Book & Author Details:
12 Alphas 12 Months: Contemporary Sensual Romance Calendar
Boxed Set
Publication date: July 7th 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance
Boxed Set
Publication date: July 7th 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
USA Today, Amazon and Multi-published Bestselling Authors bring you sensual contemporary romance stories of…
ALPHAS: Military/Vets, Shifters, Blue Collar, Business Men, Athletes, Smoke Jumpers, Doctors and more… Ladies this is the YEAR of your dreams. 12 Alphas 12 Months come and get your calendar men!
All New Stories…with a connection. That’s right. These stories all have a main theme that unites them. Tamela Harvin is a nationally syndicated radio host who left the glitz and glamour of Hollywood to use her fame helping out those less fortunate. She loves a cause. When she contacted by a listener about a grave concern close to her heart; widower fathers struggling to find emotional support and care for their children after a lose of a wife, Tamela gets to work. Calling in all her community activist across the continent and one sharp photographer, Braden Niles, she creates a calendar of hot sexy men to raise money and support.
From one story to another, men are stepping up, and taking it off to help fathers and children in need.
Don’t you want to do your part? One click and your in. .99 cents for a limited time.
Meet your men:
Mr. January
Beg for It by Angie Daniels
Three wild erotic nights will have her begging for more…
Beg For It by Angie Daniels
They followed the beat of nineties music with her high-heel, lime-green pumps echoing on the concrete floor. The popular tunes alone were enough to take her mind back ten years to a bleak period she’d rather forget. When they neared the gym, she noticed the former students standing in the hallways, laughing and talking. Jayla ignored the appreciative male gazes that followed them toward the door. Just any man wouldn’t do, and even then, the last thing she’d be interested in was something romantic. She no longer engaged in relationships. A weekend fling… that was a horse of a different color.
Together they stepped into the gymnasium that was already crowded. Classmates were already mingling, taking photographs, and heavy laughter circulated the room. One guy who looked vaguely familiar whistled as she sauntered past and yet Jayla rolled her eyes heavenward. Ten years ago he wouldn’t have given her the time of day, therefore, she didn’t even give him the satisfaction of looking his way. Instead, she tilted her chin and continued her stride through the doors and over to the registration desk, decorated in the purple and gold school colors, where a very pregnant woman was seated.
“Welcome back to Dixon High!” she greeted in a high-pitched voice. “Names please.”
“I’m Kat James and this is my cousin Jayla Parker.”
“Hi Kat!” she squealed. “I’m Hannah. We use to have American Literature together.”
“Of course,” she said and then batted her eyelashes, which Jayla knew was a clear indication her cousin was lying. Kat had a better chance of remembering some gorgeous guy she’d met in line at the supermarket.
Hannah’s blue eyes studied Jayla before a puzzled frown marred her forehead. “Jayla… hmm, I’m afraid I don’t remember you.”
Oh course she didn’t. What was there to remember?
Quit running in the halls before I have to give you a citation!
Spit out that gum!
Jayla gave herself a mental shake, then stood off to the side as she waited for her name-tag. She would not allow anything to drag her mind down that dark path. Instead, she would do what she had done for years—focus on reinvention and elevation. Dedication and hard work had eventually paid off. And as a result, she was no longer that frumpy hall monitor who lurked the corridors, instead she was the new, beautiful, free-spirited version Jayla Parker.
Jayla’s eyes traveled around the large space the reunion committee had transformed into a night club. Strobe lighting. Two cash bars. A dozen waitresses working the floor. While looking over at a table in the corner, something caught her attention.
Someone.
Jayla swallowed. There he was. Stefano Ortiz.
Jayla recognized him immediately. Former track star. Mr. Popular. Even after all these years, he was fiercely sexy, and muy caliente. All it took was one sweep of his dark eyes and heat flooded through her so suddenly she nearly stumbled back. Kat was calling her name, but Jayla was catatonic and her feet felt glued to the floor. How was it even possible for Stefano to be more handsome than before? she wondered. And yet the proof was sitting right in front of her. The years had only intensified his fine qualities. His Latino features were so mesmerizing, she felt her tongue sliding across her lips.
And cream inching down her inner thighs.
He had eyes black as the midnight sky, a shadowed face with lean cheeks and a strong nose. His hair was dark and thick, cut a little too short for her taste and yet her fingers itched to stroke his head, and then there was his beautiful dark skin. However, what penetrated into her soul, like an explicit dream, was the memories of the deep accented timbre of his voice when he spoke Spanish.
Her nerve-endings were firing in a way she had not experienced before and Jayla quickly hauled her eyes away. Back in high school, all of the girls, especially the cliques, whimpered with desire when he walked by. Stefano was used to girls wanting him, and a little twist of bitterness clenched inside her at the memories. Back then, he hadn’t given a girl like her the time of day.
But now she was a woman. And tonight, all was about to change.
~Mr. February
Got your Six by Erosa Knowles
In the end, the only words he needed were hers in Reclamation: Got your Six by Erosa Knowles.
Angelique could not believe the feeling that caused her body to tingle. She’d had orgasms before, but none that compared to the one she’d just experienced. It was so massive it could, from her perspective, count as more than one. She could not move. She wanted to lift her body onto her high bed, but that was a task she was not ready for as of yet. Her legs were still unstable. When she’d purchased the bed she thought of how sexy it would be. Never did she think she’d be too exhausted to get into the bed.
When she finally opened her eyes, she looked down into Justice’s face. He still sat kneeling before her. She focused on his eyes and they had darkened with passion. She reached down and rubbed her hand across his face. He tilted his head and kissed her hand. The slight movement melted her heart. That was the motivation she needed to finally stand on her own.
Pushing away from the side of the bed, she reached for his hand. He placed his into hers and finally rose to his feet. She was quickly reminded that his bottom half was still covered with clothing. Placing her hand at the waistband of the sweatpants she pulled them over his hips. His member sprang forward ready for action. She had never been one of those people who believed in stereotypes. He was blessed with both girth and length.
“I have condoms in there,” she said as she pointed toward the nightstand.
Justice wasted no time. He quickly stepped out of his pants and went to retrieve them. The shocked look on his face was enough to have her wondering if she’d left her magic mike there instead.
“What in the world?” he asked.
He lifted his hand from the drawer holding several packages of condoms. All sizes and styles rained from his fingers. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Hey, a girl can’t be too careful,” she laughed.
~Mr. March
Succulent by TJ Michaels
Twilight Teahouse ~ Choosing something decadent from our menu…
Inferno by Aliyah Burke
A woman stood outside on the phone, staring at him with a mix of horror and shock. Or so he figured given her expression.
“I don’t know,” she said as he neared. “I’m giving it five more minutes then I’m leaving. I don’t care, Regina, not even for the tiniest little fuck.”
He winked at her. Cute little thing even with the scowling disposition. She had a pale pink leather newsboy on her head, an oversized zippered gray hoodie with Shreveport written across the front. Her jeans fit snugly, showing off nice legs and an ass. She had tennis shoes on, toes turned in toward each other.
Exasperation filled her features as her phone call continued. With a curse, she pulled it from her ear and shoved it in her pocket then stormed back to the door. He lengthened his stride and reached the door the same time she did and held it for her.
“Thank you.” Her tone was short.
He entered and scoured the area for his grandfather. The old codger sat in the back. Striding up to him, he slid over the naguahyde bench seat. They stared at each other until his grandfather yawned.
“Have you gone to see Ma and Da?”
“No.”
Such finality in that single word.
Bastian poured himself some coffee, using one of the overturned mugs. Adding a liberal dose of sugar and cream he stirred it until the liquid appeared properly mixed.
“You said you needed my help. I’m here. What with?”
“I promise friend you help.”
An itch between his shoulder blades was born and grew as quickly as a fire could turn. “Doing what?”
He shrugged and Bastian groaned.
“very well. Where is your friend?”
His grandfather pointed and he turned in the seat to see. The same woman he’d held the door for was on her way back outside.
Facing his Pops again, he lifted one eyebrow. “Really? You befriended a young black woman?”
“Why shocked? I no racist.”
“Because you’re an old crotchety ass.”
His lips thinned below his mustache. “Go talk. Her name, Jazz.”
Bastian finished his drink and pushed to his feet. Suspicious? Definitely. His gramps used to speak English well. I’m going to regret this. He paused on his way to the door, pausing once to glance over his shoulder. The old man shooed him along with a gesture. Back outside, he maneuvered behind her. The phone was back to her ear.
“Because I’m not happy, Regina. I’m not even sure what his grandson looks like. I’m surrounded by hillbillies.”
He cleared his throat. She turned slowly before her eyes widened as she gazed him over.
“I have to go,” she muttered, then returned the phone to her pocket. “Can I help you?”
Her voice was husky with an accent which was familiar but he couldn’t quite place at the moment.
He almost smiled. “I believe I’m the hillbilly supposed to help you.”
Mr. April
Stalking Nayla by Yvette Hines
Nayla is being hunted. Shimar has to keep her safe, but convincing her she’s his mate is the real challenge.
Hurrying, she was at almost a run. The revving engine let her know that her pursuers had picked up speed too. Coming to the end of the deck, she saw an alleyway between the deck and the store. She considered ducking into it, but thought against it.
That’s how women get caught in movies.
“Bitch, stop!”
Pressing her hand to her chest to make sure the thin wallet stashed at the side of one of her breasts didn’t pop out, she began to run. Her low heels tapped fiercely on the concrete.
“Ah!” She screamed and struggled as someone grabbed her arm and yanked.
Dragged into the dark alleyway and pressed against the cool cement of the store, she fought against her captor blindly.
“Let me go, asshole!” She swung her fist and bucked her body as the grip tightened on one wrist and the weight of someone angled into her.
“Calm down—”
“You’ve messed with the wrong woman!” She bucked. Her language ghetto and menacing, evidence of her true roots. “Bastard, get off—”
His strength overpowered her, as he kept a hand over her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Mister Amber Eyes was staring down at her. He had six inches or so over her five ten height. She wasn’t sure where he’d come from, but a part of her mind was glad he was there.
She preferred this stranger to the group in the car, evidenced by her body’s response to him. Yes, her heart was racing, and it would be easy to see it as a fact of her running for her life. However, that didn’t explain her taut nipples, the instant ache in her body or the throbbing of her clit.
The raw scent of cinnamon and sage drew her to him, made her crave his naked skin sliding along her own.
What in the hell? This was no time for her to become aroused. There were men out to get her.
His own gaze was intense as he stared at her, hard. His muscles were tense, not just from holding her, but bunching and flexing as if he fought within himself. There was a deep V over the bridge of his nose as if he were perplexed about something. She even became aware of a slight tremor that shook his form.
With his hand still over her mouth, she couldn’t question him.
There was a wide arc of light coming from the street as the vehicle came to the alley.
“She went down there.” Someone shouted.
The alley was wide enough for a garbage truck to pass through, allowing the car plenty of space to pass.
She wiggled, trying to indicate to her stranger that they needed to go. Soon, the headlights would spotlight them and they’d be caught.
“Be still.” His voice was strong, sure, husky. “Trust me?”
Unsure why he questioned her on that since they hadn’t even really met, or why she was nodding her answer that she did. But, at the center of her core, her very being, she trusted them man.
The car barreled toward them, the beam illuminating the walls and trash littering the alleyway as it drew closer. Any moment the two of them would be spotted.
He leaned in closer and laid his mouth against her ear. “Forgive me,” he whispered, his warm breath captivating her, seducing her senses.
Forgive hi—
Like a strike of lightning, his hand was under her dress and between her thighs. He circumvented the edge her thong and was inside of her.
Two thick fingers were thrust all the way in her sex.
Shocked didn’t begin to explain how she felt. She squeaked and pressed her fists into his chest trying to move him.
“Keep still,” he growled the order.
She froze, as the headlights landed on them.
“Where the fuck is she?”
The harsh rays kept her from seeing who was speaking as the car stopped.
I’m right here. Why can’t they see us standing right here?
Three car doors slammed.
Shivers raced through her. We’re caught.
Mr. May
Prescription for Love by Seressia Glass
She’s just what the doctor ordered in Prescription for Love
Prescription for Love by Seressia Glass
His quiet assurances had more of an impact on her than flirting, driving a need to deflect the curious squishiness in her chest. “You’re just saying that because you want to get in my pants.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.”
She placed the last of the food in the fridge. “So you don’t want to get in my pants?”
“Of course I want to get in your pants—I’m not dead. Or stupid. Because I’m neither dead or stupid, I know just telling you how hot and beautiful you are isn’t going to work.”
“What do you think will work?”
“Being real. Being honest.” Dark eyes swept over her as he stepped closer, his nearness heating her skin. “I’m attracted to you, you know that. It started with you smiling at me while you sang along to Beyoncé. It continued with the verbal karate match we had at your sister’s place. By the time you started flirting with me, I was already hooked.”
“Wait. I flirted with you? Are you sure that wasn’t the other way around?”
“I was in the kitchen minding my own business when you glided in like a goddess about to bless me.” He grinned, and her stomach clenched. “Which you did.”
“Alex...”
He cupped her cheeks. “I want you, Jasmine. I’ve made no secret of that. I want to taste you, touch you, take my time exploring you. I want to discover what makes you sigh, what makes you moan, and what makes you scream. I want you even more now that I’ve finally had a chance to kiss you.”
Goodness. That...that wasn’t flirting. That was a bold-faced declaration of intent.
Desire pinched his features tight as he stared down at her. “Am I alone in this? Am I alone in wanting to know how good we’ll be together?”
“No.” The intensity of his gaze and the electricity of his touch combined to steal all thought except one. “Need to kiss you.”
“Yes. Hell, yes.”
~Mr. June
Solomon’s Quest by Serenity King
He’s determined to protect her, but the secrets she keeps may destroy her.
Solomon’s Quest
**Excerpt**
Tabitha swiped her room key, opening the door. Before she’d had a chance to enter, Solomon had pushed past her to cross the threshold ahead of her.
Following swiftly on his heels—she opened her mouth to protest, but instead collided into his back with a thud when he abruptly stopped room. He’d gone stiff as a board. Tabitha could practically feel the angry energy emanating from his being.
On instinct, she shifted her gaze to see what had caused him to suddenly stop in his tracks. Her eyes narrowed and moved with precision around the room: left, center, right, and back again; right, center, left. The room was in shambles. The covers from the mattress had been tossed, all of the dresser drawers were open, and the contents of her carryall were in a heap on top of the bed.
She clenched her keycard in her hand—her knuckles straining against the card; her body trembled with anger. It took everything in her not to scream out the fury that she felt.
“Who knew you were staying at this particular hotel?” Solomon asked, his face expressionless.
His words reverberated around the room, and she repeated them in her head, Who knew you were staying in this particular hotel? That was a good question. Who?
“No one. I purposely chose not to stay in the hotel with the bridal party and the other models; however, I did book a room there, and I also checked in,” Tabitha replied, her voice somber.
Think back Tabitha. What did you miss?
Again, she scanned the room quickly, trying to commit everything to memory. To her trained eye, nothing appeared to be missing—just messy. She did, however, notice a lone piece of paper sitting in plain site in the middle of the mess on the bed. Tabitha recognized the shape and color of the slip of paper; she’d seen it often enough in the past year. She hoped Solomon didn’t notice it too. Now she only had to get to it before Solomon thought anything of it.
Tabitha made to move and was quickly halted by the sharp piercing tone of Solomon’s voice.
“Don’t you dare move, Tabitha,” Solomon snarled.
“Nonsense. I have to check my things,” she scolded.
“Not before we call the authorities,” he countered.
“No!” she said abruptly. Realizing that her tone may have been a little too brusque, she spoke more softly. “I mean not yet. Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. She saw his hesitation. “Trust me Solomon.”
Tabitha went to move past him, but his outstretched arm held her back.
“If you’re trying to beat me to that lone piece of paper in the middle of the bed, don’t bother,” he said knowingly, moving swiftly to the bed to retrieve it.
She hurried after him. It was the same as before. The paper was folded in two and was of high quality—linen to be exact. Inside the fold was a lock of brownish black hair. The scrawling on the paper was sharp and precise. It read, Peek-a-boo I see you.
Tabitha’s breath caught in her throat. It took all of her training not to cry out in frustration. In the blink of an eye, she suddenly went from shocked to furious. I am going to get you, you crazed maniac. You and your minions, she thought to herself.
“Since you don’t want to call the authorities, you can’t stay here tonight. I’ll get someone over here to clean this mess up,” Solomon said tersely. “You are going to tell me what’s going on Tabitha. This is personal. I know you’re a part of an agency. Which one, I don’t know yet. This,” he said, holding up the note, “has nothing to do with any agency. This is real personal.”
Tabitha was relieved that though he was furious, he spoke in hushed, even tones, as he’d done since they’d entered the room. He knew the score.
She watched as he walked over to the air conditioner and turned it on full blast. He then walked over to the bathroom and kitchenette area and turned on the water.
“I can’t be seen with you Solomon.” Her voice shook.
“It’s too late now. Undoubtedly, someone’s watching you. There are security cameras all around. Anyone who really wants to know will. Are you married to anything in this room?” he asked, over the loud hum of the air conditioner and running water.
“No,” she answered, her voice scruffy.
“Good. I need to make a call,” he said, walking closer to her.
Mr. July
One Hot Dare by Michelle Monkou
When to serve and protect escalates into a sexy dangerous game.ONE HOT DARE by Michelle Monkou
The cure, the final chance at a normal life, had failed.
There were signs—shortness of breath, heart palpitations, weakness in the extremities, and indescribable pain. These symptoms he’d paid to be suppressed mimicked a raging viral attack. He was desperate to do anything to stop the curse that ran through his blood.
Ken Tenaka squeezed his eyes shut. A sharp pain zigzagged a lightening path through his head, from back to front. Please let this be it. What more could he do to get peace of mind? Sucking in deep breaths, he mentally tried to push back the increasing surges of adrenalin that scared the hell out of him. The turbo blasts to his system left him lightheaded and winded, as if caught up on a malfunctioning merry-go-round.
~Mr. August
All The Small Things by Stephanie Burke
The more unbearable the pain, the richer the rewards
All the Small Things by Stephanie Burke
From this point on, he could not lie to Tego and Tego would not lie to him. The drive to please his alpha would almost be as strong as his desire to pamper his omega.
“Who are they?” he asked again, knowing this time he would get an answer.
His pate pulled back, his submissive whimpers turning into low growls.
“Who?” Had someone touched his omega before? Had someone defiled his perfection? He sniffed harder, lowering his head to sniff at his crotch as his mate whimpered, again. “Who?”
“My brothers,” his mate gasped, fear scent blotting out the joy scent that once saturated his pheromones. “My re-responsibility. My baby brothers—”
Tego whimpered, his voice sounding apologetic as he shook in Daiki’s grasp.
The alpha nearly felt shame at his reactions, but swiftly pushed that emotion aside. There was a lot he didn’t know about his omega, about taking an American mate, and he had a sharp learning curve.
He chuffed soothingly and lapped at the skin of his mate’s neck. It was a simple misunderstanding.
His mate’s fear eased, but the scent of worry remained. As he pulled back, huge liquid eyes gazed back at him and Daiki could see him force back the wolf and his humanity took over.
As he watched, the meek shy omega...he assumed he now possessed... turned into a snarling snapping demon within the blink of an eye.
“Get the fuck off of me!” he roared, lashing out as he scrambled backwards.
Instead of being outraged, the alpha was shocked to find that his wolf appreciated the fight in his mate. He looked down as a sting in his chest registered and he discovered that now only was his mate strong, he possessed more of a wolfly instinct that he had assumed. There were four parallel rents that cut straight through his kimono and haori that exposed the sluggishly bleeding scratches in his skin.
It turned him on more than he thought possible. He felt his cock swell and his already heated blood race through his veins.
Yes, his mate was dangerous, protective, and knew how to use the weapons that nature gave him.
He looked back to his mate and grinned as he saw how he managed to put a lot of room between them, looking like he was fighting against himself as he glared balefully at him. The fear scent was gone, replaced by one of anger and defiance as he deliberately brought his fingers to his lips and delicately lapped the blood from his fingertips.
He smiled, exposing his fangs as he began to stalk his mate.
“Brothers,” he spoke softly, watching as his mate suddenly looked weary as he tried to shift to his feet. But his wolf was rapidly taking over as his silver eyes took on a alight gold sheen. Still on his knees, he backed away more, keeping a good distance between them. “How commendable.”
“Mine,” his mate hissed back. “My brothers. My Angels. My responsibility.”
“Will you protect our cubs so diligently?” he wondered out load, an amused smile pulling at his lips as his mate’s eyes read delight at the thought of his own cubs before his human mind tamped down the wolf.
“My brothers. My responsibility,” he growled, lowering his head and protecting his neck as if he imagined attacking Daiki if he made so much as a move to harm his charges.
“Your parents—“
“Dead,” his mate growled and Daiki froze.
“Dead?” he blinked back the wolf and startled as he scented grief from his mate. “Your clan—“
“No clan,” he answered, his eyes looking leery as he stopped retreating now that Daiki had stopped advancing. “Just me.”
Daiki whimpered in shared grief. As much as sometimes his clan annoyed him or outright angered him, he knew that they would always be there for him, would always be his pack. He could not imagine life along. Was this common here in America or was there something special about his mate?
He suddenly understood the need for his mate to appear so powerful, to have shorn his hair in the manner of an alpha, for his readiness to attack at the mere thought of someone harming his angels. His mate was a lone wolf.
He whined in sadness and stepped closer to his omega, reaching for him, pouring out the scents calmness and understanding as he approached.
His mate, though still weary looking, allowed him closer, though his hissed a bit and raised his hands in a defensive maneuver before he got too close. Daiki stopped and dropped to his knees.
Even here, he was taller than his mate, more intimidating thought he thought Tego would feel some measure of comfort in knowing that his alpha was larger than him.
“My Angels,” Tego chuffed again, the wolf taking over as his body began to tremble and push pheromones that read the need for protection and comfort.
“We will retrieve you angels,” he nodded once as he settled comfortably and placed his hands on his thighs. “We will bring your angels to safety.”
Then an appalled thought crossed his mind. “Where are they? Did I take you from them?” If that was the case, then he would rush down and retrieve them. They would carry the clan scent from Tego... No. He could not leave his mate. Pre-bonding had begun. If he left now, anyone could come in and challenge him when he was most vulnerable and steal his mate.
Human and wolf selves vied for dominance. His thoughts were whirling. He had to protect the mate, but he had to protect those under his mate’s care. His brothers, baby brothers, he had said, were alone and defenseless... but then so was his omega. He didn’t know what to do. The wolf was goring inpatient and the human was getting angry.
There was something he could do, someone he could call... but his Clan was away and he only had his betas and...
A touch to his hand brought his eyes up to see his mate had approached. Posed to flee if necessary, Tego had managed to move close enough to him to touch his hand with one single finger.
Though his hands were larger than any omega he had ever touched, they managed, despite their size, to hold the delicate look of an omega. His nails were shiny and sharp, his fingers slim and narrow. He had the most capable and vulnerable looking hands he had ever seen.
“My brothers?” he asked, the wolf gold in his eyes retreating as if he would flee if he didn’t receive the proper response to his request.
Daiki blinked and his human-self pushed the answer forward as his wolf-self marveled at his mate. Betas.
“My—our betas... they will retrieve The Tenshi.”
Some of the wariness eased, though his mate still appeared cautious.
“My responsibility,” he muttered, looking lost.
“Our responsibility.” He corrected. Yes, the beta who had seemed so protective yet obediently when he used his sword. This beta would retrieve the Tenshi.
Mr. September
Inferno by Aliyah Burke
Sometimes the flames aren’t meant to be put out.
Inferno by Aliyah Burke
A woman stood outside on the phone, staring at him with a mix of horror and shock. Or so he figured given her expression.
“I don’t know,” she said as he neared. “I’m giving it five more minutes then I’m leaving. I don’t care, Regina, not even for the tiniest little fuck.”
He winked at her. Cute little thing even with the scowling disposition. She had a pale pink leather newsboy on her head, an oversized zippered gray hoodie with Shreveport written across the front. Her jeans fit snugly, showing off nice legs and an ass. She had tennis shoes on, toes turned in toward each other.
Exasperation filled her features as her phone call continued. With a curse, she pulled it from her ear and shoved it in her pocket then stormed back to the door. He lengthened his stride and reached the door the same time she did and held it for her.
“Thank you.” Her tone was short.
He entered and scoured the area for his grandfather. The old codger sat in the back. Striding up to him, he slid over the naguahyde bench seat. They stared at each other until his grandfather yawned.
“Have you gone to see Ma and Da?”
“No.”
Such finality in that single word.
Bastian poured himself some coffee, using one of the overturned mugs. Adding a liberal dose of sugar and cream he stirred it until the liquid appeared properly mixed.
“You said you needed my help. I’m here. What with?”
“I promise friend you help.”
An itch between his shoulder blades was born and grew as quickly as a fire could turn. “Doing what?”
He shrugged and Bastian groaned.
“very well. Where is your friend?”
His grandfather pointed and he turned in the seat to see. The same woman he’d held the door for was on her way back outside.
Facing his Pops again, he lifted one eyebrow. “Really? You befriended a young black woman?”
“Why shocked? I no racist.”
“Because you’re an old crotchety ass.”
His lips thinned below his mustache. “Go talk. Her name, Jazz.”
Bastian finished his drink and pushed to his feet. Suspicious? Definitely. His gramps used to speak English well. I’m going to regret this. He paused on his way to the door, pausing once to glance over his shoulder. The old man shooed him along with a gesture. Back outside, he maneuvered behind her. The phone was back to her ear.
“Because I’m not happy, Regina. I’m not even sure what his grandson looks like. I’m surrounded by hillbillies.”
He cleared his throat. She turned slowly before her eyes widened as she gazed him over.
“I have to go,” she muttered, then returned the phone to her pocket. “Can I help you?”
Her voice was husky with an accent which was familiar but he couldn’t quite place at the moment.
He almost smiled. “I believe I’m the hillbilly supposed to help you.”
Mr. October
Wicked Games by Maureen Smith
Some games are too dangerous to play.
~
Mr. November
The Ultimate Goal by Di Topaz
Will Justice and Angelique put their difference aside and go for the Ultimate Goal?
Angelique could not believe the feeling that caused her body to tingle. She’d had orgasms before, but none that compared to the one she’d just experienced. It was so massive it could, from her perspective, count as more than one. She could not move. She wanted to lift her body onto her high bed, but that was a task she was not ready for as of yet. Her legs were still unstable. When she’d purchased the bed she thought of how sexy it would be. Never did she think she’d be too exhausted to get into the bed.
When she finally opened her eyes, she looked down into Justice’s face. He still sat kneeling before her. She focused on his eyes and they had darkened with passion. She reached down and rubbed her hand across his face. He tilted his head and kissed her hand. The slight movement melted her heart. That was the motivation she needed to finally stand on her own.
Pushing away from the side of the bed, she reached for his hand. He placed his into hers and finally rose to his feet. She was quickly reminded that his bottom half was still covered with clothing. Placing her hand at the waistband of the sweatpants she pulled them over his hips. His member sprang forward ready for action. She had never been one of those people who believed in stereotypes. He was blessed with both girth and length.
“I have condoms in there,” she said as she pointed toward the nightstand.
Justice wasted no time. He quickly stepped out of his pants and went to retrieve them. The shocked look on his face was enough to have her wondering if she’d left her magic mike there instead.
“What in the world?” he asked.
He lifted his hand from the drawer holding several packages of condoms. All sizes and styles rained from his fingers. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Hey, a girl can’t be too careful,” she laughed.
~Mr. December
Seeking Santa by Latrivia S. Nelson
Alone during the Christmas holidays in a new city, Jade sets out on a mission to find happiness.
Purchase:
Blitz-wide giveaway
• Prizes from all 12 A authors:
Yvette: 1 eBook copy of Haulcon’s Revenge
Di Topaz: 1 print copy of The Joy Series
Seressia Glass: a signed copy of SPICE and a 12 Alphas 12 Months calendar
Erosa Knowles: 1 copy of Reclamation boxset (this is the first 3 stories in her series that is connected to her story in the boxset)
Michelle Monkou: 1-One To Love paperback (for U.S. residents only)
Aliyah Burke: A copy of backlist book for winner (their choice)
Serenity King: $10 Amazon GC
Angie Daniels: $25 Amazon GC
Maureen Smith: $25 Amazon GC
Stephanie Burke: 1-Alpha Care kit including: chocolate, a collar and wrap around body chains and slave anklets.
Latrivia Nelson: 1- Print copy of Vasily’s Revenge (The Medlov Men Series)
TJ Michaels: 1-Print copy of Juicy
a Rafflecopter giveaway
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