Collector Of Book Boyfriends

This isn’t just a two-year long one-night stand. It’s my life.

This is my life. Our life. It isn’t just some careless affair.

I’ve made the worst decisions a woman could, but I’ll earn my second chance.

She can try keeping all the guilt for herself, but I’m just as much to blame.

Loving Casey wasn’t my biggest mistake. Fighting it for so long was.

I’ll show her how fearless our love makes me. I’ll protect her torn heart.

He still has magic in his eyes. He’s the man who makes me happy.

Her voice still brings me to my knees. She says my name like it’s sacred.

I live for the day when I’m his. To take care of him. To love him the way he deserves.

I can’t wait to be all she needs. I can give her a happy life, security and so much love.

Sometimes two ships never meet in the night, but ours did.

Sometimes the water is rough. It beats you all to hell until you have no choice but get stronger.

Our love story reads more like a tragedy, but to me it’s clean and pure.

Let them point their fingers. Without a love like ours, they haven’t really lived. I pity them.

I’m a cheating wife and a villain. I am his honeybee.

I’m a snake in the grass and I sleep best when I’m lying next to his wife.

I want to be his everything.

I’m nothing without her anyway.

This isn’t even close to over.

It’ll never be over.

M. Mabie lives in Illinois, NOT Chicago, with her husband. She loves writing for Fifty5Cents Book Blog, which she owns and operates, usually poorly.

She cares about politics, but won’t discuss them in public. She uses the same fork at every meal, watches Wayne’s World while cleaning, and lets her dog sleep on her head.

M. Mabie has never been accused of being tight lipped or shy. She’s THAT girl.

(She doesn’t usually speak in third-person, but surprisingly does when she’s weirded-out about writing her bio.)

We are so excited to bring you the Release Day Launch for Lauren Blakely’s SEDUCTIVE NIGHTS Box Set! The SEDUCTIVE NIGHTS Box Set is a compilation of the novella and all three full-length novels from her first Erotic Romance Series, The Seductive Nights Series! Grab this box set now and stay warm through those cold winter nights ahead.

ABOUT SEDUCTIVE NIGHTS BOX SET:

Seductive Nights: The Complete Julia and Clay Collection is a box set of all the books starring Julia and Clay in the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Seductive Nights Series. This box set includes First Night, Night After Night, After This Night, and One More Night. This is the ONLY Seductive Nights box set that includes the final Julia and Clay novel, ONE MORE NIGHT.

BOOK #0,5: FIRST NIGHT

When the sinfully handsome Clay Nichols walks into her bar in San Francisco, Julia Bell simply wants a break from the troubles that keep chasing her. They share one scorchingly hot night together, but discover a connection that runs deeper than mere chemistry….

BOOK #1: NIGHT AFTER NIGHT

With a dirty mind and a mouth to match, Clay Nichols is everything Julia never knew she wanted and exactly what she cannot have. He walked into her life one night and unlocked pleasure in her that she never knew was possible. Possessing her body, captivating her every thought. Which makes him way too dangerous for Julia to risk her heart, given that she has a price tag on her head. She ran after one mind-blowing week with him, but now he’s back, and determined to make her his own.

BOOK #2: AFTER THIS NIGHT

Clay Nichols can’t get the gorgeous and fiery Julia Bell out of his mind. He’s so drawn to her, and to the nights they shared, that she’s all he can focus on. But she’s playing hot and cold, and he wants all of her. When he finds her again at her sister’s wedding, they have a second chance but she’ll have to let him all the way in. And they’ll learn just how much more there is to the intense chemistry they share, and whether love can carry them well past the danger of her past and into a new future, after this night…

BOOK #3: ONE MORE NIGHT

Sexy bartender Julia Bell and hot-as-hell entertainment lawyer Clay thought their future was clear sailing. But life doesn’t work that way and the fiery lovers run into a slew of new challenges. Trouble looms in every corner on their trip to the city of sin. Can Clay save Julia from danger one more time? Or will he be too late for the woman he adores?

She tugged one end of the ribbon, letting the white satiny bow fall across the shiny wrapping paper. Ripping off the paper, she popped open the top of the box, and there it was. That glow in her eyes. The absolute joy in receiving gifts. She was a delight to give presents to because she never faked her appreciation. Reaching inside the box, she wrapped her fingers around the necklace then gently lifted the long strand of pearls. “Oh my God, they’re stunning. They’re so fucking gorgeous.”

She draped the pearls over her hand, the long strands like waterfalls of smooth, rounded beads. She gazed at them like they were precious, a fitting response, since they were. “They’re real,” she said, with wonder in her voice as she looked up at him.

He nodded. “I would never give you something fake.”

“I’ve never had pearls before. I’ve never thought of myself as a pearl person.”

“Then let me show you how I want you to wear them, so you can see how absolutely fucking sexy a pearl person can be,” he said, standing up and making his way to his suitcase. He opened one of the zipper compartments where he’d tucked a dress for her, and brought it over. “Another gift. Put this on.”

“Now?”

He nodded. “Yes. Model it for me.”

“As you wish,” she said, standing up and glancing once at the cockpit. “What about the pilot?”

“I told him we’d be making full use of the plane and he said he’d have his eyes on the sky the whole time.”

“Then keep your eyes on me,” she said, looping the strand around her neck, then stripping off her skirt, letting it pool at her feet, her gaze locked on him the whole time. He watched her, growing harder with each layer she removed—now her shirt, then her lacy bra. He reclined the spacious leather seat, taking in the show, savoring every second of her undressing. She stood before him in only her underwear, a small bit of sheer white covering her pussy, the evidence of her arousal
already starting to show as he caught a quick glimpse between her legs.

“There’s no need for the panties. Get rid of them now, Julia,” he told her in a rough voice.

She nodded, and stepped out of the panties.

Taking the silky dress from his hands, she tugged it on, and he shuddered, jealous of the fabric that now hugged her naked curves. She turned around, but kept looking at him, watching as he caught sight of the backless dress for the first time.

He drew a sharp breath, letting it fill his chest as the view of her bare skin fueled his desire. “Come here. I need to adjust those pearls,” he said, and she kneeled in front of him. In one quick move, he shifted the strand from her front, dangling between her breasts, to her back, so the pearls were a choker on her neck.

“Now sit on my lap, so I can admire you,” he said, and she rose, then positioned her sweet little ass on his thighs. He smoothed his hands over the soft skin of her back, his cock stiffening as she hitched in a breath at his touch. Unable to resist her breasts, he looped his hands around to cup them through the fabric, kneading and stroking until her nipples quickly turned to hard diamond points. She gasped, and arched her back, pressing her breasts further into his hands as if she needed the pressure, craved the touch. He played with her breasts until she was nearly panting, then returned his hands to her gorgeous back, and the trail of pearls that led down her spine. “I can’t decide if I want you to wear these while I fuck you or if I want to play with them while I’m fucking you,” he mused, as he fingered the pearls.

“How would you play with them?” she asked, and her voice sounded hot, wanton.

“Let’s find out.”

 The Seductive Nights Box Set will be at it’s lowest price ever as an introductory rate for the holidays at just $2.99, but this price will go up over the weekend following its release!

Message from Lauren:

I’m so thrilled that so many readers have fallen in love with Juliaand Clay and the Seductive Nights series. I originally only intendedto write one book, Night After Night, and then it became two withAfter This Night. As soon as I published that book last May, readersasked for even more! So I wrote One More Night, and it was such a joyto spend more time with this couple. I hope more readers have a chanceto get to know their sexy love story, and that’s why I have packagedall three full-length novels starring Julia and Clay in one box setfor the first time ever! Happy Holidays and may your nights be filledwith pleasure!

Signed Copy of Night After Night, After This Night, and One More Night

Lauren Blakely writes sexy contemporary romance novels with heat, heart, and humor, and her books have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and iBooks bestseller lists. Like the heroine in her novel, FAR TOO TEMPTING, she thinks life should be filled with family, laughter, and the kind of love that love songs promise. Lauren lives in California with her husband, children, and dogs. She loves hearing from readers! Her novels include Caught Up In Us, Pretending He’s Mine, Playing With Her Heart, Trophy Husband, Far Too Tempting, The Thrill of It, Every Second With You, Burn For Me, Night After Night, After This Night and One More Night. In late summer, she’ll release Melt for Him, the next book in her sexy fireman series, and in October she’ll release Stars In Their Eyes, the next book in the bestselling Caught Up in Love series. She also writes for young adults under the name Daisy Whitney.

Are you ready for the conclusion to The Gypsy Brother’s Series?

ONE LOVE IS LIVE!

*The final book in the #1 iBooks bestselling Gypsy Brothers series*

Will Julz complete her mission for vengeance against the Gypsy Brothers? Or is Dornan still one step ahead?

More shocking secrets will come to light and lives will be lost in this final, devastating instalment of the Gypsy Brothers series.

Chapter One

 The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.

“I want my lawyer,” I repeat for the hundredth time.

There are two CIA agents in front of me, and they’re playing a very cheesy rendition of good cop / bad cop.

We’ve been at this for hours. Boss Bitch — Agent Dunn, as she’s since told me — on one side, and her completely dumb but cute male offsider, Agent Brennan, on the other. In my head, to pass the hours, I’ve nicknamed them Agent Bitch and Agent Dumbass. I sit across from them, my hands in my lap, heavy metal cuffs weighing them down.

My throat is dry, my tongue parched. Agent Dumbass has a fresh can of Coke in front of him, and I can see the tiny beads of condensation running down the sides. I want it. I want to reach over and grab the can. I don’t even need to drink what’s inside. I’ll settle for the condensation making its lazy descent down the side of the bright red can and onto the dusty Formica table that separates me from them.

“Let’s try this again,” the female cop says, tucking a loose blonde hair behind her ear. The rest is up in a severe bun that reminds me of a matronly grandmother, even though this woman only looks about thirty. She’s got a slight southern inflection that reminds me of Elliot’s grandma.

I don’t reply, waiting for whatever it is she plans on doing next. Her next big thought, her latest overdone gesture, to try and convince me that I should spill all of my dirty secrets onto this table between us. So far she’s used threats against Jase, a plea deal that would grant me immunity, and long stretches of silence.

None of that will break me. I’ve been tortured by Dornan fucking Ross. This woman’s going to have to try a lot harder, or maybe get out some pliers and start yanking my teeth out of my mouth, before I’ll give her a single damned thing.

She snatches up a manila folder and opens it, handing a photograph to her male offsider. “Stick these up,” she barks at him, and he moves slowly, ripping a section of blue-tack from a large blue ball of the stuff that must live permanently on the wall to my left. I watch, just slightly interested as to what they’re going to try and scare me with.

They don’t disappoint. As I watch them pin 5×7 photographs to the wall, I can’t help but feel some sense of satisfaction for the lives that ended at my hands. I have to remain impassive though, so I tamp down the gloating grin that wants to spread across my face and settle for my resting bitch face instead.

Dunn peeks at me from the corner of her eye, and I return her gaze impassively. She might think she can get under my skin, but I grew up in the Gypsy Brothers MC for shit’s sake. I know how to hold out in front of a cop.

“Chad Ross,” Dunn says, smoothing her pants as she stands up and circles the table, coming to stand next to the photographs her partner is sticking up in a haphazard fashion. I wait for her to reach out and straighten them. Boom. Three seconds later, she does just that, making sure all of the photos line up.

“Chad Ross was poisoned,” she continues, tapping one manicured fingernail against the photo of his bloated death face.

“Looks nasty,” I reply.

“It’s a nasty way to die,” Dunn says, peering at me. “The killer added pure methamphetamine to an energy drink he later consumed. He was probably dead before he hit the ground.”

He wasn’t. He suffered. Thankfully.

“And you’re showing me this why?” I ask, studying my own nails, bitten down to the quick. I never was a girly girl. It’s not easy to keep your nails tidy when you’re constantly trying to claw your way back from death.

Dunn looks at me pointedly before jabbing her fingernail towards the second photo. Ahhh, yes. Maxi in all his naked, bloody glory. His face is a mess from the coke I shoved underneath his nose, the coke laced with strychnine that made blood gush from his nose like warm water from a faucet. I still remember the way his blood felt on my hands. How surreal everything was, bright and garish, as my skull burned with a small amount of the poisoned coke I’d snorted myself.

How I’d nearly died in my quest to kill him.

How it was so worth the risk to see the look on his smarmy fucking face, when I whispered in his ear who I really was and sat back on his lap to watch the fury rise in his cheeks.

As he realized a black widow was the one who’d just fed him his last meal of poison and cocaine.

I glance at Agent Dunn, clearing my throat and attempting to look bored.

“Strychnine-laced cocaine,” she says. “In fact, the same thing you were admitted to hospital for that very night. Jason Ross brought you in to emergency room. They said you almost died.”

“It was a hell of a night,” I reply curtly. “My nose still bleeds just thinking about it.”

She raises her eyebrows in disbelief, and in that moment I have no doubt that she’s cataloguing me as a sociopath or similar.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say suddenly.

“Shoot,” Dunn responds.

I reach my hand out slowly, methodically and take hers, a bold move. She could pepper spray me, shoot me. You’re not supposed to touch the interrogators. But she’s ballsy enough that she doesn’t want to take her hand away, even as I watch her flinch minutely.

“How do you keep your nails so pretty?” I ask sweetly, the saccharine in my voice not reaching the cold death stare I give her. I hold up my other hand. “Mine are hopeless. You spend much time in the field, Agent Dunn?”

She takes her hand away, and I let my own cuffed hands fall back into my lap. I know her skin must be crawling from my touch.

I hope the feeling stays there for a long time. She should not have fucked with me.

“I take good care of myself, Miss Portland,” she says briskly. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

“My child died,” I say blankly. “Physical appearance isn’t on the top of my priority list right now.”

She bristles momentarily. “I am sorry for your loss,” she says finally.

I sit back, crossing my legs. “No, you’re not,” I reply.

She points to the third photograph, which is… hell, I’ve got no idea what that is. I tilt my head, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.

“It’s a leg,” Dunn supplies.

“Ohhh,” I say, nodding. “Thanks.”

It is indeed a leg, or at least part of one. Charred and black, with spots of unmarred flesh and blood still peeking through in sections. Huh. I wonder who it belonged to.

“Two Ross brothers were killed in an explosion. Somebody put homemade bombs in their fuel tanks, can you believe that?”

I shrug. “Sounds like they must have had it coming.”

Dunn points to the final photos, and a cloying heat bleeds up my chest and neck as I remember those three months of horror and torture I endured at Dornan’s hands before I was broken out. The way Dornan’s father Emilio flew backwards with a meaty thump as the top of his head was blown clean off, blood and brains flying everywhere. Mickey’s look of horror that didn’t fade after the bullet entered his face, such a satisfying end for men whose only fault in death was that their ends were much too swift. I imagine how much more satisfying it would have been to hang them by their feet and burn their eyes out with cigarettes and blowtorches, or pull their teeth out with rusty pliers, one by one.

That would have been much more fitting for the men who tried to destroy me, the same men who murdered my father.

Still… they’re dead, and that’s better than them being alive.

“That’s got to give you a headache,” I joke, referring to the last two pictures. The blood and gore have no effect on me. My stomach is made of iron after the atrocities I’ve seen, after all that I’ve endured. If this bitch wants to rattle my cage, she’s going to have to try harder.

“And then we have Jimmy,” she says, sticking one last photograph to the wall. Jimmy’s face, still frozen in shock, the trail of blood from his temple where Jase shot him barely noticeable in the extreme close-up.

“He looks unwell,” I comment. “Thing is, I’m still not sure why you’re showing me all of this.”

Dunn frowns so hard it looks like she’s about to burst a blood vessel.

“Here’s the thing,” she says, throwing a stack of photographs in front of me. “We’ve got you. We have your DNA on the first two victims, and motive. We’ve got probable cause to take you to trial.”

I sift through them, suppressing a twisted smile as I see what happened to Jazz and Ant after they bit the big one when bombs in their motorcycle fuel tanks exploded, ripping them to pieces. It isn’t pretty, what became of them. But to me, it’s beautiful.

I drop the photographs on the table and lean back in the hard metal chair I’ve been sitting on for the past five hours.

“These people are — were — like family to me. Don’t you think it’s a little tacky showing me all of this? I’m still grieving for these boys. They were like brothers to me.”

Agent Dunn actually rolls her eyes at me. At least she’s got some spunk somewhere in there. “Give it a rest, Miss Portland,” she says impatiently. “You’ve got more motive than anyone else, and no alibi for any of these murders.”

“Motive?” I ask sweetly. “And what might that be?”

Agent Dunn hesitates. Go on, I think. Say it. They raped me until they thought I was dead. The murdered my father, and you want to arrest me? Say it.

“I’m not authorized to talk with you about an active investigation,” Dunn says finally. “But I really think you should start talking, Miss Portland.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay,” I say finally. “I give up. You got me. I’ll tell you something. Let me write it down.”

Dunn’s beady eyes practically wig out of her head. She studies me for a moment, probably to see if I’m telling the truth, and I stare right back at her. If she wanted a wallflower who’d stare at the floor, she arrested the wrong girl.

After a beat, she stands up, turns and bustles out of the room. I divert my attention to Agent Dumbass, who looks like he’s about to fall asleep in his chair.

“I’ll make a full confession,” I say, “if you give me that.” I point to the coke can and he eyes it dubiously. After a pause, he slides the can over to me with one finger. With a smile, I pick up the can between my cuffed hands and take a long drink.

The fizzy liquid burns on the way down my throat, but it’s delicious. I drink as much as I can before Agent Bitch returns, setting it back down on the table and smiling at Dumbass. I slide the can back towards him with a wink. Let him think we’re friends. Let him think I’m just a silly young girl who couldn’t possibly hurt anyone. He looks surprised, taking the can back as Agent Bitch walks back into the room.

She looks between me, the can and the goofy look on Agent Dumbass’s face and shakes her head.

Sliding into her seat, she drops a yellow legal pad on the table between us as she addresses Dumbass.

“She killed a man by poisoning his drink with pure meth,” she says to her partner. “You sure you want that back?”

“Allegedly,” I add.

The oaf stares at the can for a few seconds. Finally, he pushes it back in my direction with an embarrassed look.

In the past five hours or so since I was unceremoniously dumped in this interrogation room, I’ve gone through the whole gamut of emotions. Fear. Shock. Despair. Now, I’m at anger. Anger that bubbles within me. Anger that is thinly disguised as apathy to these two morons.

Dunn drops a blue Bic pen on the legal pad and pushes it over to me. I hold up my cuffed wrists helplessly.

“I can’t write with these things on,” I say.

Dunn gives me the filthiest look before nodding at Dumbass. He stands and circles around to me, removing my cuffs before returning to his spot.

I WANT A LAWYER. I write it as obnoxiously large as I can, underlining the word LAWYER three times.

Agent Bitch’s smile disappears, replaced by a thin line of contempt at her mouth. I grin. Good luck getting those cuffs back on me, motherfucker. I sit back in my seat and snatch up the Coke, draining the rest of the can before they think to take it from me.

“We can play this game for however long you want, Miss Portland,” she says curtly, fiddling with the stack of crime scene photographs in front of her. I smile.

“I’ve got all day,” I say sweetly, even though I really, really don’t. Dornan has Elliot’s daughter and ex-girlfriend, and possibly Elliot himself, and Jase and I have twenty-four hours to meet him and get the girls out of danger before he kills them. At least, that’s what I’m assuming he plans to do to them. I can’t even comprehend what else he might be planning to do to those poor girls to get back at us.

Agent Dunn shakes her head one last time, gathering up the files and stalking towards the door. “I’ll give you some time to think about your position,” she says.

“Isn’t this illegal?” I call out to her. “I’m an American citizen. I have the right to an attorney. Get me a goddamn lawyer!”

Really, I just need a lawyer to post bail so I can get the hell out of here. Not that I’m sure I’d actually be bailed out, but I need something, and talking to these two is proving fruitless. A cold panic is building up inside my stomach, in the hollow space where my baby once lived and died.

God, it’s still so raw, so vicious when the memory of our tiny little baby takes hold and squeezes me. Sometimes, selfishly, I wish I could forget about her, because losing her has cursed me with more pain than I could ever imagine.

If I had any remnants of doubt about killing Dornan before? They’re gone, bled from me in the moments after our daughter was born, still and dead, in the early hours of the morning when the world was still dark.

He took her from me. From us. And I cannot rest until he’s dead and buried, a rotting corpse in the cold ground, a memory and nothing more.

Dornan Ross needs to burn for the things he’s done.

Agent Dumbass follows his partner out of the room and pulls the door shut. I immediately stand up and go to the door, testing the handle. Locked from the outside. Of course. I go back to my chair, collecting the pen someone so thoughtfully left for me and shoving it into my pocket. You know, just in case I need to stab somebody sometime soon.

Which, as it turns out, is sooner than I’d anticipated.

About an hour later, Agent Bitch sticks her head back into the room. “Your lawyer’s on the way,” she says, closing the door behind her again.

This could be anyone. A cop posing as a lawyer to get a confession on tape. A hit man, sent by the Gypsy Brothers or the Cartel. I’m like a sitting duck in here, and I don’t like it one tiny bit.

But what greets me isn’t any of those things.

It’s so much worse.

I don’t move an inch as the door swings open and he walks into the room. Dressed in a suit I’ve seen before, clutching a black leather briefcase by his side. He looks positively fucking amused.

“Well,” I say bitterly, “They’ll let any motherfucker take the bar these days, won’t they?”

One Love trailer Gypsy Brothers from Scandalicious Fans on Vimeo.

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Lili writes dark romance, suspense and paranormal stories. Her serial novel, Seven Sons, was released in early 2014, with the following books in the series to be released in quick succession. Lili quit corporate life to focus on writing and so far is loving every minute of it. Her other loves in life include her gorgeous husband and beautiful daughter, good coffee, Tarantino movies and spending hours on Pinterest.

She loves to read almost as much as she loves to write.