Sunday, May 17, 2015

Sunday's Safe Word Shelf: Nowhere Ranch by Heidi Cullinan

Love will grow through the cracks you leave open.

Ranch hand Roe Davis absolutely never mixes business with pleasure—until he runs into his boss, Travis Loving, at the only gay bar within two hundred miles.

Getting involved with the ranch owner is a bad idea, but Roe’s and Travis’s bedroom kinks line up against one another like a pair of custom-cut rails. As long as they’re both clear this is sex on the side, no relationship, no interfering with the job, they could make it work.

Shut out by his family years ago, Roe survived by steadfastly refusing to settle into so much as a post office box. As his affair with Travis grows into more than just sex, Roe’s past catches up with him, threatening the thin ray of happiness he’s found, reminding him it’s well past time he went on his way.

But even a loner gets lonely, and at this point, there’s nowhere left to run. The shame and sorrow of what he’s lost will stay with Roe wherever he goes—until he’s ready to let love lead him home.

Chapter One
My name is Monroe Davis, and this is the story of how I found home.

Once, home was Algona, Iowa. Growing up, everybody couldn’t wait to leave it, but I could have stayed forever. I still miss it sometimes. I miss the way the trees are thick and leafy, and the way the fields of corn and soybeans ripple in the wind as you drive through the countryside. I miss the way the earth bakes in August, moist and rich and full of life. I miss going to potlucks in the church basement, miss the annual Fourth of July parade full of people I’ve known since birth. But there came a point where I had to leave, because it wasn’t home, not anymore.

It started when my mom found my porn. She was cleaning my room, and for whatever reason she decided to clean out my bedside drawer too, all the way to the bottom, and she stumbled onto my stash. She gave it to my dad, who came straight out to me in the field. When I saw him coming, I turned off the tractor and ran to meet him because I thought something had happened, that someone had been hurt.

But he didn’t say anything. He just held up those magazines and DVDs and looked at me, waiting for me to explain. Except it was exactly what he’d already figured out, so I lowered my head and stared at the alfalfa under my boots as my breathing got funny. The blood rushed around in my head, and sweat ran down my neck.

After a long, painful silence, Dad turned around and headed to the house.

I got on the tractor and finished raking the hay because I didn’t know what else to do.

They sent the pastor of our church to talk to me. He told me about hell and how my lifestyle would send me there. He explained how my choices were an abomination to God and an insult to the good name of my family. My dad wouldn’t look me in the eye, and my mom cried all the time. My brother, Bill, acted like I’d punched him in the gut.

You would have thought I’d murdered somebody’s baby. I guess to them, I did. Except I was the same Roe they’d always known. They just hadn’t known about the part I’d kept quiet.

Bill was the first to finally talk to me. He said after praying, and with Pastor’s help, the family came to a decision. It would be okay if I stayed, but I needed to get counseling from Pastor Tim. Bill also told me about some nice girls I should think about dating. He hinted he knew a few who would be okay for just sex, though I couldn’t tell Mom about that. But I had to do the counseling, and there could be no more gay porn and no more gay, period. It was either this or leave the farm.

Well, I left.

I didn’t leave town, though, and mostly I ran around getting into trouble. It took me little more than half a year to end up in prison because of a really bad bar fight. This was after lots of times in lockup and a half a dozen random charges, all about drinking and fighting. They gave me three years, which turned into one, and then they let me out at eight months because of overcrowding. I wore my ankle bracelet, kept my head down and was good to my probation officer.

When they turned me loose for good, I got out of Algona.

I was tired of it. Tired of letting other people make me feel like shit. Tired of people treating me as if I had the plague. Tired of alternating between blaming everybody else for my problems and thinking if I acted guilty enough they might forgive me.

I got tired of waiting for home to come to me. So I made damn sure I never needed home again.

As you can imagine, life eventually got the better of me.

I met Travis Loving when I went to work at Nowhere Ranch. I’d been shuffling around ranches throughout the Midwest, doing time in Kansas and the Dakotas. Nowhere, in northwestern Nebraska, was the farthest west I’d yet gone. I will admit I answered the ad because of the name. Also because if I went through one more fucking North Dakota winter, I was going to hang myself. I’d heard it wasn’t quite as bad in Nebraska. So after a few good days of partying in Omaha, I contacted the ranch manager, who said he’d give me a try, and off I went.

The other thing I liked about Nowhere Ranch was it was a hobby ranch, almost as small as a larger farm. I know everybody’s all about the sexy Southern cowboys and big ranches and tumbleweeds blowing by you, but I grew up on a farm, and it’s what I know. Ranches usually feel too big. It’s the wrong culture or something.

Nowhere Ranch was smaller, and it was way out in the boondocks—hence, the name. Apparently when Loving bought it, he kept talking about how he was moving out to the middle of nowhere, and the name stuck. It was a good, solid operation, especially considering the owner was still pretty green. The feed was all organic, and he had about as many sheep as he did cattle. We only had sheep a short while at Dad’s farm, but I knew enough about them to understand what I was getting into.

None of the other hands lived on site, which worried me at first. But the manager said it really was a small operation, and they rotated through a set of local guys when they needed them. He also said if I wasn’t fussy, there was an apartment above the stable I was welcome to. It wouldn’t cost me anything if I was willing to be on standby to do work off the clock, like help round up steers that got out. So it would only be me and the owner at the ranch, with the manager and his family down the road.

As soon as I heard about having my own apartment, not a bunk with other guys, I was ready to do about anything to get there. I was careful about anybody finding out I was queer, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling something I didn’t expect would trip me up. I was pretty sure handling sheep and calves wasn’t going to give me away, but in my own place I could jerk off without watching to make sure nobody noticed there was nothing but dick in the mags and vids I had.

Except the apartment was a real fucking dive. It was about twelve by twelve, and I think the carpet had been there since 1972 without once making the acquaintance of a vacuum. It was furnished, with a bed and a table and a recliner and a nightstand, but I took one look at the bedding and headed to Walmart to replace it. While I was there I picked up a bottle of bleach too. But I was still overall pleased with the place. After a little cleaning and replacement parts, it was a palace to me.

The only problem was there really wasn’t a kitchen to speak of, just a dorm-sized fridge and a hot plate. I’m not any kind of fancy chef, but eating out all the time is expensive, and I get tired of sandwiches. It was enough of a hitch in my get-along that I thought about asking for a proper stove, but in the end I decided I could limp along to start. I’d lobby for a moderate kitchen upgrade once I had a better lay of the land. If I even stayed long enough to bother with it.

The first two weeks I only saw Loving in passing, usually in the mornings as he stood with the manager, Tory Parrish, at the fence rail. Tory would nod while Loving spoke quietly, his tan cowboy hat bobbing as he turned this way and that, gesturing to fields and barns and equipment. Occasionally I also saw Loving head out on his horse a couple hours after the last of the hands had gone home and he’d had his evening meeting with Tory. Sometimes I would watch him ride out, because it was a nice vista, man on horse, silhouetted against the sunset.

Loving was tall and broad, a few inches shorter than my six-two. Handsome in a way I appreciated, but he was significantly older than me. By this time I was almost twenty-five, and Loving had to be pushing forty. He seemed more like my dad than somebody to ogle. Also, he’s the boss. I knew he used to be a professor in Omaha and he was divorced with no kids, and I knew he’d only owned this ranch for about three years. Mostly I didn’t pay him much attention outside of noting when he was around so I could work harder at not being a dick. Because I did like the job, and outside of the mediocre kitchen, I enjoyed the apartment.

One Saturday night there was a knock on my door, and when I opened it, by God if it wasn’t Loving standing there. He gave me a curt nod as a greeting. “We got trouble on the north ridge. Can I get you to lend a hand?”

I said sure. After hustling into my boots, I grabbed my hat and followed him down the stairs.

Tory was already on a four-wheeler, rifle stowed in the back. Loving had his own ride waiting beside Tory’s, but I noticed there wasn’t a third, so I climbed on behind Tory and held on to the rack as we rode.

When I saw the ewe bobbing around in the field, bumping into the other sheep and acting like she was drunk, I knew what we were in for.

“It looks neurological.” Loving sounded uncertain though, and Tory shrugged.

“It’s neurological all right,” I said. “That ewe has rabies.”

They both turned to me, surprised. “How can you tell?” Tory asked.

I motioned to the ewe. “She’s acting all crazed. It’s eating her brain right now. We’ve got to put her down and get her the hell out of here. Need to isolate the rest of this herd right quick. Groups as small as you can get. You don’t know how many she’s bit.”

“I’ll call the vet.” Loving reached for his phone.

I shook my head. “Ain’t no point.”

“But there’s a treatment,” Loving pressed. “They give it to people.”

“Yeah. And it’s several thousand dollars a pop. This is thirty head of sheep. You’d do better to slaughter them and get new.” I gestured to the huddled herd. “Partition them off as best you can and wait it out, is my advice. Either they been infected or not. All you can do is wait and see.” I tugged on the brim of my hat. “What you do need to do is call all the hands and make sure none of them’s been bit. You only got so many hours between exposure and death.”

Loving reached for his phone again, but Tory already had his out and waved him off.

“I’ll call the boys. You two get her put down and figure out how the fuck we’re going to isolate them.”

Loving grabbed the rifle, nodding at me as he loaded the cartridges. “You’re sure about this?”

Hell yes, I was sure. “They get it from skunks, see. Anyway, it’s the sort of thing you don’t mess around with. She could infect half the herd tonight. Better to kill her and find out I’m wrong than wait and lose them all. The only positive test is to examine her brain. Which kind of requires her to be dead.”

Loving grimaced and nudged his hat higher on his head with his knuckle. “And here I thought foot rot was hell.”

“Oh, everything about sheep is hell. We never cussed more than the years we raised them.”

Loving sighed and raised the rifle, only to lower it again. “Would you mind trying to separate her a little? But don’t expose yourself.”

Heading for the main body of the herd, I clapped my hands and called, “Hee-yah,” until they started to bleat and stumble over each other trying to get away. The rabid ewe followed them for a second before she fell. She got up pretty quickly, and when she did, she came for me.

Sheep don’t exactly set land-speed records, but I hustled out of the way because I wasn’t interested in catching any stray gunshot. Turns out I needn’t have worried, as Loving could shoot a single hair off your head at half a mile. He put the bullet right between her eyes, and she went down like a ton of bricks.

Tory tucked his phone back into his pocket. “I got hold of everybody. All the boys are coming in to help sort them out. I thought probably in the stalls in the horse barn. Chaucer and the boys won’t hurt to be out in the pasture a few days, and we can whip up temporary pens in the south field.”

That’s what we did. We ended up only losing two more sheep total, which was good. But I didn’t talk to Loving for the rest of the week. On Friday, he took off. Tory said he’d be gone through the weekend.

I thought maybe this would be a good time to get away myself. I was starting to get itchy. I headed into town to the public library, where an online search for nearby gay bars informed me I would be going three hours north to Rapid City to get laid. I know they have them fancy apps on smartphones to hook up, but I can’t abide putting that kind of money down for a piece of plastic.

I worried Tory would say I couldn’t leave the ranch unattended, but he said not to bother about it, as he always kept an eye out when Loving was gone. He said I was to go on and have a nice time.

The drive was okay. Mostly I didn’t notice anything around me, too busy thinking about how I could spend the next forty-eight hours fucking and getting fucked. I checked into my hotel, showered, and fussed with my clothes before heading over at nine.

The bar was small and sad, nothing like the flashy stuff I’d gotten used to in Omaha and Kansas City. In North Dakota I had gone to Fargo, which hadn’t been bad. This place was a different story. There was hardly anybody there, and most of them had already hooked up. But I saw one lone cowboy sitting at the bar, and I bee-lined to him, determined to spread my legs even if he looked like Ethel Merman.

You probably saw this coming, but I have to tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather when the cowboy turned around and he was Travis Loving.

Author Bio:
Heidi Cullinan has always loved a good love story, provided it has a happy ending. She enjoys writing across many genres but loves above all to write happy, romantic endings for LGBT characters because there just aren't enough of those stories out there. When Heidi isn't writing, she enjoys cooking, reading, knitting, listening to music, and watching television with her family. Heidi also volunteers frequently for her state's LGBT rights group, One Iowa, and is proud to be from the first midwestern state to legalize same-sex marriage.



Sky High by CJ Lake

Title: Sky High
Author: CJ Lake
Series: The Attraction #3
Genre: New Adult Romance
Release Date: May 1, 2015
**All books in C.J. Lake’s Attraction Series are standalone novels with NO cliffhangers.**

First she stole my parking spot.  Then we became friends.  Then I fell completely, mind-torturingly in love with her.  Oh, wait—I think that happened first.

     “Why are you so pissed?”
     Jamie spared her a cold glance over his shoulder.  For a fleeting moment, she thought he might deny his anger or talk around it, but instead he muttered, “You know why.”
     Sucking in a breath, Sky hesitated.  For a long moment, she watched him picking up weights and stacking them (loudly), feeling like she had a wad of cotton in her throat.  She wasn’t sure what to say or how to play this; she only knew that she needed Jamie to be her friend again—and so much more than that—and she wasn’t going to insult his intelligence by playing dumb.
     “Look, I didn’t even want to go on that date,” she told him, still talking to his back.  “It was a last-minute favor to Alison—she begged me!”  Wordlessly, Jamie stacked two more weights, then scooped up a dumbbell.
      Frustrated, Sky said, “Look, she begged me as a personal favor to go out with him.”
     With his back still to her, he said, “Yeah, did she beg you to bring the guy back home with you, too?”
     Sky winced at that.  “The date didn’t mean anything, Jamie.”
     God, he was being difficult.  Was he going to make her say it first?  Didn’t he know how scary that was?
     Suddenly he whipped his head around, as if a thought had just occurred to him.  “Wait—is he downstairs right now?  Waiting for you?”
     “No!” Sky nearly yelped.  “No, he’s not there.  He left.”
     “Ah,” Jamie said with a nod.  “So that’s why you’re here.  Let me guess: you want my opinion now.”
     “No,” Sky began, shaking her head, “that’s not—”
     “Well,” Jamie declared, “my opinion is that this is bullshit.”
     Stunned, Sky just blinked at him for a second.  “Exactly which part?” she asked, confused.
     “This whole thing with you and me,” he stated bluntly.  “And I’m done with it.”
     For a terrifying second, Sky panicked.  How was he “done” with it?  With her?  “What does that mean?” she said, trying to keep her voice from betraying what a hot mess of emotions she was right now.
     Jamie started walking toward her, his eyes burning with anger.  “It means: I don’t want to be your friend and I don’t want to hear about these guys anymore.”
     “That’s what I’m trying to—”
     “What do you even need my input for anyway?” Jamie continued brusquely, and Sky’s breath hitched in her throat.  She’d never seen him this angry (and was it wrong that it was turning her on?)  “You’re a grown woman,” he practically barked at her, stopping his processional about five feet away from her.  “You go be with whoever you want to be with.”
     Nodding, Sky felt her adrenaline rise.  “Fine, I will.  In fact, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she promised, walking closer to him.  If he was missing her meaning, he certainly wouldn’t be missing it for long...

What makes Jamie and Sky such a great couple?
When the story begins, Sky is in a tough transition, finally coming to terms with the fact that her ski career is over after it had only just begun—and that she has to figure out what’s next.  She has become somewhat negative and cynical, but when Jamie comes along with his easygoing, funny personality, he inevitably brings a positive energy to Sky’s life.

If you had to choose, what is your favorite scene?
Sky and Jamie have a confrontation about their whole “friendship” and what’s really been happening below the surface.  It’s a pretty intense, sexy scene and I love that whole moment between them!

Do you have a music playlist for this book?
Yes!  My #1 Jamie-Sky inspiration song is “Afterlife” by Ingrid Michaelson—but there are so many fun, romantic songs that remind me of their love!  Like: “Want to Want Me” (Jason Derulo), “Sugar” (Maroon 5), “Boom Clap” (Charli XCX), “Riptide” (Vance Joy), “Classic” (MKTO), “Love Me Like You Do” (Ellie Goulding), and “Unconditional” (Katy Perry).

What are your must-haves while writing?
I’d like to say good lighting and espresso—but truthfully, I’ll write even when I’m out of espresso.  Still…good lighting is a must and I will pretty happily settle for regular coffee.

What else should readers know?
Sky High is the third book in The Attraction Series.  Like the other books in the series, Sky High is a standalone novel—although characters from Constructing Us (Book 1) and A Hot Winter (Book 2) also appear, so readers can see how they’re doing!  I had a lot of fun with this book, because Jamie is one-of-a-kind and I hope I captured that.

What’s next?
Coming up are Parts 2 & 3 of The Allnighter (My New Stepbrother).  I recently released Part 1, which you can check out here:  Mick and Cady would be perfect together…if only the timing and circumstances weren’t so imperfect!  The rest of their sexy and at times funny love story is coming soon…

Also, Let it Burn (Book 4 in the Attraction Series), is coming in 2016!

Author Bio:
C.J. Lake is a storyteller who is passionate about art, surfing, and skiing/snowboarding. Residing near the coast of Massachusetts, C.J. is currently working on a new book.


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Fear II by Amarie Avant

Title: Fear II
Author: Amarie Avant 
Series: Falling in Love with An Alpha Billionaire #2
Release Date: April 24, 2015
Genre: Adult, Romance, Suspense
Luxury’s only desire is to love Victor, a man that cannot love her. In the beginning, she feared him. Mysterious and dark, Victor’s cerulean eyes hypnotize Luxury’s mind and command the drumming of her heart. Now the Duke of Arlington owns her. Victor will keep Lux to the dismay of Her Majesty, The Queen.

As the palace echos with footsteps, the English dare to whisper the horrid truths.

Suspense crescendos along with the intoxication of sex.

The beast has made it clear who she belongs to and how much of him he will allow: Money. Sex. Nothing more.

The stakes are high. Now fear… love.

     Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? Relentless, borderline maddening? Each night my dreams are plagued with Victor D’Ross. It’s as if my subconscious still craves my status.
     My vow.
     My ownership.
     My persistent nightmare consists of every aspect of the past. Day 20 in our relationship…
     He’s intimidating, even at six feet. His height once scared the heck out of me, since I’m an inch shy of five feet. Thick, dark wavy hair and baby blues were a hypnotic decree that made the muscular and golden tanned man even more frightening. Yes, I once feared the handsome Victor.
     At first, I denied Victor’s request to own me. That sexy British accent tempted me to concede. I took pride in being "my own" woman. But a man like Victor isn’t familiar with the word ‘no’.
     To dominate my body, Victor did the opposite.
     He knelt before me.
     That show of submission made my legs part. Though I was livid from having to explain my rights to a man that only saw things one way–his way– my body began to cream for him. As if mere seconds away from his goal, Victor pushed up my dress even more. His hands grabbed my thong. As the silk tore, my honey poured. His commanding mouth took to my nether regions, advising me that Victor’s kneeling, hadn’t given me any control.
     I was speechless when he came back up to kiss me. The fragrance of my climax was all over his lips. He set a spell that beckoned me toward his way of thinking. Before I had a chance to respond, he went back down. Adding depth to his rhythm, Victor’s lips softly kissed my clit. The tiny, tender bulb became his sole focus–all in a desire to obtain my full and utter submission.
     Again, he came back up. Victor allowed me one more taste of my sugar as his tongue twirled around mine. The residue was a concoction of honey and delirium. His hands seized my cheeks in a rather rough manner. Those beautiful blue eyes were a cerulean storm as he glared at me, “Lux, now who do you belong to?”
     “Victor, please,” I began. My resolve crashed down.
     Ignoring my last bit of self-control, Victor continued to feast off my delicate parts. He broke me down, bit by bit. If it didn’t seem like I would have to be “his” for a lifetime, I would have shouted it from the rooftops. But Victor . . . His hard stance read that this offering would end at my very last earthly breath. I begged him to fuck me for an eternity. He was determined to ignore me for even longer.
     My fingers went into his thick, jet-black hair. “Victor, wait… you own me.”
     At that, he sucked and licked harder, making my body spasm. An orgasm blossomed out of my half-spent lips. Then Victor’s teeth grazed my inner thigh. He bit down into the toned flesh. I gasped at the pain, a warning for not professing his ownership in the first place.
     “Again,” he said, coming up as his, eyes pulled mine into a trance.
     “Victor you own every inch of my body,” I sighed. Damn. He. Got. Me.
     “You throw me away!” I gasped at how stupid I had become.
     “Until you die.” After the decree absorbed into my bloodstream, Victor’s eyes disconnected from mine. He stood up, towering over me. Victor picked me up with a placated smile. “Now, for your insolence…”
     He carried me to the bedroom as if I were precious, yet I knew I’d pay for not saying yes to him from the start. After silently placing me down, he climbed on top of me and unbuttoned his linen shirt.
     Victor’s lips crashed down on mine. His kisses bruised my thick lips as if the simple act gave him even more power over my body than he already possessed. He had me from day one, so how could he own me even more? Every time we had sex, the bar increased. It was like sex for the first time…each…and…every…time. In a maddening state of ecstasy, I nibbled on his bottom lip before letting my tongue sail against his. Sensing my desire to gain some control, Victor’s large, callused hands grabbed onto my ass. He squeezed at my thick, caramel butt. It instinctively warned me against trying my luck or trying to parallel this control ever again.
     There would only be one reign . . . Victor’s.
     The man acted as if he were British royalty for Christ’s Sake.
     My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. He could never be close enough. My body was heavy and wet with need. I moaned into his mouth as his hands reached to the top of my dress and seized a caramel melon. The warm, roughness of his tongue made a purr escape my full, pink lips. He reached up, pulled my dress off and unsnapped my bra.
     Victor’s mouth was satin over my erect nipples. His teeth began to drag across my breast. As his teeth pulled up to my nipple again, he slowly took away the added pressure. I lost my mind. Literally.      This feeling took me into the realm of ecstasy.
     “Stop closing your eyes,” Victor commanded.
     The command was impossible, because I kept glimpsing heaven. The way he attended to my body made my eyes close and my mouth curve into a delicious smile. Though I rather tried, my body was transported to paradise each time Victor bit, sucked, and surveyed my entire body.
     “Look at me,” Victor ordered. His mouth again took mine hostage. The danger of staring at his hypnotic eyes took me to new heights as his tongue twirled with mine. As I said, we were only 20 days strong. I hadn’t yet known that the psycho was an assassin. But, damn it, I lost myself that day.

Fear: Falling in Love with An Alpha Billionaire 
22 year old Luxury Whitson is a romantic at heart. Yet this florist only grasp at love is listening to a customer's sentimental story while he purchases a beautiful bouquet of roses for a significant other. When Lux crosses paths with Victor, his presence commands her attention. From a tailor-made suit that drapes over 6 feet of muscles to aqua blue eyes that hold her siege, Lux falls fast. Victor exudes sex, and a plethora of other emotions. The most intense one being... fear.

Victor has a strict policy: work now, play later. With a sharp and twisted mind for murder, this billionaire doubles as a hitman. Victor always takes assassinations seriously until meeting Luxury, the daughter of his next mark. Now he has a new challenge. Tame Luxury and keep the Whitsons' alive....

Tell us about yourself.
Though I’m ironically afraid of scary movies, my books veer toward the darker side of romance and love. ‘Happily Ever After’ has always been a hard pill to swallow  since my day-to-day clients deal with depression all the way to suicidal tendencies. I write to separate myself from reality and I enjoy creating character’s who are fully developed.

My favorite pastime besides writing a good story is being nosy. To me, ‘the life’ is just sitting back and watching. Then of course, I must know what moves their actions. I’m all about the “why’s” of life, having a B.A. in psychology (and Child Development), and a Masters in Counseling. Oh, and just a bit more about me, I love coupon shopping at high-end department stores, TV shows, and movies. And I’m dyslexic.

What has been your greatest reward in writing this book?
 Simple. Learning about me. There’s nothing better than learning that I can finish something I’ve started. Writing a book is time consuming and knowing when to “chuck it out in to the world” for others to enjoy is just as hard.

What inspired your series, Fear: Falling in Love with an Alpha Billionaire?
Well, I thought it would be just one book, but here I go falling in love with the characters. It may be the dyslexia in me but I’ve learned to live with complex creativity.

Tell us about your main character.
I have two main characters. My alpha male, Victor D’Ross, Duke of Arlington. Six foot even, hypnotic, icy blue eyes and a British accent to boot. Victor is rigid in his ways. He is royalty so of course he has an aura about him that commands attention. But you must read the story to learn more about Victor because he first presents as very aloof.

My doll, Luxury Whitson is a sweetheart. She’s 4 foot 11 and owns a florist shop in Brooklyn, NY. On the outside, she is easily persuaded having dealt with the heartbreak of losing her mother, her closest friend. When she meets Victor its life changing and so very dangerous.

What are you currently working on?
I’m working on Fear III the finale. This series will have elevated across the three books. The drama and tension have begun to climax, now it’s time for a thrilling ending. In addition, I’m attempting my first ‘straight’ romance, meaning I endeavor toward not being placed into the box of only being able to write romantic-suspense.

Now, please check out my books, I’ve put my all into everything from the stories to the book covers. Find me Amazon  Goodreads  Facebook  Twitter feel free to strike up a conversation. And for the love of all things holy, I strive off of knowing your thoughts of my work.

Author Bio:
Mother of two. Wife of one alpha. And alpha to his alpha.
Lover of thrills and enticingly sexy chills.

Azusa Pacific University alumni where God comes first. This dyslexic and highly attention deficit author has received two Bachelors and a Masters in Counseling. Though sociopaths are very interesting, and coupon shopping is just as thrilling as action or cartoon movies, Amarie Avant has taken on romance.

Beware anytime you open an Amarie Avant novel: This is not your ordinary love story…

Fear II

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