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Never Let You Go by Monica Murphy

5/3/2016

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Serial Killer. Victim. Son.   Got your attention, right?
Find out what happens and how Katie & Will get their happily ever after in
Never Let you Go by Monica Murphy.  
You are not going to love this exciting conclusion and it's NOW LIVE! 

Read an excerpt, enter to win a signed paperback & $25 Gift Card!  
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Excerpt

“Maybe I care,” she retorts. “Think about what this will do to us.”
“What could it do? Force us to admit that yes, we’re in a relationship now? What’s wrong with that?”
“This so-called relationship only happened because you sought me out and then lied to me!” Her voice is shrill, her eyes wild, and she visibly shakes. She’s angry.
At me.
“I never meant—” I clamp my lips shut when I see her hostile expression. She looks ready to pounce. Christ, maybe she’s right. Maybe we shouldn’t have met today. Our hurt feelings are still too close to the surface, too raw and painful.
“Do you really think meeting me today was a mistake?” I need to know her answer, though I might not like it.
Katie watches me, pressing her lips together. I wait for her response, air lodged in my throat, my heart tripping over itself in my chest. I feel like it’s all come down to this. “This won’t work,” she whispers.
“What won’t?”
“Us. The two of us . . . together. We need to accept it.” Her face almost crumples but she somehow keeps it together, all while she slaughters my heart with her words. “We shouldn’t be seen together in public. If anyone recognizes us, it will become this—thing, and soon the media will be talking. About us and our sick relationship. And I don’t want that. I don’t think you do either.”
My spine stiffens involuntarily and I slowly back away from her, holding my hands up in front of me in pure defensive mode. As if my position can ward o the blow only her words can deliver.
I thought my father knew how to pack a punch, saying just the right thing to make me internally bleed. A few choice words from Katie Watts and I feel like I’m near death.
“You want me gone? I’m gone,” I tell her, but I don’t budge. I’m hoping she’ll stop me. Despite the pain she’s causing, I don’t want to walk away from her. Even though it feels like my heart is about to crack into a million tiny pieces. I swear she already broke my heart when she first found out who I really was and ran, exiting my life like she was never in it.
Now she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. Doesn’t want Lisa to know. The rational side of my brain understands why she might feel that way. But the irrational side, the emotional side, is screaming in agony over her rejection, demanding that I hurt her back.
My vengeful side makes me think of my father.
I rub a hand across my chest to ease the radiating ache, but it doesn’t help. The way Katie watches me isn’t helping either.
“It’s for the best,” she whispers. “The minute she spots us, she’ll tell . . . everyone. And then we’re in trouble. They’ll twist our relationship into this weird, sick thing, and I can’t. I can’t bear it, Ethan. I’ve already suffered through too much and so have you. This—we’re not worth it.”
My mouth drops open. We’re not worth it? She’s the only person in my life who’s worth anything.
“I’m—I’m sorry.” The choked words leave her and I can’t say anything in return.
She turns and leaves, her steps hurried, her at black shoes slapping against the pavement as she scurries away. I watch her go, don’t stop her, don’t say her name. I don’t do a damn thing, as if I’m paralyzed, and I wonder for one crazy moment if I might be.
But I’m not. I’m just struck numb by her words, by her worry. She’s right. I know she’s right. The media will turn our relationship into a train wreck, and with good reason.
We are a train wreck. We shouldn’t have happened, but we did. No one else knows what it’s like to be me. No one under-stands what we went through together except her and me. But she has walked away from me yet again. Practically ran, and I did nothing about it.
Breathing deep, I tell myself to stay strong. Either this will work or it won’t—but I want it to. I’m desperate to keep that connection between us.
Yet I need to understand and respect her feelings. Forgive her for walking away from me so easily. It’s damn hard. That tiny, vulnerable part buried deep within me, that little boy who never felt wanted, the one who spent his entire life moving through it essentially alone . . .
He is devastated.
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Book Summary & Purchase links

The second novel in this darkly sexy contemporary series from bestselling author Monica Murphy wraps up an emotionally powerful two-part tale of forbidden love. 
The truth hurts, they say—and my pain cuts deep. While I was falling for Ethan, he was deceiving me the entire time. He held a huge secret, protected by his lies. When I discovered what he was hiding, the truth shook my world, threatening to ruin us forever. Ruin me. But I soon realized that what we share can’t be destroyed.

The connection between us is too strong. It always has been. I can’t deny him any longer. And I can’t deny my truth: I’m in love with Ethan.

I don’t want to let him go.

While we’re trying our best to make this relationship work, other forces are fighting against us. My family, who wants to keep me safe. The media obsessed with my tragic past. The public that feeds off of it. Even Ethan’s father—the man who nearly destroyed me all those years ago. He’s doing his best to finish the job.

Despite my love for Ethan, the doubts creep in, clouding my mind. Is he worth the pain? Will our love survive, or will we have no choice but to end it—end us—once and for all?

Amazon US
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Meet Monica Murphy

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New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She’s a workaholic who loves her job. When she’s not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and contemporary romance and is published with Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.
Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of her books and inquiries regarding foreign translation should be directed to her agent Kimberly Whalen.

Stalk Her:  Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest



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Exclusive Excerpt: Never Tear Us Apart by Monica Murphy

12/20/2015

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We're thrilled to share a sneak peek of NEVER TEAR US APART by New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy. We read an advance copy and this is Monica's best work to date... a dark and brilliantly plotted story guaranteed to evoke strong emotions, chilling goosebumps and an unexpected ending that leaves a lasting impression. Read an exclusive excerpt and click here to pre-order today.

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Exclusive Excerpt

Katherine
Now
 
I am giddy with anticipation after answering Ethan’s final text. He wants to see me. 
 
Me. 
 
Silly, messed-up me. 
 
I can’t focus, can hardly think straight. That sign, keep calm and carry on? I couldn’t do that if I tried. 
 
I know what’s going on, though. 
 
I understand. 
 
I think. 
 
I have a crush. A real-life, bona fide crush on a sweet, goodlooking guy who I think is also interested in me. He must be if he said he wanted to see me again, right? 
 
I can’t believe I’m so comfortable with him. It’s so unlike me. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Men make me nervous, and with good reason. I’ve been hurt too many times to trust a man who is a virtual stranger. 
 
Ethan didn’t feel like a stranger at all. He felt like someone I’ve known for a long time. He’s comfortable—and not in a bad way. In a good, exciting way, if comfortable can even feel like that, which I think it can. I caught him watching me more than once, and every time our gazes connected, I experienced butterflies breaking free in my stomach, making my breath shuddery and my entire body quake. 
 
Ridiculous. 
 
Thrilling. 
 
I toss my phone on the couch and dance around my house in my socks, my feet sliding on the hardwood floor. I almost fall but catch myself, giggling as I twirl around in a circle, making myself dizzy. 
 
Or maybe I’m dizzy from Ethan. A man whose last name I don’t even know. 
 
But for once I don’t care. 
 
I just want to get to know him. Find out more. 
 
Find out . . . 
 
Everything.

 

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Synopsis and Purchase Link
New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 5th

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A long time ago, when I was fifteen and a completely different person, I saved a girl’s life. I spent only a handful of hours with her, but somehow, we connected—and I’ve never been the same. No one understands what we went through. No one knows what it’s like to be us. We survived, yet I don’t feel like I’m really living—until now. Eight years later, I find her. I want to make her mine. I need to make her mine. But she’ll hate me forever when she finds out who I really am.


Buy Never Tear Us Apart

About the Author

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New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband and three children. She's a workaholic who loves her job. When she's not busy writing, she also loves to read and travel with her family. She writes new adult and contemporary romance and is published with Bantam and Avon. She also writes romance as USA Today bestselling author Karen Erickson.
Facebook | Twitter | Website

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Chapter One Excerpt: In the Dark by Monica Murphy

8/24/2015

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In the Dark by New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy is live! Read an except from chapter one, written from Gabe's sexy and very entertaining POV. as he shares his thought about Lucy. Plus, check out some sizzling teasers!

Chapter One Excerpt: Meet Gabe

Gabe

I never thought I’d admit this, least of all to myself, but I’m man enough to realize…

I am head over heels in love. Like, a complete goner. Sprung over a girl. A gorgeous, sexy as hell, makes me wanna lose my mind girl who just about fucking slays me every single time I look at her.

And when I say she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, I’m not lying. Not even close. With her golden tan skin and long, dark brown hair that falls in glossy waves down her back. A body to freaking die for, with curves that look made for a man’s hands. My hands. A real woman’s curves, with flaring hips and full breasts and a narrow waist—a body she casually flaunts in a tiny string bikini that should be made freaking illegal. I could stare at her all day.

I do stare at her all day.

The problem?

I don’t even know her name.

“God, you perv, are you watching her again?”

My sister’s whiny voice pierces my eardrums and I turn to glare at her for a long, quiet moment before I resume my position. “Go away,” I mutter, sounding like I’m twelve. I used to tell Sydney exactly that when I was twelve. Back when she’d been a seven-year-old pest constantly trying to get up in my business.

Nothing much has changed. Only now, she’s an eighteen-year-old pest trying to get up in my business.

“Seriously, she’s going to call the cops if you keep this up.” She sits on the lounge chair next to mine, acting like she has nowhere else to be. Considering we’re both trapped in this elaborate fortress of a house that my parents have rented for us for the entire summer, I guess Sydney really doesn’t have anywhere to be. Not like we have any friends in Santa Barbara. We’ve gone out to dinners. We’ve gone to the beach. We’ve gone to the country club as guests of our parents and I chatted up a hot girl—not as hot as my newfound love but she was decent—until my father came along and cock-blocked me by saying it was time to go home. Making me look like a loser who still lives with his parents.

He’s definitely not what I would call a proper wingman.

We’ve been here almost three weeks and my sister and I are slowly going insane.

“Maybe I should be the one to dial 911 and end this stare fest once and for all,” Sydney says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She’s practically pouting, not that I can blame her. I’m climbing the walls here. I’m falling in love with a woman and I don’t even know who the hell she is.

Clearly I’m losing my mind. And irritable about it too.

“Are you purposely trying to be a bitch? Or does it just come naturally?” I glare at her again, just in time to see the hurt fill her eyes before she leaps to her feet and takes off without another word.

Sighing, I return my gaze to my newfound love interest. I’m sitting on the balcony of the second floor, gazing down at the backyard of the next-door neighbor’s. That’s where my girl hangs out every afternoon by her pool. Her curvy body stretched out on a lounge chair, sunglasses covering her eyes. She jumps in the water approximately every twenty minutes to cool off. Doesn’t bother drying herself with a towel, just lies back down, usually on her stomach, her skin glistening with little droplets of water, her ass absolute perfection and barely covered by the black bikini bottom that haunts me in my most perverted fantasies.

Yeah. So I’ve jacked off to thoughts of her late at night. Early in the morning. Sometimes in the shower. This is what happens when a healthy twenty-one-year old male is cooped up with his family for too long. He resorts to jerking himself off instead of gathering up the balls to go and talk to his temporary neighbor so he can get to know her.

I’ve turned into the world’s biggest weenie, I swear to God. I miss my friends. Shep and Tristan wouldn’t stand for this. They’d tell me to man up. Encourage me to go talk to her. Hell, they’d probably abduct me out of this hellhole and take me back home. This sterile mansion-slash-summer house sure as hell isn’t home.

Like clockwork I watch my girl take off her sunglasses and rise from the lounge chair. She reaches behind her, running her fingers beneath her bikini bottom, tugging the fabric as if she’s trying to cover her ass completely but it doesn’t work. The bottom curve of her ass cheeks hang out and my cock twitches at the sight.

I’m starting to believe she was put on this earth just to torture me.

She walks to the edge of the pool, her toes curling as she raises her arms above her head. It’s like a little ritual she performs with her every pool break. She goes into position. Pauses for a moment. Her chest rises as she takes a breath, drawing my attention to her full breasts and then she jumps. Executing a perfect dive into the pool. She barely makes a splash and I watch with a dry mouth as she streaks beneath the crystal clear water, popping up at the deep end as she slicks her hair back with both hands. Even from this distance I know little drops of water cling to her thick eyelashes and she blinks. Licks her lips and I stifle a groan.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous. I lean closer to the railing, the metal hot as I press my bare chest against it and I let out an unexpected yelp when I come into contact with the scorching metal.

The sound makes her whirl around and I go completely still, praying she doesn’t notice me.

Praying that she does.

She slowly turns in a circle, treading water, her expression one of quiet alarm. I swallow hard and ease back. Thankful she doesn’t look up. Wishing that she would look up, internally arguing with myself because I’m not one hundred percent sure if I want her to see me or not.

What if Sydney’s right and my neighbor does think I’m some sort of perv ogling her every chance I get? Because that’s basically the truth, as ashamed as I am to admit it. I’m not one to ogle. I see a girl I like I go talk to her. Get to know her. Eventually get in her panties. That’s how I roll. That’s how I’ve always rolled. There’s no point in falling. No point in dating. Ultimately I won’t be able to choose the one I want so why bother?

She lifts her head and our gazes clash. I freeze in place as I stare into her dark brown eyes, the air stuck in my lungs making it hard to breathe.

The seconds tick by as we continue to watch each other but they feel like minutes. Hours. My skin tightens. My blood runs hot and there’s a dull roar in my ears. I’m fully prepared for her to glare. Maybe even to yell and tell me to fuck off.

But then she smiles. A sensual curve of full lips, a dimple appearing on the right side of her mouth just before she tosses her head and floats on her back, her feet kicking, her breasts rising above the water that gently laps at her skin.

Fuck me, she is seriously the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

Without thought I stand, letting my gaze linger on her for one more minute before I leave the balcony.

And go claim what I want.

Her.



Hot Teasers
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Synopsis and Purchase Link 
Stand-alone

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The girl next door isn't what she seems...

Stuck spending the summer with his screwed up family, Gabriel Walker is bored out of his mind and looking for an adventure. And he seems to find it with the hot girl who lives next door. The attraction between them is instant. Electric. Soon they're spending every stolen minute together. Talk about the perfect summer fling...

Lucy isn't what she seems. She doesn't live next door--she's the girl who's been hired to house sit for the summer. If Gabe wants to believe she's a spoiled rich girl looking for some fun, she can go along with that. After the summer, she'll never see him again.

They don't count on running into each other at college. Now Lucy must keep up the pretense of being a rich girl--and it's exhausting. She knows she's falling in love with Gabe and she's scared he feels the same. Will he still care about her when he discovers the truth?

Buy In the Dark
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Chapter Reveal & Pre-order Alert: Taming Lily by Monica Murphy

7/6/2015

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Taming Lily, book 3 and the final installment of the Fowler Sisters series, by New York Times bestselling author, Monica Murphy, releases on July 7th! Want a sneak peek? Read  a chapter and check out some sizzling teasers. Each book in this series can be read as stand-alones.

Chapter Reveal

Max

I hate babysitting jobs, though I don’t know if I’d categorize this particular job as babysitting. I rarely take them on because they suck and they’re boring, but the money was too good to resist. If I took every fucking job that came my way because of how much they offer to pay me, I’d be a very rich man working the absolute bottom-of-the-barrel shit jobs. Busting cheating spouses. Catching them in compromising positions. Following them, taking photos, feeling sordid and dirty as I reveal said pictures and watch my client either rage angrily or fall apart in tears.

Those types of jobs are a dime a dozen.

No thanks. I’m lucky enough that I can pick and choose. Though I felt like with this one, I didn’t necessarily pick it. The job chose me.

It also intrigued me. She intrigued me. Not that I’d ever con- fess that to a living soul. I have integrity. An image to fulfill and maintain, especially when it comes to my business. I’m not one to let my dick make business decisions for me, but this girl . . . is unlike any girl I’ve ever seen before.

The moment I looked at her photo, I knew.

I watch her now, from my aisle seat on the plane, sitting five rows behind her. She’s in the opposite aisle seat and I can get a good look at her profile if I lean forward slightly, which is exactly what I’m doing. It’s wild, how she appears completely different from the photos I saw of her on the web last night while I did my research.

Whereas the endless images in my Google search featured a sexy-as-hell, scantily dressed woman doing whatever the fuck she wants all over Manhattan, this woman I’m watching now is quiet. Subdued. Wearing one of those matching sweat outfits in black with white trim, the word PINK scrawled across her very fine ass in glittery sequins. She blends right in on the plane, looks like every other woman her age. Not like the rich-as-fuck heiress she really is.

When she first boarded her hood was up and she had sun- glasses on, as if she were trying to conceal her identity, though really she looked obvious as hell, at least to me. The media is always after her, always on her tail, so her incognito mode shouldn’t be a surprise.

But considering she’s dressed nothing like her usual self, I figure she became comfortable and eventually tugged the hood down, revealing her long, golden-brown hair streaked with bright blond highlights pulled into a high ponytail.

Offering me a tantalizing view of her perfect profile.

Dainty nose, plump lips. Long eyelashes, high cheekbones, slightly pointed chin. Every time someone passes her by she lifts her head, then immediately looks down. Almost as if she’s afraid someone is going to approach her.

Like she’s worried someone will realize who she is.

But no one would. She’s unrecognizable. I’d bet top dollar the only one on this plane who knows she’s Lily Fowler is . . .

Me.

The moment the plane touches down I whip out my phone and switch it out of airplane mode, watching as a text message appears.

I answer my client with a quick yes.

Are you watching her now?

I answer again in the affirmative, my gaze fixed on Lily as she, too, grabs her phone and starts to scroll through it.

Try and grab her laptop now.

Frowning at my phone, I contemplate how to reply. I can’t just make a grab while we’re still on the freaking plane and run. I have to be subtle about this. I warned my overeager, over- insistent client. I don’t make rash decisions. I’m not impulsive, at least when it comes to work. There’s a method to my madness, and acting like a goddamn thief isn’t part of it.

I finally decide to answer.

I already informed you I’m not going to move too fast.
 We don’t have much time.
 Slowly I shake my head, glancing up to study Lily before I start typing.

We have enough. I’ll get the job done. Don’t worry.

The plane starts to slow as we make our way to the gate and the passengers are getting restless, including myself. My legs are cramped up. Sitting in coach sucks ass and is almost too much for my six-foot-two frame. My knees fucking ache. Even Lily shifts and moves in her seat, her head turning to glance behind her, straight at me. Our gazes meet briefly and she looks away, pretending that she never saw me.

Anger burns in my gut. Anger and lust. An interesting combo, one I’ve never suffered through before while working. I pride myself on keeping my distance. Work is work. My personal life is just that . . . personal. Not that I have much of one. Not that I have anyone in my fucking life, which is just the way I like it.

But this girl’s rejection, as brief as it was, digs at me. Pisses me off.

My phone dings and I check it.

She’s fast. Tricky. You need to take your chances when you can.


A snort escapes me. Trying to tell me how to do my job. I wish I could reply with a big “fuck you,” but I don’t. I have more class than that.

I’m faster. Trickier. Trust me. I’ll make it happen. You’ll get what you want.


As I slip my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, the flight attendant starts talking over the intercom, telling us to remain seated until the seat-belt fastened lights turn off. We’re at the gate; all the passengers are poised and ready to grab their shit and disembark. I don’t bother. My carry-on is sitting in the compartment directly above me. I can tell that the lady next to me is dying to leap out of her seat, but I’ll make her wait. Her irritation is already a palpable thing. Like I give a damn.

I gotta move slow. The last thing I need is to catch my subject’s attention. Not this early in the game.

Lily jumps to her feet the second the seat-belt light shuts off, popping open the overhead compartment and pulling out a bag. A laptop bag, from the size of it.

With the coveted laptop most likely lying inside.

I curl my fingers into my palms, resting them on my knees. I want that bag. No. Scratch that. My client wants that bag— more like what’s inside of it. So I want it too.

And I will do anything to get it. Anything. 


Teasers
Click on pictures for full view

Synopsis and Purchase Link
Stand-alone and Book 3 of the Fowler Sisters Series


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I’m in trouble. Again. And instead of facing my problems head-on, I’ve run away. Far away this time, and no one can catch me—not my two younger sisters, Violet and Rose, not my father, my grandmother, or that witch Pilar who wants to take control of my family’s cosmetics company. Now I’m in Hawaii, enjoying the sun and sand and water, where nobody knows the hot mess known as Lily Fowler. And I’m loving every minute of it.

But someone is watching me. Following me. He’s gorgeous. Soon we’re talking, and against all my instincts, I reveal bits and pieces of myself to Max. It feels good, though I know he can’t be the man for me. These sudden feelings we share are way too complicated, too fraught, too intense.

Then everything explodes and I’m forced to return home. My intentions have always been true, but now everyone’s mad at me. I don’t know who to turn to anymore . . . except to Max. He’s the one I want to trust. But I’m not so sure I should. Maybe it’s worth the risk—what-ifs be damned. . . .



Buy Taming Lily

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