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Hi I'm Janna and I am a book whore! I started this blog after being a part of another for years. While being a big blog may be nice I like to stay true to me having a love for books, that's why I blog. I love books and I want to share that love with my readers of this blog. I love to read, books are my escape and a huge part of my life besides my husband and two children. I am honest and sometimes sassy in my reviews but never mean. Some of my favorite authors include Kristen Ashley, Penelope Douglas, T.M. Frazier, M.N. Forgy, Rachel Van Dyken, Meghan March and Vi Keeland to only name a few!


Thursday, September 21, 2017

Blog Tour! The Outskirts By T.M. Frazier

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Sawyer wants a life of her own.

Finn wants to forget he ever had one.
After a tragedy, Finn Hollis escapes
into the swamp to be alone.
That is until Sawyer Dixon shows up,
all SCORCHING HOT innocence,
claiming she owns the land less than
fifty feet from his front door.
Sawyer gets under his SKIN, but even worse?
She makes him WANT things.
Things Finn hasn’t wanted in a very very long time.
Finn WANTS Sawyer gone.
Almost as much as he wants her in his BED.
The Outskirts is Book One in the Outskirts Duet.

I think I am still in awe over how T.M. Frazier once again has blown me away. The Outskirts had my complete and total attention, I refused to put it down, I DEVOURED this book in one setting.  It’s no secret that I have been a huge fan of this author for years now, but I am at a loss for the perfect words to really describe all the emotions that The Outskirts pulled from me.  Normally I am screaming and cussing and all sorts of other crazy things in my reviews for this author but The Outskirts is pulling other things from me, mainly my heart because I need it to be repaired after the angst, emotional roller coaster and heart break I felt.

I felt so many emotions for both Finn and Sawyer.  Both have gone through hell only to come out the other side, one stronger, one broken but together they are what heal each other.  My heart broke from the start for Sawyer, what she ran from, what she survived. Finn, oh my broody, heartbroken Finn, you had me in tears more than once from your pain.  I knew underneath all that rough exterior that there was a man worthy of Sawyer and you showed that more than once.  Finn is sexy, he can be an asshole for sure but he is also amazing.


So many things happen in this book and I refuse to spoil it.  I obviously loved Finn and Sawyer but I also loved all of the other characters we meet along away, especially Miller and Josh.  I can’t wait to get my hands on the second book I am already sitting here wishing it was ready right this very second because I can’t wait to find out what happens.  If you are a fan of T.M. Frazier or are new to her books make sure you have The Outskirts on the TOP of your TBR lists, you don’t want to wait at all to read this one, trust me on that!



Sawyer My throat tightened and a heaviness grew in my chest like my heart didn’t know whether to beat faster or stop beating altogether. “Did you leave me all this to show me the life you could’ve had, but didn’t? Why!?” I pounded the wheel again and then again, and again and again until my vision was blurry and all I could see was the redness of my own heated rage. “You’re a fucking coward! You fucking COWARD!” I screamed to no one, pounding on the wheel until the skin across my knuckles split and blood dripped between my fingers. Strong hands bit into my biceps, yanking me from the cab. I was spun around by my shoulders and found myself face to face with Finn. “I like it when you swear,” he said, pressing close. “Finn, get off me! Get off me! Let me go!” I wailed, struggling to free myself from his grip. Kicking out my legs only to connect with the air as he evaded my every move. A growl tore from his throat. Finn picked me up and walked me to the back of the truck, setting me on the open tailgate. He pushed himself between my legs and hovered over me to keep me from leaping off. “Let me go,” I demanded, pushing at his hard chest. “I don’t have time for your broodiness right now.” Finn held my wrists together with one hand. “No, of course you don’t. You’re too busy tearing up pictures and screaming at no one.” “Let me go,” I repeated. “No,” he said between clenched teeth. “Just go! Leave me alone. Leave meeeeeee!” I wailed as I pounded against his stone chest. “You don’t want to hit me,” he warned, his eyes hardened. “Then let me go.” “Why?” He stepped in closer, unaffected by my attempt to fight against him. My inner thighs were touching his outer thighs. “Because she did!” I screamed, my eyes sprang open to find his cold blue gaze. “She could have run anywhere and taken me with her. Instead she left him but she left me too. She was a coward who couldn’t make the right decision and I love her. I love her…but I hate her. I hate her so much…so…” I was interrupted when Finn’s lips pressed against mine, momentarily rendering me stupid. I pointed my toes toward the sky to avoid my initial instinct which was to wrap my legs around him. It was so consuming that I momentarily forgot to fight him off, but I didn’t need to, he pulled his lips from mine. “Stop doing that,” I said. I pushed him off but he stayed between my legs, his hands on my bare back just under the hem of his big t-shirt I was wearing. His gaze hardened. I could see the conflict written in his lined forehead and the deep V between his eyes. I had no doubt the conflict had everything to do with me. And kissing me. “It’s your fault that I do it,” Finn said, his voice deep and smooth against my chin and then my neck. “So that’s your plan? Kiss me every time you want to shut me up?” I asked, still feeling every bit of my anger but also feeling something else. Something that sent tingles between my legs and an ache in my core. “Thank you for saving me. Really. Thank you. I appreciate it,” my voice cracked. “But you can just leave me alone now. And please, STOP kissing me.” My words a whisper. “I’m going to kiss you whenever I want to kiss you,” Finn stated as if I didn’t have a say in the matter. The early morning sunlight highlighted the beads of sweat trickling from his shoulders down his broad chest and across the valleys of his defined abs. He was standing so close that we were breathing in each other’s air. “Whenever you want to kiss me?” I laughed. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand any of this. You’re always mad at me. Why did you save me? Why do you keep kissing me when you’re always mad at me?” “It’s when I’m pissed off at you that I want to kiss you the most,” Finn said, his voice flowing over my skin like a silky blanket. He slid me closer so I could feel the outline of his rigid erection as if he were proving a point. He lowered his lips to mine and consumed my mouth in a greedy kiss that had me shaking with need and spinning with confusion. “Do you always kiss everyone you hate?” I asked, yanking my lips from his. “Does this feel like hate to you?” he growled pushing his hard length between my legs.

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TMFrazierAbout the Author:

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter. When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance. Well…it has a beach in it!

Connect with T.M. Frazier:

Twitter: @TM_Frazier
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Blog Tour! Exes With Benefits By Nicole Williams




***He wants a second chance. I want a divorce. To get what I want, I’ll have to give him what he does.***


From New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, Nicole Williams:


The only benefit I want from my ex is a divorce. 

We got married for all the wrong reasons. The one thing we got right was our separation. I should have known better than to think I could bet on forever with a guy like Canaan Ford. Everything about him screamed impermanent, from his wild eyes to his restless soul. 

When I left him and the small town I’d spent my whole life in, I swore I’d never go back. Never only turned out to be five years. Canaan claims he’s changed, but he hasn’t—same knowing smile, same rough demeanor, same body crafted from sin and sinew. And yet, something is different. He thinks this is his chance for redemption. My disagreement comes in the form of divorce papers dropped in his lap. He refuses to sign them. Unless . . .

He wants a month to prove himself to me—that’s his offer. One month to make me fall in love with him again and if I don’t, he’ll sign the papers. As much as I want to say no, I agree. I can suffer my ex for a short amount of time if that’s what it takes to be free of him once and for all. I fell for him once; I won’t make that same mistake twice. 

He says we’re not over. I say we were over before we got started. Only one of us can be right, and I can’t let it be him.


Exes With Benefits reminded me a lot of one of my favorite movies ever, almost to the point that I was sitting here like ummmm but it had enough differences to make it stand out.  What happens when the person who you loved with all your heart destroyed your relationship with their actions and until you walked out the door made the effort to change, to prove to you years later that they don’t want to give up when you want a divorce?  This is exactly what is happening with Maggie and Canaan.

As much as this book reminded me of my favorite movie I really had a hard time with Maggie.  I understood why she had to do what she did, but after about the twentieth insult to Canaan who you could tell was honestly trying I almost wrote her and the book off, but I wanted to see what happened and while I may not have loved every moment of it, I did enjoy it and that is because of Canaan.  I wish we would have gotten his POV at some point in the book, to see why he kept fighting for her knowing that she may still walk away in the end.

Overall Exes With Benefits was a good read, one that I at the end enjoyed and has now made me want to watch that movie tonight.








“One month. That’s nothing in the scope of a person’s life.” He slid a bit closer.
“One month is everything when it comes to opening myself back up to you.”
He didn’t argue that. He let silence speak for him instead.
“What exactly are you expecting during this one month?” I might have winced when I heard myself say those words.
He rubbed his mouth, trying to hide whatever was trying to form. “For you to give me another chance. For you to be my wife.”
The term made me nauseated. “Your wife? As in your indentured servant? No way.”
It was a smile he was trying to hide. Not very successfully. It made me thankful I’d slipped into these old boots so I could give him a solid kick in the ass if necessary.
“Like be willing to spend time with me. That’s it. That’s all,” he added when he correctly interpreted the question in my eyes. The question.
“What will we be doing during that time we’re spending together?” I pulled at the chest of my dress when I noticed the way his gaze had lingered there a moment too long.
His shoulder rose. “Got any ideas?” There was an unmistakable glint in his eyes.
“No,” I answered instantly.
“You used to have plenty of ideas for filling the time.” He took a swig of his Coke.
“And then I learned how to use my brain.”
He studied my fake smile, almost like he was contemplating what it would feel like against his mouth. “Dinners. Dates. Simple stuff like that.”
I held my best poker face, considering his offer. I didn’t want to stay married to him. If one more month was what it took to be free of Canaan Ford, I could suck it up. I’d already made it five years. “No expectations of anything of a physical nature?”
“If I remember right”—his eyes narrowed as he rubbed the back of his head—“it was generally you who instigated all of that back then.”
I shoved his chest. Bad idea. Solid. Firm. Home.
My jaw ground as I worked to erase that word from my conscious where he was concerned. “And you were just the perfect gentleman.”
Canaan snatched my hand before I could pull it away. Holding onto it, he dragged me closer. Not so close that our bodies touched, but close enough the separation was painful.
“Exactly,” he said in that low voice of his. The one he’d whispered my name in so many times as he moved inside me. “A gentleman gives his woman exactly what she needs. As many times as she need it. Just doing my part.”
“How noble.”
“That’s right. So if you want to make any changes to this one month agreement, consider me your humble servant.” When his hand dropped to my waist, his touch hesitant at the same time it was insistent, I didn’t flinch out of instinct the way I should have.
Instead, I had to remind myself to pull away from him; to flinch at his touch. “I have a boyfriend, Canaan.” Even to my ears, it sounded like a weak protest.
His hand didn’t fall away when I stepped back. “You’re a married woman, Maggie.”
“My husband forfeited his rights years ago.” My eyes found his, expecting them to shoot away once mine made contact.
They didn’t. His gold eyes held to mine. “He’s here to reclaim them.”




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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.


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Throwback Thursday! King By T.M. Frazier


*Note original review posted on My Secret Romance Book Reviews and is being posted with permission*

*Also it is T.M. Frazier's birthday so this is the perfect choice for Throwback Thursday!*


Homeless. Hungry. Desperate.

Doe has no memories of who she is or where she comes from.

A notorious career criminal just released from prison, King is someone you don’t want to cross unless you’re prepared to pay him back in blood, sweat, pu$$y or a combination of all three.

King’s future hangs in the balance. Doe’s is written in her past. When they come crashing together, they will have to learn that sometimes in order to hold on, you have to first let go.

Warning: This book contains graphic violence, consensual and nonconsensual sex, drug use, abuse, and other taboo subjects and adult subject matter. Although originally slated to be a standalone, KING is now a two part series.



I had forgotten how T.M. Frazier can write something that is painful and yet at the same time it makes you fall in love with the bad guy, or in this case the King. I am going to straight up tell you that this book is not a happy go lucky oh lookie unicorns and rainbows type of happily ever after, it is so far from that it’s not even funny. It has drug use, sex, abuse, lies, violence and death, so if you don’t like or can’t handle those things in your books then I suggest you skip King. However, if you are like me who loves a book with a darkness to it and has no issues about those things then I don’t think you will like it, I think you will love it.

King is an asshole, a bad boy, hell he could be the poster child for being the epitome of an asshole. Look up the definition of asshole and his picture should be right there with it. But, he is so much more, and when we can chip away at the walls surrounding King, you see that he is so much more than what people see. He has a reason for being how he is, and he isn’t going to apologize for that and he shouldn’t.

Doe has no memory of who she is, she’s homeless and is barely surviving. She ends up at King’s coming home party with the hope of finding a bed and food and at this point she really doesn’t care what she has to do to achieve that. When something happens and King collects her as payment she doesn’t know to be scared, pissed, or relieved. She has a mouth on her that can get her in trouble in a heartbeat, and she has no problems telling King what she thinks. Slowly a relationship between them form and can see how these two have broken down their walls, that is until something happens that made me scream all sorts of profanities for a good five minutes straight. I’m not saying one instance or a couple made that happen, this is something you will have to find out on your own. And that ending, I need to get Tyrant right this second just so I can see what happens next, because yes there is a cliffhanger but luckily we don’t have long to wait for the rest of King and Doe’s story.

If you are a fan of T.M. Frazier’s previous books, I know I am, then you will want to read King right away because it will keep you on the edge of your seat wanting more.






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Release Blitz! The Attraction File By Elizabeth Lynx



She's Cold. He's Hot. When they get together they burn. 

Evaleen Bechmann is too busy running Human Resources for the billion-dollar company, Mimir, to even consider dating. As for emotions, she refuses to discuss that too. It doesn't matter anyway. She's invisible to men, especially one man in particular. Evaleen is fine with that. Not everyone gets their happily ever after, that’s only for novels.

Edgar Mirmir is a Nordic god to some, a tech-savvy genius to others, and to women – he is everything they desire. His life should be perfect, and everything he has ever dreamed of… only it’s not. One woman haunts him. When he first saw her, her electric blue eyes shone with defiance, fear, and sorrow. He wanted to reach out to her, but she disappeared. Until one day he turned around and there she was.

I have to be honest.  I struggled to finish this one, and I hate saying that but it’s the truth.  I just couldn’t get into the story; I felt no connection to it.  I don’t know if it is that I don’t mesh well with the author or if it was just I wasn’t interested when I started it but whatever the case may be, The Attraction  File Just sadly didn’t work for me.







AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS






I turned back to end this conversation. “Listen, Chewie—”
“Albert. My name is Albert.” He leaned closer and he wrinkled his forehead in such a way that made it obvious he was fishing for my name. He can keep on fishing because that was on a need-to-know basis. My mother always said, “Evaleen Bechmann, you are being paranoid,” but in the age of the Internet, giving him my name could be as powerful as giving him a knife.
In a way, I felt bad for Chewie-Albert. The poor guy obviously never learned how to deal with a woman. He believed groping me and refusing to take the hint that I didn’t want to go out with him was normal. And that’s just sad he’s so oblivious.
“Okay, Albert. You seem like a nice, if not, handsy Star Wars . . . purist. You got a killer costume that any other Star Wars purist of the female species would love—”
“I hear ya.” He winked, nodding as his eyes perused my form.
Sighing, I realized in that moment the Wookie wasn’t getting it. I shouldn’t be surprised, every man I had met hadn’t gotten it. They touched and they took, but they didn’t understand. That’s why I avoided them. Preferring to remain alone.
“I am not that female, Albert. I am the type of female who chooses to not dress in fur costumes, or skimpy princess costumes, or costumes in general. This female just likes to stand in a line and be left alone. So, good luck finding your princess, but I am as far from a princess as you will find around here.”
His shining brown eyes dimmed as my words began to sink in. Before he could get any more Wookie courage, I turned back to find the blonde still at the counter.
Normally, I left people alone because, unlike Albert, I respected their space. But surviving on only three hours of sleep before an interview for a job that I needed, action was necessary.
Taking a step forward, I tapped the blonde on her bulbous shoulder and took a breath. “Excuse me, Miss, but I believe it has been ten minutes, which is plenty of time to order your drink. Some of us don’t have the luxury of time, and were kept up by our roommate doing gymnastics in bed with her boyfriend until four in the morning.” I gritted my teeth and shook my head trying to get back on point. “So, if you wouldn’t mind placing your order and letting the rest of us have a turn . . .”
Just as I finished, the woman turned to face me.
She had a beard. Also, an Adam’s apple.
The woman wasn’t a she but a he. He had a beard, lush and blond like his long hair, not fake and matted like Albert’s costume. His eyes were the most beautiful gray, like smoke rising from a smoldering fire. They slid over my face.
I shivered.
“Miss?” His deep, velvety tone came out thick as butter and rendered me utterly catatonic. The timbre of his voice like a sonic boom under my skin. His skin, on the other hand, remained still, smooth, and my fingers, for reasons I am attributing to lack of sleep, twitched to touch any part of him.
His eyes widened at what I could only assume was disbelief. Disbelief that a woman of twenty-six years would be referring to a fine specimen of a man, a manly man if you will, as a woman. Despite his thick blond mane and skirted attire, he was all muscle.
I realized this man was in costume too, like Chewie. Only this man was dressed like the Scottish hero William Wallace and not a sweaty sci-fi version of Sasquatch. He even painted his face blue and white.
One would think that a tall man with thick muscles and a wild painted face would instill fear in me, but no. Instead of running in terror, I did the opposite. I laid my hands on him. My fingers caressed his chest working their way down. Doing the exact thing I just lectured Albert not to do. I should have probably stopped.
But I didn’t.
Never in my life had I taken advantage of anyone in this manner but he gave off some pheromone that screamed sex me with your hands. Sensing quickly how firm his chest was it propelled me farther down, down to his abs. The man had a six-pack or maybe even an eight-pack; whatever pack was hiding under that brown threadbare piece of cashmere was making my heart race and lady parts start to turn savage themselves.
“What are you doing?”
He was still there and I was still in the coffee shop. This wasn’t a dream. The kilted blond’s voice broke me out of my self-gratifying pawing and I realized I was feeling him up, or down as the case may be.
What are you doing, Evaleen?
I froze before snapping my hands away. I began to smooth out my unwrinkled brown blazer as if I wasn’t a chest molester and nothing out of the ordinary just happened. Clearing my throat, I tried to salvage what little dignity I had left.
“I . . . I . . .” Was all I could get out before I turned to look at the raven-haired barista who either had a rare eye condition that caused her to shoot fire at anyone she laid eyes upon, or she hated me right now. I was going with the latter, so I turned my gaze to the line of customers who had their phones turned up to face me as they filmed what had been occurring. Including Albert.
Great, not only am I mortified, but I will now be some viral Internet sensation known only as, The Woman Chest Molester.
Now it was the kilter’s turn to tap his foot as he folded his thick, strong arms in front of himself in protection from the mad chest molester. He’ll probably tell tales to his future kids and grandkids of the crazy chest molester. “Be wary of her,” he’d say in a low warning with his dialect suddenly turning from American to Scottish. After all, he was dressed as William Wallace.
 As he crept down to their eye level, and as the window panes would rattle from the storm that swirled outside his Scottish castle, he would whisper, “For if wee girls and boys don’t do as they’re told, the wiry fingers of the deranged chest molester will grab hold!” The kids would cower, holding their blankets to their little faces; one girl would begin to cry as he wrapped his powerful arms gently around her tiny frame in comfort. He’d calm her as he broke out into an old Gaelic tune.
I start humming out loud the only Gaelic tune I know, which wasn’t really a Gaelic tune but it’s Scottish, so close enough.
The barista interrupted my musical display, “Is that ‘I Would Walk 500 Miles’?”
I frowned in shame at what I had become in these past few minutes.
“Blue eyes,” the kilted blond mumbled as he stared at me.


Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU


Author Bio

Elizabeth Lynx writes romantic comedy with steam. She's a recovering comedian. Wife and mother of the male species. Believer in love & laughter. Her life consists of preventing small catastrophes and wondering if a day will exist when she doesn't have to fold laundry.

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Release Blitz! Vice By Rosanna Leo



Casinos, gambling, money, and women, these are all the things Las Vegas has to offer. For a handsome business entrepreneur it’s paradise.
Wearing success like a well-tailored suit, Liam Doyle knows exactly how to lure customers into his grand casino hotels. Every night it’s business as usual while he runs his multi-million dollar empire…until a pesky protester catches his attention.
Staging a one-woman protest, Kate Callender has the potential to be a huge pain in his ass. If he doesn’t take care of her soon, there will be bad publicity slapped all over Vice, the newest addition to his chain of casinos.
But there’s just one tiny little problem Liam didn’t count on—the feisty red-head isn’t about to go down easily. She’s fighting him every step of the way…and he’s starting to like it.







You,” she said on a breath. “Me.” His enticing blue eyes traveled up and down the length of her, one eyebrow raised in frank admiration. “You obviously didn’t do your homework.” Outrage surged through her system. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were yesterday? Why did you let me embarrass myself like that?” The smirk disappeared, to be replaced by a mild expression of boredom. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I always try to size up the competition.” Doyle walked toward her, his large hand extended. The light in his eyes now hinted not so much at merriment as it did danger. She caught a whiff of her favorite men’s cologne by Michael Kors. She’d bought it for an old boyfriend once, but it smelled way better on Liam, as if it were an extension of his persona. His entire ensemble, designer suit, pressed pants, and navy blue paisley tie, reeked of power and privilege that drew her like a moth to a flame. Damn, she’d always been a sucker for a man in a good suit. Get a hold of yourself, Kate. He’s hot, but so is the Devil. He kept his hand out. “Please allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Liam Doyle.” His gaze drifted toward her neckline and back up again. “I think you’ve heard of me.” Wishing she didn’t have to, she took his hand. Electricity shot through her and that damned perspiration appeared on her upper lip again. His grip was that of a man who took what he wanted, when he wanted. She held her head high. “Kate Callender.” He held her hand for a moment, his gaze locked on hers. He then gestured toward the counter, where a teak tray was laden with biscuits and what smelled like expensive coffee. No Folgers crystals for this guy. “Coffee?” “No, thank you.” “Tea?” “No.” “So we’re done with the niceties, then?” “I didn’t come here for niceties.” “Then you’ve come to the right place.” Liam sat on one of the couches, motioning for her to do the same. She continued to stand. Something in his wolf-like gaze hardened even further. “Ms. Callender, why are you picketing my casino?” His direct question set her even more on edge. She cleared her throat. “I have a right to protest what I see as wrong.” His grim smile might have made a grown man sweat, but she didn’t look away. “Let me put this another way. Las Vegas is home to numerous casinos. Why mine?” “If I’m trying to make a point, it only stands to reason I’d pick the most popular casino. I suppose I should congratulate you. Only open for two days, and Vice is already a hit. You must be so proud.” “Yes. Despite having my grand opening spoiled.” “Oh.” She inclined her head in mock sympathy. “I’m so not sorry.” He peered at her, narrowing his eyes. “Are you a Bible-thumper?” “No.” “Campaigning politician? Despite her unease, she laughed. “Do I look like Hilary Clinton?” He looked her up and down, as if her vocation were scrawled somewhere on her and he simply needed to find it. “Aspiring actress? This is probably a publicity stunt to get you viral on YouTube? Trying to get an audition here as a showgirl? Sorry, I don’t use them. The whole concept is dated and demeaning to my female clientele.” Okay, he got some points for that statement. “I’m not a dancer. I’m a singer.” It was his turn to laugh. Despite the bitter tone, his deep timber called to her. “Same difference.” He stood. “I’m not auditioning you, Ms. Callender, as fun as it would be to get you on the casting couch.” And there he lost those points again. “Have a nice day.” “Wait! I’m not trying to get an audition. You need to listen to me.” In a nervous reaction, she fingered the pearl choker at her neck, the one thing she had left of her mother. The one thing her father hadn’t pawned. Doyle turned back to her, one brow raised. “No, I don’t.” He eyed how she gripped her choker. “So you can take your fake pearl necklace and your sneakers and your attitude and go home.” Her attitude? “No. You let me up here. I’m not leaving until you hear me out.” She let go of the choker and let her hands fall to her sides. “And my pearls aren’t fake.” “Why are you here, Ms. Callender? Did you lose money at one of my casinos on your last night out with the girls?” She didn’t want to dignify that with a response, but a smug statement like that couldn’t go unchallenged. “I’m not a gambler.” He leaned against the armrest of the cushy couch and surveyed her through hooded eyes. “Ah, and now we come to the crux of the matter. So, you’re a do-gooder. Let me guess. Gam-Anon?” “New Horizons.” “Never heard of them.” “That doesn’t mean we don’t exist. And unfortunately, there are lots of us. Far too many. What does that tell you, Mr. Doyle?” Liam’s lips twitched into a smile that appeared slightly more friendly than his poker face, as if he enjoyed their banter. He loosened his tie, but his focused gaze continued to grate on her nerves. She stared at the strip of indigo silk at his throat, and was struck by a bizarre and unbidden image. Her, on his bed. Her hands bound with his expensive tie. The strange pounding in her head must have been her racing heart. Where did that come from? Focus, Kate, focus. “I’m not just here because it’s something I believe in. I’m here because my group gets bigger every goddamn week,” she said, concentrating on the task at hand, rather than Liam Doyle’s bed. Lisa’s sad face appeared in her mind, as well as those of her children, the ones who’d spent the last two nights crying for their daddy. Kate blinked away the tears which threatened and aimed her burning gaze at Doyle. “I don’t respect your work, Mr. Doyle. And I don’t respect you.” From the furrow of his brow, Kate thought she’d struck a nerve. His tanned skin seemed paler. After a moment, he said, “So you’re trying to take down my casino with a one-woman picket line? No offense, but I’ve seen better protests at a garage sale.” “I’m trying to create awareness.” Kate stood, having already had enough of their uncomfortable conversation. “I’m not a fool. My intention is not to shut down Las Vegas, or your casino. That’ll never happen. But if I can make a small dent in the wallet of the Strip’s wealthiest hustler during his opening week, then maybe people will take notice. Have you never thought about the addictions riding your customers? Have you ever spent time chatting with the compulsive gamblers downstairs? Because I bet you’d hear a lot of stories. And believe me, the worst ones are the ones they don’t tell.” She paused for breath. “My friend’s husband is probably down there right now, feeding your slot machines instead of his kids.” “Hold on. Don’t pin that on me.” “Oh? Who do I pin it on?” “Look, if you want a donation, I already make plenty. Believe me, I make regular donations to people like Gam-Anon. You know, legitimate charities.” “I’m not here for money, but clearly you are.” The words spilled out of her, kick-started by adrenaline. “You’re a wealthy man. Did you have to open casinos? Were they such a passion for you? Couldn’t you have opened, I don’t know, a supermarket chain instead? Or was that not sexy enough for the great Liam Doyle?” His lips compressed. Had her comment hit home? Good. “You have no right…” “I have every right.” Her face was burning now. “If I can save even a few lost souls from places like this, then I’ll sleep a whole lot easier.” She had to get out before she started crying. She wanted to leave with her head held high. Leave him thinking. She turned and headed for the elevator, but he grabbed her hand before she could get away. “Wait.” Kate yanked her hand out of his grip. “How do you even sleep, Mr. Doyle?” His eyes bored into her. “Like a rock. But that crown of thorns must keep you up at night.” She tried to appear like she was still in control, but that had hurt. “You just keep telling yourself that.” Kate marched to the elevator and punched the button. As the door opened, she threw a look back at him. “By the way, I will be back. I’ll show you how many lives have been devastated by your casinos.” She walked into the lift, even though she felt like running. She didn’t look back. Liam called out to her. “Watch your step, Ms. Callender. I don’t forgive and forget.” She channeled her last ounce of bravado before the doors shut. “You really should see someone for that. I hear being an asshole can be terminal.” Once the elevator began its descent, Kate leaned against the back of the small space and closed her eyes, winded by her hostile exchange with Doyle. She didn’t open them again until the door opened.





Rosanna Leo is a multi-published romance author. Winner of the Reader’s Choice 2015 in Paranormal Romance at The Romance Reviews, Rosanna draws on her love of mythology for her books on Greek gods, selkies and shape shifters.

From Toronto, Canada, Rosanna occupies a house in the suburbs with her long-suffering husband, their two hungry sons and a tabby cat named Sweetie. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.
A library employee by day, she is honored to be a member of the league of naughty librarians who also happen to write romance.






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