Spotlight & Excerpt: Moments Like This + Giveaway

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Moments Like This (From Kona With Love)
by Anna Gomez & Kristoffer Polaha
Published by: Rosewind Books
Publication date: March 9th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

After Andrea “Andie” Matthews chooses her career over a marriage proposal and then loses a promotion she worked so hard for, she jumps at the chance to take a break and help run a friend’s coffee shop.

Alone in Hawaii, Andie befriends the staff and quickly grows to care for them, making her determined to revive the company.

As luck would have it, she meets the mysterious Warren Yates on Christmas Eve. They share a cup of coffee, some conversation, and even a moment, which leads to many more in the coming weeks.

But when Andie learns who Warren really is—and what he actually wants—she is torn between her feelings and his deception.

Will Warren be able to win her heart back?

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Excerpt:

“Are you ready to forgive yourself?”

“I …” I choked on my answer. I wanted to say yes, of course, but it wouldn’t come out.

The strange woman went on. “Well, be prepared. The islands are a special place. The Aloha Spirit. I don’t know if it’s the breeze that blows across the ocean and brushes over the land, or the fact some say the moon hangs lower in our sky. My ancestors believed it was the lava flowing underneath the surface of the ground keeping everything off balance, making it easy to fall over and into love. There is a very special energy on the islands. The old ones say that love itself was born in Hawaii. If you are brokenhearted, the islands will mend it. If you are lonely, the islands will guide you to your companion. The whole world is drawn to them—that’s why everyone takes their honeymoon in Hawaii.

“Personally, I believe it has something to do with the waves, the tidal pull, and the constant motion of the ocean. If you stand on the shore and look out at the Pacific, you will begin to feel as if you are on a boat. You become unsteady and unbalanced. My husband used to say it is the ions in the air, charged and bright and full of energy that makes everyone so eager to fall in love. He didn’t say it so politely, but you catch my meaning. So, my daughter”—I had graduated from little sister to daughter—“if you stay long enough, perhaps you too will be changed by these islands.”

“I hope so.”

We sat there silently until the plane landed and taxied. Then with one word—“Aloha”—she walked off the plane and down the steps to the tarmac.

 

Author Bio:

Kristoffer Polaha is best-known for his long starring role in the critically acclaimed series Life Unexpected (The CW). Other TV series credits include Get Shorty with Ray Romano and Chris O’Dowd, the limited series Condor opposite William Hurt and Max Irons, The CW’s Ringer (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and Valentine, as well as North Shore (FOX).

In addition to co-starring with Rainn Wilson in Backstrom (FOX), he had a multi-season role on the acclaimed series Mad Men (AMC) and Castle (ABC). Polaha is also well-known for starring in Hallmark Channel movies such as Dater’s Handbook with Meghan Markle, and the Mystery 101 franchise on Hallmark Movies & Mysteries.

Polaha first received attention for his portrayal of John F. Kennedy, Jr. in the TV movie, America’s Prince: The John F. Kennedy Jr. Story, opposite Portia de Rossi. He has appeared in numerous independent features, including Where Hope Grows, Devil’s Knot (Colin Firth, Reese Witherspoon), and the Tim Tebow film, Run the Race.

Polaha has a featured role opposite Gal Gadot in Wonder Woman 1984 and in Jurassic World: Dominion.

In addition to his work as an actor, producer, and director, Polaha is branching into the book world by co-authoring a new series. He is also involved with several charitable organizations, including being an ambassador for World Vision, a board member for HerArtsInAction, and The Polaha Family Circus Foundation.

Polaha was born in Reno, Nevada, and he is married to actress Julianne Morris. They have three sons.

Anna Gomez was born in the city of Makati, Philippines and educated abroad. She met and married her best friend who whisked her away to Chicago over twenty years ago. She is Chief Financial Officer for Leo Burnett Worldwide, a global advertising company founded in 1935. In her capacity, Anna serves on the board of several not-for-profit organizations, namely the Hugh O’Brien Leadership Organization and Girl Scouts of America. She is also the executive sponsor for a number of employee resource groups focused on Diversity and Inclusion.

Under the pen name Christine Brae, Anna has published six novels, has an established fan base, and a dedicated following. Her titles rank in the Top 100 months following their release. Her last three novels, In This Life, Eight Goodbyes, and The Year I Left, have won literary awards and were immediate bestsellers on Amazon, ranking #1 across multiple categories.

 

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Book Blitz & Excerpt: The Au Pair and the Beast + Giveaway

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The Au Pair and the Beast
Aurora Russell

Word Count: 54,799
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 205
Genres: BILLIONAIRE, CHICK LIT, CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE, FAIRYTALES

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Book Description

 

Veronica’s new job comes with a darling little boy, a Gothic castle and…a beast?

When recently laid-off Francophile Veronica Carson is recommended for an au pair job by the elegant leader of her French conversation group, she isn’t sure what to expect—but a Gothic castle deep in the wilds of Maine is certainly not it. Still, she’s drawn in by her joyful little charge, Jean-Philippe, and even more drawn to his brooding father.

Ruthlessly successful businessman Alain Reynard has loved before and has no wish to repeat the painful experience. The tragedy of his recent past is still fresh in his mind, and he wants nothing to do with his son’s lovely new au pair. Despite his best efforts, though, he can’t seem to get her off his mind.

A passionate romance begins to blossom but is put to the test when painful reminders of Alain’s past return. As ugly rumors swirl, the truths of the past and the present collide. Veronica must decide if Alain really is a beast and, if so, whether she can love him enough to break through the dark memories and secrets that tether him to what once was.

Excerpt

“Wait… He’s sending his own car and driver to pick you up from the train station? And take you to his castle? How deliciously Gothic! It’s probably set high up on some cliffs, overlooking an impossibly picturesque view of waves crashing onto the rocks.”

Veronica quirked her lips into a smile at Katrin’s words as they crackled through her cell phone, the reception seeming to go in and out as she rode along. Her best friend had a pronounced flair for the dramatic, which had only been enhanced by a number of drama classes in college.

“Well, when you put it that way…it does sound pretty glamorous,” she laughingly agreed. “If it looks anything like that, I’ll definitely text a picture of the view, complete with fog and sea spray.”

Her friend’s answering chuckle was amused. “How does Madame Montreaux know this guy again?”

Thinking back on it, Veronica wasn’t sure the woman who led her French conversation group had ever actually told her…not specifically, anyway. “Weird. I’m not really sure… She just pulled me aside after our group one day and mentioned she’d heard about a job she thought I might be perfect for, you know, since she knew I’d lost my job when Dumfries & Partners was acquired. I got the impression—maybe just from her voice or something?—that he’s some sort of family friend, but she was super skimpy on details.” She drummed her fingers on her armrest as she considered. “I had to sign a confidentiality agreement before they even sent me the job description.”

“Hmm-m.” The one short word seemed filled with both skepticism and suspicion. “How old are the kids?”

“Just one child. A boy. I think he’s four… Not in school yet, but he goes to preschool.”

Veronica watched as the increasingly rural and wooded landscape flew by outside the window. The day was gray and dreary, but the beauty of the wilds of Maine was still undeniable. The well-modulated, incongruously feminine automated voice of the announcer came over the loudspeakers.

Next stop, Grant’s Cliff. Grant’s Cliff is a flagged stop. Please notify the conductor if you are getting off at this stop.”

Excitement and nerves combined into one powerful spark that set off a flurry of butterflies in Veronica’s stomach, even as she stood and started to gather up her things.

“Sorry, K… Gotta go. They just called my stop. Call you later, okay?”

“Yes! Call, text, everything… I’ll be waiting impatiently to hear that you haven’t been chained up in this guy’s basement—or dungeon. Whatever. Be careful! And good luck!”

Cradling the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she reached for her bag from the overhead storage, Veronica barked a laugh, and it was muffled. “Thank you?”

“Anytime! Bye!”

“Bye,” Veronica answered, letting her bag drop into the seat and clicking to end the call on her phone. And it seemed it wasn’t a moment too soon as she caught the conductor’s eye and the train began to slow. She’d told him earlier where she was getting off and she was glad she had, since it didn’t look like anyone else on the train was making a move to leave. Grant’s Cliff was apparently not a popular destination.

“Right this way, miss.” The conductor’s weathered face creased into a kindly smile as he motioned her with one work-hardened hand.

“Thanks.” She gave an answering grin and slipped the strap of her suitcase over her shoulder crosswise, sliding it to her back so she could hurry down the center aisle more easily. “Am I the only one getting off?”

“A-yup,” he said, his Maine accent plain. She thought that was all he’d say, but as she stepped out of the open door onto the small platform, she heard him add, “Not much out here nowadays, apart from the castle and the beast.”

Startled, she turned back, but the doors had already swished closed and the train began to pull away. Okay then.

She turned back and surveyed the deserted station. It was really more of a booth set next to a concrete slab platform with steps leading up to it. The metal sign for the station name was no bigger than a street sign and looked weathered. The dreary day had given way to fog, and now that the train had left, the only sound was the muffled rustling of the wind through thousands of trees. Where the heck is the driver? she wondered. Even as she looked around, half of her mind was still on the conductor’s strange words. What did he mean by the beast? Why hasn’t anyone else mentioned it? Is this, like, a hotspot for sasquatch hunters? Or the home of a rogue grizzly? Wait! Are there even grizzly bears in Maine? She thought maybe there were only black bears. But still, a rogue black bear could definitely be a beast.

When someone’s gentle hand touched her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts, she screeched and jumped what felt like three feet off the ground.

“Mademoiselle Carson? Veronica Carson?” The middle-aged man’s accent was unmistakably French, and he pronounced her first name as Vehr-oh-nee-ka. She quickly raised her hand to her neck where her pulse was still racing.

“Yes,” she nodded, a little breathless. “So sorry. I didn’t hear anyone.”

The man, who she noticed now was wearing a dark suit and even a driver’s hat, smiled understandingly. “The fog. When it is thick like this, well…everything is hushed.”

“Of course, that makes sense.” She was relieved at such a simple explanation.

He held out his hand formally. “Claude Hormet, in service to Monsieur Reynard for many years.”

She held her hand to meet his, and it was immediately taken into a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you, Monsieur Hormet.”

His smile widened at her pronunciation of his name, and she thought she saw surprise flicker in his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mademoiselle. We were told you spoke French well, and I can already hear it, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you. I’m happy to switch over if you’d like, so you can really hear me.”

Monsieur Hormet smiled again. “I would enjoy that, but later. For now, I will escort you to the château.”

He took her bag from her and led her to a shiny, black Lincoln sedan that looked pristine in spite of the fact that it must have been at least thirty years old. He opened the back door, and once she’d slid onto the back seat, he gave a little bow before closing the door behind her. She didn’t even hear the trunk close after he’d put her suitcase in, and when they began to move, the ride was so smooth that it felt like they were floating.

Monsieur Hormet didn’t speak again, and sensing that it would possibly be considered too informal for her to initiate conversation, Veronica maintained silence as well. Instead, she took out her folder with a copy of her resume and list of references. She reviewed her notes again, but they were sparse. From the barebones details that had accompanied the job description, she really didn’t know a lot about the open position and still didn’t know anything more about her prospective employer than his last name, so she rehearsed again in her head what she could say about her experience.

She was so deep in thought, comfortable on the sumptuous leather of the seats, that she didn’t really look up until the car began to slow. Then…wow. The mansion that loomed before her was truly a castle, made of stone with towers and turrets. If it had had a moat and not located in Maine, she would not have been surprised if someone had told her it was from the Middle Ages.

She must have made some sort of sound because Monsieur Hormet caught her gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Ah, the château is beautiful, no?”

Looking back at the lines of the massive structure, Veronica noticed that they were surprisingly delicate as well. Large it might be, but this was also a masterpiece of artistry, balanced and elegant. Still trying to look at every part of the castle at the same time, she answered with enthusiasm, “Oh yes, absolutely gorgeous!”

They pulled up right to the front steps, and Monsieur Hormet came around to help her out of the car. The air that buffeted her face was cooler than at the train station, damp and heavy, carrying the unmistakable salty tang of the ocean. She curved her lips into a small smile when she heard the distant crash of waves on something. Katrin was going to be overjoyed that her guess had to be at least partly correct.

“If you’ll follow me, Mademoiselle, I’ll show you to the large salon.” Monsieur Hormet glanced at the front windows and nodded slightly at some small movement inside. “Eveline will let Monsieur Reynard know you’ve arrived.”

Still craning her neck as discreetly as possible to see everything at once, Veronica followed him up a large number of stone steps and into the château. She had only a glimpse of the enormous entry hall before they went down a spacious hallway into a room that looked like some sort of formal parlor. There were several seating areas around the room, and he motioned for her to sit in a straight-backed armchair in the cluster nearest to the windows. Even with the fog, she could still tell that the windows here overlooked the ocean. A gray-green expanse of icy-cold Atlantic water, the view looked imposing rather than inviting. She loved it.

Fighting the urge to press her nose to the glass of the windowpanes, she sat down on the chair instead in what she hoped was a professional, dignified manner. She took out the folder once again and waited. An ornate gilded clock, which looked like an antique that would have been at home in the art museum in Boston, ticked, and the sound was loud in the otherwise-silent room. At the snick of the door handle turning, she leaped to her feet and turned to greet her interviewer. The figure that entered was considerably shorter and faster than she’d expected, though.

As he barreled toward her at full tilt, Veronica saw that the little boy had a mass of golden-blond hair, bright blue eyes and cheeks that glowed pink with good health. His happy face was dominated by a huge grin. She braced for possible impact, but he stopped abruptly right in front of her and eyed her curiously.

“You’re pretty,” he said in French, “but I don’t like your coat. I’m not supposed to say ‘hate’ or ‘ugly’.” He looked up at her expectantly.

Veronica stifled a laugh as she darted a glance down at her suit coat. It was something she’d bought for interviews, and she internally agreed that it wasn’t the most attractive thing she owned—more about practicality than fashion. But still…

“It sounds like you’re doing a good job listening, then,” she answered in French, skirting around the question. She set her folder, which she’d still been clutching, on the seat of the chair and crouched down so she was eye-level with the boy. “What’s your name? Mine is Veronica.”

“Jean-Philippe. Yvette says you’re here to take care of me, but only if Papa likes you. I don’t have a maman. She died. Our dog died too. Sometimes I get sad and cry and Papa says that’s okay.” Veronica’s heart clenched at the childish words, but she fought another laugh at what he said next. “Did you bring a present? Papa always brings a present and hides it in one of his pockets. Oncle Marius too. Is that why you’re wearing that coat, to hide presents?” He eyed her outfit with more enthusiasm.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jean-Philippe,” she answered, then shook her head regretfully. “I didn’t know, so no presents today, but I promise that if I stay, I’ll bring you something next time I go into town. How’s that?”

He bobbed his little head as he nodded, making his fine blond hair glint, even in the dim sunlight from the gloomy day. “That sounds good,” he agreed. “I hope you go to town soon.”

She couldn’t have hidden her smile this time if she’d tried, so she didn’t bother. Another noise made her look up again, toward the door, where a young woman stood, looking a bit harried. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as if she’d been running. She wore some sort of uniform dress, not black-and-white but something about it made Veronica think she might be a maid or housekeeper. Her look at Jean-Philippe was a mix of exasperation and affection.

The man who entered on her heels, though, made Veronica shoot to her feet and straighten her back. He was tall, probably close to six-and-a-half feet, and his shoulders and chest were broad and muscular. He wore a suit that must have been custom-tailored to fit his large frame so perfectly, and he exuded an air of pure power. Confidence. She would have had to be blind or utterly oblivious not to feel an awareness of such a man.

Where his frame and his very presence seemed to fill the room, it was his face that really captivated her. Dark, wavy hair framed the most attractive face she thought she’d ever seen. He wasn’t what she would call handsome—his Roman nose was just a little too prominent—but his features were masculine, strong and absolutely stunning. His eyes, which she could tell even from this distance were a deep brown like melted dark chocolate and framed with thick dark lashes, seemed to see all the way into her from across the room. She felt goosebumps rise on her arms and up her neck, and she couldn’t seem to tear her own gaze away.

When he started to move, whatever spell that was keeping her silent was broken. To her surprise, she noticed that he walked with a cane in steps that looked like they carefully concealed pain.

“Oh, Monsieur, I’m so sorry. He got away from me when he was supposed to be following me,” the young woman apologized to the man who she guessed must be Monsieur Reynard.

He inclined his head slightly, and although his face remained impassive, Veronica somehow got the impression of tolerance.

“I understand, Yvette. You may return to your regular duties.” His voice was deep and rumbling, full of gravel. It rolled through the quiet room, filling every corner, though he spoke quietly.

The young woman gave a little bow and hurried from the room gratefully, leaving only Veronica, Jean-Philippe and Monsieur Reynard.

“Papa!” the little boy exclaimed, confirming Veronica’s guess at the identity of the man. She saw him grimace almost imperceptibly as his little boy crashed into his leg in a show of preschool affection.

“I see you’ve met Miss Carson, my son,” he said, looking at Veronica as he tousled the baby-fine mop of hair.

“Oh yes! Do you like her? Is she staying?”

The question fell heavily in the quiet room, and Veronica turned to pick up the folder again.

“I brought a copy of my resume and a list of references—”

“No need.” Monsieur Reynard interrupted her, gesturing with his hand as if to wave her words away. “I’ve seen enough. The job is yours.”

Veronica’s mouth fell open. “I, uh… We just met.”

He raised his dark eyebrows. “So we did.”

She shook her head. Why was he making her so unsettled? Good Heavens, she was usually more articulate than this! “I mean, you haven’t interviewed me. Don’t you want to know…more?”

He shrugged and inclined his head to one side. “Mademoiselle, I’m known for being a good judge of character, with very few exceptions. It’s part of what has made me so successful. Jean-Philippe needs someone who is good with children, experienced and speaks French. From what I heard, you are all of these things.”

Veronica felt a warm flush rising up her neck, straight to her cheeks then right on up to her hairline. For some reason, the idea of not being aware of this man, with his outsize presence, made her beyond flustered. “You were listening?” she asked in a voice that was, she congratulated herself, almost normal.

He shrugged in a wonderfully Mediterranean way. “Not on purpose, but the door was cracked open and sound carries down the hallway.”

Mentally replaying her conversation with Jean-Philippe, Veronica couldn’t figure out what she could possibly have said to warrant this instant acceptance. “And I said enough to give you such confidence?”

She thought she had gotten over her initial shock of awareness at how very handsome he was, like someone jumping into cold water who starts acclimating. She was wrong. When he turned the full force of his dark, soulful eyes on her and turned up the corners of his mouth in what might have been the beginnings of a smile, she nearly had to catch her breath. She felt the goosebumps rise again all over her arms.

“You did pass the background check with flying colors, and you must know your accent is beautiful. But mostly, you didn’t miss a beat when my son insulted your er…ensemble.” He motioned tactfully to her suit and she opened her mouth in indignation, only to snap it shut at his next words. “I truly believe you to be a young woman of good sense, patience and kindness. Those are qualities I value beyond all others.”

His praise warmed her and was so close to describing the kind of person she hoped she was that she felt like another piece clicked into the odd connection she might be starting to feel with him.

“Thank you. In that case, I accept the position.” He didn’t return her smile, but she thought maybe his eyes crinkled the slightest bit at the corners.

“I’ll have Monsieur Hormet bring in the paperwork. Come along, Jean-Phillipe,” he said, turning and making his slow, deliberate way to the door with a gait she suspected concealed very-well-hidden pain. Jean-Philippe overtook him to sprint out of the door before his father.

All in all, Veronica was feeling pretty darn satisfied and relieved at avoiding the stress of a real interview when she heard Monsieur Reynard’s last words before he left the room.

“Such a relief to meet a young woman who doesn’t trouble herself too much over her clothes.”

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About the Author

Aurora Russell

Aurora is originally from the frozen tundra of the upper-Midwest (ok, not frozen all the time!) but now loves living in New England with her real-life hero/husband, two wonderfully silly sons, and one of the most extraordinary cats she has ever had the pleasure to meet. But she still goes back to the Midwest to visit, just never in January.

She doesn’t remember a time that she didn’t love to read, and has been writing stories since she learned how to hold a pencil. She has always liked the romantic scenes best in every book, story, and movie, so one day she decided to try her hand at writing her own romantic fiction, which changed her life in all the best ways.

You can find out more about Aurora at her website here.

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Book Blitz & Excerpt: Wicked Ways + Giveaway

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Wicked Ways
by Angela Addams

Word Count: 54,720
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 211
Genres: ACTION AND ADVENTURE, BONDAGE AND BDSM, CONTEMPORARY, CRIME AND MYSTERY, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, EROTIC ROMANCE, THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

 

A night with him was only meant to be a release, not an awakening.

Adam Lancaster, right-hand man and security expert for Cowan Enterprises, is called back home to help his family save their ranch from a gang of debt collectors.

While he’s there, he’s reunited with his childhood nemesis, Missy Alderton. Missy, once a tomboy, is all grown up and sexy as hell. She’s also the town’s sheriff, a kick-ass law enforcement officer who is determined to bring down the criminal elements that threaten more than just Adam’s family. Since they both have the same goal, it would seem they’d be able to work together, but Missy knows all about Adam’s years of working for the infamous Sabine Cowan, and she doesn’t approve of his methods of fixing problems.

Missy hasn’t seen Adam in five years, not since the night she seduced him as a little payback for things he’d done when they were younger. She got him all hot and bothered and walked away, vowing never to touch the man again. Now that he’s back in town, she keeps trying to convince herself that she’s not interested in spending too much close and personal time with Adam. That’s what her mouth is saying, but her body, on the other hand, can’t seem to get enough of him. Adam is trouble and he’s threatening everything she’s built in Grimshield, including the walls around her heart.

With so much at stake, Adam must convince Missy that sometimes you have to break a lot of rules to get what your heart desires.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of public sex, emotional abuse and kidnapping.

Excerpt

Five years before

The second Adam locked eyes with the mysterious woman dressed up as a dark angel, he knew he was about to get fucked…in all the right ways.

Sure, he was wearing a lame-ass pirate costume that was at least two sizes too small for his bulky frame, and yeah, he wasn’t supposed to be at the Halloween party to begin with, but this woman was staring at him like she wanted to eat him alive. Adam just knew that she’d come for him. He didn’t know how he knew. It could have been the way her eyes drilled right into him, smoldering and full of lust, and completely locked on his. Or maybe it was her skimpy little costume, all tight-looking black leather, holding on to her curves in a way that made his dick weep—and totally the kind of getup that would drive him wild. Then again, perhaps it was simply the pulse of his aching cock, acting as some kind of lightning rod for a horny female in his sights that had him so sure. This woman was a totally dangerous kind of hot, and she was all his.

The room was completely packed with people, but Adam’s dick was at full attention, straining against the flimsy fabric of his costume, so ready to sink into her. He’d thought the party was going to be lame. Man, was I wrong.

When he started to get up from his seat, she shot him a look that let him know he needed to stay put. She was coming to him.

Oh yeah, baby.

The party was pumping. The music was loud, the bass thumping hard and drinks were flowing. Adam was feeling really fucking good watching this woman come toward him. The crowd moved around her as she approached. Her hips swayed and the wings jutting from her back moved with her, making it seem like she was actually flying toward him. Everything she was wearing was black, from her halo to her sexy-as-hell stilettos—everything except for her pouty lips, which were painted a deep cherry red. Adam licked his lips. He bet she’d taste like cherries too. She had a halter-top vest on that had a zipper down the front. One zip down and her tits would spill right out. Fuck, he wished she’d move faster. He wanted her on his dick, and he had no problem with fucking her right there in the corner of the room. No one would notice, and if they did, they definitely wouldn’t care.

She lifted her hands, running them along her hips and up her sides. Her tits weren’t huge, but she had enough cleavage to make his mouth drool, thinking about licking all that soft, flawless skin. She moved to the side to avoid another girl who was dancing, and it gave Adam a nice view of her rear. Her ass was just visible under that skirt of hers, like one tug up and she’d be exposed. He was praying she wasn’t wearing panties. Fuuuuck, please let her be bare.

She was sex. Pure sex. And even though she was wearing a mask over her eyes, Adam somehow just knew he’d never met her before. She wasn’t from Grimshield. No way. He knew all the girls around town. Even though he’d been gone for ten years, he knew he’d never met this one before he’d left Montana. Besides, this party was a high-school reunion of sorts, and he was sure he hadn’t gone to school with her. He would have remembered a girl like that.

He had to wonder, though, just where she’d come from.

The room was packed. There were so many bodies moving to the music and she was only a few feet away. He was sitting on a sofa chair, like a king, just watching over everyone, waiting for the gorgeous creature to make another move.

And when she got close enough, she stopped, but just for a second—long enough to give him a once-over that confirmed everything he already believed. She was going to ride his dick right there, right now. He was the luckiest guy alive.

She climbed onto his lap. No hesitation… She just hiked her skirt, flashed her lacy pink panties and climbed on up. Adam’s dick was weeping for real. Her pussy was so hot that he could feel it radiating against his pants. She was wet.

She didn’t speak. She just leaned in and kissed him, the fiercest kiss he’d had in a while. Her tongue was in his mouth, stroking him, and all he could think about was how good it felt…and how great her lips would be around his cock. All that cherry-red lipstick surrounding his dick? Yeah, super fucking hot.

She broke the kiss and looked down at him, her dark eyes full of lust and determination. She held up a condom that she’d pulled from fuck-knew-where and had her other hand playing with the zipper on her vest.

This was a sure thing. A quick fuck. His heart was hammering so hard, his dick was pulsing and he was desperate for the heat of her pussy. He grunted something meant to be affirmative, not trusting his voice to come out right.

She unzipped her vest. Her tits were glorious, a handful of flawless porcelain. Her nipples were ripe little berries. Adam was all hands and lips, sucking on her sweet buds, playing with her until she was rubbing herself against him. And when he slipped one hand between her legs, fuck, she was so damn wet, soaking her panties so much that he could have wept with joy.

It was so fucking hot—her little moans and purrs in his ear, the way she bit her bottom lip and how her hips moved when he yanked the panties aside and slipped his fingers into her tight, wet hole. It was a fucking fantasy come alive. This night could not get any more perfect.

Until it did.

She tugged at the flimsy drawstring of his costume and his dick came out like it was spring-loaded. It was hard and slick with pre-cum, and he was dying for her to suck him off. But her lips didn’t come close. Her hands were all over his cock, rubbing him so good that he could have spewed just from that. But she shifted herself back, ripped the condom package with her teeth then slipped it onto his aching cock so fast that he barely had time to think about it. He pulled his fingers out of her and sucked down the taste of her. Their eyes were locked. She was totally in it with him. She tasted like heaven and he wanted more.

Her eyes were drilling him as she lifted her hips and rammed herself hard onto his dick, right down his shaft until he was completely sheathed to the hilt. The sexiest fucking smile curled her lips and she slowly drew her body back, rubbing his cock until she was almost off him before sliding to the hilt again. Yes, she was totally going to fuck his brains out.

This…this was a night for the record books.

There they were, surrounded by other people, and this amazingly gorgeous creature was riding him like her life depended on it. Her sweet little pussy was so damn tight that it was like a leather glove squeezing his dick each time she rolled her hips. And her tits? They were right at his mouth, so he had to suck them in. His hands were on her ass, moving her harder, faster. Then she leaned in closer, so close that her lips were at his ear and she moaned a long, sexy sound. Her pussy was doing a spasmy thing of the most intense ripples and he realized that she was coming so fucking hard. So he let loose too, just let his climax go and filled the fucking condom.

He had his hands on her hips and he pulled her down to kiss those sweet lips again, but she pushed back, her hands on his chest to stop him.

“Nah-uh, big boy,” she purred.

He looked up at her, his mind fuzzy, feeling euphoric, wanting to know who this sexy woman was and where they could go for round two.

“What’s your name, baby?

She just got a smile on her lips and pushed herself up and off him before adjusting her skirt. She did up her vest next, concealing her glorious tits from his view.

He moved forward, doing his best to stop her from leaving him, his dick still hard, wanting more.

“Come on, honey. Tell me who you are.” No way this girl was leaving without giving him her digits.

She laughed, leaned in close and said, “Why don’t you just call me Ugly Duckling, Adam?”

Adam froze. The smile slid from his lips. Clarity came like a slap to the face. There was only one girl he’d ever said something so vile to. “Missy?”

The curl to her lips turned into a sneer, all the answer he needed. Then she spun on those impossibly high heels and walked away.

He watched the crowd swallow her.

He’d just been fucked all right, by the one girl who hated his guts. The last time he’d seen Missy Alderton, she had not looked like a sex goddess. When he’d seen her, she’d been a scrawny teenager and a pain in his ass. Now at almost ten years later, Missy had definitely grown up, and she was sure as shit not an ugly duckling.

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About the Author

Angela Addams

Angela Addams is an author of many naughty things. She believes that the written word is an amazing tool for crafting the most erotic of scenarios and likes telling stories about normal people getting down and dirty and falling in love. Enthralled by the paranormal at an early age, Angela also spends a lot of her time thinking up new story ideas that involve supernatural creatures in everyday situations.

She is an avid tattoo collector, a total book hoarder, and loves anything covered in chocolate…except for bugs.

She lives in Ontario, Canada in an old, creaky house, with her husband, children and four moody cats.

Sign up to Angela’s newsletter and check out her blog and website. You can follow Angela on Instagram and Pinterest, and find her at Amazon, Bookbub and Books & Main.

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ANGELA ADDAMS IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GET YOUR FREE ANGELA ADDAMS ROMANCE BOOK! Notice: This competition ends on 9th March 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.