Tag Archives: contemporary romance

Samson Teaser Tuesday

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Samson cover

Contemporary Romance, Suspense, Motorcycle Club, Age Gap

 

 

Release Date: February 11, 2022

Charlotte: When I get into trouble, I go big. There was so much pain and fear, I turned my thoughts inward. To Samson. He’s my knight in shining armor. The one man I’ve ever felt a real connection to. Then he was there, killing those who hurt me and sweeping me up in his embrace of warmth and safety. But now he sees me as a victim. Not a woman. It’s up to me to prove I’m made of sterner stuff.

Samson: I had no intention of having sex with the little spitfire, but one look at Charlotte and I knew she was trouble. Our night was the kind of explosive a man can’t walk away from, but I tried. Right up until her daddy showed up telling me she was missing and the last person she was seen with was one of the prospects from Black Reign. Wrangler, the little asshole, had her squirreled away somewhere and I knew if I didn’t find her soon, I might never see her again.

Saving Charlotte from Wrangler will be a piece of cake — after this his days are numbered. Which leaves me with time. Too much time. Time Charlotte’s dad will have to convince her to leave me and come back home. So, how do I fight off another man determined to take my woman from me when that man is her daddy?

EXCERPT

Charlotte

I huddled naked, shivering in the cold damp of the cinderblock basement I’d been thrown into. I had no idea how long I’d been here, but I was estimating at least two weeks. My body hurt all over. The chill made it worse. Also, it had been days since they’d brought me anything to eat or drink, and my stomach was gnawing in protest. Being in a damp basement had its advantages, though. I’d found a source of dripping water to drink. It didn’t smell bad and wasn’t discolored, but, honestly, I didn’t have much choice. It was either drink the water or die. I suspected they were trying to starve me into submission. I could have told them it wouldn’t work. I might be too weak to fight them much, but I’d fight to the very end.

There was thumping above me, and I tried to catch a glimpse of the men holding me prisoner through the cracks in the floor and the one grate that looked straight up into the house. Sometimes they would taunt me through that grate. I tried to use it to my advantage. So far, I knew there were at least five different men around this house who were there frequently. There were others, but they were mostly in and out. I suspected drug deals. Any time someone came down to try to rape me, it was always one or more of the five. So far, I’d been more trouble than a fuck was worth, and they’d left me battered and bruised. I suspected their patience was getting thinner.

Yelling followed the thumping. It sounded like there was a fight going on. I couldn’t hear much of what was being said because they were too far away from the grate or in an area where there were cracks in the wood flooring.

A gun went off, booming throughout the house. I tried to hold back my whimpers, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but it was hard. Not only was I terrified, but I was shivering from the cold.

When the basement door banged open and a body tumbled down the stairs, I couldn’t help my little shriek of terror. Immediately, I moved, getting between two free-standing shelves. They didn’t have anything on them, but if I crouched down, I was pretty sure the shadows would hide me. Cobwebs blanketed my skin, making me cringe, but honestly, any spiders crawling on me weren’t as bad as the men coming down the stairs.

Strangely, there was no dialogue between the two, just grunts and the sound of a fist hitting flesh as one man was beaten violently and the other one went about the grim task in silence.

The one doing the beating was a monster of a man. Huge. Hulking. I couldn’t see much with the only light coming from the open door at the top of the stairs, but he wasn’t someone who’d been here before.

Where is she,” he rasped out. His voice was deadly in its softness… and somehow familiar. I wanted to hope. To hang on to the possibility this man had come to rescue me, not to hurt me. Because if he decided he was taking me, there was nothing I could do to stop him. And he could probably kill me by accident with his hulking size. He almost reminded me of…

Dunno, man.” The man slurred his words. “‘Spos’t ta be don’eer som’mers.”

Charlotte!” the man yelled.

Easy, Samson. If she’s down here, you’ll scare the fuck outta her!”

S-Samson?” I whispered his name, but he must have heard me, because he whipped his head around in my direction.

Toss me a fuckin’ flashlight,” he barked. I heard him catch it, then a bright beam of light shone around the basement for a few seconds before landing on me huddled in my hiding spot. I winced and held up my hand to block the light I knew would eventually hit my face.

Charlotte,” he said, his voice softer now. “I need you to come out for me. Can you do that? I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you now.”

I inched my way back out of my hiding place, the concrete floor scraping my bare hands and knees. I moved out of the little space slowly. When I stood, I was still crouched, ready to duck away from him if needed. “Samson?” My voice was scratchy from lack of water and from screaming so much over the weeks behind me. “Is it really you?”

Follow the Author on Instagram and Twitter: @MarteekaKarland

Follow the Publisher on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter: @changelingpress

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Charming Teaser Tuesday

 

Charming cover

Devil’s Boneyard MC #11

Contemporary Romance, Motorcycle Club, Age-Gap

 

Date Published: February 18, 2022

Publisher: Changeling Press

Dakota — Having a half-brother who’s an infamous assassin isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. At twenty-five, he’s still micromanaging my life. The moment Specter tells me about an arranged marriage to one of his associates I do what any sane woman would… I run. Never counted on meeting a biker I can’t seem to forget, nor did I plan on our two days together to have lasting consequences. When bad men find me, there’s only one person I want. Charming. I’m just not certain I’ll get a warm reception.

Charming — Dakota is different from anyone I’ve ever known, and it’s not because of who her brother is. It’s simply her. Some sixth sense keeps telling me she’s in trouble. When she calls and asks for help, I know I’ll do anything for her. The men after her have no idea she’s mine, or that she’s carrying my kid, but they will soon enough. I won’t rest until they’re six feet under.

WARNING: Charming is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series and can be read as a stand-alone. There’s a guaranteed happily-ever-after, no cliffhanger, and no cheating. This is an age-gap romance of more than twenty years with bad language, adult situations, and violence.

Excerpt

Stop daydreaming, Dakota,” my boss barked from farther down the bar.

I gave him a salute, grabbed the pitcher of beer and mugs, then carried them over to one of my tables. The guys were obnoxious, with way too many grabby hands. I’d already tried moving away multiple times, but it did little good. They latched onto me just the same. Glaring didn’t help either. At one inch shy of being five feet tall, I wasn’t exactly intimidating. Not even to drunk guys who looked barely twenty-one. In fact, I’d wondered if their IDs were fake, but the boss had let them order alcohol.

Not my circus, not my monkeys. If the big guy wanted to get in trouble for serving minors, that was all on him.

Can I get you anything else?” I asked.

How about your number?” one of them asked, leering at me.

Nah, we don’t need her number. Why don’t you give us a round of blowjobs?” All of them laughed. I knew the boss wouldn’t take kindly to me dumping a pitcher of beer over their heads, but it was tempting. My hand tightened on the handle as I slowly counted to ten silently, hoping to cool my temper.

Before I could even respond, a tall man with scruff along his jaw and a leather cut over his shoulders slammed the guy’s head into the table. “Apologize.”

I hadn’t even seen him! Where the hell had he come from? I glanced around and saw several people staring in our direction. The guy pinned to the table didn’t seem so tough now. I got a closer look at the man who’d come to my rescue.

My heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to check my chin for drool. Handsome men were a dime a dozen. Even big sexy ones. But something about this one checked all the boxes for me.

About the Author

Harley Wylde

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Reckless Kings MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, Devil’s Fury MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

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Soulless Virtual Book Tour

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Kings of Chaos MC, Book 9

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 01-21-2002

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Warp

Life taught me not to trust. Family betrayal cuts the deepest of all, and
my kin’s given me plenty of reasons to go by my road name
“Warped.” A Nomad, I make a point of not getting too attached.
Then I become a godfather, and my wall begins to crumble. Against all odds,
their godmother, Jess, would infiltrate my defenses with a fiery kiss that
shows me I can have everything I’m not worthy of. A better man would
let her go, but she’s become a light in the impending darkness
encircling me as my past rises from its grave and refuses to let go.

 

Jess

I spent my life chasing after my dreams and defying the small-minded views
of my tiny southern town. When I saw a chance at a life in California, I
took it. I never imagined a tattooed biker with dark eyes full of malice
would play a starring role in my fantasies. I knew he was off-limits, but
too much to drink has me crossing lines and set things into motion I never
thought possible. The connection we share is something I’ll risk
everything for.

 

Is this a new beginning or the breaking point?

 

Soulless tablet

Excerpt

“Come here,” I demand. 

Her eyes grow round, and she gives a slight shake of her head, remaining where she is against the hallway. 

“Now, Bambi,” I say slowly. 

She sucks her bottom lip in and walks forward tentatively. Her heels click over the wood flooring, and I peer down at the strappy, gold sandals and groan. They’d feel good digging into my back. I’m sick of ignoring what’s between us. If  I end up going to Mexico and never return; it’ll be on my own terms. 

“Close the door.” 

Her hand trembles as she presses the wooden door with a deafening click. 

“I tried to be a good guy and do the right thing.” I grasp my knee with my hands to keep from grabbing her. Tightening and loosening my hold, I can’t take my eyes off her. “I wanted to give you a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that. Nothing has changed. And I’m a selfish man who lives a dangerous life. So I never fuck around when it matters.” 

She swallows loudly and licks her lips. 

“I heard you went on a date.” 

“It …” She shakes her head. “We didn’t work out.” 

“That’s real good, Jess. ’Cause I would’ve broken his damn neck.” 

Flinching, she shakes her head. “Y-You said” 

“Fuck what I said.” I crook my finger, and she walks in front of me. “I’m a bastard. A child born out of wedlock. My parents were never married, but they had a toxic bond that kept them together. When I was young, they used to take me to do robberies. I could fit into all the places they couldn’t, and a lost child makes for one hell of a distraction.” 

“Wa—” 

“Don’t speak.” If I don’t get it all out now, I’ll never do it.

Her head bobs in agreement, and I continue, “They were junkies. All they cared about was getting their next high. There were plenty of times when we didn’t have enough food or a decent roof over our heads. I wish those memories were a blur, but I can remember the sharp pains of hunger and the desperation that comes with doing anything necessary to survive. I didn’t even start school until I was seven because I was too valuable. Plus, they didn’t want to be tracked by the government. 

“I was always aware of how much of an inconvenience they saw me as. I learned early how to fend for myself. I was cooking for myself and keeping a stash of money I slept with for food. It was a place where you had to work hard to survive. Once we settled into a town and Dad learned to be a functioning addict, when I was eight, the beatings started. He laid into Mom and me like it was a new hobby. The sick bastard got off on it. I think he liked our pain just as much as he did the smack. Mom did more and more drugs to numb herself out. Then she settled on heroin, and shit went downhill fast. 

“When I was ten, I came home from school and found Dad beating her. She was already bloodied and limp. I couldn’t tell if she was passed out or dead. His face was demonic. His eyes were black, and he had a wide grin that was too big for his face. I called out. Told him he was going to kill her, and he didn’t even look at me. So, I went to their bedroom and got a gun. I walked back out, threatening him.” 

I keep talking, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. “He laughed. When he hit her again, and the blood splatter coated his face and the white wifebeater he was wearing, I pulled the trigger. It shot him dead in the forehead. I didn’t mean to. I was supposed to frighten him.” I tremble, still remembering the way his body jerked, the light extinguishing his body, and the spray of brain matter as the bullet exited his skull. “My uncles came over and dragged him away. It wasn’t spoken of again in clear words, but my mother made it clear I ruined her life. That she would’ve rather I be the one who died. She hated me. That I was wrong to interfere. Her heroin use spiraled out of control after that.” Breathing hard, I can still see the imagery as clear as the day it all occurred. My stomach bubbles. “So, you see, I’ve always been a killer. It’s what I know how to do. You might even say it comes naturally.” 

She gives a sound of protest. 

“It’s why I avoid attachments. They haven’t ended up well for me. When my mother OD’ed, I was taken to live with my uncle. He seemed decent for the first six months. Things were better— there was plenty of food and attention. I thought I’d have a better life. Then the late-night visits started.” My stomach lurches. “You can fill in the blanks ’cause you’re a smart girl. You understand why I don’t do intimacy. Kissing disgusts me, but the minute you put those pouty lips on me, you cracked my soul wide open. The rotten core I thought died years ago had a little left, and you breathed life directly into it.” 

I look up and meet her tear-filled eyes. “You woke the beast and turned him into some fresh new monster. Where I’m going, I need my wits about me. I can’t be worried about what you’re getting into here.” 

“Are you asking me to wait for you?” 

“Maybe? I can’t give you promises. I’m being pulled in too many different directions right now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I won’t beg. But I’m hoping for the first time in a long time. “I can say we’ll talk about it when I get back.” 

Stepping forward between my legs, she cups my face. “I feel it, too, War. The pull, the attraction and sense of rightness.” She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against mine. “I don’t want to keep fighting what’s not going away.” 

“Then don’t.” 

About the Author

Shyla Colt

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at www.shylacolt.net

 

 Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Goodreads

Instagram

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

 

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Soulless Virtual Book Tour

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Soulless cover

Kings of Chaos MC, Book 9

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 01-21-2002

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

Warp

Life taught me not to trust. Family betrayal cuts the deepest of all, and
my kin’s given me plenty of reasons to go by my road name
“Warped.” A Nomad, I make a point of not getting too attached.
Then I become a godfather, and my wall begins to crumble. Against all odds,
their godmother, Jess, would infiltrate my defenses with a fiery kiss that
shows me I can have everything I’m not worthy of. A better man would
let her go, but she’s become a light in the impending darkness
encircling me as my past rises from its grave and refuses to let go.

 

Jess

I spent my life chasing after my dreams and defying the small-minded views
of my tiny southern town. When I saw a chance at a life in California, I
took it. I never imagined a tattooed biker with dark eyes full of malice
would play a starring role in my fantasies. I knew he was off-limits, but
too much to drink has me crossing lines and set things into motion I never
thought possible. The connection we share is something I’ll risk
everything for.

 

Is this a new beginning or the breaking point?

 

Soulless tablet

EXCERPT

“Come here,” I demand. 

Her eyes grow round, and she gives a slight shake of her head, remaining where she is against the hallway. 

“Now, Bambi,” I say slowly. 

She sucks her bottom lip in and walks forward tentatively. Her heels click over the wood flooring, and I peer down at the strappy, gold sandals and groan. They’d feel good digging into my back. I’m sick of ignoring what’s between us. If  I end up going to Mexico and never return; it’ll be on my own terms. 

“Close the door.” 

Her hand trembles as she presses the wooden door with a deafening click. 

“I tried to be a good guy and do the right thing.” I grasp my knee with my hands to keep from grabbing her. Tightening and loosening my hold, I can’t take my eyes off her. “I wanted to give you a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that. Nothing has changed. And I’m a selfish man who lives a dangerous life. So I never fuck around when it matters.” 

She swallows loudly and licks her lips. 

“I heard you went on a date.” 

“It …” She shakes her head. “We didn’t work out.” 

“That’s real good, Jess. ’Cause I would’ve broken his damn neck.” 

Flinching, she shakes her head. “Y-You said” 

“Fuck what I said.” I crook my finger, and she walks in front of me. “I’m a bastard. A child born out of wedlock. My parents were never married, but they had a toxic bond that kept them together. When I was young, they used to take me to do robberies. I could fit into all the places they couldn’t, and a lost child makes for one hell of a distraction.” 

“Wa—” 

“Don’t speak.” If I don’t get it all out now, I’ll never do it.

Her head bobs in agreement, and I continue, “They were junkies. All they cared about was getting their next high. There were plenty of times when we didn’t have enough food or a decent roof over our heads. I wish those memories were a blur, but I can remember the sharp pains of hunger and the desperation that comes with doing anything necessary to survive. I didn’t even start school until I was seven because I was too valuable. Plus, they didn’t want to be tracked by the government. 

“I was always aware of how much of an inconvenience they saw me as. I learned early how to fend for myself. I was cooking for myself and keeping a stash of money I slept with for food. It was a place where you had to work hard to survive. Once we settled into a town and Dad learned to be a functioning addict, when I was eight, the beatings started. He laid into Mom and me like it was a new hobby. The sick bastard got off on it. I think he liked our pain just as much as he did the smack. Mom did more and more drugs to numb herself out. Then she settled on heroin, and shit went downhill fast. 

“When I was ten, I came home from school and found Dad beating her. She was already bloodied and limp. I couldn’t tell if she was passed out or dead. His face was demonic. His eyes were black, and he had a wide grin that was too big for his face. I called out. Told him he was going to kill her, and he didn’t even look at me. So, I went to their bedroom and got a gun. I walked back out, threatening him.” 

I keep talking, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. “He laughed. When he hit her again, and the blood splatter coated his face and the white wifebeater he was wearing, I pulled the trigger. It shot him dead in the forehead. I didn’t mean to. I was supposed to frighten him.” I tremble, still remembering the way his body jerked, the light extinguishing his body, and the spray of brain matter as the bullet exited his skull. “My uncles came over and dragged him away. It wasn’t spoken of again in clear words, but my mother made it clear I ruined her life. That she would’ve rather I be the one who died. She hated me. That I was wrong to interfere. Her heroin use spiraled out of control after that.” Breathing hard, I can still see the imagery as clear as the day it all occurred. My stomach bubbles. “So, you see, I’ve always been a killer. It’s what I know how to do. You might even say it comes naturally.” 

She gives a sound of protest. 

“It’s why I avoid attachments. They haven’t ended up well for me. When my mother OD’ed, I was taken to live with my uncle. He seemed decent for the first six months. Things were better— there was plenty of food and attention. I thought I’d have a better life. Then the late-night visits started.” My stomach lurches. “You can fill in the blanks ’cause you’re a smart girl. You understand why I don’t do intimacy. Kissing disgusts me, but the minute you put those pouty lips on me, you cracked my soul wide open. The rotten core I thought died years ago had a little left, and you breathed life directly into it.” 

I look up and meet her tear-filled eyes. “You woke the beast and turned him into some fresh new monster. Where I’m going, I need my wits about me. I can’t be worried about what you’re getting into here.” 

“Are you asking me to wait for you?” 

“Maybe? I can’t give you promises. I’m being pulled in too many different directions right now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I won’t beg. But I’m hoping for the first time in a long time. “I can say we’ll talk about it when I get back.” 

Stepping forward between my legs, she cups my face. “I feel it, too, War. The pull, the attraction and sense of rightness.” She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against mine. “I don’t want to keep fighting what’s not going away.” 

“Then don’t.” 

 

 

About the Author

Shyla Colt

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at www.shylacolt.net

 

 Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Goodreads

Instagram

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Welcome to Drake Isle Blitz

 

Welcome to Drake Isle cover

Contemporary Romance

 

Release Date: January 12, 2022

Publisher: DFM Publishing

““Welcome to Drake Isle, where time moves differently, the air feels cleaner, the sun warmer, and the world feels calmer…”

Emotions are intense and unstoppable. This island is filled with love.”

I want to live on Drake Isle!”

 

Find out why readers love Allie Boniface’s island romance series in this duet boxed set:

Because of You (Book One) – Ten years ago, Piper Townsend fell to her death from the top of a fraternity house, and no one on Drake Isle has ever been the same. Blake Carter’s fraternity was scandalized. Misterion College closed down. And Blake’s girlfriend Emmy fled the island after her best friend died and never looked behind her.

Now Blake’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar tech firm looking to relocate to the island. Emmy owns a yoga studio in the building he wants to buy. They haven’t spoken in ten years. They’re on opposite sides of the bargaining table. But old flames die hard, and sometimes soulmates can set the world on fire all over again…

Finding You (Book Two) – Lillian Santini came to Drake Isle pregnant, broke, and alone.Two decades later she owns a renowned beauty salon and has raised her twins to adulthood. Fiercely independent, she has no interest in settling down. Then she meets Trey.

Trey lives a jet-set life on the mainland, a billionaire who’s hidden a shockingly abusive childhood from the world. His best friend, the only person who knew his secrets, died in a tragic accident twelve years earlier. Lil and Trey’s attraction is instant. Their desire is powerful. But can two people from different worlds find love on Drake Isle, or will past secrets tear them apart?

Bonus Story! Deck the Isle is a sweet Christmas story that takes place between Books 1 and 2 and highlights the island decked out at holiday time (along with a few more secrets between characters…)

 

If you like small town island romance with a hint of mystery, then you’ll love this introduction to the Drake Isle series. Jump in and discover the magic of the island!

Welcome to Drake Isle tablet

 

Excerpt

 

Why don’t we all close our eyes and get started,” Emmy said. Her hands were sweating. The back of her neck was sweating. She blew out a long breath and focused on the back wall of the studio. “Breathe in, hold one second, and breathe out. Again, breathe in…”

She had no idea how she got through the hour. She wished Blake had chosen an Advanced Class, just so she could put him through pigeon pose and a headstand or two. But apparently the basics of Sun Salutation were torture enough. He grunted trying to keep up. Once he stumbled and nearly took out the little girl in front of him. A sheen of sweat appeared on his brow, and in the middle of tree pose, as he was wobbling and reaching for the wall to keep from falling, Emmy could swear he cursed under his breath. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. He narrowed his gaze at her. She narrowed hers right back.

Finally the class drew to its ritualistic end. “All right, lie back, extend your arms and legs fully, and let go. Relax your breath. This is Savasana pose, also known as corpse pose, the way we end every yoga class. It is a chance for you to let go of all your efforts and let the effects of your practice sink in.” And a chance for Emmy to gain her composure, because as much as she’d gotten a kick out of watching Blake struggle, she’d also felt a slip of desire more than once.

Those palms, spread wide on the mat, that had once wrapped around her waist.

Those legs, strong calves and thighs, that used to flex while sprinting down the college football field.

That square jaw, the dark hair, the quiet sounds of sleep she used to love to wake up next to.

Stop remembering all that.

Sure. She could stop breathing too, while she was at it.

Emmy summoned them to a seat at the end and chanted the final meditation. As they rolled up their mats and replaced their shoes, she turned on the lights and slipped a waiver onto a clipboard for Blake. Really, she didn’t want his paperwork. She didn’t even want his money. It wasn’t like fifteen dollars was going to make or break her at this point. If he had five thousand dollars he wanted to put out for the class, that would be another story, but he’d made it pretty clear the other day that he was interested in buying the whole building out from under her. For way below its market value, probably.

Goodbye, thank you, see you soon!” she called as the women walked out. She hoped one of them would stay, even if they made comments about Blake being her boyfriend, but they didn’t. It was as if Bev’s Boutique was having a fire sale they all had to get to. In less than five minutes, she and Blake were alone.

Well, that was interesting.” He rubbed his shoulder. “That was a beginners’ class?”

It was.”

Some of those women are in pretty good shape.”

They are.” Maybe if she spoke in single syllables and short sentences, he’d get the hint and leave. “Here you go.” She handed him the clipboard.

Emmy.”

Please don’t call me that.”

He swallowed back whatever comment he’d been about to make and glanced at the clipboard instead. He filled in the lines with a few scribbles, pulled out his wallet, and handed over a ten and a five.

Thank you.”

Can we talk?”

About what? Did you have questions about the class or any of the poses?”

He gave her a look, that look, the one he used to level on her back in school when she was being deliberately unreasonable and they both knew it. “Actually, yeah. That dog one? Where we were supposed to be upside down? I don’t think I was doing it right.”

Downward Dog?” One corner of her mouth tugged. Don’t laugh at him. Don’t even smile at him. But she couldn’t help it. “You weren’t.”

I knew it.” He looked at his mat, still lying on the floor. “Can you help me?”

Blake.”

I’m serious. My doctor keeps telling me I need to relax. If I can learn yoga, maybe she’ll be happy. My father had already had his first heart attack at my age.”

Fine. Come over here.” She unrolled her own mat and laid it a few inches from his. “Now watch.” She balanced herself on her hands and feet, straightening her legs and stretching deeply into the pose. She loved Downward Dog. It made her feel grounded and secure, even when nothing else in her life did. “See how my back and my arms are straight? And my head is down?”

He ran one hand along her spine. “Yes.”

She dropped to her knees. “Hey.”

Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

She looked up at him, and there was another look she knew, a look she’d seen a thousand times before. Want. Love. Or something like it. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Like what?”

Like you’re about to kiss me.”

An eternal moment hung between them, and then Blake leaned over and did just that.

Welcome to Drake Isle paperback


About the Author

Allie Boniface

Allie Boniface is the USA Today best-selling author of over a dozen novels, including the Drake Isle, Cocktail Cruise, Hometown Heroes, and Whispering Pines series. Her books are set in small towns and are all about the feels of falling in love.

Allie currently lives in a small town in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York with her husband. When she isn’t teaching high school English, she likes to travel, visit the local shelter and love on the kitties, lose herself in great music, or go for a run and think about her next story. Take some time to browse around Allie’s website, check out new and upcoming releases, and sign up for her newsletter.

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