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We Like Bad Boys! Book Blitz

This is where Millie is in a sex club, trying to track down a suitably tattooed bad boy to rile her father…..

The visual of the man leaving the room hits me instantly, like a visceral call from every single tiny piece of me. I can only watch, my heart in my throat as the man exits, running a hand through his dark hair. He looks thoroughly worn out, like he’s had a good time in that private room, and it fills me with livid, hot jealousy.
Wearing dark grey jeans and black biker boots, a black T-shirt is balled up in his fist that showcases his heavily-inked torso. And it’s magnificent, leanly strong with dense, intriguing tattoos covering just about every inch of it. I’m too far away to distinguish many, but one dominates his back: an angel. The broad black wings are spread wide, the feathers edging over the curve of his biceps. He has full-length sleeves too, but because his head is slightly bowed, all I can see is a neat beard on a cut jawline. Chestnut-brown hair flops onto his forehead even when he stabs a hand through it again, his arm muscles rippling with the movement.
He is absolutely breathtaking.
My feet move before I have a chance to think it through, desperate to follow the gorgeous man who’s already disappearing towards the front door. He’s dragging the T-shirt back on his body, and even in the relative dark of the main room I can see his back muscles work, gleaming in some light from the TV screen. He has the physique of someone who works with their body on a daily basis. Who uses their strength to hone muscle and tighten abs. Who could show a woman a fucking good time.
I want to know what lucky bitch got to be with him, working up a delicious sweat. I want to torture myself with that image, wishing it were me. Because I don’t just want to proposition this man to help me out. To enrage my father and make him rethink his plans.
I want him. I want him so badly that my heart hurts.

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How Strong? Book Blitz

Rome

Our eyes connected through the chaos.
Ash’s face broke out in the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her. Her hand shot into the air in greeting. Mine only came up about halfway, but my grin couldn’t be contained. She glanced at the clock on the wall, said something to one of the other bartenders, then started filling up a tray with shot glasses. Before I knew it, she was headed in my direction, tray in tow. The crowd parted around her, making way for their favorite bartender.
My grin faded.
Only to be replaced by…a warning.
She was on the other side of the bar now. And for some reason, that gave the men in this place the idea that she was suddenly approachable. More on-limits, as opposed to when she was taking orders from behind the bar. They were openly checking out her tits in that green halter top, her ass, whispering things to their buddies, snickering in mutual agreement.
If these motherfuckers knew how many people I’d killed, they’d be shitting their pants.
This redheaded firecracker had a man. And it wasn’t any of these assholes.
Fuck.
My obsession was spiraling out of control if I was ready to murder other men just for checking her out.
I knew that murderous glare was still in place when she reached me because she pushed my frown up into a smile with two of her fingers. “There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
Cutting a look at her admirers over her shoulder, I placed a proprietary hand on her lower back. When they all sulked in disappointment, I stood a little taller. “It does now.”
“Testosterone overload.”

Like Sums? Book Blitz
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Like Sums? Book Blitz

Kelly couldn’t afford to waste more time. She booked a scooter from her app, changed into sneakers, and entered the elevator—just when Ilan ran squeezing in.
“I’ll reschedule my appointment,” he said. “Your boss needed to take care of something.” They stood close in the small elevator. Kelly breathed in his cologne, which smelled woody and spicy without being overbearing. It suited him.
He looked down at her sneakers and smiled slightly. Now that she wasn’t in heels, they were the same height.
“Let’s have coffee together, Kelly.” It wasn’t a question. “I have some time now.” He oozed confidence. He acted cocky, and his masculinity reminded Kelly that she hadn’t had a decent cock in quite a while.
Kelly looked into the serene brown-green eyes. He emitted quiet power without any conscious effort, and she fought his effect on her. “How did you know my name?”
He shrugged. “Have coffee with me”—she was treated to another charming smile— “or maybe something stronger. I’ll tell you everything.”
Kelly looked away and kept quiet. He unnerved her.
They reached the lobby. She walked faster and so he picked up his pace. They were already out in the street, Kelly reaching for her scooter, when he grabbed her elbow lightly. Kelly halted, turning, and Ilan let go of her arm. They locked stares, his cool eyes searching hers, their noses nearly touching. If she leaned a little forward, she could bite the juicy lower lip of his half-open mouth. She wondered what he would do if she did. His slight aroma of masculine sweat smelled of rosewood, and Kelly felt a desire to nuzzle against the dark chest hairs that were showing through the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.
His face was somewhat flushed, so maybe he liked her closeness too. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans, his arm almost touching her breast, and Kelly looked down and noticed a bulge, which she wanted to touch very badly. God, she needed to get herself a good fuck. Soon.
Ilan extracted a business card and handed it to her. She took it, careful not to brush his hand. It read “Ilan Ohayon, Private Investigator” in Hebrew and English. The card didn’t include a street address or a website address, just a mobile phone number.
“Please,” he said, somewhat hoarsely. Yep, he wasn’t indifferent to her. He cleared his throat. “Call me. It’s important.”
“Do you have a different card in the other pocket?” she asked. “You introduced yourself to my boss as a potential client.”
Ilan broke into a dazzling smile, one that showed white teeth and attractive wrinkles in his eyes.
“Clever girl,” he said, extracting a second business card.
Ilan Ohayon, CEO, SMA Business Solutions. This card specified a website, a landline number, a different mobile, and a street address.
“I’ll think about it.” She pocketed both cards before putting on her helmet, unlocking the scooter, and riding off. When she looked back once, Ilan hadn’t moved. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was watching her with an inscrutable expression.

Paint Over? Book Blitz
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Paint Over? Book Blitz

“How much do you owe them?” I ask.
“Three million dollars.”
I stare at him with my mouth wide open. “Dear God, Dad.”
I bend down and place my forehead on my knees, trying to control my breathing. I’m not marriage material, no one in their right mind would offer three million dollars in exchange for six months of marriage. There must be a catch.
“He’s ninety, isn’t he?” I mumble into my knees.
“I don’t know how old their Pakhan is, but I don’t think he’s ninety.”
“Eighty then. I’m so relieved.” I’m going to be sick.
“They said it’ll be a marriage in name only. You won’t have to . . . you know.”
“Sleep with him? Well, if he’s eighty, then he probably can’t have sex. That’s good. Eighty is good.”

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Brothers all: Book Blitz

EVAN, I THINK WE’RE finished for today.”
My head lifts quickly as I meet her gaze. There is a look of pity masking her smile. She can pity me. It’s understandable. If I were in her shoes I’d pity the person I am right now. I chance a look at the clock and see that I still have a few more minutes. Maybe she feels how broken I am and needs time to regroup or find someone else to fix me.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m not sure I want to go through this again with another doctor, and definitely not a military one.
The doc folds the page of her notepad over and slides it into her desk. She smiles softly. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Ryley this morning. My schedule has been cleared this week so I can help get things resolved, or heading toward a resolution. My plan is to see you and Ryley together in the next couple of days to discuss what methods need to be implemented for both of you. My concern is EJ. You need to be able to bond with him and she understands that.”
She stands, coming over to me. “My suggestion, and I didn’t tell this to Ryley, is for you to spend some time with her. She’s hurting, Evan. While you thought everything was fine, aside from the fact that you were gone for so long, she buried you and tried to move on with her life. She’s making neither heads nor tails of what’s happening right now, but give her time without letting her slip through the cracks.”
My body sighs as I stand, as if it knows I don’t have to sit in that chair anymore. My feet shuffle toward the door, leaving the doc leaning up against her desk. “Thank you,” I say before opening the door and leaving the room.
The sun is bright and penetrating when I step out of the office. I have to shield my eyes quickly before I walk out into traffic. Once my eyes adjust, I look across the street to the park hoping to see Ryley sitting over there. If she were, it’d be so much easier to talk to her right now, although the thought of bringing her to base makes more sense to me since she wouldn’t be able to run away from me. Somehow, however, I don’t think Ryley wants to be anywhere near the base – not that I can blame her. At this point, I don’t want to be there either, except it’s the only choice I have since I’m not really welcome in my own home.
With only one other destination in mind, I text the guys and ask them to meet me. We need to figure out what’s going on. Each of our situations is different, yet we’re all experiencing the same thing. I also need to bite the bullet and call my mother. I’m not sure why I haven’t yet. I guess I’ve been waiting to see if our unearthly return would make the news, but so far nothing has been reported. Every time I learn another factoid about this deployment, I’m more convinced that it was not legit.
Pulling in front of Magoo’s, it would be easy to go drown my sorrows in beer, but I need to keep a level head about the situation. If I ask the wrong person a question, who knows what could happen? As is, someone high up has taken away my life. It doesn’t matter that I’m standing here today or not. I’m not the same person and someone needs to pay.
It’s a happy relief to walk in and be surrounded by friends. The bar stools are full of patrons, men I’ve served with in the past. Tables are thrown together to make bigger spaces and the same chairs are still here. An American flag hangs on the wall with various pictures surrounding it. All these pictures have been given or sent to Rick, the owner, for display. I refuse to look at the wall that holds all our past SEALs. I know the four of us are up there or maybe Rick has taken them down. Either way, I’m not looking, at least not today.
I’ve spent many hours trying to figure out what happened and answering all the questions I could. It’s very unsettling to know that people thought you were dead.

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