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martes, 26 de enero de 2021

Fulfill your Bloody Vows

Hi, book buddies ☺ Her Majesty Lisa Renee Jones has a new suspense release. Come and take your Bloody Vows. 
 

Title: Bloody Vows
Series: Lilah Love #5
Author: Lisa Renee Jones
Release Date: January 26, 2021


The fifth book in the Lilah Love series…

FBI agent Lilah Love leads a complicated life. She's engaged to Kane Mendez, a man most call dangerous, but hey birds of a feather, do flock together. She's dangerous, too, and in ways only Kane understands. As for their happily ever after, well that might have to wait. Right now, an old enemy who should be dead is still living, Junior, her mystery letter writer, is stirring up trouble, and her family is trying to prove they're crazier than her. On top of that she has a new case: a dead woman in a bloody wedding dress. And since Lilah knows all too well there is no such thing as coincidence, clearly someone is sending her yet another message. 

Where to find it.

Enjoy an EXCERPT
By the time I’m in the garage at the house, Kane is waiting for me at the door. He studies me with intensity, intensely unreadable. He’s assessing, questioning, but not talking. God love him and his understanding of how I operate. 

I’m in my head. 

I need to stay there right now. 

He backs up to allow me to enter the back hallway and I’m quick to do just that. Once we’re both inside the warm house, I strip off my wet boots and he takes my coat before I follow him to the kitchen. I settle onto a barstool in front of the marbled island, while he prepares, and then hands me a hot Bailey’s coffee with whipped cream. Yes, the dark, dangerous Kane Mendez put whipped cream on my coffee. And still, we haven’t spoken a word. 

He joins me, claiming the spot next to me while I sip my coffee, the warm, sweet liquid sliding down my throat and helping me come down about two notches. 

Ready now, for more than my own mental ping-ponging of thoughts, I grab my phone, thumbing through photos until I find the image of the jar of blood. I set it in front of Kane. 

“That was left for me in the refrigerator of the crime scene.” 

He glances at it and then me, arching his dark brow. “The victim’s blood?” 

“Pig’s blood,” I say matter-of-factly. “That’s not confirmed, but it’s going to be pig’s blood. I know it.” 

He doesn’t freak out but then I don’t expect anything but calm, thoughtful contemplation from Kane. He doesn’t even ask why I make that assessment. He simply asks, “Is this Pocher or a Roger protégé?” 

Just that easily he’s already in my headspace. And the question spoken at just the right time grounds me in logic rather than the emotion that had me storming out of Emma’s kitchen ready to kill Pocher. 

“Logically,” I say, “the dress and the jar could point to either. Of course, my first reaction was Pocher. We just found out he came back. And when I saw that dead woman and then saw the jar of blood, I was ready to kill him.” 

“Andrew influenced that. He already believed it was Pocher when he called you to the scene.” 

“True. And it could be Pocher.” 

“But your gut isn’t reading it that way. I can tell.” 

I sip my coffee and add, “With the dress, and without the jar of blood, this would have read like a classic jealousy crime. The groom was already neglecting the bride and she had a side dude. And yet, it wasn’t a crime of rage. We’re not even sure how the woman died.” 

“Meaning what?” 

“She seemed to have a rupture from her throat, but there was no obvious cut.” 

“Poison?” he asks. 

“The new medical examiner doesn’t think so.” My cellphone rings with Lucas’s number where it still lays between me and Kane. His jaw clenches. 

“I called him to hack for me, and he’s coming to dinner. And before you scowl, he was going to be alone, Kane.” 

He downs his coffee, every last drop, and stands up, his spine stiff. Fuck. I answer the call on speaker. It’s better that way, with Kane’s ear where my ears are right now. “Lucas,” I say, and I don’t warn him that Kane is in the room. If he’s not smart enough to figure that out, he deserves whatever he gets. “What do you have for me?” 

“I pulled Danica and North’s records. I’m sending them in a secure file by maildrop for you to accept. But there’s nothing exceptional there to see. And before you bitch, I’m digging deeper, but that will take time.” 

“What about the victim and the men in her life?” 

“Both her dead husband and her fiancé have donated to various Pocher-driven campaigns. That was easy to pull. Her fiancé has actually donated to your father’s campaign. But Lilah, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone in this town who hasn’t pandered to Pocher’s power. And that’s all I have now. I’m drunk. I’m still drinking. No more updates tonight.” 

“Yes, but—” 

“No,” he says, “and I’m hanging up.” He disconnects. 

I grimace and I’d call him back, but I decide better. 

Kane at this point has filled a whiskey glass and is leaning on the counter in front of the sink. I stand up and close the space between us. I step directly in front of him and he downs his drink and sets the glass down. His hands are on the counter behind him. He doesn’t even think about touching me and I know it’s about Lucas. Which is exactly why I want him to know that I’m not thinking about Lucas, but rather those donations that connect Emma’s fiancé to my father. And I’m thinking about his words, his declaration that we’re dangerous to the Society. “What if—” 

He grabs me and pulls me to him. “If you say that woman died because we’re together, and turn this into another reason to take off my ring, I swear to God, Lilah, I’m done.” 

I can be hard. I can be cold. I can apparently be a killer. But I love Kane Mendez. He’s hard, too. He’s cold as ice. He’s forever in control. But he’s not those things with me. And it’s in this moment, for the first time ever, I realize how much I hurt him when I left him. Just how much I cut him. 

“I regret every moment we were apart more than you can know. I’m not taking off the ring, Kane.” My hands settle on his chest. “Not ever. I’m not—” 

His mouth closes down on mine, his hand on the back of my head, and just that easily, he reminds me I’m human again, capable of wanting, loving, needing, and forgetting all but the moment. But more so, he reminds me that he’s human. He isn’t always in control. He has emotions, torment I can taste on his tongue, even desperation he’d allow no other human to know he’s capable of feeling. I’ve pushed him away. I’ve hurt him. But I’ve always loved him and he doesn’t yet know that I’m done fighting against this, against us. 

He just doesn’t know that. 

And that’s a problem. 

Kane picks me up and I don’t fight him. He has this thing about taking me to his bed, now our bed, as if that establishes some sort of ownership of me and us. Not that I could ever be owned, but deep down, I know we own each other. We always have. We always will. And if that’s what he needs, to feel that ownership, I’m not at war with him. I’m at war with Pocher and the Society. But he doesn’t take me upstairs and to the bedroom. He walks to the living room, neutral territory, and I understand his message. The tide has shifted. The demands have changed. Either I’m in this as his equal or I’m not in this at all. And neither is he.

THE SERIES

MURDER NOTES (book one) - FREE 

MURDER GIRL (book two) - Available Now 

LOVE ME DEAD (book three) - Available Now 
Paperback → http://mybook.to/LMDPB

LOVE KILLS (book four) - Available Now 
Paperback → http://mybook.to/LKPB

BLOODY VOWS (book five) - NEW RELEASE 

BLOODY LOVE (book six) - Coming June 29, 2021 

ABOUT THE MASTERMIND

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones writes dark, edgy fiction including the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series and the upcoming, crime thriller The Poet. Suzanne Todd (producer of Alice in Wonderland and Bad Moms) on the INSIDE OUT series: Lisa has created a beautiful, complicated, and sensual world that is filled with intrigue and suspense. 

Prior to publishing Lisa owned a multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine. She lives in Colorado with her husband, a cat that talks too much, and a Golden Retriever who is afraid of trash bags.

CONNECT WITH LISA

💕 

Enjoy your reading time. 

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martes, 23 de junio de 2020

Play me A RECKLESS NOTE

Hi, book buddies :-) I'm so excited to tell you about the new Brilliance trilogy by Lisa Renee Jones! It is full of mystery and romance and musical secrets. In my photo, I show you the stunning cover of the hardback, but carry on to have a look at the sensual cover of the e- books. 💜

A RECKLESS NOTE

Series: The Brilliance Trilogy #1
Author: Lisa Renee Jones
Release Date: June 23, 2020


MY OPINION

What a captivating romance. I swear this author is a treasure trope of addictive stories.

This book, first in a trilogy, beckons me with its elegant narrative, sophisticated mystery, and the allure of violin music that sings of sun and passion and dark secrets.

It's the story of a woman who procures expensive items, who is now in search of her own roots too long denied and also of someone she cherishes, someone still inspiring her to be bolder and grab some happiness for herself.

I loved how both her spirit and the mystery bloom in small, enticing, provocative dosis. Aria has a past steeped in tragedy and music, and I felt really engaged in finding out everything about it. As she tries to find answers, she goes to places and talks to people in scenes that I found fascinating. Suspense touches every moment, and a tangible sensuality drenches each scene where she interacts with godlike Kace August. That man could melt a statue with his talent.

I love it when playing musical instruments is another character in the plot, infusing the text with beautiful words and feelings. I really enjoyed seeing many familiar characters, the opening chapter with its heart-wrenching confession, and the slow-burn relationship that’s as brilliant as it is seductive.

Aria and Kace are mesmerised by each other. This bond trascends the pages and explodes into a thrilling and passionate dalliance. Will it be real love or a masquerade? I am dying to find out in the next book because this one ends in a compelling cliffhanger that opens up so many possibilities!
Favourite quotes:
We are two ships on a stormy sea, looking for our lighthouse in each other.

In his darkness is my freedom. And I have been caged for so very long.

A Reckless Note
by Lisa Renee Jones

WHAT IS THIS ABOUT?

Passion, seduction, and my family’s secret that could change everything. I went looking for my missing brother, but I found him: Kace August. He's dark. He's dangerous. He makes me want things I can’t have and brings me into a world of forbidden seduction. But I just can't seem to walk away.

Amazon → http://mybook.to/RecklessNote
Apple → https://apple.co/34pvt4o
Nook → http://bit.ly/34pLTtA
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2pAlvOO
Audio → https://adbl.co/2UprCSc
Paperback → http://mybook.to/RecklessNotePB  


ENJOY AN EXCERPT

I kiss him with abandon, with passion. I kiss him with my own demand, and then he tears his mouth from mine and backs me up until I’m pressed against his grand piano. “What are you doing to me?” he demands.

“This,” I say, pressing my hands under his T-shirt.

In reply, he tugs the shirt over his head and tosses it aside. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” I say with no hesitation, my hand caressing the musical notes on his arm, tattoos that say he claims who he is, he embraces who he is. I want this man. I give myself permission to own my desires the way he owns me just by being in the same room as me. And I’m not afraid of that. Not here. Not now. Not this night.

He grips the piano behind me, “Do you know what I want, Aria?”

There’s an edge to him again now, a dark edge that shouldn’t appeal to me, but it does, it so does. I ask the question he’s demanded. “What do you want, Kace?”  

“Too much,” he says. “Too much, Aria.”

He means it. It’s in this moment that I understand the hot and cold I’ve experienced with this man is far more than I realized. He wants me. He doesn’t want to want me. He doesn’t believe I should be here. My defenses flare and my hand presses to his bare chest. “Why am I here then? You don’t want me here.”

“I want you, Aria. Very much. Too much. That’s the point.”

“But you don’t want me here.”

He cups my face and stares down at me, the hardness, somehow tender. “I do very much want you here.”

“You’re confusing me.”

“The feeling is mutual, baby,” he says, his voice thick with emotion that I don’t understand, that I’m not sure I’ll ever understand. But it moves me. He moves me and I reach up and cup his hand on my face.

“What are we doing, Kace?” I whisper.

He leans in and brushes his lips over my lips, a feather-light seduction that trembles through me. “This.” His mouth closes down on mine and his tongue licks past my teeth, a long, deep stroke that is seduction and power, passion, and dominance. I’m panting when his lips part from mine, linger there, his finger stroking my cheek.

“You, woman,” he murmurs, a hint of torment in his voice. “You are going to be my undoing.”
I don’t know what that means, and I don’t have time to analyze it anyway. Not when he reaches up and catches the zipper at the front of my dress, and heat pools low in my belly, every inch of me alive. I am alive with this man, a ball of nerves and desire like I have never known. Slowly, so very slowly, he lowers it, but his gaze is locked with my gaze. The zipper slides past my belly and halts at the top of my thighs.

His hands settle at my waist, and he leans in and kisses me. I can taste that dark edge on his tongue again, I can taste the demand, the absolute control. In this moment, I remain acutely aware of how much that control arouses me, how much it calls to me.

His lips leave mine, the hunger in his stare ravenous, but I have this sense that this is still about control to him—he allows me to see this. His control is a need, an absolute need that I understand. It’s the kind of need that we aren’t born with. It’s created. I find myself in contradiction to what I need, in wanting to give him what he wants. I am in fact wet and trembling with the idea of giving him the control.

But that means trust, the kind of trust that has left me alone and that I give no one.

And yet I am here with him. Haven’t I already made the decision to trust him, not with my secrets, but with my body?

His hands go to my shoulders, sliding under my dress, scooting the straps halfway down my arms. He captures me with the material, holds me with one hand, but I’m not thinking about being held captive. I’m thinking about his lips lingering above mine again, his breath a warm tease that promises a taste that does not come. He doesn’t kiss me. I want him to kiss me, I want it so badly that it hurts.

But still, he doesn’t.

He pulls back, his gaze lowering to the swell of my breasts, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin just above the black lace of my bra, my nipples puckering beneath the silk. His gaze lifts to mine and he catches the front clasp of my bra. He shoves aside the cups, his attention returning to my breasts, and my lashes lower with the heat of his inspection, a wave of unexpected shyness overtaking me. He has this way of making me feel owned and it’s intense, so very intense. 

THE EXCITING SERIES


A Wicked Song (book two) – August 18, 2020
Amazon → http://mybook.to/WickedSong
Apple → https://apple.co/2NAiB4E
Nook → http://bit.ly/2r2v5u1
Kobo → http://bit.ly/34nJEa4
Audio → https://adbl.co/2AmG46T

A Sinful Encore (book three) – September 22, 2020
Amazon → http://mybook.to/SinfulEncore  
Apple → https://apple.co/2JHJX7R
Nook → http://bit.ly/2JKITQB
Kobo → http://bit.ly/2PIwEaW
Audio → https://adbl.co/3dYRUTa

ABOUT THE MASTERMIND


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series.

In addition to the success of Lisa's INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is also the author of the bestselling WHITE LIES and LILAH LOVE series.

Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women's Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Goodreads ➜ https://www.goodreads.com/LisaReneeJones

*
Enjoy your life as much as you can :-)

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jueves, 26 de marzo de 2020

Taste his Beefcakes

Hi, book buddies ☺ 
This book sounds yummy and hilarious. 
What do you think?

Things are about to get sticky... 



Beefcakes, an all-new hilarious,

second-chance standalone romance 

from Katana Collins.


9.11_Beefcakes

I might as well permanently add the label "Ex" to my name. I'm an Ex-Mr. Universe. Ex-Mr. Olympus. An Ex-Hollywood Stuntman. But no one from my small hometown cares anything about that. They only care that I'm the ex-boyfriend to the beloved Mayor's daughter, Elaina Dyker.
And now, ten years later, I'm back, helping my siblings run my mother's bakery while she takes on chemo. What should have been a routine cupcake delivery turns into utter chaos when the bachelorette party thinks I'm a stripper. And what's worse? Elaina is the maid of honor.
But the meme about us sure went viral fast. My small hometown has become positively infested with tipsy bridesmaids looking for my erotic cupcakes.
Now Hollywood's knocking again—and this time they want me and my ex, Mr. Beefcake and Ms. Prude, to star in a reality show.
It could solve all my problems—except her.


WHERE TO FIND IT 

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/Beefakeskc

 Add BEEFCAKES to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2T8PhX4

Beefcakes - Teaser 3 PO

ENJOY AN EXCERPT 

  I arched my brow at her. “I bragged about knowing you so well…but man. I did not see this almond croissant massacre coming. What do you have against almonds? Or was it the amount of butter that offended you? Because as a fitness expert, let me tell you butter isn’t the enemy. Sugar is the enemy.” She laughed. “I, uh…I might have some anger management issues.” I took the bag from her and peeked in. There were knuckle marks against the outside of the croissant. Literal knuckle marks. I barked a laugh. 

“Elaina Dyker. Did you punch the croissant?” She laughed, pressing her lips together as though this would hide the fact that I saw her adorable little giggle. She brought her thumb and forefinger up beside her temple. “Maybe a little.”“Did you even try a bite?” She shook her head no. “I like my routine. I like my daily lunch of yogurt and almonds.” I made a face. Because she had to be exaggerating. Sure…she liked them. But having that same thing every day? Even chocolate cake every day would get tedious. “You can like yogurt and almonds but still indulge every now and then, you know.” I reached in and pinched off a piece of the smashed croissant, holding it out toward her lips. “C’mon. Live a little. I promise you, it is actually healthy, if that’s your concern.” Not that she needed to be concerned about that. “Almond flour. Gluten free. Grain free. Only two net carbs. The only sugar is the honey in the honey roasted almonds and the natural sugar in dates.” 

Her eyes grew wide at that and I knew I had hooked her.  She reached out her hand to take the piece of croissant from me, but I pulled back. “Nuh-uh,” I teased. “We can’t have your fingers getting sticky. Might ruin that fancy suit you’re wearing.”   She rolled her eyes, but parted her wet lips, her tongue peeking out just enough for me to place the croissant on top of. She moaned as soon as it hit her mouth, and her eyes fell closed as she slowly chewed and swallowed. “That’s…that’s healthy?” I nodded. “See? I’m not just a pile of muscles. I’ve got some talent, too.” Her head fell to the side. “I never said you weren’t talented. I just wish you wouldn’t show off quite so much of your other assets.”

I grinned. “I thought you liked my assets?” “I do,” she answered absentmindedly, then immediately shook her head, realizing what she’d said. “I mean, I did.”

  KC - Photo

ABOUT THE MASTERMIND 

 As an author and a story-teller, it is the lifeblood to which my ideas take flight. And I believe in giving credit where credit is due. Occasionally someone (ie – my husband) will try to secretly switch out my beloved regular coffee for decaf. I always know the difference. ALWAYS (I’m looking at you, SEAN). I am incapable of achieving the perfect ponytail. 
I’m dyslexic. I can never wear white without spilling on myself. And I’ve never read Pride and Prejudice (gasp!). When I was younger and stole my mother’s Harlequins to read beneath the covers with a flashlight (seriously, did we ALL do this? I think we did.), I wanted to read about the tough as nails heroine. The perfectly imperfect girl with quirks and attitude and sass. And the anti-heroes who were anything but “Prince Charming.” Forget the knight on a white horse… give me the bad boy on a motorcycle.
So, now, I write those romance novels I craved to see on the shelves all those years ago—the sassy heroines. The badass heroes. I spend my days in the throes of my imagination, and am loving every minute of it. I can travel anywhere and become anyone I want to be. One day, I’m a mechanic in Boston and the next, I’m a vampire stripping in Las Vegas. Since penning my first novel back in 2012, I’m now an international author with 15 published books, in a wide range of contemporary romance genres–(Paranormal, New Adult, Small town, Erotic Suspense… you name it!).
After living for a decade in Brooklyn, NY, I took the plunge and moved to beautiful (although kinda chilly) Portland, Maine. I now live full time in ‘Vacationland’ with a kind of mean cat, a mellow chihuahua, and a very NOT mellow lab-pittie mix. Oh, yeah… there’s a husband who draws comics somewhere in that mix, too.  I can usually be found in a coffee shop with my nose in my laptop wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.
I love connecting with readers and fellow sassy storytellers, so feel free to drop me an email at katana.collins@gmail.com or connect with me on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter (@katanacollins). 
You can find a list of my available books over on my Bookshelf  or if you’ve already read a book, it would make my day if you wrote a review! Threats, complaints, and criticisms should go to comments@fbi.gov.


Connect with Katana

Join her reader group, Kat’s Kittens: http://bit.ly/2QvrP4P
Stay up to date with Katana by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2QQe0wM

💕

Enjoy your reading time  😘 

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martes, 14 de mayo de 2019

A woman, a man, and A Perfect Lie

Hi, book buddies ☺ We start today with the latest release by smart author Lisa Renee Jones. Come and find out about A Perfect Lie. 





Secrets. Lies. A man. There's always a man. And there's always a truth to be told. 

I'm Hailey Anne Monroe. I’m twenty-eight years old. An artist, who found her muse on the canvas because I wasn’t allowed to have friends or even keep a journal. And yes, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’m that Hailey Anne Monroe, daughter to Thomas Frank Monroe, the man who was a half-percentage point from becoming President of the United States. If you were able to ask him, he’d probably tell you that I was the half point. But you can’t ask him, and he can’t tell you. He’s dead. They’re all dead and now I can speak.

ENJOY AN EXCERPT 
“Can I join you?” he asks, motioning to the table. There’s interest in his eyes, the kind a man has for a woman, but who knows, maybe it’s real or maybe it’s not real. Maybe he knows who I am and sees a path to power and fame. The way Tobey wanted me for money and power, right up until the moment I’d called his number aka his agenda; thus, he has not called me since I left. Maybe Harvard will lie even better than Tobey did. Maybe Harvard will at least kiss better than he did, and the lies would taste like temptation rather than convenience. At least then, if I’m used, I’ll enjoy being used. Whatever the case, it’s clear I might actually be angry with Tobey and that aside, the interest that Harvard has shown in me, must be controlled before my Denver sanctuary is destroyed.

“You can join me,” I say, “but only because I’m trying to save the rest of the place from the attorney in the house.” I am pleased when Harvard laughs, where Tobey would have scowled, proving that Harvard has a sense of humor, which is rare for those in my life. I’ve barely completed this thought when he moves forward and claims the seat next to me, not across from me, settling his briefcase on that chair instead. In the process, his leg brushes my leg and for the briefest of moments, I’m transported back to the place that I’m now trying to forget: to Austin, to Drew’s leg next to mine, his wink, and I do now what I did then. I jerk back. If Harvard notices he doesn’t react. “Since we haven’t been formally introduced,” he says, resting his naked hands on the table. “I’m Logan. Logan Casey.”

 “Logan Casey,” I repeat trying to ground myself in the present, at least for now, but some part of me is still swimming in that memory, which naturally has me wondering if this man is a shark in the water around me. “Two first names,” I add. “Sounds like your parents fought over who got to pick your first name. Did they draw straws for which choice became your middle name?” “You’re actually right on target,” he says, laughing again, and it’s a nice, masculine laugh, and oddly this thought feels familiar while Logan does not. “No one has ever guessed that,” he adds. “My mother won the name war. The women always win. Speaking of names. Do you have one?” “Hailey Anne Pitt,” I say, “and in my house, my father won the name war.” Because in my father’s world, I add silently, the women don’t win the wars. At least, not that he knows, not in an obvious way. I’ve learned this well. “Well then, Hailey Anne Pitt,” he says, “what’s a Stanford girl like you, doing in a place like this? You’re a long way from school.” I’m smacked in the face with a lesson I’ve long ago learned and forgotten with this man; strangers do not always remain strangers and all offhanded remarks can come back to haunt you.

 “That was a joke,” I say, shutting the door connected to my real life, and a path that leads to my father. “I hate attorneys, remember?” He narrows his eyes on me, and for no reason other than instinct, I believe he’s looking for a lie that he won’t find. I’m simply too well-taught from birth, too skilled at being more than one person to allow such a detection. Well that, and the fact that I really do hate attorneys, which is why I’ll be a good one. “That was a joke?” he confirms. “Yes,” I say. “Are you amused?” “Yes, actually. I am. What does a lawyer-hating smart ass like yourself do for a living?” “When not busy taunting those who went to law school,” I say. “I’m an aspiring artist.” Both honest answers, if you put a “was” in front of the “aspiring artist” which I’d thought that I’d come to terms with, but the knot in my stomach says I have not. Logan motions toward the art room. “Your career explains why you ended up here.”

 “I guess it does,” I say, as this place serves me well to reconnecting to the Pitt part of my life, which is a place I really need to be right now, for all kinds of reasons. “Are you good?” Logan asks, as if he’s read my mind. My father’s words answer him in my head. Art is useless unless you’re famous, he used to say often, because of course, it was inconceivable that I might be good enough to be famous. “Art is like movies and food,” I say, shoving aside that bad memory. “Good is subjective.” I don’t give him time to reply. I ping the conversation back toward him. “What kind of law do you practice?” “Corporate,” he says, and this time he pings back to me. “Do you live in the neighborhood?” “Yes,” I say simply. “Do you?” “I bought a building a few years ago where I live and work which means this is my home turf, and why I know you’re new here.” “I am,” I say and since he’s clearly going to ask for details, I quickly preempt with an on-the-fly story. Actually, it’s the suggested story, Rudolf included in my file.

“I came here for a job, and my new boss owns a house he’s rented to me for dirt cheap.” “And what does an artist do but create art for a living?” “I’m working for a private art acquisitions firm. I now hunt for treasures for a living.” This lie is actually my dream job that I’ve never been allowed to entertain. The horror flick loving waitress delivers my coffee and brownie. “Thank you,” I say, because every politician’s daughter has manners beaten into her. “No problem,” she says, “but if you come to your senses and want a better version of that coffee, just shout.” She eyes Logan. “I already know you want a crappy tasting coffee, on endless pour and a chocolate chip cookie. Coming right up.” “Thanks, Megan,” he says, giving her a wink that I don’t classify as flirtatious, just friendly, and Megan is gone. “Obviously you’re a regular,” I comment, “and they even like you.” “And they like me,” he confirms, “despite knowing I’m an attorney. “Because you’re good looking and use it to your advantage.”

 He arches a brow. “You think I’m good looking, do you?” “Oh, come on,” I say, crinkling my nose. “Everyone thinks you’re good looking. I’m simply stating a fact. We use what we have and those of us that are smart, know what we have.” I move on from what is really quite inconsequential. “Why work here, not at home, or in the office?” “I find I get a lot of work done with a cookie, coffee, and no access to streaming television,” he explains. No one in my D.C. crowd would make an admission of being human and distractible. Some people in my situation might take comfort in that fact, but I don’t. Logan’s an attorney, and my gut, which I’ll confirm with research, says he’s a powerful one, the kind that radiates toward my father. Maybe that’s a coincidence and maybe it’s not. Maybe he’s testing how well I execute my cover story. The possibilities are many. Though in all fairness to Logan, perhaps I’d lean toward his innocence, if not for the laundry list of recent events such as Tobey being gay and the FBI agent, who is likely working for my father, that I slept with to prove I was a) still desirable and b) not a killer.


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series.
In addition to the success of Lisa's INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is also the author of the bestselling WHITE LIES and LILAH LOVE series.

Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women's Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.

Goodreads ➜ https://www.goodreads.com/LisaReneeJones

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