Showing posts with label chapter reveal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chapter reveal. Show all posts

Friday, January 4, 2019

Bear Essentials (The Shifter Town Series) by Novalee Swan



Bear Essentials


CONNOR REID is complex. An alpha, taller and stronger than anyone else, who has never lost a fight. But the truth is, this grizzly bear shifter is as sweet as a summer breeze and shy as a prairie dog. He never planned to stay in Shifter Town. Then something happened that rocked his world. Her name is LILY AMARETTO.

Lily hasn't known much kindness in her life, and never from a man. When she accepts a job working for the scariest male she's ever seen, it's about survival and redemption. She doesn't want to spend her life afraid of shadows, but did she really have to start with the most lethal man in existence? That's exactly what Connor Reid seems like to her. But there are other new and indefinable feelings that he stirs. And the things he does to her in her dreams.

What do two shy souls do when they want each other badly, but aren't quite sure how to make it happen?

Shifter Town is about to find out...

Bear Essentials is the fourth book in bestselling author Novalee Swan's Shifter Town series. It features her trademark heat and emotional intensity and is perfect for fans of Nalini Singh, Lora Leigh and Shelley Laurenston.


I was compensated via Fiverr for sharing this post. I only share those books that I feel will be of interest to my readers. Affiliate links follow. Should you make a purchase through one, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.


Buy links


Read an excerpt:

Chapter One
Rosewood, Tennessee.
Lily Amaretto’s breath whooshed out from between her lips as she froze.
Don’t panic!
That single thought filtered through the terrified stillness of her mind, the way sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the tall green grass. Wind rustled the long blades, brushing them against the pale skin of her legs, left bare by denim cut-offs. The kind she wore only in the deep forests outside town, where no one would ever see.
The wind twisted strands of brown hair across her face but she couldn’t move, even to brush them back.
If I move, I die.
Fear was no stranger to Lily.
Not even intense, crippling terror. They were old friends.
But back then, she’d never been afraid of dying. There were even times when death had seemed like a subject worthy of prayer.
She closed her eyes—an old habit—although Lord knows it had never done her a lick of good. But this time, she prayed to live.
She prayed that the biggest damn grizzly in the world, not ten feet away, wouldn’t rip her to shreds once it turned and saw her.
She didn’t want to die.
Not when she’d just begun wanting to live.
Now she had to decide whether to try and silently back away or drop and play dead.
Too late.
The bear lifted its nose, scenting the air.
Then it turned.
Lily would have gasped, but she’d forgotten how to breathe. If the grizzly didn’t rip her apart, she may well die of asphyxiation. As its muzzle came into view she finally managed to inhale jerkily, air filling her starving lungs. Some part of her expected the grizzly to roar, then rush towards her all claws and teeth and bloody death.
But that didn’t happen.
They just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. Arctic blue meeting shadowed whiskey.
Wrens and swallows flitted about, filling the air with birdsong. Hundreds of tiny white moths rested atop wildflowers until disturbed by the wind, rising in a swarm then gently alighting once more. Time spun invisible ribbons around Lily and the grizzly.
Then it took a single step forward.
Lily, correspondingly, tried to take a single step back. But her foot found a rock and she lost her balance and began to fall.
The grizzly responded instantly, charging towards her. Lily whimpered and turned her face away. But that one small sound had the effect of a sawn-off shotgun.
Death stopped short.
It took Lily a moment to register this, and a moment more while she gathered her courage. When she looked back the grizzly slowly rose on its hind legs, standing over ten feet tall. Then the air shimmered, cocooning the massive bear in sparks of golden sunlight, its shape shifting until what stood before her was a man.
Naked as the day he was born.
Connor Reid considered Lily Amaretto sprawled in the grass before him and cursed his poor fucking luck. Big blue eyes looked up at him, terrified, and he didn’t have the first clue how to make it better.
How to take away that fear.
He never knew what to do or say around this woman, who tied him in such tight knots he could hardly function. He could barely form a lucid sentence around her. Not that Lily ever spoke to him, but that was for an entirely different reason. She never looked him in the eye and never let him get close, because Lily Amaretto was afraid of him.
Connor tried not to take it personally. Seemed like she was afraid of all men. Him, his brother Ryan, Sheriff Cage Delgado, and Lucas LeBray, the local mechanic. They were all aware of it. Their women had taken Lily underwing, and whenever the shifters were around her their wildings sensed her fear. The problem was, no one else in Rosewood was crazy stuck on her and unable to do a damned thing about it. But that was good, else he would have had a hell of a time restraining his grizzly from ripping them apart.
Lily’s terror had been so intense when she saw his wilding that his own adrenaline had spiked. He hadn’t known what to do. The grizzly terrified her, but more or less than him in all his glory?
In retrospect, he should have just walked away. He’d only been able to think: She’s afraid. Fix it. And fixing it meant getting to her, and yeah . . . not the smartest thing he’d ever done.
Connor had meant to approach her slow—like she was the wild animal—but when she fell, slow went out the window. He’d needed to reach her and make sure she was okay. Until she’d whimpered and his heart had stopped. He’d felt it stutter, right there in his chest. Like the first time he saw her, through the window at Sofia’s deli, sitting with Kelly, his brother’s mate, and Kelly’s friends.
Lily Amaretto was the reason Connor Reid moved to Rosewood, Tennessee.
Not that she knew it.
Not that he’d done a damn thing about it—except offer her a job. A job she was due to start tomorrow, if he hadn’t scared her away.
He looked down at those mile-long legs and swallowed. Lily’s cut-offs were so short he could almost see heaven. She was a beguiling contradiction of Amazon and waif. Coltish limbs on a body that stood a smidge under six feet. He loved her height. She was only a head shorter than him. He’d hardly have to bend at all to kiss her.
Connor thought about kissing Lily a lot.
But that’s not all he thought about. There wasn’t a single damned night that he didn’t imagine those world-class legs locked around his waist. At the memory of those dreams, his cock stirred.
Ah, fuck no. Not now.
Lily’s eyes were drawn to dirty blonde hair razored short at the sides, long and messy on top, falling down his nape. They tracked down a face that was all tan angles and hard jawline.
She knew that face.
Those extraordinary whiskey eyes.
She saw them in her dreams.
“Connor?” As the whispered word slowly left Lily’s lips, her gaze dropped. No force on Earth could have stopped it. She drank in his strong neck, following a tendon down to his collarbone. To shoulders so wide, they could shelter a body from even the fiercest storm.
Resilient. Unbreakable. Connor.
She looked lower.
His chest was a work of art. Sharply defined muscles and patterns of black ink.
Looked lower still, past his abdominals.
Her heart was thudding so loudly she could hear it. Residual adrenaline from thinking she was about to die? Or something else?
Narrow hips and a defined V, arrowing downwards. Downwards . . .
Holy Mary Mother of God. Lily tore her eyes away.
Connor Reid was proportionate. Some might even say blessed. What’s more, he was . . . he was . . .
Fuck,” Connor muttered grittily. This was the reason he hadn’t shifted the instant he’d seen her. He refused to stand bare-ass naked in the woods, trying to cover his dick. Any other woman and he’d be able to control it.
But not this one.
All she’d had to do was whisper his name and he wanted to kneel at her feet. And the way her eyes trailed down him, he’d swear it was sexual if he didn’t know better.
But he did.
He knew it was entirely one-sided. That to Lily Amaretto, he may as well be the devil.


About Novalee Swan

Novalee Swan writes paranormal and contemporary romance and is the author of the Shifter Town series. She loves creating alpha heroes who know how to scorch the sheets. Her books are fun, sweet, sexy and satisfying.

Novalee has a creative writing degree that she puts to all kinds of use, including editing and blogging. She lives down under where she writes with a fur baby called Emma for a foot warmer. She reads too much — is that possible? — likes pretty things, and jumps at any chance to travel.

Social Media:

Website: www.novaleeswan.com
Facebook: facebook.com/novaleeswan

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) by Cassie-Ann L. Miller


Dirty Neighbor


Keeland Masters... Growing up, he was the boy next door, my older brother’s best friend, the guy who asked me to the prom...and then stood me up. He just vanished into thin air.

Now that he’s back in town, he wants to come over to play. And I’m not talking hopscotch.

But he’s hurt me once, so I’m sticking to my side of the fence no matter how good he looks pushing that lawnmower in all his tanned, toned shirtless glory.

Samantha Trotten... I should have been her first kiss. I should have been her "first time". Instead, I ended up being the first a**hole to break her heart. But a lot of things were outside of my control back then.

I've been to hell and back over the past few years. She doesn't even know the half of it.

But now, I'm back in town. And though I know I should keep my distance, all I want is a do-over...And I won't quit till I get it.

"Dirty Neighbor" is book one in the "Dirty Suburbs", a series of full-length, stand-alone romantic comedies set in small town Illinois.



Available on Amazon
US / UK / CA / AU


Read the first chapter:

Chapter 1

KEELAND

I veer off of the I-90 and guide my Harley onto the off-ramp. I grin to myself as I glance up at the huge, green highway sign looming above the road.

Welcome to Reyfield, Illinois.

I never thought I’d ever feel so damn happy to see that sign again but after all I’ve been through over the past three years, I just want something simple and familiar. I want to be in a place where I don’t feel antsy, like I’ve got to keep looking over my shoulder.

Reyfield is it. It’s almost like coming home…

Almost.

I’m well aware that the Masters’ left a lot of destruction in our wake the last time we were in this town – unpaid bills, unsaid goodbyes and at least one very broken heart.  

Maybe it’s time to pay old debts, heal old wounds and make amends as best I can. Maybe it’s time for a fresh start.

It’s a chilly night. Fall is creeping its way into town. I breeze through the streets and everything feels familiar. It all gives me a little thrill in the pit of my stomach. The gothic architecture of the Presbyterian church…The washed-out “Go Tigers!” banner hanging outside of our old high school…The field where we played football…The burger joint we used to go to for lunch when the school cafeteria’s offerings resembled road kill topped with warm dog food...

I take a left off of Clifford Boulevard and pull onto Hyatt Street. The corner store is right where I left it. I cut my engine in the parking lot and stroll through the front door. I give a quick nod to the middle-aged woman sitting behind the cash register and make my way down the narrow, brightly-lit aisles.

Man, it feels good to just walk down the aisles of a freakin’ convenience store. When you’ve been locked away for as long as I have, you learn to appreciate the simple things.

I stand in front of the chip display for a moment, trying to decide between vinegar and barbecue. “Fuck it…” I’m having both. And how about a bag of jalapeño-cheddar, too? I’m making up for lost time, after all.

I grab a case of beer — the cheap kind that we used to buy with our fake IDs when we were teenagers. I’m feeling awfully nostalgic tonight. Then, I grab more chocolate-covered pretzel sticks than any self-respecting 27-year-old man ever should.

When I get to the condom aisle, I pick up eight three-packs of XL Magnums.

Yes, that might seem overly ambitious but I haven't had sex in three freakin’ years and whoever I take home with me tonight is in for a hell of a good time. The ladies don’t call me Master Kee for nothing. My main priority tonight is to drain the tank into the first acceptable-looking broad that comes my way and to be honest, ‘acceptable-looking’ is pretty much open for interpretation at this point.

Because I’m horny enough to fuck my way through the Reyfield phonebook.

I drop my goodies onto the counter and the cashier eyes me with an arched brow and a subtle grin. “Exciting night planned?” she asks, tipping her chin towards the condoms. The innuendo in her voice is undeniable.

I give her a second glance. Is she Ms. Acceptable for tonight?

Nah, she’s probably older than my mother and she smells like she’s been marinating in cigarette smoke and cheap perfume all day. My definition of “acceptable” may be loose, but not that loose.

I nod politely as I glimpse at the number glowing on the screen of the cash register and pull a $100 bill out of my wallet. She drags her long fingernails along my palm as she deposits the change into my hand.

Did my cock just twitch?

Down, buddy. Down.

“Have a good night, Big Boy,” she purrs as I give her a quick salute and duck out the door.

I store my goodies in my backpack and jump onto my bike. When I rev it, the poor thing lets out a choked straining sound. I’ll look into it first thing in the morning, but for now, I’m on mission to get laid.

ASAP.

Chapter 2
SAMANTHA

“Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out...Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out...Breathe in...hold hold hold...breathe out…”

I take long deep breaths, doing my best to synchronize my rhythm to the sound of Isla’s voice pouring into my ears. The cool morning breeze blowing over my face and the sun smiling down on my skin make it that much easier.

This is one of the few things that I absolutely adore about being back in Reyfield. It’s a quiet, serene town. Except for the occasional ruckus caused by the young children playing on the street and the yapping of the over-talkative Yorkshire terrier a few doors down, the place is a sanctuary. A slice of suburban perfection. The ideal place for soul-searching and self-reflection.

But Reyfield is just too slow-paced for me. Take Thornbush Lane, for example. The cul-de-sac is charming, for lack of a better word – the kind of place you’d go to raise a family or grow old, I guess. A cast of interesting characters occupy the lane. Nancy and Delores, the gray-haired duo who’ve appointed themselves as the two-woman neighborhood watch, the eccentric mailman who delivers my mail to the wrong house half the time, meddlesome neighbors who drop by unannounced when you least expect them. That all adds to the cozy feel of the place. But for an ambitious 25-year-old like me, Reyfield is nothing but a dead end.

Growing up, I couldn’t wait to get out of the suburbs. And that’s what I did as soon as I could. I moved 15 miles south to Chicago for college and then took a job in the city. Everything was going relatively well until four months ago when I suddenly got laid off. Now, here I am, unemployed, single, broke and for the past six weeks, living in my parents’ house again.

Ugh!

Thank god mom and dad are staying in Florida with grams till next spring so at least I have the house to myself. I did not work my ass off for my certified internal auditor designation only to end up living with my parents forevermore. Basically, I need to find a new job stat so that I can move back to the city as soon as possible.

Anyway, Isla swore up and down that meditation would help with my job search. She says that I’m ‘scattered’ and that’s why I haven’t been able to find a new position since I got laid off. Her new meditation recording is supposed to help me find my ‘center’ and ‘recalibrate’ in order to attract a suitable employment opportunity.

Her words, not mine.

For weeks, I resisted. The old Sammie thought that Isla was delusional and maybe even slightly off her rocker. The new Sammie is so hopeless and desperate and sick of being unemployed that I’m pretty much willing to try anything to get a damn job. Sending out resumes, compulsively checking job-listing websites and waiting impatiently for the postman to show up with my mail every morning has proven to be an ineffective strategy.

So, it was time to try something new.

I’ve been using this meditation track for a few days now and if nothing else, it’s relaxing and distracts me from the ticker tape of worry, doubt and anxiety constantly running through my mind.

I shift my foot slightly, determined to ignore the itch prickling at my heel. I'm going to meditate the fuck out of it. Forget you, stupid itch. It's time to turn ‘inwards’ because my money’s low and I need a miracle right about now. I focus solely on my breathing.

Eventually, time and space slip away. I think I’m in that space that Isla’s always talking about. ‘The nothingness’ is what she calls it. I feel content. Satiated. That tiny, niggling voice in the back of my head gnawing at me to get off my butt and go search through the local classified ads again? I smother that bitch under fluffy pillows of bliss.

“Breathe in…hold hold hold…breathe out…”

Putata-putata-putata

What the fuck is that?

Putata-putata-putata

Is that a motorcycle? Who the hell on Thornbush Lane has a motorcycle?

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to channel my inner yogi in a futile attempt to drown out the hiccup-hiccup of the engine as it sputters to death nearby. It seems like the harder I try to ignore it, the louder it gets.

I grudgingly yank out my earbuds and ease out of my cross-legged position on my oversized cushion on the back patio. I peer around the side of the house and notice a shiny black Harley Davidson lying on its side in the driveway just as a tall, shirtless figure slinks across the front lawn next door.

What the fuck? Nobody’s supposed to be over there.

As far as I know, dad tried to get that place rented for months before he finally gave up in defeat at the end of July. Illinois’s economy is bad and nobody wants to pay a premium to rent that crumbling, two-story colonial with its unkempt lawn and weather-beaten clapboards. Still, my stubborn father refuses to lower the rental. He’d rather the house sit vacant. I guess he can afford to be picky about his tenants. He doesn’t have a mortgage to pay on it since he inherited the house when his uncle Kramer died back when I was a kid.


I bring my attention back to the very bold intruder next door. I can’t see his face because the tall hedges now hide him from view. I should probably call the police but I decide to check it out myself. I grab a weapon – the rake leaning against the side of the house – as I inch cautiously towards the front yard.

I trek across the driveway separating the two houses, passing the beastly motorcycle and an open toolbox on the way. I stomp through the overgrown lawn and up the stairs to the front porch. The door is wide open and for some reason that puts me at ease. A burglar would probably be more discreet than that, right?

The knot in my stomach loosens a bit. This is probably all some huge misunderstanding.

I stick my head into the doorway without stepping inside, just as a precaution. “Hello?”

A shadowy figure approaches, moving down the long, dimly-lit hallway that leads from the kitchen to the front door. Sunrays slice through the kitchen curtains, illuminating him from behind and revealing his silhouette bit by bit.

And what a sexy silhouette it is.

My eyes climb his frame in slow motion.

His large, sturdy feet.

His long, muscular legs and the gray basketball shorts hanging low on his hips.

Well, damn…

The delicious V punctuating his washboard abs.

The colorful, intricate tattoos ornamenting his strong chest and those brawny arms.

Oh, wow…

His square, stubbly chin.

Those full lips slowly spreading into a wide smile.

My god — I can’t breathe…

His blue eyes, as pale and electric as a flash of lightening.

He shoves his large hand through his messy blond hair. “Hey…”

My heart stops cold in my chest and a shiver runs through my body. The rake slips from my fingers and lands at my feet with a metallic clang. I choke out his name.

Keeland…?”







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