June 25, 2015

~*.*~ Join us in the reveal of the 1st Chapter of Mika Jolie's upcoming New Release!! ~*.*~

Title: Tattooed Hearts (Martha's Way, #3)
Author: Mika Jolie
Genre: Contemporary Romance


  Being someone’s first love is unforgettable. Being their last is immeasurable. Claire Peters should be on top of the world. She owns the radio waves and has a budding movie career. But her heart longs to be rooted. Ten years ago, she fled Martha's Vineyard to pursue her dream and to make something of herself. But there’s still a void. After a decade of running, she returns to the island hoping to find her happiness with the man she’s loved all her life. When a tragic event shatters Dr. Forrest Desvareaux’ well-balanced world, the Vineyard’s hometown good guy discovers everything in his life is based on lies. Angry and betrayed, he turns to Claire - the one woman who has indelibly marked him. Is it possible to run back to the person who broke you? Forever linked, Forrest and Claire are an unending continuum. But she’s a wildflower and Forrest’s roots run deep on the Vineyard. Can they accept home is not a place but a feeling.


“One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t utter.” James Earl Jones Vineyard Haven, Martha’s Vineyard, thirteen years ago… Claire ran her tongue over her lips, checking their current state. A soft, smooth, and slightly-moist mouth was ideal for kissing. Hers didn’t feel chapped or dry, but to be on the safe side, she swiped the shea butter pomegranate chapstick over her lips, pressed them together then blew into her hands for a breath check. Minty fresh. Perfect. The girls she knew were experts in the art of kissing. It embarrassed her to admit at fifteen, she hadn’t kissed anyone. But they didn't pass judgment. Rather, her friends had given her pointers and informed her fresh breath was essential for a French kiss. For that reason, she managed to avoid garlic, onions, milk, and her favorite, corn. The tasty grain was on the Cosmopolitan list of “What Not to Eat” before a kiss. Last thing she wanted was Forrest pushing her away because of corn residue in her mouth. Her gaze swept over Herring Creek Farm. The August sun shone on green everywhere. The edge of woodland sloped down gently to a bramble-filled ditch, overgrown with cow parsley. Beech trees lined the fence to the north, their overhanging boughs provided dapple shade for the horses that stood idle, flicking away flies with their tails. Chirping birds and humming bees filled the air with the sounds of their daily duties. Male laughter rose as Jason, Adam, and Blake tossed a football between them in the yard. They rarely let her wander away from their view, not that she had a wild streak or anything, but they were Alphas and they hovered. Always uncertain of what the band of brothers might throw at her, she didn’t dare get too close to the boys. They loved to throw questions at her or worse, ask her to participate in their football tossing game, just so they could play the big brother role. Big brothers tended to be overbearing. Phooey! She wasn’t even related to any of them. Her gaze swiveled to Forrest. He stood not too far away in cargo Khakis and a fading Transformers T-shirt, throwing tennis balls to his father’s two black Labs. Warmth spread inside her chest, a sensation that was now synonymous with Forrest. The sight of him held an intriguing allure. Tall, athletic, with tousled dark brown hair that flopped over his eyes. Woven leather bracelets encircled his left wrist, drawing attention to the lean, hard muscles of his arms. All that football and skiing had done wonders for his amazing frame. His face wasn’t too shabby either–sharp, angled jaw, full, firm lips that curved into a proud yet pleasant smile, and a nose that was just a little too big. The slight imperfection only made him more appealing. Women often stopped in their tracks and stared at him. Claire noticed the admirers every time, but Forrest seemed oblivious to the sudden pauses and clandestine stares. When he did bestow them with a glance, his fans overcompensated with a weak smile or a blush, a dead giveaway of their admiration. He always took it in stride, never flaunted, and without a trace of arrogance. He was modest and unaware of the chaos he caused, this made the girls fall for him all the more. According to the few conversations she overheard between Jason and the others, teenage boys were horny all the time. They thought about sex every second of the day. If the wind hit them just right, they would get excited. Not Forrest. He thought with the head on his shoulders, not the one south of his waist. He was different that way and stood apart from the others. Despite the opportunities that came his way, he dated very little. She once overheard him telling the other guys he was a one-woman man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high heels. He was handsome, breathtaking. Her racing pulse and breathlessness proved it. However, what she really loved about him was his inner beauty. From the way he cared for the animals on the farm, to his warmth with everyone on the island, and his commitment to his family and friends. He was eighteen–if a day older–and he stole her heart without even knowing it was in his pocket. For the last two years, these new and strange feelings often left her befuddled. They were too strong, too intense. Physically and mentally, she reacted to him in a way she never had with any boy. The slightest touch, whether it was tugging on her hair or fixing her backpack, sent her heart spiraling out of control. On days they weren’t around each other, she missed him. When she saw him, heard his name, happiness filled her. At night, his face was always the last thing she’d see; her stomach would backflip and she’d tingle all over before drifting into a dream where they held hands and kissed. Now in a few days he’d leave the island and head to Boston for college. Her heart screeched in anguish, its flesh lay bare in the raucous collision between reality and fantasy. She had to kiss him. And for that she needed complete privacy. She studied the stoned-faced, two story red barn with an old, worn-down tractor collecting dust next to it. She glanced at the boys, still lost in whatever they were talking about. Probably all the college girls they would be meeting when they arrived on campus. Which meant Forrest would be meeting college girls, too-knowledgeable, sophisticated girls living away from their parents, who no doubt would be on him as quick as lightning. Panic set in. Fear. Her chance with Forrest was slipping through her fingers. She needed to kiss him and let him feel everything in her heart. Here goes nothing. Stealthily she moved around the farm and hauled open the unwieldy door, tired hinges creaking like a testy old man. She paused and waited for one of the boys to call after her. When they didn’t, she rushed inside, closed the door behind her, and sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves. A puff of the sweet, musty summer's straw odor pressed into her nose. The barn had recently undergone extensive renovations by Luc and Marjorie, Forrest’s parents. Old flooring was removed and replaced with a new tongue and groove floor. Claire walked passed the stalls with rubber mats and hay racks to the corner away from the windows...in case the boys peeked around. She dug inside her second-hand hobo bag for the ripe plum carefully picked from her mother’s kitchen. Her friends had told her to find a nice piece of soft fruit that tasted good. Tilting her head to one side, she bit a mouth-sized hole into the plum. The taut skin of the fruit was tangy, a complete contrast to the sweet juice that rolled down the side of her mouth. With a flick of her tongue at the corner of her lip, she licked away the sweet nectar. It was delicious, just like how she’d imagined Forrest would taste. She went in for another bite. Her eyes lulled shut as she drowned in the fantasy of kissing Forrest. She pushed her tongue into the flesh of the plum a little more and surrendered to the sheer pleasure of experimenting. “Claire.” Startled, she jumped back and almost toppled over. The plum slipped from her hands onto the ground. Oh. My. God. Utter humiliation. Forrest saw her kissing a freakin’ plum. She stood frozen, silently praying he’d turn and walk out of the barn, instead she listened to his steps closing in on her until they stood facing each other, barely inches apart. He picked up the plum, brushed off the collected dirt, and examined it for a second or two. His eyebrows knitted close together. “Were you kissing a plum?” “No.” She tried to grab the fruit from him, but the big goof was already six feet tall and built like a quarterback compared to her small, five-feet-two-inch frame. He lifted his arm out of her reach. “Then what were you doing?” Pretending I’m kissing you. Pathetic. “Um…nothing.” His gaze searched her face. Claire’s first reaction was to make a run for it, but then Jason would think one of his best buds did something to her. Mortified, she lowered her head and focused on the floor. “Claire, look at me.” His voice was low, with a trace of huskiness and authority. There was no rescue from this embarrassment. Pure absolute torture. She coughed and pushed her hair back behind her ear, even though it was already there. He caught her chin and raised her face, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were gray, not a dull, unremarkable gray like that of concrete or stone, but a combination of misty gray and blue like the ocean at dusk. They were sensual, alluring, and warm. They beckoned her to reveal her deepest secrets, and to lose herself in their warmth. “Who is the guy?” A thick fog dampened her ability to think. “What?” “The guy you want to kiss. Your crush.” His eyes searched her face for answers. “Who is he?” You. She wanted to scream. Instead her heart tripped and stalled. “Claire, who’s the guy?” His voice racked her brain as she scrambled for a name of any fifteen-year-old boy from her class. But they lived on an island where everyone knew everyone’s business. If she was brave enough to lie—for the record she wasn’t—the boy would have to live his life in fear with her four protectors breathing down his throat. “I don’t have a crush.” He smiled. “So I didn’t just catch you making out with a plum?” She turned hastily and tried to run off, but mortification followed. Forrest stepped in front of her, blocking her escape. “Have you kissed your crush?” “No.” She tried to walk past him. He inched closer to the door. “I need to go,” she said and hoped she sounded annoyed and angry. Unfazed, he made no attempt to move. “Have you kissed anyone?” Something in his voice grabbed her attention. It was low and gravely as if he cared whether or not she’d been kissed before. Chin up, she stared into the eyes that had captured her heart, caught the twinkle of amusement, and her stomach flopped in disappointment. Silly of her to think Forrest might actually look at her and see an actual girl with feelings instead of Jason’s shadow. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was one of the Vineyard’s elite. She was the half African-American, half-Japanese, flat-chested girl who lived in the same house with his best friend. Not that he was ever rude just… indifferent. Unlike the others, he never went out of his way for her. Once or twice, she’d caught him looking her way, brows knitted, an annoyed look on his face. No, never rude. But his opinion of her was clear. She was the little girl who followed his best friend everywhere, a nuisance, plain and simple. Humiliation quickly turned to anger. She planted her legs wide and crossed her arms over chest. “How did you know I was in here?” He shrugged. “You weren’t outside.” “I could have been by the lake.” The corners of his mouth lifted up, then his smile widened into a grin “I saw you come in.” “You were watching me.” His eyes narrowed. “We all watch over you. That’s what we do.” Not exactly what she had hoped to hear. Realizing she stood no chance to win this banter, she quickly opted for plan B. The truth. What she wanted most in the world. To be kissed by him. She edged further into the room and leaned her elbows on the window sill, her denim shorts brushing against the dusty wall. “Fine. You were right,” she started in a low voice, her back to him. “I was practicing kissing because I’ve never been kissed.” “Go on.” Cosmopolitan has a step-by-step guide on how to practice kissing and I was following the instructions.” She paused and inspected her battered red Converse, building courage to spill everything. “But it also says the best practice is with another person.” She turned to look at him. “Will you kiss me, Forrest?” “No,” he answered without a beat. The swift blow of rejection knocked every wisp of air from her lungs. Claire struggled to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. Stunned and disoriented, she swiftly turned her attention back to the window. The sun stung her eyes, they watered. She quickly batted away escaped tears. “Claire,” he said, his voice a bit more soothing. “You’re so young.” “I’m fifteen,” she said in a desperate voice caught between frustration and crying. “And I’m eighteen.” She whipped around and looked straight at him. “We’re only three years apart.” He smiled. “Right now, it feels like ten.” They stood, staring at each other in a companionable silence, broken only when Forrest let out a deep breath. “I’m leaving for college in a few days.”  Although it was summer, the words chilled her spine. She needed to kiss him and let him see, feel everything she felt inside but could find no words to express. “What if I wasn’t fifteen?” “Still no.” The rejection, although gentler this time, still cut deep into her heart. “Am I that unappealing to you?” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Claire.” She held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. Most of the boys here are trying to figure out what to make of me. An African-American-Asian girl. Is she pretty or just weird-looking?” She shrugged with indifference, but deep down the quick glances here and there bothered her. “What do you care what others think? You’re beautiful.” An equal mixture of pure ecstasy and excruciating pain made her heart go pit-a-pat. “You think I’m beautiful?” He nodded. “Definitely.” “So why won’t you kiss me?” With quick strides, he came to stand next to her and gently stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You should be kissing boys your own age.” She looked into his eyes and her heart swelled from the emotion bottled inside. Feelings even she didn’t understand, let alone try to express. He gave her a quick smile then walked back to the door. The bitter taste of regret stung her tongue like a rusty razor blade. The moment she had planned, spent so many sleepless nights imagining, had slipped from her hands. He opened the door and turned to look at her once more. “When you do kiss your crush, I hope it’s everything you imagined it to be.” He smiled—a sweet, sexy smile that got her all flustered—and then he walked out of the barn.   * * * *   Rain lashed down on Claire in cold, icy pellets bit into her skin. Wet grass and dirt mushed under her shoes, slashing up her legs and staining the skirt of her dress. Focusing on Forrest, she quickened her pace. She had fallen asleep watching her favorite soap opera. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She’d almost missed him. “Forrest,” she called after him, heart in her throat, fearful he would enter his parents waiting pick-up truck and drive away forever. “Forrest,” she screamed his name again, a dozen needles dancing in her stomach. She stopped, her breathing stuttered in her lungs, exhausted from fear. Please look at me. He slowed his steps and after a second or two he turned. “Claire,” he said, squinting. Her heart leaped with joy. She caught him just before his parents drove away to catch the ferry to Falmouth. Smiling, she ran forward, closing the distance between them, and said through ragged breaths, “You’re leaving.” “I know.” He looked over his shoulder at his parents’ truck. “What are you doing? It’s pouring.” She launched herself at him, strong arms clamped around her waist. “I love you,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut. For a minute neither moved, time stopped. They stood still, holding on to each other, their bodies drenched from the downpour. She shivered, not from the coldness of the rain but the string of electricity shooting through her veins. Her heart, like a fly in a cobweb with nothing to do, waited for his laughter to confirm how ridiculous she sounded. But it didn’t come. Sucking in a breath, she waited a little longer. Except for the huge raindrops splattering with charged energy, there was absolute silence. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked into the depth of his gray ones. A fluttery feeling took over her body. “Forrest.” He swept back her matted hair, and his lips cracked into a smile. “I’m your crush.” She shook her head. A crush was the lowest level of romance. Her feelings ran beyond that. “It’s not a crush.” “Claire, you’re fifteen.” The world around her started collapsing. “I’m in love with you,” she said emphatically. “It’s an infatuation.” No. No. This was bigger than an intense, na├»ve, adolescent admiration. She searched his face for any hint that just maybe deep down he believed her, only to come up short. Empty. Nothing. Feeling weak and hopeless, her shoulders slumped. She was losing this battle. “You’re going to have sex in college.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Claire.” “I know about sex.” “Jesus, Claire, if you’re having sex with some douchebag…” “I’m not having sex,” she cried, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. “But I know what it is. I don’t want you doing it with girls in college.” She grabbed his arms. “Please wait for me.” “What makes you think I haven’t had sex?” Raindrops, hard and thick, hit her face like bullets. With a quick brush of her hand, she swept matted hair away from her eyes. “I overheard you telling the guys you were waiting for that person.” She was making a fool of herself but at this point what did it matter. “You want it to be special…your first time.” She swallowed the panic choking her. “I want to be your first, Forrest, and you mine. I love you.” He looked at her for a long moment. His eyes became shadowed. Hope bubbled in her stomach. And then he sighed, took a step back and broke their connection. Her heart dropped all the way to her toes. “This is a crush. It will pass,” he said quietly. “No.” He owned her heart. Forever. It didn’t matter she was only fifteen. Some things only happened once in a lifetime and had nothing to do with age. “Promise me, you’ll at least try to wait for me.” “I have to go. I’m sorry, Claire.” He touched her face and stared at her for a long beat. “One day you’ll look back at this and laugh.” “No,” she choked. “Yes.” Their gazes locked. The pitiless rain continued thrashing her skin. Forrest took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I have to go.” He released his grip and walked to his parents’ truck. For a brief moment, he hesitated and looked back. Hope stirred low in her belly, then he tossed his backpack in the truck and shut the door. Nausea pained her stomach, heart and chest. She had waited for this moment to come forward with her deepest feelings and bring to life those three words she’d been harboring. She fought and lost. Her world collapsed. Emotionally bankrupt, she stood in dazed isolation and took the onslaught of the chilled rain. Her wet dress hugged her, its weight heavy and oppressing. With blind eyes to the world, she stared at the shadow of the pick-up taillights until they faded. It was hard to tell when she started crying and even more difficult to discern between her tears and the rain as she turned her face to the sky above. Her eyelids fluttered to deflect the water, she wanted to move, to run, but her legs were weak and incapable of doing anything. So she stood in the pelting rain and let her body and mind drown in the cold, wet afternoon.
Book Trailer

Author of contemporary sensual, empowered romance, with fun relatable characters. Member of Secret Cravings Publishing. I live in New Jersey with what I often refer to as my Happy Chaos or my three men, which comprise of my husband and our two energizer bunnies. When I do have time to breathe, I like to run, hike with my camera at hand, and work on my gardening and knitting skills. For latest news on my current WIP, interviews with fellow authors, or just to see what I’m up to, check out my blog: http://mikajolie.com/ While there, sign up for my newsletter for latest news and giveaways. No spamming.  
The Martha's Way Series
The scale
Need You now
Tattoed Hearts Cover
love p


We are so excited to be a part of B.L Mooney & Laura Emory's
Hands down one of my favorite covers!! AND the story itself ?? Let's just say Shadow is a 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]


B.L. Mooney and Laura Emory


I should be dead. I definitely shouldn’t be chasing the type of killers who ruined my life, but that’s what I do.

My mother was murdered when I was six years old and instead of running for help, I hid in the closet. Until the killer is found, I’m an unfinished job forced to look over my shoulder.

I’m Special Agent Brynn Bennett with the FBI, and I’m damn good at my job. My best friend and partner, Hunter Williams, and I track predators every day. It isn’t a job for little girls who hide in closets, but with Hunter by my side, there’s nothing I can’t face.

What I didn’t see coming was Benjamin Drake. He was next in line for the one-night stand I occasionally allowed myself, except he wants a happily ever after and he thinks I can give it to him.

I can handle death, monsters, and the evils that hide in the shadows, but a nice guy who wants to take care of me? I’m not so sure.

The better question is . . .

Can he handle me?

I take one last look to make sure my makeup is perfect and everything is in place as I hear the knock on the door. I nod to myself in the mirror. “You’ve got this.”

Shaking my head at my pathetic pep talk, I head for the door, but I don’t expect what I see once I open it. Ben is standing there with a couple of bags in his hands, but it’s the outfit that has me speechless. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, too. I can’t decide if he looks better casual or in a suit. They both make me want to rip his clothes off.

He clears his throat on my second trip down his body. “May I come in?”

Embarrassed I got caught looking at him so closely, I put my fingers to my forehead. “I’m sorry.” I look at him again and tilt my head. “I thought we were going out.”

“That was the original plan.” He shrugs and adjusts the bags. “Then I wondered why go out when all I could think about was taking you home.”

I look down his body that’s filling my doorway and back up to those lips I couldn’t get out of my mind the first night I met him. I probably would spend the entire evening trying to get him to take me home. I back up. “Please, come in.”

“I hope you like takeout.”

I shut the door behind him. “Yes, of course. I don’t cook a lot for myself.”

I walk over to the table where he set the bags, but before I’m able to look in them, he grabs me by the waist, pulls me close, and kisses me. Who needs dinner?

He kisses my neck and works his way up to my ear to whisper, “I brought dinner. You supply dessert.”

I’m breathless and can’t find my voice, but manage to whisper back, “Let’s see this dinner first.”

His eyebrows rise slightly, and even though he isn’t fully smiling, I can tell he’s amused by the crinkles next to his eyes. “You doubt my . . . dinner?”

How I find my voice is a mystery to me, but I do. “I’m a prove it kind of girl.”

His smile tells me he has no doubt proving it whenever I want. I want it now.

Dezember Photography


B.L. Mooney

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBLMooney

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorBLMooney

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6999168.B_L_Mooney

Website: http://www.authorblmooney.com/

Email: AuthorBLMooney@gmail.com


Laura Emory

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Laura-Emory/629949660470295

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Email: AuthorLauraEmory@gmail.com


Pre-order Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZDK2VRM

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/shadow/id1004883938?mt=11

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shadow-bl-mooney/1122106094

~~Book Tour & Review~~ Step F*@k (Part One) by Scarlett Ward

Meet Jai in this sexy stepbrother romance! 

That's all I did. A few too many glasses of wine with my best friend and the bitch convinced me to go on one of those dating websites.

A one-night stand.

A booty call.

And you know what? It.was.amazing.

I spent all night in a sexy stranger's arms, hot and sweaty, until it was time to sneak out and do the walk of shame back to my apartment.

I never thought I'd see sexy stranger again, and I was totally fine with that - until my mother's wedding.

She's getting remarried, see. And sexy stranger just happens to be my new stepbrother.

All the wine in the world isn't going to make this better.

 I’m reaching for a napkin when I see that Jai is on the other side of the table, helping himself to a generous portion of the oysters.
                   “You know what they say about oysters,” he says. I pretend I didn’t hear him, but when I look over, he’s staring right at me.
                   “What?” I hiss. “You think you’re being clever? You think you’re going to impress me with that totally unoriginal line, like I’ve never heard that oysters are an aphrodisiac? That’s not why I took some—I happen to like how they taste very much and as a poor college student, I can’t afford to eat like this!”
                   He’s still staring. At my chest. Then the smirk returns. “Might want to pull up that dress, Janet Jackson.”
                   “What?” I look down. My left breast has completely popped out of the top of the dress, my nipple there on full display for anyone who happens to be looking. “Shit!” I try to stuff myself back in the dress, dropping the plate of salad and oysters in the process. “Fuck!”
                   “You know, they’ve got things you can paste on in these sorts of situations.” He reaches over and picks up the wayward oysters and puts them back on my plate.
                   “I’m not eating those,” I say. “I need to talk to you.”
                   I wriggle my shoulders and try to get myself as secure in the dress as I can before I hurry around to the other side of the buffet table. “I need to talk to you over here.” We go to the back of the restaurant, near the hallway to the bathroom, and I strategically place myself behind one of the columns that keeps us partially obscured from the rest of the restaurant.
                   “Imagine meeting you here,” Jai says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I really had no idea. No idea at all. I knew I was going to be getting some stepsisters out of this blessed union, but I really had no clue—”
                   “Are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to believe that? You’re a fucking dog. A total fucking asshole.”
                   “I really do like the scarf. And the dress, too. You should’ve left the tit out. You’ve got great tits, you know.”
                   “I do NOT want to talk about my tits!”
                   “That’s certainly not the tune you were singing last night.”
                   “Do you realize how not funny this is? What a complete disaster this is? OUR PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED. That means we’re going to be brother and sister.”
                   “Step brother and sister. There’s a difference, darling.”

Scarlett Ward’s debut serial series is a good start to what will be to come from her. A complete twist on a very saturated plot-line, Step-F*#k is a well written fast past story concerning the battle of wills between Jai and Emma.
The first meeting of these two happens when by the off chance they get together via a dating online site. A hundred percent all in, the attraction Jai has for Emma is palpable and he makes good when he says that he is in fact a good time. Emma is spell-binded, time and time again, and is quite sorry that their time together will be on the shorter side. But when Emma finds that gold band, she cuts their time even shorter and walks away from Jai, vowing never to see him again. What Emma doesn’t know is that Jai isn’t all who he seems to be and when their paths cross again, let’s just say that the attraction which was undeniable between them will be a big blunder for the future.
Note that Step F*#k is indeed a four (4) part series and I was given advanced readers copies so my review captures the essence of them all grouped together. Also be aware that each part will leave you in a cliffhanger because it is a four part series. Saying that, within each book the story builds with a seamless transition ending and starting back up where the reader doesn’t lose sight or interest of the story.
If you like sexy and hot, quick mature reads than these novellas will be right up your ally. I look forward to what comes next form Scarlett Ward.


Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1SkUZfw

Series Reading Order

Part Two
Releasing June 25th

Part Three
Releasing July 3rd

Part Four
Releasing July 10th

Scarlett Ward is a yoga-loving, coffee-drinking writer who finally took the plunge and wrote her first book. Her own stepbrother wasn't remotely good-looking, but the one she dreamed up for Step F*@k is absolutely DIVINE.

Scarlett hates long walks on the beach. That shit is hard. She prefers laying out by the pool with her laptop, writing her next story while working on her tan.

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