ALPHAS IN LOVE: Anthology
Books & Authors:
Marie Garner – Miss Congeniality
Elle Jefferson – At Death It Begins
Anne Jolin – Chasing Rhodes
Rochelle Paige – Hit The Wall
CP Smith – A Reason To Breathe
*all with bonus material*
~ COVER DESIGNER ~
Melissa Gill: MG Book Covers
~ RELEASE DATE ~
~ Blurbs ~
Miss Congeniality by Marie Garner:
Miss Congeniality doesn’t curse. Miss Congeniality doesn’t have tattoos. Miss Congeniality doesn’t drink shots. Miss Congeniality doesn’t ride motorcycles….Or does she?
When America’s sweetheart…
Brea Richards is America’s sweetheart. Dubbed Miss Congeniality by the media, Brea has spent years honing her current reputation. And being one of the leading stars of a prime time television show…priceless. It’s a long way from her humble beginnings, but that’s her secret to keep. Or at least that’s what she believes until she gets the phone call.
Meets America’s bad boy…
Lance Holder is America’s bad boy, the guy they love to hate. He lives life the way he wants, and makes no apologies, regardless of what anyone thinks. All everyone sees is the tattooed, motorcycle riding, reckless movie star, preventing anyone from looking beneath the surface. And that’s just fine with Lance. Until his new gig puts him right in the path of Brea.
Will either one escape unscathed?
Lance is the newbie on Brea’s show, and everyone is watching to see if America’s bad boy will influence Miss Congeniality. They don’t know Brea’s worst influences happened long before Lance entered the picture. And Lance seems to be one of the only ones to see beyond her current façade. Maybe America’s bad boy is just what America’s sweetheart needs…
At Death It Begins by Elle Jefferson:
Lendyn Hughes’ grandmother has kept a secret for thirty-one years, who Lendyn’s parents are. A devastating break-up following her grandmother’s death leaves Lendyn alone, confused and determined to find answers. Armed with only a name Lendyn attempts to unfurl the branches of her family tree never guessing it would put her life in danger.
For over two hundred years Englishman Callum Scott lived a life surrounded by beauty. A life free from all those annoying human emotions. That is until the American showed up. Lendyn flipped his world upside down and put him in the worst sort of jeopardy. He’s starting to feel things and a murderer can’t afford to feel.
Chasing Rhodes by Anne Jolin:
***Can be read as a standalone or as part of the Rock Falls series.
Hannah Rhodes has just gotten out of a long term relationship, and she isn’t looking for a new man in her life. But after a night out with the girls and one too many tequila shots, her plans to stay man free are blown all to hell. She finds herself in bed with the smoldering stranger from a party six months back and immediately knows she’s in trouble, big trouble. And the last thing Hannah needs is more trouble.
Her last relationship took her out like an emotional freight train, and she’s trying to piece back the stability her life once had.
Greyson Holt’s biggest fear in life is to end up like his father, like the man who left him as a child, and broke his mother’s heart. He vowed to never be responsible for that kind of carnage. Men could be cruel and that kind of brutality was in his blood. He never allows himself to get too close to anyone, until he meets Hannah.
Something about her makes him want to try, but a man can’t change overnight.
Will Holt be able to catch Rhodes every time he lets her go? Or will their chase end in heartbreak?
Hit The Wall by Rochelle Paige:
Jackson thought he knew what love was and feels like he missed his chance at happiness. He realizes he wasted his chance by chasing after one-night stands instead of going after what he really wanted.
Kaylie knows what loss feels like and doesn’t want to take a chance on love. She puts up walls to keep her heart protected from experiencing that kind of pain again.
What happens when a guy who refuses to lose out again meets a girl who resists him as much as she can? Will Jackson be able to hit the wall Kaylie has put up and knock it down?
A Reason To Breathe by CP Smith:
WARNING: Author believes in soul mates and insta-love, proceed with caution if you’re not a romantic at heart.
Love at first sight never was so dangerous.
Jack Gunnison has a problem, well, two, actually, one is 5’5″ and the other…A killer.
Jennifer Stewart needs a change after losing her husband and sending her daughter off to college.
Moving to the high country of Colorado to restart her life and, follow her dreams, Jenn gets more than she bargained for when she attracts the eye of a killer.
Together, Jack and Jenn must figure out his identity, before he strikes again.
Mature readers only due to erotic content and language.
~ Connect with the authors ~
~ GIVEAWAY ~
Tour Host ~
Here is an excerpt from the first chapter of my new steamy NA romance serial Not Looking for Love. I’m super excited to finally start sharing some excerpts since the serial is now complete and ready to be enjoyed in its entirety! All 5 episodes are now available for purchase at Amazon and can also be read for free by Kindle Unlimited (KU) members. I hope you enjoy the read! I’d also love to hear from you, so please don’t hesitate to comment below.
Not Looking For Love Episode 1
Chapter 1 Scene 1
Mom’s coughs, raspy and urgent, wake me. Her room is at the far end of the hall, five doors down, yet the sound rips through my chest like she’s lying right next to me. Leaving me, saying goodbye. The too many cocktails I drank at Kate’s party no longer make my thoughts fuzzy, instead they buzz around in my stomach, churning, making me sick. The coughing doesn’t stop, changes pitch until it sounds like she’s screaming. I bolt out of bed and run to the door, the sudden movement making the room spin around me. Dad’s footsteps pound down the hallway as he rushes to my mom’s room, so I sit on the chair by my makeup desk and turn on the sidelights, willing the room to stop spinning.
I’d only be in the way now, if I go to my mom. Then my dad will think he has to take care of us both: comfort my mom and keep me safe. Only he can’t, because my mom is dying, and there is no one who can change that. Twenty-two years old is too young to lose a mom. Cancer. Such a whimsical word for such a terrible disease. My birth sign. Bile rises in my throat as I struggle to chase the thought away, thinking of anything but that. That my birth sign is killing my mom, that I’m killing my mom. It’s childish, and it’s stupid to think it, but the idea still feels like I’ve swallowed broken glass.
I grab my wrist, hoping to clutch the charm bracelet she gave me on my 21st birthday just over a year ago. She gave me all of her jewelry for my birthday this year. Tiny charms dangle from the bracelet: a little princess, a colorful egg, and a golden coin. But all I feel is my racing pulse, a tiny ball bouncing in my vein that might break free at any moment, making me bleed out. The bracelet is gone.
I had worn it to Kate’s party, since I never take it off. I’d only gone to the party for a little distraction, and because Kate’s house is just next door, I could be back with my mom in a few minutes if she needed me. It was a total disaster. Brandon wouldn’t stop pestering me, and he ended up throwing me in the pool for a laugh. After that, I ran home, very nearly crying.
Digging through my makeup table, I send creams and blushes, hairpins and lipsticks toppling to the ground, searching frantically for the bracelet, even though I don’t remember taking it off. I run back to the bed, throwing the sheets, the pillows on the ground, checking the nightstand. The bracelet isn’t anywhere.
I’m outside on the patio before I can think.
Mornings are chilly this late in August, and dawn has hardly broken. All I’m wearing is a white tank top and the silk boxers I sleep in. I run across the lawn barefoot, not thinking of what I may be stepping on. I have to find the bracelet; I have no time to put on shoes.
I crawl through the hole in the fence that separates my garden from Kate’s. It’s a tight fit, now that I’m no longer five years old. Chairs and towels, empty glasses and discarded clothes are still strewn across the lawn, but, thankfully, no one is around. Likely, the cold dawn chased the last of the party away. I glance up at the house to make sure no one is watching. All the windows are dark. A light reflects in the first floor windows, and I drop into a crouch reflexively, but it’s just a passing car.
I find my dress near the pool where I took it off to take a dip. Right before Brandon tossed me in. I just left it lying there when I ran home. Everyone must think I’m completely mental now. I hope Brandon does too. Why won’t he just take a hint? Brandon is Kate’s brother, and since she’s like a sister to me, he’s like a brother to me. I can’t be dating my brother. Besides he’s the love ’em and leave ’em type, and all he can give me is a broken heart. Like he did with his last five girlfriends. As if my heart could take any more breaking.
I look around, tossing things aside, not caring where they land, hoping to find the bracelet. It’s not anywhere. The sun’s not up yet, but birds are chirping something awful all around me, and the sky is more white than grey now. Dawn is my favorite time of day. I love watching the colors of the sky change from inky black to grey to lilac blue and finally yellow, the new day being born, bringing new hope. Today, I just wish the sun would come up.
If the bracelet is not in the grass, it might be in the pool. The thought of going back in the water makes me shiver, but my desperation to get the bracelet back right away is stronger.
I ease myself off the side of the pool in roughly the spot where I went in before, feet first, trying not to make any sound that could wake Kate’s family. It’s like slow torture to do it that way, and my whole body cramps up, but the last thing I need is to cause a panic. I could just go back home and come back once the sun is up, but I can’t. I need that bracelet, or else I won’t sleep.
The cold water grips my body like a vice and I take shallow breaths until the worst of the pain passes. The lights in the pool are off already, they’re connected to the porch lights, and someone thoughtfully turned them all off after the party ended. Too thoughtfully. I could really use those lights right now.
After a final deep breath, I submerge my head, fighting the overwhelming urge to gasp as the cold water goes straight to my brain, which is what it feels like. I can almost see the steam coming off, but at least my heart is no longer pounding. I let myself float on the surface, scanning the floor of the pool. Lucky really, that Kate’s pool is saltwater. I can float, eliminating the need to tread water to keep myself on the surface.
Shadows play upon the mosaic floor of the pool, all blues, whites, yellows, and pinks. I turn slightly to adjust my angle of view. No silver gleams against the tiles anywhere. I only come up for air once my lungs start burning and dip my face back in immediately. Grey is giving way to white in the sky now, so the visibility should soon improve. I’m enjoying the silence, the serenity of floating in the water, with my long hair plastered down my ears, blocking out the chirping birds.
The eerie silence is almost like diving, only without the crushing weight of the water pressing against me. But I can’t see my bracelet anywhere, and no doubt the servants will be out cleaning up soon. I adjust my angle again and am just about to come up for more air when something grabs my waist and flips me over in the water.
I scream and flail, gulp water instead of air, with visions of a shark attacking vivid in my mind. Beating and kicking, I paddle hard to get out of the water, my hair obscuring my vision.
Whatever grabbed me is no longer touching me, but I kick back to the side of the pool frantically anyway, still coughing, still seeing nothing. My knuckles collide with the wall of the pool, but I ignore the pain, scraping my knees as I struggle out of the water. My arms are shaking so badly I can’t lift myself up to get out of the pool
“Calm the fuck down!” a man yells behind me. “You’ll hurt yourself. It’s alright.”
He places his hands on my hips and lifts me from the water.
I’m panting now, but at least I’m not swallowing water anymore. I brush my hair from my eyes and stand up, though my legs are shaking so hard I’ll probably just topple back down even if I succeed.
The guy is still in the water, eyeing me like I’m insane. “Are you alright?”
I nod as I finally manage to stand.
He hoists himself from the water in one fluid motion. His white t-shirt is plastered against his chest, and his grey pants hug his legs tightly. He’s all muscle, from his biceps, to his shoulders, chest, and stomach that ripples in a neat six-pack. And not those chiseled for-show muscles that otherwise thin guys have. He’s bulky, twice as wide as any guy I know. Even his legs. No wonder he had no problem tossing me out of the pool.
“Are you alright?” he asks again, standing right in front of me now.
I quickly look up into his face, hoping he didn’t notice me checking him out before. He can’t be much older than me, I see now. His short blond hair looks black near his scalp, but stands up in light colored spikes all over his head. His eyes are either blue or grey—the kind of eyes that change color according to the light. And deep. I could stare at his eyes all day long just to see what I could see.
“Are you high?” he asks. I shake my head a little too sharply and feel my boobs bounce around under my tank. My wet white tank, which isn’t covering me up at all right now if the state of his shirt is anything to go by. A thought to cover myself up flitters through my mind, but it’s distant and sounds ridiculous.
His eyes leave my face and travel down, taking me in. He likes what he sees, and I can feel it. It’s like his gaze is fire, and whatever he’s thinking is bringing my blood to a boil, warming me.
His eyes return to my face, my parted lips. His are slightly parted too, like he’s breathing hard, but I don’t hear it.
“What were you doing in the pool? You scared me to death,” he says, his eyes soft now, and his lips curl into a sheepish grin. “I thought you were dead.”
I shake my head again, this time catching my boobs under my arm. “I thought I lost something in the pool. My bracelet… but I can’t find it.”
He turns back to the pool. The ripples from my flight have still not died down completely, and the surface is an opaque white now, reflecting the sky.
“I doubt you’ll find it in there, not now at least. Wait ’til the sun comes up, maybe,” he says and shrugs like he doesn’t think I’ll ever find it.
“I have to find the bracelet,” I say too loudly, too shrilly.
He holds his hands up like he’s wading me off. “Alright, alright, I’m just saying, wait ’til the sun comes up.”
I look up at the sky, checking to see if the sun is anywhere near up. “Everyone will be up by then.”
He smiles at me again. “I can help you look, I guess.”
I let my arms fall to my sides and turn to the pool. My boobs bounce and that hungry look is back in his eyes. They look brown now, almost black. It’s like he’s touching me with his look, and my nipples, erect and clearly visible through my tank prickle like he’d just run his fingers over them. A ball of heat erupts between my legs, heavy and urgent. Somehow, all I can think of are his arms around my hips, and his cock, so plainly outlined by his wet pants, pressing into me. I really want to go for another dip in the pool with him. I can’t remember any other guy ever turning me on so fast, so hard.
“Gail!” Brandon’s whiny voice rips through my fantasy of me and this pool boy entwined in the water. “What’s happening? Is he harassing you?”
Brandon’s footsteps thump through the grass toward us, and the pool boy takes a step away from me, crossing his arms over his chest. I mimic his motion, and face away from Brandon. Likely, his yells have awoken the whole house. A dark shadow passes over the pool boy’s eyes, and he’s staring at Brandon, but he stays quiet.
“I’m fine,” I say and turn to Brandon. He picks up a towel and wraps it around my shoulders, keeping his arm there too like he owns me.
“Your girlfriend lost something,” the pool boy says. “You should keep a better eye on her.”
I shake off Brandon’s arm. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
Somehow, it’s very important that the pool boy knows this. Softness flashes across his eyes but is gone again in an instant.
He turns and walks toward the gardening tools he tossed on the ground by the pool when he thought he had to save me.
I take a step after him, my arm stretched out like I want to pull him back. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I was warm before, when he was looking at me, and now I’m cold.
I cover the gesture by wrapping the towel tighter around myself. “Do you need some dry clothes? I can bring you something.”
He bends over and picks up a hoe off the ground. “Don’t worry about me. I have a change of clothes in my truck.”
Brandon’s next to me, trying to place his arm around me again. I step to the side, and his arm flails through the air. I could swear pool boy chuckles a little seeing it, but I’m not sure. Maybe it’s just what I want to see. I want him to want me.
The sun finally peeks over the fence, and something glimmers a few steps away from me in the grass.
I lunge for it, making both Brandon and the pool boy start.
“My bracelet!” I ‘m clutching it so tightly the charms dig painfully into my palm. I know my face is a mask of deranged glee, but I can’t help it.
The pool boy picks up the rest of his tools and shakes his head, muttering something that could be ‘crazy rich chick,’ but I may be wrong.
“Do you want to go inside? Get warmed up?” Brandon asks. He’s hovering next to me again, standing between the pool boy and me. Going in with him is the last thing I want to do. Pool boy is already at the far side of the garden.
I shake my head and run toward the hole in the fence, wishing Brandon never showed up and I was dipping in the pool with, well, pool boy. I need to find out his name. Pool boy is a dumb nickname. Especially since he’s obviously the gardener.
Dad is standing on the patio and sipping his coffee, his eyes glazed. I’m not even sure he sees me approach.
“How’s Mom?” I ask, forestalling any questions from him and making sure he knows I’m sober and ready for bed.
“She’s asleep now. Try not to wake her.”
I slip past him, not wanting to share his grief. It multiplies when we’re together, breeds, grows, and expands until it’s all there is, and I can’t breathe. A week or so is all Mommy has left. All the doctors agree. I hope they’re wrong. Every second of every minute, I hope they’re wrong. And right now, I’d rather loose myself in the fantasy of pool boy and me in the pool than hope for anything at all.
Want to read on?
Not Looking for Love Episode 1 is now available for purchase @ Amazon US | Amazon UK