KCBR Blog

Blurb
My life is a secret.
His life is dangerous.
We’re both stubborn, calculating, and controlling.
Mark Dixon doesn’t know what he’s getting into. He doesn’t know his games could cost us our lives. I have to do what is necessary to keep us alive, and that means guarding my heart.
But I know I’m defenseless against him, and in the end, he’ll force me to surrender.



Mark
“Everyone locked and loaded?” Liam Dempsey draws our attention. There’s a part of me that wants to slap him, but then I remember: I’m the guest. It would probably be frowned upon.
“Ready,” Jackson says and bangs the magazine into the rifle. “What’s the plan?”
“We have the location where Aaron’s being held captive. We’ll split into two teams, surround the building, and get him out. The helo will be on standby for extract. Muffin, Twilight, you guys will handle meeting with the CIA agent.” Liam lets us know how this will go down.
He’s the big cheese of our small team. Commander was fine with allowing Muff and me to go on the rescue. First, we know what the hell we’re doing; I could be the damn commander at this point. Second, if it isn’t Aaron, we have the best chance of knowing quickly. I know it is, though. The code word that the CIA agent communicated was the one we’ve used for years. She relayed his area and the best way possible to enter the compound. Of course, deciphering her instructions was difficult, and it left us to make plans for the plans.
“Let’s get this shit done and get back in one piece this time, okay Muff?” There’s no hiding the sarcasm in my voice.
“Fuck off, Dixon.”
“So touchy.” I grin and double-check my gear. As funny as it is, it’s also not funny at all. Jackson Cole was once the leader of our SEAL team when the mission we were tasked with went really wrong. We lost three teammates that day, and all of us suffered injuries both mental and physical. Then we sent Aaron to deal with a lost shipment of weapons and he was killed. Well, possibly not, but still. Each time one of our asses touches down in this fucking place, someone ends up shot or killed. I’d love to be able to forget, but the truth is, I never will. The guys I’ve lost reside in my heart. The memories take hold in all of us, and for some, they torment us. The wondering if we could’ve done something different, remembering their last moments—it’s a heavy burden to carry.
I’ve lost too many friends and too much blood to this hellhole.
“Okay,” Liam says through our earpieces. “Two minutes out.”
Everyone stands, heads toward the back of the plane, and readies for the ride. We’re parachuting in, and there’s a part of me that’s alive for the first time in a while. I live for this shit. The command of the sky, the adventure, the danger—I love it. It’s a part of who I am, and while I don’t regret leaving the Navy, I miss the fun. Being a SEAL was everything to me. I was damn good at it, too. While Aaron and Jackson had no problem getting out and starting Cole Security Forces, I would’ve been buried in my uniform. However, my arm had other ideas and made the choice for me.
Jackson slaps my shoulder. “Ready to be badass again?”
“I never lost it. Unlike you other pussy whipped assholes.”
“At least I get pussy, unlike some shithead who talks a lot of crap,” he mutters under his breath.
“Keep it up, fat boy. You’re starting to earn your call sign again, Muffin.” I pull my goggles down and watch for the light to turn green. There’s no hesitation as I jump out the hatch. The plane fades away as I plummet to, once again, do what I live for.
We all reach the ground safely a few miles from the IED site where this whole mess started.
Liam gives the hand commands as we split into teams of two. If I ever felt like a piece of shit before, it was nothing compared to now. Aaron is possibly still alive and nearby. We didn’t search before, partly because Muff got shot, but I never even considered coming back. They claimed there were no survivors, and we listened.
If it were me, would I be pissed? Fuck yeah, I would. We should’ve looked.
“See that, up on the building?” Dempsey’s voice cuts through the silence.
My eyes dart to where his hand is pointing. I can’t see it clearly, but hanging from the antenna is a red scarf, the go-ahead signal from our contact.
“Charlie better not be fucking us around,” I grumble. I’ve missed the way my body feels right now. Everything inside me is awakened. My mind knows there’s danger and my muscles are tense so I do my best to relax. I can’t be on edge or someone could get hurt. I remember how it felt to lose our teammates on that mission. I remember carrying Brian, Devon, and Fernando’s bodies out. I remember watching the life fade from their eyes. Then to think of all the other drama we’ve dealt with being in the sandbox—this place gives me anxiety.
“She’s on our side. Head in the game,” Jackson snaps as he creeps forward. He’s in the zone. I need to get there before we kick in the door.
As we approach the entrance, Liam comes through with the green light. “Petunia.” His tone is clear. This time we’re using flowers for code names. I liked it better when we used liquor or tobacco . . . more manly. Shows just how much the Navy is breeding pussies now.
Jackson braces his hand against the door, ready to push through, but someone pulls it open first. All of our guns raise, and my gaze locks on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.
The woman’s hands slowly raise, and she casually removes the hijab that covers her mouth and hair. “Check out the garden, boys. Petunia.” Her accent is clearly American. “He’s down the hall and knows you’re coming. There are three on guard by his cell. The others are out doing errands. I’m leaving with you, so don’t fuck this up.”
I stand there, staring, unable to form a fucking coherent thought. This is the CIA op? This five-foot-four, drop-dead gorgeous woman? No wonder she gets information. I’d sell my soul if she asked. Her hair is almost black and hangs straight, her eyes are ice blue, and don’t get me started on what I imagine her plump lips doing. I’ve never seen anyone like her. I’ve never reacted to anyone like this before. I want her—any man would—but I want to own her. Every part of my body, especially one in particular, yearns for her. I want to see if her skin is as soft as it looks, if her hair feels like silk, and her voice—I’m done for.
Jackson lowers his gun and then addresses her. “Which door, Charlie?”
“Second on the left. I need a gun.” She puts her hand out.
The need to protect her calls from deep within. “Maybe you should stay out here.”
“And watch you guys get lost? I don’t think so. Gun. Now.” She doesn’t look my way when she replies. She just waits for Jackson to hand her his pistol.
I don’t like this. She may be trained by the CIA, but that’s not saying she can handle combat. “Are you sure you know how to use it, princess?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine and narrow. Oh, that got her attention. A storm’s raging in those baby blues. She recovers quickly, though, when Jackson places his nine mil in her delicate palm. “Thanks. I’ll let that slide since you obviously aren’t aware of who I am,” she says without taking her eyes off me. “We don’t have a lot of time. Where’s the rest of your team?”
“We are the team,” I reply. Who is this girl? Maybe the CIA needs ten people, but Jackson, Liam, and I could handle this entire thing on our own—the six-guy team we brought is more than enough.
Jackson smirks. “They’re approaching from a different entrance. Let’s go.”
“I’ll lead,” Charlie says and lifts the hijab over her hair.
“We know what we’re doing.” I speak just so she’ll look at me again.
“Wouldn’t want you to get lost or hurt. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. My cock hardens. It fucking hardens on a goddamn mission. I am so fucked.
She opens the door and I push Muffin out of the way. No way is he going to be behind her. Charlie turns to relay a message, and notices he’s not the one following. Her eyes roll, she holds up two fingers, and then she points to the room. The way her ass sways is hypnotic. I lock down the sexual urges flowing through me and focus. The two men trailing me let off two silent shots and then return to following us. We slink through the dirty hallway and come face to face with another guard.
I don’t have a moment to take the sight. Charlie doesn’t hesitate. No more than a breath passes before she raises the nine and shoots him in the head.
I’m in love. It’s official. I’m going to blow my fucking load right here.
This woman is going to be mine.
She turns her head to face me and lifts her lips. The words that come from her mouth go straight to my groin. “Don’t be afraid to pull the trigger next time, princess.” Charlie’s eyes glimmer, and I know right then that this woman will not be owned, but she sure as shit will own me.

Blurb
He was someone who belonged in my wildest fantasies instead of a rest stop in the middle of Nebraska.

A sexy, cocky, Australian named Chance was the last person I expected to run into on my cross-country drive.

When my car broke down, we made a deal. Next thing I knew, we were traveling together, spending sexually-tense nights in hotels and taking unplanned detours.

My ordinary road trip turned into the adventure of a lifetime. It was all fun and games until things got intense.

I wanted him, but Chance wouldn’t make a move. I thought he wanted me too, but something was holding him back.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for the cocky bastard, especially when I knew we’d be going our separate ways.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

I wondered if the vibration would feel good between my legs.
The sun caught the chrome of a Harley Davidson parked a few spots over, gleaming in the sweltering midday sun.  I waited until Maroon Five finished playing on the radio, oddly fixated on the two-wheeled-man-toy as I fished in my purse for my cell phone.  The motorcycle was simple—high gloss black and shiny silver, worn leather saddlebags with a skull embossed below the initials C.B.  
How good would it feel to ride?  Wind blowing through my long hair, arms wrapped around a man with a tough sounding nickname, engine purring beneath my jean clad thighs.  Horse?  Drifter?  Guns?  Wait.  No.  Pres.  My imaginary biker was most definitely called Pres.  And he’d look just like Charlie Hunnam. 
I glanced down at my iPhone and found a half dozen new messages from Harrison.  Inwardly, I smirked.  Certainly, there is no one named Harrison that ever rode a Harley. Tossing my phone back in my bag, I cut the engine of my packed BMW and glanced behind me into the backseat.  Boxes piled to the ceiling were beginning to make my full-size car feel claustrophobic.  
A bus full of travelers pulled into the rest stop. Great. I’d better go in now and get my lunch, otherwise I’d never get out of here. Ten hours into a cross-country trip from Chicago to Temecula, California, I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska with about another twenty some odd hours to go.
After a fifteen-minute wait inside for Pepsi and Popeyes fried chicken bites that I planned to eat back in the car, I stopped into the small souvenir shop.  I was so tired and didn’t really feel like driving the additional five hours I had to go before finding a place to sleep for the night. Yawning, I decided to stall and browse for a few minutes.  Checking out some trinkets, I eventually picked up a Barack Obama bobblehead and shook it mindlessly, watching its maniacal smile as the head bounced up and down.  
“Get it. You know you want it,” a deep, raspy voice said from behind my shoulders. Startling me, it caused a knee-jerk reaction that resulted in the bobblehead slipping from my fingers and falling to the ground. The head broke off of the spring neck and rolled away. 
The woman at the register shouted, “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to pay for that. Twenty dollars.”
“Damn it!” I spewed, following the path of the rolling head. As I bent down to pick it up, there was the voice again from behind me.
“And to think, some people say he’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He seemed to have an Australian accent.
“You think this is funny, asshole?” I asked before turning around and getting my first look at the man behind the voice.
I froze. 
Oh. Shit.    
“You don’t need to be a fucking bitch about it.” His mouth curved into a wicked grin as he handed me the bottom half of Obama. “And for the record, I did think that was really funny, yes.” 
I swallowed and seemed to lose my ability to speak as I took in the Adonis standing before me. I wanted to smack that cocky smile right off his face, though—his gorgeous, chiseled, scruffy face, framed by a thick head of copper-brown hair. Fuck me. This man was insanely hot, not someone I expected to come across out here. This was the middle of nowhere USA, not the Australian outback for Christ’s sake.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I didn’t think it was funny at all.”
“Then, you need to take the stick out of your arse and lighten up.” He reached out his hand. “Give it to me, Princess. I’ll pay for the damn thing.” Before I could respond, he grabbed the two broken pieces from me, and I cursed at the shiver that ran down my spine from the brief contact of his hand brushing against mine. Of course, he had to smell amazing on top of it all. 
I followed him to the register as I fished through my messy purse for money, but he was too quick and had paid for it already. 
He handed me a plastic bag containing the broken bobblehead. “There’s some change in the bag. Buy yourself a sense of humor.”
HUE-MA. That accent.  
My jaw dropped as he walked away and out of the store. 
What an ass. 
It was. A fine one. A thick, juicy, round ass hugged tightly by his jeans. God, I really needed to get laid, because it didn’t seem to matter that this guy had just insulted me to my face; my panties were practically wet. 
After several minutes of staring into space at a shelf of Nebraska Cornhuskers t-shirts, I gave myself a mental kick in the butt. My reaction to the incident proved that fatigue had gotten the best of me; I wasn’t usually that short-tempered. It was time to shake off the bizarre encounter and get moving. My stomach was growling, and I was looking forward to breaking into the fried chicken once I hit the road. I snuck a piece out of the box in my bag as I walked out of the building. My chewing ceased when I noticed him two spots down from my car—sitting on the very motorcycle I’d been fantasizing about earlier. 
Approaching slowly, I hoped he didn’t notice me. No such luck. Instead, when he spotted me, he flashed an exaggerated smile and waved.
Frantically searching for my keys, I rolled my eyes and muttered, “You again.”
He snickered. “Did you end up buying a sense of humor?”
“I used the change to buy you some couth instead.”
Chuckling, he shook his head at me.  Running his hand through his hair, he put his shiny black helmet on and cranked the Harley. The rumble shook me to my core.   
Getting in the car and slamming the door, I couldn’t help taking one last look over at him, seeing as though I’d never see this guy again in my lifetime. He winked through the helmet, and my pathetic heart fluttered.
I watched through the rear view mirror as he backed out of the spot. I expected him to take off like a bat out of hell, but after moving away slowly, he abruptly stopped. He kept trying to rev the bike to get it to move, but nothing was happening. Eventually turning off the engine, he removed his helmet and ran his hand through his hair in frustration before getting off to inspect things. I should have just left, but couldn’t take my eyes off him as he struggled to get it to run.  Man, that sucks. 
I dipped one of the chicken bites into the honey mustard sauce and popped it into my mouth, continuing to watch this like a spectator sport for several minutes. At one point, he took out his phone and made a phone call as he paced back and forth. 
Putting his phone away, he looked in my direction and glared at me. Caught in the act of watching him, I let out a nervous laugh. I didn’t mean to laugh at the situation, but it just came out. He raised his brow, and that made me cackle harder. He slowly walked toward me, clutching the helmet by his side. He knocked on my window, and I lowered it. 
“You think this is funny, Princess?”
“Not really…maybe.” I snorted. 
“Well, I’m glad you finally managed to find your sense of humor.” 
HUE-MA.
God, his accent was sexy.
He arched his neck to look into the backseat and took notice of all the boxes. “You homeless or something? Living out of your car?”
“No. I’m in the middle of a cross-country move.”
“Where you headed?”
“Temecula.”
“California.” He nodded. “Me, too.”
I looked toward his Harley. “Well, it looks like you’re not exactly headed anywhere anytime soon. I guess it’s payback for calling me a bitch.”
“Well, that would seem to be the case.”
“That it’s payback?”
“No, that you’re a bitch.” 
“Very funny.”
“You know what’s even better than payback?” he asked leaning into the window, his cologne intoxicating me.
“What?”
He wiggled his brows. “Karma.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come around and have a look at the back of your Beemer.” 
BEE-MA.
I got out and walked around to the back of my car to find my right rear tire was completely flat. 
What? This cannot be happening.
With my hand on my forehead, I looked over at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? Did you know my tire was flat all this time?”
“I noticed it right around the time I caught you popping chicken and laughing at me, yes. It was real hard for me to keep a straight face at that point.”
I didn’t know how to change a tire to save my life. I couldn’t believe what I was about to ask of him.
“Do you know how to change a tire?”
“Of course I do. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t know how to change a tire?”
“Will you help me? I know you have no reason to want to…after our little altercation, but I’m seriously desperate. I don’t want to be stuck out here all alone at night.”
“Let me ask you a question.”
“Okay…”
He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “How badly do you want your tire changed?”
I backed away from him. “What exactly are you getting at?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart. I’m not fucking propositioning you if that’s what you think. You’re not my type.”
“And what exactly is your type?”
“I typically go for women who don’t have the personality of a door knob.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“So, what are your conditions?”
“Well, as you clearly know from your laughing fit, my Harley is experiencing a technical malfunction at the moment. It needs a part that I don’t have. I just called a tow company. But I’m on a deadline, and like you, I need to get to California.”
“You’re not suggesting…”
“Yes. Yes, I am. If I change your tire, you let me ride with you.”
“Ride with me?”
“Ride me, yes.”
“What did you just say?”
“You’re hearing things.”
I shook my head to rid the images now flashing through it. Did my tired mind only imagine that he just said that, or was he messing with me?  
“I cannot drive hundreds of miles with a total stranger,” I said.
“It’s a fuck of a lot safer than driving alone.”
“Not if you’re a serial killer!”
“Look who’s talking. You’re the one who decapitated a U.S. president.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This situation was seriously insane.
“Holy shit, Princess, is that a laugh at your own expense, I see?” 
“I think you’re making me delirious.”
He stuck out his hand. “So, you in?”
I crossed my arms instead of taking it. “What choice do I have?”
“Well, you could always have him change your tire.” He gestured to a large and scary-looking man who seemed to be watching us. This guy looked like Herman Munster in the flesh.
Letting out a deep breath, I conceded. “I’m in. I’m in! Just get me out of here.”
“I thought you might say that. Please tell me you have a spare.”
“Yeah. But I have to move some of my boxes so you can get to it.”
He started to crack up when he got a load of the situation inside my trunk. “Damn, what the hell is all this crap?”
I looked into his eyes and answered honestly, “My entire life.”
I temporarily piled the contents of the trunk onto the pavement. He got the spare out and immediately got to work. 
As he was changing the tire, his white t-shirt rode up, exposing his tanned, rock-hard abs and a thin trail of hair that ran into his underwear line. Unwanted tension built between my legs. I needed a distraction, so I walked over to his bike and sat on it, gripping the handles and imagining what it would be like to ride in the wind. But all I could envision now was him in front of me, and that wasn’t helping. 
He slid his body from under my car. “Be careful, little girl. That’s not a toy.”
I hopped off and ran my finger along the letters emblazoned on the saddlebags. “What’s C.B. stand for anyway?”
“Those are my initials.”
“Let me guess…Cocky Bastard?”
“See…I would have told you my name, but since you’re so clever, I think I’ll just let you guess.”
“Whatever, Cocky.”
He lay back down on the ground. “I’m just tightening up these nuts, and we’ll be ready to go.”
“Nuts?”
“Lug nuts…on the wheel, dirty girl.”
“Oh.”
Hopping up, he lifted his shirt and used it to wipe his forehead. “All set.”
Damn.
“That was quick. Are you sure it’s on right?”
“I’ve got a few screws loose, darling, as you’ll soon find out, but none of them are on your wheel.” He winked and for the first time, I noticed his dimples. “We should probably stop tomorrow and get a new tire put on. This spare is really not meant for long term use.”
Tomorrow. Wow. This was really happening.
“We should get going,” I said. “I’ll drive. I need to be in control of this situation.”
“Whatever you want,” he said.
I could feel the tension in my neck as I backed out of the spot. This was going to be very interesting to say the least. He wasted no time digging into my chicken bites.
I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey, lay off my food.”
“Honey mustard? I prefer barbecue.” He licked his thumb, and I swore at myself for getting turned on a little. This was going to be a long ride. 
He smirked and lifted the plastic bag from the souvenir shop. “Did you even open it?”
“No. What’s the point? It’s just a broken bobblehead.”
Handing it to me, he said, “Is it?”
With one hand on the steering wheel, I took out the bobblehead which was…in one piece.
“What the…how did you?”
“You seemed to like it, so I paid for the other and bought you a different one. You were too busy looking through your purse to notice.” 
I couldn’t help but smile and shook my head.
“Well, whaddya know. A genuine smile.” He held out his hand. “Here…gimme.” When, I handed it to him, he took an adhesive strip off the bottom and stuck it to the dash. Obama’s head was now bopping up and down with every movement of the car.
I broke out in laughter at the ridiculousness but also couldn’t help the warm feeling that came over me with that sweet gesture. Maybe he wasn’t really a bastard at all. 
We were quiet for a while as he lay his head back and shut his eyes. Somewhere along I-76 after the sun set into a bright orange glow that illuminated the horizon in the distance, he turned to me.  
His voice was groggy. “I’m Chance.”
After several seconds of silence, I said, “Aubrey.”
“Aubrey,” he repeated in a breathy whisper, seeming to contemplate my name before closing his eyes again and turning his head away.  

Chance.

About the Authors:

Vi Keeland
Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is a bookworm and has been known to read her kindle at stop lights, while styling her hair, cleaning, walking, during sporting events, and frequently while pretending to work.  She is a boring attorney by day, and an exciting smut author by night!
 Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)
Beat
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1MWanfu
Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/1fczMX5
iBooks: http://apple.co/1DnI6f6
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1aqrmbS
B&N:  http://bit.ly/1O1Ah0q

Throb 
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1BgqIUD
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1CsRg9d
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zk882K
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1x5c3P8

Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1slglLN

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)
Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1xC6epE
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1alpVES
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1dbzZ8R
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1is0zNX
iBooks: http://bit.ly/1co2ZpF

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1xC71aa
B&N: http://bit.ly/1gwTyJw
iBooks:  http://bit.ly/1gHMCZg
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1fqQcnj
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/NU2rCR

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1wbsJEK
B & N: http://bit.ly/1ljdVzb
iBooks:  http://bit.ly/XBTLFX
Kobo:  http://bit.ly/1kWP4ka

The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1fr26W2
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KRsCVy
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/belong-to-you-vi-keeland/1114962845
IBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/belong-to-you/id639401754
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you

Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1Mi0AzQ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KRsdCx
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/made-for-you-vi-keeland/1115883225
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/made-for-you/id84550637
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/belong-to-you


Standalone novels
Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)
Amazon US:http://amzn.to/1G9HdDK
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Rmi3xp 
First Thing I See
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1fr3dF7
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1RmihEP
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1JWFo21

Meet Penelope Ward

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 10-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.
       
Stalk Her: Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads


Other books from Penelope Ward
Stepbrother Dearest
Amazon  http://amzn.to/1mFNMeg 
B&N: http://bit.ly/1taMFjG
ITunes: http://bit.ly/YER0mT
kobo: http://bit.ly/1fJaaBs


Gemini
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1vgk1SE
B&N: http://bit.ly/1KfmLHD
iTunes: http://apple.co/1QTaONj
kobo: http://bit.ly/1BGJ2wu

Jake Undone (Jake #1)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1dJrHBC
B&N: http://bit.ly/1obAwJ6
iTunes: http://apple.co/1fJayQ8
kobo: http://bit.ly/1SPKl0M

My Skylar
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1obOG2F
B&N: http://bit.ly/SLO1qi
iTunes: http://bit.ly/SLNOTR
kobo: http://bit.ly/1kNrtAB

Jake Understood (Jake #2)
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1GFdves
B&N: http://bit.ly/1FwJC0z
iTunes: http://apple.co/1DQQwgC
kobo: http://bit.ly/1LQ7Fvk

March 3, 2015 - Mark your calender for release of The 27 Club by Kim Karr. Look for my review.  I loved this book.  By the way this is a standalone/no cliffhanger!  Check out two excerpts below.


Here's a sneak peek...
THE 27 CLUB has two excerpts available to read:
✦ Part I - http://bit.ly/1ziXFiK
✦ Part II - http://bit.ly/1EOMSjE
Watch the trailer here ➜  https://vimeo.com/109601829

WHAT TO EXPECT:

THE 27 CLUB is my first stand alone since the CONNECTIONS SERIES. It is an emotional contemporary romance about living life to its fullest! 

Zoey Flowers always counted on her older brother Zachary to show her the wild side of life. She was the good girl and followed the rules that Zachary loved to break. They seemed to be opposites in every way. But when Zachary dies at he age of 27, like so many of his ancestors before him, the driving force behind Zoey’s control leaves her.

Nate Hanson is by cliché tall, dark, and handsome. From the moment Zoey lays eyes on her brother’s best friend, she is magnetically drawn to him. Stumbling from his bed in a mass of confusion, she feels like she knows him. And even if it’s only through her brother’s eyes—she doesn’t care.

When Zoey discovers her brother wasn’t who he seemed to be, she wants Nate to help her discover the truth. While endeavoring to learn the reasons behind her brother’s lies and fighting against what she believes to be her destiny, Zoey discovers something about herself—her own sensuality. She wants to explore her deepest, darkest desires and with no one other than the man who unlocked them—Nate Hanson.

Nate feels conflicted, yet is drawn into Zoey’s world of obsession over destiny. And in the process he not only agrees to help her uncover the truths behind her brother’s life but to explore the sensuality he has drawn to the surface. 

Together in the quest for the truth they explore a side of life Zoey never knew existed. 

Her brother might be her reason for staying in Miami but Nate consumes Zoey’s thoughts and his touch controls her.

Zoey has opened Nate’s closed heart and together a love rises that neither was expecting.

What began as a journey to uncover one man’s life turns into a discovery about themselves.

But can they embrace this new destiny or will fear and guarded apprehension win out in the end?

The 27 Club will release on March 3rd and is available for pre-order:

Amz ➜ http://amzn.to/1xeQNTt
B&N ➜ http://bit.ly/1xEtgLx
iTunes ➜ http://bit.ly/1rB4587

#PreOrderNow #StandAlone #The27Club