Category: book tour

Thin, pale, awkward, bullied, Sam Every is a thirteen-year-old who finds

comfort among his friends and his days at the beach. The ocean
beckons to him. It is where he feels safest. Fitting in no longer
matters when he is near the Pacific’s rolling waves. Gazing toward
the endless blue where it touches the horizon, he imagines the ports
he might someday reach and ponders his future.

Little does he know an apparition—a hauntingly beautiful girl from the
sea—will lead him farther from his home than he could ever dream,
for destiny has given him a dangerous legacy

 

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Thirteen-
year-old Sam Every has traveled back in time to the Golden Age of Piracy toface Captain Jem Slayer, master of the dark arts. Deceived into
handing Slayer the ultimate weapon, the Sword of Zel-Kar, Sam has
lost his hands, sliced off in his first clash with the evil pirate.

But all is not lost.

Sam’s friends have found their way back in time, and with the help of the
pirate hunter, Benjamin Hornigold, have rescued him from the island
where Slayer marooned him. Now, aided by a new band of rogues and a
mystery friend, Sam must rise above his injuries and find the
strength to again face Slayer before it is too late—before the
future is forever shattered.

 

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The Dangerous Legacy
Thunder erupted again in the distance. The splash of a second cannonball,
closer than the first, rocked The Mutineer. But had the cannon fire come from
Fog Island or another vessel? “Who’s after us?” Sam shouted.
The man who had saved them sprinted to the tiller to take control of the sloop
before he bothered to answer Sam’s question. He pulled sharply on the tiller.
The sloop lurched to the right until the deck nearly touched water. Sam fell
and rolled against a crate. Seawater spilled into the boat and drenched him.
His back tingled again.
The burning blade! Did it call to him? If so, he ignored it. A fire sword
magically embedded in his back would not stop The Mutineer from capsizing,
which the boat was about to do. It didn’t. Instead, the sloop’s speed doubled
as the man brought the craft in line with a stronger windstream.
“Look!” the man pointed to the right of The Mutineer. Sam, now back on his
feet, stared in the direction he pointed. Through the darkness was the outline
of a large craft three stories high. “The way I see it,” the man shouted over the
crash of water against his ship’s hull, “if Maximilian Black is after you, you
must have angered Captain Jem Slayer. Slayer is a bloodthirsty pirate with his
own fleet and enough wealth to command an army of pirates; and Black is
Slayer’s right hand.”
Sam held onto the railing for balance and inched closer to Sarah. She
watched the mystery man from the side as if… as if she doesn’t want to make
eye contact. Maybe she doesn’t trust him as much as she said. Maybe she
senses something.
Sarah grasped his hand and gently squeezed.
He nodded to her. “It’s going to be all right,” he lied.
The man continued to shout his explanation. “Since Black failed, I assume
Slayer has sent a warship to do what Black could not. Kill you!” He looked at
the sails of his sloop. “Hang on, young ones! We are going to race the wind!”
One more explosion cut through the night. A cannonball screamed as it
hurtled toward them. “No!” Sam mouthed moments before the cannonball
splashed into the sea yards from the hull. Water sprayed onto the deck.“Ha, you bloody heathens! You shall not catch The Mutineer tonight!” The
man held the tiller with one hand and shook a fist with the other.
As they pushed farther out to sea, the moon emerged from behind a cloud
and revealed the pursuing ship. The glow showed a vessel with three masts
topped with squared sails.
Two rows of dark squares dotted the length of her hull— gunports. So this is
what a warship looks like. We’re dead. A cloud began to eclipse the moon, but
before it did, Sam saw the mark emblazoned on the flag that soared above
the ship— a skull and bones. “Pirates!”

 

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How do you choose between two women, when only the love of both will

bring you harmony?

Cameron was born a falcon shifter, but when his arrogance prompted a total

disregard to safety, he was attacked by a bear shifter. Living with
two predatory animals who want control makes it hard to find peace.
When he meets the new chef, Eliza, his bear recognizes his mate, but
his falcon longs for Skylar. When an opportunity presents itself that
will make all the three happy, Eliza’s heart fights against her
traditional upbringing. Faced with a choice, she retreats into fear
and uncertainty. Skylar knows her love is not confined to a
predetermined set of societal norms. She has to break through the
walls Cameron and Eliza built, but that’s not easy when Cam’s
heart is split in two and Eliza refuses to believe she deserves
happiness. Can three unique hearts turn their back on tradition and
forge a new type of bond in order to bring harmony to their life?

Terri is a former
English teacher and librarian. She taught middle and high
school and college. Now she works from home homeschooling her twodaughters and living out her dreams via her stories. She began
escaping into books a little later than most but was hooked after the
first book she read. It has been her dream to give back to the book
world since she was in second grade.

To find

out more about her characters and the lives they live, check out
her website,
http://www.terriluvsbooks.com
.
Follow her on Amazon and Goodreads, or connect with through Facebook,
Twitter, and Instagram.

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*
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From Harmony for My Mate

Cameron crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. Watching Eliza work in the
kitchen was like watching an artist paint a canvas. She ignored everything around her
and focused on the food, chopping, sautéing, and tasting. He had no clue what came
out of her magical jars, but the smell made his mouth water and her happiness made
his cock hard. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her, but he didn’t understand how
to make that happen.
“Are you going to stand there all night and watch or get going on that onion?”
He smiled. “I’m enjoying watching you do your thing.”
Eliza threw an apron across the island. “Get your ass busy. I’m sure you know your way
around a knife.”
He put on the apron and took the knife. “I’m fantastic with pointy things.”
She stirred the vegetables and lowered the flame. “I don’t get the point of that joke.
Want to take another stab at it?”
He rolled his eyes. “You had to go there?”
“Would you expect anything less?”
“No, your sharp wit astounds me.”
“Ooohhh, check you out. You’re not just brawn. There’s a brain there too.” Eliza handed
him two pears. “Cut these for the cheese platter.”
“I could, but I’d rather do this.” He turned her to face him, put his hands on her face, and
leaned in for a kiss.
“Cameron-” she inclined her head away, “-the food will burn.”
He reached around her and turned the flame down to the lowest setting. “Problem
solved.”
Cameron picked her up and sat her on the island then stood between her legs. She
gasped when he slid his cold hand up her shirt and pressed her against him. His tongue
slid up the side of her neck and he whispered, “I want to make you forget everything but
us and this moment.”
“I wish you could.”
“I could if you’d let me.” Cameron hated having this same conversation. He struggled
with a lot these days, but his feelings for Eliza were certain and he needed her to
understand that.
“Right now, you need to focus on you. How are your bear and bird getting along these
days?” She slipped off and squeezed around him.
He grumbled, turned around, and rested his backside against the counter. “You sound
like my mom.”
Eliza brought the food back up to temp. “Your mom’s a smart woman. I like her a lot.”
Cameron hated the way people treated him with kid gloves. The one time he ignored
the park ranger’s advice, a wild bear attacked the camping excursion he led. High on
cockiness and a desperate need to feel useful, his life changed in an instant. The
tourists were unharmed, but he suffered a deep wound on his shoulder. After weeks ofdenial, the effects of the bear shifter’s bite forced Cam to address the new inner conflict.
Two strong predatory animals fighting for domination took its toll.
As Eliza stirred the various pans and tasted a sauce, Cameron watched her hips twist in
rhythm. Since meeting her, his bear grew stronger and needed more attention. The
strength of her bear demanded a challenge and he reciprocated at the cost of
appeasing his falcon.
“That smells incredible,” Cameron said.
Eliza spun around with a spoon for him to taste. The roasted garlic and tomatoes melted
in his mouth. How could this woman take ordinary ingredients and create heaven?
He closed his eyes, savoring the flavors. “That is fantastic. What’s in it?”
“A bit of everything, but I’m experimenting with flavored salts. This one comes from the
dehydrated herbs I made last week.”
“The chef we had here before had a hard time making anything taste good. It was like
eating at a school cafeteria.”
“Well, I’m still learning a lot.” She faced the stove.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Eliza avoided his eyes.
Cameron placed a hand under her chin, lifted her face, and kissed her forehand.
“Dismiss my compliments.”
“I didn’t realize I did that. It’s weird to listen to good things being said about you.”
“Why is it weird? You need to get used to it.” He grew hard holding her against him. Her
mouth stretched up and met his. His hands cupped her face as his tongue parted her
lips. The taste of onions and garlic made him hungrier for more than food.

 

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“What are you called? What’s your name?”
He opened his mouth, and she moved closer, eager for his first words. Instead, he focused on
her lips with obvious fascination. His intriguing eyes caught the light. Despite her
disappointment that he couldn’t speak, a rush went through her. Alien or not, he was the most
handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on, with the kind of ethereal elegance some upper-class,
privileged men on Earth spent fortunes on plastic surgery trying to achieve.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, or if you can’t. We’ll get there. Now, I’m going to check you.”
She kept her voice gentle, as she might use with a child. She pressed the button to disengage
the protective bubble over the med bed and shone the retinal scanner in her own eye to
demonstrate. “I just need to look at your eyes with this.” She motioned with the scope to him. “It
won’t hurt. I promise.”
Warm puffs of his breath blew on her neck as she leaned in. She paused, noting the remarkable
eight-pointed star-shape of his pupils. The mutation was his one physical difference, and only if
one looked closely. The pupils dilated when hit by the scope’s light. She’d never seen eyes as
remarkable.
“You’re doing great,” she soothed. Her head burst with countless questions.Where are you
from? How did you get here? What do you want?
He appeared to like the cadence of her voice. His posture relaxed, and his breath against her
was steady. How long had she been staring into his eyes? Should she push her luck and try to
examine his mouth?
Before she could try, his finger stroked her inner arm. He was still restrained at the wrists, but
he could reach her.
She allowed it. He stroked a featherlight finger along her forearm. As he did so, his gaze never
left hers. She offered a kind smile. “That’s right. Friend. Sakota. Sa-ko-ta.”
He opened his mouth and let out a chicken-like squawk. “-Ota,” he said in a throaty, deep voice.
She raised her eyebrows. “Good. Very good.”
He tilted his head, watching her lips. “Gooood.”
Excited, she lowered the retinal light. “Can you understand me?”
He looked confused. “Me…”
“Okay. That’s a no. Then let me take this opportunity to say, in no uncertain terms, you, my
friend, are the stuff of dreams and legends. I’ve waited my whole life for this. Are you getting
this, Alistair?” she called out.
He came in over the speakers. “I am. Amazing. I’ll get to work on a linguistics program. Our
friend seems to want to communicate.”
She moved to pull away, but the man’s fingers closed over her wrist.
“Let me go.” She jerked her arm, but he wouldn’t release his grip. She gave him a cautionary
look, and he loosened his fingers, though he still held her. Warning bells went off.What if he’s
not here in peace?But his eyes sparkled impishly. He seemed to enjoy her skin pressed against
his. Maybe he hadn’t been touched in a while. Or maybe he had a crush. Who knew.
Before she could extricate herself, the intercom chimed. “Sakota, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. He’s just being friendly—”
The man’s forefinger trailed along her arm again. She sucked in a breath and shut her eyes as a
series of images flashed through her mind.A high wall made of stacked stones. A hand spread
out to touch the tips of tall, golden wheat of a field. Multihued buildings in the distance under a
purple sky. Children’s laughter and then screams. She jerked when the images
changed.Strange rain, like metal. Black ships attacking from the sky, horrible screams which
rent the air, death.A gentle brush against her hand again. She inhaled and opened her eyes.
The man searched her, calm and patient. She struggled to see straight, but her mind spun.
“W-was that your—”
The isolation walls shot up. Rutledge burst into the room and advanced like an angry bear,
brutish, immaculate, and combat ready in his black Oceanstone fatigues. “Let her go,” he
snarled.
Rutledge yanked the man’s hand off her and pushed her aside. She fell to the floor on her back
in a dizzy haze, reeling from the vision. She turned her head. The man bellowed and tore loose
from his restraints. His and Rutledge’s images faded into one as they collided and fought.
Rutledge’s weapon whirred as he strained to activate it. The rifle propelled over her head and hitthe wall.
“Stop.” Her pleas fell on deaf ears. She closed her eyes.
The men barged into the room with heavy footfalls and angry shouts. She opened her eyes, but
her vision swirled. The blurred image of the alien lifted Rutledge’s lieutenant like a kitchen chair
and catapulted him in the same direction as the weapon. “Stop,” she hollered to the men. “Don’t
shoot him. He wasn’t attacking me.”
Another soldier fell to the floor with a sick thud, holding his stomach. “Yeah? Well, he’s
attackingme.”
The alien pounced over her, crouching low. He caged her with his body and made a guttural
rumble in his throat, a warning to the men. She turned her head to the marines, who zeroed
their weapons in on them.

 

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Deep in the woods of Washington, botanist Autumn Winters stumbles
onto a
field of the luridly colored fungi. Two of her fellow campers make
the mistake of touching it. Now it’s growing on them. Fleshy
gelatinous pods. Sprouting from their skin. Feeding on their blood . . .

Autumn watches in horror as her friends are transformed into
monstrosities—grotesque, human-fungal hybrids as contagious and
deadly as any virus. Autumn knows she must destroy these mutations
before they return to civilization. But if there’s one thing thatspreads faster than fear, it’s The Devil’s Fingers . . .

Chapter 1
Carrie’s screams rocketed Autumn’s heart into her throat. A crow big enough to carry a cat in its talons
leaped from its perch above their heads, screeching across the blue sky.
“Carrie!” she shouted.
Her friend had forged ahead to take pictures, her passion du jour of nature photography separating her
from the group. Autumn Winters had wondered where she’d gone. Now, she just hoped she wasn’t in a
ditch or hanging off a cliff.
Like that time in Mexico, she thought, the heavy pack on her back thumping the base of her spine with
each footfall.
“Over here,” Carrie called back, her voice coming from a copse of spruce trees to their left.
Latrell sped ahead of Autumn, letting his backpack slip from his shoulders so it wouldn’t hold him back.
Carrie’s longtime boyfriend, Dan Waverly, was right behind him. Autumn’s much shorter legs couldn’t
keep up with the former college athletes.
She followed their path, branches and weeds swaying from their passing. Veering from the official trail
worried Autumn, but nowhere near as much as Carrie’s peal of terror. The gradual uphill climb had
seemed so easy, the late spring air just cool enough to make it one of the more pleasant hikes she’d
been on. It was amazing how arduous and stifling things got the second they had to sprint like madmen,
thorny weeds scratching their legs.
The toe of her hiking boot caught on the underside of an immovable stone. Arms flailing, she twisted her
body so she wouldn’t fall on her face.
“Got ya!” Brandon barked as he grabbed hold of her backpack. He held on until she steadied herself. He
coughed up half a lung while she caught her breath.
There was no time to thank him. Carrie had grown frighteningly silent and there hadn’t been a peep out
of Latrell or Dan.
“Come on,” she said.
“I’ll catch up,” Brandon wheezed.
There were heavy footsteps behind him. He’d be okay.
Autumn weaved her way around the closely packed trees, careful not to clip her shoulders on the sturdy
trunks.“Where are you?” she shouted.
“Over here,” Latrell answered.
Honing in on her fiancé’s voice, she stumbled out of the tree line and into Dan’s wide back. She caught
an unwelcome whiff of sweat, her face smooshed into his moist shirt.
Regaining her balance—not that she had any to begin with—she stepped back, noticing that Carrie, Dan,
and Latrell were standing alongside one another, hands on their hips, staring at something she couldn’t
see thanks to being dwarfed by Dan’s massive shadow.
Latrell took her by the hand. “Look at this.”
Carrie sounded close to tears.
“Are…are they alive?”
Autumn looked across the meadow and fought a sudden wave of dizziness. As far as she could see, the
ground was littered with shattered white pods. Sprouting from each pod were thick, pink tentacles. It
was like looking at a sea of squid, the underside of each tentacle dotted with wet olive and black spots.
Interspersed within them were deathly pale limbs, four or more to a pod, looking too much like severed
baby arms for Autumn’s taste.
Autumn hated calamari.
She took a step toward the edge of the meadow. Latrell held her back.
“Don’t go near them.”
“Whatever the fuck they are,” Dan said, putting a protective arm around Carrie.
Crashing in the brush announced the arrival of Brandon, Tina, and Seth.
“That is wild AF. And I haven’t even smoked yet,” Brandon said, peering at the field as if his eyes were
deceiving him.
Autumn let go of Latrell’s hand, crouching close to the nearest cluster of skyward-reaching tentacles. It
was hard to believe that Autumn, the girl they all called Mighty Mite because her genetics refused to
allow her to pass the five-foot mark, was out macho-ing her alpha male of a fiancé. Then again, this was
kind of her specialty.
Or it would be in a couple more years.
“Jesus, don’t touch it!” Tina yelped.

Autumn turned to her friends, all of them looking as if they were standing on the precipice of untold
horrors. Latrell’s smooth, shaved head ran with rivulets of perspiration. Seth’s hand went to the
machete secured at his hip.
“It’s all right,” Autumn said.
“That does not look all right,” Carrie said, her hand on Dan’s chest.
A breeze whispered over the meadow, animating the tentacles as they swayed back and forth. Tina
yipped. Brandon pedaled backwards, falling on his ass.
The only thing worse than fried calamari was living calamari. Blinking hard, Autumn willed her mind to
just shut up and deal with what was in front of her.
You’re not at Nicky’s Fish Box or lost at sea, dummy.
Autumn reached into her pocket for the little baggie of nuts she’d packed for quick snacking. Dumping
the nuts on the ground, she inverted the bag over her hand.
She reached down, fingers grazing the papery flesh of the tentacle. She plucked it free from the pod. It
was almost as long as her forearm, yet weighed next to nothing.
“Don’t bring that thing near me,” Carrie said, cringing.
Latrell’s eyes grew wide. The wind changed direction, blowing Autumn’s long honey hair into her face.
Hands flew to mouths as everyone started choking, Tina making tiny retching sounds.
Uh-oh, Autumn thought. I should have known better.
The stench rolling off the meadow was impossible to ignore. It hijacked their lungs, nestled into the
membranes of their noses, coated their tongues.
A fetid redolence encompassed the campers, the presence of death too much for Autumn to handle.
Eyes watering, she dropped the tentacle, hands grasping her knees, stomach heaving.
“Oh my God,” Carrie gasped between gouts of vomit splashing her and Dan’s boots.
She was the first to pass out.
But not the last.

 

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Maryellen was born into a life, if given the chance, she would gladly give
away. Though she is probably one of the wealthiest people in the
country, Maryellen has never wanted her wealth. Nor her family who is
constantly trying to find ways to steal her wealth from her. After
being the sole heir to her grandfather’s fortune, everyone has been
out to get her ever since. After countless kidnapping attempts and
always being afraid to fall asleep, El is finally taking the step to
date someone and perhaps find true love.

But when she meets Ryan on a blind date, her world changes forever. She
is plunged into the world of the paranormal as Ryan reveals his true
identity; that he is the leader of the local Pride of Lions. And more
than that is the fact that Ryan knows El is her mate. And to make
matters more complicated, Ryan is part of a Triad of brothers.
Meaning, El has three mates. As El tries to comprehend this crazy new
life she is a part of, she can’t deny how right this all feels. She
now has the protection of shifters and three men who will love her
and keep her safe.

But, even after accepting her new life, she can’t let go of the past.
She will have to find the truth behind why she is always targeted and
come to understand that it’s not just for her money. She will have
to make tough decisions, but at least now she knows she will never be
alone again.

USA Today Bestselling Author Becca Fanning brings you a compelling

and
steamy Reverse Harem Shifter Romance!

 

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USA Today Bestselling Author Becca is interested in one thing: big alpha

male Shifters who know when to be tough and when to be sensitive. She
didn’t think there were enough of those, so she’s been writing about
them for the past three years! Her books are steamy with deep
characters, suspense and authentic relationships.

Most people hate first dates.
The truth was, Maryellen Forsythe-Drew, or El to her friends, hated them too. But on this
particular occasion, she had a gut feeling.
And that gut feeling was telling her that this date was going to be epic.
Sure, it wasn’t the first time the gut feeling had made an appearance, and had, ultimately, let her
down. Like the time she’d been certain she’d be allowed more leeway with her campaigns on
one of her charities when instead the head of project development had come on to her.
Filing for sexual harassment, and inadvertently getting the flexibility she’d wanted as a result,
wasn’t how she figured gut feelings should work, but…
“Wow, way to blow your good mood, El,” she grumbled under her breath as she took a seat at
the swanky restaurant where she’d arranged to meet with her blind date.
He wasn’t late. El was just insanely early. The need to get here, to get the ball rolling as it were,
had been driving her since they’d made the damn arrangements on Thursday.
The anticipation of waiting for Saturday had practically killed her. But she’d already had
arrangements with her parents on Friday night, and though she’d have loved to have skipped
that particular session in torture, the misery from breaking that date wasn’t worth it.
Even for a date that had more potential than any other she’d had this year.
She blew out a breath as the server appeared. It was a woman, and praying for female solidarity
instead of sisterly bitchiness, she asked, “Do I look flustered?”
The woman, a young blonde barely out of high school, blinked at her. “Ma’am?”
“I’m about to have a first date,” El explained, her stomach rumbling with more nerves. “I was just
hoping I don’t look as bright pink as I feel.”
The server, Diana from her badge, smiled at her. “No, you don’t look pink. You look quite cute.”
El blinked. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Diana grinned. “I bat for your team, so you can trust me when I say that.”
El’s mouth dropped open. Feeling more flustered now, her hands rose and fell several times on
her lap before they settled on digging into her upper thighs. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t
mean to impose.”
Could she have messed that up more royally?
Diana snorted. “Don’t be silly. I only mentioned it so you’d know when I say cute, I mean it. I can
tell, you’re very nervous though.”
“I am,” El confessed, and it felt weird to have a confessor who was at least ten years younger
than her, but damn, she’d take anything she could get. “I met him on that new dating site, Pride
in Love. My friends dared me to go on it and I thought it was just stupid, but then I met Ryan,
and…” She blew out a long breath.
“He’s like the whole package, you know?”
Diana’s smile was warm. “I’m glad. So why if he’s the ‘whole package’ are you nervous? You
should be excited!”
“Because I’m a dork, and I don’t want to screw things up,” El admitted. “I’m already here forty
minutes early…”
Diana blinked in surprise. “Wow! That’s definitely early. Can I get you something to drink or eat
to settle your nerves?”
“I don’t normally drink,” El confessed again. “But on this occasion, I’ll have a white wine spritzer.
Maybe that will calm me down. I really don’t want to mess this up.”
“Well, you look beautiful, and you’re nice and friendly, El. I don’t see why you should be any
different when Ryan comes by.”
Something about Diana’s words before she bustled off had El sitting up straighter. The server
was right.
She was a nice woman. Easy to talk to, friendly and caring. On the outside, she wasn’t bad to
look at. Her friends said she was beautiful but El knew they were just being kind—if she
dropped thirty pounds, she’d be beautiful.
As El’s mom often said, “You have such a pretty face, darling.” That wonderful compliment often
came when El arrived at the family home, dressed formally as her mother required, and always
feeling wanting in comparison to her stick thin sisters-in-law—a feeling her mother encouraged.
El shrugged off the thought because if she had her parents on her mind she’d never charm
Ryan.Even thinking about her family was enough to subdue her, and El knew that wasn’t the woman
Ryan had come to know.
Within the anonymity of the dating site, she’d allowed her natural vivacity to flow free when
they’d chatted, and she wanted Ryan to meet that side of her. The uninhibited woman who
could and would appear when she wasn’t being cowed by her mommy and daddy.
Irritation flared, and she embraced it. Embraced the heat because it burned that inner core of
cold that she’d created over the years as a defense mechanism.
Spying Diana coming with her drink, El took a look around the restaurant and smiled. It was a
fancy place, that was for sure.
Bright white, it should have been cold, but huge golden orbs were suspended from the ceiling in
different heights, creating a wave of sorts. The orbs were like miniature moons. All of them in
assorted sizes.
They swirled about the room, even appearing on the floor; in corners or over on the dancefloor
in the center of the restaurant, which was bordered by the bright orbs.
Tables were sectioned off for privacy with low frosted glass partitions, but the bright cerulean
blue tablecloths were a spark of color in the otherwise white restaurant. Even the waitstaff wore
all white.
She looked at the doorway where the maître d’ stood. The woman was tall, close to six feet, and
she was the only staff member that El could see who wore color—the same bright blue as the
tablecloths. Her white starched blouse was tucked into high waist trousers, and the result was a
tailored dream.
El wished like hell she had the figure to pull off something so simple, but she was way too round
for that.
A pear when she needed to be a ruler.
Feeling Diana’s approach, she was about to turn when she saw Ryan—immediately recognizing
him from his pictures online. He didn’t come from the front door, but from a back room behind
the maître d’. He stopped to talk to the woman, smiled at her as he bent over the stand, and
studied the plans
she kept on there.
Just as El was wondering whether Ryan managed the restaurant or something, he kissed the
maître d’s cheek.
Bile tried and failed to gurgle around her insides, but jealousy did. It hadn’t been a sexual kiss,
El tried to reason with herself.
Still, seeing it hurt.
The thought had her stiffening in her seat because she didn’t own the damn man.
It had been a kiss on the cheek, not an all-out make out session in the doorway. Friends kissed
friends, right? It could be perfectly natural. Innocent, she thought frantically.
Before the tension from her date kissing another woman could flood her, Diana appeared and
popped her drink down in front of her. The server must have seen where she was looking
because she half-turned and saw Ryan.
El frowned at Diana’s reaction—the other woman dropped her tray to her side and declared,
“You’re the Ryan?”
El flushed. “Excuse me?” Mortification succeeded in turning her bright pink. What the hell was
going on?
Ryan approached the table, and now he was nearer, and not kissing cheeks with beautiful
members of staff, she had to admit he was better looking in person.
God, talk about a total understatement. Better looking? That was like saying he was handsome.
Ryan was…
Well, handsome wasn’t the word.
He was a god.
That was it.
No other way of describing him.
Taller than the maître d’, she knew from his profile he was six-seven. But he wore it well. He
wasn’t thin and lean, but lithe and strong. His muscles were evident through his brutally tailored
navy suit. It clung in all the right places and displayed a soupcon of a white silk shirt that lay flat
against abs so
delineated, she could see them through the fabric. He wore no tie, but he had a little pocket

handkerchief… the lack of one and the presence of the other equalizing the semi-formal look.
His hair was a blond any woman would have killed for. So many shades of gold, her own hands
longed to touch the silky locks. He was tanned and bronze, and his eyes were a bright blue that
seemed to scan the situation with ease.
He had a strong Roman nose, a wide brow, lips made for kissing, and a jaw so hulking she
knew from looks alone how stubborn he was.
All in all, she felt totally underdressed and overwhelmed.
Who was this god and why had he elected to date her?
She gulped when he shot her a smile that made her melt. Just like that.
Jesus.
His nostrils flared a second, but before she could freak out over whether he could smell her
arousal—who could do that? No one, she desperately reassured herself—he turned to Diana
and wrapped an arm around her.
Wow, this guy was tactile.

 

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