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Love from Amanda to Zoey

Blurb

Everything comes easy for Zach Johnston. Only 24 years old, he’s got it all– the girl, the high paying tech job, and the rent-controlled apartment in the Village. But when his best friend overdoses and his girlfriend leaves him, his inability to connect with other people overwhelms him.

Desperate to hide his pain from Amanda, the ex who met “11 out of 13 criteria” on his friend’s most important checklist, Zach plasters on a smile as he rejoins his single friends chasing girls at seedy bars and grungy apartments, hoping the emptiness inside him will disappear if he pretends it doesn’t exist. As he descends into a haze of weed, booze, and hallucinogens, Zach recognizes his remaining friendships for what they are— partnerships of convenience, forged long ago simply on the shared desire to get high and get laid, continuing to this day because the effort required to replace them is too great. He also turns his judgmental lens inwards and begins to understand the consequences of his one night stands and shameless flirting, and the perils of assuming everyone he meets is dumber than he is.

At the peak of this crisis of confidence, Zach meets Zoey Mclemore, the beautiful, intelligent woman he has always told himself he could love and marry. Eating caramels sober with her is better than being drunk or high with anyone else. But when Zoey finds Zach drunk and alone with Amanda, he knows he must show Zoey he is ready to be an adult, or face never watching Spongebob with her again.

Equal parts whimsical romantic comedy and cynical literary fiction, LOVE FROM AMANDA TO ZOEY is the story of a successful man who doesn’t feel like he’s successful or a man, and his struggle to understand the meanings of life and Zoey’s latest text.

Buy Links

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Indiebound

Excerpt

While I walked to the Italian restaurant that I had picked out (Zoey had told me the onus was on me after she had managed to find the only caramel place in the Tri-state area for our first meeting), I rehearsed my opening lines. I rehearsed a few anecdotes that I could share. I rehearsed laughing at her spontaneous and relevant anecdotes that I was sure she would have regardless of the subject matter.

I saw her seated at a table in the corner when I got there. It was a small place, consisting of two “rooms” that were only separated by a frame that came down from the ceiling for a foot or so and than receded. She was seated in the back, near the bar. The bar had a white marble countertop and high black chairs crafted out of thin metal. The tables were a similar style, with thin twisting metal covered by burgundy tablecloths. She waved. Her hair was down, and she was wearing an olive blouse that was more revealing than what she had worn for caramels. Her jeans were a deep dark blue, almost black. I pretended not to see her, and had a waiter lead me over. He was a suave Italian man who spoke with a thick accent. It sounded too strong to be real. I figured it was supposed to contribute to the illusion that we were dining in Florence or Rome rather than SoHo. I thanked him and looked at Zoey. She frowned. I stuck out a hand.

“I’m Zach. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She didn’t laugh.

“Oh, don’t do that. You can come up with something better, can’t you?” I sat down.

“Well, then. There goes all the lines I rehearsed.” I sighed. She laughed.

“See? That was funny. Not that cheesy pretend this is our first date all over again stuff. You’re funny when you stop thinking about what you say.”

“Thank you? I think?” I took off my coat and folded it over the back of my chair.

“That was a compliment.” She picked up the menu. “Let’s get drinks. I’ve had a long day.”

“I’ll focus on the positive parts of it. And yeah, me too.” I signaled over the waiter. I opened my mouth.

“Can we get a bottle of the house Pinot Grigio?” The words didn’t come from me. Zoey smiled at me as the waiter wrote down her order and took the wine list. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“It’s fine. But if we’re smashing the patriarchy, you better pick up the check.” She smiled wider.

“Well, I’m not completely opposed to chauvinism.” I snorted. I looked over the menu.

“So if I’m not allowed to pretend this is our first date, I assume I can’t ask again what you do for a living?” I looked at her over the edge of my menu.

“Well you wouldn’t, except you never asked me that last time.” She didn’t look up from her menu.

“I didn’t?” I put down the menu.

“It’s okay, you were just concerned with making sure I understood anti-humor.” I groaned and she laughed. “I’m a grad student at Columbia.” I stood up.

“Well then, I think I better be going.” Her eyebrows raised and her mouth opened.

“What, why?”

“Us NYU Bobcats don’t mix with you highbrow types.” I sat back down. We giggled. Our wine arrived. I poured us each a glass. “What are you studying?”

“Particle physics.” I looked up. A little wine spilled on the table. She studied my reaction carefully.

“Wow, that’s impressive. There aren’t many women in physics, are there?”

“No, but there are probably more than there are in computer science.” She took a sip of her wine. “Mmm, that’s good. I love wine.”

“Touché,” I said. I racked my brain for what I remembered about particle physics from the one class I had taken sophomore year. “So, string theory?”

“Is a thing in physics, yes. Let’s not do that, though.”

“Do what?” I went back to the menu.

“I’ll promise not to pretend to know how to program if you promise not to make me explain the universe to you.” She leaned down and blew out the candles that were sitting on the table. I frowned.

“What did you do that for?” The waiter, I think his name was Marco, brought over fresh bread. I ripped a piece and Zoey passed me a pat of butter.

“I don’t like the flame, it worries me.” I spread the butter on the bread.

“Really?”

“There’s a scenario I see playing out where the candle is knocked over, the tablecloth catches fire, and the whole place burns down in a fiery inferno. We escape, barely, but they expect us to pay for all the damages.” She said all this quickly, then looked at me to see how I reacted. She was showing me her weird side way earlier than she was supposed to.

“That’s all right, I’m paying for dinner, remember?” She smiled and I continued, “So that includes any fire-related charges.” I bit into the warm bread. “You have to try this bread, it’s the reason I come here.”

“You bring all the girls here?” She took a piece of bread and bit into it.

“Just the ones my mother sets me up with. By the way, if we’re sharing strange things we do in restaurants-”

“It’s not strange to dislike fire.”

“No, but it’s strange to have a whole scene playing out in your head as a the reason for disliking it.”

“Fair enough, go ahead. What do you do? Eat with your hands? Order only appetizers?” She put down her menu and rested her head on her hands. She was interested, it seemed. “I’m interested.”

“I like to sit facing the door.” She faked being offended.

“Are you really asking me, a lady, to move?”

“I wasn’t asking anything, I was just informing you of a preference I have. Now, if you were to take that information and choose to offer to switch seats with me, I wouldn’t object…” I trailed off and snuck a peek at her cleavage. She noticed. I’m sure she did.

“Well, it just so happens that I also like to sit facing the door. I watch for assassins.”

“Me too! Well, more like I watch for people I don’t like so I can avoid them. But I imagine I wouldn’t like assassins very much.” I finished the bread and reached for another piece.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you, how’s that? If an assassin comes in looking for you, or if your mother were to have just walked in, I’d let you know.”

“Jeez,” I said, laughing, “I don’t know which would be worse, an assassin or my mother.” Zoey’s eyes got wide. She shook her head.

“I certainly do hope you’re kidding.” My mother’s voice was icy. I turned around. She was wearing a purple evening gown and had her arm linked with Edward’s. That smug bastard nodded politely at me.

“Oh, Mom, what’re you doing here?” She looked at me with derision.

“I decided, on my first night in a new city, to try a restaurant that my loving son who would never compare me to an assassin recommended. What’re you doing here, and have you seen my son?”

Author Bio

Ian Mark first dipped his toes into the writing waters as a high school senior when his essay equating college admissions with dating was published in Boston Globe Magazine.

After a string of one-night standard applications he hooked up with NYU and spent the next 3 years immersed in Manhattan (and yes, sigh, occasionally Brooklyn) nightlife.

He graduated Phi Beta Kappa and magna cum laude with a B.A in English and American Literature in 2015.

Forgoing a lucrative career in… uh… Englishonomics maybe?

Ian placed his degree somewhere he cannot remember and absconded to Los Angeles, CA, where he hosts The Pasadonuts Improv Livestream every week and works as an actor in film and television.

His writing has appeared in Hive Magazine, Outrageous Fortune, CelticsBlog, the Newton Tab, and Washington Square News.

He grew up in Newton, MA, where he perfected the art of faking illness to skip school and read novels all day.

After reading a thousand or so he began imagining writing his own.

After a hundred more he jumped in the deep end.

His debut novel Love from Amanda to Zoey was published by Simon & Schuste/Omnific Valentine’s Day 2018.

He has no children or pets.

Author Links

Twitter/Facebook/Insta @TheRealIanMark or see more at ianmark.ptnt.com

Meet the Author

Q: When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

I never wanted to be a writer. I read tons of novels growing up and I was convinced you had to be insane to write a novel. When I got to NYU I had insomnia, and often the only thing that tired me out enough to fall asleep was writing down the bizarre ideas sprinting through my brain. I write because the words demand to be let out.

Q: How long does it take you to write a book?

I like to spend a few months thinking about the central questions driving the work, baking them in my subconscious oven. I wrote my debut novel Love from Amanda to Zoey over spring break freshman year— 10,000 words a day for six days. My second novel Just a Dream was more ambitious and took about 45 days spread between winter break sophomore year and the summer after. I’ve been baking my third novel for the last 4 years.

Q: What is your work schedule like when you’re writing?

I like to write in chunks of about 2,000 words. For Love from Amanda to Zoey, I did 5 chunks a day— I wrote when I woke up, after I ate breakfast, before and after I ate lunch, and before dinner. During writing Just a Dream, I had other obligations, so I wrote 2,000 words right when I woke up (or after I’d had my coffee). I find that writing by word count makes it so when I finish for the day, I know where I’ll start tomorrow. Then throughout the rest of the day it’ll cross my mind frequently and I’ll think about it differently than during active writing.

Q: What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?

Writing is easy for me. A lot of writer culture fetishizes the struggle of the blank page— the accoutrements and circumstances needed to produce are mind-boggling to me. If writing was as hard for me as so many writers say it is for them, I wouldn’t write. Writing lets me escape— it doesn’t matter what’s going on or where I am, when I start letting the words out the rest of the world drops away.

Q: Where do you get your information or ideas for your books?

My first novel was just an attempt to write a novel— when I started I wasn’t sure I’d finish it. It was inspired by the thousand novels I read growing up. My second was driven by my questions about the nature of reality. Namely, does objective reality exist? Is shared reality necessary to the human experience? If pushing a button could send me to a dream utopia designed just for me, why wouldn’t I push the button?

Q: When did you write your first book and how old were you?

I was 18 when I wrote the first draft of Love from Amanda to Zoey, as mentioned earlier.

Q: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I am also an actor, director, and improviser. While I love the solitary creative bliss of crafting a novel, with every word and comma mine and exactly where I want them to be, acting and improv connect me to other people in a way writing does not. Pursuing creative nirvana in those realms requires collaborating, giving up control, allowing myself to live in the moment. Basically, I like to be creative as possible in as many ways as possible. And when I’m done for the day and my mind is turning to mush, I like watching my hometown teams the Pats and the Celtics.

Q: How many books have you written? Which is your favourite?

I’ve written two. My favorite is Just a Dream— I wrote 90,000+ words trying to determine the necessity of reality, and I still can’t figure out if I’d push the button or not.

Q: Do you have any suggestions to help me become a better writer? If so, what are they?

Read a lot. Write a lot. If you’re not doing those things you might as well not try. I read so many books that when I tried to write my brain had thousands of examples of things I like writers doing and things I don’t like writers doing. You have to know what’s been done before you can innovate, or even imitate. Forget what other people like— write things that make you happy to read them. The chief aim should be to fulfill yourself, not to make money or become famous.

Q: Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say?

The comment I get over and over again for both novels and other pieces I’ve written is this: “I could really see this as a movie or tv show.” The comparisons I hear most for Just a Dream are Inception and The Matrix. I don’t know if it’s my writing style or the ideas I like to tackle but people across a wide range of demographics seem to want to see my stories come to life on the big screen.

Q: What do you think makes a good story?

I’ve spent many, many hours thinking about this. When we sit down to open a book we’re looking for lots of things: compelling characters, elegant worlds, surprising plot twists, and many more elements. Above all else, I think we’re hoping to be taken on an emotional journey. To me, all satisfying narratives take the reader through a series of ups and downs, emotional variances that play a melody across our heartstrings, each note necessary to make the next one resonate, so that when we reach the final page, we’re ready for the harmony’s resolution, that one final feeling. I won’t care about Zach finding love with Zoey unless I’ve already felt something about each of them. Emotional arcs are more important than anything else. My third novel aims to tell a complete story without time. That is, instead of a beginning, middle, and end linked by a few characters experiencing things within a certain period of time, the same minute will repeat over and over from dozens of povs. I believe that if I play the emotional notes in the right order, when readers finish the book it will feel like a complete story has unfolded, despite no time passing.

Q: As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?

I spent the vast majority of my time playing football and basketball, watching football and basketball, and playing video game football and basketball. As you might guess, I wanted to play in the NFL or NBA.

The Perilously Pretty Series

Series: The Perilously Pretty Series
Author: Haven Cage
Genre: Dark Historical Romance Suspense
Craving Love & Death Release: October 6, 2017
Coveting Love & Revenge Release: June 12, 2019
 
 
She’s a voluptuous pin-up with a killer personality.
Vivienne may play the role of a quiet, docile nightclub singer and waitress for her friends and family, but, behind closed doors, she gives into an insatiable hunger no man can escape.

 

She just wants to ignore her disturbing temptations. However, when Vivie’s best friend convinces her to join an impromptu double-date with two handsome sailors, her plan gets blown to bits.

 

Sexy, dark, and sly, Naval Lieutenant Dean Vitson may be the only man who can give Vivie a reason to nix her “bad habits”–but he’s running from his own dirty past. And his secrets could turn her world upside down.

 

Can Vivienne change her murderous ways to be with Dean?
Will she want to after she finds out what he’s hiding?

 

Synthia will do anything for her daughter – even murder.
1871, high-society Savannah, Georgia.

 

Penniless and jaded governess, Synthia James, is trapped with her employer, a man she once loved but now despises. His obsession with money and stature has corrupted them both. When he bids their young housemaid to kill a man who threatens his business, Synthia’s maternal instincts take over, and she commits the heinous deed herself.
Now there’s another business enemy… and her former beau wants him dead. But the new cotton farmer has revived Synthia’s long-forgotten passions.
 
With blood on her hands already, Synthia is prepared to kill again. But who? The new business partner for her daughter’s sake, or her greedy lover for morality and freedom?
“Brilliant”- Stracey Charran Ishwar
 
“Dark and stunning” – Ria from Reading Is Our Satisfaction
 
“Hard to put down” – Cheryl J.
 
 
Haven Cage lives in the Carolinas with her husband and son. After many years of dabbling with drawing, painting, and working night shift in the medical field, she decided to try her hand at writing. Unfortunately, her love for books came later in life and proved to add a healthy challenge during her writing journey. Determined to hone her craft though, she soaks up as much information as she can, spends her free time tapping away in her favorite local coffee shop, and keeps a good book in hand whenever possible. 
 

 

What began as a hobby has grown into a way of escape and the yearning to take her journey farther, her love for writing and reading deepening along the way.

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Revenge

Title: Revenge
Series: Revenge #1
Author: Christine Besze
Genre: Dark Romance
Release Date: June 14, 2019


Six years they stole from me.
Six years I’ve done my time.
Six years I’ve waited.
Six years I’ve heard her screams over and over.
No more.
It’s time to collect.
And it’s their blood that will be spilled.
Asher Savage spent his life protecting the innocent, taking monsters off the streets. He never thought he’d become one.
 
Charlee Vega was a pawn in a game she never knew she was playing. An innocent caught up in a war of greed and hate.
 
Revenge has fed his monster for years, but it comes at a price. Is it one he’s still willing to have her pay?
 
She’s a means to an end. A complication he never saw coming. And sometimes those are the most deadly of all.
***This book is a stand alone and contains mature/graphic subject matter. For readers 18+***

 

Christine Besze is a writer, reader, mother, wife, and lover of all things wine. She lives in her own world of crazy most days, because the voices inside her head hold some great conversation. When she does have to come back to reality and act like an actual grown-up, she spends her time with her handsome hubby Z, their two gorgeous gingers and their mini-herd of German Shepherds. Born in sunny Southern California, she recently made the big leap with her family to the East Coast and couldn’t be happier. You’ll still find her in flip-flops–with a full glass of wine–all year round.

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His Peace Her Pleasure

 

 
Title: His Peace Her Pleasure
Author: Keke Renee
 
 
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
 
 
 
Peaches Ellinson is done with love and relationships. From now on, the Harvard-educated teacher wants to focus on building her dreams. She knows one day, with hard work and true grit, she’ll leave nude modeling behind and become the next great artist and revered gallery owner.
 
Santiago Garcia has no problems winning over hearts and minds … until he meets Peaches.
 
She’s unlike any woman he’s ever known, and that’s what makes him want her more. 
 
The harder Peaches tries to resist, the more difficult it is to deny herself the pleasure and give in to her desires. 
 
Will Santiago convince her to follow her heart or will she keep her head and her heart in the game?
 
 

Wet Heat

 

Title: Wet Heat
Author: Keke Renee
 
 
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
 
Chelsey Hayden lives by strict codes under her family’s name. When you’re a Hayden, you follow the rules and never stray. Especially when it comes to her brother’s friends being off limits, no matter how handsome and sexy they are. She comes from a wealthy family that has set her life according to plan from school, to marriage, and career. That is until the dynamics change and her path crosses with the one she wants to break all the rules for, but she’s scared — scared she’ll reveal her deepest, darkest desires and there will be no turning back.
 
Xavier Hardy is a man from a humble beginning, working a nine to five, while paying off debt and taking care of his family. Falling for his best friends sister wasn’t in the cards. He knows what he wants, and right now, he wants Chelsey, the curvaceoues beauty he can’t get out of his head. Now if only he could convince her to explore her desires and give into temptation.
 
If lust takes over, this once off-limits relationship could spiral out of control. Are they ready to test the boundaries.
Follow the Author
 
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A Knife’s edge

Title: A Knife’s Edge           
Author: Eliot Parker
Genre: Thriller, LGBT
Cover Designer: Ashley Belote
Editors: Kat Mazurak and Rogena Mitchell-Jones
Publisher: Headline Books
Blurb:
Will her secrets put his life in danger?
Six months after a drug cartel infiltrated Charleston, Police Agent Ronan McCullough continues to fight the drug war that plagues the city. His investigations are halted when the body of a mutual acquaintance, Sarah Gilmore, is found in the trunk of a burning car.
In an investigation that takes him deep into the professional and personal life of the victim, McCullough discovers secrets lurking in her past, and a tangled web of personal and professional conflicts, suspicion, and betrayal.
Sarah’s life is connected to BTech, a new blood diagnostics company that has established a headquarters in Charleston, promising to revolutionize the way diseases are diagnosed and treated and aid the police in criminal investigations. Sarah’s work reveals details about BTech that the company doesn’t want anyone else to know.
Was Sarah killed for those reasons or something larger? As Ronan seeks answers, his life and the lives of those closest to him are used as pawns in a deadly game that has no ending.
Sequel to the Award-winning novel Fragile Brilliance.
Eliot Parker is the author of four novels, most recently A Knife’s Edge, which was an Honorable Mention in Thriller Writing at the London Book Festival, and is the sequel to the award-winning novel Fragile Brilliance. His novel Code for Murder was named a 2018 Finalist for Genre Fiction by American Book Fest. He is a recipient of the West Virginia Literary Merit Award and Fragile Brilliance was a finalist for the Southern Book Prize in Thriller Writing. He recently received with the Thriller Writing Award by the National Association of Book Editors (NABE) for his novels. Eliot is the host of the podcast program Now, Appalachia, which profiles authors and publishers living and writing in the Appalachian region and is heard on the Authors on the Air Global Radio Network and Blog Talk Radio. A graduate of the Bluegrass Writers Studio at Eastern Kentucky University with his MFA in Creative Writing and Murray State University with his Doctorate in English, he teaches English at the University of Mississippi and lives in Oxford, Mississippi and Chesapeake, Ohio.
Author Links:
Ronan opened one eye. The thick haze of fractured debris made his eyes burn.
He spat, trying to clear the dust from his nose and throat. He wiped the back of his uniform sleeve across his eyes and blinked twice. When the scene became clearer, he found the room had been reduced to rubble by the impact. A smoldering, jagged hole had ruptured the skin of the building, like a busted pipe.
Ronan stared at the ceiling. The force of the collision had buckled the outer wall of Clay Center and the spiral metal staircase had collapsed when the roof partially caved in on it.
Sore, but generally unhurt, Ronan noted thin streams of blood on his hand. Instinctively, he drew it closer. He felt warm tingling on his forehead. With the other hand, Ronan touched the area. A fresh speck of blood coated his fingertips. He began quizzing himself silently. He was able to recall his name, where he lived, and his birthdate. Although not exact, the impromptu assessment told him he didn’t have a concussion.
Ronan pulled himself up to a seated position. The atrium smelled of sulfur. Flecks of ruptured electrical writing hung loose from the ceiling and surrounding walls. Ronan could hear the pained groans of people around him. From across the room, a woman screamed, causing others around her to start trying to move.
Then it clicked. Ty. Ronan called out his name. He heard nothing but the dull buzzing of a bent streetlight that had been plowed over by the collision and now hung at an odd angle like a bowed tree.
Ronan called out for Ty again. The screams from the woman across the room subsided and she begged for help.
In moments of chaos and disaster, Ronan knew to focus on one task at time. The first order he gave himself was finding Ty. Ronan pulled himself to his feet. His vision blurred for a moment as a wave of dizziness overcame him. He closed his eyes for a second, held his breath, and waited for the blood in his head to equalize. Luckily, it worked.
Now clear-headed, Ronan looked around him. The scene resembled a war-zone. Tables had been overturned, the dais at the front of the room had been pushed back and shattered into the wall. Bricks and mortar speckled the floor. Dust was everywhere, clouding the air. Many of the guests were seriously injured.
The buffet table that hugged the wall in front of Ronan before the collision had been smashed. Food lay scattered across the room in colored clumps. Ronan took inventory of the damage. Near the far end of the buffet line, Ronan saw the man that had pointed into the plaza outside. He lay on one side, bent at his waist, with a large column of bricks and steel piled onto him.
Ronan raced over and lifted some of the bricks from his body and pulled back what pieces of steel he could grab. Ronan winced as a jagged piece of steel cut his finger, trickling a new stream of blood over his hand. Despite Ronan’s removing the excessive weight, the man did not move. After a few more seconds, Ronan was able to see the man’s face. It was badly smashed and the bones in his face had shattered like glass. Ronan reached down and placed two fingers on his neck. There was no pulse and his skin felt cold. He was dead.
This was the first discovered casualty. There would be more.

Day Three

Title: Day Three: A Hitman Romance
Series: What Bad Boys Do Book 1
Author: L. Wilder
Genre: Romantic Suspense (Standalone)
Release Date: June 11, 2019

L. Wilder definitely sucked me in with this new hitman romance. This fast-paced romantic suspense will keep you on the edge-of-your-seat until the very end. ~Author RB Hilliard

OMG!!!! Five stars +! What a fantastic read. Day Three is the first book in a new series and it is everything you want in a L. Wilder book. ~Brenda (Amazon reviewer)

 

That prologue – wow!!! If the blurb didn’t already hook you, that sure will! Or maybe it’s the sexy man on the cover???! I absolutely loved everything about this story! It’s unlike anything I have read before. ~Jessica (Goodreads reviewer)

There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.

 

New York Times and USA Today Best Seller L. Wilder brings readers Jasper Nichols, a sexy, totally alpha hitman, who will hold you captive in this new bad boy series.
Our lives are defined by moments, especially the ones we never see coming. For me, that moment came when I was given the opportunity to take from those who’d taken from me. I became a hitman- killing mob bosses, drug lords and everything in between. With judges in their pockets, these men were untouchable by everyone—except me.
With every hit, my plan was always the same:
Day one- receive the target.
Day two- acquire their location.
Day three- plan the kill.
Day four- complete the hit.
On day three of my latest assignment, everything changed.
The moment I saw her, I knew she was different from the others. Madison Brooks wasn’t a hardened criminal with blood on her hands. She was innocent, untouched by my world, and undeniably beautiful.
On day three, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I kept imagining what it would be like to hold her, touch her, and claim her as mine.
On day three, I found myself questioning whether or not I could complete my assignment. In fact, I found myself questioning everything.
Many readers were introduced to the sexy, brooding recluse, Jasper Nichols, in Murphy: Satan’s Fury- Memphis, but his connection to Satan’s Fury ends there. Day Three is a new standalone romance novel with no cheating and a swoon-worthy HEA.

 

 

“I thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” He ran his hand over his face and yawned before he said, “When I tried to leave, you wouldn’t let me.”

​“What do you mean I wouldn’t let you?” 

​“Let me rephrase.” He turned and looked at me. “You asked me to stay with you.”

​“Oh. I don’t remember that.” 

“Happened just the same.” Concern flashed through his eyes as he sat up and asked, “How’s the ankle?”

I tried to move it a little. “I can’t say for sure, but I think it’s better.”

“Good.” Jasper got out of bed and my breath caught when I noticed he was only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. I could feel the heat rush to my face as my eyes skirted over his muscular chest and drool-worthy abs. I couldn’t imagine how often he’d have to work out to get such a perfectly defined physique. Whatever the answer, it was worth it. With his chiseled jaw and broad, powerful shoulders, he looked like a Greek god as he walked over to the end of the bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he eased the comforter back and exposed my ankle. I was too busy gawking at him to realize what he was doing, but at that moment, I just didn’t care. He could’ve thrown the covers to the floor and had his way with me. I wouldn’t have protested. He lowered his hand to my foot, and a rush of heat surged through my body when he ran the tips of his fingers along the top of it and over my ankle bone. It was at that moment I started to silently curse myself, wishing I’d been better about shaving my legs. He was still studying my ankle when he said, “The swelling has gone down, but it’s still pretty bruised.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“You’ll need to stay off of it for a couple of days.”

“Okay.” 

As he pulled the covers back over my foot, he told me, “I’ll be right back.”
Leslie Wilder grew up in a small town in West Tennessee. A country girl at heart, she’s always thought that life is too short, but she had no idea how short it really was until her brother passed away in 2014. She’s always been an avid reader, loving the escape only a great book can give, and wondered if she had what it took to write one of the wild romances she’d come to adore. With the support of her family and friends, she published Inferno: A Devil Chaser’s MC, one year after her brother’s death. With him in mind, she fulfilled her lifetime dream of writing. Since then, she’s completed the Devil Chaser’s Series and continued on with the Satan’s Fury MC Series. She has so many stories in her head, and can’t wait to share each and every one.
Leslie has been blown away by the support of her readers, appreciating every message, review, and encouraging word she’s received over the past year. She looks forward to continuing this journey with them for years to come.

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