Title: Hot for Me Author: Tam DeRudder Jackson Genre: Rock Star Romance
ADAM
A bonafide pop diva, all sass and scandal, Cristy Valor commands headlines wherever she goes. The tabloids love her—and love to hate her. From the first time her sexy alto voice rolls over me, she has all my attention. When she joins Balefire on our latest tour, she sashays across the stage in her wild-ass costumes and parties hard enough to keep up with my boys and me. She drives me batshit crazy—and I love every second of it.
Sex on stilettos.
Pure trouble.
Our sizzling chemistry could shoot a rocket into space, and it’s not long before I crave her. For the first time in my life, I want to share everything with a woman. But Cristy is hiding something, something that holds her back from giving me all of herself. She’s about to find out that I’m a patient man—and I always get what I want.
Cristy
Adam Tron is the poster boy for tall, dark, and sexy. His bass rhythms are enough to make me cream my panties every time I hear them. Flirting with him during our live shows is a rush but nothing compared to what happens when I finally give in to my lust and share his bed. The problem is, sex isn’t all he wants.
For my entire career, I’ve set the narrative, teased the tabloids with scandals that kept them too busy to look into my past, too busy to discover the secret that could end the party for good. Adam Tron could wreck me, steal my heart—and my music. I can’t let him in. I can’t let him discover the secret behind the nightmares I have nearly every night. He thinks he can slay all my monsters, and it would be so easy to let him. But if he finds out the truth, will he still be hot for me?
Unlike our first show, Cristy didn’t change her costume again before the end of our last set. When we stepped backstage to catch our breaths before the encore, I expected to see her, maybe tell her how fucking awesome she’d been out there. But she didn’t join us. The crowd’s demands for more didn’t leave me time to ponder the situation as I downed a bottle of water and joined my guys back out in front of the frenzied fans.
As we played the first few notes of “Something’s Gotta Give,” Cristy skipped onstage to join us. I had to work hard to maintain my concentration on the song as she danced for the audience in an outfit that reminded me of Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. That is, if Dorothy only wore the blue plaid apron part of her dress over some kind of frilly underskirt that barely covered her ass. And those shoes? Red-sequined stilettos fitted with enormous bows? So fucking hot.
She sashayed her way from Dakota to Blu, drawing everyone into the party she was having with us. Right as we came to the pause before the bridge, she deliberately stepped in my direction, the look in her eyes a dare—pure trouble. I didn’t even try to stop the grin spreading over my face as I watched her come for me.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, are we boys?” she purred during the bridge as she ran a bright blue manicured nail down the middle of my chest.
My breath caught in my throat. My fingers stilled on my bass for one note. And Cristy Valor laughed. I swear she gave her ass an extra shake just for me as she strutted toward the front of the stage.
I finished playing the show in a daze. As the last notes of the final encore reverberated off the back of the stadium, the five of us stepped to the front of the stage, made our final bow, and ran backstage together. Cristy fist-bumped and high-fived each of us as we laughed in pure joy. What a fucking rush.
Before we split to go to our respective dressing rooms, she leaned up and whispered in my ear, “See you in a few minutes.” Like an idiot, I stood there grinning my face off. Jack rescued me from looking like a total moron when he dropped his arm over my shoulder. “Come on, Tron. Let’s hit the showers. Then we can play with the ladies.”
Tam DeRudder Jackson is the author of the paranormal romance Talisman Series and the contemporary romance Balefire Series. Her favorite “room” in her house is her back patio where she dreams up stories of romance and risk. When she’s not writing her latest paranormal or contemporary romance, you can usually find her driving around with the top down in her convertible or carving turns on the slopes of the local ski hill. The mom of two grown sons, Tam likes to travel, attend rock concerts, watch football and soccer, and visit old car shows with her husband. She lives in the mountains of northwest Wyoming where she spends most of her free time trying to read all the books. Her TBR piles are threatening to take over her office, and she’s fine with that.
Title: Pierce Her Author: Kelly Finley Series: Come for Me #1 Genre: Romantic Suspense
She’s the hero. He plays one. That’s why falling in love could be the biggest—and best—mistake of her life…
Former Marine Charlie Ravenel devotes her life to protecting women. A job that’s left its mark on her—body and soul. When she’s not working, she’s safe hiding in the shadows. Alone. But when a young celebrity finds herself tormented by a dangerous stalker, Charlie vows to keep her safe.
One problem. She’ll just have to avoid her client’s sexy co-star—the alluring one who seems so intent on breaking down Charlie’s defenses…
No one really knows Daniel Pierce. They think they do. Millions want him. But no one knows what’s beneath his heroic veneer. He doesn’t let them. Until her.
Charlie, with her arousing smile and razor blade tongue, attracts him like no other. He’d do anything to ease her pain, to make her his. How can he lure her into giving him a chance?
If Charlie has any hope of overcoming the demons of her past in time to save the girl, she’ll have to trust her gut…and Daniel. But what if trust is a luxury she just can’t afford?
PIERCE HER, Book One in the COME FOR ME series, is a steamy, romantic suspense novel featuring a kickass heroine who just happens to fall for Hollywood’s sexiest man alive.
Relief dropped the tension in her shoulders when she turned to unpack the rifle. She had to turn away. Away from Daniel Pierce to and her breath.
What the holy fuck was that, Charlie Girl?
Her body howled awake at his handshake. At his touch. The first time in six years it had responded to any man.
As a bodyguard, the sets she worked on accustomed her to being surrounded by beautiful people, men and women. She had seen, hell fought off, how such beauty was as much a burden as a blessing for many of them. She learned to treat them like nobodies. Or anybodies. It was one of the many reasons they trusted her.
But damn. Daniel Pierce, famously the sexiest man alive, possessed so much exquisite physical DNA it required a full audit. Sure, she had seen him plastered across covers and screens. A sudden flush fired up her cheeks for the solo plea‐ sure she gave herself at the sight of his photo a few times in the past. But that was a screen, a fleeting fantasy. This was him, palpable and in person. And oh, where his staggering bounty of beauty stopped, his sexy charisma raced, lapping her body for the win.
Damn, Charlie Girl. She adjusted the scope on the rifle. Slow your roll. You’ve got a job to do. A girl at risk.
And she’d fucking asked for this. Asked Anders where the cast hung out. Wanting to meet each one of them. Off set. In a setting where their guard was down. In a setting where a stalker may betray himself.
She wasn’t wheels down in Madrid for twenty-four hours, kissing her relaxing trip to Miami with Juliette goodbye, before she found herself jumping into the damn deep end of this job. Right into the ocean of Daniel Pierce.
And it was raging wet.
Over six feet of hulking muscles wrapped down a body that famously took discipline and sacrifice to achieve. Black hair fell in soft waves, framing aqua eyes as deep as a cenote, enticing anyone to jump in. Stubble blanketed a square jaw and deep cleft chin. Pillow lips formed a perfect soft bow, almost feminine, until they flashed a white-hot, hungry smile.
He was cast as Zeus, the god of gods who had no equal, many enemies and could bed any woman in a comic book series turned movie franchise. Two films had dominated the box office in the blockbuster series. A third was rumored. And everywhere Daniel Pierce went, he was “Zeus” to his fans. Charlie read how many followers and press also branded him— “Sex God.” Careful, Charlie Girl. With a look like that, you’ll have a lot more to protect than a girl.
Kelly Finley is fiction author of contemporary romances featuring bada** women and grown-a** men. She lives in the Carolinas with her husband and family. A rebel with many causes, she fancies black leather, dirty jokes, and smart mouths.
Thrilled by a flipped script and ticked off by women portrayed as weak, she noticed how many steamy, sexy heroines were missing, particularly from suspense and military romance. Her friends shared the frustration and told her to practice what she has taught for twenty years. Her books feature characters we champion and love—ones with shameless heat, brave hearts, and whip-smart minds.
She’s most likely at her keyboard right now, putting the next heroine on the page.
Title: The Liars Beneath Author: Heather Van Fleet Genre: Young Adult Thriller
A romantically dark YA thriller set in the backdrop of Iowa’s suspenseful farmlands.
After a tragic accident ends her best friend’s life, 17-year-old Becca Thompson succumbs to grief the only way she knows how: by wallowing in it. She’s a fragment of the person she once was—far too broken to enjoy the summer before her senior year. But when Ben McCain, her best friend’s older brother, returns home, Becca must face her new reality head on.
She isn’t interested in Ben’s games, especially since he abandoned his sister during the months leading up to her death. But when he begs for her help in uncovering the truth about what really happened the night of his sister’s death, Becca finds herself agreeing, hoping to clear up rumors swirling in the wake of her best friend’s accident.
An unhinged ex-boyfriend, secret bucket lists, and garage parties in the place Becca calls home soon lead her to the answers she’s so desperate to unveil. But nobody is being honest, not even Ben. And the closer Becca gets to the truth—and to Ben—the more danger seems to surround her.
Clearing her best friend’s name was all she wanted to do, but Becca is quickly realizing that the truth she craves might be uglier than the lies her best friend kept.
It was almost midnight when I heard the knock against my window. Three soft and consecutive thuds, all of which match the beat of my heart. Why he chose that way to get my attention instead of texting, is a mystery. The kind of mystery I was way too amped up to question.
I wasn’t excited in the sense that I like him and want to spend time with him or anything. At least that’s what I told my racing heart when I first saw his smile from the other side of the glass. He’d been crouched on his belly on the roof of our porch like a stealthy spy, and the sight was something I’d never forget.
I’d thrown a hoodie on over the Tee I’m dressed in, pairing it with some denim cutoffs. Then I tossed my hair up into a messy bun and slid on some cherry Chapstick—but only because my lips were chapped. That’s it. No other reason whatsoever.
Once my Docs were on, I slid out my window and met him head on, the two of us jumping the five feet off the low hanging roof. I’d giggled uncontrollably when he landed on his butt instead of his feet, and he’d nearly pulled me down with him when he tried grabbing my laces. That would be the last time I’d ever not tie my boots.
“Guess what?”he whispered when we started to walk away from the house. “I researched your family tree today and found out that you, Becca, are the biggest sap.”He ended that statement with a tap to my nose. My freaking nose, for God’s sake.
He’d booped me.
My response—one which had been paired with a hard thump to his equally as hard abdomen: “You’re so dumb, you planted a dogwood tree and expected a litter of puppies.”
We both laughed at how stupid we sounded, yet at the same time it felt good to just be goofy. Or dare I say, normal. Though that word—normal—was a bit of a stretch when it came to the two of us anymore.
After that, Ben took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and proceeded to lead me to where we are now: the middle of the cornfield.
I trail my fingers over the silky corn stalks, marveling at their height and the way the midnight moon reflects off the green color. Nothing about this spot eases my frazzled nerves, of course. It doesn’t give me peace of mind like it once had when I’d come out here with Rose either. It’s kind of like the alcove in that sense—a spot tainted by a bad memory, despite the many good memories trying to override it.
Ben moves closer, our shoulders brushing.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Stuff.” That no longer matters. A time and a place and a memory that’s long past.
“Rose said you guys used to hang out here a lot.”
I shrugged one shoulder, unwilling to indulge in what happened the last time she and I had been out here. It’s not a huge thing, smoking weed and all, but for some reason, I don’t want Ben to know that it’d been my bucket list item, not Rose’s. It shows my age—how I’d been so young and inexperienced.
Not that I care what he thinks.
“It’s nice,” he continues. “Quiet too. I can see why you liked it.”
“We did some of our best thinking out here.” Thinking that was more along the lines of Rose smoking joints, while I stood by to keep watch.
“Hmm.” He nods, kicks the toe of his foot into the dirt. “I’m gonna go to that party on Saturday,” he tells me out of the blue.
I frown. “You think that’s smart after beating up Adam like you did?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because Adam’s gonna be there.” He looks away, but I don’t miss the flex of his jaw—not even in the dark. “I don’t trust the guy.”
I turn him around by the shoulders, forcing him to stand in front of me. “What’s there not to trust, exactly?”
“Lots of things.”
“Like what?”
“I’ve got facts that need exploring.” His lips purse.
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes. “Because you’re suddenly a detective now. I forgot.”
Adam wouldn’t hurt a puppy, let alone be behind Rose’s death. He used to talk big, but his love for my best friend was endless. Without a doubt, I know that’s who her secret boyfriend was. I just don’t get why they never went public.
“I’m more of a private eye, actually.” He covers one eye and curls the corner of his upper lip, making an argh noise.
“That’s a pirate, not a private eye, dork.”
“Either way, they’re both sneaky, right?” I sigh, wondering if he’s always been this weird. Cocky, a smartass, and a huge instigator—that’s Ben. Not funny.
Heather Van Fleet is a stay-at-home-mom turned book boyfriend connoisseur. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, a mom to three girls, and in her spare time you can find her with her head buried in her Kindle, guzzling down copious amounts of coffee.
