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  Sometimes you have to make your own happily ever after.

  Head Over Heels

  © 2008 Lena Matthews

  Working at the Glass Slipper is anything but a fairytale for Cyn Elder. After one especially long day, all she wants is to kick off her shoes and put her feet up, but she reluctantly lets her friends drag her out to a new club.

  Movie mogul and fledgling club owner Parker Maguire is bored with the Hollywood scene and its plastic women, and the club scene isn’t proving to be much better. Until he finds a sassy woman refusing to back down from his overzealous bouncer.

  Cyn is a breath of fresh air, neither impressed by celebrity status nor bowled over by his charisma and wealth. She’s honest, genuine—and arousing in more ways than he could have ever imagined. For once, Cyn puts herself before her shop and lets herself be swept off her feet by a man who pursues her with a delightful vengeance.

  Her father’s evil girlfriend and her two lazy daughters, however, see Cyn’s new happiness as nothing more than a threat to their own comfortable lives. Their plot to break the two lovers up could turn Parker and Cyn’s “once upon a time” into a “happily never after.”

  Unless Cyn’s Fairy Drag Queen can pull something out of her pink-chiffon sleeve…

  Warning: This title contains hot, dirty, workplace sex; hot, dirty, sauna sex; heck…just hot, dirty sex in general. As well as fairies of the non-magical variety, and dreams coming to life.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Head Over Heels:

  “Corner pocket,” Parker called, as he lined up his next shot. “Hmm, could it be you’re a hustler.”

  “Now, now, Parker, if I was trying to hustle you, I would have made a wager.”

  “It’s not too late.” He could think of several things he’d be willing to bet on. “I’m willing.”

  “So I see.”

  He froze on the down stroke and looked up into her twinkling eyes. If he had any doubts before that she wasn’t aware of his attraction to her, those were now laid to rest. He was certain she missed very little. “What do you mean?” he questioned as he took his shot, cursing to himself as he missed. She was getting to him.

  “I just meant you look like a betting man.” Taking the stick out of his hand, she nudged him with her hip and leaned over to take her shot. She looked up before she thrust her stick between her long brown fingers and cocked a brow, “What did you think I meant?”

  She executed her shot perfectly, winking at him as she stood. Fuck this, Parker thought, as he watched her bend over again. Her dress rose a bit in the back, flashing smooth, groin-tightening chocolate thighs at him, forcing a savage growl from his throat as he noticed he wasn’t the only one looking.

  A couple of guys at the next table were watching her intently, too intently for his peace of mind. He didn’t mind she was teasing him, but the thought of anyone else enjoying the view was enough to piss him off. Glaring at the men in question, he walked behind her, blocking her ass from their sight.

  “Aww,” one complained, earning a scowl from him as he twisted around to see who said it.

  “What did you say?” she asked when she stood once again.

  “Nothing,” he replied as he turned back to face her. “Did you make it?”

  “Weren’t you watching?”

  “No.”

  “Then yes.” The laughter in her voice told him another story.

  “Cheat.” He reached for the stick, brushing his hands against her. All the laughter froze as the touch forced them to make eye contact, real contact for the first time, and he really liked what he saw. He wasn’t the only one feeling the pull between them. He was just the only one not fighting it. “You know you worried me there for a moment.”

  “Moi?” she asked, pressing her hand flush to her chest. Once again his mind went back to the pool table, and her on top, arms spread wide gripping the pool stick as he feasted on her body. “How did I do that?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you were going to show tonight.”

  “And stand up the Prince? Never.” Her pretty brown face was relaxed in a smile. Never had he been turned on before by just simple foreplay. And that was what it was. They hadn’t touched, not really, but he was just as aroused as if they had.

  It was something about her—no—it was everything about her that was a turn on from her smooth, chocolate skin, to the sexy sway of her ass. He was intoxicated on her beauty and enraptured by her charm. “So does this mean I get your phone number this time?”

  “If you’re a good boy.”

  “Oh, baby, I promise you. I’m good.”

  “I bet.” Glancing down at his outfit, she looked him over in a way that made him feel it as if it were her fingers instead of just her gaze. “I like you in black.”

  He was willing to bet he’d like himself in black as well. “Thank you.”

  She looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes as she picked up her drink. “I have this theory.”

  “Do tell.”

  “All men look good in black. Black clothes, black cars…” she toyed with the straw in her glass, with a soft demure smile across her lips as she continued, “…black women.”

  Damn! He went from intrigued to aroused in two seconds flat. Leaning in closer so there was no chance she would miss his words, he teased back, “I’m a man of science you know, and I’m a big believer in theories. The ‘big bang’ is one of my personal favorites.”

  She coughed on her drink, bringing her hand quickly to her mouth to stifle the soda that was surely about to fly out. Sputtering, she reached behind her on the table and grabbed a napkin to wipe up her mess. “Boy…” she chuckled, in between coughs, “…you are too much.”

  “Just enough I’d say.” He could tell she was used to having the upper hand in relationships. She was in for a mighty fall if she thought he was going to roll over and play lap dog for her. “Are you a betting woman?”

  “Could be. Depends on the bet I guess.”

  “I win this game, you come home with me.”

  “Hollywood?” She quirked her eyebrow questioningly.

  “No, I have a townhouse here, as well.”

  “Okay, and if I win…” Her voice trailed away as she waited for his response.

  “We’ll go out for coffee instead,” he offered nonchalantly.

  She pondered the comment for a moment, before setting her drink back on the table. “Sounds like a great bet.”

  Bending, he took aim. It was a win-win situation as far as he saw it. Yes, he wanted to go to bed with her, but half an hour spent in her presence was a great consolation prize. As he pulled the stick back, she chimed in, “I want to change the bet a bit.”

  Damn, he knew things were too good to be true. “You want me to change my wager?”

  “No.” Walking around to where he was, Cyn ran her hands down his stick suggestively. “If you win, I go home with you. If I win, you go home with me.”

  Can a red-hot fling equal true blue love?

  True Blue Love

  © 2008 Melissa Lopez

  The Thorns, Book 3

  Something’s flying on Miller Thorn’s trip home to the Australian bush—and it’s not just the plane. The attractive American woman sitting next to him is striking sparks hotter than an Outback wildfire.

  Miller’s never claimed to be good at relationships—witness the straining ties that bind his own family—but this woman is just his type. The type that flat-out asks for a one-night stand. No strings, no names.

  Kaycee Hollenbeck’s ready to start a new life as a free woman, and what better launching pad than a gorgeous Australian’s bed? Anonymity suits her just fine, but a girl’s gotta know whose name to scream.

  One night turns into two, and suddenly fate seems to be conspiring to weaken their determination to keep it simple. Particularly when it turns out her new job is just down the road from the Thorn family station.

  Caught between a family that’s falling apart and a woman he doesn’t know how to let
go of, Miller struggles with trust issues when a secret from Kaycee’s past rears its ugly head.

  A secret that could threaten the future they had told themselves they never wanted in the first place…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for True Blue Love:

  How easy it’d be to get used to her sharing his life.

  Clearly, he was losing his mind to think about what was impossible. She was on holiday. And in the end the bloody world separated them. Besides, hard life lessons had taught him good things like Kaycee never panned out.

  Best to focus on what had brought them together. Sex. The hottest sex of his life. Her arse that had his full attention now.

  Her round arse peeked out from beneath the nightshirt she wore. Her cheeks couldn’t be contained in her panties.

  Eh, a fine arse. Curvy thighs and hips. And breasts that made him want to squeeze his prick between them until his load erupted. Her nearness kept him hard. Half the time he felt like an uncontrollable stud stallion. The rest of the time he felt as if he were a teen again.

  Bugger me.

  Good things like Kaycee didn’t happen to him. He’d had another excellent day with her. As much as she’d wanted to stay in, he’d forced her out to see a couple of attractions Alice had to offer. She’d liked the botanical gardens, but hadn’t been too thrilled at the reptile center.

  She was a wuss, though cute as bloody hell. Prissy too. He liked to watch her fuss with her hair. Straighten her clothes.

  Slowly, his gaze roamed up her delectable body to take in the exposed skin on her back. Her sculpted shoulders.

  What a bloody beauty she is.

  When she met his gaze in the mirror, she blew him a kiss.

  His chest caught in an ache he was beginning to get used to. This was one of those moments she made him feel young again.

  “Is the water getting cold?”

  “Not yet.”

  After she washed and dried her face, she joined him at the tub. She sat on the edge at his back. “Lean up for me so I can wash your back.”

  His semi-erect prick thickened, stiffening at the mere thought of her bathing him in such a way.

  Still, only hesitantly did he do as she bid. His back held scars from his childhood. Countless times his father had laid his back open. The old man had a temper. At least when it’d come to him. There’d been no pleasing the man. Christ knew he’d worked his arse off trying.

  Using a soapy rag, she lathered and scrubbed his shoulders before moving down his back.

  On a groan, his head dropped forward. She took the opportunity to clean the back of his neck. She was thorough in her attention. If he’d been standing, her continued touch would have brought him to his knees.

  How was she able to make him feel so weak? So bloody good? What about her made him want to bare his soul? He trembled with a vulnerability he’d never understand.

  She scrubbed, then rinsed twice from his neck to arse.

  At the feel of her lips on his back, he tensed and gripped the edge of the tub. His other hand fisted.

  Oh, fuck.

  “I’m sorry for the times you were hurt.” More passes of her lips lingered on his back. “I first noticed these scars while you talked on the phone to your brother.” More kisses trailed along his skin. “I won’t ask, but know I’m sorry.”

  He groaned.

  Oh, fuck.

  She pushed what little control he had. She now kissed the scars his father had put on his back. Too many times to count, his father had laid the metal end of a belt or a razor strap into him.

  “Hmm, stand up for me.”

  Shakily, he did as she ordered. His prick stood out straight begging for some attention. He put a hand on the wall he faced.

  Just as thoroughly as she had the rest of him, she washed his arse and the back of his thighs.

  At the feel of her tongue on his lower back, he braced his knees. His balls tightened with each caress of her mouth. Her lips didn’t stay in one place for long. Open-mouth kisses played across his arse cheeks. The intimate caresses kept his arse clenched.

  His prick pulsed in need.

  He wanted her to keep up the contact forever. But knew from the tightness in his balls he already hung on the edge.

  “Turn around.”

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