have the full run of her mind. Her fascination with people and the interworkings of their relationships have always inspired her to write romance with spice and love without boundaries.
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Release Boost: On Duty by A.R. Barley

Title: On Duty
Author: A.R. Barley
Genre: MM Contemporary Suspense
Publisher: Carina Press
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Number one rule for a firefighter: never take your eyes off the flame. Male/male author A.R. Barley is back with a new contemporary romance series.

Former marine and seasoned firefighter Troy Barnes has always kept his sex life on the down low, until he takes back-to-back hits: physically injured in a suspicious warehouse explosion and emotionally blindsided when he’s ditched by his boyfriend. When a flirty young paramedic offers him a place to crash, Troy’s not so willing to give in. He’s never needed help before. But if anyone can break through his tough-guy act, it’s Alex Tate.

Alex has crushed on Troy since the minute he saw him. Now here he is, stripped of his turnout gear and recuperating in Alex’s bed. The tattooed hero may be a fantasy-come-true, but Alex wants more than rebound sex—and he’s not sure Troy’s ex is gone orforgotten.
As each night brings them closer together, Troy realizes there’s more to Alex than he’d ever imagined. And with an arsonist loose in Manhattan, neither he nor Alex realizes just how combustible things are going to get.



A.R. Barley lives in the Motor City with a dog (who's currently annoying the cat), a cat (who's doing his best to avoid the dog), and an engineer. She likes hot drinks, hotter novels, and ice cream. She writes seven days a week (when she's not playing referee to the dog and the cat) and is always happy to hear from readers at aleahbarley@gmail.com. You can also reach her on Facebook and Twitter!

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Blog Tour: True by Ella Frank

SBPRBanner-TRUE-RB-2

TRUE, the final book in The Temptation Series by Ella Frank and the highly anticipated wedding between Logan Mitchell and Tate Morrison is available now!

TRUE-FINAL

True - adjective: That which is accurate or exact.

I dare you to try.
I think you’re my truth.
Terrify me.
Marry me.
Marry me.
Marry me...
Four years ago, Logan Mitchell walked into Tate’s life and challenged him to see it differently.
He dared Tate to try a kiss, when normally he wouldn’t have.
He begged him to take a chance, when he probably shouldn’t have.
But most importantly, he asked Tate to trust that he would love him, and he did. From that moment on, Tate realized exactly what his life had been missing—Logan.
Happily-ever-afters come in many different forms. But for Tate Morrison, there’s only one ending he wants. The one where the guy marries the guy and true love conquers all.
Now all he has to do is tell Logan.
Join Logan and Tate as they finally realize what the rest of us knew all along. That they belong together for better or worse—always.

LOVE. IT’S FUNNY how one four-letter word can bring on such an onslaught of emotions. Happiness, desire, anger, even fear, Tate Morrison thought, as he sat at the tiny table in the empty bar of the Lynley Winery and tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. It could make those who were the most honest with their emotions run scared, while at the same time bring forth a determination in the most unlikely of people. That was something he had discovered ten minutes ago back in their suite when Logan had stood before him naked and uttered, “Just tell me how you want me, Tate. I’m yours.” That was when he’d run. Tate had practically tripped over his feet in his hurry to be free of the suddenly suffocating confines of that bathroom. And now, as he sat alone replaying Logan’s words, he stared down at the crumpled paper he’d grabbed from his wallet and studied the words in his shaking hands. His stomach knotted, then flipped over on itself time and time again, and Tate willed himself to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from a panic attack, but that was exactly what was happening. He was panicking. And the reason? The reason was as clear as day. He was the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. Yeah, he was. Fucking hell. He’d heard that love made people do some stupid shit before, but this… God, what if I can’t fix this? What if Logan doesn’t want me like that anymore? The thought made him want to be sick. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning, but all that did was bring to mind Logan back in the bathroom, beautiful as always, looking at Tate for some kind of indication of what was running through his head. And what had Tate given him? Nothing. He’d just fled. Damn it. Tate shoved the piece of paper into his pocket, along with the pen he’d grabbed from the side table back in their suite, no longer able to look at it. What had he done to them? How had he let fear of the unknown possibly ruin this? And as the memories flooded him again… I dare you to try. I think you’re my truth. Terrify me. Marry me. …he was more than aware that it was that one, the last one, that didn’t have the right ending. He’d really messed this up, but he could make it right and wanted to, more than he wanted his next breath. He placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes, trying to gather some semblance of control so he could go back, find Logan, and do the one thing he realized he should’ve done all along. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of padded feet on the hardwood floor that he looked up to see that he didn’t need to go and find Logan, because he had tracked Tate down instead. With the fire flickering behind him, the sharp angles of Logan’s cheeks and jaw only enhanced a face Tate loved more than he thought possible, and when Logan pulled out the chair opposite him and reached across the table to take his hands, Tate couldn’t believe it had taken his brain this long to catch up and get to where it now firmly was. “Hey,” Logan said, his eyes roaming over Tate’s face, no doubt for signs, clues as to why he’d run away. “Hey,” Tate replied, and then lowered his gaze to their hands, marveling over the strength he found there when they were joined. Exactly…together, not apart. Always and forever, together. “What are you doing out here?” Logan asked, and Tate swallowed as he felt Logan tighten his grip. “I, uhh…” “Tate?” Logan said before Tate could give any kind of response. “What are you doing out here?” Tate withdrew his hand and ran it through his hair, and as Logan continued to watch him, he felt his nerves kick in. “Back there in the bathroom…” he started, and then stopped. As he thought over his words, Tate wondered if there was even a way to explain how badly he’d screwed this all up, but knew the only way he’d ever know was to try. “I had a thought. It was more of a moment, I guess. A flash of us. Of all we are and will be and— Shit, I sound crazy, don’t I?” Logan’s eyes narrowed, but he shook his head. “You don’t sound crazy. But you are freaking me out a little. Were the things you were thinking good things, at least?” Tate frowned and then shot Logan an apologetic look. The last thing Tate wanted was to worry him more—it was the exact opposite. “Yeah, of course. I should’ve probably started with that. Everything about you was good. Perfect, really, but me…” “What about you? You’re pretty fucking perfect from where I’m sitting. And back there in that bathroom, trust me, you looked better than any of those naked statues on the wall.” Tate tried for a smile but knew he didn’t quite pull it off when Logan asked, “What is it, Tate? Come on; you know you can tell me anything.” Okay, this is it, Tate thought, as he swallowed and then shifted in his seat, glancing over at the fire for a moment to gather his nerve. Then he turned back to Logan and asked, “Am I too late?” At Logan’s confused expression, Tate knew he didn’t understand what he was asking. So he reached into his pocket where he’d shoved the piece of paper, and then put it on the table. He smoothed his hand over it, lovingly tracing his fingers over the name he now wanted as his own, and then pushed it over in front of Logan. As Logan stared down at it, Tate watched him read over the words on the paper, waiting for a reaction, and when Logan looked up, Tate asked again, “Am I too late?” Logan blinked several times, and Tate held his breath, wondering if he was too late. But then something miraculous happened: Logan shook his head. The blood rushing around Tate’s head made his ears ring as he tried to comprehend what Logan was telling him, but he still hadn’t said a word, so Tate pulled the pen from his pocket and leaned over to circle the name he hadn’t been able to stop looking at ever since he’d found the piece of paper. As Logan looked down again, Tate saw a huge grin split his lips. “So what do you think? Can the world handle two Mr. Mitchells?” True-AN

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Try (Temptation #1)
Take (Temptation #2)
Trust (Temptation #3)
Tease (Temptation #4)
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Tate (Temptation #5)
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Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!” A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. 

 You can reach her on the web at www.ellafrank.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.

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