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#NEW Coming of Age Romance: Lawson: Cerberus 2.0 Book 1 by Marie James

11/7/2017

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The highly-anticipated continuation of the CERBERUS MC Series is NOW LIVE!
Grab Lawson: Cerberus 2.0 by Marie James TODAY!



SNEAK PEEK 

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​“Perfect,” I whisper with a quick pop of my lips.
I could lie to myself, claim dry lips as the reason I’ve slicked on tinted gloss rather than my normal chapstick, but it would do no good. Lawson hasn’t left my brain since the minute he showed up. Last night, after feeling his hot skin against my fingers, I tossed and turned, the interaction on repeat in my brain. There’s nothing I can do about the redness in my eyes from lack of sleep, but he doesn’t really pay me any attention, so maybe I’ll get lucky, and he’ll not even notice.
But, I want him to notice me.
Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all, I grab my keys and cell phone from my desk. I don’t get boy crazy. Yeah, I’ve found guys at school good-looking, but getting to the point I want to doodle their names on my notebook never entered my mind.
Making sure I pulled my door closed behind me, I make my way down the stairs with a grin on my face. I know most teens spend their summers vacationing in the sun, going to parties, and sleeping late, but I’ve enjoyed going to the animal shelter four to five days a week. Even though summer is coming to a close, and I’ve been busy with the animals, I still get excited about my volunteer work. There’s nothing greater than the smiles on the dogs’ faces when I show up. 
In the kitchen, I find Dad, Pop, and Drew at the breakfast nook, each eating breakfast. Over the last week, Drew has stopped shoveling food into his mouth like someone is going to take it away from him. He’s growing comfortable in his skin here, acclimating better than I thought he would, after witnessing his first meal with us.
“Hey, Delilah,” Drew says with a quick smile before taking another bite of chocolate cereal.
“Morning,” I respond and head to the coffee pot.
“Coffee?” Pop asks noticing my change in routine.
“Yeah,” I mutter pulling two cups from the cabinet. Being nice, I decide to make a cup for Lawson. He hasn’t gotten out of bed before noon since his first night here, so I know these early days are going to be brutal for him. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Too excited about the party to sleep, huh?” Dad smiles over his own steaming cup of java.
“Something like that,” I answer. “Where’s Lawson? You told him nine, right?”
“He’s still sleeping,” Drew answers before Dad can respond to my question.
“I’m sure he’s awake,” Dad says. “Run up and grab him. You don’t have a set time to be there, but I know you hate being late, even if the schedule you're keeping is your own.”
I grumble to myself as I finish fixing my cup and refuse to be nice any longer. His cup sits empty when I turn and head back up the stairs. It’s rude to keep people waiting, and rudeness is a pet peeve of mine.
Knocking on his bedroom door goes unanswered. I look over my shoulder, noticing the bathroom door is open, and the light is off. Last night’s scene runs through my head again, and I do my best to ignore the full body shiver that runs up my spine and out of my fingertips.
Agitated, I turn the doorknob and swing open the door. The bang as it swings wide and hits the wall startles the sleeping boy on the bottom bunk. He jerks, his large hand shooting straight to his dick as if protecting it at all costs is priority number one. The sheets are tangled around his legs as if he got too warm in the night and kicked them off.
Unbidden, a small sigh escapes my lips at the sight of his straining penis, large and thick, behind his sweats. I swallow around the lump that is forming in my throat until his husky chuckle makes the lean muscles on his stomach jump.
Unable to pull my eyes away from his body quickly, my eyes take long seconds to meet his. White teeth clamp onto his bottom lip, and his eyes hold mine in challenge.
“Wanna help me take care of my little problem?” If I thought he had a sexy voice before, I can vouch that his early morning, throaty words nearly make me breathless.
“Little?” I squeak before catching myself.
Now is not the time to get all weird and awkward, spouting the words that have no place out in the open.
“I’ll be gentle,” he assures me, the playful smile never leaving his lips. “Unless you like being gagged until tears run down your beautiful cheeks? I’m more than willing to give you what you need to have those rosy lips wrapped around my cock.”
Cock.
Such a dirty word, but for some reason, it has that shiver reigniting over my skin.
“You look terrified,” he husks out, shifting, so his body is angled more in my direction. “Sweet really. The little virgin girl scared of me. The thought of you choking on my cock makes my nuts ache. Take care of it for me, Princess.”
My eyes are once again pulled to his hand gripping his length.
“No thanks,” I finally manage to say. “You disgust me.”
He really doesn’t, but the blatant sexual innuendo is being taken too far. I hate him for calling me Princess. I hate him for thinking he can say such awful things to me. But more so, I hate myself for wanting to open my mouth to a boy for the first time in my life.
“You’ll have me in your mouth eventually,” he promises.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

MORE ABOUT LAWSON CERBERUS 2.0

My plan was as simple as they come… in theory. Show up at the Cerberus clubhouse and give dear old Dad a piece of my mind. What I didn’t expect was being welcomed by the open arms of a father who had no idea I existed.
More importantly, I didn’t anticipate HER. Delilah Donovan was a breath of fresh air. She would soon become my reason for wanting to become a better man, my reason for getting out of bed with a smile on my normally sneering face. But no matter how much I changed, she’d always be too good for a man like me.
It was over before it could even begin.

NOW LIVE & FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMTED!!!

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☆☆☆☆☆☆

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Marie James is a full-time, working mother of two boys and wife of 12 years. I've spent almost my entire lifetime living in central Texas, with only short stays in South Carolina, Alabama, and Florida. I've always wanted to write novels and just recently had the gumption to sit down and start one. My passions include reading everything under the sun and plotting out new books to write in the future.

​                                    
I Facebook I Amazon Author Page I Twitter I Instagram I GoodReads  I Facebook Fan Group I

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Second Chance Romance:  Macon by Marie James

9/14/2017

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Music is the rhythm of the soul in Macon, Marie James newest Second Chance Romance.
Find out why readers are going ga-ga over this Country Star Romance!  
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“Friends” is what you offered, and I played by your rules, but,
Adelaide Hatfield, you have to know, from that day, it was only you.

SNEAK PEEK

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Alarm bells sound off in my head, telling me it’s in my best interest if I take her up on her offer. Swiping his hands over his thighs, he just stands there, waiting for me to choose, waiting for me to come to him.
“He looks really sad,” I tell her, still not making a move toward the door handle.
“He looks like he’s realized he’s made a mistake,” she whispers.
I look at her, finding sympathy in her eyes.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I argue out loud even though the battle is internal.
“People change.”
“He told me differently once.” My eyes are drawn back to him.
​“I need to talk to him.”
“I figured.” She grabs my hand before I can climb out. “Remember your head, Addi. He already has your heart.”
I nod, but a second later, I’m climbing out and making my way to him.
“Hey,” he says with a small smile. 
“What are you doing here?” I retort. Cutting to the chase is much better than getting my hopes up. Protective arms cross over my chest even though I know he’s already inside me.
“I wanted to see you.” He slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, as if he’d reach for me if he didn’t. 
“Okay.” What else do I say? I want to run into his arms. I want to tell him I’m so happy to see him, but the picture of him on the lounger and at home wrapped around two women comes to mind, and my stomach roils.
“I needed to see you,” he amends.
The pleading in his eyes devastates me.
“I just…” he begins, but silences when Mandy walks up. “Here, let me help you with that.”
It isn’t until he reaches for the handfuls of bags in Mandy’s hands that I remember we just got back from the grocery store. She offers them to him and shrugs when I glare at her as he walks up the steps and waits at the door for us to open it.
Unlocking it, I step through, peeking my head in to make sure Renee isn’t running around in her underwear. She’s lying on the couch, TV on silent as she flips through a magazine.
“I thought you had a headache,” I challenge when she looks up at me. It’s the excuse she’s used to get out of going grocery shopping—and not for the first time. She always manages to find an excuse.
“That fuckhead came by to see you. He said he’d wait. Clearly, he’s still a liar.”
I frown, stepping farther into the house. 
“That fuckhead would wait an eternity for her,” Axton says, coming in behind me, his hands full of grocery bags.
“And he offered to help bring your food in,” Mandy adds. “Quit being so rude. You were raised better than that.”
My cheeks burning from embarrassment, I follow him into the kitchen.
“That means get off your ass and help put groceries away,” Mandy hisses from the living room. “I don’t know what’s going on with Elijah, but you can’t stop being a part of this household.”
I give Axton a weak smile as I begin to empty the bags. “Sorry.”
“I’d say I understand, but I’m an only child, so the whole sibling squabble thing isn’t something I have experience with.” He smiles back at me.
“You’ll do the shopping and putting away next week all alone. Addi and I are tired of this moping you’ve been doing,” Mandy says, continuing to lay into Renee as they both walk into the small kitchen.
“Don’t bring me into it,” I mutter.
“Shoo,” Mandy says, waving us off. “We’ll put the rest of this away.”
“You heard the lady,” Axton says, clasping my hand and tugging me from the kitchen. As soon as we’re back in the living room, I pull my hand away and watch his jovial mood melt instantly.
“Why are you here, Axton?” There’s more pleading in my eyes than there was on the front lawn. 
He swipes his hand out, indicating for me to take a seat on the sofa, and I do…at the far end, ready to get whatever this is over with while hoping he’ll take a hint and keep some distance between us. As luck will have it, he does.
“I made a mistake.” 
I have to give it to him, most people when admitting fault hang their heads, play with their hands—do anything not to look at the person they’re admitting their wrongdoing to. Instead, he looks me right in the eye, facing his faults. 
“Just one?” I can’t help the snide remark. I mean, if we’re going to open up old wounds, we should do it one hundred percent.
“Many,” he corrects. “I’ve made many mistakes where you’re concerned. I told you—”
I hold my hand up. “You don’t owe me any explanations. We don’t have to hash all of that out. If that’s why you’re here, it’s fine.”
That’s it, right? He’s here to clear his conscience. Quit reading into stuff, Addi.
“It’s not. I’m here for you.”
“What does that even mean?” It’s my turn to clasp my hands together in my lap.
“I want you. I need you.” He shakes his head before scrubbing his big hands over his face. “This isn’t coming out like I want.”
“I’m not available for anything.”
His eyes find mine and he nods, as if he expected that response.
“I need you in my life.”
“I can always use another friend, but that’s the extent of what we can be.” Just like last time, I’m on thin ice and playing with fire all in the same breath.
Friends.
As if that’s even a possibility with him. My heart is already banging in my chest and my fingers itch to touch the stubble he didn’t bother to shave before coming over.
“Friends,” he says, moving the word around in his mouth, like he’s trying to get used to it. 
I nod. “That’s it.”
“So, I can’t kiss you?”
I shake my head.
“You said that last time.”
“Friends don’t kiss.”
“You also said that last time.”
“Seriously, Axton. If you’re here because that’s what you want, you might as well leave and never darken my doorstep again.”
“I can’t tell you I don’t hope for more with you. I haven’t gone one day without thinking about you.”
“I understand.”
So much better than admitting I’m in the same boat. The last thing I need is to give him more ammunition to twist me into the form he’s made up in his mind.
“If friends is what you can give me, it’s a whole hell of a lot better than what I have right now.”
“And what’s that?”
“An emptiness in my chest—an ache that never goes away unless you’re near.”
“Maybe being friends isn’t such a good idea,” I tell him, shifting to stand from the sofa.
He clutches my arm at the elbow, urging me to look at him.
“Please,” he begs. “I won’t try anything. I swear. Just being near you is more than I have any right to ask for, but I’m not above begging.”
“You don’t have to beg.”
“But know that I will. I just want to hang out. Watch a movie, go to the lake, walk down the street together, grab dinner—anything, so long as it’s with you.”
“Why?” I don’t even recognize the huskiness in my voice as emotion from his candidness takes over.
“I’m lost,” he confesses. “Spiraling out of control, drinking too much. Things were better when you were around.”
I shake my head. “I can’t be your lifeline. I can’t be the one who saves you. You have to do that on your own.”
“And I can.” His eyes dart to my mouth, and my lips tingle. “I will. I’d just like to do it with some company. You’re the only person I can stand to be around.”
“I’m a pretty nice person,” I say with a smile. The conversation, although needing to be serious, is becoming too much for me.
“The nicest,” he agrees. “So? Friends?”
Looking down at his proffered hand, I start to second-guess everything in my life, but it doesn’t stop me from placing my hand in his.
I pull my hand away quickly, and if he’s offended or has ulterior motives, it doesn’t show on his face.
I sit back farther onto the couch and grab the remote.
“Want to go out tonight? Grab something to eat?” I tilt my head in his direction. “Not as a date. Just friends hanging out. I swear. I won’t try to kiss you. I won’t even hold your hand.”
I smile. “I guess we can hang out tonight.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆

MORE ABOUT MACON

Tossing a middle finger to Macon, Georgia as I made my way to Nashville was always the dream. Sing country music, go on tour, top the charts—with my popularity growing every day, I was on my way.

But then a gust of wind blew up your skirt, and those white cotton panties had me hooked. I didn’t know your name, and you turned down every attempt I tried to throw your way. But I knew you were different, even though you told me I was the same.

“Friends” is what you offered, and I played by your rules, but, Adelaide Hatfield, you have to know, from that day, it was only you.

I just hope I can make you see how much you mean to me before we both drown in the sorrow of what heartbreak can truly be.

NOW ONLY $0.99 & FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED

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☆☆☆☆☆☆

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Marie James is a full-time, working mother of two boys and wife of 12 years. I've spent almost my entire lifetime living in central Texas, with only short stays in South Carolina, Alabama, and Florida. I've always wanted to write novels and just recently had the gumption to sit down and start one. My passions include reading everything under the sun and plotting out new books to write in the future.
              I Facebook I Amazon Author Page I Twitter I Instagram I GoodReads  I Facebook Fan Group I

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NEW RELEASE & Sneak Peek: We Said Forever by Marie James

3/14/2017

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Grab a taste of We Said Forever by Marie James
​in a sneak peek of this NEW Sports romance!

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 The preacher makes the sign of the cross, messing up the ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
“Ridiculous,” Blaze mutters. “We’re not even fucking Catholic.”
I watch in horror as his father walks up to the simple casket and pours golden liquid on the small spray of flowers. His grandmother gasps when he pulls what looks like a burnt spoon and hypodermic needle from his pocket and lays them both on top. It’s the only emotion she’s shown since the service started.
Blaze tenses against me, but doesn’t make a move toward his father. I stare in horror as his father falls to his knees and wails about losing the love of his life. His sunken cheeks and hollow eyes don’t even dampen with tears as he howls to no one in particular, shouting that his world has come to an end.
“He’s probably the one who loaded the syringe that ended her life,” Blaze spits out, his body coiled with such rage, I’m afraid he’s going to attack his grieving dad.
I gasp, not knowing whether to keep looking on or pull him away from the cemetery. It’s the first time he’s confided exactly how she died. I wanted to ask, if only to help find a way to alleviate the pain somehow, but didn’t want to press the issue.
“We should go,” he mutters, reading my mind.
I nod and start toward his truck, unable to formulate words. He begged me not to judge him when I met his family, and I now understand why he felt the need to warn me against what I was going to see. But I don’t want to run from him. In fact, I want to hold on to him tighter than ever before. I know the last thing he wants is the pity I can’t help but feel for him, so I keep my mouth closed, only stopping our trek to the truck to scrape a clump of mud that lodged itself on the heel of my boot.
“Thomas!” a voice rings out behind us.
Thomas?
“Fuck,” he mutters, the tension multiplying in his body.
I turn with him, refusing to release his hand. He doesn’t say a word, just stands still as his grandmother closes the distance between us.
Her distaste and disapproval of me is apparent in the way she looks me up and down, her nose scrunching like she smells something fowl. I want to curl inside myself, but Blaze releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder in defiance.
“The church is hosting a lunch at my house,” she says.
“I didn’t think I’d be invited,” he says, no emotion in his voice.
“You’re not,” she agrees. “I wanted to make sure you knew you weren’t welcome in my home.”
He nods in acknowledgement, already expecting this from her.
“Or any point in the future,” she presses. “Your mother’s burial is the final tie that connects us.”
“The fuck?” I mutter before I can stop myself.
“Classy,” she mumbles before walking away.
I stare at her back, aghast at her words, behavior, and lack of grief during such a horrific time.
“I can’t believe—”
“Not now,” he pleads, turning us back to the truck.
He holds the door open for me, but doesn’t say another word as he climbs in to the driver’s side and drives out of the cemetery. Halfway back to campus, he reaches for me, pulling me into the side of his body. I begin to cry, but hang my head in shame because there are no tears marring his beautiful face. I don’t want him to read my emotions as misplaced, but I can’t hold them back any longer.
Sobs wrack my body as I lean my head against his chest, tears dripping and staining his khaki pants as we drive through town. He swallows roughly several times, but doesn’t give a voice to his own pain. They fell in a torrent last night, but I know the liquor allowed the pain to escape, and he’s too ashamed to let that happen again. I hate that he can’t grieve around me without the aid of alcohol. I don’t want to think about the pain he’ll go through—the bad decisions he’ll make when his emotions take over again and he’s alone with nothing but a bottle of Maker’s Mark to ease his discomfort.
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket as he pulls the truck into the empty parking lot of a small chain restaurant.
“You hungry?” He doesn’t make eye contact with me, probably ashamed of how I’m acting, mistaking my tears for grief at his loss rather my own inevitable loss of him.
 I shake my head, unable to face anyone right now. I must look like a hobo after crying so hard for the last twenty minutes. My face sticky from my tears, I know I’ve wiped all my makeup away.
“You need to eat. It’s late afternoon and we didn’t eat anything when we woke up.”
Unable to refuse him, especially today, I wipe my eyes one last time and flip down the visor, accessing the mirror to get a quick glance at myself. Red, swollen eyes stare back at me, empty but somehow full of staggering grief at the same time. 
“Hey,” he says, tucking a finger under my chin and directing my gaze to him. “You’re beautiful. I’m so fucking lucky to have you on my arm.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes tight, rejecting my words.
“Don’t, please.”
My lip quivers again, but I can’t regret the truth that slipped out. The urge to say them before we destroy each other is too great. He needs to know how I feel before he breaks my heart. I could feel him pulling away from me the second we climbed inside the cab of this truck and I refuse to make it easy on him.
“I do,” I insist.
“You pity me. You want me to feel better, that’s it.” I shake my head, but he can’t see since his eyes are still closed. A tear rolls down the left side of his face and my heart clenches at how broken he is. The desire to kiss it away barrels to the forefront of my mind, but I tamp it down as his eyes pop open, bloodshot and so void of emotion. 
“No one can love me.” He swallows, shaking his head. “You can’t love me, Fallyn. I’ll hurt you. I’ll ruin every amazing thing about you.”
“I know.” 
The sense of self-preservation I felt the first time I saw him at the party is even stronger today. My gut wills me to cut my losses and leave, but my heart clenches at the thought of walking away from him. I know he’s going to shred every ounce of faith I have in humanity, but for now, I love him and want to feel every lick of the raging fire until it consumes me. I’ll worry about the dusty embers I’ll become when I begin to spread across the desert, propelled into nothingness on the wind.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

MORE About We Said Forever 

Rock bottom. 

They say the only way to go from there is up, but what is “up” when you’re born into someone else’s rock bottom?

At ten, football became my first love. It’s what got me out of the house away from my self-destructive family. My love for football landed me at Las Vegas University with a full ride scholarship, and the orange on my jersey was my favorite color…until my eyes landed on the red dress Fallyn wore the night we met.

At twenty-one, I jumped off the cliff into the unknown the second Fallyn McIntyre danced in my arms at a party. I had the greatest girl in the world and the opportunity to play college ball every Saturday. My rock bottom was looking up, thanks to my two first loves.

Parties, sex, and football—life was perfect. But one drink too many, and my world came crashing down. When I chose pills over my second love, my head told me it was the best decision I ever made. The pills keep me warm and protect me from the distance Fallyn created. Percs don’t judge me. They make me feel alive. 

Threes.

They say the best things come in threes, but one leads to a stable future, one is my salvation, and the other drags me to hell—a hell I’d willingly burn in for eternity…if it weren’t for my second love.

NOW AVAILABLE & FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED
**Only 99cents**

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☆☆☆☆☆☆

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Marie James is a full-time, working mother of two boys and wife of 12 years. I've spent almost my entire lifetime living in central Texas, with only short stays in South Carolina, Alabama, and Florida. I've always wanted to write novels and just recently had the gumption to sit down and start one. My passions include reading everything under the sun and plotting out new books to write in the future.
Facebook I Amazon Author Page I Twitter I Instagram I GoodReads  I Facebook Fan Group I

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