Coaches & Books

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Sooo…. I’m doing this. It’s coming soon. For Break For Me & Long For Me.



The prize:

  • Coach purse (Worth $100 ~ Coach Outlet rocks)
  • 3 signed books from my backlist
  • $20 GC to Amazon or BN
  • Signed cover flat for Sweeter than Sin (Adam has tattoos…)

I was recently told this:


I loved Dean (Break For Me)… he was fun to write.

Here… read some more.


“I got words I need to say to you, but I’m not sure where to start.”

“Don’t.”  Staring out at the dark street, she thought back to how often she had to hear the very words he probably felt he had to say.  “I’ve heard them all before, Dean.  They change nothing, you know.  I’m raw right now, but the wounds are old.  You didn’t know.  It’s cool.”

“No.” He shook his head and said, “It’s not cool.  Maybe these are old wounds, but I was taking digs at you over a personal thing and that just makes it more of a problem for me.”

She slanted him a look and felt her heart freeze in her chest, for one long, long moment.

There was something she’d meant to say.  The words died, right there on the tip of her tongue as he took a deep, slow breath that seemed to shudder through him.

She felt it echo through her as well, her skin drawing tight while heat buffeted her.

No . . . no . . . no. Helplessly, she tried to gather up the strength to get up and walk away.  This was no good. She couldn’t do this—

“You got that look in your eyes,” he said, a faint smirk twisting his mouth.  He had the damnedest mouth.  She’d had dreams about that mouth.  Dreams about capturing his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his, feeling his body against hers as she learned how he felt, how he tasted.

Not good.  Not good at all.

“It would be easier, you know.”  He stared out over the street, that deep, rich voice of his level and smooth, rolling over her like liquid gold.  She felt something melt deep inside her and she had to bite back a groan.  “If I didn’t look at you and sometimes see the same damn thing I feel.  Because I know you feel it.  But you ignore it.  Ignore me.  That’s what pushed me.  I was a fucking asshole, and I know it.  That’s why it’s not cool.  So I’m sorry.”

Licking her lips, she nodded. Get up, she told herself.  Her legs didn’t want to cooperate and even once she managed to get vertical, her thighs were all trembling and weak. Swiping her palms down the outside of her jeans, she darted a quick look at him.  “Don’t . . .” The words tangled on her tongue as their gazes connected.  “Don’t let the thing about my mom get to you.  You didn’t know. It’s okay.”

“There you go,” he murmured, turning his head, dipping it down just a little.  The heavy fall of dreadlocks obscured his face and she had the insane urge to reach down, fist her hand in his hair so she could see him, see his face.  Proud, arched cheekbones, that fucking sexy mouth, and those intense eyes.

She had no business wanting him.  A want like this scared her.

Because it was so deep, so strong, she made herself take another step back.

Dean just nodded. “It’s okay, Jensen. I get it.  You and me, we’re not going there.  So I’ll . . .” He blew out a breath.  “I’ll just stop.”

The words ripped out of her.  “Stop what?”

He didn’t answer.  Long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Woodford Reserve he had next to him and he rose.  “I hope you can get some rest this weekend.  Find some peace.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

He paused halfway up the steps. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about you.  But I haven’t made much of an attempt to hide the fact that I’m interested.  I can do better, so I will.  You don’t want to see it, so I’ll keep it to myself.  Sooner or later, it will fade.”

Will it?

She stared at the strong line of his back as he crossed the porch, her heart slamming away in her chest.

A knot formed in her throat.

This . . . this intensity she felt every time she looked at him.  That could fade?

It was the most real thing she’d felt since . . .

She didn’t even realize she was moving until he’d turned to look at her.

Then she was doing the very thing she’d dreamed about.

His skin was warm against hers, the light stubble scraping against her palms.  Because that light touch wasn’t enough, she kept one palm on his face and then drove the other hand into his hair, tangled it in his dreads.  The texture was coarse against her hand and she shuddered at the thought of feeling him, all of him.

“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered as she rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Wanna read all of it?  It’s out soon…

Amazon | BN | Kobo | iBooks | Google Play

Check out the rest of the Secrets & Shadows series

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