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Stripped Down by Emma Hart ~ Release Day Blitz

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00035]What do you get when you mix a bottle of tequila, a single mom moonlighting as a stripper, and her sinfully sexy boss with an impulsive side?

Married. You get married.

 

Rich. Demanding. Hot. Crazy.

That was Beckett Cruz in a nutshell.

Not to mention wild, determined, dangerous, and forbidden.

He was my boss—and, after a drunken moment of insanity, my new husband.

An annulment was impossible… so was keeping him.

I was taking my daughter and leaving, determined to give her a quieter life.

But Beckett Cruz had never taken no for an answer.

And he wasn’t about to take mine.

What happens in Vegas… might just keep you there. 

 

 

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EXCERPT

“Beck?” I managed to get his name out just before he opened the front door.

“Yeah?” He spun back to face me, his dark eyes unreadable.

I turned my face to the side so I could see him fully. “You don’t have to go,” I said softly. “You can stay. Only if you want to though.”

He rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes never leaving mine, then walked back into the kitchen toward me. I stood up away from the fridge as he stopped right next to me.

Slowly, he touched his hand to my face, his fingertips teasing my hairline. His dark gaze searched mine, and my heart jumped into my throat as the usual tingles his touch sparked danced down my neck. Then, he slid his hand into my hair, allowing the blonde strands to fall away from his fingertips.

“Do I want to go home to my big-ass house with its cold emptiness?” he asked in a low voice. “Or go to the club where half the girls there still see me as a mountain to be conquered? Not particularly, Blondie. I’d rather stay here. Even if there will be a demand for movies and water and foot rubs from a tiny, sick person.”

“You can.” My voice was quiet, like his. Even if my internal screams from self-preservation and vulnerability were deafeningly loud as they told me I was a fool, that he had

to go, that this would never be enough for him.

“Do you want me to?” His question was… honest.

Raw.

Hesitant.

Like he didn’t want me to answer.

“Do I want you to stay here in my tiny house so my daughter can fall more in love with you than she already is? Not really. But…” Don’t be a fool, Cassie. Don’t admit you want him to stay. He’s just going to hurt you. “I don’t exactly want you to go either.”

“For her, or for you?”

“I don’t want to answer that question.”

“If I kissed you right now, would you ram your knee into my cock?”

“I’d briefly consider it, but I probably wouldn’t do it.”

His lips twitched to the side. “You just answered the question.”

Then, of course, he cupped the back of my head, and he kissed me. It was slow, sweet, gentle. And I didn’t consider kneeing him in the balls for a single second.

Beck pulled back and trailed his hand down my arm before he finally let me go. “I’m going home to get changed and then come back. Do you need anything while I’m gone? For CiCi? You?”

“I don’t…” I sighed and chewed back my pride. “I meant to go to the store today after work to get some stuff like bread, milk… important stuff. But now I can’t.”

“I can get it. Just tell me what you need.”

I bit the inside of my lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let me write it down.” I walked through into the front room with him hot on my heels and grabbed the notebook and pen from under the coffee table. A few things were already scrawled down, so I added a couple more things, including more medicine. I tore the sheet off the notebook, stood, then gave it to Beck. “Let me get my wallet.”

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “I’m not taking your money.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “You can’t pay for my groceries.”

“I can and I will.”

“You can’t and you won’t.”

“I can and I will.”

“You can’t and you won’t.”

“I can do this all day, baby. I’m stubborn as fuck.” His eyes told me he wasn’t lying. “And we all know I’m a brat about the word no. So, I can, I will, and I’m going to. If I can’t help you by buying a measly eight items, I’m an asshole who shouldn’t be allowed around other people.”

“You can’t buy my groceries,” I repeated. It was a lame argument. I was going to lose, but I’d fight until I went down.

Beck’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in. “Don’t worry. If you really want to pay me back, I’ll take a blow job. I imagine your lips around my cock will be a pretty good thank you.”

My jaw dropped as he backed off with a wink.

“Mouth open already, Cassie? Enthusiasm. I like that.”

I snapped my jaw shut and glared at him. “You’re a dirty pig.”

“I know. But I’ve got fifty bucks that says you’ll be sucking my dick by bedtime. If you don’t agree…” He shrugged one shoulder, his lips curved in that dangerous smirk.

“If you’re lucky, I’ll bite it.”

“I’ll take that as I’m in for a good time.”

One more wink, complete with expanding grin, and he was gone.

Motherfucking asshole.

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By day, NeDSC_9249w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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Twirled Bond by Emma Hart ~ Release Day Blitz

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TwirledBond-FINAL-highIf I thought Holly Woods was crazy before, I was wrong.

Devin is finally married. Nonna’s on the wedding warpath. Drake might be getting ideas. His mom just dropped a bombshell, and Bek is caught between a hot as hell FBI agent and my super-sweet little brother.

And I still don’t have the shoe closet Drake promised me when he moved in six months ago.

At least there’s one positive: the old, abandoned Holly Woods Theater is about to reopen, and there’s nothing like a theater opening to bring people together… And make crazy grandmothers forget proposal agendas.

Until that theater comes with a dead body. A very, very, very dead body.

Chaos is coming to town.

Everything I’ve ever known about Holly Woods might just be about to change.

 

 

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BANNER

TWISTED BOND

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TANGLED BOND

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TETHERED BOND:

TIED BOND:

By day, NeDSC_9249w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP HERE FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO

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Holly Woods Files Box Set by Emma Hart ~ Release Blitz

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hwfmaybeboxsetThe first four books in the Holly Woods Files romantic mystery series by New York Times Bestseller, Emma Hart.

One sassy private eye. One sexy, stubborn detective. One loyal best friend. One crazy Italian grandmother. One over-protective family.

Cupcakes. Tension. Sex…

And murder.

Welcome to Holly Woods, Texas. You’ll never look at a small town the same way again…

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By day, NeDSC_9249w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP HERE FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO

NEWSLETTER

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

Stripped Bare by Emma Hart ~ Release Day Blitz

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sbcover

What do you get when you mix a bachelorette party, the queen of dating disasters, and a stripper so hot he was forged from the fires of hell? Screwed. You get screwed….

 

Cocky. Commanding. Powerful. Relentless.

Those four words all summed up West Rykman perfectly.

So did filthy, dirty, sexy, and addictive.

He was supposed to be my one night stand…not my new marketing client.

He was definitely not supposed to be back inside my pants, not that anybody told him that.

I knew one thing: What West Rykman wanted, West Rykman got.

And he wanted me.

 

What happens in Vegas… might just make you stay.

 

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HARPERQUOTE

“You should have come and got me when that prick made you uncomfortable.”

I turned to face him. “Are you seriously telling me off?”

We paused as the traffic stopped, and he cut his gaze to me. “I couldn’t see you. I told you it wasn’t safe for you to go alone.”

I rolled my eyes. “He was only there for two minutes. I would have stabbed him with my stiletto before he could do anything.”

“And I believe you, but it doesn’t change the fact that he made you uncomfortable.”

We turned a corner.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you just because you’re determined to do market research.”

“Nothing happened to me.”

“Mia, it doesn’t change the fact that it couldn’t. He only left because I showed up. I watched the entire fucking thing.”

“And you only came in at the end? Gee, thanks, West. Knight in fucking shining armor right there, aren’t you?” I ran my fingers through my hair and looked away. The light curls were still in place, although they were more of a lazy wave, and I stared at my reflection in the side mirror. “We should probably not do this again.”

“On the contrary, I was having fun until the end. I don’t have fun much.”

“Looking out for me was fun? Yeah, okay.”

“I told you,” he said, pulling up outside my apartment block, which was really more of a converted three-story house. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d feel bad.”

“Well, thanks. I’m gonna look over these notes in the morning and I’ll e-mail you. Okay?” I paused with my hand on the door and glanced back at him.

He was out of the fucking car.

Why was he out of the fucking car?

“Why are you out of the car?”

He smirked. Damn that smirk. “I’m taking you up.”

“Like hell you are.” I slammed the door and walked around the sleek Audi to stand right in front of him. I looked up at him and caught his gaze. “I can make it in and out of an elevator.”

“I’m sure you can. But I’m still taking you up.”

“No. You’re not!”

“All right, then.” He grabbed my waist and lifted me.

A shriek escaped between my lips as he swung me upward and over his shoulder. I scrambled to keep hold of my purse, but he ignored me as he carried me inside and pushed the elevator button.

“West! Put me down right now!”

He ignored me again and tightened his grip around my thighs when I tried to wriggle down. His strength was crazy. I was stuck there.

“Put me down! Now!”

He shook his head, this time acknowledging my words. But that was it. A fucking head shake.

“This is hardly professional!” I yelled, my voice echoing off walls of the metal box that was the elevator. I couldn’t believe he’d slung me over his shoulder like some kind of caveman.

Yo, Wilma, Betty? Fred and Barney escaped. I found one of them.

“West Rykman, I swear to a god I don’t believe in that, if you don’t put me down right this goddamn second, I’m going to tear your balls off with my bare hands and shove them up your ass!”

The elevators doors opened, and he took the few steps toward my door before finally, slowly, lowering me back down to the ground.

“Ugh!” As soon as my feet hit the floor, I stepped back and glared at him. “How dare you manhandle me?”

He fixed his bright, Caribbean-blue eyes on mine and curved his lips. “I told you I was taking you upstairs. I didn’t tell you I was walking you up.”

“You’re an animal.”

“You weren’t coming up alone. I was raised a gentleman.”

That made me stop rummaging for my keys and raise my eyebrows in disbelief. “You take off your clothes for a living, and the first time we met, you flexed your cock against my face.”

He grabbed my waist for a second time tonight and spun me against my door. I dropped my purse in my shock, but I couldn’t reach for it because he’d cupped my chin and forced me to look at him.

“And the second time we met,” he said in a low voice, “you flexed my cock against the back of your throat. What point are you trying to make, angel?”

“That you’re no more a gentleman than I am a lady,” I shot back. “Now, let me go so I can go inside and consider how we continue this professional relationship.”

West searched my eyes for a long moment before dropping his hand. He took half a step back, and I went to reach for my purse, but he changed his mind.

He smoothly spun back to me, and no sooner had I met the flash of his blue eyes than he had his mouth on mine. I let out a quiet moan when he swept his tongue across the seam of my lips and wrapped one arm around my waist. He pulled our bodies together, my shoulders pressing into the door, and kissed me deeply.

My head swam. I couldn’t make head or tails of this, and although it was wrong, so wrong, I couldn’t stop.

The kiss was hot—oh god, so hot—and my whole body felt like it was on fire as I wound my fingers in the collar of his shirt and held him closer to me. His fingers twitched against my back as one of his hands slid down and cupped my ass. He squeezed, pulling my hips to his. His erection was obvious, pushing into me, and I whimpered into his mouth.

God, I wanted him.

He pulled away from me as abruptly as he’d kissed me, but he didn’t move. His mouth eased its way across my jaw to my ear, and his hot breath skittered across my skin when he paused there.

“I might call you angel, but I have a feeling you’re going to be my own personal sin, Mia O’Halloran.”

He kissed the tender spot just beneath my ear, making me shiver, and released me. I struggled to control my breathing as I watched him walk away toward the stairwell. He paused at the top, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip.

He turned.

Dropped his gaze to my mouth.

Met my eyes.

Disappeared.

I sank back against my door. I could still feel his touch. His taste lingered on my lips, and although it wasn’t anything incredibly specific, he was there, teasing me without being near me. I brushed hair from my face, picked my purse up, and dug for my key. I found it and let myself into the dark apartment.

I locked the door behind me and walked to my bed. I’d barely undressed and retrieved my phone with its alarm before I buried myself beneath the sheets.

Shit.

SBlive

 

By day, NeDSC_9249w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP HERE FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | NEWSLETTER

Dirty Little Rendezvous by Emma Hart ~ Release Day Blitz

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DIRTY LITTLE RENDEZVOUS FINAL COVER take 2Sometimes the past becomes the present… And he’s hot, cocky, and British.

Leila Burke expected a lot of things when she joined her brothers on tour in Europe. He wasn’t one of them.

Jase Masters had no idea what to expect when he agreed to support Dirty B. on tour. She definitely wasn’t it.

It’s been eighteen months.

He remembers that night a little too well.

She insists she has no idea who he is.

He’s rugged and determined.

She’s wild and free.

Together, they’re a tornado.

Keeping it from touching down is the least of their worries.

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He’s so close that my eyes shut, but I force them open again, only because I want to see how green his eyes really are when the sun glances over them.
“The British are idiots,” I mumble, unable to form any further words—or any that are more coherent than those.
“Truth. If only because I can taste your lips and I haven’t touched them yet.”
“I think that makes you real—”
He cuts me off by doing exactly what he just mentioned—touching my lips with his. It’s the exact same as this morning, just fresher, almost. Realer. They’re heated from the sun, chilled from the wine we had at the bar around the corner not thirty minutes ago, and…softer.
Softer—yeah.
Hesitant yet somehow forceful.
Unsure yet oddly certain.
Mesmerizing. Consuming.
I grasp his shirt in my hand, wrapping my fingers in the soft material, as he moves closer to me and his other arm snakes around my body. He pulls me against him, and I slide along the wooden seat, my heart thundering in my chest.
I’ve been here for twenty-four hours.
I don’t want to stop.
I don’t want to change this.
I don’t know what’s happening.
I can’t feel my toes because they’re curled so hard. I can’t feel my fingers because they’re gripping him so tight. I can’t feel my lips because I’m kissing him so firmly.
I can’t feel my heart’s beats.
It’s beating too solidly, too firmly, too quickly, too erratically, for me to get a handle on it. My stomach is flipping and my lungs tightening and I swear to god, I’m consumed.
Jase.
Twenty-four hours.
A guy I’ve met once before last night.
And I’m consumed.
I’m scared.
I pull back from him, just our mouths, for just a second, before he pulls me right back in. I’m compelled to continue kissing him, and I wish I weren’t, but it’s as though a year never passed and I’m right back in London with the boy from the coffee shop.
I feel the way I did then. Racing heart when he kisses me, tingling skin when he touches me, butterflying stomach when he looks at me…
Except this is no coffee shop.
This isn’t London.
A year has passed.
And he’s not just a guy trying to figure out lyrics.
Not anymore.
He’s a potential international superstar, loved by possibly millions, obsessed over by far more. His lyrics could be written for him. His music produced for him. His schedule organized for him.
And I’m just a girl living in the shadows of her famous brothers, happy for a quiet life by the beach, where the loudest scream is that of the ocean crashing against the rocks that dare break the perfection of the sand.

 

 

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By day, NeDSC_9249w York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

SIGN UP HERE FOR ALL NEW RELEASE INFO

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE | NEWSLETTER

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