BREAK by Molly McLain

Break (1)

Title: Break

Series: Vegas Heat #2

Author: Molly McLain

Cover Designer: Designs by Dana

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: January 24



Even the strongest cry…

The Tough Guy

I watched my best friend overdose with a needle in his arm. Just one time, he said. You’re not living ‘til you’ve tried everything. Well, f*ck that shit. I learned the hard way that some risks aren’t worth taking. Especially the ones that feel good.

The Nurse

For three years, I’ve dreamed of him. The fear in his eyes…the guilt he took on when my brother died. I hate that he’s done this to himself, but there’s not a damn thing I can do to break down the walls he’s built around himself.

Unless I do the unthinkable. The one thing that might rattle his cage…

Break Coming Soon

The Series



About the Author


Like many novelists, especially romance writers, my infatuation with a good love story began early. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I’ll admit that Barbie and Ken acted more than a couple of the story lines I had in my head (sorry, Mom, but, no, not all of them were kid-appropriate). The obsession continued to grow as I got older and, whenever I left home, I always had a wire-bound notebook and a blue ballpoint pen in hand. In fact, every August, I still get that goofy, schoolgirl itch to buy up oodles of pens and paper, because, while I love my laptop, nothing compares to writing long-hand. If the house is quiet and there’s a thunderstorm rumbling outside, even better.

Not that I have the slightest a clue what a quiet house is anymore. Having three rambunctious (but awesome) kids, a zippy dog and a pesky cat has completely blurred my memory of peace and quiet. Oh, and I have a husband too–I call him the FisherGuy–and he’s probably louder and crazier than all the rest. I think I’ll keep him though. After all, he keeps me in fresh fish year-round (yum!) and he’s good hero material. Did I mention he’s also a firefighter?

We live in Northern Wisconsin and, let me tell ya, living here has provided lots of small-town fodder for this writer’s overactive imagination. Of course, I know no one who’s lived anything close to the steamy experiences I write about (not that I’d tell ya if I did *wink*). There’s something inherently sexy about not knowing what goes on behind closed doors…or even better, letting my imagination run free, concocting all kinds of stories and scenarios and putting them down on paper. Or my laptop.

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I’d come to accept the predictable routine of my life until I saw her ass in those riding pants. Constance Montgomery…damn, with her legs spread on the leather of the saddle has my mouth watering and things inside me shift. Seems my program is about to change. All the years of indifference to any female form all come tumbling down. My hard rule to never get involved with a student is about to be broken. With her.

Reed Sawyer is at the top of his game. An elite equestrian trainer with looks to kill and he’s staring straight at me. Only, he’s not my trainer because my parents make all those decisions. I’m tired of being under my parent’s thumb. Maybe it’s time I pushed the envelope a little. And Reed Sawyer looks like just the right wall to start pushing on.

A naïve, sheltered girl. A brooding, perfectionist with years of pent up need. The sparks fly. The walls come down. Hot lessons are learned.

Author’s Note: A hot instructor, a riding crop and that old phrase about a guy being hung like a…Well you get the idea. Jump on for a ride that will have you reaching for a cool Mint Julip and a fresh pair of panties. It’s scorching hot, sweet and filthy romance with instant everything.


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I’m supposed to be here to help her, but I can’t help what happens next.  She squeezed my fingers. A gentle tug was all it took.
My mouth nearly crushes hers as I take our first kiss.

Her lips taste innocent as they open, my tongue lighting up with the first flavor of her.  Something rumbles out of me like a pained groan, because it hurts.  This kind of intensity hurts in a spectacular way.

Her tongue answers me with its movement, her own sweet, tiny sounds that make my dick shatter the ceiling of the space available in my pants.  He’s curling in half as he grows, and I hope she doesn’t notice.

If I had my way, I’d hear that tiny moan every second of every day for the rest of my life.  It’s more than beautiful; it calls to me.


It’s lips and soft moans and the soft click of teeth meeting teeth before I break away, my hand grasping possessively around the side of her face.  My thumb rasping back and forth in an attempt to feel as much of her soft skin as it can.  My fingertips digging harder than they should into the back of her neck, bringing my forehead to rest on hers.

“I’m sorry.”  My face is flushed, I’m shaking.  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My head is throbbing, along with my balls.  They are tight against my body and something inside me is born.  Something that wants her in a way that frightens me.  An obsession explodes and I’m not sure I can tame it enough to keep from hurting her.  I want my cum dripping from her; I want to feel her flesh to flesh from the inside.  I need her vulnerable, available, spread for me to enjoy and make filthy with me.  Never before has a woman ignited this kind of lust, these kinds of thoughts, and frankly I’m scared shitless.

“I’m not sorry,” she murmurs as I desperately try to regain control of the animal she’s created in me.


The air in the room seems to disappear.  My lungs ache but inside my head, I think, who needs oxygen?  I have only one need and she is the only way to satiate that need.

The idea that this innocent beauty and I are sharing similar thoughts is enough to make me nearly cum in my pants.  Drops of liquid are already soaking through the fabric below my waist, and I think I would need another ten layers to hide her effect on me.

The sight of her cheeks rising pink, the way her nipples greet my gaze from under the faded hospital gown, make me want to tear the offending fabric into shreds and have her never be clothed around me again.  Who is this dominant beast?  I’m the ever reserved, commanding, cool leader.  Always in control.

Not now.  If I had my way, I’d slam the furniture against the door of this room and take her right here.  A single word thrums in my head.  It won’t stop as much as I try to push it away.

Mine.  Mine.  Mine.


I fight the urge to crawl on top of her and make her filthy in ways I never imagined before her. But with the taste of her lips, thoughts of my cum inside her are fighting with the civilized parts of me to maintain some control.

I imagine slicing my tongue between her dripping cunt lips for the first time.  It’s one of many things I’ve never done before.  My words growling into her body, saying every filthy word I can think of as I breathe her in and swallow her flavor.

I imagine the subtle differences in the texture of her skin on my tongue, the ripples and folds, the hard nub where I want to draw her between my lips and consume the very essence of her.  I want to make love to her with my mouth for hours.


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Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.


She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.


When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
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LOVE, LUST & LIZZIE by Tiffani Lynn

Opposites attract but what happens when they actually connect?
Together Lizzie and Beckett are like lighter fluid on hot coals and equally as complicated. She was raised among the country club elite while he grew up in the suburbs surrounded by blue collar people. Although Lizzie’s family isn’t jumping for joy at her new relationship, it’s the salt-of-the-earth people Beckett holds dearest who work the hardest to split them up. Beckett has to make a decision, the woman of his dreams or the family who has always had his back.



~ Before Miami, I would never have stripped off my clothes in a fully lit room in front of a man, but something about the way Beckett looks at me gives me confidence to be the kind of woman who will.

~ I never had a man before him who ran as hot as he does. This man is insatiable. His gaze drops to my mouth and the smirk returns. He knows very well what he does to me.

~ His smile this time is different than previous ones. It’s spectacular and slightly predatory.

~ It means, you’re a great guy, but on paper you two don’t match. She’s embossed parchment from a fancy-assed printer and you’re wide-ruled notebook paper from Walmart. You know what I mean so don’t act offended.



~ Tiffani Lynn is a music loving, baseball adoring, crazed hockey fan. She lives on the west coast of Florida with her husband and three daughters. When she can spare a moment she reads contemporary romance novels and watches movies. Love, Lust & Lizzie is Tiffani’s third published book with a fourth release set for January 2017.




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COLD HEARTED by Winter Renshaw



Coming January 31st


I wish I could say our meeting was happenstance.

I wish I could say we took one look and we just knew.

I wish I could say falling for him was the best thing that ever happened to me.

But none of that would be true.

Rhett Carson was as cold as the ice on which he skated. He was as calloused as the hands that shot the goals that won world titles. He was also damaged. And broken. And he didn’t know it, but I knew all about him.

I knew why he was so bitter and angry.

I knew why he was so coldhearted.

But I didn’t know why I allowed myself fall in love with him, and I didn’t know why I couldn’t stop…even when he told me to.

And that’s when everything changed.
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.


And if you’d like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here —>
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BLACKOUT: The Cyborg Chronicles Book 1 by Bethany Shaw


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Everyone Lara loves dies. All she wants is to be numb, and she’s about to get her wish…

Cyborg 112115 has one mission: kill Commander Mac St. Clair. But she can’t pull the trigger. There is something about him that’s too familiar, and he seems to know her.

With no memories of her own, she must decide whether to trust her instinct or the chip implanted in her head.

Mac’s world ended when Lara Douglas was killed in action. Eight months later, on an opp deep in enemy territory, he becomes the target of an assassin. The cyborg fails at her mission, and doesn’t have any memory of who she was or how she became a cyborg. Determined to help the woman, Mac takes the cyborg with him in hopes of unlocking her memories.

If he’s wrong about her, it could cost the rebellion.

But if he’s right… then he might be able to save her.



Excerpt 1

Mac raced up faster, pistol cocked and ready to aim. He rounded the corner into the room, ready to shoot, but stopped. The sniper had Gage pinned to the floor, forearm pressed against his neck as they choked the life out of him. He paused as he stared at her. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. She was dead, or so he’d been led to believe.

“Lara?” he asked, his voice coming out more of a croak. His heart raced. It was Lara. The realization made his pulse roar in his ears. Lara was alive. Thank God. It was the second chance he’d prayed for but didn’t think he’d get.

She turned her head, her hazel eyes connecting with his. Something flickered over her features but flitted away just as quickly. A stony mask took over. He gulped as his heart restricted painfully. He’d seen that look before: on cyborgs.

It couldn’t be. Not his Lara. What had the World Alliance done to her?

Gage sputtered, drawing Mac from his thoughts and back to his sniper struggling against Lara’s grip. Mac blinked his surprise away and lifted his gun, aiming it at her head. Shit. She was killing his man. He knew he should squeeze the trigger. If it were anyone else he would’ve.

“Get off him.”

Lara turned back to Gage but, instead of letting up, she pressed harder. Gage wheezed as he tried to push her off.

Mac cocked his gun. “Now, Lara!”

He hoped she listened because he wasn’t sure he could shoot her. The eight months since her alleged death had done nothing to stifle his feelings for her. Lara was the love of his life. Losing her had been the hardest thing to accept. But here she was, alive.

Gage gurgled as he flailed.

“Come on. I know you; you don’t want to kill him. That’s Gage, your partner.” Mac took a step closer. His finger trembled around the trigger as he kept it pointed at her head.

Lara let up and stood slowly, putting her hands up. Before he could blink, her hand went to her holster, and she’d drawn another weapon. It went off with a bang. Gage kicked her in the leg, sending her crashing to the floor. She landed on her butt.

The bullet missed him for the second time today, and he couldn’t help but think it wasn’t a coincidence. Lara didn’t miss. Ever. The World Alliance might have messed with her brain, but part of her was still in there. He just had to find her.

Mac sped across the room and kicked the gun from her hand, then knelt next to her, putting the barrel of his gun to her temple. She blinked up at him with her mesmerizing hazel eyes. God, he couldn’t shoot her. What the hell was he doing? But he wasn’t going to just leave her here either.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he said. When she didn’t comply, he pressed the barrel harder against her temple, but not enough to cause her pain. “Now!”

She moved her hands, placing them by the small of her back. He stood and pulled a few zip ties from his pocket and handed them to Gage. “Put these on her.”


“Do it,” he said. They didn’t have time to argue.

Gage eyed him for a moment before swiping the ties out of his hand. He bound her hands together, pulling the ties tight enough so she couldn’t move her wrists at all.

“Gage, get her bags. You—” he pushed the gun against Lara’s face “—get up. You’re coming with us.”

“Sir,” Gage said, shaking his head as he picked up Lara’s bags and gun. He pulled back the chamber. “We should kill it right now.”

Mac growled. How dare he talk about her like that? “Lara Douglas is a member of the rebellion.”

Gage looked from her to Mac. “She’s not Lara Douglas anymore. We’re doing Lara a favor by killing her body.”

Mac sneered at the sniper. Lara was still in there. He’d lost her once — he wasn’t going to do it again. “She’s coming with us.”

This could be the stupidest thing he’d ever done but damn it, he couldn’t leave her and God knew he couldn’t kill her.


Excerpt 2

Lara let him lead her inside and up the steps. They stopped on the third floor and walked down a long, narrow hallway. The lights were out and most of the apartment doors had been left open after the resident’s hasty escapes. Mac chose the sixth door on the right and let them in.

He closed the door behind them and pulled his gun from his holster. Lara watched as he canvassed the apartment before returning to the front room.

“No one’s here,” he said.

She wouldn’t expect there to be, with the bombs exploding outside. Any sane person would be running for cover. What did that say about her and Mac?

“We’ll lay low here for a while. Stay away from the windows and see if you can find a camera or a phone. We’ll need something to record with. I’ll try to reach Minerva and Gage on the radio in a while once things have settled outside,” Mac said, going into the kitchen.

Lara nodded as he started to rifle through the cupboards. Was he looking for food, or did he honestly think a camera or phone might be in there? She shrugged to herself and went to the living room.

It was dark in here too, but the glow of the fires peeked through the curtains, letting in enough light for her to see. There was a couch, two recliners, and a small TV in an entertainment unit. She went to the stand and looked at the items. No camera or phone. Next, she went to the couch and fumbled around the cushions, but came up empty there too.

She shifted her attention to Mac. He definitely wasn’t looking for a phone. It looked like he was opening a few cans of food and putting them into bowls. Food did sound good. When was the last time she had eaten? He might not be getting food for her, though. She watched him a moment longer before going to the bedrooms.

The first one was empty except for a double set of bunk beds, but in the second she found a cell phone tucked in one of the nightstand drawers with the cord hanging out. Its charger was plugged into a socket in the wall. She touched the screen and smiled, finding it fully charged despite the lack of power. Grabbing both, she went back out to the kitchen.

“I found a phone and a charger.” She held up the items.

“Good.” Mac smiled as he slid a bowl toward her. “Hungry?”

She set the phone and charger down and picked up the bowl, lifting it to her nose. It smelled wonderful compared to the grub she’d been given in the hospital.

“It’s one of your favorites,” Mac said. “Not as good as fresh papaya in Hawaii, which is your absolute favorite, but it’s a close second.”

“You know my favorite fruit?” she asked as she picked up a piece of pineapple and plopped it in her mouth. The fruit squished between her teeth and she savored the taste of it. It tasted really good. Greedily, she scooped more out of the bowl.

“There’s a lot I know about you,” he said as he took a bite of his own food. It wasn’t pineapple but she couldn’t tell what it was.

“Gage said you didn’t like me. That we didn’t get along.” Lara picked up another fruit chunk and studied it.

Mac chuckled. “Our relationship was complex.”

“Relationship?” Had they been more than teammates? She’d thought so until Gage had said otherwise.

“What do you think?” Mac asked as he met her gaze.

She inhaled and let it out. Her heart pattered a little faster against her ribs and she licked her lips. “We were lovers.” She swallowed hard and looked away, hoping she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

“You remember?” Mac asked his voice dipping to a husky tone as he came around the counter to stand next to her.

She shook her head and looked into her bowl. The images were true. She’d been intimate with this man. Did she love him? She must feel something for him, which is why she hadn’t been able to pull the trigger.

Swallowing the chunk of fruit in her mouth, she cleared her throat. “No. I’ve had a few flashes, images really, but no real memories. Not of you — of us.”

Mac reached up and touched her cheek, letting his fingers run down to her chin, tilting it so she was looking up at him. His fingers were calloused, but his touch made gooseflesh break out over her skin.

She wanted more. He took a step closer, causing her to hold her breath.

“Minerva said strong emotions could trigger memories. That’s what happened with Cedric, right?” His thumb grazed over her lips and she gasped as he got even closer.

The mechanical heart thudded against her ribs, which caused her pulse to roar in her ears. “That’s right.”

“I want to try something.” He brought his mouth inches from hers before stopping. His gaze flicked to hers as if asking for permission.

He was going to kiss her, and she wanted to let him. She nodded and closed her eyes, leaning forward.

Mac’s lips grazed against hers at first, caressing them lightly before he deepened the kiss. His tongue parted her mouth and dipped inside. One of his hands went to her hip, pushing her against the counter so he could press himself against her.

His hardened length rubbed against her thigh, and she wondered what it would feel like to have it buried deep inside her. She shuddered at the thought. Her fingers glided up his chest to grab the lapels of his jacket.


About the Author

Bethany Shaw lives in Ohio with her husband and two kids. Writing has always been her passion and she loves sharing her stories with readers. When she isn’t writing, she is spending time with her family enjoying bike rides, bowling, and board games.




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HATE STORY by Nicole Williams







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Nina can’t let herself fall in love with the man she’s going to marry. Both of them have experienced the sting and sham of love and have no intentions of falling victim to it twice. Love is expensive—hate is free.

Three years. A million dollars. A solution to both of their problems. They planned it all, from the story of their first meeting to the date of their divorce. Nothing could go wrong.

But what they didn’t consider was chemistry, and Nina and Max have no shortage of it. After too many near-kisses, Nina convinces herself that hating Max is better than loving him, and the more she gets to know this soon-to-be-husband of hers, the more she discovers just how very much she truly, madly, and deeply . . . hates him.

This isn’t a love story. This is the other kind.


“Okay. So how do you think this is going?” Max tipped the broom handle between us. “You and me?”
My forehead pinched together. “You and me the plan? Or you and me the surprise?”
Max’s brow answered my question.
“And this topic is what you consider not-so-deep?” I nudged him and moved to finish stocking syrups.
“All I’m looking for is a simple estimation. Since we were just talking about school, give us a grade for how you think this is going.”
“A grade? Like A, B, C, D, F?”
“Exactly like that.”
I shook my head. “Did you have a rough day at work today? Lose an Olympic-size swimming pool of money or something? Are you needing your daily ego stroking to come from somewhere else today?” When I glanced back at him, I found Max leaning into the door he’d relocked, arms crossed and waiting.
“Our relationship is unique,” he said. “Intricate. I’m asking not because I need my ego stroked, but because I care. If I need to make some changes, I’m willing to. Anything you need, whatever you want, that’s what I’ll give you. But first, I have to know how I’m doing.”
If a man could get a woman pregnant from a piercing stare and a collection of words, I’d just gotten myself good and knocked up. With twins.
“You know how it’s going,” I said, trying to focus on the syrups instead of what—or who—I wanted to focus on.
“I know how I think it’s going. I’d like to know how you think it’s going.”
My mouth went a little dry. Having these kinds of talks was hard for anyone—they were next to impossible for me. “Well, you haven’t gone and confessed your undying love or scared the hell out of me by asking me to be your baby mama, so you’re keeping your promise to take it nice and slow.” When he gave a mini bow, I rolled my eyes. “Not to mention you aren’t too shabby in the sack, you don’t leave dirty dishes in the sink, and you share the remote well.”
Max’s face went flat. “Not too shabby?”
“Oh, please. You know how good you are. Stop fishing for compliments.” A flush crept up my neck as I thought of the most recent evidence to support that theory.
A slow, crooked smile spread across his face. “I want a grade.”
“Like comprehensive? Or broken down by category?” I was stalling, and Max knew I was stalling.
“You’re making this way too difficult,” he grumbled.
“An A minus,” I said abruptly. “I’d give you an A minus.”
“Why not an A plus?”
I kept my head turned so he couldn’t see my smile. Only Max Sturm would be outraged by an A minus. “Because there’s always room for improvement. And I wouldn’t want it to go to your head, that’s why not an A plus.”
The door creaked when he shoved off of it. He made no move to tame the way he was checking me out, leaning into the counter as I organized the syrups. “Something’s definitely going to my head.”
My gaze roamed his zipper region. “I was talking about the one north of your neck.”
“And I’m talking about the one at the end of my dick. My, at present, hard dick, thanks to you.” He came up behind me, fitting himself against my backside as his hands moved around to work on my jeans.
“Max,” I protested, my eyes closing a second later when his dick nuzzled deeper into my backside.
“Nina. I’m taking your body. Here. Now.” His chest pressed into my back as he lowered my zipper. “Accept that so we can move on to the next part.”


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Nicole Williams is the New York Times and USATODAY bestselling author of contemporary and young adult romance, including the Crash and Lost & Found series. Her books have been published by HarperTeen and Simon & Schuster in both domestic and foreign markets, while she continues to self-publish additional titles. She is working on a new YA series with Crown Books (a division of Random House) as well. She loves romance, from the sweet to the steamy, and writes stories about characters in search of their happily even after. She grew up surrounded by books and plans on writing until the day she dies, even if it’s just for her own personal enjoyment. She still buys paperbacks because she’s all nostalgic like that, but her kindle never goes neglected for too long. When not writing, she spends her time with her husband and daughter, and whatever time’s left over she’s forced to fit too many hobbies into too little time.
Nicole is represented by Jane Dystel, of Dystel and Goderich Literary Agency.