Tag Archives: K. Ryan

COVER REVEAL- ALL OF THE LIGHTS BY K. RYAN

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All of the Lights

by K. Ryan
Publication Date: August 22, 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, Suspense

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#PREORDER: http://bit.ly/AlloftheLightsKRyan

Synopsis: Two households. One secret that will change everything.

I was raised to believe his family was nothing but trash.
I was raised to believe her family was the root of all evil.

I sent his brother to prison.
I should hate her for what she did.

I’ve never fought a day in my life.
I’ve fought every day of my life.

I need him to help me find answers.
I need her to set the record straight.

I should stay away from him.
I should walk away from her.

But I can’t.
But I can’t.

This book is a standalone, contemporary/mystery romance and is intended for readers 18 and older

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All of the Lights Teaser 1

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

There’s nothing but darkness in this alley and that’s all I need.

Am I stupid? Absolutely.

But something tells me it would be even stupider to stay out in the open and anywhere near the lighted street. At least here, I can hide in the shadows. All I have to do is wait.

What exactly it is I’m waiting for remains to be seen.

I shift anxiously from side to side, keeping as much pressure off my sore knee as possible and my eyes tilt up to the night sky. Right in between the buildings, above the skyline, there they are. All of the lights in the city can’t hold a candle to the stars—they’re my savior from the darkness, the guides that lead me to something bigger, something better, something peaceful.

A door creaks open to my right and my head snaps toward the sound.

Out here by myself in this dark alley, I’m pretty sure I’m a disgrace to my gender. I know better than this. I know better than to drift away from the herd. Nothing good ever comes from it.

And then I get better look at this new, potential threat standing just ten feet away.

Heat flushes my cheeks and I have to swallow my heart back down into my stomach. It flip­flops one more time as my eyes flit back to my intruder, whose presence seems to take up the entire alley.

He’s tall with a mess of dark hair, the sides buzzed tight against his head, with just a plain white T­shirt and black gym shorts on. My eyes zero in on his broad shoulders and the myriad of tattoos reaching all the way down to his wrists. Finally, my gaze trails back up to his face. Even though half of it is covered by dark scruff, I can’t look away. His eyes glint in the moonlight as he catches me staring and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad for me.

Is it completely wrong that I’d gladly hand over my purse if he asked?

He has one of those faces that’s almost painful to look at, but it’s the contradiction written all over him that I can’t move past. From the tattoos, the thick silver cross dangling around his neck, the dark intensity radiating off him, the thick muscles peeking out from his shirt sleeves, everything about him screams danger. Even his stance reads as defensive—wide legged, chest puffed out, both hands in his pockets, shoulders square with the building in front of us.

It’s the curve of those full lips that has me rooted to the cement. The way his grey eyes soften with curiosity as they roam my face. His left eyebrow lifts when I find myself fighting a smile and finally, he tilts his head back to gaze up at the stars I’d just been admiring before his interruption.

“Nice night,” he murmurs and it takes me a moment to realize he’s not talking to himself.

His accent is unmistakable. The clipped syllables, hard consonants, and quick ‘i’s are a dead giveaway. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard a true, genuine Boston accent—Philly doesn’t even come close to the distinct pronunciation you’ll hear in Boston, and specifically, in Southie.

Bennett’s inflection has waned through the years, mostly from when we lived in Philly during college. From this guy, though, it might as well be music to my ears.

I swallow hard as my stomach flutters a little too much. “Yeah, it is.”

That’s the best I can come up with? Really?

He tilts his chin up in my direction as he ventures a step closer to me. “Hey. You got a light?”

“No,” I laugh. “Sorry.”

He just shrugs and pulls a vape pen out of his pocket so he can take a nice long puff from it.

“Why did you ask me for a light if you didn’t need one?” I frown at him.

His lips curl around his vape pen and some vapor flows out of his nostrils before both his shoulders shrug again. “Just wanted to getcha talkin’. Figured it was worth a shot.”

“That was your move, huh?” I laugh as my eyebrows shoot up into my forehead. “Does that usually work for you?”

Now his lips pull apart in a wince as his free hand scratches the back of his head. When his head turns to find me, there it is again. The hard with the soft. The masculinity right along with a sheepishness, a shyness even, that just doesn’t make sense.

“Ah,” he exhales. “You’re right. That beat wicked hard. It was the best I could come up with under the pressure.”

His accent has me biting down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling. Wicked hard. If only he could hear himself from my end…

“What?” he frowns.

“Nothing.”

Those gunmetal eyes narrow ever so slightly, but there’s no danger to be found. They’re all a playful softness that I haven’t seen in…God, I don’t know how long.

“Can I have another shot?”

And here I was fully prepared to hand over my purse.

My smile must’ve been the go­ahead he needed because he takes that opportunity to inch a little closer to me, but he’s still got his shoulders square with the street as he slips his vape pen back into his pocket.

“Okay,” he rubs his hands together in thought and then shoots me a sly glance. “How ‘bout this one? I just heard someone inside the club say the word of the day is legs. What do yah say we head back to my place and spread the word?”

My eyes widen, momentarily stunned into silence, and my mouth practically hangs on its hinges. It takes me a second, but as soon as I see the mischief in those grey eyes, I bark out a loud laugh and shake my head.

His hands spread out at his sides. “What? No good?”

“Terrible,” I laugh. “And offensive, too. If I didn’t know you were joking, I’d have to punch you. Or scream for help. There’s gotta be something a little better,” I squint up at the sky in thought, “What about this one? It’s a good thing I brought my library card with me because I’m checking you out tonight.”

After a moment of careful consideration, he nods. “It’s not bad. It’s not great either.

There’s always this one—you look cold. Wanna use me as a blanket?”

I blow out a breath, my head rocking back and forth a little on my neck as I mull it over.

“Eh. I’m not into it. How about this? I lost my keys. Can I check your pants?”

His shoulders shake with laughter and he rubs a hand over his mouth. “Okay, okay. I can get behind that one. I’m a big fan of this one though: are you free tonight? Or do I have to pay you?”

“Ugh,” I groan and tilt my head back to squeeze my eyes shut. “Never say that again.

Ever. What about…got any Irish in you? Want some more?”

“Nice try. I guess we’re on the right side of town for that one,” he shudders a little through his chuckle and then snaps his fingers. “I’ve got it: you have 206 bones in your body.

Let’s add one more.”

I resist the urge to swat him on the shoulder. Do not get engage physically. Pretend he’s a creeper. God, if this is what a creeper looks like, then sign me up. He must have a waiting list.

I get the sense our little game has reached its end because he glances covertly around my shoulder and cocks an eyebrow at me.

“I’m not gonna have an angry boyfriend all up in my face now, am I?”

This time, I don’t miss a beat. “Geez. That’s probably the worst line you’ve used on me this entire time. Not very subtle, my friend. Not. At. All.”

He holds his hands up in defense. “Just tryin’ to cover all my bases before we slide into home later tonight.”

“Oh God,” I grumble. “I take it back. That was the worst one. And no, there’s no angry boyfriend, so you can rest easy while you watch the fight now.”

Grey eyes squint back at me for just a second and then one side of his face curls up into a smirk. “I wasn’t that worried,” he slips his phone out of his pocket and glances at the screen before tilting his chin up to me again. “Got a little time before I have to head back inside. You’re comin’ in for the fight though, right?”

“Ah, no. I wasn’t planning on it,” I shake my head at him and his eyebrows fly into his forehead.

“What?” he frowns. “What are you doin’ then? And don’t take this the wrong way, but you really shouldn’t be out here by yourself. You’re lucky as shit it was me who walked out that door and not someone else.”

“I know, I know,” I wave off his concern even though my cheeks are hot. “It’s a long story. My sister wanted to see the fight, but she’s not on the list. My friend has a cousin who bartends here, so he’s trying to get her in. I just wanted some quiet, but this wasn’t really the place to look for it, was it?”

Now his frown just deepens and I can see how this would be confusing. If I’m standing outside waiting with my sister to get in the club, then why wouldn’t I go inside too? That would just open up a whole other mountain of questions I don’t want to touch with a ten­foot pole, so I skirt around anything that would potentially identify me as the one person who shouldn’t be within a hundred miles of this place.

“Besides,” I push on. “You’re one to talk. I thought the whole reason people vaped was so they didn’t have to go outside to smoke. What are you doing out here?”

“Same thing you were,” he shrugs and then that sly glint is back. “If your friend can’t get your sister in, I’m sure I could find a way to sneak her inside.”

“Thanks,” I smile. “That would be really nice of you.”

“It’s not a problem. Especially if it gets you inside the club, too.”

My eyes lift back up to the night sky above us. “Another terrible line. And sorry, but my friend and I have other plans tonight.”

“It wasn’t a line,” he tells me and I think I believe him. “What exactly are these other plans?”

“Oh, you know, just some dancing and listening to awful club music. But it’s good though. I’ve been needing to do something like this for awhile.”

All I have to see is the question in his eyes and it just tumbles out.

“I just moved back to the city three months ago. I was stuck doing accounting and risk­management for a firm in Philly and I hated every single second of it. I’m sure you’re wondering why I even bothered,” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and didn’t give him the chance to respond. “I guess the simple answer is that math was just always something I was good at, so I just kept doing it.”

It was the safe choice and it was a choice I’d regretted all the way up until my boss called me into his office. Still, a stable career with guaranteed income and health insurance is hard to argue with, but there’s a reason I still haven’t updated my resume.

“Anyway,” I push on, very aware that his full attention rests on me. “I got let go, which, let’s be honest, is just a nice little euphemism for you suck and you’re fired.”

He huffs out a laugh, but I find sympathy there, too. He’s listening. He’s not walking away now that our conversation has shifted to something a little more personal. He wants to keep talking to me, so I might as well run with it. Who knows when I’ll ever get the chance to have a moment with someone like him again?

“It was a relief, actually, even if their methods were terrible,” I shake my head at the memory. “They actually called me in on a Thursday morning, told me I’d lost my job, and then expected me to finish out the day.”

“Jesus Christ,” he exhales and blows out a deep breath. “So did yah stay?”

“Nope,” I grin back at him. In a rare show of real courage, I’d packed up the little belongings I had at my desk and walked right out the door. It’s one of the few things in my life

I’m actually proud of.

“Good girl,” he nods. “What were they gonna do? Fire yah?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s feckin’ typical, though, right?” he shakes his head and tucks that vape pen out of his pocket again to take a long pull from it. “You’ve got these corporate jockeys who just see you as a number on their spreadsheets and a notch on their yearly take­home ‘cause they have to give you a severance package. Lemme guess, they used the good ‘ol, this has nothing to do with your job performance excuse, huh?”

“Pretty much,” I laugh mirthlessly. “And they added in, this is strictly budgetary too just for good measure.”

“Bastards,” he mutters with a smirk. “You’re better off where you’re at now.”

“Maybe,” I allowed. This was the part where I really needed to end the story, but my mouth just wouldn’t stop. “I guess it didn’t really help that my boyfriend decided to dump me a week later.”

The sting still hasn’t gone away. That rejection and dismissal from both my job and my relationship. Not being wanted. Not being important enough to fight for. I guess that’s the story of my life—one big fat dead­end after another, forever fated to afterthought status.

His eyebrows fly all the way up to his hairline and he lets out a long whistle. Now he’s angled his body so that we’re finally facing each other for the first time since he walked out here.

A tight smile presses to his lips, but this time, some of the playfulness that had been there before has evaporated. Before either of us can get another word in, my phone rings from inside my purse and I dig inside it to glance at the caller ID.

My sister’s puckered­up face flashes across my screen. For the first time in too long, I hit ignore as he watches my movements from over my shoulder and toss my phone back into my purse.

“That was my sister,” I shrug, but I can’t focus on much else but the way his forehead has creased into a deep frown. “I’ll check in with her in a little bit.”

His eyes flick back up to me again and some of that softness is back again.

“Your sister doesn’t look anything like you,” he muses, gauging my reaction carefully.

He’s officially hit a sore subject—I’ve responded to this exact same non­question my entire life and giving my stock answer one more time still doesn’t sit well. My sister, with her long, flowing chocolate hair, matching eyes, and tiny frame, is the spitting image of my step­mom. I, on the other hand, look like a clone of my mom, or so I’ve been told.

“We’re half­sisters,” I tell him, my eyes drifting back down to the pavement as I speak.

I have no idea why I just told him that. It wasn’t like he asked, but I offered that piece of information without a second thought.

He mulls it over as he rocks back on his heels a little. “Families are bizzah.”

I’m still rusty, still trying to shake Philly off me, and it takes me a second to realize he means bizarre. Still, I appreciate the sentiment and return the sympathetic smile he’s sending my way.

“All families are messed up. I think some of us are just better at hiding it than others.”

He nods with a somber smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “So I really can’t convince yah to come in, can I?”

“Nope,” I shake my head even though I have to admit, he’s almost got me. “Sorry.”

“Did you at least put some money down on the fight?”

I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess since I’m here anyway…

“Who should I bet on?”

That devilish smile slides up his lips again. “Put whatever you’ve got on Flynn. He never loses.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

He slips his phone out of his pocket again to glance at the screen. “Couple more minutes and I gotta head back inside. Well, if you’re ditchin’ me tonight, maybe I can catch yah tomorrow?”

Heat rushes into my cheeks again and spreads all the way down to my toes. If he knew who I was, he’d probably push me into oncoming traffic, but I can’t resist the sincerity in his voice. I’ve known this guy for a whole ten minutes and I’ve basically told him my life story, save for a few minor, important details. It just slipped out and I don’t really know why I felt comfortable enough to tell him all that. I just know I felt it. Too bad there’s a little snag in his plan.

“I’m pretty much working all day tomorrow,” and then the words slip out before I can stop them. “What about Sunday?”

He clucks his teeth together and winces. “Sundays aren’t real good for me, but I’d move some things around if I didn’t have to work.”

“Where do you work?”

It finally dawns on me that he hasn’t asked me that question yet and I’m grateful for it. I just want this to last a little longer before the inevitable implosion.

He motions with his head toward the bar.

“Really? Are you a bouncer or something?”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “Nope. I bartend here pretty much every day except Fridays and Saturdays. It turns into a pretty nice, respectable sports bar when all this other shit isn’t goin’ on.”

I can’t help the way my lips curl up at his pronunciation: baah.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say innocently.

He rolls his eyes up to sky and glances at me exasperatedly. “Anyway, if you’re done zooin’ on me, maybe you’d wanna stop by this way on Sunday anytime after six? I gotta go to mass and then I gotta visit my brother, so I won’t be in the bar before then.”

“Oh,” I nod carefully, weighing the pros and cons of actually showing up here again on

Sunday. I just need more time, so I shift from side to side, wincing a little as the pressure on my knee shoots down to my ankle.

He frowns at the moment, catching the pain that must be written all over my face.

Now I throw the first thing I can come up with at the wall and hope it sticks. “Does your brother live here in the city?”

Cloudiness fills his eyes and all I get is: “No.”

Still, I push forward because I’m grasping at straws in my weak attempt at stalling.

“Where does he live?”

“Prison.”

“Oh,” that’s about all I can come up with. “I’m sorry.”

He just lifts a shoulder, but a tight line ticks down his jaw. “Maybe it’d be a little different

visitin’ him every week if he actually did what they said he did.”

I don’t have much time to digest that because my phone rings again and some quick digging inside my purse shows me that Bennett’s calling me this time. This is dangerous territory, but I just can’t force myself to walk away just yet. It’s so easy, standing here and talking to him like this. I can’t remember the last time anything felt this effortless.

But when he glances at his phone again, I know our time has officially run its course. It was bound to happen eventually, but that still doesn’t explain the disappointment that this fleeting moment in a dark alley outside a club is over.

“I gotta head back inside now,” he pauses and then his lips curl into the most devastating grin I’ve ever seen. “You gotta come in for the fight. Even if it’s not your thing, your sister’s probably already inside and you can meet up with her. And after the fight, I’d really like to buy you a drink. I can usually guess people’s drink and I think I’ve got you figured out. I

wanna see if I’m right.”

“I doubt it,” I laugh, but it’s forced and fake, seeped in regret. It feels duplicitous, standing here talking to him like this when I know I’ll never get to see him again, when I know something he doesn’t. “I don’t drink hard alcohol anyway.”

He just shrugs like that little kernel of information isn’t important and in the grand scheme of things, I guess it isn’t. I almost said, anymore, but he doesn’t need to know that. And I don’t need to rehash why either.

So I waver between doing the smart thing and the dumb thing. The problem is that it feels like there’s a dangerous grey area between those two choices. Part of me desperately wants to see where this goes and how long I can slide under the radar. The other part of me knows this will just epically blow up in my face.

“Come on,” he tries again. “I don’t even know your name. Help a guy out, you know?”

My body freezes right where I stand. Here it is. Next stop, Implosion City.

“Okay, fine. Let’s do this the hard way,” he chuckles and shakes his head as he backpedals toward the side door. “I lost my number. Can I have yours?”

A light chuckle vibrates in my throat and even though the risk is obvious, I don’t care.

This is a free­fall I don’t know if I can survive. But I jump anyway.

My fingers grope around my purse for a pen and something to write on. When my name and number are scribbled on the back of an old receipt, I hand it to him and leave the rest up to fate. His eyes skim the paper and his lips curve up victoriously.

“Rae,” he murmurs. “That’s pretty.”

“Thank you.”

He shoves the paper deep into his pocket and holds a hand out for me to shake. I slip my hand into his larger, warm one and the feel of his skin against mine short­circuits my brain for a second.

“Jack,” he tells me with a wide grin.

He doesn’t let go of my hand, but I freeze all the same. Jack. Whose brother lives in prison. Who works here at this club. Every day except Fridays and Saturdays. When the fights happen.

His lips dip into a frown, but when they part, his eyes shoot up to something over my head and toward the front of the street. Strong arms shove me protectively into the cement as a hard body shields mine from the chaos around us. Everything seems to happen in slow motion and before my brain even has a chance to catch up, the quiet night air erupts in ear­splitting pops.

All of the Lights Teaser 2

ABOUT K. RYAN

K. Ryan

K. Ryan lives in the Green Bay area with her crazy-supportive boyfriend and the best decision of her adult life, a not-so-stray cat named Oliver. When not writing, she’s either binge-watching something on Netflix, running, reading, or cheering on the Packers.

Follow her on Twitter and Instagram (@authorkryan) and Facebook or visit her website,www.authorkryan.com, for updates and news.

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Blog Tour: Carry You Home by K. Ryan

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CARRY YOU HOME
by K. Ryan
Carry Your Heart, #2
Publication Date: February 9, 2016
Also in this series: Carry Your Heart
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, New Adult

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Amazon (#FREE with #KindleUnlimited)

Synopsis: The conclusion to Caleb and Isabelle’s story…

Everything is going as planned, for the most part. With school, the club, and new responsibilities on the horizon, the life Caleb and Isabelle imagined together is so close they can taste it. But their happiness is also a fragile one–all it takes is one wrong turn, one stupid decision and their happily ever after shatters all over the highway.

Because as old threats resurface and new ones rise, the most deadly enemy of all lies not in outside forces, but inside the club itself. How do you follow orders when you know those orders might destroy everything you love? How do you move forward when all your best-laid plans slip right through your fingertips?

Choice breeds consequence. Hope rises from the ashes. Love weathers any storm. And in the end, every road leads home.

**Carry You Home is not a standalone and is the sequel to Carry Your Heart. It is intended for readers 18 and older**

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Excerpt 

Caleb

“Can I make you dinner tonight?”

She laughed and I had to steel all my control just so I didn’t ruin this moment by kissing her again. “Can I help?”

My eyes widened and my mind immediately jumped back to every single one of Isabelle’s cooking disasters in the past. Chicken, spaghetti, lasagna, even homemade pizza—each one more horrific and traumatizing than the last.

“You know, Iz, I think my stomach’s finally recovered from your cooking. Maybe—ow!” I ducked when she swatted at me again.

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed again. “It wasn’t that bad.”

I just cocked an eyebrow her way. Enough said.

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling and she sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe it was that bad, but I’m much better now. I can actually make an entire meal without getting anybody sick or burning down my kitchen.”

“Tempting,” I held my hands up. “But you’re my guest. I’m gonna cook for you whether you like it or not.”

“Oh boy,” she muttered under her breath and whether I liked it or not, she sank down right onto my bed.

To be fair, there really wasn’t anywhere else to sit, but I still wasn’t prepared for the sight of her sitting there, waiting for…something. I took that as my cue to get my ass to work and after a quick inventory of what little food I had in my barely-existent kitchen, I got down to business. Isabelle observed me with careful curiosity as I got the sauce going and mixed up some batter before tossing the chicken in.

She leaned over my shoulder to inhale the aroma of tomatoes and Italian spices and her eyes widened. “Wow, that smells amazing. Since when do you know how to make chicken parmigiana?”

“Since always,” I tossed back. “You just never got a chance to try it because you were too busy trying to kill us with salmonella.”

She smacked me on the shoulder and shook her head, muttering, “Asshole.”

“You know,” I wagged my marinara-stained spoon at her as I spoke. “How have you managed to survive all these years anyway?”

“Just fine, thank you very much,” she shot back. “I took some cooking classes and everything. But I guess some of us go grocery shopping a little more than others.”

I laughed as I dumped the sauce and a shitload of mozzarella cheese on top of the chicken and shoved the dish in the oven. Little did she know that Saul kept all the fridges stocked—the one in our break room downstairs and the one in my apartment. Whatever he bought, I cooked.

When I turned back to her, I leaned up against the edge of the counter with my arms folded across my chest.

“So you’ve got cooking classes, a kick-ass art studio, the fancy apartment, and a dog,” I surmised.

“Hey, I can take care of myself. You don’t even know the half of it. If anybody ever messed with me, I could totally take ‘em.”

“Oh really?” I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Yep. You think Coop’s all I got? I have a bat under my bed, I carry a knife in my purse, and I took a self-defense class with one of the assistants at the gallery a few years ago. I got a certificate from the class and everything. It’s official—I’m a real badass.”

“Huh.”

While part of me was impressed, and a little turned on by the idea of her wielding a bat, the idea of her in an apartment all by herself didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t even want to think about any times when she hadn’t been by herself, if she’d had anybody with her for the night…

“So, you know,” she went on lightly. “If you need any protection, you know which girl to call.”

That got my attention and I pushed off the counter to crowd her space a little, willingly playing along. “What makes you think I need your protection?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve got at least two guns here somewhere you’re not supposed to have.”

I cocked a playful eyebrow at her, liking the turn this conversation had taken. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen my moves,” she laughed, grinning up at me like we were the only two people in the world and nothing else around us existed.

“Alright, alright,” I pivoted around her to put some space between us and motioned toward myself with both hands. “Bring it. Show me what you got, Martin.”

Her head tipped back as she laughed and waved her hands in front of her. “Your funeral. But this only works if you come at me.”

My lips twisted into a wolfish grin. Yeah, I definitely liked where this was headed. When I took a few confident steps into her personal space, her hands came down to rest lightly on my shoulders, putting just enough pressure on them to keep me from moving any closer.

“So if you were coming at me from the front,” she breathed, her voice thick and husky. “I would probably bring my knee up like this.”

When her knee lifted up to my groin, just enough to brush up against my jeans, her lips twisted into a knowing, almost powerful smirk. Her knee lingered there for a few agonizing moments, moving up and down with enough sweet pressure to elicit a low growl from me.

“What else would you do?” I murmured into her hair.

“I’d probably go for your knee next,” she whispered up at me. With that, the tortured pressure left from between my legs and she playfully tapped my right knee with her left foot, twisting her hip to press into my knee from a side angle.

“That’s not a bad move,” I chuckled hoarsely.

“I think it’s pretty effective,” she retorted, even though my hand was already making a leisurely trail from her ankle right up to the inside of her thigh. When my fingers skimmed around the curve of her hip, her eyes fluttered shut at the light contact. I wouldn’t let things go much further than this, but for now? I’d let us have some fun.

“Anything else you’d do?”

“Blunt objects are good too,” she murmured, her eyes still squeezed shut. “I could always hit you over the head with my phone or stab you with my keys or something.”

A low chuckle erupted from my throat and I placed a featherlight kiss on her neck, reveling in the taste and the feeling of her sweet skin underneath my mouth. Using my hands to guide her where to go, I turned her around so that her back rested against my chest.

“What if I came at you from behind, huh?” I hummed into her ear. “What would you do then?”

Her breath was coming in more haggard now and I suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that my hands had curved around her waist, teasing her into doing exactly what I wanted.

“I’d probably do something like this,” she pushed out roughly, lifting her left leg up to lightly tap the inside of my foot with her heel. That small amount of pressure against my foot was enough momentum for her to arch her hips right into my jeans, offering up sweet payback with just a little bit of friction.

“Uh huh,” I groaned into her hair, digging my fingers even deeper into her soft skin. “That’s pretty good, too. Anything else?”

“Maybe this,” Isabelle whispered as her right arm reached up over her head and touched her elbow to my cheek. A moment later, her arm continued its ascent and wrapped around my neck, skimming up to run along the buzzed edges of my hair.

“I like your hair like this,” she murmured in my ear.

“Yeah?”

It would be so easy to take this opportunity, one she was giving me so willingly, and let my fingers do exactly what they knew how to do, but we were both too vulnerable right now, too emotional and raw, for this to go much further. But after tonight? That was a different story.

“Hey, Caleb?” Isabelle’s voice called out to me, pulling me from the push and pull of my thoughts. “Do you smell something burning?”

I jerked out of her arms and sped right to the stove, waving away the billows of smoke wafting from it. Oh shit. Of fucking course. When I opened the stove, only to be met with more smoke and the horrible stench of salty, burnt cheese, it only confirmed it: I’d epically screwed up dinner.

My eyes narrowed on Isabelle, who’d all but collapsed on my bed in a fit of laughter. “You distracted me on purpose.”

That just made her double over with more laughter. “I swear I didn’t! You messed up all by yourself.”

I threw a hand towel down on the floor. “Oh, that’s it.”

When I advanced on her, she leapt off the bed and scampered playfully into my bathroom, yelping when I wrapped my arms around her waist and hauled her back into the main room. I tossed her lightly onto the bed and even as she laughed, she’d never looked more beautiful. Her hair fanned out on my comforter, all spread out and waiting for me to run my fingers through it, and all I wanted to do was fall onto the bed with her and let it happen.

But I pulled myself back, firm in my resolve to respect the little bit of room she’d given me to move here.

So I ran a hand over my head and blew out a deep breath as she sat up on her elbows, waiting for me to make the next move.

“What should we do now?” she asked, her breath still coming in and out in short rasps.

Pretty soon she’ll be back where she belongs, I promised myself. Just not tonight.

If she stayed on my bed like this any longer, I’d…and then my mouth quirked up.

“I got an idea, Iz.”

READ CARRY YOUR HEART, THE BEGINNING OF CALEB AND ISABELLE’S EPIC LOVE STORY…

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CARRY YOUR HEART
by K. Ryan
Carry Your Heart, #1
Publication Date: July 14, 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, New Adult, MC

Synopsis: When Isabelle Martin steps onto Sawyer Auto Repair’s parking lot, she can’t believe it’s come to this. After dropping out of a school she never really wanted to go to in the first place and dumping a boyfriend she never really loved to begin with, she thought coming home to Claremont, North Carolina would solve all her problems. Instead, she’s still reeling from her mom’s death six months earlier and trying, but failing to help her dad, who’s sunken deep into a whiskey-fueled depression. Working in the local, motorcycle club-owned, auto shop’s office is a last resort, but it’s the only option she has…even if it means working with Caleb Sawyer, the bad-boy biker with swagger to spare who used to drive her up the wall in high school.

Caleb Sawyer is on the fast-track to a downward spiral. He used to think he had the world at his feet–all he has to do is be patient, earn his keep in the club and in the shop, and his legacy within the Iron Horsemen MC will be his for the taking when the time is right. But that just doesn’t mean anything without his old lady by his side, who wants to leave Claremont more than she wants to stay with him. When the bottom finally drops out, nothing prepares him for the impact and he deals with it the only way he knows how–with whiskey and women. Despite all that, being around Isabelle Martin, the girl whose feathers he ruffled so easily in high school, somehow brings him back to life. She doesn’t take any of his crap, but she calls him on it without judgment and without pity.

Despite some initial animosity, Caleb and Isabelle quickly realize that the perceptions they had of each other in high school couldn’t be further from the truth. The more time they spend together, the closer they become and the more they gravitate towards each other. Both are at a crossroads, but stuck in reverse. Isabelle needs help; she just doesn’t know how to ask for it. Caleb needs a life preserver; he just doesn’t know where to find one. And ultimately, on the path to rediscovery and identity, all roads lead them to exactly what they need–each other.

New adult/contemporary romance told in alternating points of view. Recommended for readers 18 and older.

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ABOUT K. RYAN

K. Ryan

K. Ryan is a former English teacher, who graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point in 2009. When not writing, she’s either binge-watching something on Netflix, running, reading, or cheering on the Packers. She lives in the Green Bay area with her crazy-supportive boyfriend and the best decision of her adult life, a not-so-stray cat named Oliver.

Follow her on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook or visit her website for updates and news.

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Release Blitz: Carry You Home by K. Ryan

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CARRY YOU HOME
by K. Ryan
Carry Your Heart, #2
Publication Date: February 9, 2016
Also in this series: Carry Your Heart
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, New Adult

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Amazon (#FREE with #KindleUnlimited)

Synopsis: The conclusion to Caleb and Isabelle’s story…

Everything is going as planned, for the most part. With school, the club, and new responsibilities on the horizon, the life Caleb and Isabelle imagined together is so close they can taste it. But their happiness is also a fragile one–all it takes is one wrong turn, one stupid decision and their happily ever after shatters all over the highway.

Because as old threats resurface and new ones rise, the most deadly enemy of all lies not in outside forces, but inside the club itself. How do you follow orders when you know those orders might destroy everything you love? How do you move forward when all your best-laid plans slip right through your fingertips?

Choice breeds consequence. Hope rises from the ashes. Love weathers any storm. And in the end, every road leads home.

**Carry You Home is not a standalone and is the sequel to Carry Your Heart. It is intended for readers 18 and older**

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EXCERPT

Isabelle

Both of his hands settled around my face now and overwhelmed by his closeness and drunk on the emotions he’d resurrected in me, I closed the short space between us and pressed my lips gently into his. Caleb stilled for only a moment, no doubt startled by the fact that I was the one initiating this, but I was way past the point of no return now, and he recovered a heartbeat later, tightening his hold on my face, somehow pulling me even closer to him.

It started slow and tender as our mouths tentatively became reacquainted with each other and I couldn’t help the soft moan in the back of my throat just at tasting him again. It had been so long since I’d felt this, I’d honestly forgotten what his lips felt like…or maybe I’d just forced myself to forget. But there was no denying how good this felt, how at home I felt as his hands slid all the way around my waist.

Suddenly, I was moving in the air as he spun us around to press me back into the island. He gripped my hips to hoist me up onto the counter and my legs wrapped around his waist to help him sink in even deeper before I had a moment to recover.

His tongue pushed its way through my mouth and as his rough, familiar hands skimmed up the back of my shirt, just stopping at the edge of my bra. I shivered in his arms and wondered fleetingly if this was just all a dream. If I’d wake up any moment now, alone in my bed, and wondering what the hell just happened. But his lips were still moving over mine, tasting and taking everything I offered to him, eagerly giving it right back to me.

My hands wound their way around the back of his neck and gripped the top of his head as he ground my hips down against the hardness in his jeans. Just as I leaned my forehead against his to sigh into his lips, a loud cough jerked me out of the whirlwind I’d stumbled into it.

My hands dropped away from Caleb’s face and I turned just in time to see my dad shuffling toward the refrigerator. Caleb jolted and hustled out from between my legs to put some space between us. He ran a hand over his head as if to smooth the hair he didn’t really have there and my dad cast a wary glance over his shoulder at us.

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckled. “Just needed something to drink.”

“Sorry, Dad,” I murmured and bit down on my bottom lip as I slid off the counter.

My dad met my eyes briefly before turning his attention to Caleb. “Where are you planning on sleeping tonight?”

Caleb cleared his throat roughly. “The couch.”

“Good,” he nodded and shut the fridge door as he turned to us with a water bottle in his hand. “Probably best to take it slow, huh?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find any words to say. My dad just waved goodnight and disappeared around the stairwell. When my eyes found Caleb again, he was staring slack-jawed after my dad and he shook his head.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “That wasn’t embarrassing or anything.”

Instead of responding, he tucked his hands deep in his pockets and grinned at me.

“I should, um,” I swallowed hard, already backpedalling toward the same hallway my dad had just disappeared to. “I should get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“I’ll be here,” he nodded. “Sweet dreams, Iz.”

I waved awkwardly because there was no way in hell I was getting out of this gracefully and I scrambled up the stairs, practically running my dad over in the process, and didn’t stop until my old bedroom door was shut safely behind me.

CYHome Teaser 5

READ CARRY YOUR HEART, THE BEGINNING OF CALEB AND ISABELLE’S EPIC LOVE STORY…

Carry Your Heart Book #1 Cover

Amazon (#FREE with #KindleUnlimited)

CARRY YOUR HEART
by K. Ryan
Carry Your Heart, #1
Publication Date: July 14, 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance, New Adult, MC

Synopsis: When Isabelle Martin steps onto Sawyer Auto Repair’s parking lot, she can’t believe it’s come to this. After dropping out of a school she never really wanted to go to in the first place and dumping a boyfriend she never really loved to begin with, she thought coming home to Claremont, North Carolina would solve all her problems. Instead, she’s still reeling from her mom’s death six months earlier and trying, but failing to help her dad, who’s sunken deep into a whiskey-fueled depression. Working in the local, motorcycle club-owned, auto shop’s office is a last resort, but it’s the only option she has…even if it means working with Caleb Sawyer, the bad-boy biker with swagger to spare who used to drive her up the wall in high school.

Caleb Sawyer is on the fast-track to a downward spiral. He used to think he had the world at his feet–all he has to do is be patient, earn his keep in the club and in the shop, and his legacy within the Iron Horsemen MC will be his for the taking when the time is right. But that just doesn’t mean anything without his old lady by his side, who wants to leave Claremont more than she wants to stay with him. When the bottom finally drops out, nothing prepares him for the impact and he deals with it the only way he knows how–with whiskey and women. Despite all that, being around Isabelle Martin, the girl whose feathers he ruffled so easily in high school, somehow brings him back to life. She doesn’t take any of his crap, but she calls him on it without judgment and without pity.

Despite some initial animosity, Caleb and Isabelle quickly realize that the perceptions they had of each other in high school couldn’t be further from the truth. The more time they spend together, the closer they become and the more they gravitate towards each other. Both are at a crossroads, but stuck in reverse. Isabelle needs help; she just doesn’t know how to ask for it. Caleb needs a life preserver; he just doesn’t know where to find one. And ultimately, on the path to rediscovery and identity, all roads lead them to exactly what they need–each other.

New adult/contemporary romance told in alternating points of view. Recommended for readers 18 and older.

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Teaser 2

ABOUT K. RYAN

K. Ryan

K. Ryan is a former English teacher, who graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point in 2009. When not writing, she’s either binge-watching something on Netflix, running, reading, or cheering on the Packers. She lives in the Green Bay area with her crazy-supportive boyfriend and the best decision of her adult life, a not-so-stray cat named Oliver.

Follow her on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook or visit her website for updates and news.

WebsiteNewsletterFacebookTwitterInstagramPinterestGoodreads

GIVEAWAY

Carry You Home Giveaway Graphic

a Rafflecopter giveaway

IndieSageBlogger

Contemporary Romance Date Published:  March 2019 Cassie Bowmont had what it took to succeed, at
Romantic Suspense / Contemporary Romance Date Published: September 17, 2019 She’s in love with her
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