These books will have you laughing out loud, then swooning, then fanning yourself, then laughing out loud again. They’re everything a high-heat, high hilarity romantic comedy should be.
Dancing with the Single Dad audiobook is finally live.
I’m probably going to say this about each audiobook when it comes out, but I’m honestly so in love with the way Gregory Salinas and Erin Bateman brought Adam and Violet to life. Gregory nailed the slight southern twang, and gave Adam the perfect blend of shy but quiet alpha qualities I was going for. And Erin truly brought everything I envisioned Violet to be completely to life.
I’ll also admit that since this is only book two in The Single Dads of Seattle and I wrote it back in early 2019, it was like revisiting old friends when I listened to the whole story. There were scenes I forgot about, hilarious one-liners I forgot I’d wrote. In a lot of ways it was like reading a brand new book (well, not brand new, but darn close). I’ve written a lot of books since writing Dancing with the Single Dads, and since I’ve written SO MANY single dads it can be tough to keep track of them. I caught myself laughing a lot. I’d even say under my breath, “I’m fucking hilarious.” The dog would then turn around to look at me like I was crazy. I’d tell him to keep moving and finally crap somewhere.
I also forgot about how deeply emotional this book was. Violet deals with the loss of Jean-Phillipe and her father, and Adam is dealing with the end of his marriage. It’s some heavy shit. And those sex scenes!!! Again, I forgot about a lot of this book, including that college professor office scene. I’m sure my cheeks were bright red if anybody passed me while I was walking. Hopefully they just assumed I was flushed from exercise and the warm weather, and not the dirty words I’d written.
I loved Gregory as Adam so much that I’ve decided to cast him again. I’m confident that he will do an awesome job as Aaron Steele in Living with the Single Dad, Book 4 of The Single Dads of Seattle. I’ve also decided to cast Zachary Johnson (Mark from Hired by the Single Dad) as Zak for Christmas with the Single Dad, Book 5 of the The Single Dads of Seattle.
I can’t wait to hear what you guys think about the newest audiobook. I hope you love the narrators as much as I do.
The narrators for Saved by the Single Dad are hard at work bringing Paige and Mitch to life, so hopefully that audiobook can go live this fall.
Hanging up your dancing shoes isn’t so easy when you can’t let go of your former dance partner.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to the Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy, single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again.
This is Adam’s story….
Single dad of Seattle Adam Eastwood knows that dance school is just the thing for his precocious daughter, Mira. She already spends most days twirling around the house in a tutu and tiara, why not pay a professional to teach her how to do it properly? Only Adam didn’t account for that professional to be the Violet Benson from a very famous New York ballet company. Not only is Violet a natural beauty who floats more than she dances, but she’s the kind of woman Adam’s been searching for all his life.
Grieving the loss of her dance partner and boyfriend, Violet is done with performing on stage. How can she go on when the love of her life is no longer there to catch her? Deciding a change is best, she moves back home to Seattle, determined to fulfill their dream of opening up a dance school. It’s not until she’s asked to dance for Art in the Park that she realizes maybe she’s not quite ready to hang up her dance shoes. Would it be wrong to take the stage one last time? It must be wrong to feel what she feels when she’s dancing with Mira’s handsome father.
Adam’s wounds are still fresh from his divorce, and Violet’s dealing with a loss of her own, but somehow they keep winding up in each other’s arms with neither of them willing to let go. But it’s never easy to conquer the past. Will Violet let fear and grief keep her from her dreams? Or will Adam convince her that the show must go on and dancing with the single dad might just be the way for her to find her happily ever after?
Note: This book can be listened to as a stand-alone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and, of course, as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliff-hanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
If you’re wondering where I’ve been the last few days and why the radio silence, it was because I took the little humans camping.
Well, not JUST camping. Last weekend, we finally got to celebrate my mom’s 60th birthday (which was April 14th). But because of COVID restrictions, we were forced to reschedule until now. My brother and his fiancee flew out from Canmore, Alberta, we booked a professional photographer and did a big family photo session. Then my brother, his fiancee, my husband and I all cooked all weekend long so that “the mothership” as we affectionately call her didn’t have to lift a finger. We went to the beach, sat around reminiscing, picked berries in the backyard, went for a hike, and just spent time together as a family. It was wonderful. Now, we impatiently wait as our brilliant photographer edits the photos. As an artist myself, I know that brilliance can’t be rushed (I’m totally saying all of this about myself sarcastically), but not getting to see the photos is legit driving my mom mental.
After the fun-filled family weekend, I packed up the girls and we went to Miracle Beach provincial park for two days of camping “fun.” I’m not a fan of sleeping on the ground. Never have been . Not even in my partying days where we drank until we were numb and passed out on the nearest flat surface. Even then, the ground was not my jam. But, it’s not all about me, so I pulled up my big girl panties, packed the RAV until it was close to bursting and set out for two days of dirty feet and sand everywhere.
WAY OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE!
Let’s just leave it at that. I’ve done the dirty hobo backpacker thing where you stink for days, your nails all break and no matter what you just can’t get your feet clean. Been there, done that, got the photos to back it up. But I’m also over it. I’m not twenty-five anymore. I threw my upper back and shoulder out using two computer screens for work. I want a little bit of luxury in my life. Like a bed. And a shower. And four sturdy walls around me that don’t flap in the breeze. I’m not asking for much. And, chastise me for saying this if you must, I’m also not a huge fan of sleeping with my children.
Don’t get me wrong, I love cuddling them, hugging them and showering them with all the love. But now that they’re not babies, they’re really fucking annoying to share a bed with. They’re movers, and the oldest one is like 90% limbs. Meanwhile, for some reason, even while sleeping, the Tiny Human just knows I’m there and wraps her arm around my neck like I’m a stuffed animal. Maybe she can sleep like that, but the Mama Bear sure as hell can’t.
And of course, what inaugural camping trip wouldn’t be complete without a popped air mattress? Certainly not ours. And on the first night, too! The three of us ended up rolling in toward the middle, piling up on each other. Thinking back on it all, it was hilarious and something we’ll be able to laugh about for years. But at time, I was a grumbling mess. How on earth could my three year old sleep through her sister crushing her while she simultaneously crushed me?
Anyway, we survived. They had fun, which was what it was all about, and now I know I need to make myself a “to pack” list and include butter/oil on it. Along with backup blow up mattresses.
But I went WAAAAAAY out of my comfort zone, that’s what I’m getting at here.
Kudos to those of you who love to camp, but you’re not my spirit animal and I think we can still be friends. Just don’t expect me to nod until my neck snaps if you suggest we go on a trip with tents into the back country. I’ll wave you off, give you a can of bear spray and say, “see you when you get back.”
At this point (if you’re still reading) you’re probably wondering where on earth is she going with this diatribe and how is going to circle it back to writing a Christmas story with ten POVs. Well, I am, just wait.
If you remember, a few years ago, I wrote Snowed In & Set Up. It was the first Christmas story I ever wrote, as well as the first third person POV story I ever wrote. Up until then all my stories were first person and ONLY in the POV of the heroine. Quick and Dirty, Lust Abroad, all of the Dark and Damaged Hearts.
Well, I got it in my head that this story needed to have six POVs. All three couples deserved equal “screen time” and the book just wouldn’t work from only a few POVs. So I dove headfirst into the murky stream of my own consciousness, completely unsure if I’d hit the bottom or glide right out into clearer water.
I took the plunge.
I took the leap.
And you know what?
It worked.
Loads of reviews indicate that readers were unsure how six POVs was going to work, but they were surprised and delighted that it did. Hey, if George R.R. Martin can bounce around in everybody’s brain, why can’t I? I am NOT comparing myself to the all powerful George, but I’m just saying, if he can do it, why can’t I try?
It was from that book on that I started writing all my books in third person with alternating POV. And I love it. I could never go back to singular POV and only if you twisted my arm (like my co-writing partner did) go back to first person POV.
So, when I got the idea to write the fifth and final Harty Boys book, I knew that I wanted to try my hand (or fingers) at another multi-POV story. And I figured this was the perfect opportunity to do it. Yes, of course, I want Joy to have screen time, as well as her hunk of burning love, Grant. But since Full Hart is meant to take place a couple of years after Dark Hart ended, I also wanted to give you real updates on all the Harty Boys and their families. So much has happened to this family over the years, that they each deserve to reflect on how far they’ve come in their own POVs.
So yes, Full Hart will be told from the point of view of ten different people. Brock and Krista, Chase and Stacey, Rex and Lydia, Heath and Pasha, and Joy and Grant. It will be jam-packed with funny moments, one-liners, sexy times, holiday cheer, angst, frustration and even a little bit of sadness. If you know me and my books, you know I keep things real. People die, women lose babies, men cry and the world keeps turning through it all.
You can definitely expect fun, sexy times in Full Hart, but be prepared for shit to also get real.
I’m taking the plunge with this book. Going way out of my comfort zone once again. I’ve gone from six POVs in Snowed In & Set Up to ten POVs. I didn’t stop in the middle at eight. Go big or go home, right?
Just like I did with camping on the ground with my children (because our mattress popped and we legit were ON THE GROUND) I’m trying something new. It might work, it might not. But at least I’m going to give it a go.
Even now, with her gone, that smile was what kept him getting up each morning and continuing with his life.
That smile … and the woman who had just shut her car door outside and was making her way up the path to his house.
Joy.
Could she have been named any more perfectly?
Because she certainly sparked joy in him.
She rekindled flames inside him he’d thought had long been extinguished, had long turned to nothing more than cold, damp coal.
Smiling, he glanced at Daphne’s photo. “You like her, don’t you?”
Daphne just showed him those blinding white teeth, dimples, and rosy cheeks.
She would have liked Joy.
He picked up both wine glasses and booked it to the front door, opening it just as she was lifting her little fist to knock.
Her smile winded him and her eyes twinkled. “I forget sometimes that you’re one of those kinds of men.”
“One of what kind?” he asked playfully, taking her overnight bag from her and handing her the stemless wine glass.
“Military trained with impeccable hearing, instincts, and senses. You probably knew I was in the neighborhood before I even parked my car.” She took a sip of the wine and made a sexy little humming sound in delight.
“Not quite, but I did hear you shut your car door.” He set her bag down on the arm of the couch, took her wine glass from her, and set both their glasses on the table beside Daphne’s photo. Then he wrapped his arms around her small frame, and she did the same to him.
He was over a foot taller than her, standing at six-one—he’d been six-three at his tallest, but age was causing him to shrink—and she was only four-eleven, but her personality made her appear so much taller.
With twinkling blue eyes, her ballerina bun tucked up on her crown with not a hair out of place, and fresh glossy lipstick, she tilted her head up to look at him. “Smells good. And I don’t just mean dinner.”
His chuckle came out raspy since his throat had suddenly gone dry as he mentally prepared himself for what he wanted to say.
“You smell good, too,” he said, ducking down and taking her mouth for a moment.
She hummed against his lips, parting hers so he could sweep his tongue inside. Her grip around his neck tightened and she pulled him down, pressing her hips against his.
Joy Hart was a passionate woman. She also knew her way around a man’s body and had taught Grant a thing or two about his own pleasure.
He’d been reluctant at first—even a little scared—but she was gentle and patient with him, and showed him just how much more he could enjoy sex with a little bit of imagination.
He’d felt like a bit of a chump when they first got together. Although he’d had ample sex in his life with Daphne, he’d only ever had sex with one woman. Joy was a lot more experienced than he was, and the fact that she was a sex and relationship therapist—specializing in sexuality—meant she was a lot more comfortable discussing things than he or Daphne had ever been.
Joy had even ironically nicknamed him Wild Man, not only because his last name was Wild, but because he wasn’t exactly “adventurous” or “worldly” in the bedroom.
Last night I went to do the stairs at Blueback Beach here in Nanaimo like I always do. Sometimes I do them in the morning, sometimes the evening, it really depends on how much work I have to do that day, and of course, the weather. Because if there is one thing a west coast baby like me knows, if you don’t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes. And today is no different. Ten minutes ago it was a torrential downpour and now the sun is peeking out behind light gray clouds and the powerlines look like they’ve been Bedazzled with diamonds.
But last night, when I went to do the stairs (FYI, it’s a set of 295 stairs down to the beach at a 40degree incline and I do them multiple times with and without weights and with and without resistance bands. I love this new workout and my husband has even commented on how nice my butt looks. I think it might be the Tik Tok leggings I bought, but he doesn’t agree.) Anyway, back to my point, last night while I was climbing the stairs, it started to rain, while the sun was still shining.
And it
W A S
M A G I C A L.
You have to walk down the stairs through the trees, so when I was under the canopy I barely got hit with drops, but as soon as I broke free from the cover, or landed on the beach I was drenched. The wind off the water was balmy and refreshing and the rain hitting my heated skin was instantly cooling. I caught myself smiling and laughing so many times as I listened to my dirty hip hop music and ’90s boybands. Yeah, that’s what get’s my ass moving. Pitbull and The Backstreet Boys. But as I climbed and panted, wiping the sweat and rain from my brow, I was transported back to 2012 when my husband and I went on our six-month, twelve-country honeymoon backpack trip.
We’d just been robbed in Miraflores, Peru, then he caught a horrible gastrointestinal bug in Cusco (two days before we planned to go to Machu Picchu), but because I married a thrifty bugger, he refused to spend the money on the bus ride up to Machu Picchu and insisted we hike up the 1500 stairs. Well, as you can image, being the Andes and the jungle, it started to rain while we hiked. But neither of us grimaced. Rather, we embraced it. It was magical. Warm and tropical. Is there really anything more relaxing, more brilliant than the sound of rain hitting leaves? Of Mother Nature feeding herself?
I took our experience traveling in Peru and the major roller coaster of events and emotions we experienced and cathartically turned it into a romance novel. Now, obviously, some events have been changed, names have been changed and we certainly weren’t pursued by drug traffickers, but so many of the emotions are spot on. We also met wonderful people who helped us along the way named Matt and Elissa (they’re in the book!)
Look at how young, innocent and fresh-faced we were. Not yet hardened and aged by having wild children with even wilder hair.
But, even after being robbed, the hubby getting sick and me nearly getting arrested because I let my temper flare a little too brightly when I went back to speak with the receptionist at the hostel where we were robbed, our bond, our love, and our obsession with each other never waivered. In our entire six-months, we only fought once. And it wasn’t even so much of a fight as it was him getting frustrated and telling me to stop sulking about being robbed and ruining the good parts of our trip, and instead just be grateful we weren’t robbed at gunpoint or killed. He was right, and I stopped my pity party (eventually).
Now, the scene excerpt below DID NOT happen in real life. He was recovering from his gastro infection and we know better than to drift off the path (we live in a place with a lot of ticks), but the emotions are all real. The love is all real.
The hero in Lust Abroad is named Derrick — my husband’s name is Eric. But my husband wasn’t recovering from brain surgery, and he’s not a photo journalist, he’s a research biologist in aquaculture. The best way to describe what he does is Ancestry. com for fish, or Maury for fish (you are the father … you are NOT the father, get it?)
Please enjoy this super steamy, sex in the rain up against a tree in the Peruvian Andes excerpt of LUST ABROAD. Inspired by true events, true emotions and true love.
Also, I’ll send you a link to download this book for free when you sign up for my newsletter.
Derrick’s eyes caught mine as I blinked the water off my lashes, licking my lips while brushing my hair from my face. His shirt clung to him, defining each pec and ab, while the skin on his arms and neck glistened like polished bronze.
“Okay?” he asked. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to die.”
My lip trembled, while tears stung the back of my eyes. I couldn’t lose him. He reached for me, pulling me hard against his chest. Absorbing my fear. His hands drove into my hair, holding my face inches from him. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You believe me?”
I nodded again, a sudden shiver racing down my spine.
His eyes shifted across my face, studying me as the rain continued to hammer down and around us. And then his mouth smashed against mine, obliterating any thought besides yes from my mind. Devouring me, savoring me, possessing me. He wasn’t going anywhere, because I wouldn’t let him.
I returned the kiss in kind and grappled at him, leaping up onto his hips as he ploughed us off the path and through the woods a few yards. He tossed my pack to the ground and then my back was slammed up against a tree, his hands roaming my body and caressing my breasts, pushing into me, showing me with his body how he felt.
I was hot for him. This needed to happen. I needed him now like I needed to breathe. I started to work his belt, and then the zipper on his shorts. His bags fell to the ground as he let his hands slide up my tank top, like he was desperate to have skin to skin. Everything was wet and slippery, and the way his hands skimmed across my body and up under my bra made me quiver with longing.
His teeth grazed my jaw. “Yes,” I panted, letting my head fall back against the tree, my eyes and mouth opening up and welcoming the falling sky.
My shorts were next, and within seconds they were off and dangled by an ankle, his cock poised at my entrance and ready to thrust. Moving my thong to the side, he drew his hand up between my folds, making sure I was good and wet for him, ready. And I was, I was so ready.
“Please…” I begged. Knowing he loved it when I begged, but also truly feeling the need to plead with him for my life. “Please.”
Pure masculine triumph smiled back at me, and then he bit my lip, lifted my hips and drove home.
I grunted from the impact. “Oh, God.” My back slammed into the tree, rough bark damp against my skin. “More… harder.”
He bared his teeth and started to pick up speed, slamming into me. Dominating me, taking me, captivating me. My whole body was trembling from the savagery of his passion, the brutality of his need. I wanted bruises, I wanted bite marks, and I wanted them to be from Derrick. I raked my teeth down his neck, followed by my tongue. Feeling the pulsing vein that ran beneath his salty skin.
I felt alive. On fire and so damned good. Every draw of his cock left me greedy for more, while my whole body sighed and submitted each time he filled me, welcoming him home, pulling him in. Derrick brought his hand between us again and started rubbing rough and erratic circles around my clit. His digits slipped easily through my slick folds, feeling them swell as my need for release grew. I felt the warmth of the orgasm begin to bloom deep in my belly, threatening to unleash and overthrow my entire being.
“Derrick,” I mewled, not sure I’d be able to hold on much longer, and not sure if I wanted to. It was all becoming too much to handle. I needed to let go.
“Piper…” he said. “Come for me.” And then once again, maybe because he loved it, or perhaps because he knew I did, either way the vampire re-emerged, and he clamped down on my shoulder, snarling as he came.
I broke with a sharp cry as the climax blossomed and unfurled inside of me, spearing through me and rocking my very soul. I panted and sighed as the sensation washed over me, feeling him pulse as I contracted around him, milking him, claiming him, taking everything he had to give me.
A slippery wet forehead fell to mine while his body started to shake. I opened my eyes, rain blurring my vision. He was laughing.
I wasn’t even sure what was funny, but I started to laugh, too. “What’s so funny?” Our bodies were still connected.
He continued to chuckle, rubbing his nose against mine while our lips softly slid across one another. “Just how maniacal you make me. Since first seeing you in the airport, a flurry of gypsy skirts and mermaid hair, I’ve been consumed with this need to take you, hard and often. And hell, if I’m not trying my damnedest to do that.” He shook his head. “You’re driving me crazy.”
I blinked up at him. I’d felt the same way. I’d wanted him the moment I saw him, too. Thought about his body covering mine. His tongue between my legs, his hands on my breasts. And since that first day in Miraflores, I hadn’t been able to get enough. The man was a drug.
I flicked my tongue out and grazed it against his bottom lip. “Crazy’s just fine when the sex is as hot as this.”
He growled low and feral in his throat. “You’re going to ruin me, Piper.”
“Ruin you, or reinvent you?” I snagged his lip between my teeth and pulled.
Another growl rumbled, this time deep in his chest, and I felt him begin to grow again inside of me. The man was absolutely insatiable.
“Oh, little Piper…” He bucked up into me while a wily grin caught on his mouth as he took in my sudden wide eyes from how hard he already was again. “I think the word we’re looking for here is resurrect.” He started to slam into me again. “Because, baby, before I met you… I was damn near dead.”
I’ll send you a link to download this book for free when you sign up for my newsletter.
Piper Valentine knows all too well that life is short. Off to Peru to heal after a grievous loss, she finds more than solace in the hot, charismatic travel journalist sitting across from her on the airplane. Derrick King’s had a brush with death, too, but he has no idea that he’ll face it again—and again—after giving in to his instant attraction to Piper. Their journey to the top of the world, filled with parties, humor, and fun, is turned topsy-turvy as they’re pursued by mysterious gunmen.
Determined to reach Machu Picchu and fulfill her promise to her dead husband, Piper finds that having Derrick along makes her feel safer, even as his lust for her endangers her heart. She’s never found another man so sensual, and with danger on their trail, they keep ending up in each other’s arms. Derrick’s a man with needs—and secrets. Will Piper find strength in surrender? And can Derrick find a way to believe in a future—for both of them?
What’s better than a little dirty talk to get you in the mood?
Even if sex isn’t on the table at the moment (the kids are awake, in your face and cock blocking you like crazy), or you and your man are not even in the same room or building, let alone under the covers, or you’re just looking to spice things up a bit for fun, dirty talk can be a great way to open up the lines of communication between you and your partner. It can give you a chance to talk about what it is you want in bed, and also just get your engines revving for when you finally do get to carve out some alone time. And if you’re not comfortable saying those things out loud, because of little ears around, that’s what cell phones are for.
We don’t do it often, but when the hubby and I feel a lack of connection, we’ll send each other dirty, or sometimes sexy but also sweet messages throughout the day. I’ll even get creative and just send him a list of emojis and then he has to decipher what they mean. He’s pretty good at cracking that code, though, maybe I’m making it too easy on him. We all know what a peach and an eggplant mean …
One things for sure, the heroes in my books are expert dirty talkers. They know how to take their women from zero to sixty, shivering to sweaty in record time.
I thought it might be fun to pull a few dirty talk excerpts from some of my books to give you a real taste of just how raunchy and filthy these men can be.
**WARNING** May cause your computer/phone to catch fire and/or your panties as well. I suggest a tall glass of ice water, maybe a hand fan and your partner close by.
Shoot me a message, or comment below and let me know what your favorite one is, or if I forgot a dirty talking hero, or you just have a favorite filthy-minded man you want me to include. I’m totally open to a PART 2 of this post, so suggestions are welcome.
Tate McAllister – Quick & Dirty – The Quick Billionaire Series, Book 1
“Miss Ryan…” he purred with a grin. But then his face grew fierce and his brows narrowed. “Touch yourself.”
Biting my lip, I let one hand travel down to the V of my legs, two fingers snaked their way between the lips to my slippery heat. His eyes never left me, they just caught fire. Perhaps it was the glare from the sun overhead, or maybe it was just Tate, but when I looked into his eyes all I saw was a raging inferno. Lust, craving, desire, need. I began rubbing my clit, back and forth back and forth, enjoying the way the nub grew hard beneath my fingertips and my slit grew wet. I let two fingers slide into my channel and I started to fuck myself, enjoying the feeling of my own hand but also loving what it did to Tate, what I did to Tate.
“Smack it like you did before,” he ordered, the bulge in his pants betraying the composure his voice still held.
I let the grin slowly drift across my face and closed my eyes as I began delivering light, tingly little smacks to my clit and lips with the tips of my fingers. God, it felt good. A soft sting following by a spreading heat, pleasure born of the pain.
“Fucking hell,” he said with a snarl, sinking to his knees and shuffling over to my chair. He molded my body how he wanted it, lifting my legs onto the arms of the chair, spreading me wide. “My turn.”
Swallowing I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again. I’d never done anything like this before, never pleasured myself in front of anyone, never let a man take me in so many ways, in so many places. And yet Tate, Tate made me want to submit and let him have me as he pleased. I’d do anything for this man so long as he continued to make me feel the way I did now. Alive. Wanted. On fire.
“Continue with your breakfast,” he said as he blew cool air on to my wet, throbbing lips, denying me the touch I so desperately craved. “Eat, Parker, or else I won’t.” His eyes were all pupils now as he drew one sexy finger up between my folds. With his thumb and forefinger he gave my clit a mighty pinch. I yelped, so he did it again. “Eat!”
Warren McAllister – Quick & Reckless – The Quick Billionaires Series, Book 3
“Suck it, Silver,” he said with a low growl, urging her forward with his hand in her hair. She opened her mouth, welcoming him inside. But he didn’t ease his way inside. Instead he took control, gave no quarter and rammed his cock to the back of her throat. Silver’s eyes teared from the impact, but she managed to suppress her gag reflex and hollow out her cheeks. “That’s right, angel. Suck it hard. You love my cock, don’t you?”
She nodded, glancing up at him. “Mhmm.”
“You love it when I ram it inside your sweet little cunt, make you come all over my balls.”
Max Travis – Hot for Teacher – The Single Moms of Seattle, Book 1
She licked her lips, her eyes bright and challenging. “Are you going to take the matches away from me, Mr. Travis? Or are you going to teach me how to start a fire? Stoke it so it gets good and hot.”
She squawked as he flipped her around and pressed her back against his chest. One of his hands pressed against her neck, keeping her head on his shoulder, while the other one splayed across her flat abdomen. “Oh, I can teach,” he whispered next to her ear. “I think the greater question here is: Are you willing to learn?”
Her sharp inhale was encouraging.
“Do I need to muzzle you?” he asked, nipping at her earlobe and trailing his tongue down her neck.
“All depends.”
“Hmmm.” His fingers against her belly pushed beneath the waistband of her pants until he met with lacy panties.
“I can be quiet if I have to be,” she whispered, her chest lifting and dropping with each heavy breath.
“Are you normally?” He inched his fingers lower still over her panties until he found a damp patch. He tapped her clit with his middle finger, and she jerked in his arms.
“No. At least I didn’t used to be.”
Lifting his hand up, he pushed his fingers beneath the elastic of the lace where short, soft hair met his fingertips. He’d never been one who liked a bare pussy, and he could just imagine that the hair between her legs was the same as the hair on her head. The thought of pressing his nose there, inhaling her scent before he devoured her pussy, made his dick throb. He knew she could feel his erection against her ass. He wasn’t hiding it, and the way she wiggled her bottom across his lap said she felt it and she didn’t mind it at all.
His middle finger dipped down between her folds and gathered drops of her silky arousal before dragging it back up toward her clit, where he began to make small circles. Her hips gyrated, and she bucked up into his palm.
Chuckling, he released his grip on her neck. “Give me your mouth,” he demanded, relishing in the way she shivered in his arms from his words.
Jack Savage – Hot for the Handyman – The Single Moms of Seattle, Book 3
Her head thrashed back and forth on the counter, her ponytail hanging over the side, butt cheeks pressing into the other edge.
When the second wave of euphoria began to ebb, she lifted up onto her elbows with the little energy she had left. “Jack … you need to …”
He just kept going.
“Oh my God, stop. It’s too much.”
He shook his head, his blue eyes opening and tipping up to look at her, dark and searing. He drew her clit back into his mouth. “I’m not stopping until it looks like I’ve eaten a dozen glazed donuts, Bianca. You have more in you. I can taste it, and you taste fucking delicious.” He swept his tongue up her folds. “Haven’t tasted anything so fucking good in a long time, darlin’. Can’t stop now. Couldn’t if I tried.”
Her head shook quickly. “No, no, it’s not that. I have. It’s just … I mean, I washed myself, but I haven’t tidied things up down there in a while. I don’t go bare as a peach, but I like to keep the hedge, well, groomed, if you know what I mean.”
He rolled his eyes and flopped back down into his pillow before reaching for her hand from where it was still wrapped around his cock. “Don’t care about that. Like fruit, like topiaries, like the wild, untamed wilderness. Now climb up onto my face, woman. I’m hungry.”
Warmth and lust infused her.
“Lydia …” he urged, hauling her over him with all his rippling muscles. “Listen to your gut and climb up on my damn face. I’m like a hobbit. I’ll have my first breakfast in bed, then we’ll head to the kitchen and I can whip us up some waffles for second breakfast.” His nose wrinkled. “Unless you’d prefer pancakes.”
His nerdy reference to being a hobbit only made her like him even more.
Rex was the walking definition of not judging a book by its cover. Because when she’d ogled him when he went for his runs or walked out to his truck for the last couple of months, never in a million years would she have guessed that he was a closet nerd with a penchant for puzzles and Lord of The Rings.
“You could not be further from a hobbit,” she said, feeling her pussy pulse and tingle as he maintained eye contact with her and slowly wedged his free hand into the elastic of her panties.
His brows scrunched, and he made a mock dejected expression. “Are you saying I’m not courageous, brave and determined? Am I not a skilled listener? Do I not have good eyesight? I’d like to think that for my size, I’m still nimble and deft in my movements.”
She sniffed a laugh. “Okay, maybe you have the psychological characteristics, along with the good listening and eyesight, but I’m more saying that you don’t look like a hobbit. Aren’t they generally short, fat and slow?”
He gripped her by the hips with both hands, making her yelp. “Maybe some, but not this hobbit. Now give me my breakfast.”
James Shaw – Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1, 2 and Hot & Filthy – The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series, Books, 3, 4, 4.5
“You need to know that you are beautiful, drop-dead fucking gorgeous, and Tom and all those other jackasses that made fun of you are fools, and it’s their loss. You are exquisite, inside and out.” He came up behind me again, wrapping his big, strong hands around my body. “I find every inch of you sexy as hell, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Please, stop putting yourself under a microscope and looking for imperfections that aren’t there.”
AND
I could hear him trying to suppress a laugh. “All right. What are you wearing?” That dark and dangerous voice set jolts of warmth zinging through my body until they settled deep in my belly and spread into a growing and tantalizing heat between my legs.
“Oh, you know… I’m just sitting here doing some paperwork in my plaid mini skirt and white knee-highs. I was wearing my white blouse, but it got so hot in here that I had to take it off. Now I’m just in my lacy black bra.”
“School girl route, eh? Okay then. Well, why don’t you take your skirt off as well, cool off?”
I grinned. “Okay.”
“Are you stressed over all the homework you have to do? May I suggest a stress release?”
“So stressed,” I hummed. “Are you offering to help me out, Mr. Shaw?”
“Yes, I am.” He was all business.
“Oh, please, Mr. Shaw, I neeeeeed your help,” I cooed.
“All right, baby, first I want you to lie back and bend your legs. I need you to close your eyes and pretend your hand is me.”
“Okay.” I’d never had phone sex before, but I was rather excited to try. It was another thing that I had suggested to Tom only to be shut down and called a pervert.
“It’s been so long since I’ve tasted you, can you remind me of what I’m missing?”
I wasn’t surprised that I had started to get wet. His voice was enough to make me cream even without the dirty talk. I reached down and touched myself, sliding one finger inside and pumping it in and out while lightly brushing my clit. I brought it to my mouth and sucked my fingers.
“I’m so wet, James, wet for you. I taste… I taste salty and a little sweet and sour. My body is craving your touch. I need you inside me.”
“Slide your hand back down and pretend you’re me. You’re going to need to talk to me and tell me what you’re doing, so I can be right there with you. I want to dip my head between your thighs and nip at your inner lips. Would you like that?”
“Oh, God yes. Don’t stop. I need your tongue on me. And your fingers inside me.” I slid my fingers back down beneath my pajamas and started massaging lazy circles around my clit. “I’m touching myself, making circles around my clit, and it feels so… so good.”
“Good, baby, good. I’m stroking myself too. I miss your mouth. You give the best head. You’re able to take me in so deep. I love being able to feel the back of your throat with the head of my cock. It’s such a huge turn on. Suck my cock now.”
“I love having your cock in my mouth,” I sighed. “You’re so big, and it turns me on too. I need you to put your fingers inside me, suck my clit, and use your beautiful tongue to tease me. I need to come.”
“Oh, baby, I need you to come too.” My eyes were closed, and I was picturing everything he was saying. In my mind we were in the sixty-nine position, fucking each other with our mouths. I slipped another finger inside myself and started working the two in and out, scissoring them back and forth as I used the fingers of my other hand to circle my clit. “I want you to suck my balls baby. I loved it when you did that before, your tongue is so soft and your mouth so warm. Suck my balls.”
“Oh, God yes. I’m going to take one in my mouth slowly while I continue to work your cock with my hand. I love the sounds you make when I’m sucking you off, the moans and the grunts, it lets me know I’m doing it right. You taste so good. I take your other ball in my mouth and gently pull and massage it. They’re so big.”
“Your pussy is dripping wet. I’m having a hard time licking up all your sweetness. It tastes so good. I love your soft, bare pink pussy.”
“I need to deep throat you. Feel your big, thick cock hitting the back of my throat… it makes me wet.”
“Oh, baby, yeah, talk dirty to me.”
“I’m close, James.” It hadn’t taken long for my orgasm to start pounding on the door, screaming to be let free. His voice, his words, knowing that he was touching himself while I touched myself, it was hot and dirty and so damn sexy that it took every ounce of self-control for me to not just go off like a rocket.
“Me too, baby. Just finish yourself off, but be sure to make lots of noise. I need to hear you come.”
“Okay.” I was breathless; I’d put the phone on speaker and laid it next to my head on the floor seeing as both my hands were occupied.
“How many fingers do you have inside, baby?”
“Two.”
“Add a third.”
“Okay.” I continued to make circles around my clit with two of my fingers on my right hand as I slid a third finger inside from my left. I pumped furiously. My release was only seconds away. I needed another hand to pinch my nipples; I needed James. I gently pulled on my clit with my thumb and forefinger, and my climax erupted. “Oh, oh, ah, oh God, oh God, oh fuck James, yes, oh, oh.”
“That’s it, baby, yes… take it all, all the way in… fuck. Swallow everything. I give you. Yes, Emma, yeah, oh God, ahh, err, ah, ah, FUCK!”
S: You’re so fucking sexy, Harper. You know that? Carly’s upstairs with your sister, and you’ve left a key under the mat. I enter and lock the door. I hear the shower running. I remove my shoes and my jacket, then walk toward the bathroom. I open the door. It’s steamy inside.
What the heck was going on? Is that what he wanted to happen tonight? Did he want me to leave Carly with Quinn? I was so confused, but at the same time so freaking turned on. I flipped another waffle and poured on more batter, thinking about what I could text back that would even remotely add or match what he’d so eloquently and sexily described. But he didn’t give me a chance.
S: All I see when I walk into the bathroom is the outline of a body. Curves that won’t quit, beautiful creamy skin. Sexy dark hair hugging a long neck.
Was this sexting? Was Sam sexting me?
S: The door opens and suddenly I’m met with a vision. You. Your body glistening from the water while your beautiful brown eyes shine bright and eager. You hold your hand out to me and invite me in.
We were sexting! I’d never sexted before, but apparently Sam had, because the man knew how to seduce and arouse. I flipped another waffle and poured on more batter. Closing the iron, I picked up my phone.
H: But you’re dressed, so I order you to undress. While you remove your jeans and shirt, I begin to soap up my body. I pour body wash onto a bath pouf and lather myself up. My body is quickly covered in bubbles, all over my breasts, my belly, my pussy. I run my fingers over my nipples and they’re so hard.
S: I’m naked in seconds. I step inside the shower and you make room for me. You’re so wet.
H: So wet for you.
S: You’re good at this.
H: You’re better.
A giggle escaped me as I continued to make waffles and sip coffee. I could hear the dinosaur documentary in the living room and Carly randomly repeating the different species as the documentary discussed them. “Hadrosaur.” “Therapod.” I thought I heard her say, “Archaeopteryx.” The girl can’t pronounce her own name correctly, but she can enunciate Archaeopteryx like a pro.
My phone buzzed again.
S: Your body is even more luscious in person than behind the glass. I can’t keep my hands off you. I cup your breasts and let my thumbs graze your nipples. You gasp. I pull on them. You gasp louder. Dipping low, I pull one into my mouth and tug, biting and pulling on the tight little nub.
H: I drop the pouf and let my hands drift down. I find you hard.
S: I’m so fucking hard.
I bet he was. Damn how I wished I wasn’t standing in the kitchen making Saturday morning waffles as my toddler watched television in the living room.
H: I grip you and start to pump. You’re big.
S: Damn straight.
Well, I’d walked into that one. I burst out laughing in the kitchen, nearly burning the waffle. I wiped the tears from my eyes before texting him back.
H: Water beads on your beard, I lean forward to kiss it off, loving how the bristles scratch my lips and cheeks.
S: You’ll love it even more when they scratch you elsewhere.
Yes!
I squeezed my legs together and let my eyes close for a half a second from the delightful friction and the way the seam of my tight yoga pants brushed my clit. It wasn’t enough to get off, but it still felt pretty good.
H: I’m sure I will.
S: I drop to my knee and push your legs apart.
H: No. Kiss me first.
S: I will, but I get to pick the lips I kiss.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. This was absolute torture. He was texting back faster than I was and had an answer for everything. I flipped the last waffle onto the plate and shut off the iron, unplugging it while mindlessly gnawing on one of the cooler ones. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could continue with the dirty texting before I had to abandon my child and go take care of business in the bedroom. What on earth was Sam’s end game here?
S: Slowly, I part your lips and run a finger up through the center. You’re so wet and not just from the shower. Spreading you wide, I let my tongue dart out. I need to taste you, Harper. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you walked through those playgroup doors six months ago.
Don’t forget to leave a comment and tell me which hero you think is the best at dirty talk. Also, don’t forget to let me know if you think another one of my heroes (who I haven’t included) has something really raunchy to say and I will make sure to do a PART 2 and include him next time!
Are you ready to deck the halls, jingle those bells and trim that tree with all four harty boys, their wives, kids and mum?
Well, get ready, because October 9th, this military Christmas romantic comedy is coming at you, and it’s going to be chock full of holiday spirit, the Yuletide and dripping with mulled wine.
I can’t wait to share the final installment of the Harty Boys with you. It’s bittersweet, because I love this family, want to desperately give Joy her happily ever after, but I’m getting teary-eyed just thinking about having to say goodbye.
Second generation of Hart family antics and hijinks anyone? It might just have to happen just so I can keep the good times rolling.
Christmas, a time for family, cheer and Joy getting her groove back.
It’s nearly Christmas and the Hart brothers and their families are getting ready for another loud, crazy and wonderful holiday. But when they show up at their mother’s house with a freshly cut tree in tow, they’re in for a surprise nobody ever expected.
After losing her husband thirty years ago, Joy Hart raised her four sons on her own, got her doctorate and became an accomplished sex and relationship therapist. As much as she loves being a nana, a mom and a mother in-law, she’s far from dead and wants more in her life. For a long time, she pretended she was satisfied with the flings she had while away at conferences. Love was not on her radar. But a chance meeting with a dashing man has opened this Hart’s heart to new possibilities.
Too bad her sons aren’t onboard with the new man in their mother’s life. They’re giving Grant the gears and think he’s all wrong for their mother—for their family. He has no place at their Christmas dinner table, and the Harty Boys are determined to get the dirt on Grant before the timer on the oven says the turkey is done.
Will Brock, Chase, Rex and Heath take things too far and ruin Christmas for everyone with their stubborn, meddling, alpha ways? Or will Grant save the day, save Christmas and prove to everyone that Joy deserves a happily ever after just like the rest of them?
Note: This is the fifth book in the Harty Boys Series. It’s highly recommended to read the Harty Boys quartet first. But not every Hart found their soulmate, so I thought why not give Joy the happily ever after she deserves too? So grab your rum and eggnog, put your fuzzy slippers up, get cozy by the fire and dive into a fun, lighthearted read featuring your favorite family at Christmas time.
Exclusive excerpt
She was his first love.
His first kiss.
His first … everything.
The girl next door who loved to read her summers away in her family’s backyard hammock, write poems in the spring and fall about the blooming flowers and changing leaves, and make pinecone and peanut butter birdfeeders in the winter.
He’d loved her since he first laid eyes on her when her family moved in next door. He was fourteen. She was twelve.
She’d been shy, but her smile had made the entire world absolutely glow.
He waited until she was fourteen and “allowed to date” before he finally asked her out to the movies and ice cream. And when she said yes, he had literally fist pumped and leapt into the air for joy.
They were together after that until she passed away.
He honestly thought he’d never find love again. That his one true soulmate had come and gone. In his life for thirty years, but not nearly long enough. He and Daphne had been robbed of so much. Not only the family she desperately wanted, but of time together, too. And with her death, he was certain, so had died his heart. And perhaps that was still true. Perhaps Daphne had been his soulmate, and Zane had been Joy’s, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t find companionship and love while they lived.
Most of his heart had died with Daphne. And the way Joy spoke of Zane, most of her heart had died with him. But small fragments still beat within their chests. Keeping them going, moving forward and living the life their soulmates were denied.
Max might not be celeste’s teacher anymore, but he can still teach her a few things.
This is book one in my Trilogy spin-off, the single moms of seattle.
I love Max and Celeste’s story so much, and if you haven’t read it yet, what’s the hold up? It’s hilarious, it’s hot and Max is so swoon-worthy, make sure you have an ice-cold drink nearby when you read that closet scene–wowza!
If you HAVE read Hot for Teacher, drop me a comment or shoot me an email and let me know what you thought of it. I always love to hear from readers.
A bit of inside scoop on this one … Tracy’s Dog is a real thing and IT WORKS! Wow oh wow does it work!! Celeste and I have something in common *drops voice to a whisper* mine is also named Henry Cavill, shhhh.
He’s not her teacher anymore, but he can still teach her a few things.Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Moms of Seattle. Three sexy single ladies who drink a ton of wine every Saturday night, bitch about life, have each other’s backs, are the ultimate mama bears, and hope to one day, just maybe find love again. This is Celeste’s story …
Fifteen years ago, Celeste was eighteen, in love and on the honor roll.
Then she got pregnant.
Now, a widow and a single mom, she does her best to give her daughter, Sabrina, a good life.
But something is missing in her world.
Or someone.
Back when he taught her math, Celeste didn’t have a crush on Mr. Travis, but that doesn’t mean she’s not hot for teacher now or able to ignore her rampant fantasies.
All Max wanted to do was buy was a pair of jeans.
However, when he bumped into his former student, Celeste, he ended up with so much more.
She’s not a kid anymore and it’s impossible for him to stay away from her. Even when he knows he should.
But an angry student is out to wreak havoc for them all.
One who hates Sabrina, and wants to cause problems for Max and Celeste.
Like love, high school can be a battlefield, only neither of them knew just how dangerous it could be until the scandal explodes like a grenade.
Celeste and Sabrina’s relationship hangs precariously in the balance, and Max isn’t sure if he should stay and fight for the woman he’s falling for, or get out of dodge before everything he’s worked so hard for goes up in smoke.
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, a sexy alpha male, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you liked my single dad series, then you’ll love this spin-off trilogy.
His nostrils flared and he reached behind and fisted her ponytail causing her eyes to flare. “You’re playing with matches here, Celeste,” he said, struggling to keep his libido in check.
Her throat undulated heavily before her mouth split into a wide grin. “Am I?”
Tilting her head back he dipped his mouth to her neck and raked his teeth over the soft, thin creamy skin of her throat. He wasn’t quite sure what had come over him, but he could tell she liked his assertion. Her pulse picked up tempo along her neck and her breathing had begun to escape her mouth in quick pants.
She licked her lips, her eyes bright and challenging. “Are you going to take the matches away from, Mr. Travis? Or are you going to teach me how to start a fire?”
She squawked as he flipped her around and pressed her back against his chest. One of his hands pressed against her neck, keeping her head on his shoulder, while the other one splayed across her flat abdomen. “Oh, I can teach,” he whispered against her ear. “I think the greater question here: are you willing to learn?”
Her sharp inhale was encouraging.
“Do I need to muzzle you?” he asked, nipping at her earlobe and trailing his tongue down her neck.
“All depends …”
“Hmmm …” His fingers against her belly pushed beneath the waistband of her pants until he met with lacy panties.
“I can be quiet if I have to be,” she whispered, her chest lifting and dropping with each heavy breath.
“Are you normally?” He inched his fingers lower still over her panties until he found a damp patch. He tapped her clit with his middle finger and she jerked in his arms.
“No. At least I didn’t used to be.”
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again.
.This is Atlas’s story …
Single Dad of Seattle, Atlas Stark is in over his head. A widower, he’s been left to raise his daughter, and his infant cousin alone, while also trying to make partner at his law firm. If things at work weren’t stressful enough, his home life is getting hairy too. His daughter’s acting out, eager for her father’s attention, and she’s taking it out on the baby. Already stretched too thin, he’s one frayed strand away from snapping. Desperate for help, he takes her to see a therapist. What he doesn’t count on is her being a tall, blonde knock-out with sapphire eyes and penchant for motorcycles. Too bad she annoys the crap out of him.
Tessa Copeland’s life has never been easy. With a chronically ill mother, she was forced to grow up quicker than most. A successful art therapist, she’s determined not to let her baggage set her back. Until her fiancé cheats on her and takes her dog. She’s never brought her personal life to work, but she can’t stop thinking about the father of one of her clients, or the fact that he’s an assuming jerk with a smolder that gets her engine running. But things grow blurry when she finds herself seeking legal counsel from the broody Atlas, and even though the two continue to butt heads, their chemistry is undeniable.
Will flirting with the single dad lead Tessa down a dangerous road riddled with potholes and blind turns? Or will it be exactly what they both needed to finally feel whole again?
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
His smile was magnetic. “Fuck, you’re smart.” The gray in his eyes turned almost silver. He stood up and approached her, his body feeling extra big and tall as he invaded her space and pinned her up against the door. His warm breath beat rapidly against her lips. His jaw was working and his eyes so intense, they seared her.
Her eyes shot up the stairs toward the hallway. Aria could come out at any time and see them there. Then what?
“I … I should go,” she said, but her body said differently, and she turned to pudding against him. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen into a heap on the floor if he hadn’t pressed his hips against hers to hold her up. She could feel his need for her against her thigh.
“You should go,” he whispered against her jaw, his breath kissing her in a way that made prickles race along her skin.
“I should go.”
“You should go.”
“I should go.” Her purse landed on the floor with a thud, her arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his hands gripped her butt cheeks, and he hoisted her onto his hips. Her lips parted for him as his tongue swept inside, claiming her, tasting her, devouring her. Still carrying her, he headed back down the stairs toward his office, but they didn’t make it there before he stopped in the hallway, her body still perched on his. He pressed her back hard against the wall. She whimpered when he bit her bottom lip, her chin, her jaw. His teeth scraped; so did his beard.
Almost as if they hadn’t just had sex half an hour ago, the man was practically frantic, the way his hands roamed her body, caressing and kneading. His fingers traced along her arms, lifting them above her head, where he pinned them up with one hand. His other hand made surprisingly quick work of his jeans. She had to hand it to the man, holding her up against the wall with his legs, keeping her arms up with one hand and unfastening his jeans with another—he continued to surprise her with his prowess and talents.
She had underwear on, but he’d just have to pull them aside to—rip. Oh, well, then never mind. He’d torn them clean off.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.
Harper
He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my pulse race every time he walks through the door. We all watch him, and dream of him asking us out.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.
He’s turned out to be the alpha of my dreams and I’m willing and eager to be his forever.
When a business arrangement takes a personal turn …
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again.
This is Mason’s story …
Single Dad of Seattle Mason Whitfield made some big changes in his life five years ago, starting with quitting his Fortune 500 job and moving away. Now he’s back in Seattle, he bought a bar and is finally a father–life is good. But when a beautiful mystery woman keeps coming to his bar interviewing men night after night, Mason’s curiosity is piqued and he just has to know more.
Five years ago, cancer nearly killed Lowenna Chambers. Then her husband left her–for her sister. Now in remission, she just opened up her own chocolate shop and is determined to live the best life possible. Until she’s asked to do the impossible: design an enormous chocolate center piece and give a speech for her sister and ex-husband’s wedding, on Valentine’s day of all days. A perfect opportunity to show them she’s moved on. But first, she needs a date. A drool-worthy hunk who will steal the show. Cue, Mason who is tall, dark, dangerous and with two sleeves of tattoos to boot.
But as the wedding approaches it’s no longer a simple business arrangement between Mason and Lowenna. She likes him and he wants her, but love is never that simple and a future together begins to look unattainable.
Can Lowenna get over her pain and heartache and spend Valentine’s with the single dad, or will she let yesterday haunt her today, ruining any chance of a beautiful tomorrow?
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
It’s all fun and games until somebody falls in love.
Riley As a surgical resident, my ego is beyond healthy. So when Daisy, the stubborn and sexy matchmaker, challenges me during night trivia at the local pub, it’s impossible for me to say no. If I win–she owes me three epic dates where I pull out all the stops to woo her. If she wins–no dates and I walk home naked. It’s the summer, what’s an eight-block stroll home in my birthday suit? Since she’s already smitten with me, this is going to be a breeze. How can I say no to a sure thing?
Daisy Riley’s sizzling looks are nothing compared to his arrogance. His god-complex eclipses his charm. Forcing him to walk home naked is just too tempting to pass up. It’s just a friendly bet. But the stakes grow too high when fate keeps shoving him in my path. I don’t need my matchmaker test to prove that we’re not meant to be, despite what he says. My heart is still recovering from my last dating disaster. I find love for other people, not myself. But I’ll get him to take the test anyway. I’ll show him that we’re wrong for each other. We are 100% incompatible and any attraction is purely physical. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
***You’ve met this couple in previous books, but what about their love story? Daisy and Riley might be together in Hot Dad, Snowed In & Set Up and New Year’s with the Single Dad, but find out how they came to be in this hilarious arrogant doctor, stubborn matchmaker romantic comedy. No cheating, alpha male and a big old happily ever after!
“You’re a big personality,” I said. “But no, you’re not annoying, and I do like you.”
His gaze shifted from mine to the flames, and he adjusted his hot dog, dropping it to hover just above the coals.
As hard as I tried, though, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his pants.
It’s been a LONG dry spell, girlie. What’s one night?
What happens in the cabin stays in the cabin?
I reached for my wine.
“Just think about it. If you like me as a friend, liking me as more isn’t too far off, right?” He gave his hot dog an inspection before pulling it out of the fireplace and jerking his chin toward the stack of buns I’d found in the freezer. “Grab me one, please.”
I did as he asked, once again my gut getting knotty as I cupped the hotdog with the bun and slid it off the stick.
I was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. I had a thriving business, a condo, a car, my 401K was impressive for my age, and yet I was getting giggly and squirmy at the childish act of cupping his hot dog in my bun. All I wanted to do was laugh.
He thanked me and took the hot dog and bun from me, squirting on the ketchup and mustard before taking a big, manly bite.
“Mmm, you did good picking that bun for me. Nice and soft. Just perfect for my wiener.”
Unable to keep the laughter at bay any longer, I picked up an olive and tossed it at him, hitting him square between the eyes.
“Hey!” In retaliation, he picked up an olive and tossed it at me, but I was ready for him and opened my mouth, catching it like a pro … or an obedient dog. I refused to think too hard about which one I better personified. My brother and I used to play this game with olives, mini marshmallows, peanuts or whatever for hours when we stayed in the cabin.
“You can’t resist the innuendos, can you?” I asked, topping off our wine and chewing my olive.
“I can’t resist them when they make you smile like that or earn me one of those sexy giggles.” He finished his hot dog and washed it down with a sip of wine. “You seriously have the best smile.”
There he went again with the compliments and the irresistible handsomeness.
And don’t forget those pajamas.
I risked another glance at the pants.
“Eyes up here, lady.”
Dammit.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
And of course, what inaugural camping trip wouldn’t be complete without a popped air mattress? Certainly not ours. And on the first night, too! The three of us ended up rolling in toward the middle, piling up on each other. Thinking back on it all, it was hilarious and something we’ll be able to laugh about for years. But at time, I was a grumbling mess. How on earth could my three year old sleep through her sister crushing her while she simultaneously crushed me?
Kudos to those of you who love to camp, but you’re not my spirit animal and I think we can still be friends. Just don’t expect me to nod until my neck snaps if you suggest we go on a trip with tents into the back country. I’ll wave you off, give you a can of bear spray and say, “see you when you get back.”
Sometimes I do them in the morning, sometimes the evening, it really depends on how much work I have to do that day, and of course, the weather. Because if there is one thing a west coast baby like me knows, if you don’t like the weather, wait fifteen minutes. And today is no different. Ten minutes ago it was a torrential downpour and now the sun is peeking out behind light gray clouds and the powerlines look like they’ve been Bedazzled with diamonds.
Now, the scene excerpt below DID NOT happen in real life. He was recovering from his gastro infection and we know better than to drift off the path (we live in a place with a lot of ticks), but the emotions are all real. The love is all real.
I felt alive. On fire and so damned good. Every draw of his cock left me greedy for more, while my whole body sighed and submitted each time he filled me, welcoming him home, pulling him in. Derrick brought his hand between us again and started rubbing rough and erratic circles around my clit. His digits slipped easily through my slick folds, feeling them swell as my need for release grew. I felt the warmth of the orgasm begin to bloom deep in my belly, threatening to unleash and overthrow my entire being.
It’s all fun and games until somebody falls in love.
