Friday 17 October 2014

@Stacy_Gail_



Miranda Brookhaven returned to Bitterthorn, Texas to fix the past. Years ago, her father used her teenage romance with Coe Rodas to steal the prototype for a groundbreaking new automotive invention. Now her father's dead, and thanks to the convoluted will he left behind, she's stuck in town until she rights the wrong that lost her the man she loved.
Coe learned early on that life never goes according to plan. His dreams of hitting it big vanished when Miranda all but invited her father to take the only thing of value he ever had. But now the once-pampered princess is holed up in a condemned trailer on the edge of town...and everything he thought he knew about her—and about what happened between them back then—seems completely wrong.
Miranda's determined to give back to Coe all that he lost. If she can do that, maybe she can move on from the past. But Coe seems to be more interested in their rekindled passion than claiming what she thinks he deserves. She's got sixty days to convince him to cough up evidence that he's the original inventor—after that, the only way to transfer the patent rights over to him would be to make him part of the family, and she's not sure her heart can take another hit.





Pre-Order Links:





“Promise…fulfilled.” Her breath tried to gush out all at once at the intimate massage, but she wasn’t going to let him divert her quite yet. It took most of her concentration not to surge against his touch, but it helped to focus on upending the chocolate and scrawling a haphazard heart on the smooth, muscle-padded wall of his chest. Part of her thrilled at the catch of his breath when her tongue followed the path of sweetness, while her brain desperately worked overtime to shut out how her forward-leaning position pushed her against his working hand. That pressure was so intense it made her close her eyes at the excruciating delight. It didn’t help that his penis, semi-hard when she’d first positioned herself over him, was now fully erect and inches away from her entrance. If she lifted her hips up, just a little, she could easily impale herself on him…
As if he’d read her mind, Coe threw out a hand toward the nightstand. The alarm clock crashed to the floor as he jerked the drawer open, fumbled out a condom and got it in place. The idea of taking her time and covering him with chocolate scrawls faded under an edgy urgency to melt her body around his. She had to have him where he belonged. And he belonged buried inside her so deeply that for a few fleeting moments they were one.
She wasn’t finished erasing the chocolate from his skin when he pushed his hips upward, the tip of his staff sliding against her folds now swollen and pulsing with a need only he inspired. She braced her hands on his shoulders and looked to him in surprise at how marble-hard his muscles were.
“Coe, easy…”
“I can’t.” It sounded like an apology, the words pushed through the barrier of clenched teeth, and he looked tortured, almost broken, but thrilled to be that way. “I need you, Miranda. I need you, I need you, please take me in, just take me, I’ll do anything to be inside you, babe, please…”
He’d lost it.
Her heart went wild as the realization struck. Coe never lost control. He never moved unless he was ready to, and never once in all the time they had known each other had he ever begged for anything. For such a strong, self-reliant man to beg for her to take him was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever done.





A competitive figure skater from the age of eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.




a Rafflecopter giveaway

1 comment:

  1. Thanks so much for letting me pop onto your blog today! :)

    ReplyDelete