Title: Mate for the Howlidays Author: Jessica Coulter Smith Genre: Paranormal Christmas Romance
Dex and Dane couldn’t be more different. One is motorcycle boots, leather, and all things wild. The other is a cowboy hat wearing sweetheart who owns the local bar. And Kizzie is the lucky lady who gets to keep them both!
When she moved back to Wolf Hollow, she only wanted a fresh start. Not once did she ever imagine she’d up being mated to two wolves, and just in time for the holidays!
She smiled wistfully. “That it must be great to have someone love you so much they want to spend the rest of their lives with you. I’ve never had a relationship last past a few weeks. I can’t imagine finding someone who would want me around forever.”
He watched her silently for a moment before hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her up against his body. “Angel, anyone would be lucky to have a woman like you. We might have just met, but I can tell you have class and style, and you seem sweet.”
The champagne glass in her hand fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Suddenly, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to taste his lips on hers. When his head lowered, she went up on tiptoe to meet him halfway. Their lips met, pressing together, then his moved against hers in a gentle caress. Her tongue swept over his lower lip and he opened, deepening the kiss. Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair as his tongue slid along the length of hers. Kizzie felt lightheaded and clung to him tighter. She heard the clink of a bottle hitting the ground, then his hands caressed her waist, stroking up her back until one hand cupped the back of her head. She’d never felt so on fire before.
Award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith has been in love with the written word since she was a child writing her first stories in crayon. If Jessica isn’t writing, then she’s like reading. Her favorite books are romances, but she also enjoys the occasional mystery or general fiction book. Romance is an integral part of her world and she firmly believes that love will find you at the right time, even if Mr. Right is literally out of this world.
You can also follow her blog, Books + Coffee = Happiness, to learn about new releases and discover new authors! http://bookscoffeehappiness.com
We’re about to enter the junior studio on the opposite side of the building when Mara catches up with me.
“Excuse me!” she pants, her cheeks flaming pink. “Could I speak to Mr. Blackwell for a moment?”
The other panel members turn to look at me, to see if I’ll comply.
Sonia is particularly curious. She knew something was up the moment I told her to offer Mara the studio. The discounted rate was a fabrication, invented by me on the spot. The same with this grant. It’s all leverage to get Mara right where I want her: completely at my mercy.
“Of course,” I say quietly. “The rest of you go on without me. I’ll join you momentarily.”
I lead Mara down the hall to an empty studio several doors down. I step into the clean, deserted space. She hesitates in the doorway, afraid to be alone with me.
“Are you coming?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
Pressing her lips together, she marches into the room, closing the door behind her.
I wait for her to speak, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest, thrilling at the hectic spots of color on her cheeks.
She’s illuminated with fury, eyes blazing, cheeks flaming. Her dark hair swirls around her face, defying gravity from the pure electric tension between us. Her thin hands tremble, and she digs her nails into the thighs of her jeans.
“I know it was you,” she says, her voice low and hoarse.
I’m enjoying this so much I can hardly stand it. Her rage, her fear, and the delicious predicament I put her in, all mixed together in a potent cocktail. Her expression of shock when she saw my face, and the awful struggle as she had to discuss her work with the panel, while her brain must have been twisting and turning inside her skull . . . I’m so glad I have it all recorded. I can’t wait to watch it over again tonight.
“What was me?” I say mildly.
“You know,” she hisses. Her whole body is shaking. I’d like to hold her against me, to feel those tremors vibrating through my frame . . .
“Please explain.”
Her eyes glint with tears of fury, but she refuses to let them fall. Her lips are swollen and chapped, as if she’s been biting at them . . .
“Someone snatched me off the street. They tied me up, cut my wrists, and left me in the woods. You were there. I saw you. You stood over me, staring at me. You saw I needed help. And you walked right over me. You left me there to die.”
“What a bizarre accusation,” I say. “Do you have any proof?”
I know she doesn’t. I just want to see how she’ll respond.
“I saw you,” she hisses. “I’ll tell the cops.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” I tuck my hands in my pockets, tilting my head as I look at her. “That would cause a lot of problems for you. You’d lose the studio, of course. The grant, too.”
“Are you threatening me?” Her voice rises, the edge of hysteria sharp as razor wire. “Why are you doing this? Why did you do this to me?”
She holds up her arm so her loose bell sleeve drops away, revealing the long, jagged scar across the wrist. The scar is still healing, raised like a welt on the skin.
“I didn’t do that,” I scoff.
Mara falters, her upraised hand dropping an inch.
Interesting—she doesn’t actually know who cut her.
“You were there,” she insists.
“So what if I was?”
She startles, shocked that I admitted it.
“Then you did this!” she shrieks.
“No,” I growl. “I didn’t.”
In one swift step, I close the space between us. Mara tries to turn and run, but I’m much too fast for her. I seize her by the arm, yanking her toward me, holding up that accusing hand and branded wrist.
I look down into her terrified face, pinning her in place with my gaze as much as my fingers locked around her wrist.
“There’s no limit on predators in the world,” I hiss. “And no lack of damaged girls to attract them.”
Sophie Lark is an Amazon Bestselling author who writes intense, intelligent romance, with heroines who are strong and capable, and men who will do anything to capture their hearts. She lives with her husband, two boys, and baby girl in the Rocky Mountain West.
She has a slight obsession with hiking, bodybuilding, and live comedy shows. Her perfect day would be taking the kids to Harry Potter World, going dancing with Mr. Lark, then relaxing with a good book and a monster bag of salt and vinegar chips.
Title: Heart of Gold Author: Quinn Coleridge Genre: Contemporary Romance
Workaholic attorney Simon Phillips negotiates multi-million dollar deals in the tech world, but he’s secretly falling apart. With an ulcer, insomnia, and a growing dependence on alcohol, Simon conceals his dark side from the other partners at his firm, until the day he wakes up on a bathroom floor in his good Tom Ford suit, smelling of Jose Cuervo. Simon barely remembers his intoxicated rant from the night before, but it lands him with a forced leave of absence and two months of community service.
After choosing to perform his service at an obscure nonprofit medical clinic, Simon meets Dr. Kate Spencer. A dedicated physician and widow at twenty-eight, Kate knows how painful love can be, and she doesn’t trust workaholic lawyers. Especially ones with cool blue eyes and a history of breaking hearts.
Yet a rocky friendship develops between these two world-weary souls, and when dangers from Kate’s past emerge, somehow Simon is the one standing at her side.
Can love help them heal? Or will they miss their chance at happiness?
His thought pattern shut down when they made eye contact. He forgot everything. Anxiety. His job. How to breathe.
She stood in the sad, run-down office, exuding vitality and strength. Her face reminded Simon of a fine painting, one filled with sunlight and smooth, pleasing lines. And pale gold everywhere, on skin, lashes, and hair.
Mermaid eyes, Simon thought. Sea-green.
Beth coughed loudly. “I don’t think we’ve seen you around here before, have we?”
“No. No, you haven’t. I’m Simon,” he replied, tearing his attention away from the other woman.
“Well, hello. My name’s Beth.” She gestured toward the golden goddess. “And this is Dr. Kate Spencer.”
Kate took a step toward Simon. “Why are you here?”
He definitely felt a chill in her tone. Is she frowning at me? And what’s with the attitude? Simon decided to give her another chance and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Spencer.”
Looking as if his hand was infected with any number of contagions, Kate folded her arms. “We’ve met before. Quite a few times.”
Met before? She had to be mistaken. He would have remembered her. “Forgive me but when was this?”
Beth gave Kate a gentle elbow to the ribs. “Why are you being so rude?”
“It’s okay,” Simon replied. “She’s fine.”
He glanced at Beth and then returned his attention to Kate. If the doctor was ice before, now she burned. Her eyes nearly glowed with a fiery greenish-blue light, like a medieval heretic facing her corrupt accusers. Kate had a temper and it was fully directed at Simon. For some perverse reason this made him want to smile.
Instead, he pointed out the obvious. “I get the feeling you don’t like me much, doctor.”
“That’s a safe assumption.”
Beth began to apologize but Simon ignored her. He knew how to handle angry women. Usually they were girlfriends, who moaned about his schedule or lack of commitment, not strangers. “Why is that, exactly?”
Mermaid eyes glittering, Kate said, “This is the fifth time our paths have crossed. Each meeting worse than the one before, I might add. And you still don’t remember me.”
Call him a jackass, a playboy, or a bastard, but casting aspersions against Simon’s mind was an insult of the highest order. He bristled at the mere notion of his forgetting anyone he’d met once, let alone five times.
Quinn Coleridge grew up in the Pacific Northwest where she learned to love rain storms and reading by a crackling fire. She wrote often in a variety of genres, studied literature as an adult, and created a humor column for a small town paper. Since moving to the desert with her husband and kids, Quinn doesn’t use her fireplace much these days, but she still loves books.
