![]() A Little Bit Like Desire, an all-new STANDALONE contemporary MM romance from USA Today bestselling author Brooke Blaine is available NOW!![]() What if you had everything in the world you wanted...except the man you never knew you needed? Shaw Jennings, the seductive, enigmatic owner of Body Electric Tattoo works hard and plays even harder. He’s built a life he’s proud of, and though that doesn’t include a significant other, he’s got plenty of sexy men to keep his bed warm at night. None of them have ever made Shaw sit up and take notice for long, though. But that all changes when a famous rock star walks through his door. Trent Knox had the world in the palm of his hand as the lead singer of TBD, one of the biggest rock bands in history…until the day he walked away. A getaway to South Haven Island seems like the perfect place for Trent to find himself again and reignite his passion for music. But what he never expects is to find his muse in a six-five, tatted-up badass whose sinful smile he can’t get out of his mind. The only problem? Trent’s a notorious womanizer, and Shaw isn’t interested in being someone’s experiment—muse or otherwise. But in a town as small as this one, Shaw is finding it more and more difficult to keep the persistent rocker at arm’s length. As the tension between them builds, maybe it’s time to finally give in and get carried away with something a little bit like...desire. Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited! Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2A13Owl Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/ALittleBitLikeDesir Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2lU71ns Excerpt: I’d been inside Bash’s mansion enough times to know where he was taking me, even blindfolded. Through the front door, across the foyer, up the never-ending staircase. Walking down the hallway, I heard muffled sounds, as though there were people coupled up and already behind closed doors, and the further Bash took me, the louder the voices became. But there were no discernable words—it was more the breathless cries of men giving and receiving pleasure, and it made me hard as a fucking rock. “Sounds like the party started without me,” I said, a smile tipping my lips. “Not where you’re going,” he replied. I heard the sound of a handle being pressed down, felt the soft rush of air as a door opened and I was led inside, and then the click of the door shutting behind us. Whatever room he’d led me to was dead silent. We were alone. Bash tapped the side of my blindfold lightly.“You’ll keep this on until you get inside,” he said, keeping his voice low, as though he didn’t want anyone to hear him. Ah, so I’d be going through yet another door. I wondered at all of this secrecy, since usually these parties were informal, and if we wanted to wander off with someone, we did. Eyes wide open and lights on. But I trusted Bash with my life and knew him well enough to know that he had to have a good reason for doing this the way he was. So I didn’t think twice when I heard a second door open, felt his gentle hand on my back guiding me forward, and then heard him say with a smile in his voice,“Enjoy,my friends.” Then he was gone, and yet I was not alone. I removed the blindfold, but I needn’t have bothered. The room was pitch black. Not a window, not a crack of light coming through the door. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could feel another’s presence, sure as if they were standing beside me. I waited for them to speak, but the silence lingered on. They didn’t say a word, and they didn’t move, though they had to know I’d arrived. This must be part of the game,I thought. For whatever reason, we weren’t allowed to see each other, and I’d venture a guess that speaking was out of the question as well. Something told me there was more at play here than darkness simply heightening our awareness and setting the mood, and that had a shiver running down my spine. If it’s a game they want, it’s a game they’ll get. Opening my senses, I stood perfectly still and waited until I got a hint of where the man waiting for me was. My rapidly pounding heart was all I could hear for a long moment until a faint sound, maybe a quiet exhale, sounded to my right, and I stalked in that direction slowly, letting my prey hear me coming. Would he run and make me chase him? Or did he want me to find him waiting? With my hands slightly in front of me, I moved forward until my fingertips grazed against smooth material cut with a cold and jagged line that ran vertically—a zipper. The smell of leather filled my nose as I slid my hands up the man’s jacket. He didn’t move, but I could hear his shuddering breath as I reached his shoulders and slipped my hands beneath the leather to feel the naked, tensed muscles there. He was maybe three or four inches shorter than me, and as I pushed the jacket down, I realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. No shirt. Nothing to cover the solid muscle of his strong arms and chest. The leather fell to the ground, and then the man reached for me, his hands skimming up my arms, my shoulders, my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There was something so tantalizing about a stranger touching me, wanting from me, as we stood toe to toe in the unlit room. I could see how the mystery of it all would make someone shy feel more bold and empowered, though that had never been something I struggled with. I had no problem telling someone what I wanted and when, which meant tonight’s clandestine activities were tailored for the man currently caressing my body—but it’d sure as hell be a fun, sexy pursuit for me. When his rough fingers reached my lips, I grabbed his wrist and held him there. Then I kissed the tips and sucked his pointer and middle fingers deep into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him, and his gasp hit my ears. The sound was so erotic, the salty taste of his skin so heady on my tongue, that I had to palm my already-up-and-ready-to-go dick to calm it the hell down. As if he sensed my arousal, he pulled his fingers from my mouth and punched his hips forward. I let out a throaty groan at the contact. His erection matched my own, though more constricted through the tight fit of his jeans. Thirsty for more, I grabbed his trim waist and let my hands fall to his backside. His shoulders were against a wall, and with his ass firmly in my grasp, I held his hips against me, rubbing myself off on the bulge rocking against my own. All the while, his fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of my vest, and then he pulled loose my shirt and began removing those as well. My chest heaved as he pushed my jacket, shirt, and vest off in one go, and I kicked them away, not worried in the slightest about finding them later. His touch made goosebumps break out on my naked flesh wherever he roamed. Down my neck and then my chest, where he pinched my nipples so hard that I cried out in painful pleasure and put my hands over his. He froze, as if he’d crossed an unspoken line. But if he’d thought he’d gone too far or that I was about to stop him, he was dead wrong. I guided our hands down together, over my trembling abs and then further, further, until we pushed beneath the waistband of my pants to my-- “Fuuuck.” His head fell back against the wall as the curse left his lips on an exhale. In the dark, I smiled. He’d broken the rules to his own game. With one word, he changed everything, and now? Anything goes.Start the series of standalones today! A Little Bit Like Love Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2h40Ltx Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/ALittleBitLikeLovesale Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/ShbNqD About Brooke: Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance that ranges from comedy to suspense to erotic. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years. Or you can reach her atwww.BrookeBlaine.com.![]() Connect with Brooke: Website: http://www.brookeblaine.com/ Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1 Instagram: www.instagram.com/brookeblaine1/ Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1i2g15S Brooke & Ella's Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas The M/M Daily Grind: https://www.facebook.com/groups/941204085967883 If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s mailing list:
Michelle' s Review
![]() My rating: 5 of 5 stars Sizzling.... This is the best M/M book I’ve read in a while. Come on... a tattoo artist and rock God, you know it’s going to be out of this world. Trent and Shaw are wonderful characters and together they are explosive. The sexual tension was out of this world and when they finally came together it was extremely hot. While I loved the first book in this series I do have to say I like this one more. There is just something about these two that had me from first page to the last page. It’s definitely one of those books that you re-read over and over. I freaking loved it! View all my reviews
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![]() Experience the heartbreakingly beautiful journey of Ollie & Reid in…Remember Me When, the emotional conclusion to The Unforgettable Duet, from Brooke Blaine is now LIVE![]() My worst nightmare and your greatest fear became a reality. Remember Me When is the second and final book in The Unforgettable Duet and should only be read following Forget Me Not. The Unforgettable Duet Excerpt
THE UNFORGETTABLE DUET © 2018, BROOKE BLAINE CHAPTER ONE
“IT’S MONDAY, AND you know what that means,” Mike said as he cut off Big Bertha’s engine and looked over at me expectantly. I patted my pants pocket to make sure I’d shoved my wallet inside before we’d headed out this morning, and when I felt the outline of the trifold, I nodded. “Yep. Extra-bold coffee comin’ up.” As I popped open the passenger-side door, Mike’s hand landed firmly on my arm, halting me before I could get out of the ambulance, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. “It means don’t be a chickenshit, Ollie, that’s what it means.” Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced around, searching for whoever it was Mike thought he was talking to, and when he read my quizzical expression, he snorted. “Yeah, that means you,” he said. “You callin’ me out?” “Damn right I am.” I shook my head. “I’m not a chickenshit, and you know it.” Mike shrugged and let go of my arm. “Fine. Prove it.” “I can’t do that.” “You can. You just won’t.” Yeah, whatever, he had me there. Something always held me back from saying much more than hello to the guy in the fitted chinos and starched collared shirt and tie that I saw most mornings in the coffee aisle at Joe’s Grab ’N Go, and Mike never could resist an opportunity to rib me for it. I never should’ve told him about my crush in the first damn place, but being my best friend as well as my work partner meant we tended to overshare in the time between calls. “He’s straight, Mike. Leave it alone, huh?” “You don’t know that for sure.” I picked up a container of mints and shook a couple into my mouth before tossing it back in the console. “Trust me. I know.” “You ask him since the last time I saw you?” Rolling my eyes, I ignored his question and pushed open my door. “You want that coffee or not?” “Mhmm. The date for you, too.” “Jesus,” I muttered, slamming the door before he could make any other requests. I could hear him chuckling behind me as he got out to pump the gas. And out of the corner of my eye, a flash of red pulling into a parking spot had my heart beating a bit faster. It was ridiculous that I’d even wonder for a second if I’d see him, since hardly a weekday had gone by in four months when I hadn’t. But that flutter of anticipation still sent a thrill through me, the handful of minutes seeing him every morning the highlight of my day. That’s it. I need to get my damn life back. Working all these overtime shifts to pick up some extra cash over the holidays—and giving the guys with families some time off—had sent my extracurricular activities into a tailspin. If I didn’t get laid soon, I’d crash and burn. Or, worse, hit on the straight guy. “Hey, Ollie,” Mike called out, and I paused with my hand on the door to the Grab ’N Go before moving aside to let the woman behind me pass through. When I turned around, a mischievous grin played on his lips as he inserted the gas pump into Big Bertha’s tank and began to hip-thrust. Oh for the love of— “And while you’re at it, maybe grab me one of those apple fritters, would ya? And a soda for later?” So much for New Year’s resolutions, I thought. That had lasted less than a week. Not that I could blame him when it came to the tempting basket of freshly baked goods that sat by Joe’s register every morning—even I had a hard time passing on those. Still, Mike had wanted to lose the twenty pounds that had crept up since Halloween and made me swear I’d keep him in check. “You sure you wanna do that?” I asked. Mike looked pointedly over at the red Mazda3 and his smile grew. “Life’s too short to pass on the good stuff, wouldn’t you say?” That fucker. I shook my head and shot a glare his way, and then I went inside, determined now to buy out the apple fritters and personally stuff ’em down his meddling throat. “Morning, Oliver,” Joe greeted me from behind the counter where he was ringing up a customer, and I smiled his way before grabbing a handheld basket and heading down the aisle for Mike’s Sprite. I took the third bottle from the front—yeah, I never took the first one of anything—and laid it in the basket as the freezer door slapped shut behind me. I kept a tight grip on the handle as I took my time walking toward the far aisle, the anticipation building in my gut. Finally, I rounded the corner, and just as he was every day, Bluebird stood in front of the coffee station, refillable mug in hand and somehow looking more gorgeous than I remembered. My memory never did him justice. I didn’t move as he placed his mug beneath the machine’s spout and hit a button, and I knew exactly what he’d get, the same as every morning: a latte with light foam and three sugars, two creamers. Today he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a white button-down shirt and a midnight-blue tie—always so well put together, from his stylishly tousled dark brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to his black loafers. A couple of days of stubble covered his usual freshly shaven jaw, and I imagined how it’d feel under my hands as I took either side of his face and pulled him toward mine— “Dammit!” Bluebird’s curse shook me out of my stupor as my feet managed to move again, and as I got closer, I saw that the usual brown liquid coming out of the machine was a cloudy white instead. He let out a frustrated sigh. “Hey, Joe,” he called out to the owner. “Latte machine’s down.” “Again?” Joe scratched his jaw and then said, “Sorry about that, Reid. I’ll get someone out to fix it today.” “No problem,” Reid replied, dumping out the hot water from his mug into the tray, and hello, I finally had a name to go with the face: Reid. How was it I’d gone so long without knowing? I pulled out a couple of large disposable cups from the rack and reached for the coffee pot at the same time as Reid, our fingers brushing each other ever so slightly before we both jerked back. His touch shot through me like an electric jolt to my heart, and the surprise that lit his eyes told me I wasn’t the only one affected. “Sorry,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “Damn static.” That wasn’t static, I thought, but I wasn’t about to enlighten him, so instead I gestured to the almost empty coffee pot. “No problem. Go for it.” “Oh…uh…” He glanced at how little was left and shook his head. “That’s okay. You were first.” “Nah, go ahead. Something tells me you need it more than I do.” “You sure?” Reid asked, his forehead creased like he didn’t want to impose, but I wouldn’t have minded him taking the last of the coffee every day, so long as those dark chocolate eyes of his stayed on me. “I insist,” I said, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Besides, I know where Joe keeps the spares. I’ll just make another pot.” A grateful smile lifted his lips. “Thanks.” Then he poured himself a full mug of coffee and scratched his jaw as he said, “Ever have one of those mornings?” “All the time.” Reid looked up at me, and then his eyes shifted down to my name and title patched in on my uniform. Oliver McFadden. Paramedic. “Yeah, of course you do. Paramedic, huh? I don’t know how you do it.” “Helps that we can filter caffeine through IVs for a quicker hit on bad days.” He laughed as he ripped open three sugar packets and dumped them into his drink. “I think I’m in the wrong field.” “What is it you do?” “I teach music education at Castle Hill.” “Middle schoolers?” I whistled. “I think I’ll stick with my job.” “I wouldn’t blame you some days. They’re mostly a good group, but man, there’s a few whose mission is to run off the new teachers.” “And you’re one of the new ones?” “Four months running.” He tossed the empty packets into the trash and then held his hand out to me. “I’m Reid, by the way.” I stared at his hand for a couple of heartbeats before taking it in mine. His long fingers were cool to the touch, unlike my perpetually hot ones. It could be negative fifty outside, and my hands would still be warm. “Ollie,” I said, and then shook my head slightly. “Well, Oliver, but everyone calls me Ollie.” “Ollie,” Reid repeated, still shaking my hand. “I’ve never met an Ollie before.” “Mom was a big fan of Laurel and Hardy. I’m just glad she didn’t go with Stan.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that was an unnecessary reference because he probably had no idea who the hell Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy were, but Reid surprised the hell out of me by laughing. “Your mom has good taste. I used to watch their stuff at my nan’s,” he said, and then let go of my hand. I missed the contact immediately. Before I could respond, Joe’s gnarled fingers clamped down on my arm as he hobbled in between us and hit the side of the latte machine with his cane. “I don’t think it’ll respond to a beat-down, Joe,” Reid said, as he stirred two creamers into his coffee. “Worked once before. By George, I’ll do it again.” As Joe whacked at the machine, Reid shook his head at the stubborn man. Then he capped his mug and smiled at me. “Thanks again, Ollie. I owe you one.” “Anytime,” I said, and meant it. “Hope your morning improves.” “I’m counting on it. Bye, Joe. I’ll leave the money on the counter.” Joe grumbled what sounded like a goodbye and kept fiddling with the latte machine as I rinsed out the coffee pot and started up a fresh brew. Two steaming mugs and a bag full of apple fritters later and I was climbing back into Big Bertha, still reeling from my run-in with Reid. It was so unlike me to moon over a guy, for fuck’s sake, but there was something about him that had caught my attention from day one and never let go. Today’s encounter had only served to pique my curiosity. I’d always thought him older, maybe mid- to late twenties, but he said he’d only been at Castle Hill for four months. Maybe that meant he was fresh out of college? Or could be he’d relocated from somewhere. Definitely somewhere still in the South, since he seemed to have the manner of someone who’d grown up with parents who drilled in the Yes, sirs and No, thank you, ma’ams so telling of this part of the country, though his accent didn’t betray much of a twang. “That has got to be the biggest, dumbest grin I’ve ever seen on your ugly mug,” Mike said, staring at me like I’d grown two heads. “Did you finally do it? Did you ask him out?” I tossed the bag of fritters and soda into Mike’s lap. “Feel free to choke on those.” “Ahh, I’m gonna take that as a yes, then. He shoot you down?” After setting the coffees in the console, I fastened my seatbelt and waited for Mike to get the hint we needed to get moving. “The hell, man?” he said. “You gonna leave me hangin’?” I arched my brow in his direction, and when I didn’t say anything, he gave a grunt and started up the rig. “One of these days, Ollie,” he grumbled, pulling out of the gas station. “You know all my personal shit. See if I spill my guts anymore.” “You wouldn’t know what to do if you couldn’t talk about Deb twenty-four seven.” “Hey, it’s not my fault I scored a good one. Just letting everyone know what they’re missing out on.” As Mike slowed down behind traffic, he glanced over at me and waggled his black eyebrows. “Make sure to do us a favor and hand out barf bags the next time you get started.” I nodded at the bag of pastries in his lap. “And don’t tell Deb I’m doin’ a horrible job of keeping you accountable.” “Nah, she likes my love handles.” “Bullshit.” He laughed and tore into the bag of fritters with one hand, while keeping his other on the wheel. When he’d made me swear last week that I’d keep him on track while he “cut the crap,” I’d thought he was nuts. Even with an extra twenty pounds on his strong six-foot build, Mike was as attractive as ever. Black, close-cropped curls, a permanent tan, and dimples that only seemed to have deepened the past few months. The hot ones are always straight. At least they are in Floyd Hills, Georgia, I thought, my mind drifting back to the man I always made sure to run into during the workweek. And yeah, I got that straight vibe from Reid too, though even he couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited when our hands had brushed against each other. That wasn’t enough to hang any hope on, though, much as I wanted to. “His name’s Reid,” I said, breaking up the quiet in the cab, and when Mike’s head jerked in my direction, a fritter half shoved in his mouth, I was unable to keep the smirk off my face anymore. “Teaches music at the middle school.” As I casually sipped my coffee, Mike’s jaw practically hit the ground. “No shit.” A horn sounded from behind us, and Mike stepped on the gas, shaking his head. “About damn time. What else did you talk about?” “Nothing. Joe came over to give the coffee machine a concussion, and that was the end of that.” “Dammit, Joe. Way to cock-block.” “Nah, he didn’t know.” “Well, you have an opening now,” Mike said, winking at me. “And that was only a pun if you want it to be.” “Oh, Jesus. I’ve done it now.” “What?” “Created a monster who uses puns against me.” Mike laughed as I flipped on the radio to drown out any other comments his sugar high wanted to lob out, but when Bing Crosby began to croon about a winter wonderland, Mike groaned and jabbed at the buttons to change the channel. “I can’t believe they’re still blasting Christmas music in January. Didn’t they get the memo that Santa Claus already came to town, and all he brought me was a damn snow blower? When the hell am I gonna use a snow blower around here? I think my in-laws called in a favor.” Chuckling, I brought my coffee up to my lips and blew softly, while Mike continued to flip through the stations until a country song began to play. He started to sing along, something about naming babies and dogs, which would normally have me eye-rolling him to death. But since his mouth was now otherwise occupied and he wasn’t digging for more information out of me, I didn’t bother putting up a fight to change the channel. Let him belt out “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” for all I cared. Until a call came in, my mind would be preoccupied by…other things. A quick tone alert came through the radio, and I punched the music off as a call came through from dispatch. “Unit 110, please respond Code 3 to the intersection of Mercer and Thomas on a multi-vehicle accident with injuries. Fire responding for possible extrication.” I picked up the receiver. “Ten-four, Unit 110 en route. ETA less than two minutes,” I said, as Mike dropped the plastic bag on the ground at my feet and flipped on the lights and siren. “Not how I’d want my day starting out,” he said, cutting through an intersection to make a left on Mercer. “Saddle up,” I said. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long one.” Traffic going east was already beginning to back up, the roads congested at the height of morning rush hour. Now with the accident up ahead and the cars unable to move to the side, Mike had to pull us into the suicide lane to get by. From the opposite direction, a backup unit, along with two police cars and a fire truck, veered toward the intersection, though it looked like we’d get there first. I could see the smoke rising up ahead, and as we got closer, it seemed to be coming from beneath the hood of a black four-by-four truck that had smashed into a— “Oh shit… Ollie…” Mike’s voice trailed off as we both caught sight of the crushed passenger side of the car that had been T-boned. The crumpled car had been no match for the bigger vehicle; it looked like they’d skidded into the middle of the intersection during impact. The car’s hood punched up at an awkward angle with the truck half inside, and broken glass littered the road. I’d seen the sight so many times before, but never had the breath left my lungs in a rush, never had a faint ringing sound filled my ears, and never had a wild sense of panic seized my chest like it did right then. Because the mangled car, the one I was responding to, was none other than Reid’s bright red Mazda3. Author’s Note: The Unforgettable Duet must be read in order, beginning with Forget Me Not. Ollie & Reid’s journey continues in book two, Remember Me When.Read Remember Me When Today!(Free in Kindle Unlimited) Start the Series Today!Forget Me NotAmazon US I Amazon UniversalAdd to GoodReads![]() About Brooke![]() Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance that ranges from comedy to suspense to erotic. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years. Or you can reach her atwww.BrookeBlaine.com. Connect with BrookeFacebook I Twitter I Instagram I Website I Amazon Author PageBrooke & Ella's Facebook Group I The M/M Daily Grind If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s mailing list HERE
Michelle's Review
![]() My rating: 4 of 5 stars The conclusion is here! When Forget Me Not ended I was heartbroken.... absolutely heartbroken. I’ve fallen in love with these men and my heart ached for both of them. Forget Me When picks up and I’m still heartbroken. These men... these beautiful men have me crying for them. One is forced to watch his live from afar and the other struggling to find himself. This is a totally beautiful duet that you just have to read. If you like m/m books this is definitely for you. View all my reviews ![]() Experience the heartbreakingly beautiful journey of Ollie & Reid inâ¦Forget Me Not, the first all-new contemporary MM Romance in The Unforgettable Duet, from Brooke Blaine is available NOW!![]() Three sugars, two creamers. Thatâs how you took your coffee every morning at Joeâs Grab âN Go. But you donât remember that. You donât remember anything. Anything, that is, except me⦠That day⦠And the tragedy that catapulted us together. CHAPTER ONE âITâS MONDAY, AND you know what that means,â Mike said as he cut off Big Berthaâs engine and looked over at me expectantly. I patted my pants pocket to make sure Iâd shoved my wallet inside before weâd headed out this morning, and when I felt the outline of the trifold, I nodded. âYep. Extra-bold coffee cominâ up.â As I popped open the passenger-side door, Mikeâs hand landed firmly on my arm, halting me before I could get out of the ambulance, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. âIt means donât be a chickenshit, Ollie, thatâs what it means.â Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced around, searching for whoever it was Mike thought he was talking to, and when he read my quizzical expression, he snorted. âYeah, that means you,â he said. âYou callinâ me out?â âDamn right I am.â I shook my head. âIâm not a chickenshit, and you know it.â Mike shrugged and let go of my arm. âFine. Prove it.â âI canât do that.â âYou can. You just wonât.â Yeah, whatever, he had me there. Something always held me back from saying much more than hello to the guy in the fitted chinos and starched collared shirt and tie that I saw most mornings in the coffee aisle at Joeâs Grab âN Go, and Mike never could resist an opportunity to rib me for it. I never shouldâve told him about my crush in the first damn place, but being my best friend as well as my work partner meant we tended to overshare in the time between calls. âHeâs straight, Mike. Leave it alone, huh?â âYou donât know that for sure.â I picked up a container of mints and shook a couple into my mouth before tossing it back in the console. âTrust me. I know.â âYou ask him since the last time I saw you?â Rolling my eyes, I ignored his question and pushed open my door. âYou want that coffee or not?â âMhmm. The date for you, too.â âJesus,â I muttered, slamming the door before he could make any other requests. I could hear him chuckling behind me as he got out to pump the gas. And out of the corner of my eye, a flash of red pulling into a parking spot had my heart beating a bit faster. It was ridiculous that Iâd even wonder for a second if Iâd see him, since hardly a weekday had gone by in four months when I hadnât. But that flutter of anticipation still sent a thrill through me, the handful of minutes seeing him every morning the highlight of my day. Thatâs it. I need to get my damn life back. Working all these overtime shifts to pick up some extra cash over the holidaysâand giving the guys with families some time offâhad sent my extracurricular activities into a tailspin. If I didnât get laid soon, Iâd crash and burn. Or, worse, hit on the straight guy. âHey, Ollie,â Mike called out, and I paused with my hand on the door to the Grab âN Go before moving aside to let the woman behind me pass through. When I turned around, a mischievous grin played on his lips as he inserted the gas pump into Big Berthaâs tank and began to hip-thrust. Oh for the love ofâ âAnd while youâre at it, maybe grab me one of those apple fritters, would ya? And a soda for later?â So much for New Yearâs resolutions, I thought. That had lasted less than a week. Not that I could blame him when it came to the tempting basket of freshly baked goods that sat by Joeâs register every morningâeven I had a hard time passing on those. Still, Mike had wanted to lose the twenty pounds that had crept up since Halloween and made me swear Iâd keep him in check. âYou sure you wanna do that?â I asked. Mike looked pointedly over at the red Mazda3 and his smile grew. âLifeâs too short to pass on the good stuff, wouldnât you say?â That fucker. I shook my head and shot a glare his way, and then I went inside, determined now to buy out the apple fritters and personally stuff âem down his meddling throat. âMorning, Oliver,â Joe greeted me from behind the counter where he was ringing up a customer, and I smiled his way before grabbing a handheld basket and heading down the aisle for Mikeâs Sprite. I took the third bottle from the frontâyeah, I never took the first one of anythingâand laid it in the basket as the freezer door slapped shut behind me. I kept a tight grip on the handle as I took my time walking toward the far aisle, the anticipation building in my gut. Finally, I rounded the corner, and just as he was every day, Bluebird stood in front of the coffee station, refillable mug in hand and somehow looking more gorgeous than I remembered. My memory never did him justice. I didnât move as he placed his mug beneath the machineâs spout and hit a button, and I knew exactly what heâd get, the same as every morning: a latte with light foam and three sugars, two creamers. Today he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a white button-down shirt and a midnight-blue tieâalways so well put together, from his stylishly tousled dark brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to his black loafers. A couple of days of stubble covered his usual freshly shaven jaw, and I imagined how itâd feel under my hands as I took either side of his face and pulled him toward mineâ âDammit!â Bluebirdâs curse shook me out of my stupor as my feet managed to move again, and as I got closer, I saw that the usual brown liquid coming out of the machine was a cloudy white instead. He let out a frustrated sigh. âHey, Joe,â he called out to the owner. âLatte machineâs down.â âAgain?â Joe scratched his jaw and then said, âSorry about that, Reid. Iâll get someone out to fix it today.â âNo problem,â Reid replied, dumping out the hot water from his mug into the tray, and hello, I finally had a name to go with the face: Reid. How was it Iâd gone so long without knowing? I pulled out a couple of large disposable cups from the rack and reached for the coffee pot at the same time as Reid, our fingers brushing each other ever so slightly before we both jerked back. His touch shot through me like an electric jolt to my heart, and the surprise that lit his eyes told me I wasnât the only one affected. âSorry,â he said, and then cleared his throat. âDamn static.â That wasnât static, I thought, but I wasnât about to enlighten him, so instead I gestured to the almost empty coffee pot. âNo problem. Go for it.â âOhâ¦uhâ¦â He glanced at how little was left and shook his head. âThatâs okay. You were first.â âNah, go ahead. Something tells me you need it more than I do.â âYou sure?â Reid asked, his forehead creased like he didnât want to impose, but I wouldnât have minded him taking the last of the coffee every day, so long as those dark chocolate eyes of his stayed on me. âI insist,â I said, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, âBesides, I know where Joe keeps the spares. Iâll just make another pot.â A grateful smile lifted his lips. âThanks.â Then he poured himself a full mug of coffee and scratched his jaw as he said, âEver have one of those mornings?â âAll the time.â Reid looked up at me, and then his eyes shifted down to my name and title patched in on my uniform. Oliver McFadden. Paramedic. âYeah, of course you do. Paramedic, huh? I donât know how you do it.â âHelps that we can filter caffeine through IVs for a quicker hit on bad days.â He laughed as he ripped open three sugar packets and dumped them into his drink. âI think Iâm in the wrong field.â âWhat is it you do?â âI teach music education at Castle Hill.â âMiddle schoolers?â I whistled. âI think Iâll stick with my job.â âI wouldnât blame you some days. Theyâre mostly a good group, but man, thereâs a few whose mission is to run off the new teachers.â âAnd youâre one of the new ones?â âFour months running.â He tossed the empty packets into the trash and then held his hand out to me. âIâm Reid, by the way.â I stared at his hand for a couple of heartbeats before taking it in mine. His long fingers were cool to the touch, unlike my perpetually hot ones. It could be negative fifty outside, and my hands would still be warm. âOllie,â I said, and then shook my head slightly. âWell, Oliver, but everyone calls me Ollie.â âOllie,â Reid repeated, still shaking my hand. âIâve never met an Ollie before.â âMom was a big fan of Laurel and Hardy. Iâm just glad she didnât go with Stan.â As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that was an unnecessary reference because he probably had no idea who the hell Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy were, but Reid surprised the hell out of me by laughing. âYour mom has good taste. I used to watch their stuff at my nanâs,â he said, and then let go of my hand. I missed the contact immediately. Before I could respond, Joeâs gnarled fingers clamped down on my arm as he hobbled in between us and hit the side of the latte machine with his cane. âI donât think itâll respond to a beat-down, Joe,â Reid said, as he stirred two creamers into his coffee. âWorked once before. By George, Iâll do it again.â As Joe whacked at the machine, Reid shook his head at the stubborn man. Then he capped his mug and smiled at me. âThanks again, Ollie. I owe you one.â âAnytime,â I said, and meant it. âHope your morning improves.â âIâm counting on it. Bye, Joe. Iâll leave the money on the counter.â Joe grumbled what sounded like a goodbye and kept fiddling with the latte machine as I rinsed out the coffee pot and started up a fresh brew. Two steaming mugs and a bag full of apple fritters later and I was climbing back into Big Bertha, still reeling from my run-in with Reid. It was so unlike me to moon over a guy, for fuckâs sake, but there was something about him that had caught my attention from day one and never let go. Todayâs encounter had only served to pique my curiosity. Iâd always thought him older, maybe mid- to late twenties, but he said heâd only been at Castle Hill for four months. Maybe that meant he was fresh out of college? Or could be heâd relocated from somewhere. Definitely somewhere still in the South, since he seemed to have the manner of someone whoâd grown up with parents who drilled in the Yes, sirs and No, thank you, maâams so telling of this part of the country, though his accent didnât betray much of a twang. âThat has got to be the biggest, dumbest grin Iâve ever seen on your ugly mug,â Mike said, staring at me like Iâd grown two heads. âDid you finally do it? Did you ask him out?â I tossed the bag of fritters and soda into Mikeâs lap. âFeel free to choke on those.â âAhh, Iâm gonna take that as a yes, then. He shoot you down?â After setting the coffees in the console, I fastened my seatbelt and waited for Mike to get the hint we needed to get moving. âThe hell, man?â he said. âYou gonna leave me hanginâ?â I arched my brow in his direction, and when I didnât say anything, he gave a grunt and started up the rig. âOne of these days, Ollie,â he grumbled, pulling out of the gas station. âYou know all my personal shit. See if I spill my guts anymore.â âYou wouldnât know what to do if you couldnât talk about Deb twenty-four seven.â âHey, itâs not my fault I scored a good one. Just letting everyone know what theyâre missing out on.â As Mike slowed down behind traffic, he glanced over at me and waggled his black eyebrows. âMake sure to do us a favor and hand out barf bags the next time you get started.â I nodded at the bag of pastries in his lap. âAnd donât tell Deb Iâm doinâ a horrible job of keeping you accountable.â âNah, she likes my love handles.â âBullshit.â He laughed and tore into the bag of fritters with one hand, while keeping his other on the wheel. When heâd made me swear last week that Iâd keep him on track while he âcut the crap,â Iâd thought he was nuts. Even with an extra twenty pounds on his strong six-foot build, Mike was as attractive as ever. Black, close-cropped curls, a permanent tan, and dimples that only seemed to have deepened the past few months. The hot ones are always straight. At least they are in Floyd Hills, Georgia, I thought, my mind drifting back to the man I always made sure to run into during the workweek. And yeah, I got that straight vibe from Reid too, though even he couldnât deny the spark that had ignited when our hands had brushed against each other. That wasnât enough to hang any hope on, though, much as I wanted to. âHis nameâs Reid,â I said, breaking up the quiet in the cab, and when Mikeâs head jerked in my direction, a fritter half shoved in his mouth, I was unable to keep the smirk off my face anymore. âTeaches music at the middle school.â As I casually sipped my coffee, Mikeâs jaw practically hit the ground. âNo shit.â A horn sounded from behind us, and Mike stepped on the gas, shaking his head. âAbout damn time. What else did you talk about?â âNothing. Joe came over to give the coffee machine a concussion, and that was the end of that.â âDammit, Joe. Way to cock-block.â âNah, he didnât know.â âWell, you have an opening now,â Mike said, winking at me. âAnd that was only a pun if you want it to be.â âOh, Jesus. Iâve done it now.â âWhat?â âCreated a monster who uses puns against me.â Mike laughed as I flipped on the radio to drown out any other comments his sugar high wanted to lob out, but when Bing Crosby began to croon about a winter wonderland, Mike groaned and jabbed at the buttons to change the channel. âI canât believe theyâre still blasting Christmas music in January. Didnât they get the memo that Santa Claus already came to town, and all he brought me was a damn snow blower? When the hell am I gonna use a snow blower around here? I think my in-laws called in a favor.â Chuckling, I brought my coffee up to my lips and blew softly, while Mike continued to flip through the stations until a country song began to play. He started to sing along, something about naming babies and dogs, which would normally have me eye-rolling him to death. But since his mouth was now otherwise occupied and he wasnât digging for more information out of me, I didnât bother putting up a fight to change the channel. Let him belt out âBoot Scootinâ Boogieâ for all I cared. Until a call came in, my mind would be preoccupied byâ¦other things. A quick tone alert came through the radio, and I punched the music off as a call came through from dispatch. âUnit 110, please respond Code 3 to the intersection of Mercer and Thomas on a multi-vehicle accident with injuries. Fire responding for possible extrication.â I picked up the receiver. âTen-four, Unit 110 en route. ETA less than two minutes,â I said, as Mike dropped the plastic bag on the ground at my feet and flipped on the lights and siren. âNot how Iâd want my day starting out,â he said, cutting through an intersection to make a left on Mercer. âSaddle up,â I said. âI have a feeling itâs gonna be a long one.â Traffic going east was already beginning to back up, the roads congested at the height of morning rush hour. Now with the accident up ahead and the cars unable to move to the side, Mike had to pull us into the suicide lane to get by. From the opposite direction, a backup unit, along with two police cars and a fire truck, veered toward the intersection, though it looked like weâd get there first. I could see the smoke rising up ahead, and as we got closer, it seemed to be coming from beneath the hood of a black four-by-four truck that had smashed into aâ âOh shit⦠Ollieâ¦â Mikeâs voice trailed off as we both caught sight of the crushed passenger side of the car that had been T-boned. The crumpled car had been no match for the bigger vehicle; it looked like theyâd skidded into the middle of the intersection during impact. The carâs hood punched up at an awkward angle with the truck half inside, and broken glass littered the road. Iâd seen the sight so many times before, but never had the breath left my lungs in a rush, never had a faint ringing sound filled my ears, and never had a wild sense of panic seized my chest like it did right then. Because the mangled car, the one I was responding to, was none other than Reidâs bright red Mazda3.![]() Read Today! (Free in Kindle Unlimited) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2Cd3sOX Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/ForgetMeNotBB Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2nppVUp ![]() Book two, Remember Me When, will be released on February 26th, 2018. Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2nsupcb About Brooke Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance that ranges from comedy to suspense to erotic. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts. If youâd like to get in touch with her, sheâs easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone thatâs dominated her cell phone for years. Or you can reach her atwww.BrookeBlaine.com.Connect with Brooke: Website: http://www.brookeblaine.com/ Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1 Instagram: www.instagram.com/brookeblaine1/ Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1i2g15S Brooke & Ella's Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas The M/M Daily Grind: https://www.facebook.com/groups/941204085967883 If youâd like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brookeâs mailing list:
Michelle's review
![]() My rating: 5 of 5 stars My heart.... oh gosh my heart. Itâs weeping.... breaking. These two, Ollie and Reid are everything you want in characters and their story will break you in two. Iâm in love, with them and their story. Iâm routing for these two. This does end in a cliffhanger but no worries the second part of this beautiful duet is only a couple of weeks away. And I for one canât wait as for now Iâll go back to rocking in my corner... patiently waiting. View all my reviews A Little Bit Like Love, an all-new sexy STANDALONE MM romance from Brooke Blaine is available NOW!![]() A Little Bit Like Love by Brooke BlainePublication Date: July 27th, 2017Genre: Contemporary Romance/MM RomanceWhat if you had everything in the world you wanted…except the man you’d left behind? Jackson Davenport, the charismatic, strait-laced heir to the Davenport fortune, has a secret. One he’s been hiding since he graduated from South Haven all-boys academy—and that secret’s name is Lucas. When a work trip takes Jackson back to his old stomping grounds, memories of the year he shared with Lucas come crashing to the surface. With growing pressure from his father to settle down and take over the family business, Jackson knows he’s on borrowed time, and sets out to find the free-spirited daredevil he once knew. But Lucas isn’t the same man he was eight years ago. One night. A shattered heart. And an endless parade of nameless faces. Lucas Sullivan is South Haven’s ultimate playboy, a reputation he’s honed since the only boy he ever loved left without a trace. To the world, he’s brash and confident, an in-demand artist who spends his days designing one-of-a-kind pieces and his nights as king of the downtown scene. Many have tried and failed to get past the barrier he’s carefully constructed, but it’s the shy, studious boy he once coaxed out of his shell who still haunts him. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it was lust. Or maybe…it was a little bit like love. Excerpt:WITH THE NOTE from Principal Stewart crumpled in my fist, I stalked away from his office, away from the words I knew would haunt me forever. “I’m sorry, Jackson. Your father is quite…insistent you return to Connecticut immediately.” Immediately…immediately… With every echo of that word through my mind, my heart battered my chest, the ache to rip itself free of my body a plea I was helpless to honor. There was only one reason he would’ve demanded I leave South Haven before the end of classes next week. My father had been adamant I receive the best education his money afforded, choosing to ship me down to south Georgia to attend the most prestigious all-boys academy in the country. I’d done him proud, rising to the top of my class, and I’d been practicing my salutatorian speech for days. Skipping out on graduation and the pomp and circumstance and recognition that came with it? Out of the question. Which could only mean one thing. He knew. Somehow he knew. That was the only explanation for the letter in my hand, for the abrupt dismissal this late in the evening and this close to the end of the school year. My father hadn’t gotten to where he was by being stupid or blind, and I’d seriously underestimated how many eyes and ears had been watching me during my four years. Although it would’ve only been the whispers over the last few months that piqued his interest, only the last eight that he would’ve had any reason to give me a second thought. And that reason wasn’t a what—it was a who. The halls of the St. John’s dormitory were silent when I entered, all the students down at the mess hall for dinner, followed by the final bonfire of the year. So there wouldn’t be anyone around to see me sneak down the hall to where I knew I shouldn’t be going but couldn’t help myself. My feet seemed to move of their own accord, the countdown to my utter devastation causing me to pick up the pace. The private plane would arrive in a handful of hours, giving me just enough time to pack my things, but there was no way I could leave without a goodbye. Not going to happen. I wasn’t ready. I was supposed to have more time. As a cold sweat of panic seized me, I balled the letter tighter in my fist and chucked it into one of the trash bins as I passed. Screw my father. Screw the life he’d set out for me, the one I was destined to live and hate with every fiber of my being. I wanted to bottle up every one of his expectations and throw the blasted thing out at an angry sea to swallow up and tear apart instead. I wished it could be as easy as that. I’d been able to fool myself into a sense of freedom, but the cell door was about to smash shut on every dream I’d let myself have these past few months. His private dorm was at the end of the long hall, last one on the right, and I rapped on it twice fast, waited a moment, and then repeated the pattern that we used for each other. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and seeing the sole object of my daily and nightly thoughts standing there in front of me with a mixture of surprise and delight in his eyes made me think that coming here had been a mistake. It was only going to sink the dagger in farther. “Hey…I thought we were meeting la—” Lucas’s words cut off and the smile curling his lips fell as he got a good look at my face. “What’s wrong?” You should tell him. Tell him what’s going on and that it isn’t your fault. Look him in the eye when you tell him you can never see him again. A shooting pain tore through my chest as I realized what this goodbye actually meant. I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t be seeing him for the next couple of days or weeks. When I left South Haven’s campus in the early hours of the morning, I wouldn’t be seeing him again…ever. God, can I do this? Break his heart as well as mine? No…no, I couldn’t tell him. He’d look for me, find me, and there was no telling what my father would do if that happened. The letter had been my old man’s warning. Disobeying his orders would mean consequences neither of us were prepared for. “Jackson?” Lucas’s voice dropped low, and then he looked past me out into the deserted hall. When he didn’t see anyone to blame on my current state, he frowned and waited for an answer. The words didn’t come, though, so I stood there staring at him, taking a mental snapshot that I’d store away in a place no one could find and destroy. His black hair was casually tousled, and I knew him well enough to know he’d worried his hands through it, maybe wondering if I wouldn’t follow through on our plans tonight. He wore a simple grey t-shirt and low-slung jeans on his long and lean frame, and the swirl of black tattoos he’d recently inked on his tanned skin could be seen peeking around his right bicep before disappearing from view behind the thin material of his shirt. He was striking, both in looks and personality, and to say I hadn’t been expecting the force that was Lucas Sullivan when he’d transferred to the academy eight months ago was an understatement. Quite simply, I’d been lost to him the first time I laid eyes on him. Forcing myself to shake off my dread, I said, “I’m okay,” and tried to believe it for his sake. “Well, you look like hell.” He leaned against the doorway, one of those charming half-grins cocking up one side of his lips. “Hell on wheels, anyway. What’d you do, run all the way here?” Not too far off there. I didn’t even remember crossing campus to get to his dorm until I was in front of the building. When I didn’t laugh at his teasing, Lucas’s expression fell again and his brows pulled down, a crease forming between them as his eyes, the color of a stormy sky, gave me a thorough once-over, looking for the source of my pain. He was silent for a long moment, but he must’ve seen something he didn’t like, because he stiffened and his jaw clenched. Then he took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Tell me.” “Tell you what?” I asked. Lucas shook his head, his arms going over his chest. “I’m not helping you out here. If you came here for a reason, get out with it.” Did he know? He couldn’t. I’d only just found out myself, and… No. There was no way. “It’s…complicated.” “Complicated?” “Yes.” Lucas gave a humorless chuckle. “Jackson Davenport, I knew you were scared, but I never took you for a coward. If you don’t want to do this, you can man the hell up and tell me to my face.” “What are you… I’m not…” I ran my hand over my face, struggling to understand the conclusion he’d come to for why I was standing at his door. My lack of a poker face had put him on the defensive. He thought I was here to reject him. An idea so completely unfathomable to me that it made my stomach turn thinking about it. “Lucas…you’ve got this all wrong.” “Do I?” “Yes. I’m not here to—“ I almost said “end things with you,” but I didn’t want to lie to him. I never had and I never would. Instead, I said, “Fight with you. I don’t want to fight.” “Then why are you here, Jackson?” he asked, and my gaze fell to his lips. I’d tasted those lips only a few times, not nearly enough to quench a starving man’s hunger. All these months I’d wasted, warring with myself in my head, never letting myself have the thing I wanted most. And now I was down to a matter of hours. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. But it was all I had, and I wasn’t wasting another second. If I couldn’t tell Lucas how I felt about him, then I’d show him. Finally. Irrevocably. And starting now.![]() Read Today!(Free in Kindle Unlimited) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2h40Ltx Amazon International: myBook.to/ALBLLebook Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/ShbNqD ![]() About Brooke Blaine:You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas. She is the author of Flash Point, a romantic suspense standalone, as well as the co-author of the erotic series, A Desperate Man, with Ella Frank. The latter has scarred her conservative southern family for life, bless their hearts. Licked, a romantic comedy, will be released November 11th, 2015 and is the first in the L.A. Liaisons series. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for ten years.![]() Connect with Brooke:Newsletter-http://eepurl.com/brxPkP Website- http://www.brookeblaine.com/home Twitter- @BrookeBlaine1 FB- https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer/ FB Street Team- www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas/
Michelle's review
![]() My rating: 5 of 5 stars Five stars isn't enough! It's really a shame that I can only give this five stars when it deserves so much more. These characters, gosh I am totally and completely in love with them. Jackson and Lucas were two high school friends who fell for each other. When forced apart they both tried to get on with their lives. One destructive and the other doing what he can to make his father proud. Eight years later and they come face to face. Both trying not to show the hurt they both have experienced and finally given the chance to give each other the closure they both need and deserve. This is an extremely good book. It deals with love, forgiveness and it has all the feels. The author did a wonderful job telling her story, her writing is fantastic. It is a second chance story with everything you could want in a true love story. I absolutely loved it! ![]() Wedlocked from Ella Frank & Brooke Blaine is available now!!!![]() Wedlocked by Ella Frank & Brooke BlaineCover Reveal: March 2nd, 2017Photographer: Wander AguiarCover Designer: Jay Aheer Genre: Contemporary RomanceBecause you have believed in them, Celebrated with them, Loved and encouraged them, Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine invite you to join Ace Samuel Locke And Dylan Prescott Saturday the Twenty-Fourth of May At Six-O’Clock in the Evening The Grand Floridian Hotel 4406 Palm Way Orlando, Florida For Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After Excerpt:“SO YOU’RE GONNA want to keep your toes on the tail of the board and grip the rails under your chest like this,” Dylan said as he lay across the surfboard to show me the basics of his favorite pastime on the secluded stretch of beach. Not that I was paying much attention to the words coming out of his mouth. I was much more interested in the way his muscles flexed beneath the skintight Body Glove wetsuit he wore. As he pushed himself up into a standing position, my gaze traveled down the broad expanse of his back and down to his ass. “See how my dominant leg is in the back, and— Ace? Are you paying attention?” “Mhmm,” I murmured as I bit down on my lower lip and continued my perusal. Dylan turned to face me, and his hands went to his hips. “Oh yeah?” he said when I looked up. “What did I just say?” Taking a step forward, I gave him a cocky grin and tugged him off the surfboard and onto the sand until he was flush against me. Then I let my hands roam down over the firm, round muscles of his ass. “Something about being a dominant in the back,” I said, nipping at his lobe. “So why don’t you turn around?” A groan of frustration left Dylan then, but his head tilted to the side to let my lips trail down his neck. “You’re not gonna feel so cocky when you can’t get up on that board.” “Oh, I can always get it up, don’t you worry.” His hands covered my chest and he gently pushed me away. “How about you prove it, hotshot?” Then he pointed to the longboard I’d rented for the weekend. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done.” “It’s more fun watching you.” “Ace. Get your ass on that board.” I squinted in the sun and grinned. “You gonna be this bossy all weekend?” “If you’re lucky.” I took a step back so I was by my board, and crossed my arms. I had my wetsuit on, but it was still undone and hanging around my hips while Dylan walked me through this process step by step, and my move had the desired effect. He rubbed a hand up the back of his neck and over his hair, leaving it tousled and oh so sexy. “What?” I asked. “I’m back on my side of the board.” “Don’t try and act innocent with me, Locke. I’m trying to teach you a new skill. One that will keep you from hurting yourself. And you’re standing there being all…” He waved his hand up and down, gesturing to my exposed upper body. “Yes?” “See. Stop it,” he said, and then pointed to the board. “And zip up that damn wetsuit so I can’t see all your muscles.” I arched a brow as I moved to slip my arms through the stretchy synthetic material, and when I reached for the zipper and pulled it up to the base of my skull, Dylan groaned. “Okay, that’s almost worse than no wetsuit.” “I’m sorry. You’re not checking me out, are you? Because you’re supposed to be paying close attention to teaching me something that could save my life,” I said as I turned around and made a show of bending down to get on the board. “You having fun right now?” Dylan asked. “Maybe a little.” “Yeah, well, let’s hope that holds true when the wave dumps you on your ass.” I let out a sigh and gripped the board just as he’d told me, because the truth of the matter was, I had never surfed a day in my life. I grew up in Chicago, for God’s sake. But Dylan, with his sun-kissed hair, long, lean body, and eyes the color of the sea, looked right at home with the sun shining down on him as his feet sank into the sand by my head. “Let’s try this a couple more times here on land, and then we’ll get you out in the water. We won’t have you trying to stand up just yet. But if you can get the hang of at least catching the wave into the shore, we might be able to progress.” He crouched down and said, “Remember, toes on the tail of the board and grip the rails, and then push up.” As I did as he instructed, I paused in the push-up position and was rewarded when he leaned in and took my lips in a sweet kiss. “Again,” he whispered, and I moved back down to repeat the move, and this time when I paused, I was rewarded with a deeper kiss. When he pulled away too soon, I grumbled and he laughed, straightening. “Any more of that and we won’t make it into the water. On your feet, Locke, it’s time to hit the waves.”![]() Read Today!(Free in Kindle Unlimited) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2n8U5K7 Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/24Xmoh Add to GoodReads: https://goo.gl/WLH3bh Start the series!ACEDAmazon US: http://amzn.to/2nDdyTl Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/FtPd17 LOCKEDAmazon US: http://amzn.to/2n0GEh5 Amazon UK: https://goo.gl/wLbAO3 ![]() About Ella Frank:Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!” A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at www.ellafrank.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips. Connect with Ella: Newsletter – www.bit.ly/1hEYtgn Bookbub - http://bit.ly/29d67dD Website – www.ellafrank.com Twitter – @EllaFrank2012 FB - www.facebook.com/ella.frank.31 FB Street Team - www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas/ Instagram - www.instagram.com/ellafrank1/ Email: admin@ellafrank.com About Brooke Blaine:You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas. She is the author of Flash Point, a romantic suspense standalone, as well as the co-author of the erotic series, A Desperate Man, with Ella Frank. The latter has scarred her conservative southern family for life, bless their hearts. Licked, a romantic comedy, will be released November 11th, 2015 and is the first in the L.A. Liaisons series. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for ten years. Connect with Brooke:Newsletter-http://eepurl.com/brxPkP Website- http://www.brookeblaine.com/home Twitter- @BrookeBlaine1 FB- https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer/ FB Street Team- www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas/ Release Date: September 2nd Series: PresLocke #2 Genre: Contemporary Romance M/MSynopsis:“ACE LOCKE JETS OFF TO SIN CITY WITH MYSTERY MAN” Sorry, ladies—and fellas—Hollywood’s hottest action star, Ace Locke, is officially off the market! The man on Locke’s arm has been identified as Dylan Prescott, the sexy new “it” model currently featured in the latest Calvin Klein ads. Sources tell TNZ the men met on the set of Locke’s upcoming action film Insurrection 2, and that “they only have eyes for each other.” This is the first public gay relationship for Locke, who came out a year ago, and there has been much speculation on who would finally be the one to catch his eye. According to multiple eyewitnesses, Locke whisked Prescott away on his private jet for a romantic weekend at Syn, the most exclusive hotel on the Las Vegas Strip. After pictures recently surfaced of the new couple, affectionately named PresLocke, it appears from the possessive way Locke keeps his new beau close that things are heating up. The world is watching #PresLocke, and we’ll be sure to keep you up to date on this budding relationship! Ace and Dylan’s story continues in Book Two of the Bestselling PresLocke Series. © 2016 Ella Frank & Brooke Blaine * * * * * * * * * "Separately, Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine are must-read authors. Together, they create pure magic!" ~Erika Wilde, New York Times Bestselling Author * * * * * * * * * Excerpt:“You’re looking pretty serious over there, Daydream.” There was humor in his tone, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You okay?” I nodded slowly as I made my way over to where he sat. I reached for the phone and put it on the table, and when I cupped the side of his face and lowered my lips to his, I said, “I’m just great.” Ace pulled away slightly and raised an eyebrow. “Great, huh?” “Mhmm. I was just thinking…” “Always a dangerous pastime,” Ace said, and brought a palm up to lay it directly over my heart, and I wondered if he could feel it thudding. “No. Not this time,” I said. “No?” “Nope. I was just thinking how wonderful you are.” “Okay, sweet talker—” “I’m serious,” I said, bringing my other hand up so I was cradling his face between my palms. “I wish for one day you could be me, so you could see what an incredibly brave, sweet, extraordinary human being you are. You have so much, Ace, yet…you’re more generous and humble than anyone I know.” “Dylan—” “Shh,” I whispered against his lips. “I just wanted you to know that I…” I caught myself at the last minute as his eyes pierced mine and I was paralyzed by the enormity of emotions flooding me. God, how is it that in twelve weeks this man has completely turned my world upside down? But he had. Ace had me wanting things…things I’d never even thought about before. Things I always assumed I would never want. “You…?” he said, but my mind had changed course. The emotions had blurred and morphed into something else entirely, and then, quite unexpectedly, I asked, “Do you want kids?” From the stunned expression on Ace’s face, I might as well have asked him if he were a serial killer. His eyes had widened and his mouth fell open, and he looked so bewildered I couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled out of me. “Uhh…” he said. He appeared so shell-shocked it made me laugh even harder. “I’m sorry…but you should see your face right now… I promise, I’m not pregnant.” When I began laughing again, Ace’s mouth snapped shut and he brought both his hands up to my wrists to encircle them and tug me down into the booth with him. He scooted across the seat until he was lounging back against the wall and I was awkwardly sprawled across him. “Excuse me if you took me a little bit off guard,” he said. “A little bit?” “Okay, a whole fucking lot. But that wasn’t where I thought you were going with that at all.” I aimed a grin his way, trying to play down the fact that I’d been about three seconds away from handing over more of me than I knew I could ever get back should Ace decide he didn’t— “Hey?” he said. “Where’d you go?” “Huh?” It was Ace’s turn to chuckle. “What is up with you? You’re all over the place.” I sighed, knowing that he was right. Maybe it was like a postproduction crash or something. But I felt oddly sentimental. Like all of my feelings were right there on the surface. I stroked my fingers down his cheek. “I just think you would be an amazing father, is all. And I was curious.” He narrowed his eyes on me. “I don’t think that’s it at all, but to answer your question. Yes, I think one day and”—his eyes were so intent on holding mine then that there was no way I could look anywhere but at him, and his meaning was crystal clear before he even said it—“with the right person, I would definitely consider having kids. What about you?” “I never really thought I would, considering where I came from and all. But…” I chewed on my lower lip, suddenly wishing I’d kept my damn mouth shut. “But?” My eyes locked with his and I decided it was now or never to really just lay it out there. “But watching you today on set made me think about what-ifs.” The grin that curved Ace’s mouth then was cheeky, and for the first time since we’d entered the trailer, his eyes lit with the same amusement his smile was conveying. “Are you trying to say you want me to knock you up? Because, Dylan, I have to tell you, I have some pretty powerful boys at work, but no amount of horny goat weed is gonna make that happen.” It was my turn for my jaw to drop then, and when Ace started laughing his ass off I punched him in the arm. “Dick.” “Aww, but you just said I was wonderful.” “A wonderful dick.” “But not magical enough to get you pregnant.” “Would you stop saying that. You’re freaking me out.” Ace’s rumble of laughter vibrated through him as he wrapped his arms around my waist, and finally, after a minute or two, when his mirth had subsided, he stroked a hand down my back to my ass and pulled me as close as was possible while wearing clothes. “It’s okay to look at the future and think about what might be, Daydream.” I laid my head against his shoulder and shut my eyes. “I know. This is all just happening so fast. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe it’s real.” I felt his lips at my temple and then he whispered, “It’s real. So believe it. Plan it. Trust it.” I nodded and then angled my face to see him look up at me. He had a soft smile on his face, and for the first time all day he looked relaxed, and I knew that as long as we were together the future looked brighter than ever.Add to Goodreads![]() Buy Links:US http://amzn.to/2bWhUkH Universal: myBook.to/PresLocke ![]() My rating: 5 of 5 stars Amazing!! Oh gosh, where to start. Let me just say this book was absolutely everything I hoped it would be and more. I am totally in love with Ace and Dylan, not only are they hot, sexy characters they both have humongous hearts and when they love they go all in. Locked picks right up where Aced left off, we get answers to our questions from the first book ( yeah you know what your dying to find out) so you will definitely need to go back and read it first. We get to touch base with some of our favorite characters from Sunset Cove and we meet new characters to love. I am loving the story and the words these two ladies write are wonderful. No major cliffhanger on this ( thank God) but thankfully the story isn't over. Anxiously waiting for the next book! About the Authors:About Ella Frank: Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!” A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at www.ellafrank.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips. *** Ella Frank Author Links Ella Frank’s Newsletter – www.bit.ly/1hEYtgn Ella Frank’s Bookbub - http://bit.ly/29d67dD Website – www.ellafrank.com Twitter – @EllaFrank2012 FB - www.facebook.com/ella.frank.31 FB Street Team - www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas/ Instagram - www.instagram.com/ellafrank1/ Email: admin@ellafrank.com *** Amazon Buy Links PresLocke Series Aced - http://amzn.to/29zhJug Sunset Cove Series Finley - http://amzn.to/1MshEaY Devil’s Kiss - http://amzn.to/29kMlAF Temptation Series Try - http://amzn.to/1SndAIf Take - http://amzn.to/1q8fxz9 Trust - http://amzn.to/1q8fymN The Exquisite Series Exquisite - http://amzn.to/22Dnwpm Entice - http://amzn.to/1q8fNOI Edible - http://amzn.to/1UQ73ta Masters Among Monsters Alasdair - http://amzn.to/1q8fRhs Isadora - http://amzn.to/1RGmELp Standalones Blind Obsession - http://amzn.to/1UQ7544 Veiled Innocence - http://amzn.to/21MqYYZ Co-Authored Books Sex Addict - http://amzn.to/29jXd0n Anthologies F*cking Awkward Anthology - http://amzn.to/29nCbP2 ABOUT BROOKE BLAINEYou could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas. Brooke is a USA Today Bestselling Author and enjoys writing sassy contemporary romance, whether in the form of comedy, suspense, or erotica. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years. You can connect with Brooke here:★ http://www.brookeblaine.com/ ★ Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer ★ Twitter: https://twitter.com/BrookeBlaine1 ★ Instagram: www.instagram.com/brookeblaine1/ ★ Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1i2g15S ★ Brooke & Ella’s Facebook Group:https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheBrellas If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/brxPkP Purchase Links: ACED (PresLocke Series Book One) AMAZON: http://amzn.to/29EAa1a Universal Link: myBook.to/Acedebook LICKED (L.A. Liaisons Book 1) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1q4C7bJ Amazon International: myBook.to/Licked *Exclusively on Kindle Unlimited* HOOKER (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1QKpkSA Amazon International: myBook.to/Hooker *Exclusively on Kindle Unlimited* FLASH POINT Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1q4Cl2q Amazon International: myBook.to/FP *Exclusively on Kindle Unlimited* SEX ADDICT Amazon US: amzn.to/29bJDhl Amazon International: myBook.to/SexAddictebook *Exclusively on Kindle Unlimited* F*CKING AWKWARD Amazon US: amzn.to/299qA27 Enter to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card |
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