Ari Daniels didn’t count on her whole world tumbling down around her in a mess of shredded promises, broken love, and unbelievable heartbreak. Alone and stricken with grief, she shouldered the blame and eventually closed her heart off, refusing to open it for another. After all, anytime she tried, guilt and regret were waiting in the wings to remind her how painful it was. A bet and one steamy night with a stranger force Ari to confront all she’s been hiding behind. She tries to move on, but he refuses to stand down, wanting what she is terrified to give—herself. This man may very well destroy her in the end, especially when it’s clear he has his own demons. What happens when two broken souls come together, finally allowing themselves to believe in the beauty of love … only to have to fight harder than ever to keep it.
AVAILABLE NOWAmazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | BN | iBooks | KoboHis eyes get hard for a beat before his features smooth back out. “Yeah, beyond sure. No one to pass this shit down to, and even if there was, I wouldn’t be givin’ someone ideas of materialistic bullshit if I did. More to life than all this shit.” “Okay, well, in that case …” I cough, not wanting to fight with him about our views when it comes to expensive wants versus needs. Last time I tried to argue the benefits of learning to care for and value something you work hard to buy, I had a black eye for almost two weeks. “In that case, I’m prepared to offer you a lump sum as a buyout for the whole collection, but I also want to mention, again, that consignment would be a more lucrative approach. Our buyout is just a standard percent of resale value, but consignment would allow us to mark up each to give you a larger profit.” “Told you, babe, want it gone. I don’t give a shit about making it more lucrative. Look around you, hardly hurting.” “Still, it’s my obligation to make sure you’re informed.” “Consider me informed.” “Okay … so I can offer a tentative amount of three million. I would need more time to inspect each item in depth for any defects that could affect the value and also to research a few pieces I feel may be limited editions so that could also affect the value. Meaning that amount could go up or down, but I wouldn’t expect it to be less than two point five or more than four point seven-ish. I wouldn’t need but maybe five days tops, and I can come during the day if that works better for your schedule.” “You get this gone in two days, and I’ll take one mil.” My whole body jerks back as if I had been slapped, staring at him like he was absolutely insane. “That’s absolutely insane,” I tell him, voicing my thoughts. “No, that’s me not giving a shit and wanting it gone so I can get out of this place and sell it and all this shit some hand with care placed around each room. Woulda left this shit in and sold it with the house, but for some reason I’ll never understand, you’re here, and I still just want it gone. You don’t need five days when I’m taking a two mil hit, babe. That would waste your time and mine, and I’m not a huge fan of wasting my time. Way I see it, you win, and I get a cold mil for some shit I didn’t buy nor care about. So you get this shit outta here, and all I need is that.” “Thorn, I can’t in good conscience accept that.” “Then dirty that conscience up and laugh your tight little ass all the way to the bank. Don’t give a shit as long as it’s gone, and I don’t have to do anything to make it that way.” “This is insanity.” “Insanity would be tossing it all at the Goodwill drop-off. I’m making money. You’re making money. Only thing sweeter than making money is doing it while I’m getting my cock wet, and babe, that only happens when my stock rises at the same time my cock does.” He steps closer, and I back into the island, my chest burning as I hold my breath. “Course, never had four mil worth of shit to sell to a woman who makes my cock rise without even trying.” “Thorn,” I whisper, placing my hand against his hard chest with the intention of pushing him back. Only, the second his warmth burns through his shirt and hits my skin, I can’t move an inch. “Ari,” he mocks, his eyes bright. “I, uh, the paperwork …” I close my eyes and focus on my breaths and the words my mouth can’t seem to form. When my heart slows enough that I won’t die of a heart attack right here in heaven, I look back up at him. “You’re breaking my brain, Thorn. Please step back so I can think clearly without my body trying to die on me.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he continues to gaze down at me, but he does step back. My arm falling down to my side. “As much as I wish I could have this room cleared out for you tomorrow, it will take at least until late Monday. I’ll need to meet with you beforehand to have some legal paperwork signed for the sale due to its size. But my lawyer is an old family friend, so I can have that by tomorrow around dinnertime, if you wouldn’t mind meeting me to take care of that. I won’t be able to get the cashier’s check until after those are signed, so late Monday is the best I can offer you.” “Want this shit gone, but it’s hardly a hardship to wait a few more days if that means I’ve got a few more opportunities to try to make you want me as much as you want this shit around you,” he says, his deep voice thick with desire. “Good heavens, you don’t stop, do you?” “Not unless you beg, babe.” “I think it’s best we went back to keeping things professional, Mr. Evans.” This time, it isn’t a ghost of a smile on his lips. Oh, no. Not this time. If I thought he was handsome before this moment, I was a fool. Because Thorn Evans giving you his full, unhindered smile and a gaze so thick with unspoken promise as it washes over you and creates a fire of the desire you already felt … well, that expression on him turns him from sinfully hot to heart-stopping and irresistible instantly. “It would take me five minutes to get you to beg me for it, Ms. Daniels. Admit it.” Offended at the thought that I’m easy, I narrow my eyes. Finally. At least anger is an emotion I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with. “I’m not sure what kind of women you’re used to, but I promise you, I am not that type of woman.” “Maybe three,” he oddly says, ignoring me. “Three, what?” I snap. “Minutes, sweetness. Three minutes and you’d be begging me for all this shit and my cock.” My mouth flounders, and I gasp. “Though, pretty sure I could get that in less than a minute and get you doin’ all the work while I watch from my back.” My arm is up, palm cracking against his cheek before I have the ability to do anything to stop it. “I think we’re done here.” I walk around him, ready to find my way out and let him find someone else to take all of this off his hands even if it kills a little part of my lux loving soul. When his hand curls around my bicep—not painfully, but firm enough to make me stop—I look over my shoulder with a frown. For a man who was just slapped, he looks almost gleeful. “One minute, Ari. Give me a minute and if you aren’t ready to beg me for it, when those sixty seconds are up, you can take this shit and not give me a penny for it.” Walk away, Ari. Walk. Away. No amount of money is worth being some man’s whore. Spinning away from his hold, I jerk my arm free and step toward him with a roll up to my toes, getting my face as close to his as I can. His scent overwhelms me. The subtle notes of his cologne fog my rational thought, making me drunk with need, and I sway slightly before correcting myself. “Thirty seconds,” I retort, my jaw tight with stubbornness. I’m not sure who I shocked more—him or me. I have my answer, though, when I see victory flash in his eyes. Oh, my God … what have I done? “You’re on,” he agrees, his eyes alight with the promise backed up by his devilish grin. I nod, incapable of anything more. I stand there in shocked silence as he takes my phone, his thick fingers moving quickly over the screen. I vaguely hear a chime from his pocket and before I can so much as blink, he’s handing me my things. “Tomorrow, I’ll text you. Paperwork first, then you beg.” I gulp, jerk my head in what I hope resembles a nod of agreement, and then … I flee. Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn't writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand. Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page
Michelle's Review
Unconscious Hearts by Harper Sloan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars Y’all.... you’re going to fall in love with this one. In true Harper style you get a little of everything. It’s cute, funny, has great characters, drama and it’s very sexy. Ari and Thorn both have baggage. He’s never had a relationship always the ladies man and it’s taken her years to get over her broken engagement. Together they help each other heal and finally begin to start over. One thing I love about this author is not only does she give us great stories with wonderful leading characters but she also gives us secondary characters that we immediately fall in love with. I was so engrossed with this that I didn’t stop once I started it. I loved that Thorn is a crazy alpha and how Ari responses to him. I loved it, it’s a definite must read. View all my reviews
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In this second of the sultry, Western-set Coming Home series from New York Times bestselling author Harper Sloan, Quinn Davis might finally have a shot at her own happily-ever-after—but will she let love in, or will she tell it to go ahead and kiss her boots? Quinn Davis prefers to live her life quietly. She’s the stereotypical tomboy with two overprotective big brothers who have always been there to protect her, especially from devilishly handsome cowboys with silver tongues. That is, until Tate Montgomery comes riding into town. Their first meeting, however, is far from something out of a fairy tale and only further convinces Quinn that men aren’t worth her time. The only place Tate Montgomery ever truly felt at home growing up was during the long, sweltering summer months he spent at his Gram and Paw’s farm in Pine Oak, Texas. Now, Tate has returned to his childhood sanctuary seeking a fresh start—but if he’s being entirely honest, he’s not just back for the wranglers and Stetsons. During those summers, Quinn was a friend-turned-young-love who Tate lost when life threw him a curveball and he cut all ties to his past; but all it takes is one glance at the raven-haired beauty he did his best to forget for him to realize just how much he’s been missing….
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA | BN | Kobo | iBooks | BAM | Google[video width="1080" height="1080" mp4="http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/6-nothing-will-IG-animated.mp4"][/video] Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn't writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand. Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page
Michelle's review
Kiss My Boots by Harper Sloan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars Absolutely love Grease and Starch! I'm really liking this series, but what's not to like. Cowboys throwing darlings around does a lot to the female organs... just saying. Quinn is a wonderful character. She's funny, smart and strong. She's loved the same boy since she was eleven. He was her first crush, first kiss her first everything. They spent every summer together but when he left that last summer never to return her heart broke. When Tate left Quinn that last summer he had every intention of returning. But he didn't. He never forgot her or allowed anyone else in his heart. Nine years have passed and finally he is going back for her and what belongs to him. Will she forgive him and let him back in? These characters are wonderful! I especially love Quinn, she definitely has a way with words and you can't help but fall in love with them both. Their story is a second chance and it's absolutely beautiful. As always Harper has a way of telling you a story that will have you begging for more. And I am.... begging for more!
In Lost Rider, the first Western romance in New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Harper Sloan’s Coming Home series, an injured rodeo star encounters an old flame but will she be just what he needs to get back in the saddle? Maverick Austin Davis is forced to return home after a ten-year career as a rodeo star. After one too many head injuries, he’s off the circuit and in the horse farming business, something he’s never taken much of a shine to, but now that it’s his late father’s legacy, familial duty calls. How will Maverick find his way after the only dream he ever had for himself is over? Enter Leighton Elizabeth James, an ugly duckling turned beauty from Maverick’s childhood—his younger sister’s best friend, to be exact, and someone whose heart he stomped all over when she confessed her crush to him ten years back. Now Leighton is back in Maverick’s life, no longer the insecure, love-stricken teen—and Maverick can’t help but take notice. Sparks fly between them, but will Leighton be able to open her heart to the one man who broke it all those years ago? Written in the vein of Diana Palmer and Lindsay McKenna, this Texas-set series is filled with sizzle, heart, and plenty of cowboys!
Amazon US | Amazon US paperback | Audible | Amazon UK | Amazon AU |Amazon CA | BN | Kobo | iBooks | BAM | GoogleI should tell Quinn and Clay that he’s here. But one look at him and it’s like the last ten years have never passed and I’m back at the bonfire, the awkward high schooler uncomfortable in her own skin. Marching away from him in the woods. It was the last time I saw him. How is it possible that he can affect me this much after all this time? He hasn’t noticed me, not with his head bowed, so I quickly turn around and focus on Pastor John as he finishes up his prayer. Him being here means nothing. I should be happy that I remember the pain from that night so well, it will make keeping my walls up around him so much easier. “On behalf of the Davis family, I want to thank everyone for coming today. At this time, the family has asked for some time alone as they say their good-byes. They wanted me to remind everyone that the PieHole will be opening up for a few hours tonight starting at five for anyone that wishes to join them.” I keep my arm around Quinn, not looking back to where I saw Maverick. I can hear the church slowly emptying and I feel a frown pull at my lips. I had hoped that when everyone started to leave that he would have come up front to be with his family, but so far, the pew we’re in is still empty save for the three of us. We sit and wait for everyone to leave, something that Clay had asked Pastor John to make arrangements for in place of the customary recessional, knowing that no one in this town would really mean a word of it anyway. Plus, I know Quinn is having a hard time. Regardless of the fact that she wasn’t the closest with her father, she was really counting on this—Maverick home. She’s still shaking in my arms, but when I look over at Clay I realize his silence isn’t because of the heaviness of Buford’s death, but instead anger over his brother’s absence that has started to build to a boil. I fear that he’s seconds away from tipping over the edge. I stand when Clay and Quinn do, but hang back at the edge of the row we had been sitting in as they meet Pastor John and gather their father’s ashes. I can’t wait to get out of these heels. If it would have been acceptable to wear my boots, I would have, but Quinn would have killed me. As it is, I feel like I can’t take a deep breath with how tight my dress is against my chest. I never wear tight shirts. I haven’t since my boobs became beasts of their own right. I’m too busy fiddling with the straps of my dress, trying desperately to get some of the pressure against my chest to ease up so I could take a deep breath, when I heard Quinn gasp. “Mav!” Next thing I know she’s running past where I’m standing, her black hair streaming in the air behind her as she speeds forward right into her brother’s arms. Clay moves to stand next to me and I look up to meet his green eyes, the questions he isn’t vocalizing dancing in their emerald depths. He’s not stupid and I’m doing a crappy job at hiding the memories haunting me right now. He gives me a small smile, shifting his hold on the urn to wrap his free arm around me and pulls me into a strong hold. “You’re shakin’,” he says against my temple and I just nod. “I’m good, Clay. Go see your brother.” “I’m fine right where I am, sugar.” I keep my eyes to the ground, focusing on his worn boots instead of looking up, hating myself for making this moment about me when I should be focused on them. Like it or not, I can’t fight the feelings that being near him bring me. I’m that stupid, naive sixteen-year-old all over again. “Let’s get out of here,” he says after a few silent seconds. I look up and give him a smile, hoping that it looks a hell of a lot braver than I feel. Inside I feel like I might puke. “You think I could have a second with my family?” My head shoots up at the coldness I hadn’t anticipated in Maverick’s voice. He’s not focused on me, though, instead looking at his brother with a hard expression and one brow raised upward. “Mav!” Quinn gasps and he moves his attention from his brother to her. “Sorry, Quinn, but I’m thinkin’ that Clay’s lady friend would understand that this should be a moment for our family and give us time alone.” “I’ll just—” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, sugar,” Clay all but spits through clenched teeth and drops his arm to take a step forward. “You’ve got something to say, Mav, then say it.” “Nothing to say, Clayton, I just think it would be nice for your girlfriend to give us some space.” “My girlfriend,” he parrots sarcastically, his deep voice vibrating in anger. “Mav.” Quinn attempts to butt in, but stops when Maverick leaves her side and turns to stalk out of the church. I should find it comical that he obviously didn’t recognize me, or hell, maybe he did and he’s just picking up where he left off ten years ago in the middle of the dark woods. I take a deep breath. “It’s okay. He’s right. Y’all need some time as a family. I’ll head over to the PieHole and start settin’ up for tonight.” Quinn brushes a tear from her cheek and just shakes her head. I look at Clay to see him staring in the direction that his brother just left. “You’re family,” he finally says, not looking in my direction. “Clay, really, it’s okay. It’s been a long time since y’all were back together and I don’t need to be there for that reunion. It sucks that it takes all of this to finally bring him home, but he’s here and y’all need to make up for a lot of time lost.” “Shut up, Leighton.” “Don’t, Clay.” “Don’t what? You’ve got every right to be here. You’re just as much a part of our family as he is. Hell, maybe even more so than he is at this point. So just shut up, come with us, and ignore him.” I shake my head, the fight instantly leaving my sails, knowing I would be arguing until the end of time if I pressed this issue. “I can’t believe he doesn’t even recognize you,” Quinn whispers. Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn't writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand. Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page
Lost Rider by Harper Sloan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars Absolute Beautiful! Lost Rider is a beautiful, amazing and heartfelt second chance read. I found myself getting lost in Harper's words. They are riveting, powerful and downright divine. The death of Maverick's father being him home after being away for ten years. His career pretty much over he is ready to start over. When he left years ago the only thing he left beside his brother and sister was her..... the one he always loved. Hurtful words left their relationship strained but now he is hoping to put that behind them. Leighton has only loved one man. He broke her and now ten years later he's back. She has a successful business and wonderful friends the last thing she needs is him. But, when she comes face to face with him again she knows he will always have her heart. This is a great start to what is going to be an amazing series. Lost Rider is really an exceptional book with outstanding writing, wonderful characters and a story that will take your breath away. It's definitely one of my favorites so far this year and can't wait to see where we go next with this series.
Signing with Brighthouse Records was supposed to be everything we ever wanted—our better life. Our chance at everything we never had but always wanted. All our dreams would finally come true and we were on top of the world. It was our chance at the happiness we never had in life. Our every desire was at our fingertips and the power of that feeling was all consuming. But then it took every dream we thought would come true and it slapped us in the face with the cold hard reality. Dreams were just that…something that floated on the cusp of untouchable, taunting you with every graze of your fingertips before slipping even further away. Happiness…that feeling is a joke. In the end it became painfully obvious that each of us would always have each other, but we would forever be alone.
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Nook | Kobo | iTunesGoddamn, that smile is dangerous. Who am I kidding? He is dangerous. I do my best to ignore him, but it’s impossible. The steady brush of his arm against where mine is resting on our shared armrest constantly reminds me how much my body wants his touch. The scent of his delicious cologne hits my senses, making me want to climb in his lap and rub my face over his chest to get a potent lungful of it. I can’t even remember the last time I was this horny, which is pathetically sad, since it was probably around the same time I actually got laid. Years. I think. Close to three. Maybe that’s why I’m a hot mess lately. I turn my head to study the side of his face and wonder if I can use this situation to my advantage. I mean, after all, we are in a ‘relationship’ now. He turns and gives me a questioning arch of his dark brows, but I brush it off in favor of playing Disney Emoji Blitz on my phone. By the time we had hit cruising altitude, I could hear the other men around me snoring away but not Chance. He’s fiddling with his phone, completely ignorant of the fact I’m about to start humping his leg. “Excuse me,” I breathily say, unbuckling my belt and standing to move around him. I stand there, my head bent slightly because of the overhead, and wait. He doesn’t move, though. Instead, he drops his phone to his lap and gives me his complete attention; his eyes even dance a little like he’s finding this whole damn thing funny. “Excuse me,” I repeat, no longer breathy, and seconds away from coming. No, that’s a lie. I’m still breathy and very much seconds away from soaking my panties even more than they already are. His large hands grab my hips, and he guides me down on his lap with no resistance from my treacherous body. “Not what I meant,” I say through clenched teeth, trying to sound harsh and offended, but I just sound dazed and turned on. I wiggle in his hold, trying to get free, but he’s too strong for me. He leans up in his seat, his chest hitting my back and buries his face in my neck. I’m sure anyone who saw us would see a loving couple who just can’t keep their hands to themselves. He’s playing a dangerous game, though, because the second the solid, hard length of him presses against my backside, I forget this is supposed to be a game and squirm a little more. His teeth nip at my shoulder at the same time his groan hits my ears. “Stop moving, Wren,” he demands, tightening his fingers on my hips. “You’re the one who put me on your lap.” I curl my fingers over the empty seat in front of me and squeeze my eyes shut when I feel him growing harder under me. “Yeah, because the flight attendant who just walked by had her phone out and pointed right at us. She’s doing a shit job of making it look like she’s doing something with her paperwork.” His hand comes off my hip, and he cups my jaw, turning my head to the side just when I was about to look up at where I last saw the attendant, forcing me to shift until all it would take is me throwing one leg over his body to be face-to-face. “Do not look at her,” he stresses; the sudden movement of twisting my body makes me bounce slightly in his lap, rubbing my legging-clad ass against his erection. His eyes drop to my mouth where I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and groan. “Give me a reason not to look,” I dare him. “You don’t want to go down that road, Wren. I’ll protect you from the world, but you need to protect yourself from me.” “No one is asking you to.” Not even knowing if we’re still being watched, I twist my torso the rest of the way, pulling my legs up until they’re bent at his stomach between us. Now that I’m facing him completely, I bring my hands up to curl them both around his shoulders before dragging them up to wrap around the corded muscles at the sides of his neck. His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t stop me. I give him the chance, but it never comes. Dropping my head, I press my lips to his. I explore his lips with small pecks and little licks of my tongue, learning his mouth before pressing more firmly. He sucks in a breath when I open my mouth and slowly drag the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip. And then his control snaps. His hands—still at my hips—lift me effortlessly until my legs are no longer folded between us, but now digging into the hard armrests with my knees pushing into his thighs, my back hitting the seat in front of me. His mouth opens, and his tongue meets mine, no hesitation whatsoever, as he deepens the kiss. Our breathing echoes around us, making it sound like everyone on this plane could hear us, but I know it’s just because our faces are so close. I let out a moan, one that he swallows, that turns into a whine when he pulls back. “That can’t happen again,” he softly scolds, just as breathless as I am. What the hell? I might not have been into this whole fake-boyfriend-slash-bodyguard thing before, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. Especially now that I know how alive he makes me feel. Three years since I had pleasure from anything other than my own hand, and if that kiss is anything to go by, what Chance could make me feel is ten times more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I’m not passing that up. Nope. No fucking way. “We’ll see about that.” Harper is a NEW YORK TIMES, WALL STREET JOURNAL and USA TODAY bestselling author residing in Georgia with her husband and three daughters. She has a borderline unhealthy obsession with books, hibachi, tattoos and Game of Thrones. When she isn't writing you can almost always find her with a book in hand. Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page
Michelle's Review
Jaded Hearts by Harper Sloan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars Five Jaded Stars! Love it! How could I not? It has Chance in it. Chance guys, you know Cohens buddy from the Hope Town series. Yes, him. Hot as all Chance. Take him toss in a cute and sassy lead singer from a major rock band and you get a lot of moving and shaken going on. You know I'm not going to give it all away with my review. You know Harper's books, they are fantastic. If you don't, may I ask why? You need to check her out. Jaded Hearts is a wonderful, cute, funny, hot and sexy book. Throw in a little who done it and you have a exciting wonderful Harper Sloan book. The characters are to die for, the story line is exciting and the writing is phenomenal. I can't wait for more of this series and these crazy characters. |
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