October 3, 2014

*^*Holiday Heat Week Blitz*^*


by Katie Lane 
Psychologist Ellie Simpson is about to get a healthy dose of sex therapy. Leaving her cheating boyfriend behind, she has everything she needs for a quick rebound: Vegas, plenty of champagne, and a proposition from the sexiest man she's ever seen. As her handsome stranger helps her ring in the New Year-over and over again-Ellie finds herself blissfully losing all of her inhibitions. Attorney Matthew McPherson is good at making women lose things, like their minds and underwear. With his athletic build and soulful eyes, he doesn't need to use his powers of persuasion or famous last name to get a woman into bed. But when morning comes, Matthew finds Ellie is the only woman he can't bear to leave-ever. It's enough to make him wonder if what happens in Vegas really has to stay there.

She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, but—”
The elevator came to a jerky stop, and she glanced over and forgot what she was about to say.  While the bright lights highlighted her flat hair and mascara- smudged eyes, they made him appear even more of a god. A god in vivid color. His skin was a smooth, even brown that no tanning product could duplicate. His lips a subtle, tempting rose that held a trace of moisture as if his tongue had just swept over them. His hair expertly cut waves of black velvet that begged for a woman’s caress. All set off by a pair of piercing green eyes. A green so vibrant and intense it reminded her of the eighteenth hole at her father’s golf course after a light spring shower. Those eyes stared straight through her as his finger slid away from the bright red stop button on the wall of the elevator.
“Did you just stop—?”
The rest of what she was going to say ended up muffled beneath firm lips as she was guided back against the wall and lifted to her toes. Unlike Riley’s gentle hunt and pecks, this man went straight to the good stuff. And the good stuff was the best she’d ever had.
She tried to remember what she was going to tell him, but his mouth wiped away all thoughts from her mind like a damp paper towel on a dry- erase board. He devoured her hungrily, leaving no room for breath or refusal. Not that she wanted to refuse him. At least, not yet. Once he ended the kiss, she would put a stop to things. But for now, she was quite happy doing exactly what she was doing. She liked how his lips molded to hers and how his long fingers flexed at her waist with each sexy flick of his tongue. But she especially liked the way his body held her in place, the hard press of his chest, stomach, and thighs papering her against the wall.
About the Author
Katie Lane is the USA Today bestselling author of the Deep in the Heart of Texas and Hunk for the Holiday series.  Katie lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and when she isn't writing, enjoys reading, going to the gym, golfing, traveling, or just snuggling next to her high school sweetheart and cairn terrier Roo. Learn more about Katie Lane at: Website/ Facebook
Twitter, @ktlane3
By Jill Shalvis, Dream a Little Dream: Melissa has kept every man at a safe distance-especially firefighter Ian, a sexy friend with sexy benefits. But Ian secretly longs for more. Luckily, 'tis the season for giving love a chance . . .
By Kristen Ashley, Every Year: Holidays don't come easy for Shy and his brother, Landon. But with the magic of Christmas, along with a little help from Tabby and her family, the Cage brothers are about to get the gift of a lifetime . . .
By Hope Ramsay, Silent Night: Down on her luck and evicted from her apartment, single mother Maryanne hopes to start over in Last Chance. When the snow begins to fall, it looks like her baby might literally spend Christmas Eve in a manger. And Maryanne might celebrate the holiday with a handsome stranger.
By Molly Cannon, Have Yourself a Messy Little Christmas: Lincoln is a bachelor who's set in his ways-until a professional organizer dressed up as Mrs. Claus changes his life, one tip at a time. . .
By Marilyn Pappano, A Family for Christmas: War widow Ilena doesn't mind spending Christmas alone. But when a new doctor blows into town with the winter wind, will she get her secret Christmas wish?

“Which one of these ornaments is yours?” she asked.
He took a funny- looking Santa Claus from the tree. “I made this in my third grade art class.”
Santa was made out of paper plates and construction paper. His hat was folded and bent, his beard was shaped from the rippled edge of the plate, and his button nose was falling off. Linc studied it critically, thinking it was pretty good for third grade. “I do my best work in construction paper and glue.”
“It deserves a place of honor, for sure,” she said solemnly. She reached out to take it from him and her fingers brushed his. He stopped short. It was impossible to ignore the electrical charge that zipped between them. If she’d been any other woman he wouldn’t have hesitated. He would have pulled her into his arms, crushing the silly ornament between their bodies, and kissing her right then and there.
She smiled invitingly and her lips parted a bit, enough so he could feel her soft breath on his cheek. Her eyes softened to a leaf green, and he felt his caution crumble and transform into a maddening urgency. He let the ornament fall to the ground.
Then he was kissing her. She tasted like peppermint tea and smelled like cinnamon and pine needles. Her body melded against his, her breasts pressing against his chest. He wrapped both arms around her like he was claiming something rare and long lost. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling it from that infernal ponytail. Her mouth opened under his and while their tongues dueled, her hands roamed across his back. It wasn’t enough. Without another thought, he picked her up and headed down the hall.
 About the Authors
New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill's bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.
You can learn more at:  Website| Facebook| Twitter @jillshalvis
Kristen Ashley grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana, and has lived in Denver, Colorado, and the West Country of England. Thus she has been blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her posse is loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. Kristen was raised in a house with a large and multi-generational family. They lived on a very small farm in a small town in the heartland, and Kristen grew up listening to the strains of Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon, and Whitesnake. Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music and love was a good way to grow up. And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better. You can learn more at:
Website/ Twitter @KristenAshley68/ Facebook
Hope Ramsay grew up on the North Shore of Long Island, but every summer Momma would pack her off under the care of Aunt Annie to go visiting with relatives in the midlands of South Carolina. Her extended family includes its share of colorful aunts and uncles, as well as cousins by the dozens, who provide the fodder for the characters you'll find in Last Chance, South Carolina. She's a two-time finalist in the Golden Heart and is married to a good ol' Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her heroes. She lives in Fairfax, Virginia, where you can often find her on the back deck, picking on her thirty-five-year-old Martin guitar. You can learn more at: Website/ Facebook /Twitter, @HopeRamsay
Molly lives a charmed life in Texas with her nearly perfect husband and extremely large cat Nelson. When she's not writing, she spends her days reading, taking dance classes with the hubby and watching all kinds of sports.  You can learn more at: 
Website/ Twitter, @cannonmolly
Known for her intensely emotional stories, Marilyn Pappano is the USA Today bestselling author of nearly eighty books. She has made regular appearances on bestseller lists and has received recognition for her work in the form of numerous awards. Though her husband's Navy career took them across the United States, he and Ms. Pappano now live in Oklahoma high on a hill that overlooks her hometown. They have one son and daughter-in-law, an adorable grandson, and a pack of mischievous dogs.
You can learn more at:
Website/ Facebook/Twitter, @MarilynPappano
by Debbie Mason
Free-spirited activist Skylar Davis is out of money and out of options. After using up her trust fund trying to save the world, she hides out in Christmas, hoping the kindness of friends will help her forget the reckless actions of her past. All goes well . . . until she comes face-to-face with one of her mistakes: the town's gorgeous young mayor. Ethan O'Connor likes his life drama-free and predictable now that he's about to make the move from small-town politics to the Colorado State Senate. Then Skye blows back into town, as impulsive and passionate as he remembers. If word ever got out about their night together-the night he's never been able to forget-the scandal could cripple his career. Yet as he starts his campaign, Ethan finds that, like the town of Christmas itself, he can't get Skye out of his head . . . or his heart.
Later that evening, Ethan sat at a table in the local sports bar, the Penalty Box, with Gage and their mutual friend Jack Flaherty. Brandi, wearing her waitress uniform—a black-and-white-striped jersey and a short black skirt—approached with a tray of drinks. “Compliments of the house. Sawyer named the drink after you, Mr. Senator-to-be. It’s a Prince Charming. Bourbon, cinnamon schnapps, Goldschläger, and root beer rimmed with coarse salt,” she explained as she set the drinks on the table. “Sawyer suggested you have a couple of them before you speak to your baby mama again.”
Gage and Jack laughed. “Har har,” Ethan muttered, slanting a look to where the owner, Sawyer Anderson, stood behind the bar taking orders. The tall, broad-shouldered ex-captain of the Colorado Flurries, a professional hockey team, gave Ethan a two-fingered salute and grinned. “Your friend’s a real comedian,” Ethan said to Jack.
“Yeah, he likes to think so,” Jack said, “but maybe this time he’s right. From what Grace said, you could use all the help you can get.”
“At least your wife’s talking to you. Thanks to him”—Gage jerked a thumb at Ethan—“mine isn’t.”
“She was until I defended him. Now I’m in the same boat as you,” Jack said, taking a long pull on his beer.
“Would someone like to explain how I’m the bad guy in this? She had no intention of telling me about the baby. As far as she’s concerned, I’m a sperm donor and have no rights.” And once his initial shock had passed, he started to get excited about the baby. He’d always hoped to be a father one day, and he was not about to let Skylar Davis take that away from him. “I asked her to marry me.”
He didn’t realize Brandi had hung around until she said, “No, you didn’t ask her. You told her you were getting married. At the courthouse. On Friday.”
“Yeah, and you also told her she was irresponsible and flighty and threw losing her trust fund in her face,” Gage said.
Brandi gasped. “You didn’t?”
“Come on, I didn’t say anything that any of you haven’t said or thought. Besides, I was pissed off. And I had good reason to be.” He might’ve had good reason to be angry, but he shouldn’t have let his temper get the best of him. The temper he didn’t have until he met Skylar Davis. “I sent her flowers and an apology, okay?”
Gage grimaced.
“What? You don’t think she’ll like them? The florist told me any woman would love them. I sent her three dozen roses.” Who knew flowers could be that expensive? But even Ethan realized he had to make some kind of gesture after what he’d said to Skye.
“Most women would, just not the one you sent them to,” Gage said.
Nell McBride, Evelyn Tate, and Stella Wright ambled over, dragging chairs to the table.
Evelyn beamed at him. “Don’t you worry, Ethan. We’re the love experts. And, dear, those roses you sent me were beautiful.” She fluttered her lashes.
“Yes, Ethan, that was very sweet of you to send them to us. But a little extravagant, don’t you think? I hope you didn’t send them to all your female supporters. Their husband’s might not be as understanding as mine,” Stella said.
Ethan rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, ignoring Gage’s I-told-you-so look. “Did all three of you get a dozen roses?” he asked in hopes he misunderstood them and that Skye hadn’t sent his peace offering to the three older women.
“Yep, me, Stella, and Evelyn. But you didn’t have to bribe us. We’d vote for you anyhow. We want one of our own in the state senate, don’t we, girls?” Nell said as she pulled out a pad and pen. “And just as an FYI, when you put from a secret admirer, you’re not supposed to sign your name.”
About Debbie Mason
Debbie Mason is the bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). She also writes historical paranormals as Debbie Mazzuca. Her MacLeod series has received several nominations for best paranormal as well as a Holt Medallion Award of Merit. When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, their four wonderful children, an adorable grandbaby, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella. You can learn more at: 
Website/Twitter @AuthorDebMason

By Olivia Miles
Briar Creek's quaint shop windows, cozy homes nestled in snow, and neighborly residents are what Christmas dreams are made of--for everyone except Grace Madison. She left her hometown years ago to pursue a writing career. But when her father's death leaves his bookstore empty, Grace must return to face why she fled Vermont in the first place: Luke Hastings, who still heats her up like a shot of smoky whiskey on a cold winter's night. Grace is back, and Luke is worried. How much has she changed as a bestselling author in the big city? What memories will she stir up? And was the choice he made five years ago the biggest mistake of his life? Now, with their past, present, and future rocking around the Christmas tree, it's time for Grace and Luke to face the music . . . and the mistletoe.
“I’ve missed you,” she said and he’d stood, holding her stare, gripping his keys, his breathing labored and heavy. He couldn’t say it back, no matter how true it was. It was too late.
He shook his head, anger coursing through his veins. How easy for her to come here, looking like this, standing so close, after all this time. As if he’d been waiting for this day, hoping she would come to her senses. Come back to him.
“I’ve met someone, Grace,” he said, and she lifted her chin.
“I know.”
He exhaled. He stared at her, watching as she chewed on her lip and smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress, giving him that questioning look that made his heart ache like it never could for anyone but her. A thousand questions ran through his mind, but he didn’t have time for them all, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers. It would only make this more difficult than it had to be.
“Look, it’s not a good time. Helen will be here soon.”
She arched a brow, pinching her lips in displeasure. “Helen? Is that her name?”
“How long are you in town for, Grace?” Luke looked down the street, bracing himself for the sight of Helen’s car rounding the bend. As much as he dreaded her finding him like this, he was almost wishing she would appear, save him from these unwanted emotions. With Helen he was safe. Their life was simple and easy. By this time tomorrow he’d forget Grace all over again, he’d go back to his routine, the established life he had with Helen. And he’d be content.
Grace followed his gaze and then turned to him, frowning. “As long as you want me to be.”
Luke hesitated. No, she wasn’t going to put this on him. She had come here to set him up—to make him take the fall, make the decisions for him. She’d regret her decision in time, come to resent him. She’d leave him sooner or later; if not now, then someday. They didn’t want the same things anymore. Maybe once they had, but they were young then—children! Ten years was a long time to know someone, and he knew Grace. He knew what she was capable of, and he knew what she wanted. If she wasn’t true to herself, she would never be happy living here in Briar Creek. And he wasn’t going to be the one to drag her down or hold her back.
“You should go, Grace,” he said. “I’ve moved on,” he forced himself to add.
She took a step closer, never breaking his stare as she closed the distance between their bodies. He gripped the keys harder, feeling them embed in his palm. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was, how perfect she was to him. All these months away from her, he’d pushed her from his mind, eventually replacing the image with Helen’s. Sweet, loving, Helen.
“Do you expect me to believe that what you have with her is the same as what we have?” Grace said. She was standing so close he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, see the curve of her mouth, the indentation on the bottom lip.
“Of course it’s not the same.”
Her lips curved in satisfaction and she leaned forward. “I didn’t think so,” she murmured as she slid her arm up his shoulder, pulling him close as her lips grazed his.
He groaned into her mouth—a silent plea to stop—but soon he was kissing her, forcefully, angrily even, pressing her body close against his chest, feeling the contours of her breasts against his racing heart. She smelled like coconut, like that favorite shampoo of hers, and he drank in her scent, his tongue parting her lips, exploring her mouth, tasting her warmth.
She felt so good, so right, and that was the problem. There was nothing like kissing Grace. They just fell into place; they knew every step of the dance, every way to satisfy the other’s needs. So he stood there, in the middle of the afternoon, in broad daylight, in front of the house he had expected to be their home, and he kissed her for the last time, savoring every last sweet touch of their lips, until he finally tore his lips from hers.
About Olivia Miles
Olivia Miles is a Chicago-based romance writer. Having grown up in New England, Olivia attended McGill University in Montreal, Quebec before settling in Chicago where she lives with her husband, their daughter, and two ridiculously pampered pups.  When she is not chasing after her little ones, she is hard at work creating feisty heroines and alpha heroes with a heart. A city girl with a fondness for small town charm, Olivia enjoys highlighting both ways of life in her stories.
For more information on Olivia Miles, you can find her at:
Website | Facebook | Twitter: @MsOliviaMiles


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