Weekend Excerpt–LUKE & BELLA

They traveled the world looking for excitement.
But love is the ultimate adventure.

Strong-willed ginger Bella Grant is a take-charge television journalist with an appetite for adventure. Handsome and sexy Luke McGillicutty is a world-weary photographer coaxed out of premature retirement with the promise of traveling the world with a smart, spunky redhead. They’ve been paired up to create a new brand of television travel program.

Traveling to romantic destinations, staying in first-class hotels, finding adventure at every turn, it’s not surprising that the two fall in love. Luke is stunned to realize that Bella is the woman he’s looked for his whole life. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and courageous.

The only thing is, Luke hasn’t been completely up front with her. He hasn’t told her that he’s into BDSM. He could play it safe, keep the relationship going exactly the way it is. But Luke wants more. As a Dominant, he craves the intimacy that a Dom/sub relationship provides. And he knows without a doubt that Bella is the perfect submissive. How will she react if he approaches her about submitting to him as a Dominant? Maybe she’d be intrigued by the idea. On the other hand, he could lose her forever.

Life on the road working with Bella is great. Nights spent in Bella’s arms are amazing. Should Luke just be satisfied with the way things are? Or should he risk everything on the chance that they could have it all?

LUKE & BELLA is the first book in the Dream Dominant Collection. It’s part travelogue and part erotic romance. Here’s a steamy little teaser.

They explored their way through the Amsterdam evening, shooting video here and there, stopping now and then to check footage or to look into a shop window. As Bella stood peering at the display in the window of an antique shop, Luke watched her, amazed once again at her simple beauty. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. She looked up at him, smiling and stood on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his lips.

“Amsterdam is lovely, m’lady,” he said. “But I’m looking at you and thinking about being back at the hotel.”

She blushed slightly. “What are you thinking about the hotel, Cowboy?” she asked.

“I’m not sure whether or not you noticed,” he said kissing the corner of her mouth, “but there’s a big old tub in the bathroom.”

“Is there?” she asked innocently. “Are you feeling dirty?”

He grinned wickedly. “I’m feeling all kinds of dirty, m’lady.” She giggled softly. “God, I love that!” he growled.

“What?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“I love when you laugh,” he replied.

Bella rolled her eyes, laughing self-consciously.

They made their way back to The Toren, holding hands and talking quietly about nothing in particular. Once back in the suite, Luke smiled and said, “Someone thoughtfully sent a bottle of Scotch.”

Bella bowed theatrically. “That was thoughtful, wasn’t it?” she laughed.

“Would m’lady care for some wine?” he asked, grinning.

“I’d love some wine,” she answered. “How about you call for some and I’ll get the bath started?”

“I knew we made a great team,” he laughed. “Division of labor.”

Bella retreated to the bedroom as he picked up the phone. She started the bathwater, tossing in some of the lavender bath beads, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve candles from her trunk and she placed them around the bathroom, lighting them. Finally, she stripped down and donned her pink satin robe.

When she returned to the sitting room, the steward who brought the wine was just leaving. Luke turned and saw her, letting out a long low breath. “Wow,” he said. He poured a glass of wine for her and one of Scotch for himself. “To a beautiful lady,” he toasted.

She crossed the room and put her arms around his neck. He put down the glasses and pulled her to him, kissing her lips, cupping her breast through the silky fabric.

“Hey, Cowboy,” she breathed into his kiss.

He reached down and untied the sash of her robe, allowing it to hang open, just revealing the inside curve of her breasts, her smooth belly, the V shape of her sex with its light swath of red hair. “Damn, girl, you take my breath away,” he whispered.

She shrugged her shoulders and the robe fell to the floor. “Come on, Cowboy,” she whispered back, turning to walk back to the bedroom.

He carried their drinks as he followed her into the bedroom, appreciating the view of her from behind. She turned and, pulling him to her by the front of his shirt, and kissed him deeply. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and helped him off with it. She stepped back to watch him undo his pants and step out of them. Taking his hand again she led him into the bathroom.

He held on to her as she stepped into the bath and then followed, sitting behind her, leaning against the back of the tub. She sat between his legs and eased back against him, sipping her wine, letting out a long sigh. This was exactly where she wanted to be. She rested her head back on his shoulder.

Luke drank in the feeling of her wrapped in himself, the sensuality of the moment; the warm water, the candlelight, the scent of the bath blending with her fading perfume, her soft skin, the contented smile on her face, the glow of her hair, her breasts, her nipples begging to be kissed.

He kissed her neck, just below the ear and slowly moved his hands down her body, stopping to fondle her breasts, to tug gently on her nipples causing them to harden and stretch. He gently parted her legs, finding her soft sex and softly he caressed her there.

She responded with a low, deep moan, pressing herself against his hand, begging for more pressure. He continued stroking her before sliding in first one finger then two, beginning a slow deliberate circle inside her. Feeling her release building, Bella gasped and moaned again. “Let go, babe. Lose yourself,” he hissed. “Come in my hand.” Orgasm thundered through her body starting in that small secret place and radiating from there as she cried out in release.

She took a moment to catch her breath, and then turned in the tub to face him. She moved onto his lap facing him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and reached down to stroke his erection, kissing him roughly as she did. She felt his gasp in her kiss and she moved closer, raising herself higher before sliding down to sheath him.

He began to move his hips and she matched the rhythm of his movements, clenching him with herself as she moved up and down. A low growl escaped from deep in his chest and he gripped her, holding her firmly in place, burying himself deep inside her. She began to moan as once again she neared climax, crying out as her body shattered with pleasure. He finished with a loud cry, “Unh, God, baby…” Afterward, he held her tightly, gently stroking her back, kissing her forehead.

Later, after they’d toweled off and slipped into bed, Luke watched as she fell asleep in his arms. He thought about the first time he saw her, red curls all sunlit, and he smiled as he remembered her nervous introduction. “I’m Bella. Isabella. Just Bella,” she’d stammered.

“I love you, Bella, Isabella,” he whispered. In her sleep, Bella smiled. He watched her until dreams overtook him.

LUKE & BELLA by Pandora Spocks

LUKE & BELLA is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/LukeAndBella1

Weekend Excerpt–ANNA’S HEART

She’s a rancher with a heartbreaking secret.
He’s Hollywood royalty,
poised to take a chance that risks his reputation and his career.
Now that they’ve found each other, can he win her heart?

Anna Graves works hard helping to run her family’s Wyoming dude ranch. Still reeling from the tragic loss of her smokejumper fiancé in a horrific wildfire, she is content to hide from the world as she teaches horseback riding lessons to tourists by day and reads smutty romance novels by night.

When world-famous Scottish actor Angus McGregor needs to brush up his cowboy skills in preparation for his starring role in a new Western, he heads to Sweetwater Ranch in the boondocks of Wyoming. He is immediately fascinated by Anna, who won’t give him the time of day. Can he break down the self-protective wall she has built?

If you like hot cowboys, Scottish accents, and happily-ever-afters, you’ll love ANNA’S HEART, the third book in the Redheads & Ranchers series!

In this teaser, Anna meets Angus for the first time.

After lunch, Anna led her first beginners’ riding class of the new session. This time around, she had six eager young riders between the ages of five and twelve, and for two hours, she led them through their paces. By the end of the following week, each student would be able to groom and saddle his or her own horse, and they’d be competent enough to participate in the overnight trail ride and camp-out with their families.

When her riding class was over, Andy helped her untack her horses, and they worked together to feed and water the entire stable of fifteen equines.

“Guess that actor guy isn’t coming,” he commented as he and Anna left the barn and headed for the lodge.

Anna shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Simone was really looking forward to meeting him.”

“Maybe you should be relieved,” she grinned at her brother wryly. “Sounds like she might decide to just ride off with Angus McGregor.”

Andy held up his hands in mock surrender. “I just want to keep the pregnant lady happy.”

“Hang in there, not much longer now,” Anna observed. “Just a few more weeks.”

When they entered the lodge, several of Anna’s new students ran to greet her.

“Anna! Anna! This is my mom and dad!” cried the youngest of her students, a tiny towhead blonde named Ariel.

Anna grinned broadly. “Hi, Mom and Dad. It’s nice to formally meet you.”

The mother smiled. “She can’t stop talking about riding Rocket.”

“We named him Rocket kind of ironically. He’s really slow,” Anna laughed, thinking affectionately of the old bay.

“Well, Ariel had a good time. We’re excited about the camp-out at the end of next week,” the father said.

Anna nodded. “That’s usually the highlight of everybody’s stay.”

Across the room, Vanessa waved to Anna. “If you’ll excuse me,” she offered before heading off to find out what her mother wanted.

“A flyer came in the mail today. Founders’ Day is next week.”

Anna frowned slightly at the brightly colored page her mother thrust into her hands. The bulk of the page was a vintage photo of Main Street in Crystal Springs, overlayed with jaunty graphics declaring the annual Crystal Springs Founders’ Day celebration.

Back in the late 1860s, the nearby town of Crystal Springs had sprung up practically overnight as a mining boomtown. The coal vein had played out by the middle of the following century, but the small town was proud of its heritage. Each summer, they celebrated what they thought of as Founders’ Day with a parade down Main Street followed by a giant picnic, and capping off the evening with a family-friendly town dance.

There was a time when Anna looked forward to the annual event. Now, she scowled at the announcement.

“I’d like that put on the bulletin board on the front porch,” Vanessa said. “I’ll mention it at dinner, but I want to make sure all the guests know they’re invited to attend.”

Anna nodded and headed toward the front door.

“And Anna?” her mother called after her.

She stopped and turned around.

“I expect you to go this year.” Vanessa arched an eyebrow, daring her daughter to argue.

Anna stalked back to the reception desk. “I don’t want to go. Why do you insist that I go?”

“Because it’s time you started getting out, meeting people.”

Swallowing her rising irritation, Anna gritted her teeth. “I meet people.” She waved toward the guests wandering through the lodge’s lobby. “They’re all people.”

“You know what I mean.”

Huffing in frustration, Anna turned on her heel and headed back toward the door.

“You will go. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

Wordlessly and without turning around, Anna waved the flyer in the air and marched out the door. Opening the glass front of the bulletin board, she silently fumed at her mother.

For fuck’s sake! I’m twenty-fucking-six years old! I don’t need to be told what to do and how to do it, where to go and when. I make my own decisions. Besides, there are always things that need to be done around the ranch. Everyone can’t go gallivanting into town. Somebody has to stay back and hold down the fort.

Part of her told her she was making way too much out of her mother’s request that she attend the celebration in town. But the rest of her was in no mood to be reasonable. She tacked up the flyer and closed the protective glass door, deciding she’d go remind her mother about the need for someone to stay behind during the festivities.

She turned abruptly and ran headlong into something solid. The next thing she knew, she and a tall red-haired man landed in a tangled heap on the front lawn.

“Oof,” he managed as he lay gasping for air.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you standing there.” Anna scrambled to her feet and reached down to help the man stand.

Slowly, he allowed her to pull him up. Green-tinted Rayban aviators askew and a pair of bags strewn on the grass, he coughed slightly as he straightened to his full height.

Anna figured he had to be well over six feet tall, maybe as much as six and a half feet, judging by the way he towered over her five-foot-four frame.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

He nodded, reaching to straighten his sunglasses and run his fingers through his red hair. “Aye, had the wind knocked out of me is all. And that’s a fine welcome, I must say,” he replied in a thick Scottish brogue.

Feeling her cheeks color, Anna reached to brush the dirt off the man’s sleeve. “I’m really sorry! It was totally my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Aye, you should have,” he grinned wryly, “but then I’d have missed being tackled by a bonnie lass such as yourself. Do you play rugby, perchance?” His laugh was hearty, almost infectious.

Mortified, Anna started to gather up his belongings, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “I’ve got my bags, thanks.” He hoisted a large leather duffel bag onto his broad left shoulder and picked up a matching suitcase. “I have a reservation for McGregor. Do I check in here?”

“Um, yes,” Anna nodded. “Just this way.” Still blushing, she led the way up the front steps and into the lobby. With a pair of tortoiseshell-framed readers perched on the bridge of her nose, Vanessa Graves stood at the check-in desk efficiently tapping something on a keyboard. When she looked up and saw her daughter with their new guest, she smiled brightly.

“Mr. McGregor is checking in,” Anna said meekly, wishing she could melt through the floorboards.

“I’d be happy if you’d just call me Angus,” he said quickly.

“I’m Vanessa Graves. Welcome to Sweetwater Ranch, Mr. M–Angus,” Vanessa greeted him. “We’re happy to have you here.”

“I’m happy to be here. You have a lovely ranch, from what I’ve seen so far.” He glanced Anna’s way and she blushed furiously.

Mrs. Graves turned and retrieved a brass key from an old-fashioned wooden key rack behind the front desk. “Here you are. Cabin 6. Anna will take you there.”

She handed him the key and smiled cordially. “You’ll find a folder in your cabin with this week’s schedule. Once you settle in, I hope you take the opportunity to explore the ranch. And dinner is here in the dining room at 6:00.”

While Anna silently shot daggers at her mother, Angus’s full-wattage grin was charming. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Graves.”

He turned and looked at Anna expectantly.

“Oh, um, right this way.” She turned, shooting one last glare at her mother, and led their new guest back outside.

ANNA’S HEART by Pandora Spocks

ANNA’S HEART is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/AnnasHeart

Weekend Excerpt–BROKEN HARTS

BROKEN HARTS is now LIVE at your favorite online bookseller!

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.

But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink tulle bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

*****
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

If you love your romance with a little heat and plenty of heart, you’re going to love Broken Harts!

Here’s a brand-new snippet from BROKEN HARTS.

Taking Logan’s hand, Ali led him back to the den where their drinks waited. They settled on the sofa, and Ali used the remote to click on the television. It was tuned to a nature documentary, and she turned the sound all the way down.

Logan handed her a mug and picked up the other one for himself. “Cheers,” he smiled, and they clinked glasses.

Ali closed her eyes as the hot, fragrant liquid rolled down her throat. The spices tickled her tongue while the whiskey warmed her chest. With another sip, the chill of the evening and the panic she had felt began to slip away.

“This is delicious.” Logan gestured with his mug and took another sip.

“It’s the best, especially on such a cold, nasty day,” Ali agreed. “I don’t have much need for a hot toddy in Florida, although sometimes we do get a cold snap in winter.”

Logan pressed his lips together as though suppressing a grin. “How cold does it get?”

“On a really cold day, it can get all the way down into the forties.” She shivered at the memory.

Logan laughed out loud. “Oh, the horror, how can you stand it?”

“Well, for there, it’s frigid,” Ali defended sheepishly. “It usually comes with a biting wind that goes right through you.”

He arched an eyebrow mischievously. “You realize, of course, that I’m from the Windy City, right?”

They both laughed softly. Then Ali sighed.

“Yeah. You were supposed to be back in the Windy City right now.”

Logan shrugged lightly. “Ah, well, things happen. It’s all good.”

“Were you supposed to be back for a reason? You said that this was just a quick trip.”

He waved vaguely. “There was a charity thing I was planning to attend. But again, there was no way I would leave you to deal with your dad lost out there in the cold. No way.” He shook his head definitively.

“So now what?” Ali asked with a soft sigh.

“I don’t know. I suppose that once my clothes are dry, I’ll go to a hotel. I found a flight that leaves first thing in the morning.”

Debating with herself, Ali chewed her lower lip in thought. She sipped her drink for some liquid courage and looked up at Logan. “You could stay here.” She watched to see his reaction.

He blinked slowly as if deliberating this new idea.

“We have a guest room, of course,” Ali added quickly. “But I wondered if you’d want to stay with me.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could bite them back.

“I mean, if you want to. But a hotel is always nice. Or whatever. Just…” Mentally, Ali cursed the blush that heated her face.

Logan pursed his lips and tilted his head slightly. “Did you know that when you blush, your freckles kind of stand out?”

Embarrassed, Ali fidgeted with her glass and looked away.

“And did you know,” he murmured as he leaned closer, “that you’re stunning?”

Reluctantly, Ali looked back up at him.

“Ali Hart, are you inviting me to spend the night with you?” He arched an eyebrow, and mischief sparkled in his blue eyes.

Feeling emboldened by his response, Ali suppressed a smile. “Well, you know, you’re a pretty great kisser. Now I’m wondering what else you’re good at.”

*****

In the still of pre-dawn, Logan gazed up at the ceiling of Ali’s bedroom and sighed contentedly. Her head rested on his shoulder as his right arm cradled her. His left arm curled beneath his head on the pillow.

At the sound of her steady breathing, he smiled. When he’d invited her to lunch, he’d had no thought of ending up in her bed.

He shifted his lips thoughtfully. Well, to say no thought wasn’t entirely accurate. He’d allowed the occasional notion or two to blossom into full-blown fantasy, fodder for a private jerk-off session in the shower here and there. And there had been a stray thought or three when she’d shucked her coat at the restaurant earlier in the day, that form-fitting sweater dress clinging to every curve most deliciously. His cock had certainly taken notice.

He allowed himself a silent whistle.

Still, he would never have broached the subject. Not on a day like today, with the drama of her father being lost. It would have felt manipulative, somehow.

But it had been Ali who had brought it up, Ali with that heated gleam in her soulful brown eyes, and he’d been helpless to respond in any other way than he had.

There on the sofa in the den, they had made out like two starving souls, each practically clawing at the other, lips desperately seeking and finding, until Logan thought he’d explode right there. With a knowing smile, Ali had stood up and taken his hand, leading him to her bedroom, where she shut and locked the door behind them.

In the privacy afforded in her room, Logan had shed all pretense of self-control, hurriedly tugging first at her clothes and then his own until they stumbled toward the bed in a tangle of discarded garments. He scarcely waited for her to retrieve a condom from her bedside table before he plunged himself into her.

He closed his eyes and replayed the moment in his mind, relishing her gasp in his ear as he took her that first time. He hadn’t lasted long. He had known he wouldn’t. It had been a long time.

Catherine usually couldn’t be bothered, and when she acquiesced, he usually ended up feeling like he’d had to talk her into having sex with him. Which was why he hadn’t bothered in months, preferring his own hand and a vibrant fantasy life.

That first time on the bed had been followed up in the shower, where he and Ali had adjourned to clean up. The memory of her perky tits, water dripping from her luscious, imminently suckable nipples, her water-slick, shapely ass… Softly, he whistled again as his cock stiffened at the memory of taking her a second time against the marble wall of the shower.

The third time had been different, much slower and more sensual as he’d gradually brought her to climax twice, each time with Ali whimpering softly as she attempted to stifle her orgasm.

Note to self, he thought. Next time, we go to a hotel. The thought pleased him. He wanted to hear Ali’s pleasure unfettered by the presence of other people in the house.

Next time.

Pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, his thoughts strayed back to when they had first arrived at the Hart’s apartment. Taking care of Ali’s father had involved a flurry of activity. Logan had stayed in the background as much as possible, grateful when Mrs. Smith offered him warm, dry clothes in place of the damp, clammy ones he had worn in the snow. While changing in the hallway bathroom, he had taken the opportunity to call Catherine to apprise her of his missed flight.

She had taken it as he’d known she would, anger reducing her conversation to short, clipped responses. No doubt there would be hell to pay when he returned home.

Of another thing, there was no doubt, as well. Logan couldn’t marry Catherine. He didn’t love her; it was as simple as that.

Honoring their hair-brained pledge had been a bad idea from the get-go, but at that low point in his love life, it had seemed like a reasonable consolation.

A hell of a reason to get married, he chided himself.

Ali shifted slightly, sighing softly in her sleep. Logan gazed down at her and held her closely, appreciating the sense of warmth that flooded his soul.

No, he couldn’t marry Catherine. He didn’t love her. He loved Ali. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. And if he were honest, he’d known it since he’d first seen her in the subway station. He was utterly in love with Ali Hart.

The only thing to do was to call off the engagement. Logan resolved to do it as soon as he got home.

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

BROKEN HARTS is available at your favorite online bookseller.
For a limited time, you can still take advantage of
the 99¢ special price.
books2read.com/BrokenHarts

Weekend Excerpt–FOR SPARROW

2018 GOLDEN FLOGGER AWARD WINNER
Best BDSM Book, BDSM Light!

A platonic Dom/sub relationship?
It’s a damn odd arrangement.

When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant.

But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet.

Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral.

A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.

Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?

Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution?

And could it all end at the hands of a madman?

FOR SPARROW is the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection. Here’s a steamy snippet.

They followed the porter up the stairs to the last door on the end. He opened it with a flourish. “Welcome to your suite.”

Judd motioned for Jessi to go ahead, and she entered, finding herself in a small foyer that opened onto a warm, inviting, luxurious suite. The room was appointed with British colonial furnishings in muted earth tones. The king-sized mahogany four-poster bed was flanked by matching side tables, and beyond that was a sitting area with a small sofa opposite a pair of wing-backed chairs, a low table between them. But what caught her attention was the pair of French doors that opened onto a generous veranda overlooking the ocean.

Jessi drew open the door and stepped outside as a warm breeze ruffled her hair. A pair of rattan rockers with thick beige cushions sat pointed toward the water, a small circular table between them. She crossed to the white railing then turned to look back into the room.

Judd was handing a few bills to the porter and thanking him. He closed the door behind the man, then joined Jessi outside. The roof hung over the expanse of the veranda, so that even on a rainy day, the outdoor space could be enjoyed.

“What do you think, Angel?” he asked, sliding his arm around her waist and nuzzling her neck as they faced the beach and the water beyond.

“I think,” she tiptoed up to kiss him, “that this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” She nuzzled his cheek, wrapping both arms around him. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m happy you like it. But there are more surprises.”

Jessi looked up at him. “More surprises?”

Judd nodded. “But something’s wrong.” He knitted his brow, feigning confusion. “Angel is here, and dressed, rather than on her knees, and naked. How is that possible?”

She tried to suppress a smile. “That’s possible because Sir didn’t tell me.”

He shook his head in mock exasperation. “Blaming it on me, too? The infractions just pile up. Hurry!” He smacked her bottom lightly as she headed inside, then turned to gaze out over the strip of sugar-white sand separating the land from the crystal blue water.

If he were being honest with himself, he’d have to acknowledge the tendrils of anxiety that tickled his stomach. Offering Jessi a collar was a big step-what if she said ‘no’?

Could she say no? He sighed deeply. He didn’t think so.

He turned back to the room and was pleased with what he saw. He’d been deliberately vague in his instructions for Jessi. She knew to be naked and on her knees, but he hadn’t said where. In the absence of any directive, she’d gone with what was their norm, kneeling at the foot of the bed. His cock celebrated the sight of Jessi, arms behind her, breasts pushed forward, her head bowed submissively with her eyes closed.

Judd stalked noiselessly across the tile floor to where his bags were, unzipping the top of one and extracting a black satin blindfold mask. Jessi waited patiently, eyes still closed. Rather than standing in front of her, which was their custom, he stopped behind her, lightly petting her hair.

“Angel, you are amazingly beautiful. You have no idea. I think,” he slid the blindfold into place, “I want you to forget about seeing for a while. Just concentrate on your other senses.”

He moved back to his bag, returning with a small implement in his hand. To his knowledge, Jessi hadn’t experienced a Wartenburg wheel. At least she’d never mentioned it to him. “Safe words, Angel. What are your safe words?”

“Green, yellow, and red, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he nodded. “Use them if you need them.”

Lightly, Judd drew his fingers across Jessi’s shoulders, leaning down to fondle her breasts. He heard the change in her breathing and knew she was aroused. Her nipples peaked instantly, her areolas simply tight pink puckers around the sharp points.

Applying only the slightest pressure, he drew the spiked wheel up her arm from her elbow to her shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Jessi. He stilled his movements. “Color, Angel?”

“Green, Sir. I was just…surprised.”

Judd smiled, resuming his meandering with the wheel, drawing it across her collarbone to her other shoulder and down, delighting in the goosebumps that formed across her body. Her nipples sharpened to impossibly tight points, and unable to resist, he headed that direction with the wheel, lightly grazing them.

Jessi caught her lower lip in her teeth and groaned softly. Abruptly, he stopped his survey of her torso and walked away, returning a moment later with something different in his hands.

Curious, Jessi listened as hard as she could, straining to hear what Judd might be doing next. As she waited, impatient for his sweet torture to continue, she became aware of the scent of leather. She turned her head this way and that, trying to figure out where it was coming from. She heard Judd’s throaty chuckle and felt a puff of air on her face. The leather scent was a bit stronger.

“I’m not sure what you want me to do, Sir,” she confessed.

“You may remove the blindfold, Angel.”

Jessi loosened her grip behind her back and reached up to slowly slip off her blindfold. Blinking against the soft light in the room, she saw nothing but the bed.

From behind her, Judd lowered a purple leather collar into view. It was plain, for the most part. A strip of purple leather about an inch wide, it was marked only by a quartet of silver rivets in the center of the strip, flanking a D-ring with a round ring attached to it. There was a silver buckle on one end and the other end tapered into a point. Judd moved around and sat on the end of the bed, laying the leather strip over his knee. Wide-eyed, Jessi ventured a finger to lightly stroke the collar. Then she looked up to Judd.

“What do you say, Angel? Will you be my submissive? Will you agree to obey me, trusting me to lead you?”

Jessi stroked the collar again and gazed back at Judd. Her voice was soft. “I’ve already given you my submission. I do trust you to lead me.”

Judd smiled. “This makes it official. I’d be honored Jessi, if you’d wear my collar.” Earnest longing sparkled in his eyes.

Jessi bowed her head. “If it pleases you, Sir, I’d love to wear your collar.”.

FOR SPARROW by Pandora Spocks

Award-winning FOR SPARROW is available
at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/ForSparrow

Weekend Excerpt–BROKEN HARTS

Two weddings.
One Valentine’s Day.
And hearts will be broken.

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.

But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink chiffon bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

***
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

Read a snippet from BROKEN HARTS.

The elevator deposited Ali on the 4th floor of the 12-story 1920s brick apartment building. She made her way down the hallway to the door of 4D, the place she had always considered her home.

Using her old brass key, she let herself inside and headed through the foyer toward the living room. “Dad? I’m home,” she called softly, hoping not to disturb her father in case he happened to be napping.

His live-in housekeeper met her in the living room. “Good afternoon, Miss Alison. Your father is in his study. He’s been a bit…unfocused today,” Mrs. Smith related in her crisp British accent. 

Mrs. Smith had been a fixture in the Hart home since Ali could recall. When Jackson and Michelle had divorced during Ali’s junior year in high school, Mrs. Smith had been a steadying presence.

Ali frowned, trying to decipher the woman’s polite description. The sound of papers shuffling and a deep unintelligible muttering drew Ali’s attention toward Jackson’s office down the hallway.

She smiled reassuringly at Mrs. Smith. “Thanks! I’ll go see what’s going on.” She was positive she saw relief in the older woman’s eyes.

“Dad?” she called as she walked down the hall. She popped her head in the doorway of her father’s small office. 

Backlit by the window behind him, he stood in the center of the room clutching a sheaf of papers in each hand. His shaggy gun-metal grey hair stuck out wildly in all directions, giving him the air of a deranged madman. He was also naked from the waist down.

“Aw, geez, Dad, you have to wear pants. Seriously, now, Mrs. Smith is going to quit if you keep doing this.”

“I can’t find it,” he said urgently. “I can’t find it anywhere. Someone broke in and stole my manuscript.”

“Let’s go get you dressed and I’ll help you find what you’re looking for,” Ali said patiently.

**

“I’m really sorry about Dad,” Ali apologized. “I had no idea things had gotten so bad.”

Following a dinner of Mrs. Smith’s famous pot roast and roasted green beans, Jackson had wandered into the den to watch the news on cable. Ali insisted on helping the housekeeper clean up in the kitchen.

“You know I consider you and your father family,” Mrs. Smith smiled kindly. “It’s just that I’m not as young as I used to be. I worry that I won’t be able to keep Mr. Hart safe.”

Ali shook her head. “It wasn’t your fault that he got lost that time.” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “I know Brendan and Megan probably told you that it was.”

The elderly housekeeper gave something of a Mona Lisa smile and said nothing.

“It’s not your job to keep him from leaving the apartment.” Ali sighed deeply. “I looked at that care home today. It was really awful.”

She frowned sharply. “Well, it wasn’t awful, exactly, it just…wasn’t for Dad. He’s so independent. I’m thinking of seeing if we can’t hire a full-time nurse-slash-companion for him, someone who’ll stick with him and keep an eye on him. That way he can keep his independence and still be safe.”

Mrs. Smith’s eyes twinkled with kindness. “You’re a good daughter,” she said simply. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

When they’d finished with the kitchen, Ali bid the housekeeper goodnight and joined her father in the den. Together they watched a documentary until the old man began to nod off in his chair.

“Come on, Dad, let’s get you to bed,” Ali said softly.

She helped him change into a pair of plaid flannel pajamas and waited while he performed his bathroom tasks. Then she tucked him into bed.

“Goodnight, Dad,” she murmured, kissing his scruffy cheek.

“Goodnight, Ali-gally,” he returned, invoking his favorite nickname for her. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me, too,” she smiled, giving him another kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

After a quick shower, Ali found herself comfortably ensconced in her own bed, staring up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom as light and shadows from the city street outside formed familiar shapes. The day had been so hectic that she hadn’t had time to consider the man she’d met when she’d gotten off at the wrong subway stop. 

Well, met? That might be a strong word, she decided. They hadn’t exactly exchanged names. They had barely exchanged words. And yet…

She linked her fingers together and cradled her head as she sighed deeply. And yet, the man’s image was burned into her brain. In her imagination, she watched him materialize. First were those sea-blue eyes, alight with life and soul and passion. Or did she just imbue him with those qualities in the absence of actual knowledge?

Next came those utterly kissable lips, quirked in a lopsided sort of way as though he were privy to a joke no one else had yet heard.

In her mind’s eye, his square jaw formed, defined by dark stubble that made her want to cup his cheek. The stubble matched his dark wavy hair that seemed slightly mussed on purpose, as though he might be due a haircut any day now.

In her bed on Park Avenue, Ali closed her eyes and heard his voice in her imagination. 

“Can we…”

Ali’s eyes popped open. Can we what? She pursed her lips in thought. 

Can we share a cab downtown? Run off together to Rome? Drop right here and do it doggy style?

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, feeling herself blush. Again, she cursed herself for being in such an all-fired hurry to leave. 

It had been on impulse that she’d flattened her palm on the inside of the subway window. And he’d followed suit on the outside. He’d been as intrigued as she’d been.

She mulled the idea for a moment, then shook her head. Because ultimately, what difference did that make? She didn’t know his name, where he lived, whether he was single or married…

There was one thing she did know. She wanted to know more about him.

Sighing again, she shifted onto her side and willed herself to meet him in her dreams.

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

BROKEN HARTS is a part of the Forever Yours Valentine’s Day Collection.
Also included in this collection:
* Bella’s Wish by International Bestselling Author Linzi Basset
* All’s Fair in Love and Spells by Victoria Escobar
*My Italian Valentine by the USA Today & International Bestselling Author Diana Nixon

Reserve your copy of BROKEN HARTS for just 99¢!
books2read.com/BrokenHarts

Weekend Excerpt–For Sparrow

A platonic Dom/sub relationship?
It’s a damn odd arrangement.

2018 GOLDEN FLOGGER AWARD WINNER–Best BDSM Book, BDSM Light!

When Jessi Crenshaw’s husband Graham dies unexpectedly, she’s devastated. He’s the only man she’s ever loved. Just eighteen when she met him, she’s been married to him for twenty-five years. Now she’s lost her friend, her lover…and her Dominant.

But as it turns out, Graham had an inkling that his health was in decline, and he tapped his friend and protégé in the Lifestyle, firefighter and paramedic Judd Farris, to be Jessi’s Dominant until she gets back on her feet.

Judd is determined to fulfill his promise to his friend. But it’s a damn odd arrangement—a platonic Dom/sub relationship. With her fiery auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and audacious spirit, Jessi captured his attention the first time he ever saw her. At her husband’s funeral.

A man could go to hell for the things he’s been thinking. But they’ve drawn a line, and he’s going to stick to it.

Judd’s sexy good looks and his gentle confidence aren’t lost on Jessi. She’s torn between loyalty to the man she loved, and desire for the man increasingly in her fantasies. In the letter Graham left for her, he mentioned that she might find Judd attractive. But that’s simply ridiculous. He’s five years younger than she is. He couldn’t possibly be interested in her. Could he?

Judd’s a Dom without a sub, and Jessi’s a sub without a Dom. It’s perfect for the time being. Could it be that Graham had more in mind than merely a temporary solution?

And could it all end at the hands of a madman?

FOR SPARROW is a contemporary erotic romance novel with a light BDSM theme. It’s the third book in the Dream Dominant Collection.

Read an excerpt from FOR SPARROW.

I buried my husband today.

The thought tumbled through Jessi’s mind over and over, like clothes in a dryer. Voices around her sounded oddly muted, as though she were underwater. Occasionally, someone touched her, a simple grasping of her hand, a gentle pat on her shoulder, and the sensation felt like burning embers showering down over her.

Following the graveside service, mourners had gathered at her home. Hers and Graham’s.

Only Graham isn’t here. We left him at the cemetery. I buried my husband today.

Food had appeared in her kitchen. Casseroles, desserts, salads. There was even a brisket. An army of women had set up a command post and were making sure guests had plenty to eat and drink. Jessi wondered briefly if there was enough ice for the drinks. Maybe she should ask Graham run to out and get some more.

I buried my husband today.

Since that day, her phone hadn’t stopped ringing. Friends and neighbors hadn’t stopped calling and dropping by. “How are you?” “What can we do?” “What do you need?”

Her business partner, Sarah Reid, had been her rock, taking over the events they had scheduled for the week, returning calls Jessi didn’t have the strength to deal with.

“You take all the time you need, hon,” Sarah had told her. “We’ve got it under control.”

Since that day.

“Sparrow, I need to get the oil changed in my car. Why don’t you drive to the mechanic’s and I’ll meet you there? I’ll drop you at your office, and then we can do the reverse this afternoon.”

Jessi had waited at the mechanic’s shop. After an hour had passed, she’d tried his phone. A stranger had answered.

“This is Officer Brooks. The owner of this phone has been in an accident. Are you the wife of Graham Crenshaw?”

A police car had picked her up and driven her to the hospital. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Crenshaw. It appears your husband suffered a fatal heart attack behind the wheel of his car. When the car hit the utility pole, he was most likely already deceased.” The doctor had had an air of resigned sympathy. Jessi had wondered how many people he pronounced dead on an average day.

Sarah had met her at the hospital and had driven her home. Jessi wasn’t sure how her own car had gotten back to the house. She’d somehow made the calls to Cara and Adam. “Something has happened. Your dad died.”

Cara, age twenty-three, had made her excuses at her job with the Weather Channel, and had taken the first available flight from Atlanta to West Palm Beach. Adam, age twenty-one, had driven from Orlando where he worked as a video game animator.

Jessi and the kids had gone to the funeral home the following day to see to burial arrangements. The funeral director had neatly folded his hands on top of his huge mahogany desk and smiled kindly.

“Mrs. Crenshaw, your husband has everything prearranged. You don’t need to worry about a thing, it’s all taken care of. He has requested that he be buried in a navy suit, with a white shirt and a blue and red paisley tie. Do you know the things he means?”

Jessi had nodded dumbly. What he’d described was her favorite suit of Graham’s. He always looked so handsome, and he’d worn it when they’d celebrated their anniversary a few months back.

He had it all planned out. But when? Did he do it after the heart attack a few years ago? Why didn’t he mention it?

“We’re just so sorry for your loss.” The statement shook Jessi from her thoughts, returning her to the morbid gathering in her living room. It was a neighbor couple from down the street.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not meeting their eyes. She sipped her wine to have something to do, and wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey, hon, how are you holding up?” Sarah asked.

Jessi shrugged and gave a weak smile. “I’m okay.”

“Can we get you something to eat?”

Jessi shook her head and headed back to the living room.

I buried my husband today.

“Jessica. I was just chatting with your lovely daughter and son,” said Rev. Lyman. “Graham was a good man, taken before his time.” He looked at Jessi with slight reproof. “I hope we’ll be seeing you and your family on Sunday.”

“Maybe, Reverend,” Jessi replied softly. “If you’ll excuse me and my children.”

“Of course. Family has to pull together at a time like this.”

They watched him work his way across the room. “I’m not lovely?” quipped Adam.

Jessi smiled at her son. “You’re lovely to me. And you’re welcome for getting the good reverend to move along.”

“Do you love the way Rev. Lyman tried to get in a plug for going to church?” commented Cara.

“My personal relationship with God is exactly that. Personal,” replied Jessi. “How are you two doing?”

“It’s hard,” said Adam, his voice breaking.

“I know. You don’t have to stay for all of this. I have no idea when people will decide to leave.”

“I’m here until Friday,” Cara said. “I don’t want to leave you alone to deal.”

Jessi kissed her cheek and then Adam’s. “Thank you both. I love you so much. Your dad loved you, too.” She felt tears forming again. She felt as though she’d cried out her very soul, and yet tears were always near.

Cara’s here until Friday. What day is it again?

Cara and Adam moved out to find their friends. Jessi turned to look for a place to sit. She was so weary. She was stopped by a woman she vaguely recognized.

“Jessica, I’m Harriet. From church?”

“Oh, yes, Harriet. It was good of you to come.”

“Sweetie, I just want to remind you that Graham is in a better place.” She beamed at Jessi, as though her words bestowed onto the new widow some sort of miracle.

Jessi felt a twitch begin at the outer corner of her left eye. If I don’t get out of here right now, I’m going to scream.

“If you’ll excuse me, please,” she murmured, pushing past the woman. She hurried through the kitchen, ignoring Sarah as she called to her, and slipped out the back door.

The lanai and pool deck were blissfully quiet in the early evening twilight. The sun had set and the lights had come on automatically. She crossed to the far side of the pool, and sat on the raised edge of the spa with her back to the house. Finally alone, she leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs and let the tears flow.

She’d only been there a few minutes when she heard a sound, the soft scuff of a leather shoe against the brick pavers. She sat up abruptly and whirled around.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to bother you.” The man was tall and muscular, his dark hair in short waves framing a handsome face, his dark suit cut slim. Large brown eyes were soft and sympathetic.

Jessi sniffed and stood, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “I just needed some air. I buried my husband today.” She looked up at him, shocked. “That’s the first time I said that out loud.”

He smiled kindly. “I’ll leave you alone. I just wanted to say that Graham was a good man. He was my friend and I’ll miss him.”

“Thank you. Did you work with him?”

“No. We were friends. I’m Judd, by the way.”

Jessi nodded. “Thank you for coming, Judd. I’m sure he would have appreciated it.” She began walking back towards the house. Judd fell into step beside her.

“I thought maybe I would come back on Saturday, maybe help you with the lawn,” he said.

Jessi was only half-listening, wondering if Harriet had gotten the hell out of her house yet. “Mm-hmm,” she murmured.

“Alright, Jessi,” he said. “Take care, now.”

She nodded and went to find her children.

–From FOR SPARROW, 2017 New Apple Medalist for Literary Erotica and 2018 Golden Flogger Winner for Best BDSM Book–BDSM Light.

FOR SPARROW by Pandora Spocks

FOR SPARROW is available at your favorite online bookseller.
books2read.com/ForSparrow

Weekend Excerpt–One Final Christmas Scene

Two weddings.
One Valentine’s Day.
And hearts will be broken.

BROKEN HARTS is my new Valentine’s Day novella, and it’s coming out Februry 12, 2021. Until then, it’s on Pre-Order for only 99¢. books2read.com/BrokenHarts

Here’s the official blurb:

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.
But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink chiffon bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

***
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

How about an exclusive first look at this (unedited) Christmas snippet?

“What do you think, Dad?” Stepping back, Ali surveyed their handiwork and smiled. The woodsy scent of pine hung in the air as the ten-foot-tall Frasier fir towered over the pair of them. For the last two hours, they’d unboxed cartons of ornaments from Ali’s childhood and lovingly placed them on the dark green boughs, all while being serenaded with classic holiday vinyl courtesy of Jackson’s ancient turntable.

“It’s beautiful, Ali-gally,” her father grinned. “It looks like Christmas in here.”

“I think so, too,” Ali smiled. “In fact, I think we picked the best tree on the lot.” She hugged her father tenderly. “Let’s get a photo.”

Standing in front of the tree, she removed her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, cued up the camera, and held it out at arm’s length. She wrapped her other arm around her father’s waist. “Smile, Dad!”

Heads pressed together, the pair smiled into the camera lens and Ali snapped several shots. 

“Dinner in ten minutes,” Mrs. Smith commented from the doorway. “Oh, my, what a lovely tree!”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Ali grinned. “Dad, why don’t you go get washed up? I’ll take care of all these boxes and meet you at the table.”

While Jackson shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom, Ali skimmed through the photos she’d just snapped and sent the best one to Logan. 

Throughout the day, she’d kept him up to date with a photographic journal of their adventures, from brunch at a nearby deli, to their foray into the tree lot, to their struggle in getting the tree up to the apartment. The doorman had been invaluable in that effort. 

Then once the tree was up, she’d snapped a few pictures along the way, ending with the final result, Ali and her father smiling with the tree sparkling behind them.

Beautiful, Logan texted in response. And the tree is nice, too.

LOL! she texted back.

Holy shit! Your dad is Jackson Hart!

At this, Ali laughed heartily. Unable to resist, she pressed the video chat icon.

“Hi, Ali,” he answered, grinning into the camera. “Your tree turned out great.”

“I know, right? We haven’t had a fresh-cut tree in ages. When we got back with it, we dug out the old ornaments from when I was a kid.” She sighed happily. “I just love it.”

“Judging from the pictures, it looks like you had a good day,” he observed with that lop-sided grin she was beginning to adore.

“We really did. Dad is doing so well today. You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we were thinking. Maybe if we just get someone to cover the night shift so his housekeeper doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open,” she ventured, “he might be alright.”

“That would be great,” Logan agreed.

The sight of her father shuffling to the dining table jogged Ali’s memory. “Oh, crap, I forgot that we’re about to sit down to eat. From the smell of it, I’m guessing Mrs. Smith has made chicken curry.”

His eyes widened. “Wow, I’d better let you go, then.” He frowned slightly. “So Ali, I’m checking my schedule for next week and it looks like I’ll be in New York on Friday, but only for the day. Is there any way you’d be free to have a late lunch-slash-early dinner with me?”

“A week from today,” Ali said thoughtfully. “Yes, I’ll make sure I leave Friday afternoon open. That sounds great! I can’t wait.”

Eyes shining, Logan nodded. “Me, too. I’ll see you then, but we’ll probably chat before Friday.”

“We will definitely chat before then,” she agreed. “Alright, Logan, I’ll talk to you soon. Have a great night!”

“You, too, Ali.” He held up his hand in a wave and they signed off.

**

After he hung up with Ali, Logan scrolled back through the photos she’d sent throughout the day, a thoughtful smile playing across his lips. He loved each picture documenting her outing with her father and their Christmas tree adventure. Something that felt a lot like envy lurked at the edges of his consciousness and he willed it away. 

In his favorite photo, Ali smiled up at him with those sparkling cognac-colored eyes. Behind her was a sea of evergreen, with Jackson Hart himself off to her right, appearing to inspect one of the trees just as she snapped the frame. 

God, she’s pretty

And she was, but not just physically. Something about Ali was vital and authentic, as though she hadn’t a care in the world about how other people viewed her. She knew who she was and what she wanted out of life. 

What Logan would have given to have accompanied her on that outing today. That. That was what he envisioned in a relationship with a lover, a wife, a partner. Leaning back in his chair, he exhaled slowly. He’d tried to capture that aesthetic with Catherine by suggesting that they, too, go out Christmas tree shopping. And he’d been resoundingly shot down. 

Asking Ali to meet him on Friday had been impulsive. Although he had business to attend to in New York, Friday night was Catherine’s big charity gala, and he absolutely had to be back in time to attend. Which meant that he’d fly in early Friday morning, then leave by mid-afternoon.

Originally, when he’d realized that he’d only be in the city for a few hours, he’d decided not to even mention it to Ali. The only other time they’d gotten together, they’d chatted for hours over coffee. It seemed cruel, and maybe a little unrealistic, to plan to get together for what would be such a very brief time.

But as they were saying their goodbyes, the invitation had just popped out of his mouth before he could pull it back in. And if he was honest with himself, he was happy it had. He couldn’t wait to spend time with her, even if it was only a little while.

At the nagging sense of guilt pulling at him, he rolled his eyes. 

It’s just lunch. Lighten up.

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

If you love your romance with a little heat and plenty of heart, you’re going to love Broken Harts!

THIS STORY IS A PART OF THE FOREVER YOURS HOLIDAY COLLECTION.
ALSO IN THIS COLLECTION:
* Bella’s Wish by International Bestselling Author Linzi Basset
* All’s Fair in Love and Spells by Victoria Escobar
*My Italian Valentine by the USA Today & International Bestselling Author Diana Nixon

Until February 12,
each book is on Pre-Order for just 99¢.
So hurry! You’ll want the whole collection.

Weekend Excerpt–Sneak Preview of BROKEN HARTS

Two weddings.
One Valentine’s Day.
And hearts will be broken.

A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s beyond cliché.
But it’s what Ali Hart’s niece Shannon wants. So Ali will wear the pink chiffon bridesmaid’s dress, carry the rose and eucalyptus bouquet down the aisle, and keep her opinion to herself.

Ali is back in New York to get ready for the wedding, but her older sister and brother seize on her visit as the perfect time for Ali to make arrangements for their elderly father, who can no longer independently care for himself.

A navigational error puts Ali on a collision course with destiny. Now what?

***
A wedding on Valentine’s Day? It’s perfect.
Unless you’re not positive that she’s the one for you.

In the dark recesses of his heart, Logan Pryce knows that Catherine von Hollen isn’t the love of his life. The daughter of his father’s business partner, they’ve known each other for years. She’s blonde, gorgeous, and everyone loves her. On paper, it’s perfect. On paper.

A chance encounter with a nameless redhead on a crowded subway platform causes Logan to question everything he thought his life was going to be. Will he stay with the safe bet, or will he take a chance on something more?

If you love your romance with a little heat and plenty of heart, you’re going to love Broken Harts!

Here’s a new, exclusive sneak peek at BROKEN HARTS.

Frowning, Ali swiped off her phone and resisted leaning into the woman beside her as the subway lurched around a bend. At least this time she’d gotten a seat, she consoled herself.

But Megan was on her last nerve with this wedding business.

Yes, she’d replied to her sister’s text. I’ll be at the bridal shop at 2:00. I told you I’d be there.

Moments later, her phone vibrated with another text. It was Shannon this time.

Sorry about Mom. She’s kinda freaking out right now. Thanks for putting up with her. My wedding wouldn’t be the same without you.

Ali had to smile. While she’d never had what she would call a close relationship with either her sister or her brother, she loved Megan’s daughter Shannon and her younger brother Kyle dearly. They’d all practically grown up together since Ali was merely two years older than her niece and three years older than her nephew. 

And she would. She’d make it to the fitting appointment on W. 69th, the day before Thanksgiving or not. Because it was important to Shannon, not because Megan insisted.

But first…

Ali absently twisted the strap of the shoulder bag resting on her lap and stared into space. Before the fitting appointment, she was making a little side trip on the upper east side. It hadn’t even been a conscious decision, really. 

After a restless night, she’d gotten up early, showered, and dressed in her least-faded skinny jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, her long camel-colored blazer, and black ankle boots. Her normal year-round Florida wardrobe consisted of lots of shorts, tank tops, and flip-flops, so wearing cold-weather clothes was a welcome change of pace.

At breakfast, her father had seemed very lucid. He’d announced plans to spend the morning writing, which Ali took to be a good thing. Again, she’d wondered whether Megan and Brendan were merely being alarmist. 

She spent an hour or so organizing her notes for the new book series she wanted to pitch to her publisher when they met the week after Thanksgiving. Then she popped into Jackson’s office where she found him tapping away at the old blue Remington manual typewriter, and she had to shake her head. No matter how hard she tried to convince her father to move into the 21st century, the old man remained defiant.

“This baby has never let me down. She’s never lost my blood, sweat, and tears into some goddamn black hole in space.”

“How’s it going, Dad?” she asked, placing her hands on his shoulders and kissing the top of his head.

He reached up and placed his left hand on top of hers. “Going fantastic, Ali-gally,” he grinned. “This may be the best one yet.”

“Good,” she nodded. “Listen, I’m heading out for a while. How about we order Chinese for dinner tonight? My treat?”

The old man nodded. “Sounds about right. I plan to keep plunking away right here while the muse is with me.”

Ali kissed the top of his head again. “Love you, Dad. I’ll see you later!”

Now, Ali watched as commuters hustled off and on the stopped subway car in an arrhythmic folk dance. Her heart began to pound noticeably. The next stop was hers, the wrong stop from the previous day. Now, she was headed to the 86th Street station on purpose.

This is ridiculous, she chided herself. He won’t be there. Why would he be there? Like he lives there at 86th Street or something. This is a colossal waste of time

She glanced at the time on her phone. It was 11:47, the same time she’d been on her way to the Golden Years center yesterday.

Hugging her purse to herself, she jiggled her right foot nervously. 

What, exactly, was the plan? She’d get off at 86th Street, look around the platform, not find him, the man from yesterday. Then what? Her appointment at the bridal shop wasn’t for another two hours. The trip to the upper west side would take half an hour, tops. What was she going to do in the meantime? 

This is such a dumb idea, she thought as the train slowed down to approach the next stop.

**

Shortly after 11:30, Logan hefted his tan leather messenger bag higher on his shoulder and stepped onto the down escalator at the 86th Street station. This felt increasingly like a fool’s errand, and more than once, he’d had to stop himself from turning around and heading home. But with the laser measuring tool tucked away in his bag, he figured he could at least do a few re-measurements to firm up the dimensions of the retail space.

Entering the platform, he glanced around and as expected, there was no pretty redhead in sight. He saw only a few commuters milling around waiting for the next train to arrive. 

Logan sighed heavily, swallowing his disappointment. 

It was too much to hope for, he supposed. Besides, you have a beautiful fiancee back in Chicago. Why in the world are you chasing some mystery woman?

Shaking his head, he dug the laser measurer out of his bag and headed toward the intended construction zone just as the next train rumbled into the station. Unable to help himself, he turned to watch the doors open and riders spill out onto the platform.

People of every shape and size and color and age moved with purpose toward the same escalator he’d descended only minutes before.

He almost turned back to his measurements when the crowd thinned and he saw her. The redhead from the previous day. She moved to the center of the space and stopped, her back to him as she stared in the direction of the wall where he’d waited for his clients twenty-four hours earlier.

He was moving toward her before he realized it. 

“Hey,” he offered softly when he was closer.

She whirled around, her cognac-brown eyes wide with surprise. “You’re here,” she breathed.

Logan felt himself smile. “You’re here, too.” 

She gave an uncertain laugh. “I’m, uh, Ali.” She offered a petite hand.

“I’m Logan,” he returned, gently accepting her handshake. “Listen, can we go for coffee or something?”

While he watched her rosy lips shift slightly as if she weighed his question, he relished the smattering of copper freckles across her nose and the apples of her cheeks. How had he not noticed them yesterday?

She finally nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good! Great! Let’s…” He motioned toward the escalator.

Her chuckle was musical. “Yes, lets!”

BROKEN HARTS by Pandora Spocks

BROKEN HARTS is one of four romance novellas in the FOREVER YOURS collection, coming this Valentine’s Day. And right now, each book is on pre-order for just 99¢ apiece!
Check them out!

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND SPELLS by Victoria Escobar
BELLA’S WISH by Linzi Basset
MY ITALIAN VALENTINE by Diana Nixon

Reserve your copies today!