Collins Drake exercises control over all facets of his life. From his business, to satisfying his physical needs … it all happens on his command.

So when a woman shows up at his door and reminds him of a promise they made each other when they were just ten years old, it shouldn’t have the ability to rock his entire world.

Yet it does.

Because Mia Monroe wasn’t just his childhood best friend, she wasn’t just the girl he lost his virginity to and hasn’t seen since, she’s the one exception to his perfect control. And piece by piece, she’s about to tear apart his carefully laid plans.

Kendall Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance novels, including Hard to Love, Unravel Me, Resisting Her and When I Break.

She’s a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.

Ryder Blythe is is a disaster. A red-headed, tattooed, dirty-talking disaster. But that doesn’t stop Sloane Harris from being totally and absolutely attracted to him. She knows he’s bad news, but she can’t fight the way she feels.

Plus, it’s hard to avoid him since he’s her best friend’s fiancé’s brother. But Sloane can’t ignore the issues Ryder has following his unintentional overdose. Ryder flirts with darkness and Sloane’s not sure if she can fight being dragged down with him.

It seems like only a matter of time before Ryder will self-destruct. Is Sloane willing to take that risk? Or will Ryder finally get his life together and become the man she needs?

“You’re staring at me again,” I said.

“I know. I can’t help it. You’re an interesting and extraordinary person.” Well, I wouldn’t go that far.

Our cupcakes arrived and distracted both of us.

“F*ck me gently with a chainsaw, this is so good,” I said as I took a bite of the Oreo cookie. All of the cupcakes here were filled with extra frosting, so it oozed out when you bit into it.

“Holy sh*t,” Ryder said, taking a bite of the Red Velvet. He got frosting on his nose, and I laughed.

“You’ve got a little something on your nose,” I said.

“Get it for me?” he asked. I thought about wiping it with a napkin, but used my finger instead.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem.” We went back to our cupcakes, and I considered ordering more because they were just so damn good.

“Life will never be the same,” I said. “This is all your fault. Now I’m going to be addicted to this place, and I will have no money because I spent it all on cupcakes. I’m going to get so fat. Are you happy now?” I asked, scraping the last of the bits of cupcake off my plate. I thought about licking the crumbs, but that seemed like a bad idea in public.

“You know, I think they deliver,” he said, wiping his face with a napkin.

“Shut the f*ck up right now. You are kidding.”

He held up the menu and pointed to the part that said they delivered anywhere in the city.

“You bastard,” I said, grabbing the menu from him and typing the number into my phone so I could use it to call anytime I wanted cupcakes, which would be always.

“How about I buy you another round? Drinks and cupcakes.”

I shook my head. “No, you bought the tea and cronuts. It’s my turn to pay for something.”

He sighed heavily.

“If this was a date, which it isn’t, you could pay. But it’s not a date. So you lose, fire crotch,” I said.

He choked on his seltzer water and sprayed it over the bar. That earned him nasty looks from those around us, but the bartender just handed us a stack of napkins with a smile.

“You two are cute together,” she said.

“Who, us?” I asked.

“Yes, you. How long have you been together?”

I looked at Ryder, wondering how we should handle this. He just put his arm around me and turned toward the bartender.

“Three months,” he said. “It’s our anniversary.” The f*ck? I gave him a stunned look and he just winked at me.

“Isn’t that right, baby?” Ugh. I hated it when guys called their girlfriends baby. It was so degrading. Or at least I’d thought it was degrading. But that was before Ryder called me baby and it made me feel all giggly.

He squeezed my shoulder, as if asking me to play along. Oh, what the hell.

“That’s right, sweetie. Three glorious months.” I smiled at the bartender, and she leaned in so she wouldn’t be overheard.

“How about I bring you something special? On the house.”

“Um, sure,” I said. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Really, thank you,” Ryder added.

She waved off the thanks. “It’s nothing. I’m just a fan of people in love. I think it should be celebrated, especially with cupcakes. I’ll be right back.”

She vanished and came back a few moments later with a cupcake that was so large, it was the size of three normal cupcakes. There was something stuck in it that she lighted which turned out to be a small sparkler.

“Congratulations,” she said, and then headed off to take more orders. The people around us all stared.

“They probably think it’s one of our birthdays,” I said to Ryder.

“Probably. We should blow that out before it sets something on fire.” He had a good point. He picked up the sparkler and doused it in the rest of his seltzer water.

“That’s one way to do it,” I said, and picked up my fork. The cupcake was vanilla with a creamy white marshmallow frosting, and it was filled with what was almost like raw cake batter with sprinkles.

“How is it?” Ryder asked, watching me as I chewed and swallowed with relish.

“Have a bite and see,” I said, pointing to his fork.

He did and banged his fist on the table. “Damn, that is good.”

We slowly ate the rest of the giant cupcake. Good thing I didn’t eat dinner or else I might not have managed it. I finished my third bellini and leaned over on the bar. It was probably dirty, but I didn’t care.

“You happy we came here?” he asked, pushing aside the now-empty plate.

“Happy. Full of cake. Same thing.”

“Agreed.”

Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world’s worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman). She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.

How did I become a Jett Girl?

Hell if I know, one moment I’m working at the premiere spot for creepy men and sloppy drunks and the next, I’m being whisked away by a moody ex-boxer and a mysterious man in a suit that overlooks his girls from the third floor of the Lafayette Club.

It wasn’t easy but now that I’m a Jett Girl, there is only one thing on my mind and that is Jett Colby.

He has captured me, stolen my heart and entwined my soul into his at such an alarming rate that it seems almost difficult to breathe without him holding me, touching me, kissing me…

He won’t give me his heart though, he won’t let me own every last inch of him and not because he doesn’t want to, but because he doesn’t want to jeopardize my ambiguity.

Because of this, there is only one thing standing in my way when it comes to completely and utterly living my life with Jett Colby and it’s called Lot 17.

“You think I’m just some street trash that you found and can fuck for a while and once you’re done you can just throw me away, with the rest of the Bourbon street residue.”

Okay, I knew that wasn’t necessarily true because he cared for me, he took care of me and he told me I was beautiful but I refused to acknowledge any of that right now, I was mad.

“You disappoint me, little one.” My heart fell from his words. “I never want you to think of me like that because that is not even close to how I feel.”

“Yeah, well, with the way you just stated your feelings about me, how am I supposed to think?”

Jett ran his hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. Ha! I got him. Finally, an emotion!

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head as he looked down at the ground. He loosened his shoulders and then looked back up at me. “I just…fuck, I’m an ass.”

I nodded, he was an ass. Good self-assessment.

“We’re different, Jett, in many ways and I’m trying on my end. Can you try on yours?”

He continued to stare at me but said nothing.

“Why can’t I go to your parties with you?”

Silencing me, he held his hand up and said, “That is non-negotiable. You’re not going.”

“Because you’re embarrassed of me,” I stated as my pride started to deflate.

“No.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to his chest. “Not because I’m embarrassed of you, there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I just don’t want you to be exposed to those people. You’re a Jett Girl, you need to keep your anonymity. I don’t want them knowing who you are.”

“They won’t,” I said while pushing the subject. “No one knows who I am on stage so if they saw me in person, they would never be able to tell. I just don’t see why you won’t give me a chance. I can be classy.” I grabbed an empty glass off Jett’s desk and held it in front of me and stuck out my pinky finger. In a fake British accent, I said, “Oh why isn’t it a charming night in old New Orleans. Did you catch the hobos eating a rat a few blocks down?”

A smile crept over Jett’s face as he tried to hold back his laughter. “Not happening,” he said more playfully as he pulled me to his chest.

“Just give me a chance. I will go to refine school. I’m sure Kace can teach me a thing or two.”

“I don’t want Kace teaching you anything,” he said with a sharper tone than warranted.

I played with Jett’s buttons as I said, “You jealous?”

“When it comes to you, I’m always jealous. You should know that by now. Seeing you interact with anyone but me drives me crazy. I don’t think I could stand to take you to any parties with me, there would be way too many people staring at you. I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

Slipping my hand in his shirt so my hand caressed his bare chest, I said, “Jett, give me a chance. I can be the person you need.”

When I was in high school I occasionally read books but was consumed by other teenage things so I didn’t take the time to appreciate a good book on a cloudy day, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch. It wasn’t until I received a Kindle for Christmas one year that my world completely flipped upside down. When looking for books I came across the Contemporary Romance genre and was sold and I haven’t turned back since.

You can either find my head buried in my Kindle, listening to inspiring heart ripping music or typing away on the computer twisting and turning the lives of my characters while driving my readers crazy with anticipation.

I currently reside in beautiful Colorado Springs where the sun is always shining and there is a trail waiting to be hiked on every corner. I share a lovely and warm home with the love of my life and my five, four-legged.

She hates him, yet she can’t get him out of her mind.

Female Bantamweight fighter, Gabriella Reynolds, has a bad habit of falling for forbidden fighters. Enter Paxton Emerson. He’s tall, tattooed, and the current UFC Light Heavyweight Champion. Everyone wants a piece of him, and he only has eyes for her. Through no choice of her own, she’s fallen in his debt and he’s now demanding payment. Too bad it doesn’t involve currency. Gabby’s decision to fulfill her promise to him ultimately brings out her true feelings, but also spurs the unwanted attention of another.

Rage’s fixation on his newest obsession reaches dangerous levels. Unfortunately, Paxton Emerson has become a roadblock to his end goal and needs to be removed from the equation—by any means necessary.

Gabby will do anything to save Pax, but what happens when she’s the one who needs saving?

“So we meet again,” he said simply. For a moment, his sea green eyes flustered me like they did every time I saw him. This time, I couldn’t let that happen.

Throwing open the door, I rolled my eyes and ventured back into the living room. He was going to come in anyway, there was no reason to stop him. “It appears so,” I grumbled. “I was wishing you’d forget about me. I guess the hundred pennies I threw in that well didn’t work.”

The door shut and I could hear him chuckle. “Sorry, love. No wish is going to get you out of our agreement. I gave you a week of freedom, but now your time’s up. You’re not thinking of backing out are you?” Instead of sitting beside me on the couch, he sat in the chair across from me, his gaze boring straight into mine.

“No. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. I always keep my promises.”

“And the same goes for me,” he murmured, voice smooth and deep. “Now, how ‘bout we get down to business?” My heart sped up at the thought and a small smirk splayed across his lips.

“Fine,” I answered, clearing my throat. “I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

The deep chuckle in his chest rumbled all the way down to my clit. “Oh, we’ll see about that, sunshine. First, I need to know. What’s the status with you and the douchebag baseball player?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“It is now, considering for the next month you’re going to be with me and me only. You’re going to have to get rid of him.”

My eyes went wide. “Are you serious? What am I supposed to tell him?”

Nonchalantly, he shrugged. “I don’t give a shit what you tell him, as long as he knows to stay away from you. If he so much as causes a problem, I’m going to extend the month.”

“Don’t you think this is a bit extreme? Wouldn’t a week suffice?”

His expression grew serious. “You obviously have no idea how far out I put my neck on the line for you. I think a month is being very generous.”

USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.

Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can’t forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.

Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over nine novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.