Science Fiction Romance/Romantic Comedy
Date Published: 3/13/2017
True love is said to defy time, but can it survive space, aliens, and being abducted? Angus MacNamara and Erin O’Shea are about to find out.
The big blue planet that most call Earth desperately needs matchmakers. There is only one small—okay, BIG—problem. No one wants the alien dating service job. No one. The original matchmakers are dead, and much worse, their DNA is no longer viable for cloning.
Solution? Go back in time to some of Earth’s other—thankfully slower spinning—versions, and retrieve the alternates of the one couple in any universe who seems able to do the job.
Far easier said than done though, especially when the alternates are anything but a loving couple, and both are none too pleased to be thrown into the future.
What does oil and water create? Salad dressing or a real mess of aliens, humans, and matchmaking fun!
Over four weeks in that box and Angus was a changed man… at least physically. She put a hand on his arm. It was warm to her touch, thank the Goddess. She had feared they might turn him into one of the cold ones. Some of the aliens had much lower body temperatures. Their clothing kept them at a chilled level that would have had her building a peat fire in the hearth of her little cottage back home. How she missed that little house now, even the broken cook stove and the misbehaving flue. But Doctor Nate had warned her not to dwell on the past since there was no going back to it. He said it was scientifically impossible. She would have said that applied to nearly everything she saw here.
“Angus,” she said. “Are ya alright? Speak to me, for feck’s sake. I’ve been waiting weeks for ya to come around. I don’t like being the only one scared shitless here.”
Eyes blinked open and a turquoise gaze met hers finally. She wanted to lay her head on his chest and weep with relief that he lived.
“What the feck happened to me?” Angus asked, moving to sit up. Erin O’Shea’s surprising strong hand pushed him back down.
“No, don’t raise up. Ya have been very ill,” Erin said. “Take it slow for a bit. No one means ya harm that I can tell.”
“That fellow I drew my gun on did,” Angus said, irritated at the tiredness he felt.
Erin shook her head. “Yar talking about Agent Black and he’s the least of our concerns in this place, Angus.”
His grip on her arm was urgent. “Did they hurt ya?” Angus asked roughly.
Again, Erin shook her head as she peered into his tired gaze. Men could defile ya when they took a notion, but they’d take a knife to anyone else that tried. All men she knew were just as strange to her as any alien she’d met so far.
“No one’s hurt me. They’ve all been completely kind. When yar well enough, I will explain what I know about things. It’s very confusing here, but once ya adjust, they let ya move around with just one guard.”
“Guard? Is this… is this a prison, then?” Angus asked, his throat parched for a drink.
Erin could tell Angus was fighting sleep and losing. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just very different from Lisdoonvarna. Sleep now, Angus. We’ll talk in a bit when yar more alert. They let me come visit ya whenever I want.”
“Good. Come back soon then,” Angus said.
She felt him pull her hand to his chest. Even covered with a sheet she could feel the hard muscles beneath her palm. Angus felt under her fingers like Toorg looked. He definitely hadn’t felt like that before the box.
His action of hanging on to her had her remembering the one and only time she’d found herself under him. Even with no muscles, Angus had shown her a slice of heaven she’d never seen before. It had been wonderful right up to the part where he’d called her Mary just before finding his own relief.
That passionate madness was water under a bridge neither of them would ever see again. She’d be no man’s whore substitute, not even for the grieving widower who vexed her heart.
Nine years Angus had mourned his wife and nine years Erin had waited for him to stop. As far as she knew, there had been no woman under him but her. Apparently, Angus preferred the pleasure of his own hand, especially if there was an oversized glass of ale in it most of the time.
Erin snorted as she stared at the man on the table. “I can’t believe they’d think I’d ever love a wreck of a man like ya, Angus MacNamara. Obviously, the Universe 1 version of me was completely daft. Unless yer version here was made better than yar ever going to be.”
She stopped talking and saw Angus was completely unconscious again.
Running her hand down his chest, she let her fingers bump over all the ridges. Why hadn’t they bothered to do this to her body? She was soft around the middle. Plus, it would have been nice to have a tighter butt and a little better lift to her breasts.
Thirty-eight wasn’t old by any definition she had of aging, but it wasn’t like she was twenty-five either. Angus felt twenty-five… or at least thirty-five. They’d sent her through some fecking beeping machine and not touched her again afterward. That decision, given what they’d done to Angus, was just one more thing she didn’t understand.
Angus jerked in response to stroking fingertips and woke under her touch. Her hand had drifted lower than she realized. She snatched her hand away, mostly because it wanted to keep exploring.
“We’ve been kidnapped,” Angus declared roughly, then rolled his head to the side and slept once more.
Erin nodded, though Angus could no longer see her response. “Close enough,” she said and patted his chest one final time.
About the Author
Donna McDonald published her first romance novel in March of 2011. Forty plus novels later, she admits to living her own happily ever after as a full time author. Her work spans several genres, such as contemporary romance, paranormal, and science fiction. Humor is the most common element across all her writing. Addicted to making readers laugh, she includes a good dose of romantic comedy in every book.
New Adult Romance, Sports Romance
Date Published: 3/13/2017
Football, hockey, and everything in between!
Things are about to heat up on the ice and between the sheets. Each book is a fully fledged,standalone novel about forbidden love.
What happens when you get your dream job and temptation is your ex-hockey-star boss?
Or when the league’s top wide receiver has his eyes on you and he’s supposed to be just a client?
Perhaps you find yourself in enemy territory because the woman you love is your best friend’s sister?
Find out all the dirt in Block & Tackle!
Executive Assistant for CEO of Prestige Media Group
(1) Deal with a massive amount of emails.
(2) Schedule conference calls and meetings with top athletes and other hugely important people.
(3) Pick up dry cleaning and food, consult on tie selection, make dinner reservations, and book flights . . . basically act as a wife-on-steroids.
(4) THE IMPORTANT ONE: Do not, under any circumstances, fall in love with Devon Scott–demanding boss, former NHL player, and all-around gorgeous specimen of the male persuasion.
Absolutely failing at number four.
Off Guard by Stephanie Fournet
Life couldn’t be better for Charlie Woodruff.
After a year of holding out, she’s finally landed the job she’s always wanted in the city of her dreams. An apartment she can afford and new friends at work make the transition easy.
When she meets a gorgeous stranger who makes her laugh and steals her breath, it seems like the icing on the cake…
Until Charlie discovers he’s a client.
Hutch Barlow — newly drafted wide receiver for the Oakland Raiders — looks like an avenging angel, hangs on her every word, and is completely off-limits. The trouble is he also refuses to take “no” for an answer.
And if she’s being honest, Charlie doesn’t want him to.
But seeing him means she could lose everything — including her heart.
Off Limits by Kristin Vayden
Everything about Ava screams off limits.
To want her is to invite disaster.
To pursue her is to risk my job.
To kiss her might cost me my best friend.
But all those risks seem small in light of the first problem.
To her I’m a sell out, choosing to advance my career rather than protect my biggest client.
She hasn’t spoken to me in over a year, but that ends now.
Because I’m done with holding back.
To hell with the consequences.
From Offsides by Elise Faber
If ever a time existed for a curse word, this was it.
Becca was five minutes late. Five entire minutes late, and the little screen on the printer was flashing at her with a paper jam.
“Becca! Those files need to be on my desk now.”
Devon Scott. CEO of Prestige Media Group and her boss. Her very demanding boss.
Hence, curse words. Particularly the four-letter one Becca saved for only very special occasions.
The one that began with “f” and ended with a perfectly timed and heartfelt “uck.”
Yeah. The word pretty much summed up her day. No — her week. Heck, if she was already cursing, it might as well sum up her month.
She yanked the tray from the printer, cleared the jam, and shoved it back in. The printer whirred to life, spitting out pages in a flurry.
“Coming,” she called before dropping her voice and muttering, “Hurry up. Hurry up.”
“Becca. So help me—”
The last page dropped into the tray. She snatched it up, fit it into the proper place of the file, and all but sprinted through the doorway of her boss’s office.
“The printer—” she began.
Devon’s eyes locked with hers, and Becca shivered. Not for the same reason that most people did when they met Mr. Scott. Not because his cool, businesslike expression was attributed to icicles or frozen seawater.
She shivered because of chocolate ice cream.
His eyes conjured thoughts of delicious, rich, melt-on-her-tongue sweetness that made her insides go all squirmy.
And along came that four-letter word again, blaring across her mind.
One winged brow arched, dark brown and perfectly formed. It made a crease on Devon’s forehead, a rainbow of little lines leading up, up, up almost to his hairline.
Which was the precise moment Becca realized she’d said that curse word aloud.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, smacking herself in the face with the manila cardstock in the process and dropping every single paper she’d so painstakingly fought the printer over.
This was not happening. Devon didn’t allow mistakes and… she sighed. She really needed this job.
The phone rang, and Becca lowered the folder, reaching out a hand to grab the receiver.
Devon beat her to it, snatching the phone up and snapping a terse “Hello” into it. But his eyes didn’t leave hers as the conversation went on. They sharpened, holding her in place as effectively as handcuffs—
And oh God. Now her cheeks were burning.
Trust her mind to take her straight on a journey to FSOG.
She bent, hurriedly collecting and ordering the papers before gingerly setting the file on his desk and beginning to back from the room.
Warm fingers on her wrist stopped her.
Becca’s eyes flashed down, and she shivered again. Tanned skin against porcelain. Thick, strong fingers dwarfing hers.
Devon Scott was a former hockey player, and it was easy to see why. He was every inch an athlete.
Oh good Lord.
She bit her lip and looked away.
“I need to go,” Devon said into the phone and hung up, hardly waiting a beat before allowing the receiver to drop.
It clattered and fell to the floor, but Becca barely noticed.
Because Devon was walking around the desk, his grip on her wrist tightening when she tried to slip free.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, calloused fingertips running along the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist.
“Nothing.” She tugged her arm, silently telling him to release her.
In fact, he leaned closer, bringing his face near hers, trailing the scent of pine and spice and man alongside.
“I said what’s wrong?”
The question made every part of her body go all tingly. Head to toes — and in between — each part heated and perked to attention.
Those parts told Becca to grab two fistfuls of Devon’s white button-down and rip. To pop the row of buttons and bury her face in the broad expanse of his chest.
But she had some pride. And a backbone, for that matter.
So she lifted her chin and said again, “Nothing.”
His hand wove into her hair, scattering the messy ponytail she’d thrown her brown locks into that morning as she’d run out the door behind schedule.
First the coffee shop for Devon’s large latte — she couldn’t abide the stuff. Then the bagel shop for his breakfast. Then rushing across town to open the office by five-thirty.
Her life was about making his easier.
And that was totally fine. She was the disposable half of their working relationship. She knew the score.
Until she didn’t.
One strong arm snaked around her waist and tugged her flush to his chest. The chest she’d admired for so long, the chest that made her want to lick… and squeeze… and stroke…
She didn’t have a chance.
He kissed her.
His mouth was firm and insistent, his tongue parting her lips to sneak inside, teasing hers until she broke free of her shock and kissed him back.
His hand slid lower and gripped her butt, pulling her somehow closer as he backed her up against his desk and proceeded to kiss the smart right out of her.
Buttons on her blouse came unfastened, his belt unbuckled, her skirt hitched higher, and—
From Off Guard by Stephanie Fournet
She sounded much more composed than she felt. His presence, his attention, his eyes, everything about him weakened her resolve, and Charlie found herself wanting to reach for him.
That could not happen.
Hutch gently set her fork down on her abandoned plate and then leaned into the back of her couch. He watched her for a long moment. So long the silence grew awkward. The look in his eyes was completely unreadable.
“Are you wishing I hadn’t come?”
The question shocked the truth out of her. “No. Not at all.”
His elegant brow rose just a fraction. “But you want me to leave.” It wasn’t a question, but he sought her face for an answer, and, again, Charlie felt compelled to speak the truth.
“I don’t want you to leave. I need you to leave.” Saying it aloud filled her with regret, so much so she nearly panicked. Please don’t leave, she wanted to tell him.
The light in his eyes changed. “You don’t want me to leave?” She watched him fight a smile. Seeing that made her happy in a way she couldn’t explain. And at the same time, the happiness stung in a way that almost made her eyes water.
She took a measured breath. “You heard me,” she said, unwilling to give away anything else.
Hutch brought his elbow to the back of her couch and leaned his head against his knuckles. He looked at her. No one in her whole life had ever looked at her so openly.
“I don’t want to leave.” His voice was soft, deep, and it penetrated her skin and buried itself deep into her bones. She felt like she’d carry its resonance in her ribs and her sternum and her spine for the rest of her days.
Charlie swallowed and leaned against the back of her couch, matching his posture almost exactly. It was comfortable like this, resting her head against her hand and staring at an impossibly beautiful man. “What do you want?” she heard herself whisper.
“I want permission,” he whispered back.
Her breath tripped, stopped, and started again. “Permission for what?”
“To kiss you.”
From Off Limits by Kristin Vayden
This would do nothing but boost Bryce’s ability to market his brand. With any luck, he’d clench the Sprite deal we’d been working on. It was all about name recognition, and tonight’s game had given his a huge boost.
“I swear if you turn around, and I see dollar signs where your eyes should be, I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions.” Her tone was acidic, grating on my final nerve. “That’s my brother. Don’t forget that.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I turned, wishing I could take the words back as soon as they filled the room. Because it wasn’t going to help anything — not her, not Bryce. Sure as hell not me.
“You!” She gave a sarcastic neck twist, eyes blazing.
“Really? Because I’ve never had a problem with you, Ava. Ever.”
Her gaze flickered to the ground then back to me, just enough hesitation in her expression to tempt me to push my luck. “And maybe… maybe if you’d stop focusing on your own assumptions, you might see that I’m not your enemy. But I get it. It’s easier to be pissed at me than Bryce. And I’m good with that. I’ll pretend with you because he did make the choice to play when you asked him to quit. I’ll take the heat for that every damn day.” I started to walk toward her, each step slow and measured as her caramel-colored eyes studied me, but she didn’t back away.
“Just don’t delude yourself into thinking that I have anything against you, Ava. I never have. Never will. So… deal with it.” I shrugged, stopping just before her, yet close enough for her floral perfume to assault me with lethal force.
“As if you see anything past his bank account.” She gave a cold glare.
“You really have no clue, do you?” I shook my head, intense frustration warring against the insane ideas that kept popping into my mind. “Everything — everything — that Bryce does is for you. And even if he didn’t take every step with you in mind, I would.” The words were soft, but the heavy nature filled the room, weighing it down. I was pushing my luck to the limit.
Ava tilted her chin lightly, her expression shifting. The light from the kitchen illuminated her lips as her pink tongue darted out to lick them. “What do you mean that you would?”
I shook my head, a slight smile teasing my lips. “And you say that I’m dense.” Without giving her a chance to respond, I gently nipped her lower lip, breathing in her small gasp at the contact before meeting her lips once more before pulling away. Part of me was tense, waiting for the slap that would inevitably come, but rather than a hard smack, her hand reached up and cupped my chin, pulling me in tighter. And my body reacted like a match to the flame.
About the Author
Aside from writing romance, Elise Faber’s passions are chocolate, Star Wars, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team — the Sharks! — are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise is the mom to two exuberant boys and is thoroughly addicted to Dancing With the Stars. Connect with her on facebook (facebook.com/elisefaberauthor
), twitter (@faberelise), instagram (@elisefaber) or www.elisefaber.com
Kristin Vayden’s inspiration for the romance she writes comes from her tall, dark and handsome husband with killer blue eyes. With five children to chase, she is never at a loss for someone to kiss, something to cook or some mess to clean but she loves every moment of it! Life is full—of blessings and adventure! Needless to say she’s a big fan of coffee and wine…and living in Washington she’s within walking distance of both! Follow her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/kristinvaydenauthor) And Instagram @kristinkatjoyce and Twitter @KristinVayden! You can also sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/795f9.
Amazon Bestselling Author Stephanie Fournet has five novels to her name: FALL SEMESTER, LEGACY, BUTTERFLY GINGER, LEAVE A MARK, and YOU FIRST. She lives with her husband, daughter, and dogs in Lafayette, Louisiana, not far from the Saint Streets where her books are set. When she isn’t working or writing, she can often be found running or curled up with a romance novel. Visit Her Website (http://www.stephaniefournet.com/). Follow her on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/stephanie.fournet) And Instagram @stephanie_fournet and Twitter @stephanie4net!
Historical Romance, Women’s Fiction
Set in the tumultuous period of Guam history, between the Spanish-American War and World War II, the lives and loves of three Chamorro women unfold amid the changes and challenges around them. Sixteen-year old Amanda falls of a navy seaman who leaves her with child. Her daughter Sylvia grows up an illegitimate orphan. Yet she finds happiness with Tino Camacho, who loves her despite her scandalous background. Life teaches their daughter, the level-headed Vivian Camacho, that falling for an American navy man is futile, like reaching for the moon.
Cultural and racial prejudices increase the distance. Vivian avoids such futility until the handsome Philip Avery, an up-and-coming naval engineer, enters her life as an upstairs tenant newly assigned to Guam. Vivian falls in love with him but knows nothing can come of it. Philip is from a different world, one of wealth, rank, and privilege. Vivian is a simple island girl who lives under naval government rule. Philip is a man well beyond her reach. He is as distant from her world as the moon; he is the mansion there. Philip falls in love also, but his career comes first. Both deny their feelings for each other; their love cannot be. But love knows no distance, sees no differences.
About the Author
C. Sablan Gault, a native born Chamorro, began her writing career in advertising. She holds a BA in Anthropology and studied journalism. She worked as an advertising assistant, newspaper reporter, feature writer, and columnist. She then served as press secretary to a Guam governor, a legislator, and to Guam’s delegate to the U.S. House of Representatives. She also worked as a writer and researcher for a Guam political status education commission. She and her husband David, a Vietnam-era Seabee, live in Guam.