Friday, January 31, 2014

Book Blitz - Mobster's Angel by Amy Rachiele

Vito has grown up in the underworld of the mob. He has recently reached age eighteen. His family has been involved since the thirties. In 2014, the rules haven’t changed much. What worked then, works now; power, violence, and loyalty.

Love isn’t something you can control. As much as Vito, mobster enforcer, wish he could, he can’t. And falling in love with someone who is close to jailbait age is even tougher. Vito bides his time and waits. For a hasty guy with limited self-control, it’s difficult to curb his impulses.

At age fifteen, Erin just wants to forget. Erin’s world came crashing down when she learned her family was not what they seemed. She’s been living in a lie. No one told her her family was mob. The cliché ignorance is bliss becomes a sharp stabbing realization when she has to learn to cope with the aftermath.

Being smart doesn’t save you from terror and doesn’t teach you how to live with it. You can’t escape the mob. It’s part of your existence!

TAGS: New Adult - Romance/Action Adventure/ Family Saga/Anti-hero/Mobster/Mafia/Alpha-Male/Alternate POV

“Sometimes I hear him whispering in my ear as if my conscience has grown and matured into a six foot three dark haired male. The studying, reading, and listening I did to impress adults are nothing compared to what I learned from Vito.”

~ Erin

Meet the Author:
Amy Rachiele is a military spouse and brat who spent many years volunteering and on staff for the Army National Guard and Department of Veteran Affairs with family support, family readiness, as well as, families of the Fallen. Amy devoted 10 years to teaching at-risk students in the Providence School System. She holds a Master's degree from Rhode Island College in English and Secondary Education. She volunteers her time at the local library facilitating a writer’s group in the hope of inspiring other writers. Besides writing, she enjoys scrapbooking, sewing, and traveling. Amy lives in Massachusetts with her son and husband.




Vito’s Senior Year at Palmetto High School, New Jersey

I jump people in alleys for fun.
I say shit I don’t mean.
Yeah, I’m an asshole…always been one, always will be.
The way I grew up, nice got you fuckin’ nothin’ but stepped on. The mob life is brutal; a hazy, volatile run of survival. I don’t like it, but I’m proud of my heritage and my friends.
One thing I admire is the loyalty in the Mafia. I come from a long line of mobsters. The Rossi’s have been here in New Jersey since the thirties, tommy guns, and zoot suits.
My Pop has been gone on business for the Palmetto Mob Boss for over a year now. His loyalty is unwavering. Mom and I see him on holidays, and he calls a lot. It’s not the same as having him here.
But Pop being away isn’t what’s wrong with me.
Erin, this kid - I can’t get her out of my head. Well, I guess she’s not a kid. No… no… she’s a kid. She’s fourteen… I’m seventeen.
Holy shit! I could go to jail. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time - and she’d be worth it.  I wouldn’t have even found out she was that young if I hadn’t overheard her sister, Megan, telling my best friend, Antonio.
Ugh, shit!
It’s not so bad if she’s turning fifteen like - tomorrow.
I’m trying, I really am. I just have to keep repeating to myself, she’s a freshman, you’re a senior. She has three more years of high school left; I’m going to college next year. Well, I will if I get my head out of my ass.
Every time I see her, she seems to be having the time of her life. She thrives on laughter and fun. Her happiness is contagious. That’s probably why everyone likes her. Erin is way more outgoing than Megan.
She’s smart like her sister. I bet she’ll get an early acceptance to the college of her choice, too.
What would she want with a stupid ass like me?
That damn red hair! And that slim little body. I know that this has to have something to do with Antonio going out with Red…I mean Megan. Yeah, that’s definitely what it is. The hair. The O’Neill girls are different... Irish, not Italian. Forbidden.
Antonio’s father, the Mob Boss of Palmetto, New Jersey, warned all of us years ago to stay away from Megan. But Antonio Rinaldo Delisi, Sr. never mentioned Megan’s little sister, Erin. He probably figured she was too young to be of interest to us.
I heard some chooches talking about her after school the other day while I was walking down the hallway near the science wing.  Typical guy shit. But I wanted to slam their faces into the lockers. I had it all planned out in my head. I was going to take each of them by the scruff of the neck, one by one, and SMASH. I’m familiar with the sound of flesh hitting metal. Then I would’ve taken them into the fuckin’ bathroom and washed their mouths out with anti-bacterial soap. But I held back…
And that shows that I’ve been paying way too much attention to someone that doesn’t even know I’m alive. I’m a chooch when it comes to getting attention. I just act like the asshole I am.
Like the time I hit on her sister in church. And did I mention that Erin didn’t even look my way? That was just me being stupid. I do stupid shit all the time because I don’t think, I just do. It’s an important motto in the Mafia. Thinking can be very bad for your health. No one wants cement shoes and lungs full of water.
She’s got a boyfriend. I’ve seen him. He’s a scrawny little guy. His mother picked Erin up from school one day: I saw the mini-van pull up. The door slid open and she hopped in. Her face said it all; she was happy and excited to see her pansy little boyfriend.
The guy is in the same grade as her, but he goes to another school. Lucky for him…he doesn’t have to see her every day. That is, if that pansy kid could really be as attracted to her as I am. And it’s good because if he were around, I’d consider beating him up every once in a while just for shits and giggles.
Like a chooch, I’m on high alert, constantly looking for her in the hallways. I know every class she’s in. I’ve actually cut a few classes to wait outside her classroom like a stalker.
This cannot be normal. I know its not. Maybe I need a shrink. Some intense therapy might beat it out of me.
That’s it! A good beating!

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Thursday, January 30, 2014

Book Blitz - A Beautiful Mess by TK Leigh

What happens when you lose everyone that promised they would always be there for you? How can you protect the few pieces of your shattered heart that remain?
Olivia Adler is a woman with a troubled past. After losing her parents at the young age of six and being raised by an uncle who she lost years later, she refuses to get attached to anyone, including friends. For the past decade, she has been able to remain unattached to any man, too worried about losing someone to get too close. Until Alexander Burnham walks into her life one night and changes everything. But he has issues of his own. And he’s keeping a secret that could change everything. Will Olivia let Alexander in enough for him to get close and protect her from a force threatening her very existence, or will she push him away, scared of letting Alexander in, in order to protect her heart?
A Beautiful Mess is the first installment of a three part series sure to captivate the heart with a story of secrets, courage, and love.
Meet the Author:
T. K. Leigh, otherwise known as Tracy Leigh Kellam, is a producer / attorney by trade. Born and raised in New England, she now lives in Southern California with her husband, dog and three cats, all of which she has rescued (including the husband). When she’s not planted in front of her computer, writing away, she can be found running and training for her next marathon (of which she’s run over 15 fulls and too many halfs to count), or trying to convince her husband that it’s time to give yoga another try. Unlike Olivia, the main character from her debut novel, "A Beautiful Mess," she has yet to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

Book Trailer:

A Beautiful Mess from T.K. Leigh on Vimeo.
Excerpt #4:
           Olivia eyed Alexander as she tasted the delicious wine. “So, Antonio seems excited that you’re here with me. Any reason for that?”
        Alexander placed his wine glass on the table and grabbed Olivia’s hand. “To be honest, it seems we have a little something in common, Miss Adler. I don’t really do the relationship thing either. I like to fuck and leave all those emotional attachments out of it. I’ve certainly never taken a woman out like this before, apart from the obligatory charity functions I am expected to be at.”
        Olivia looked down, not wanting to hear what he was going to say next. She actually enjoyed spending time with Alexander and for once wanted more than just an occasional hook-up, but it sounded as though that was all he was interested in. But why the Red Sox game? Why the wine and dine? And why didn’t he make his move at Beer Works when Olivia made it rather clear that she wanted him to kiss her?
        Alexander continued speaking, breaking her away from her growing unsettled emotions. “But, there’s just something about you, Olivia. You make me want to break all my rules. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m beginning to not care.”
        Butterflies erupted in Olivia’s stomach at his words. She felt the same way. Looking up, she smiled as she met Alexander’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean that I still don’t want to fuck you senseless, Miss Adler,” he winked as the waiter arrived to take their order, leaving Olivia completely shocked.
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Cover Reveal - Beautiful Failure by Mariah Cole

BeautifulFailure_Revised_CVR_LRG (1)
If you're looking for a heartwarming story about a girl who falls deeply in love with a troubled boy who changes her life--a sob story with pretty metaphors and a million ways that'll tell you how "broken" she is, STOP. Don't read another word of this.
I'm not that type of girl.
My name is Emerald Anderson and I'm not going to bullshit you: I flunked out of college after my sophomore year, I've been fired from every job I've ever taken, and I've never had a fully functioning relationship in my life.
I wish I could say that I had a cheerleader in my corner, someone who says, "No, Emerald--You're great and you are good at something!" but I don't. My grandparents are completely oblivious to my life, and my mother's dying words to me were "You're going to end up just like me one day. A beautiful nothing."
She was right.
As I decide to start my life over and take two jobs that will forever change me--one from the inside, and one from the outside, I keep my mother's words close to my heart so I can keep the sexy and mysterious Carter Black away.
He's the first man who's ever pursued me, the first man who seems bent on finding out why I am the way I am, but he's wasting his time.
I'm not broken. I don't need to be fixed. I'm perfectly fine being a beautiful failure...
Buy Now
BeautifulFailure_Revised_CVR_LRG (1)
My mother was a whore. Her name was Leah Isabelle Anderson—“Leah Belle” for short, and she was one of New Jersey’s most sought after escorts. With deep green eyes that could take any man’s breath away, and skin so porcelain and smooth that it looked too perfect to touch, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Often compared to a supermodel, her raven black hair fell past her shoulders, and her naturally long eyelashes were always coifed to perfection. Growing up, I had no idea what she did with the men who picked her up in their shiny and expensive cars—the men who wore thousand dollar suits and patted me on the head while saying, “Your mom is really something special.” In a way, these strangers became the closest thing I had to a family since I never knew my father: Her regulars, Christian and William, sent me gifts every Christmas. Arnie bought me my first bike, Steve taught me how to change a tire, and her most ruthless suitor—Vincent, took me shopping for designer clothes once a month. Leah Belle—she never ever let me call her “mom,” wasn’t exactly a mother to me; she was more like an older friend. An older ‘I’ll-be-there-when-it’s-convenient’ friend. She missed every elementary school play, every middle school writing competition, and never gave a damn about my grades. At first, the involuntary loneliness bothered me, but after I created an army of invisible friends and easily accessible fantasies, I came to terms with her neglect and happily accepted any attention she was willing to give me. When I became a teenager, she started to hang around me more often—promising that she would do better, promising that she would make sure that “from here on out, [we’d] be best friends.” Since she’d run away from her parents after having me at sixteen, she made a point to never lecture or discipline me. She did however, teach me three very important lessons: 1.) “Always put tons of effort into the way you look. You need to be beautiful on the outside, no matter how fucked up you are on the inside. If you ever feel sad or depressed, suck that shit up and add more mascara.” 2.) “Don’t make friends. Make sponsors. If you can’t get anything out of someone or use them for a specific purpose, kick that person out of your life ASAP.” 3.) “Beauty wins over brains every time. Your body will always be your most important asset. Remember that.” For my fourteenth birthday, she poured me my first shot and offered me a short line of coke, saying, “Welcome to life, Em!” I shook my head at the coke—I’d read about the effects, but I happily took the red shot glass from her hand. “To the best fuckin’ daughter in the world!” She lifted her glass in the air, waiting for me to do the same, and then she ordered me to toss it back. The initial burning sensation was painful—disgusting, but in the years to come, that bitterness tasted better and better, and I looked forward to the two of us drinking together. It was the only time that she gave me her undivided attention. In those moments, I would tell her about another writing competition I’d won or how I’d received more early college scholarships. When it was her turn, she would tell me about “turning tricks” like other parents told their kids about a day at the office. “I can’t tell you how weak Ben’s dick was today,” she’d say. “I mean, I feel like I should be charging him double for the weak ass fucks he puts me through.” “You don’t enjoy it with him? Ever?” I’d ask. “No. Never with him. But he’s a sponsor, I’m getting his money, and that’s all that matters. I just lie there, scratch his back, and say ‘HarderHarder’ to make him think I’m into it until—” “Until he cums?” “Yep.” She’d pass me a cigarette before sighing. “With him and a few others, I usually have to take a few shots beforehand to numb my mind. With the really good ones, all I have to do is relax. Sex can be fucking incredible when it’s done right…” One particular Friday, after she let one of her regulars take me shopping for a Chanel bag, I unlocked the door to our home and saw droplets of blood all over the floor. “Leah?” I set my shopping bag down. “Did you get another nose bleed?” No answer. I headed into the kitchen, looking for her usual remedies—hot tea and Q tips, but she wasn’t there. “You here?” I walked around our living room and checked all the rooms upstairs. Confused, I pulled out my cell phone and called her. No answer again. I shrugged and opened a bottle of vodka, tossing back a few shots. I figured she’d left with one of her sponsors for a quickie and would be back by the time our favorite show started. I decided to take a shower before it came on and headed into the downstairs bathroom. The second I hit the lights, my heart fell out of my chest. I wanted to believe that what I was seeing was simply a sick joke by my imagination—a twisted fantasy I’d snap out of in seconds. Pale and blue, Leah’s body lay lifeless in our tub. Her left arm was dangling over the edge, and the small velvet bag where she kept her cocaine was dangling from her fingertips. Scattered across the floor were hundreds of prescription pills and empty orange bottles that bore the names of strangers. On the vanity, there was an empty syringe and a folded note that read “For my Em…” Trembling, I rushed to her side and pressed my finger against her neck, hoping for a pulse. Nothing. I tilted her head back and tried to breathe life into her—pressing her chest with my hands every few seconds, but it was no use. She was gone. I sank down to the floor in tears—cursing her, hating her, for doing this to me. To us. I had no friends to call, no family either, so in my numb and dazed state I somehow managed to call 9-1-1. While the operator attempted to calm me down by asking me to take deep breaths, I walked over to the vanity and unfolded Leah’s last note:
I know you’re confused right now, but I want you to know that I love you. I love you so fucking much… You were the only thing that made my life worth living, and I wish I was strong enough to keep that in mind…
I’m not.
I’m tired of living a lie and I haven’t been happy in a very long time… I just can’t take it anymore…
I’ve fucked up a lot of things in my life, but the biggest regret I have is the way I raised you…I’m so sorry… This is going to be hard for you to believe—especially since I’m gone, but I need you to forget all that shit I taught you. Right now.
Fuck using your looks to get what you want. Go to college and do some good shit with your life, like write or something. You’re a good writer, you’re very smart, and you need to use your brain to get ahead. Can you promise to do that for me, Em?
Then again…It’s probably too late and I’m willing to bet that you’ll end up just like me: A beautiful nothing…
It won’t be your fault though. It’ll be—
I stopped reading and flushed that note down the toilet. Her last words were clearly written out of sadness and they were only compounding my pain. As far as I was concerned, Leah had raised me the best she could and she was far from a “beautiful nothing” in my eyes. In fact, I cherished every single thing she’d taught me. Even though I was beyond hurt that she’d selfishly left me all alone, I was determined to remember her at her best and for everything she was to me: My mother. My best friend. My role model.  
bf collage 1 20 to go
Mariah Cole is a Starbucks addict (hazelnut shots, please!), New Adult author, and an incessant daydreamer. Known for pushing the envelope, she's an avid reader of indie books and is always looking to chat with readers and authors alike.
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Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Review Blitz - Goodbye Girl by Scarlett Metal


Book Title: Goodbye Girl
Author: Scarlett Metal
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 24, 2013
Rachel met Clint in a diner one night while she was on the road trying to escape her past. From the moment they lay their eyes on each other, sparks fly. He offers her a job on his ranch and even though she's a city girl, she accepts.
It's not long before they give into their attraction and settle into life together on the ranch. They find happiness in each other's arms and Clint quickly wonders if Rachel is the girl that can give him his happily ever after.
Rachel's past eventually comes back to haunt her, and threatens her happiness with Clint. Can they work through their demons of the past and find their happily ever after? Or will Rachel leave Clint just like she fled her life before?

Meet the Author: 
Scarlett lives in the Midwest with her family. When she's not busy writing steamy stories, she can be found with her nose in a book, camping, or geocaching with her family. She loves Diet Coke, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, and 80's hair bands.

Goodbye Girl
Scarlett Metal
Chapter 1 - Rachel
Just a few more miles…Just a few more miles between him and I and it’ll be ok.
My hand was shaking as I took the last sip of my Red Bull.  I hadn’t slept in three days and I’d been living on Red Bulls and candy.  If I didn’t stop soon for a rest, my body was going to shut down.
I’d just made it through South Dakota.  I thought about stopping to see Mount Rushmore, but I couldn’t.  The more distance I could put between Buffalo and me, the better off I would be.
I crossed the state line into Wyoming, watching the sun set into the mountains.  It was around nine at night and the highway was fairly empty.  I saw a sign for Sheridan, Wyoming and decided to find a small hotel there for a night or two.  I would probably be safe there; he’d never think to look for me way up here.  We’d always talked about moving south to Florida, so hopefully he’d check down there first.
I exited the highway and turned into the parking lot of a small hotel with a diner attached.  A shower and a home cooked meal sounded perfect right now.  I grabbed my purse and headed inside to the front desk where an elderly woman greeted me. She looked more like a librarian than someone who would work behind the desk of hotel.
“Hey hun, what can I do for you?” She smiled at me so wide I couldn’t help but smile back.  Her eyes darted to the bruise on my cheek and I self-consciously touched my face.  Never again!  Never again would I be embarrassed to be out in public because of something a man did to me.
“Do you have a room for a night or two?” I asked softly, my hands suddenly trembling.  I shoved them in the pockets of my jean shorts so she wouldn’t notice.
“Just a second,” she said and looked at the screen next to her.  After a few quick keystrokes, she turned back to me.  “Yep, we have a room with a king-sized bed available on the second floor for two nights.  Would you like it?”
I nodded, setting my purse on the counter and reaching inside for my wallet.  I pulled out a few hundreds, hoping she didn’t notice the wad of cash I had in my purse.  I didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself.
I paid for the room and she gave me my key.  “The diner is attached and it’s open twenty-four hours a day.  They have the best food there, breakfast especially.”
I took my key and thanked her before heading back out to my car.  I grabbed a few bags, looking around to make sure I was alone before heading back inside to my room.  Fuck him for making me so paranoid.  I found it easily and threw my stuff on the bed.  I looked at the bed longingly. I really wanted to lay down and pass out cold, but I needed a shower and food first.
I opened one of my suitcases and found a change of clothes and my bathroom stuff.  I turned the water on almost as hot as it would go, before stripping off my shorts and t-shirt.  I glanced at myself in the mirror, wincing at the bruises he left on my arm.  I pressed my fingers gently on my face and bit my lip, fighting back the tears.  He didn’t matter anymore; I was never going to see him again.
I climbed into the shower, the hot water feeling almost like needles on my skin.  I closed my eyes and leaned back, letting the water wash the grime of his touch and the road off of me.  As I stood there, all the emotions I’d kept at bay the past few days came crashing over me.  I started to sob, my tears mixing with the water running down my face.  I reached out and leaned against the shower wall, my body shaking.
When I finally had no more tears left in me, I squared my shoulders, determined not to let him break me again.  I quickly finished in the shower and got dressed, my stomach rumbling.  I took my room key and some cash and headed out of my room.  It was already eleven o’clock, but the lady at the front desk said they were open twenty-four hours, so I figured I’d check it out.  I’d thought about just ordering a pizza and having it delivered, but after being locked in my car essentially for the past three days, I needed to get out.
I walked out of the front door of the hotel and turned the corner to the diner.  As I opened the door, I was surprised to find the place busier than I’d expected at this time a night in small town Wyoming.  My stomach made a noise I was sure the whole place heard and I quickly made my way to a booth in the corner.
I sat down and grabbed a menu.  I was so hungry that everything on the menu sounded good.  I finally decided on an omelet and toast before the waitress even made her way over to me.
“All set to order?” she smiled at me, her black hair back in a high ponytail.
“Yes, I’ll take a ham and cheese omelet, wheat toast, and some milk please.”  My mouth was watering at the thought of eating real food.  Living off of fast food gets really old really quick.
She finished writing down my order and tucked her pencil back behind her ear.  “Sounds good.  I’ll get that in right away and bring you some water, hun.”
She turned and I smiled.  I’d been called ‘hun’ twice in one night.  Where was I?  People back home weren’t this friendly.  Maybe I could get used to this.
I glanced around the restaurant, checking out the other patrons.  There was a group of older men sitting at the counter, their clothes dirty, looking like they’d just come from work.  A few booths away from me sat a young couple sitting on the same side.  I rolled my eyes when they kissed, but a part of me felt a twinge of jealousy.
There were a few others scattered about but my breath caught in my throat when I noticed him.  He was at a table nearby and I have no idea how I didn’t notice him earlier.  He was busy reading the paper and drinking his coffee, but I could see his chocolate brown eyes, lashes so long most women would kill for them.  He was wearing cowboy boots and a baseball hat, so I couldn’t see what color his hair was or how long it was.  He was wearing jeans and I briefly wondered if they were Wrangler jeans and if they fit him like they did the guys in the commercials. A tight white t-shirt showed off his muscular arms and clung to his chest in all the right places.
He glanced up and nodded at me with a wink and a smile and I turned away quickly, feeling my face on fire at being caught staring.  The waitress came over with my food just then, having seen the whole thing.
“He’s hot, isn’t he?” she teased as she set my food in front of me.  I laughed and nodded.  “His name is Clint.  He comes in here all the time.  He owns a big ranch nearby where he lives with his mom, sister, and brother.  He’s one of the youngest ranch owners in Wyoming.”
I turned and stole another glance back at him.  He’d folded up his paper and was getting ready to get up.  As he stood up, my eyes moved down his body.  Yep, he wore the jeans just like in the commercial.  I swallowed hard and felt a stirring deep in my womb when he looked over at me again.  It was like his eyes were looking into my soul.  Sexy as he was, it was a little bit unnerving.
The waitress leaned down and whispered, “He’s single too.”
“I’m not - I didn’t,” I stammered, totally embarrassed again.  Was I that obvious?
“Just thought you’d want to know the way you two are checking each other out,” she winked and turned around to head back to the kitchen.  Wait – he was checking me out too?  I didn’t see that.
I shook my head.  I just left an asshole, I didn’t need another man right away.  It didn’t matter that he was sex on a stick; I wasn’t interested.
I couldn’t help but watch him as I ate.  He seemed to know almost everyone in the diner and stopped to talk to everyone on his way out.  He shook hands with the guys sitting at the counter, laughing and talking with them before turning my way.  Shit, he was going to come right past my table.  I wanted to slide under the table so bad right now.  I cursed myself that I didn’t bring a book or something to read so I could look totally busy when he walked by.
“Hey there,” he greeted me, his voice deep and smooth, like whiskey going down your throat.  He tipped his hat at me and I thought I was going to swoon.  I’d never met a real cowboy before.  Growing up in Buffalo, NY, there was nothing but punk ass men who thought they were all that.
“Hi,” I said, setting down my fork and taking a drink of my milk.
“New around here?” he asked.  I swore his eyes darkened when he noticed the bruise on my cheek and I suddenly wished I’d taken the time to hide it better with make up; I’d just swiped on some foundation, not even bothering with concealer.
“Just passing through,” I replied.  Should I offer him a seat?  But I didn’t know him.  My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
He nodded.  “Where ya headed?”
I shrugged.  “Not sure.  My plan was to just drive until I found a good place to stay.”  Why was I being so open with this stranger?  I rarely shared with people I knew and here I was telling a total stranger my travel plans.
“Hmm…Well, this is a good place to stay and if you need work, I can always use help on my ranch,” he grinned at me and my stomach did a flip-flop.
He put his hand out to shake mine.  “I’m Clint.  I own Hidden Lane Ranch just up the way.”
“Rachel,” I responded, taking his hand in mine.  It was different than his hand; rough, like he knew how to actually do real work.  He griped my hand tight and shook it.  For a second I thought about what his hands would feel like on my soft skin and desire pooled between my thighs.  Sweet baby Jesus, what was I thinking?
“Nice to meet you.”  He released my hand.  “I gotta get back to the ranch, but if you’re interested, talk to the ladies here.  They’ll point you in the right direction.”  He tipped his hat to me again.  “Have a good night, Rachel.”
“Goodnight,” I managed to mutter.  God the way he said my name made me tremble.  What would it sound like if he whispered it in my ear while in the throes of passion?
I watched him leave the diner shamelessly checking out his ass in those jeans.  I kept my eyes on him until I couldn’t see him in the dark night before turning back to my omelet that was now cold.  I was finished with it anyway and paid before heading back to my room.  I didn’t think I could keep my eyes open much longer.
I stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed naked.  As I’m about to drift off to sleep, I thought about Clint’s job offer.  Maybe he was right; maybe this was a good place to stay.  Then I could be around his sexiness all day.  I sighed and rolled over to my side, clutching a pillow against me.  I just left a man, would it really be smart to have another in my life so soon?
The last thing I saw before I drifted off was Clint’s smile.  I might have to check out his ranch in the morning.


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