Here’s a sneak peek at Kacey Hammell’s Prank Me…

PRANK ME
Kacey Hammell
Contemporary Erotica
Quickie Short Story
ISBN # 9781419945007
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

From zero to sixty … no amount of braking will stop this crash course with love.

Race car driver Lark Stevens agrees to help a close friend prove that paybacks can be a bitch. But what she doesn’t expect is to fall in lust with her mark. Or is he who she thinks he is?

Set on her mission, Lark assumes the mystery man who amps up the heat and pushes her heart into overdrive is her intended target. And once they connect, getting even is the last thing on her mind.

As the heat smolders and revs from zero to sixty in mere seconds, Lark realizes she’s on a crash course with love that no amount of braking will stop.

Inside Scoop:  No holds barred sexual teasing, dances meant to titillate and push you over the edge, and M/F love scenes to get engines revving.

Buying Links:
Book Page
 Ellora’s Cave Amazon — US / Canada / UKB&N
Kobo
aRe

Prank Me Excerpt © Kacey Hammell

A Romantica® erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Lark grinned. So the studmuffin wasn’t used to women who dressed like her. Good. Made it all the more fun to entice them.

“I’m sorry, am I in the wrong office?”

“You’re here to see Bobby, correct?” She knew he was, but didn’t want to give the game away.

“Yes I am.”

“Then you’re in the right place.” She drew open the sides of the belt keeping her jacket closed. Working it apart in deliberate slow motion to heighten anticipation, she again instructed, “Have a seat. I don’t bite.” She smirked. “Unless you ask me to.”

He watched her, eyes bulging as she pushed the material off her shoulders and laid it over Bobby’s desk.

Shock and uncertainty flooded his eyes but was quickly replaced with interest and heat as he took in her scantily clad body.

Good. She liked his full attention on her.

“I’m not sure what’s going on here. Are you Bobby’s secretary?” She opened her mouth to speak but he raised a hand and ushered her to hush. “I’ve never seen a secretary look like you.”

She laughed, ignoring his question about her identity, and winked at him as he sat in the chair in front of Bobby’s desk. “Oh this old thing?” She gestured to her red silk croptop, her black lace bra showing through, and her crimson leather skirt, which was so short her panties would surely show if she bent over. “Just something I threw on this morning.” She moved in front of him and leaned her ass on the desk.

He grinned and stared up at her. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh honey.” She retrieved her cell phone. “Ask not what you can do for me.” She pressed the music button and selected her dance playlist. “But what I can do for you.”

Strains of a bass guitar filled the room and vibrated to her soul, begging her to succumb to the seductive rhythm.

Avid Reader. Romance Author. Redhead…

Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters.  These days, as a multi-published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres she writes.

A mom of three, Kacey has made certain each of her children know the value of the written word and the adventures they could escape on by becoming book-a-holics in their own right. She lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada, and is a true romantic at heart.

Connect with Kacey…

Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest / Instagram / Triberr

When deciding what to write next, I consult one of my many voices to see who has the most to say and is the loudest in my head. Once I have that character, I have them gather the rest of the cast and crew together and then my kick ass hero(s) have to whoop some ass to get the rest of the voices to settle down and wait their turn. If he didn’t ride herd on them, I’d never be able to hear my hero and the others tell me what to write.

Lately the voices have been pulling me in a different direction that has me a little worried. I love writing just about any subject except pure inspirational or what some call chick lit. I’m also not very good at young adult. Just about anything else is fair game. The problem I’m finding with the way the characters have me leaning is that some of it is much darker than what I’m writing right now. All of my books have, had, and always will have happy endings, but some of these stories follow hard journeys to get them where they need to be.

I can’t help but wonder what readers think about books like this. Do they like them or hate them. Do they enjoy one every once in a while, but prefer the lighter ones? I think that there is a group of readers who enjoy them from the huge amount of biker and cage fighting books I’m seeing rise to the top of the top seller lists, but is it something I want to write?

What are your favorite type of books, the light hearted ones, the ones with a little suspense or angst written in, or the ones where the characters are tortured and look as if they will never be able to get together but finally do? It takes all kinds of writers to meet the needs of readers out there, but it takes all types of readers to support some of the niche writers too. How far from your favorite type of book do you explore when looking for something different? Will you go out of your normal comfort zone to try something or do you stick with what you like and that’s it?

I look at it like a favorite restaurant. Do you try different dishes all the time or do you get the same exact one every time you eat there? Maybe you choose something different every third time you go, or maybe you try something from someone else’s plate to see if you might like to try it for yourself. I think readers do that, too. When they want to try something new but don’t want to buy it in case they didn’t like it, they sometimes borrow a friend’s book or browse the Amazon free books to see what is out there.

When the voices tell me to write, I write. But sometimes, what I write ends up sitting on a jump drive until I have the courage to bring it out and find a place it will fit. Sometimes, it never sees the light of day. If I try to ignore the strongest voices in my head to strain to hear the ones I want to listen to, they wait for me to fall asleep and torture me in my dreams. Sometimes, they just keep me awake and wear me down until I give in and write their story.

Regardless of who wins or cheats to be heard, I have to write. I have to get them out of my head and onto the paper. Going more than a couple of days without doing that will have me climbing the walls and banging my head against them in an effort to shut those pesky characters up long enough for me to get back to the computer. Writing for me is like good drugs for someone with a personality disorder. They help me tell the difference between the ones to listen to and the ones to ignore.

www.marlamonroe.com
Follow her on Twitter   @MarlaMonroe1
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You can find her books at http://www.bookstrand.com/marla-monroe
Or at Amazon    http://amzn.to/1o3gqq6

One of my earliest memories is of a plane ride. I remember being very small, looking out the windows into bright sunlight on the way to Jamaica. My family is Jamaican, and so I was well into adulthood before I realized how different that travel memory was from those of my friends who’ve been to the island. They described a kind of party atmosphere on the plane and at the airport, a merriment rising from lots of honeymooners and tourists getting ready to start an island adventure. When I finally flew into Montego Bay, I understood what they were talking about.

All this time I’d been flying into Kingston. For my family, there was still the experience of joy, but without all the fanfare that goes with Montego Bay. Traveling into Kingston means you’re traveling like the locals.

Even without the luxury, though, I love vacationing in Jamaica’s local authenticity for a few great reasons.

1. The food’s fantastic. I’ve never been to one of those all-inclusive resorts, so I can’t speak to what the food there is like. I can tell you, however, that the meals I’ve had in some of the island’s roadside stops are some of the best I’ve ever eaten. Delicious doesn’t begin to describe the freshness of ingredients that were literally growing on trees earlier that day. Breadfruit roasted in its husk. A mango’s slippery golden flesh. Fluffy yellow ackee, mixed with slivers of saltfish and rich green callaloo. I could write about it all day if it weren’t already making me hungry.

2. The scenery’s breathtaking. On my last trip, my family took a day trip to the riverside. We spent an afternoon wading in cool water so clear I could see the tiny stones of the riverbed, and we watched a little group of elderly gentlemen playing dominoes on a tree stump. Later that week, I watched waves crashing against rocky cliffs at my uncle’s place, where the sea was a dark sapphire blue. And one night, from the hilltop near yet another uncle’s home, I looked over the water at Cuba’s city lights, as they flickered out in one of the neighboring island’s frequent blackouts.

3. Diversity. Remember the Volkswagen ad from a couple of Super Bowls ago? The one with the white guy speaking to his coworkers in the Jamaican accent? I remember shaking my head over the controversy that briefly surrounded that ad. So many people took offense at the idea that a white person would dare to take up a Jamaican accent, when the reality is that the island is home to many, many white Jamaicans. The island’s motto — out of many, one people — is very much alive on Jamaica. Jamaicans from Great Britain, India, China, and locations all over the world have contributed to the island’s inimitable mix of cultures for hundreds of years.

I’ve been fortunate to see the Jamaica that lies outside the resorts, and I’m hoping to share a little peek at it with Turnabout Day. In just a few pages, you’ll get to visit a sugarcane estate, have a taste of Jamaican cuisine, and meet a hot Scot who left Jamaica after a period of indentured servitude. The story might be set in a Jamaica that never was, but I think it’s true to a Jamaica that’s very real and not so far away.

In the story, sugarcane heiress Chloe Newton said goodbye to indentured servant Peter Darrow with her first kiss, on a hillside one long-ago summer night as mechanized cane cutters worked the fields below them. Now Peter’s returned, no longer a boy and no one’s servant, to take charge of the fleet of machines that work Chloe’s estate. On Turnabout Day, Chloe takes on the uniform and duties of a maid, and she seeks the courage to offer Peter more than a celebratory drink. By giving in to his commands, she’ll surrender to his need and become mistress of her own desire.

Here’s just a touch of the action:

 “Listen to me, Chloe,” he whispered before releasing her hand. “I won’t be like those rich boys you’re used to. I won’t treat you as if you’re made of glass.”

His promise, his desire-laden voice, made all her empty places ache, and she sighed. He slid his hands down her bare arms.

“Tonight, you must do as I say, love. You must do anything I say. Is that what you want, Chloe?”

She flattened her hand against his chest. “What do you think?”

He leaned down toward her, moving with a torturous slowness, and she pressed her lips to his. Her skin burned where it met his. The smooth, soft surface of his generous mouth teased her. Need erupted in her, and she fought the desire to wrap her arms around him.

He pulled away from her. “Chloe, kiss me. Kiss me.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him hard, the way she’d wanted other men to kiss her. She locked her mouth to his, but she’d only begun to ease his mouth open when he parted his lips for her. Then he took control, his tongue eagerly taking possession of her mouth.

Oh, yes. Yes!

Turnabout Day arrives at Musa Publishing today; pick it up for a short trip into Jamaica’s alternate history! And be sure to catch up with me on Facebook, on my website, or on Lady Smut every Sunday morning. I’d love to hear from you!

The buy link:
http://musapublishing.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=808
My Facebook page: www.facebook.com/alexajday
The website: www.alexajday.com
Lady Smut: www.ladysmut.com

Brought to His Knees

Available for a Limited Time for $0.99! Don’t miss out on this AMAZING Boxed-Set from some of your favorite erotic authors. That’s 11 stories…in one book…from sweet to sizzling and everywhere in between!!!

The Alpha male. Strong. In control. Letting no one and nothing rule him…until he meets the one, and all bets are off. The world tilts, the bed rocks, and suddenly that tough guy finds himself Brought to His Knees—in more ways than one.

This collection of ten hot to erotic novellas and one short erotic novel will take you on journeys of lust, love, and adventure, leave you breathless and quite possibly in need of a cold shower.

Enter with anticipation. Finish satisfied…

Amazon | B&N | ITunes | Goodreads

Beneath the Pages
Jennifer Kacey

One wicked night with her did nothing but whet his appetite. Now he’ll settle for nothing less than her complete submission.

Acacia owns and runs Fame, one of the hottest celebrity magazines in the country. She survives on convincing the rich and famous to reveal things they would normally do anything to keep hidden. She lives, eats and breathes the magazine. Day in and day out. She has no life, nothing to keep in the dark. Nothing but the night she gave herself over to the one man she never should have wanted.

Radigan, the most sought after actor in Hollywood, wants her again, and won’t take no for an answer. He had her for one night. Several hours of the best sex of his entire life, but she was gone the next morning before the sun had fully risen. His attempts to contact her have gone unanswered. Everything he’s tried so far has been a miserable failure. But he finally knows what to do to slip beneath the pages of her heart.

This time he’s playing for keeps and the exclusive rights to her body, heart and soul.

Jennifer Kacey is a wife, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – http://www.jenniferkacey.com/
Blog – The Decadent Divas – http://www.thedecadentdivas.blogspot.com/
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7
Facebook Author Page – https://www.facebook.com/jenniferkaceyauthor
Twitter – https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey
Amazon Page – http://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Kacey/e/B00GXHUB30/ref=s9_simh_gw_p351_d9_al1?_encoding=UTF8&refinementId=618073011&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0G8ZPDQJVKJPKXNBRY10&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1688200382&pf_rd_i=507846
Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey
Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/

Other stories in the collection… 

Whipped
Sabrina York – NY Times and USA Today Best Selling Author
A scalding attraction. An irresistible passion. A pity she’s the one woman he can never have…

Make Me Surrender
Tina Donahue
When it comes to two of the hottest guys in town, she has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts.

A Cowboy’s Seduction
Cynthia D’Alba
One exhausted cowboy + One uptight account x A tropical resort = A hot seduction. But who is seducing whom?

Dark Wolf Enterprises
A.M. Griffin
Murder, mayhem and imprinting with a hot wolf shifter… And they say being an accountant is boring.

Building Bridges
Amy Ruttan
A vet tech and a lone wolf rancher ride out a sudden storm, but can they weather the emotions they stir up in each other…

Three Strikes
Anya RichardsTwo lonely men. One secret affair. Irresistible passion that will push them both to the breaking point, and beyond.

Born to Sin
Danica Avet
A tomboy in love makes a desperate attempt to seduce her best friend and succeeds beyond her wildest dreams. But this Alpha male isn’t easily tamed and has secrets that could very well tear them apart.

The Sound of Your Name
Felice Fox
Their silent erotic encounters change his luck and awaken his soul, but secrets and cowboy superstitions can only keep them apart.

Cruising for Love
Lynne Silver
A vacation cruise comes with surprises—like the BDSM theme and her high school love, the one man she can’t resist.

Chief Sin
Sayde Grace
A taste of Sin isn’t enough. Instead she wants all of him, including the heart she once broke.

#BTHK 11 author hot/steamy box-set availble a@B&N for pre-order. Limited time only! #Nook ow.ly/zzOwe @JenniferKacey @SabrinaYork

Who Doesn’t Want a Man Brought to His Knees by Love? Eleven Scorching Stories for 99¢

I was thrilled when my latest venture, the Hot Alpha SEALs Megaset, hit the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists and I am very excited about my next release, a collection of steamy stories about men brought to their knees by love. Check out a taste of my story, and read on for more teasers from the collection.

Brought to his Knees Box Set

The Alpha male. Strong. In control. Letting no one and nothing rule him…until he meets the one, and all bets are off. The world tilts, the bed rocks, and suddenly that tough guy finds himself Brought to His Knees—in more ways than one. This collection of ten hot to erotic novellas and one short erotic novel will take you on journeys of lust, love, and adventure, leave you breathless and quite possibly in need of a cold shower. Enter with anticipation. Finish satisfied…

Whipped
By Sabrina York

Dane Coulter is mourning the loss of his best friend, fellow Special Ops buddy, Cody. Oh, Cody didn’t die. It’s worse. He’s getting married. Cody is, in Dane’s opinion,whipped.

Dane swears he will never suffer the same fate. But when he meets a woman who can take all his dominant loving and beg for more, he realizes he may have met his match. It’s a damn shame she’s the one woman in the world his man-code deems untouchable…his best friend’s sister.

Read an Excerpt (18+ Only, Please—this is steamy stuff)

He was bigger than he’d been in high school. Bigger, taller and just…more. His muscles, lacquered by a tight black tee shirt, bulged. Tattoos danced over his biceps. The planes of his face were angled. High cheekbones, dark brows, long blade of a nose all the same, but sharper. His eyes hadn’t had those shadows back then either, that predatory glint. His hair—his thick mop of curls—was gone, shaved off, revealing the perfect shape of his head. His chin, however, wasn’t shaved. It was covered by a smattering of dark fuzz. A scar on his cheek, rather than detracting from his looks, made him even more fascinating, dangerous.

And he smelled…delicious. As he moved, his cologne, a clean enticing scent, enveloped her in a cloud.

Oh, he was dangerous all right.

She didn’t care.

The slight buzz from the margaritas at the bachelorette party, the sexual sizzle ignited by the strippers who’d burst in on their party wearing camo fatigues with rip-away crotches, all contributed to her bravado.

In real life she would never hook arms with some random guy and sashay by his side to his room. But hell. This was Dane. The man of her fantasies. And, judging from the hunger in his expression as he looked down at her, the heat that passed between them where they touched, he wanted her.

Thank God she wasn’t still the dorky teen with braces she’d been when they’d last met.

She looked amazing tonight. He happened to wander by and notice her. No one else was around. And he wanted her.

It was as though, somehow, magically, all the stars had aligned.

There was no way—no way—she would miss this opportunity.

Excitement danced low in her gut as he swiped his room key and led her into his suite. It was a nice suite—not as sumptuous as Angie’s, but nice all the same—with a small sitting area and an enormous king bed. The windows looked out on the sparkling lights of the City that Never Slept. Or one of them.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, taking off his watch and dropping it on the table by the door. It drew her attention to his forearms, thick and muscled and sprinkled with dark hairs. They were roped with thick veins. She’d always had a thing for bulky forearms. And she’d always had a thing for Dane. The combination was irresistible.

She tipped her head to the side and blew a bubble with her gum. “Margarita?”

He waved at the glossy wood armoire against the wall. “I have a mini bar. It’ll have to be shots. What’s your poison?”

“Tequila then.” Might as well keep a good thing going.

He hunkered down and searched through the fridge, pulling out a tiny bottle of tequila for her and whiskey for him. He cracked them open and dumped them unceremoniously into two glasses and handed her hers. No ice or anything.

Good thing it didn’t matter to her, or she’d be pissed at his cavalier attitude. The drink was lubricant, a time filler. They were dancing around a seduction, and they both knew it.

Or…not.

Apparently seduction was not necessary. Because Dane took a swig of his drink and said, with no preface whatsoever, “So do you have any no-nos?”

She gaped at him. “No-nos?”

“Anything you won’t do? Because I’ll be frank. I like a little kink.”

Holy God.

First of all, the heat scorching her was mind-numbing. Literally. Mind. Numbing. Those brash words from Dane’s gorgeous lips and she nearly lost her balance.

Second of all—he liked kink.

So, in fact, did she. Nothing super dark, but a little slap and tickle for sure.

“Um…” She took a sip of her drink. She shuddered as the harsh bite of liquor burned through her. It clashed with the flavor of her gum. “What kind of kink are we talking about?”

He strode to his suitcase and fished around, pulling out a long leather strap with two loops on the ends. Her eyes fixated on it. She shuddered.

“I want to tie you up,” he said, his voice low, taunting, as though he expected her to squeak like a mouse and scuttle from the room.

The. Fuck.

“Hmm. I think I can handle that.”

“I’ll probably smack your bottom.”

Also good. She tried not to flinch in anticipation. His hand on her ass? Gawd.

“I won’t hurt you, though. I’m not into that. And of course, I’ll use protection.” He held up a pack of condoms.

Well da-ham. He’d come prepared. A smile curled on her lips.

“Billy said your fee’s been paid.” His brow quirked.

The smile froze on Tina’s face. A combination of horror and rage and something else altogether snarled through her, as she realized how right she’d been. Not only did he not recognize her—after knowing her her entire life, for pity sake—he thought she was a hooker.

Granted, she did kind of look like a hooker, with makeup plastered on as if with a trowel. But still…

She glanced at him from beneath the impossibly long lashes The Master had glued to her lids. Not her style, but she liked the way they looked. The way they made her feel…like someone else. Someone sultry and daring. Someone Dane would want.

To tie up and spank.

Aside from that, the temptation to have him, taste him, fuck him, ran rampant in her. For years she’d fantasized about her older brother’s best friend. All through puberty and long after that. Every man she’d met, dated or been with had been gauged against Dane Coulter. None of them had measured up.

Ah yes, the temptation to have him was overwhelming.

Not to mention how much fun it would be watching him shit a brick tomorrow, when he realized who she really was.

Too delicious to pass up, really. The whole package.

He stood there in the middle of the room, holding the strap in one hand and the condoms in the other, waiting for her reply. Though he was all Dom, she couldn’t help but notice a hint of tension in him, as though he was, on some level, afraid she’d say no and waltz away.

He wanted her. And he wanted her bad. It was the heat in his eyes that gave him away, the way they flicked over her and burned with hunger. Yeah. Irresistible.

Sure. She could be a hooker for the evening.

*~*~*~*~*~*

What people are saying about WHIPPED:

“5 Stars—Whipped by Sabrina York was so good, LOVED all the sexy scenes and then how she mixed in some humor parts. I know she’s super busy but I’m really hoping she makes this one into a series because its that good :)”—Read More Romance Read the rest of this entry »

I recently read a book by one of my favorite paranormal romance authors. I’d loved everything else she’d published thus far and I knew this one would be no exception. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The entire tale—more than 300 pages—read like a teaser, and I sat on the edge of my seat frantically scanning the pages for the resolution. It never came. The book ended with a giant question mark requiring the reader to buy the next book. Instead of feeling excited to see how the story line would play out, I felt cheated and I had no desire to buy the second volume of the new series.

The “cliffy,” as I keep hearing it called, is a current trend in the genre. Authors seem to be so concerned with readers continuing with their series that they feel it necessary to string them along, forcing them to buy the next book to receive answers. Rather than having a beginning, middle, and end, a story will simply cut off at a suspenseful moment. In fact, it is becoming so prevalent that some book descriptions have begun leading with “This is a standalone novel with no cliffhangers.”

As a reader, I appreciate a glimpse of the direction the next book will go. If the first book has introduced me to a world I enjoy, I either “one-click” the following book or anxiously await its release date. What I don’t appreciate, however, is feeling like I don’t have a choice. I paid for a novel in its entirety. Ending a book with no resolution at all is like having a movie turned off during a climactic scene.

As an author, I begin each book with a story to tell, and I don’t type “The End” until I have finished that particular story. I owe it to my characters; I develop a relationship with each as I write. I owe it to myself to finish the vision I have, the plot that must unfold. But perhaps most of all, I owe it to the readers. They trust me when they take a chance on my book. They trust me to entertain them and tell a good (complete) story, and I feel like ending with a cliffhanger is a betrayal of that trust. Cliffhangers also feel insecure—if an author creates a world and a cast of characters that readers will enjoy, why not trust them to continue their experience?

It’s best to write what you love; that’s why I began writing in the paranormal romance genre last year. I’ve published two novels in my Phoenix Warrior series and each book does have a beginning, middle, and end. The cast of characters remains the same, but each book focuses on a different Warrior and his love interest. I write my books so that someone could pick up one anywhere in the series and it would still make sense, but each complements the others.

The Phoenix Warriors are a group of hunky immortals who are guarding the human realm from interference from otherworldly races. I chose to make my heroes Phoenix because I wanted to do something different than vampires and werewolves. I love stories about both, but I really wanted to try something more unique. These Warriors are literally hot. I hope you’ll give them a try.

You can learn more about my books at my website, www.karidaclarke.com, or at my Amazon author page, http://www.amazon.com/Karida-Clarke/e/B00INJ1T14.

Many thanks to Delilah for inviting me to share my thoughts and my books on her blog. I would love to hear from readers. How do you feel about cliffhangers? What about teasers for subsequent books after the end of the previous novel?

About the Author: Karida Clarke is a romance writer with a penchant for anything otherworldly. If it has scales, fur, poisoned talons, throws fire or casts magic spells, it might find its way into her stories. Karida likes her heroines multifaceted and her males swoon-worthy, Alpha-style. She believes that relationships matter more than things and places. In her free time, Karida enjoys lacing up for long runs and cooking ethnic cuisine. Pet peeves include Saran Wrap and people who don’t put their shopping carts away. Karida has an M.A. in English Literature, is a former college English instructor, and currently writes for a small newspaper. She lives with her nerd-tastic husband and two spunky kids in Ohio.

Website: www.karidaclarke.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/karidaclarke
Twitter: www.twitter.com/karidaclarke
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/karidaclarke

Check out this new-to-me author, Kay Harborne and her new book, The Millionaire Plan… DD

Author Blurb

Kay Harborne has written several romance stories for women’s magazines and has had two romance novels published. She has also written many children’s books under the name of Karen King. She loves reading, writing and eating chocolate.

Links
Website
Twitter: @karen_king
Amazon Author Page

* * * * *

The Millionaire Plan blurb

LOVE or MONEY? What would you marry for?

Amber Wynters is on a mission to find a millionaire to marry – and fast. Her parents are nearly bankrupt and forced to sell the family home, a beautiful Tudor house that had been in the family for generations. And it’s all thanks to Amber’s ex-fiancé Rod persuading them to invest in his dodgy shares. So armed with a ‘How to Hook a Millionaire’ Book and a ten point plan, she sets off to hook herself a rich husband. Then she meets the drop-dead gorgeous Jed Curtess. The attraction between them is sizzling but Jed is only a hired hand on one of the millionaire’s yachts. Can Amber ignore her heart and follow her plan?

Rule number 1: Make sure you’re seen at the right places.

Great. Here she was dressed to kill and without a clue what to do, Amber thought, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her dress. Everyone else was walking around in groups, or at least in pairs, chatting and laughing together making her wish she’d taken up Callie’s offer to go sailing with her and Simon instead of wandering around Coombe Bay Marina alone. Honestly, dressed in this skin-tight extremely short white designer dress, high heels and the pile of make-up Callie had insisted she wore she might well have the word “gold-digger” written on her forehead.

Well, that’s what she was, wasn’t it?

Not for the first time she wondered how she’d let Callie talk her into coming here to try and hook a millionaire. It was mad. Insane. Immoral.

And her only option if she didn’t want her parents to lose their home as well as their business.

Spotting a café overlooking the marina, she bought herself a latté and was making her way over to one of the tables with it when a white yacht caught her eye. It wasn’t huge or brash like some of the yachts in the marina, but it was definitely classy. The sort a millionaire would have for his own use to sail around in rather than show off and entertain his friends. As she peered over at it, trying to read the name painted on the side, she collided into something hard. Her coffee cup went flying off the saucer, emptying its contents over a pair of cut-off denim shorts that were hugging lean, definitely male, hips.

“Whoa!”Strong suntanned arms held her steady. “You want to try looking where you’re going,” an incredibly sexy voice drawled in a strong American accent.

“Sorry.” She looked up into a pair of twinkling tawny eyes that laughed at her from a ruggedly handsome face, topped by thick, light brown hair with sun-kissed highlights. Phwoarr! was her immediate reaction, but she quickly pulled herself together. She’d just spilt coffee over this guy, for goodness sake. The least she could do was apologise instead of drooling over him like a lunatic.

“I’m so sorry,” she stammered. “I was looking at the yacht over there. It’s fantastic, isn’t it? I’ve never seen one like it before.” Not the thing to say, Amber, she scolded herself. You’re supposed to be acting smart and sophisticated as if you come to these sort of events all the time. Not twittering away like an idiot and letting the first person you bump into know you’ve never seen anything bigger than a dinghy before. Then she remembered she had quite literally bumped into this man and drowned him in coffee in the process.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, fully aware this was the third time she’d apologised but unable to stop herself gabbling. She glanced down at his wet denim cut-offs, trying not to let her gaze linger on the sun-tanned legs below them, then shifted her eyes hurriedly back to his face. “Er, I’ll go and get a cloth so you can clean up.”

“No need. I’m working on the yacht you were admiring. So I haven’t got far to go and get changed,” he replied. “Perhaps you’d like to join me and clean yourself up too? You don’t want to leave that to stain. It’ll ruin your dress.”

What? She was horrified to see coffee splattered all over the bottom of her — or rather, Callie’s — dress and running down her legs. How could she not have noticed? Because I was too busy gawping at him, that’s why.

She hesitated. He had said he was working on the yacht. Which meant he didn’t own it — more’s the pity. So his boss could well be on board. And whilst the “How to Hook a Millionaire” book Callie had brought and insisted she read from cover to cover had declared she should “seize any opportunity to mix with the seriously rich”. And let’s face it, anyone who owned that yacht was seriously rich. Meeting him with a coffee-stained dress and legs was not a good idea. “Always be perfectly made up and elegantly dressed” was another rule of the book.

“Is your boss on board?” she asked.

“No, only me.” “Perhaps I should introduce myself and then you’d feel more at ease. I’m sure your mother drilled it into you to never go off with strangers.” He held out his hand. “Jed Curtess.”

She took his hand. It was strong and warm and his touch sent tingles running up her arm. “Amber Wynters,” she told him.

“Now we’ve been introduced, Amber Wynters, would  you like to come on board the yacht and get cleaned up?” he asked, a playful smile hovering on his lips.

She most definitely would, but should she? She didn’t even know this man, although she had to admit she definitely found him appealing. Should she risk going onto the yacht with him? He might not be as harmless as he seemed. She saw the teasing twinkle in his gorgeous tawny eyes and her heart flipped. Cancel harmless. This guy was a danger to her blood pressure if nothing else.

“I promise I won’t try to seduce you,” he said solemnly. “Unless you beg me to, of course.” His eyes danced with humour,  and she thought there was probably a queue of women who would love him to do just that.

Something about this guy made her feel she could trust him. Besides, there were lots of people around to hear her shouts if she needed help — not that she would step one foot on that yacht if she felt in any danger. And, she was supposed to be here to meet a millionaire, which she wasn’t about to succeed in doing with the state she was in.

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