Ashley Claudy
Publication date: November 19th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports

South Eastern University: Where the football players are royalty and Andrew Fayden is king.

College was supposed to be Brook’s chance to escape the rumors and the harassment that plagued her at home, but she hadn’t planned on meeting Andrew Fayden.

Now, she’s finding it hard to think of anything else or anyone else. She’s determined to wipe him from her mind though because he is the definition of unavailable. He’s got an on and off again girlfriend always on the sidelines and a flood of girls willing to take over that position.

And his popularity makes it hard to keep a low profile, something she needs to do if she doesn’t want to be pulled back into the drama of her past.

Despite all the warnings, she’s finding it hard to resist– and he’s making it hard to say no.

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The night blurs by in a haze of shots and keg stands, till I’m leaning against a wall for balance, waiting for Rose to get out of the bathroom so we can leave.

I almost don’t notice Andrew passing by since the crowds blend together, except he stands out. He notices me too. Those striking eyes land on me, reminding me of earlier in the night.

He separates from his group, and a girl pauses to follow him, but he sends her away with a gesture for her to go with the others. She does, but her face drops as he walks away. I know the feeling; I felt the same way when he left earlier. Bastard.

Except, now he’s in front of me, and I almost apologize for calling him a bastard, but thankfully I get a grip and don’t.

“You having fun?” He places his hand on the wall above my head and leans into me as he talks.

I pull my hands behind me, unsure how to move. Unsure how to talk. God, he smells so good, that cologne mixed with a hint of fire and summer. And his body’s so close, almost skimming mine.

My lack of response stretches his smile, and he leans in some more, his heat pressing on me.

“We’re about to leave.” I have to talk, I’m not sure I could survive him getting any closer. “Just waiting on Rose to get out of the bathroom. Then we’re leaving. I had fun though. How about you?” I pull my lips between my teeth, shutting myself up.

“You’re cute.” His head dips towards mine, but I still have to look up to meet his eyes. “Don’t go yet. Come with me first.” He drops his hand from the wall and slides it down my arm, grabbing my fingers.

Now I know I’m about to faint. “Wh-where?” I don’t take the step to follow him, even though there’s a part of me that wants to. A part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and let him lead me anywhere.

He turns towards me, his head dropping till his lips are at my ear, torturing me as his warm breath fans over my skin, and his lips brush against me as he talks. “Somewhere a little more private.”

My excitement drops, and I feel sick, planting my feet on the ground. “I don’t think I should.”

He pulls back, confusion in his gaze as he meets my eyes. “Why?”

“Because I’m not that naive. You only want one thing.” Oh God, I sound like my mom.

His shoulders shake and his dimples are back, lickable dimples. Oh, no, bad Brook, don’t look at those dimples.

He leans into me, and the wall is at my back again, keeping me from retreating. “Maybe not naïve, but unimaginative.” His eyes drop to my lips, the heat in them unmistakable as he licks his own. “I can think of a-hell-of-a lot more than one thing I want, starting with those lips.”

All words escape me as he lowers his head, any bit of air rung out when he brushes his lips over mine. Barely there, but his tongue sneaks out and teases a small gasp from my mouth.

He takes it for consent and slips his arm around me, pulling me with him. “Come on.”

“No.” I close my eyes, struggling to gather my focus. He made it ever so tempting to say yes, but past insults fill my head. “Slut” “Whore” I couldn’t stand for that to follow me here.

His arm drops from me, and the warmth of his body disappears as he steps away. He’s wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and it’s clear he’s accepted it. “Fine.”

Then he walks away, disappearing into the next room.

Hustle Teaser 3

Author Bio:

New Adult Author.

Outside The Ropes Series:
Outside The Ropes
Inside Danger
OtherSide Of Fear

Coming this fall: Hustle
"South Eastern University: Where the football players are royalty and Andrew Fayden is king."

Mother. Wife. Teacher. Proud UMD Terp. Perpetual learner. Wild imagination fueled by coffee. Occasional runner. Late night book junkie. Daytime dreamer.

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Jennifer Dawson
(Undone #2)
Publication date: November 17th 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I’ve wanted my brother’s best friend, Leo Santoro, for too many years to count.
No matter what I do, he won’t confront the attraction that burns between us.
It’s time to put him behind me once and for all.
I have no choice but to call his bluff.
And then I will walk away.

The last woman I should want is my best friend’s baby sister, Jillian Banks.
No matter what I do, she won’t ignore the attraction that burns between us.
It’s time she learns the real me.
The only promise I can make is that her fantasies are no match for reality.
And then I’ll watch her walk away.

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I make a very good show of hiding it, but the second Jillian walks through the door it’s like some sort of internal sonar is flipped on, sending out waves through the air.

It’s been that way since the moment I laid eyes on her all those years ago. I still remember with vivid clarity the first time I saw her, before I knew she was my best friend’s baby sister. Therefore permanently off limits.

I’d stood on stage, the bright Chicago sun glaring against my dark uniform as I graduated from the academy, my family beaming at me from the audience. My youngest of three sisters, Talia, waved frantically and I winked, attempting to remain serious and cop-like. Jillian was two rows back, her hair a dark cascade over her shoulders, a wide smile on her very fuckable lips as she laughed at something the person next to her said. She’d worn a sleeveless powder-blue dress that cut in a V down the slope of her breasts and clung to her tall, curvy frame. Everything about her was lush, strong and gorgeous.

My first thought was that she looked like the kind of girl I’d like to hurt.

In a good way, that would drive her crazy and make her come all over the place, but still a fucked-up thought by most people’s standards. I take my sex hard, rough and a bit cruel. I like to control and bend a woman to my will. I like her wanton and begging. Mad with uncontrollable, all-consuming lust, and there is just something about Jillian that calls to that dominant, slightly sadistic part of me like she’s crack.

young lovers kissing on the couch

Author Bio:

Jennifer Dawson grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and graduated from DePaul University with a degree in psychology. She met her husband at the public library while they were studying. To this day she still maintains she was NOT checking him out. Now, over twenty years later they’re married living in a suburb right outside of Chicago with two awesome kids and a crazy dog. Despite going through a light FM, poem writing phase in high school, Jennifer never grew up wanting to be a writer (she had more practical aspirations of being an international super spy). Then one day, suffering from boredom and disgruntled with a book she’d been reading, she decided to put pen to paper. The rest, as they say, is history. These days Jennifer can be found sitting behind her computer writing her next novel, chasing after her kids, keeping an ever watchful eye on her ever growing to-do list, and NOT checking out her husband.

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Rebel by Elle Casey 
(Rebel Wheels #1) 
Publication date: October 29th 2013
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance


NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY brings readers Book 1 of 3 in the New Adult Romance Series, REBEL WHEELS.

Teagan Cross, college senior, rebel, and wiseass extraordinaire, goes from princess to pauper in a single phone call. Overnight, her life of privilege becomes one of survival, and no matter where she turns, it seems like the world is out to get her. She’s not going to fall apart, though. She’s a rebel and she’s strong … determined to live life on her own terms … and nothing’s going to stop her from getting things done and making things right. But when a twist of fate brings her to the doorstep of a different kind of Rebel, she’s forced to figure out when something’s worth fighting for and when something’s worth letting go.

Content Warning: Contains sexy adult situations, creative foul language, and some mild violence. May not be appropriate for younger readers.

Rebel (Rebel Wheels Book 1)

by Elle Casey

Chapter 1

My name’s Teagan.  I know, I know … the name.  Twenty-two years ago, my mother thought a Welsh name for her only child would be beautiful.  Teagan means pretty, so it should have fit perfectly.  Who has an ugly baby, right?  I guess I did okay in the looks department.  I’m not too short, not too tall.  Eating chips and gummy bears every day has no effect on my somewhat athletic frame, and I’ve been told my green eyes compliment my pale complexion.  The problem with the name Teagan is my mom never considered the creative names kids would morph it into.

“Yo, Teabag, what’s up?”

I flip Perry Spitler off, but he just laughs as he passes on by.

He and I have an understanding; when we see each other on campus, he insults me, I flip him off, and we never actually talk.  It suits us both just fine.  Making out with him and then ralphing on his shoes in freshman year was one of the best moves I’ve ever made in my climb up the social ladder at UCLA.

“Why do you even talk to that douche canoe?” asks my friend Quin as she brushes out her long, black hair.  Quinlan is her real name, but she refuses to answer to it.  We both have a thing with names, which is only one of the many reasons we get along so well.  “I hear he puts toy cars in dark places on weekends.”  She puts away her brush and takes a bite of an energy bar, chewing it like a cow and waiting for my reaction.

I’m both intrigued and disgusted.  “And by toy cars and dark places we mean…”  I twist my longish, wavy brown hair up into a bun and stick a pencil in it to keep it from falling to my shoulders again.  It’s frigging hot out here in the student union today.  Dry heat, my butt.

“Literally.  Like that movie Jackass.  He put a toy car in his asshole at a party the other night.”

I snort in disbelief and disgust. “He did not.”

Quin puts up her hand like a girl scout.  “Swear.  Guy’s an asscar driver.”

I’m really happy I barfed on him now.  Really, really happy.  The kiss we shared?  Well, we’ll just tally that up to a serious lapse in judgment on my part.  In my defense, there were copious amounts of beer involved.

I can’t help but stare at his butt as he goes by.  “Remind me not to accept any rides from him in the future.”

We collapse in immature giggles that have Perry turning around and frowning.  Watching his face and imagining that I can see he’s walking with a slight limp only makes it worse.  By the time I can see clearly again, he’s gone.

“Man, I totally needed that.”  I can feel the good mood drugs floating around in my brain. Now the upcoming Summer of Doom doesn’t seem quite so bleak.

“You ready for summer break?” Quin asks, crumpling up the wrapper to her energy bar and throwing it on the ground.

I lean down and pick it up, sighing as I stick it in my bag.  This is her thing.  This is my thing.  This is how we roll, with her being a pain in the ass and me picking up after her.  “No.  I’m not ready.  I want to stay here and hang out with you and all the cool people.”

“No, you don’t.  Do you know how hot it gets here in the summer?  Ugh.”  She brushes crumbs off her lap.  “I am going to literally cook in my own skin, like a poached egg.”

“You forget, I’ve lived here for almost four years now, and No Cal isn’t that different.”

“But you always leave in the summer, and No Cal is different, so that doesn’t count.  By the time you get back this September for your very last semester - by the way, you completely suck for graduating before me - all the poaching will be done.”

“You should come with me.  Silicon Valley’s got a drier heat than LA.”  I’m lying, but she’ll never know.

She faces me, not smiling.  That’s a rare expression for her, as Quin-grins come frequently and often without provocation.  We’re not much alike in that way; my smiles are rationed for only truly happy moments.

“You should invite me, and maybe I would,” she says.

“I always invite you.”

“No, you don’t.  You just say, ‘You should come.’  That’s not the same thing.”

“What do you want, an engraved invitation?” A tiny spark of hope glimmers in my chest.  Summer would only suck half as much if Quin were with me back at my father’s place.

“Yes.  That would work.”  She sniffs and looks off into the distance.

“I’ll seriously do it, if that’s what it would take to finally get you up there.”

“No, don’t bother.  I can’t go.”

“Why?  Because LA’s social scene would never survive without you?”

“No.”  She stands, brushing off her legs.  “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?  My classes were all done as of twenty minutes ago.”

“I have an appointment with a milkshake over at McDonald’s House of Horrors.  Come on.  Your treat.”

We begin the long walk across campus.  “I’ll pay for your ticket,” I say, testing the waters.  I don’t know why I bother, though.

“Nope.  I pay my own way.”

“Do you have the money?”

“No.  You know I’m broke.”  Quin is always broke.  She lives off the kindness of others and a scholarship.  I’m not even sure what the scholarship is for.  Do they give scholarships for being a smartass?  Because if they do, she qualifies for a full ride.

“Then let me pay,” I say.


“You can pay me back.”


I try a different tack.  “It’s because you don’t like me, I know.  Admit it.”

“No, that’s not it, and if you try and guilt me into doing it, we won’t be friends anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Yes, it is, but still … I won’t let you pay.”

I give her my puppy dog eyes.  “I’m going to be desperately lonely.”

“No, you won’t be.  You’ll have a bodyguard babysitter.”

I sigh.  “They always suck.”

“That last one didn’t.”

“The last one was like forty years old!”

“So?  What do you want to do?  Fuck them or just have them take a bullet for you?”

“Can’t I do both?”

We laugh, knowing I’m full of crap.  I actually liked the last guy assigned to babysit me, the guy being paid to assuage my father’s paranoia.  He actually believes there are people in silicon valley trolling the neighborhoods for executives’ kids, since according to him they’d make really excellent kidnapping targets.

Jim was the name of my last babysitter.  Maybe I’ll get him again and we can play chess all summer like we did last year.  I’ve never slept with one of my dad’s employees.  They’re always married, ugly, old, or a trifecta of all three.  Besides, my dad would kill us both if I did something that stupid.  We don’t fraternize with the help.

That’s what my uber arrogant step-mother says, anyway, although I’m not so sure she hasn’t put that rule to the side from time to time with the pool boy.  Seriously … I’m not kidding.  The pool boy.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Quin asks me.  “I.O.U. for your thoughts.”

“I’m thinking how much I hate The Heinous One for being such a bag of dicks.”

Quin smiles.  “I’m really looking forward to meeting your step-mother at graduation, you know that?  I’m totally going to call her that to her face.”

I smile back.  “Me too.  Some day.”  When I find a way to support myself and don’t have to worry about my father cutting me off.



Elle Casey is a prolific, NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and several furry friends. She writes in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

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