Most of us ony dream of dating the frontman of a band.
Natasha is living our dream.
Alex is LA, muscles, adrenaline, motorcycles wrapped up with a little bit of romance.
Don't miss their story!
B.L. put their beginning on sale for $0.99. Grab Wonderlust now and get started.
One-click to Pre-Order Wonderment so it is delivered as soon as it drops!
​

Excerpt from Wonderment

It didn’t take Diego long to do my makeup. Alex was pacing back and forth at that point, waiting for me. Patience wasn’t something he was very good at. I’d even thrown him a chocolate bar to pacify him, but it only kept him busy for a few minutes.    
“There you go, Cupcake. Don’t let Alex smudge your lipstick straight away. You don’t look like the easy type.” After swatting my butt, Diego pushed me toward Alex.
“Finally,” he teased, circling his arms around me. “You look beautiful, Straight Lace.” All I could do was smile in response as his lips pressed urgently against mine.  Diego sighed behind me, but I didn’t really care about my lipstick right then. 
“We’re going on your bike?” I gasped as he handed me a helmet. Alex’s Harley was legendary, but Shane had once told me that he only rode it alone.
“Is that a problem? You’re not scared, are you?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to go on this bike since I was a kid!” My excitement was obvious. Alex let out a loud laugh and shook his head. 
“You’re not that much younger than me, Nat. Don’t make me sound so old.” I got onto the bike behind him and hugged him tight. “Whoa. Don’t hold me too tight. I need to breathe,” he joked, looking at me over his shoulder. I was still beaming like a Cheshire cat. 
 Alex’s bike was fast. I loved the adrenaline rush that I got as we rode. The growl of the engine sent tremors through my body. With my arms around his waist, I held on tight as Alex accelerated. The sudden rush of wind made my hair that was free from the helmet dance frantically behind my back.  The world around us was flashing by so fast it was a blur. I couldn’t get enough of this feeling. I’d never felt so free on an open road before. 
Alex took us to a secluded restaurant on the outskirts of LA. It was lit up with hundreds of twinkle lights and had ivy climbing the walls of the whitewash building.  
“Where did you find this place?” I asked as he entwined his fingers with mine. “It’s really pretty.”
“I found it on my last ride up here. It looked like our kind of place.” I knew he meant no one would interrupt us here, which I was really looking forward to. It wasn’t very easy to find places outside of his mansion that we could be together. 
He allowed me to go in first. The restaurant was empty. A single table laid up for two was all I could see. “You booked out the entire restaurant, didn’t you?” Realisation hit me. His actions always took my breath away. 
“I wanted to apologise for my outburst earlier. The way I treated you in front of my personal trainer was wrong of me.” 
“You should have brought him instead. He was the one you shouted at.” Truthfully, his outburst had me more concerned than offended. 
“I don’t think of you as a possession. If you thought…”
“Alex, I know.” Touching the side of his face, I tried to make him understand. “You didn’t have to do all of this to prove it to me.” I waved my arms around at his grand gesture. 
“It’s just…I’ve been so stressed these last few weeks. I don’t want to mess this up. You mean too much to me. You know that, right?” 
“You need to stop worrying about that. I’m not going anywhere. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you paid me to leave. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.” I nudged him playfully with my shoulder so he knew I was teasing.

Excerpt from Beyond the Sea

​On Monday after school, I walked through the gates with Aoife as we chatted about her latest art project. I was aware of Sally, Claire and their group just a few yards behind us. I was always aware when they were close. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end, like I’d developed some survival instinct to warn me of predators.
I heard Sally’s cackle of laughter and turned my head ever so slightly to see the cruel gleam in her eyes. She’d clearly just made some joke at my expense. I frowned and gritted my teeth, anger bubbling up inside me. Then the loud roar of an engine cut through my thoughts. A motorbike pulled up outside the school, and it took a second for my brain to compute that it was Noah. He pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.
“Oh my God,” I whispered under my breath, and Aoife shot me a funny look.
“What’s wrong?” She followed my gaze then blinked several times when she saw who had drawn my attention.
“Is that—”
“Yes.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“I have no idea,” I answered. I also had no intention of finding out. I hadn’t laid eyes on Noah since he may or may not have caught me snooping in his bedroom on Saturday. In fact, I’d gone out of my way to avoid him at all costs.
I ducked my head and attempted to hide behind Aoife as we passed him, but then he called my name. “Estella!”
I winced, and Aoife gaped at me, wide-eyed. I gave a little wave in Noah’s direction and replied with a courteous, “Hello,” before quickening my step. He climbed off his bike and caught up with me. I stopped in my tracks and folded my arms when he blocked my way.
 “What do you want?”
He lifted an eyebrow at my petulant tone, eyes moving over my face and lingering on my mouth a moment. Instinctively, I bit my lip, feeling unnervingly exposed under his cool gaze. All of a sudden, I was hyperaware of him. I did my best to keep my composure when he stepped closer, his voice low when he asked, “That bully of yours around?”
My eyes widened as I chewed my lip. “Um …”
“You told him about Sally?” Aoife whispered, and I nodded. She raised an eyebrow. I didn’t blame her for being surprised. The way I’d spoken about Noah wouldn’t have led her to believe we’d been close enough to talk about such things. And we weren’t. I still wasn’t sure what possessed me to tell him. All I knew was he had a way of drawing personal details out of me.
Noah turned his attention to Aoife, a congenial smile in place. “Hello, Estella’s friend. I’m Noah.” He held his hand out to her, and she glanced at it briefly before shaking with him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Noah. I’m Aoife.”
“Aoife,” he repeated, sounding out the syllables “eef-ah” in a low, sexy voice. “What a pretty name. Say, you wouldn’t be interested in pointing out the bully, would you?”
Aoife shot me a questioning look, and I vehemently shook my head. She looked back to Noah. “Afraid I can’t. Sorry.”
“Who is that?” Claire asked from close by, and I saw Noah’s ears prick up at the question.
“I don’t know, but he’s fucking hot,” one of her friends answered. Now he smirked. Ugh.
“What’s he doing talking to her?” This voice I recognised instantly. It was Sally. Noah must’ve seen something in my expression because his face hardened as he looked over my head. I knew it the second his gaze zeroed in on her. “Ah, I see the little bitch now. Spitting image of her father. Come on. Take my hand. Let’s make her jealous.”
Wait? Noah knew Sally’s dad? I stared at him, dumbfounded, while Aoife gave a hoot of approval. “I think I like him.”
Noah shot her a grin. My heart raced, and I just knew Sally was behind me, standing by the school gates and watching this scene play out very, very closely.
“Go with him,” Aoife urged. “I want to see Sally and Claire’s faces when you two drive off on that motorbike. It’s going to be epic.”
Noah held my gaze, and there was something about his challenging stare and Aoife’s encouragement that made me bold. In that moment, all I wanted was to give Sally something to feel jealous about. For once, I wanted to feel like I’d won. And being picked up from school by a hot twenty-something-year-old guy on a motorbike would definitely do the trick.
Without thinking, I placed my hand in Noah’s. His palm was unexpectedly warm, his grin enigmatic.
“See you tomorrow!” Aoife called as he led me over to his bike.
Noah handed me the helmet, his green eyes piercing. “Is she watching?” he asked. I nodded, nervously taking the helmet from him. “Good. Now put this on and climb on behind me.”
I did as instructed, glancing in Sally’s direction one last time and seeing furious jealousy all over her face. Satisfaction filled my stomach. I didn’t like succumbing to revenge-like urges, but lately, more and more, I wanted my enemies to suffer.
“Hold onto me,” Noah said as the engine roared to life. I thought for a moment about how close our bodies were, but then the bike started to move, and I panicked, wrapping my arms tight around his torso for fear I might fall off. I’d never been on a motorbike before, and I was just slightly terrified.
We sailed away from the school and onto the main road leading out of town. I would’ve wondered where he was taking me, if I wasn’t so distracted by how close he was. His stomach felt hard, his back solid against my chest. Once we were on the open road, he increased his speed and my skirt flew up. I squealed in shock.
“Relax,” Noah said over the noise of the engine. “We’re almost there.”
Almost where? My socks went up to the knee, but the rest of my legs were completely exposed. Noah’s attention flicked down momentarily, and butterflies swarmed my stomach at the thought of his eyes on me. He focused back on the road, and I closed my eyes, feeling the breeze whipping past my face. For a brief, blissful second, adrenaline rushed through my system, and I was … strangely happy.

MEET AUTHOR L.H. COSWAY

​Greetings! ‘Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is L.H. Cosway and I hail from Dublin, Ireland, where I live with my husband and two tiny dictators of the canine variety. My favourite things in life include daydreaming about fictional characters, eating in fancy restaurants, looking at dresses online that I’ll never buy, having entire conversations with my dogs, listening to podcasts and of course, reading books. I happen to believe that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories.

Follow her on Amazon

Excerpt from Never Letting Go

His head drops back, and he lets out a guttural moan. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until now. I’m basically massaging his back; I felt the knots in his shoulders and went to work on them. 
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to basically feel you up,” I mumble out. 
“Cam, if that’s how you feel me up, please, for the love of God, keep doing it.” I get back to work on smoothing out the suntan lotion on his back, making sure it’s completely rubbed in. 
“I think that’s it,” I tell him as I sit back down on my towel. 
“My turn,” Easton says, and he does what I least expect. He comes and sits behind me; I move my hair to the side of my shoulder, so he won’t get lotion in it. Easton’s hands are so different from mine. His are hard and calloused, and they make goosebumps appear on my skin when he starts to rub the lotion into my skin. 
“What else have you been doing since you’ve been back in America?” I question, trying to keep things going. The hard part is all I feel is the sexual chemistry between us. 
“I worked with a buddy for the past few years doing security. I was tired of the harsh winters and long hours and decided to branch out. That’s why I’m here.” This time, it’s me taking in a sharp breath of air as his hands move to the sides, where my arms are lifted up by my knees. He grazes the sides of my breasts. 
“Easton,” I moan. 
“Fuck, Cam. The way you say my name.” 
“I know. I feel it between us, but Easton, I can’t jeopardize my job, and what if this is fleeting?” I question. 
“You’re right, though I doubt this is fleeting. I’ll back off some, but that doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to see more of you,” he grunts out. 
We manage to calm our raging hormones, even though I know, on my part, it’s hard to fight the attraction between us. 
​

Meet Author Tory Baker

Tory Baker is a devoted mother to her two children, who keep her busy with their abundance of energy and sports. She's a dog mom to her Weimaraner, Remi and her Beagle, Gunner. She lives in sunny Florida where she enjoys the sun, sand, and water anytime she can. Most of the time you can find her outside with a laptop on her lap, soaking up the rays while writing about Alpha men who love their women with everything they have to give and puts them first in everything they do with a guaranteed happily ever after.

Follow Tory on Amazon

Capo Macchiavello & Mariposa Flores
 A simple arrangement – you do for me, I do for you. Nothing owed, no expectations
Except for one: never leave
​Machiavellian
​

Excerpt from Dirty Prince
​
​“There’s my woman,” I murmur, bending down to kiss her. I meant for it be just a brief peck, but just a small taste of Margarita’s lips is never enough. The kiss deepens and she hums into my mouth as our tongues tease one another. When we break apart, we stay close for a minute and I just stare at her. 

“You’re such a caveman, Eddie. I don’t think anyone uses the term my woman anymore. It actually might have been forbidden when women began having careers, not babies.” 

“Can’t they have both?” I ask her, noting the sadness back in her face. 

​“In a perfect world,” she says the furrowed lines in her forehead deepening as her despair comes more to the surface. I don’t want that. So, I switch gears. 

“If it makes you feel better, I give you permission to call me your man too, Ree.” 

Slowly she smiles, her eyes lighting, the sadness banished—at least for a moment. 

“That’s awfully nice of you,” she laughs. 

“I thought so. Just remember, the next time we’re out, and some man tries to hit on you, just tell them you have a man.”

“You’re crazy,” she admonishes, quietly. 

“Over you, definitely,” I reply, kissing her again before moving away. 

“Come back here and love on me,” she whines. 

“I need a shower, Princess. Running is hard work,” I joke.

“I like you all sweaty and smelly,” she pouts.

“That’s because you’re usually the one to get me that way.”
​

MORE ABOUT DIRTY PRINCE 
​
​He’s sexy.
He’s filthy and he has bad idea written all over him.

As a princess, Margarita has always enjoyed the title and the privileges it gave.
That is until her father expects her to marry a prince of a small neighboring country.
A prince she has never met, nor has the inclination to meet.
In the twenty-first century, arranged marriages should be banned. Right?
Margarita’s father doesn’t agree.

She knows that when her father makes a decree, he’s more King than dad.
Which means she’s doomed.
So, Margarita makes one final plea.

She wants a vacation, to enjoy her last couple of weeks as a single woman.
Then, she will dutifully accept her fate, and marry Prince Archibald—which implies he’s definitely more frog than prince.

Surprisingly, her dad says yes.

Margarita is going to try and leave the single life behind with no regrets.
To hell with being a good girl.

Cue Eddie Andrews.

He’s got heartache written all over him.
He’s a definite love em’ and leave em’ kind of guy.
Which is fine. Because when this two-week vacation is over,
It will be Margarita who will be walking away.

At least that’s the plan.
​

Excerpt from Prince of Hearts

“You look good on my bike,” I said.
And that I fucking meant.
“Thanks for the ride.” 
I tucked the helmet into my chest and gave her a small nod. “You should go inside.” My eyes flicked beyond her to the door.
“I think I’ll have to go around front.”
“Your key operates both doors.”
“Oh, okay.” Lina rocked on her kitten heeled boots. I couldn’t resist letting my eyes sweep down her body again. She was everything I could never have. 
Everything I’d never wanted.
Until now. 
I swallowed, lifting my gaze to hers. “Go on.” 
“Goodnight, Nicco.” Lina smiled.
“Goodnight.”
She didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t leave me even for a second. Slowly, she walked over to me and slid her hand against my face. “Thank you, for coming to my rescue again.” There was a playful lilt in her voice. 
“Anytime, Bambolina.” I smirked but it was wiped away when Lina leaned in, her lips brushing my cheek. She hesitated just for a second, but it was enough for me to turn my head and let my lips slide against hers.
Rookie. Fucking. Mistake.
The moment I tasted her, everything shifted. All I could think about now was pulling her down on my bike and devouring her. She tasted too good. Too tempting.
She tasted like my fucking downfall.
“Nicco.” My name was a whisper against my lips as I ran my tongue against the seam of her mouth. My hand slid into Lina’s hair, anchoring her to me as I kissed her deeper, harder. Her body shuddered, a soft sigh getting lost between us. I wanted to paint her skin with my lips, brand every inch of her. This wasn’t even a real kiss. It was fleeting and cautious. But I already knew I wanted more.
I wanted everything this girl—this stranger—had to give.
“What are you doing?” she whispered when I paused, my lips hovering over the corner of her mouth. “Nicco, what are—”
I jerked back as if I’d been struck by lightning. “You should go, Lina. I’ll wait until you’re inside.”
“I see.” Her lips thinned as she stepped back, putting a thousand miles between us, the invisible tether between us almost snapping. “Well, I guess I’ll be going then.” She didn’t hesitate this time. Lina walked away from me with her head held high, without so much as a backward glance.
It was no less than I deserved, but it hurt all the same.
I wanted her. 
I wanted Lina the way I’d never wanted another girl before. But I couldn’t be that guy. I couldn’t give her hearts and flowers and romance. 
I couldn’t be the prince she deserved, because my life wasn’t a fairytale.
It was the stuff nightmares were made of.

MORE ABOUT PRINCE OF HEARTS
​
Arianne Capizola is her father’s daughter.

Humble. Hardworking. Honest.

She’d rather spend her days helping at the local shelter than brushing shoulders with her vain and entitled classmates.

Niccolò Marchetti is his father’s son.

Dark. Dangerous. Deceitful.

He’d rather spend his days getting bloody in the ring than attending class and keeping up pretences.

When their paths cross at Montague University neither of them are willing to drop the walls they’ve spent so long building. But he can’t resist the girl with stars in her eyes, and she can’t forget the guy who saved her that night.

There’s only one catch.

Nicco isn’t Arianne’s knight-in-shining-armor, he’s the son of her father’s greatest enemy.

He is the enemy.

And their families are at war.
​

Katy Regnery has released her latet modern day fairytale, At First Sight, inspired by Aladdin.
What?! Aladdin swears AND has a boner! Now his name is Ian.
Imagine Jasmine... named Valentina.

Excerpt from At First Sight

I don’t have any lines until scene four, so I scan the audience, my eyes landing on familiar faces: Mary Murphy, mother of pizza-faced Jack, sits in the middle of the third row like she’s the bloody queen of Éire. Behind her is Horatio Doyle, an up-and-comer in Murphy-Doyle, with a few of his lads flanking him. Two rows behind them, I can make out the dark, beady eyes of my cousin, Jarlath Keegan.
It was Jarlath what first got me and my little brother running with the Keegans, promising us hot dinners while me mam was high as a kite. She was chewed up and spit out by my twelfth birthday, and Jarlath—ten years older than me—ended up taking in me and nine-year-old Albie. He used to beat us on the regular too, but over the last three years, I got bigger and started fighting back. I know he still gets a punch in on Albie from time-to-time, but not if I’m around. He don’t dare hit the kid in front of me. I’m a mean, whatever-it-takes, street-rat style fighter, just like he taught me to be. And what I lack in muscle-tone I make up for in grit. I don’t stop hitting until my enemy is down.
We lock eyes for a second, my cousin and me, with him putting a tattooed arm around my brother’s scrawny shoulders just to rattle me. Albie don’t notice. He’s focused on the action up on stage. I narrow my eyes, warning to my cousin to leave Albie the fuck alone, and he smirks at me with a lazy wink on his ugly gob. I fucking hate him, I do.
Skimming my eyes away, I look for…for…
Her.
Fuck me.
Her.
I barely notice that my fingers are curling into fists, but they are, and while they’re at it, my heart speeds up, galloping like a pony at the track. The muscles in my chest flex and harden as I breathe deep and hold it.
Ka-dum. Ka-dum. Ka-dum. Ka-dum. 
I step away from the cardboard tree, straightening up a little and focusing my eyes on the white-blonde of her hair—on the way the stream of a spotlight from the back of the theater tosses a halo over her head. 
A halo.
Like she’s a fucking angel. Like she’s legendary. Like she’s not even real.
Princess.
There’s no mistaking who she is or what she is—it’s clear in the way she holds herself, sitting in a rickety velvet seat that’s seen better days: back straight, neck long, little chin tilted up, and wide, dark eyes fixed on the stage. 
Princess.
My head tilts to the left and my face falls slack as I stare at her, eyes like fucking lasers, riveted on her beautiful face.
I’m sure her skin is a regular pinkish color up close, but from here, with that glaring spotlight and from a bit of a distance, she’s almost otherworldly. Her crisp white shirt is open at the neck and a string of pearls hug the base of her throat. Her light hair falls behind her shoulders in white waves, and tiny white sparkles in her ear lobes draw my eyes. I imagine the softness of that skin against my lips, compressed between my teeth. My filthy mouth waters as I slide my gaze to hers.
Full and soft, her lips are high-tone glossy in the light that streams over her head. A mental image of them wrapped around my cock makes my balls tighten. 
Make no mistake: I ain’t lonely. I get it on the regular when I want it, and mostly with who I choose, but suddenly I feel like a green kid who’s never fucked.
That’s about when I realize I’m wearing tight jeans.
On a stage.
In front of the whole of Limerick.
I tear my eyes away from her and stare down, expecting to see my cock rising like the River Shannon in high tide.
Sheep. Tea. Rugby. Cricket. Limey bastards. The Queen of bloody England with her thousand-year-old cunt.
I purse my lips together and breathe slowly through my nose, thinking of everything I hate, trying to get that beautiful fucking image out of my head before I’m sporting an on-stage boner. And thank the good Lord above for small mercies, but I feel my blood recede before the audience notices my struggle, except…
Except when I glance up again, she’s looking at me. Right at me.
Her.
Princess.
Seemingly aware of my struggle, and definitely amused, she fights not to smile as she lowers her gaze to my cock for a long second, then skims it back up my body to nab my eyes again.
Brazen as fuck she is!
Locked with hers, I feel my own eyes widen with disapproval as hers sparkle with laughter.