Wednesday 13 April 2016

Release Day Spotlight: Love, Alabama by Susan Sands



Love, Alabama
Alabama #2
By: Susan Sands
Releasing April 13, 2016
Tule Publishing Group


Love, Alabama

Alabama Series

Emma Laroux's a fallen Southern beauty queen whose past is barely whispered about in her small town. But the secrets and lies surrounding the scandal from long ago still haunt her, and something about Matthew Pope holds the answers. If only she could put her finger on it…
Matthew Pope wonders what awful karmic thing he’d done to land him in Podunk, Alabama. But when he sees Emma again after all this time, he knows he's still the only one that holds the key to unlock the truth of her past...
Will a shared moment in time ten years ago threaten what might be the best thing that’s ever happen to either of them—each other?



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Her Florence Nightingale instincts warred with minding her own business. Matthew hadn’t asked for help. Maybe he was just fine. But he didn’t have any friends in town that she knew of. Nor was he the type of guy who was likely to reach out even if he was sick and needed assistance—at least that was the impression she’d gotten so far.
Emma sighed. She couldn’t very well leave him in the same condition as her sister without any saltines or electrolytes, now could she? She certainly couldn’t and feel good about it. Emma just then realized she’d already been driving her car toward his house. She hadn’t needed directions. Everyone in town knew where the new hot, single stranger in town had moved in. Emma was surprised he hadn’t already been the recipient of drive-bys of home-baked goods and casseroles tagged with names and phone numbers of female singles in the area.
Southern women understood the path to a lonely man’s heart might well begin with his taste buds. A good casserole and pecan pie couldn’t hurt as an introduction. Big hair and a sweet smile when they came to pick up momma’s favorite platter worked as a fine follow-up.
Emma had seen the success of this maneuver many times. Men came around on business of one type or the other—buying an selling mineral rights for oilfield companies or what have you–and found themselves completely leg-shackled before they knew what hit them. Mommas around here taught their girls how to spot and hook a promising catch from the time they were in training bras and learned that more eyeliner and mascara was better than less.
Emma pulled up behind Matthew’s car and frowned, noticing that his taillight was busted. She got out and pulled the bag of items from the back seat, not giving his car much more thought.
Knocking gently on the door, she figured she would leave the bag on the front step if he didn’t answer. He might be sleeping. But what if he’d gotten light-headed, fallen, and hit his head on the bathtub and was knocked-out cold, lying in a pool of his own blood? The thought, while mildly ridiculous, gave her just enough pause to knock again, this time more loudly.
No answer.
She rang the bell.
No answer.
Now she was concerned. His car was in the drive. He was definitely home. Her heart began to beat in her ears.
She tried the door.
Locked. She looked through the leaded glass front door. No movement. Nice house.
She knocked again.
Emma still had the bag in her arm. So, she carried it with her around the back of the house to the screened in porch. The screen door was open, so she stepped up onto the pretty porch with the comfy furniture. It appeared that Matthew spent time out here. There were pillows, a rug, a throw, a couple books, and a lamp. Nice.
She knocked on the back door. No answer. She didn’t see anyone inside.
She bit her lip and tried the door. It opened. “Hello? Matthew?”
No answer. She moved inside and let her gaze wander around the room. It was cozy and well decorated for a guy’s place. She noticed the kitchen to the right and headed in that direction. She put her bag on the kitchen counter then headed toward what she knew must be the master bedroom. This house was similar in style to hers.
She called out to him again. Emma was getting worried now. Why didn’t he answer?
As she entered the bedroom, she noticed it the blinds were closed and it was rather dark, but she could see no one was in the bed. Then, she realized the shower was running. Against any kind of decent judgment, she moved toward the bathroom door. She couldn’t help herself; she peeked inside. He wasn’t standing in the shower; he was sitting on the floor. She panicked and rushed towards him before her brain informed her to actually speak his name.
She pulled open the door, certain he was dead before she shrieked, “Matthew, open your damned eyes!”
He did. Open his damned eyes. Opened them really wide. “Emma? Why are you in my shower stall?”
She really didn’t have a great answer to that. “Oh, Lord. I thought you were dead.” It was the best she could do.
He did look nearly dead. He smiled weakly. “I’ve been really sick, so I thought I’d sit here for a little while. But I’m not dead. So, um, could you hand me a towel? Unless, of course, you prefer a shower?”
Emma then became acutely aware of her position. And his. He was naked. Oh, Lord, was he naked. The most delicious naked she’d ever seen. And now she couldn’t stop staring at his naked. And apparently his naked knew it now. Because it was staring straight up at her, too.
Emma—a towel? Because I’m a little more inclined to invite you into my shower now.”
She raised her eyes beyond his naked to his eyes, horrified. “Uh, a towel. Sure.” Looking around, she grabbed the closest towel she could find, the one hanging on a hook beside the shower. “I thought you were dead,” she said again, as an explanation.

She was a complete idiot. And now she wanted to jump his sick bones.

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Susan Sands grew up in a small Northwest Louisiana town, where the seeds for future stories were inspired. Her lifelong love of reading motivated her to finally begin writing as her midlife crisis at age forty—better than a boyfriend or red sports car, according to her husband.
Susan lives with her dentist husband and three nearly-grown children in Johns Creek, GA.

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It started out like any other morning on the train.

Until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle.

He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world.

Who did the stuck-up suit think he was…God?

Actually, he looked like a God. That was about it.

When his stop came, he got up suddenly and left. So suddenly, he dropped his phone on the way out.

I might have picked it up.

I might have gone through all of his photos and called some of the numbers.

I might have held onto the mystery man’s phone for days—until I finally conjured up the courage to return it.

When I traipsed my ass across town to his fancy company, he refused to see me.

So, I left the phone on the empty desk outside the arrogant jerk’s office.

I might have also left behind a dirty picture on it first though.

I didn’t expect him to text back.

I didn’t expect our exchanges to be hot as hell.

I didn’t expect to fall for him—all before we even met.

The two of us couldn’t have been any more different.

Yet, you know what they say about opposites.

When we finally came face to face, we found out opposites sometimes do more than attract—we consumed each other.

Nothing could have prepared me for the ride he took me on. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for where I’d wind up when the ride was over.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.



Outside of the restaurant, Graham’s black car was already curbside. He must have had it waiting and called the driver when I went to the restroom.
If you’re not going to come home with me, I insist on at least giving you a ride home to your place.”
The subway is right around the corner. I’m good.”
He shot me an annoyed glance. “Give a little, Soraya. It’s a ride home, not a ride on my cock. And I think you know by now that I’m not a serial killer.”
You’re so crass.”
He put his hand on the small of my back and steered me to the waiting open car door. I didn’t put up a fight. Graham was right, I was being stubborn while he had pretty much agreed to anything I demanded. Something told me it was a rare occasion when the man was this flexible.
When we arrived at my apartment, Graham walked me to the door.
When will I see you again?”
Well, tomorrow is Saturday, so I suppose maybe Monday on the train.”
Have dinner with me again tomorrow?”
I have plans.”
His jaw flexed. “With whom?”
We embarked into a lengthy stare off. His gaze was hard. When neither of us gave for a few minutes, he grumbled Christ under his breath, and before I realized what was happening, my back was against the door, and his mouth was on mine.
He kissed me as if he wanted to eat me alive. Before releasing my mouth, he took my lower lip between his teeth and tugged. Hard. With his lips vibrating up against mine, he spoke. “Don’t push me to my limit, Soraya.”
Why? What will happen?”
I’ll push back. And I’m trying not to do that with you.”
He was being honest, and I realized I should appreciate that. “To my sister’s house. It’s my niece’s birthday party. That’s where I’m going tomorrow night.
He nodded. “Thank you.”
It took every bit of my willpower to go inside and shut the door behind me. I leaned my back against the door, unable to remember the last time I was so hot and bothered. Maybe not ever. His mouth was sinful; the thought of what he could do with that wicked tongue other places on my body kept me in a state of arousal that bordered on frenzied. But it was more than that. The way he was so dominating and controlling, yet exercised restraint to respect my wishes, was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. The man stimulated something that had been sleeping inside of me. I needed a glass of wine and an orgasm. Not necessarily in that order. If I was going be firm on my stance that we get to know each other and not have sex, then taking things into my own hands was absolutely essential.
In my bedroom, I stripped out of my clothes. I didn’t sleep naked every night, but tonight was definitely a bare evening. As I slipped into bed, my cell rang.
Is phone sex on the table?” Graham’s voice was a needy rasp. Whatever cooling off my body had done since I left him on the other side of the door was instantly reheated. His voice could definitely speed things up for me. But…
Sex is off the table. That should probably include all types of sex. Intercourse, oral, phone.”
He groaned. “Oral. God, I want to taste you. And feel that metal tongue ring on my cock. You have no idea how difficult it was to control myself tonight every time I caught a glimpse of that metal when you spoke. It’s like you’re taunting me with every word. What are you wearing, Soraya?”
That voice. I needed to record him saying What are you wearing, Soraya? So I could play it over and over again in a loop when I needed to satisfy my own needs. “I’m actually not wearing anything. I just got undressed and slipped into bed.”
You sleep naked?”
Sometimes.”
He actually growled. “Touch yourself.”
I plan to. But I think I’m going to need both hands tonight. So I’m going to hang up first.”
How long do you plan on driving me crazy, Soraya?”
Good night, Graham.” I hung up without waiting for him to respond. Even though my body physically ached for the man, I wasn’t ready to open that door with him just yet. Although as I glided my hand down my body alone in my bed, the only thing I could think of was God, I wish it was his hand.


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Other books from Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Cocky Bastard



Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Penelope lives for reading books in the new adult/contemporary romance genre, coffee and hanging out with her friends and family on weekends. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 9-year-old boy, both of whom are the lights of her life. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island. She is the author of RoomHate, which hit #2 on the New York Times Bestseller list and #1 on the Wall Street Journal Bestseller list. Her novel, Stepbrother Dearest, also spent four consecutive weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list. Other works include the New York Times bestseller Cocky Bastard (co-written with Vi Keeland), Sins of Sevin, My Skylar, Jake Undone, Jake Understood and Gemini.







Other books from Penelope Ward

RoomHate


Sins of Sevin

Stepbrother Dearest

Gemini

Jake Undone (Jake #1)

My Skylar

Jake Understood (Jake #2)


Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Bestselling author. Over the last three years, ten of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and three on the New York Times Bestseller lists.




Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)
Beat

Throb
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1zk882K


MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)
Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1alpVES
Smashwords - http://bit.ly/1is0zNX

Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)


The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

Standalone novels
The Baller


Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

First Thing I See
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1JWFo21