how Priest and Bennett met?
Check out their short story, KING OF LIBERTINES.
It’s available in the AUSTRALIA anthology.
AUSTRALIA
A romance anthology with over THIRTY original, never-before-seen stories from bestselling and award-winning authors.
Each piece was written for this anthology to benefit firefighters and wildlife in Australia.
Only available until May 4, 2020
CLICK HERE
100% of the royalties will be donated to relief funds in Australia.
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Want another gripping love story to sink your teeth into?
The TANGLED LIES trilogy is an angsty, erotic, epic love triangle.
The series is complete, and ONE IS A PROMISE (book 1) is FREE.
An excerpt of ONE IS A PROMISE is included at the end of this book.
Keep scrolling to read or CLICK HERE to download it for FREE.
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I HAVE MORE FREE BOOKS!
The first books in each of my series sets are FREE.
DARK COWBOY ROMANCE
TRAILS OF SIN (series is complete)
Knotted
DARK ROMANCE / ANTI-HEROES
DELIVER SERIES (each book is a different couple)
Deliver
DARK PARANORMAL ROMANCE
TRILOGY OF EVE (series is complete)
Heart of Eve
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Join my reader group, Read Between the Wines:
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LOVE TRIANGLE ROMANCE
TANGLED LIES TRILOGY
One is a Promise-FREE
Two is a Lie
Three is a War
DARK COWBOY ROMANCE
TRAILS OF SIN
Knotted #1-FREE
Buckled #2
Booted #3
DARK ROMANCE / ANTIHEROES
DELIVER SERIES
Deliver (#1)-FREE
Vanquish (#2)
Disclaim (#3)
Devastate (#4)
Take (#5)
Manipulate (#6)
Unshackle (#7)
Dominate (#8)
Complicate (#9)
DARK PARANORMAL ROMANCE
TRILOGY OF EVE
Heart of Eve-FREE
Dead of Eve #1
Blood of Eve #2
Dawn of Eve #3
STUDENT-TEACHER ROMANCE
Dark Notes
ROCK-STAR DARK ROMANCE
Beneath the Burn
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Dirty Ties
EROTIC ROMANCE
Incentive
ONE IS A PROMISE
EXCERPT
“Here he comes.” Virginia wraps a liver-spotted hand around my arm and points her filmy eyes at the vacant street. “Hear that?”
All I hear is the too-damn-early squawk of birds telling me to go back to bed.
“He’s bringing the marijuana into our neighborhood.” The saggy skin on her neck quivers. “I just know it.”
A smile struggles behind my pinched lips. When my hundred-and-ninety-year-old neighbor isn’t complaining about the Bosnians moving in with their pink flamingos and loud music, she’s fretting over alleged drug activity. I love Virginia dearly, but her over-imagination is horribly discriminatory.
For the past few weeks, she’s had her floral smock all twisted up over the tattooed devil on a motorcycle who rides down our block. She can’t see two feet in front of her, but her hearing is sharper than a bat. And she says he’s coming.
A gentle fog blankets the sleepy road. The giant oak trees and quaint brick bungalows in this neighborhood date back to the 1920’s, as do most of the residents. Since I’m the only one under the age of seventy, they all come to me when there’s a problem. Last week, I spent an entire afternoon chasing a poor squirrel out of Jackie’s basement. And Wilson, the Vietnam vet who lives across the street, needs help programming his TV on a weekly basis.
I still don’t hear the offending motorcycle, which Virginia claims rattles her fine china before the Lord has risen for the day. She also swears the pot-smoking heathen tries to run her over when she steps off the curb. Of course, she chooses to alert me of his misbehavior at six every morning.
Seeing how I’m not an early riser, I’m prepared to do anything to put an end to her banging on my door.
So here I am. Armed with coffee—I can’t function without it. Standing in my front yard—it’s cold enough to freeze my tits off. Dressed to kill—I know how to rock a slouchy crop top and cheeky boyshorts.
The plan is simple. I’ll wave down the biker with a little flash of skin. He’ll pull over because he’s a man. We’ll have a friendly stop-pissing-off-my-neighbors conversation, and I’ll be back in my warm bed in no time.
“I’ll take care of it, Virginia.” With a grip on her bony elbow, I guide her across the driveway.
Her house slippers shuffle along the pavement, chafing my patience. By the time I coax her into her home next door, I’m shivering so violently my bones hurt. I consider slipping back into my house to pull on some leg warmers, but an engine rumbles in the distance, maybe two…three blocks away.
Curling my hands around the warm coffee mug, I tiptoe through the chilly grass and step into the middle of the empty street. The gray sky casts the fog in a wintry glow, making it feel colder than it should in late September.
The purr of the engine grows louder, and after a few shivery breaths, the motorcycle thunders like a black stallion out of the mist at the end of the street.
I’m hoping for a bald, grizzly-bearded biker dude. Never met one I didn’t like.
He motors toward me, straddling a beast