✮✮✮SECOND CHANCES, HOPE, & RED-HOT CHEMISTRY…FIRE IN YOU, the final book in the #1 New York Times bestselling Wait For You World is here! Don’t Miss Brock and Jillian’s passionate and richly moving story in this standalone contemporary romance!✮✮✮
Let the FIRE IN YOU burn and grab your copy today!
About FIRE IN YOU:
From the # 1 New York Times and International bestselling author comes a richly moving story about heartbreak and guilt, second chances and hope. Full of familiar, fan-favorite characters and no two people more deserving of a happy ending, Fire In You will burn bright beyond the last page…
Jillian Lima’s whole world was destroyed in a span of a few hours. The same night her childhood love, Brock ‘the Beast’ Mitchell, broke her heart, her life was irrevocably altered by the hand of a stranger with a gun. It takes six years to slowly glue together the shattered pieces of her life, but Jillian is finally ready to stop existing in a past full of pain and regret. She takes a job at her father’s martial arts Academy and she’s going out on her first date since a failed relationship that was more yuck than yum. Jillian is determined to start living.
She just never expected Brock to be a part of her life again. But he’s firmly back in her life before she knows it, and not only is he older, he’s impossibly more handsome, more teasing and more everything. And when he sees Jillian, he’s no longer capable of thinking of her as the little girl who was his shadow growing up or the daughter of the man who gave him a second chance at life. He sees the woman who’d always been there for him, the one person who believed in him no matter what.
Brock knows she’s the one he should’ve made his, and what begins as a tentative friendship quickly turns to red-hot chemistry that sparks a flame that burns brighter than lust. Falling for Brock again risks more than her heart, because when the sorrow-filled and guilt-ridden past resurfaces, and a web of lies threatens to rip them apart, the fallout could lay waste to everything they’ve fought to build together, and destroy the dreams of those they care most about.
Order a digital or paperback copy of FIRE IN YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout, writing as J.Lynn, AND fill out THIS FORM by December 3rd, and get an exclusive bonus scene-an Epilogue featuring POVs from all the major couples throughout the Wait For You World!
FIRE IN YOU will be available in paperback and eBook November 28th, 2016!
Just enter your name, age, email address, and the order number from your digitalor paperback pre-order receipt at https://a.pgtb.me/M7KhMCto receive your exclusive FIRE IN YOU bonus scene! All entrants will receive the bonus scene on December 5th, 2016 through email using the email given when the entrant filled out THIS FORM.
Making my way through the narrow pathways between the tables, I headed back toward the bathroom. Only once I pushed open the double doors and stopped in front of the water-spotted mirror did I realize I’d left my purse at the table, so there’d be no reapplying my lipstick.
I pumped soap onto my hands and waved them under the facet. Water flowed, washing away the suds as I slowly lifted my gaze to my reflection. Normally when I looked at myself, I didn’t really pay attention longer than was necessary to put makeup on without ending up looking like a tutorial gone wrong.
Standing here now, I really looked at myself, though.
I used to wear my hair up all the time, but I’d stopped doing that every day. My hair now hung in waves and the ends curled over the tips of my breasts. I also used to have heavy bangs, but thank God they were long gone. I’d finally learned how to put on eyeliner. That was another miracle. The slight flush of my face darkened my naturally tan skin. My lips were fuller and my nose straight.
My hair was parted to sweep to the left so it shielded my cheek…and my cheek didn’t look that bad, especially considering how it looked the first time I’d seen it after…after days in the hospital.
Hell, my entire face had been one hot mess.
There was a deep indentation in my left cheek, almost like an icepick had been shoved in there, and as I stared at my right jaw line, I was still amazed by what reconstructive plastic surgeons could accomplish. Half my face had literally been pieced back together with an iliac crest graft with a reconstruction plate and a crap ton of dentistry to give me back a full set of functional teeth.
Plastic surgeons didn’t have magic wands, but they were magicians. If you weren’t looking at me straight on, you’d have no idea that my right jaw was thinner than my left.
You’d have no idea what had happened to me that night.
Now I stared back at myself just like I had done that night, six years ago, standing in a bathroom, mere minutes before my entire life came crashing down.
It wasn’t that I hated the way I looked now. The fact that I was alive meant I was one of those rare, walking and breathing statistics.
But even knowing how lucky I was didn’t change the fact that I felt…deformed. That was a harsh word to use. I didn’t like to whip it out often. Doing so on what was so far a pretty good date was probably not a good idea.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. I didn’t need my thoughts going in that direction tonight. So far, the dinner had been amazing. Grady was nice and he was cute. I could maybe see myself going out with him again, to an art exhibit, and maybe coffee.
And that was what had freaked me out.
I was not going to let living freak me out.
I could give him a chance and not worry about whether or not I was settling.
Turning from the sink, I dried my hands and then readjusted my hair so it fell forward, over my left shoulder and cheek. I walked out of the bathroom and into the narrow hall, gaze trained on the floor as I took about two steps before I realized someone was standing right outside the door, leaning against the wall. Before I nearly plowed into him.
Gasping, I took a step back. All I could see were finely cut black trousers paired with…with old black and white Chucks? What an odd combination, but those shoes reminded me of…
I gave a little shake of my head and stepped to the side. “Sorry. Excuse—”
Everything stopped except my heart, because it was suddenly pounding in my chest too hard, too fast. That deep, rough voice. I recognized it all the way to my very core. Slowly, I lifted my gaze, already knowing what I was going to see but refusing to believe it.
Brock Mitchell stood in front of me.
About Jennifer L. Armentrout:
# 1 New York Times and # 1 International Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. She spends her time reading, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki.
Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV. Jennifer has won numerous awards, including the 2013 Reviewers Choice Award for Wait for You, the 2015 Editor’s Pick for Fall With Me, and the 2014/2015 Moerser-Jugendbuch- Jury award for Obsidian. Her young adult romantic suspense novel DON’T LOOK BACK was a 2014 nominated Best in Young Adult Fiction by YALSA.
She also writes Adult and New Adult contemporary and paranormal romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.
Her mother died. Her two sisters loathed her. One aunt hated her. The other was strangely distant, but the worst storm—being dumped by her childhood best friend/high school boyfriend/first love for her younger sister.
There went the one person who was hers and with that, the main reason she stuck around. So, she left for ten years. But now she’s back, and nothing’s the same.
With help from Jonah Bannon, a reformed—kind of—bad boy she remembers from high school, Dani uncovers family secrets that have spanned generations. And along with those, she’s about to face the biggest sh*t storm of her life.
Only this time, she may not survive.
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But it was. She felt it in her chest. It was so important, and she needed him to say it again. She was salivating for the chance. She wanted to reassure him, and this time she felt it in her heart. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted him to see it in her eyes, that she meant every single word.
She whispered now, “Ask me. Ask me again.”
His eyes met hers, narrowing slightly. He was looking into her, reading her.
She was letting him. There was no wall, no hesitation this time. She wanted him to know her, not just her body. All of her. A second passed. He was still searching in her. Another second. More. He waited a full thirty before asking, his voice so soft and tender, “What would you do if you found out another person cared about you? If you mattered to one more person?”
“Nothing.” She was trying to convey her feelings through her eyes. She wanted him to know so badly. “I wouldn’t run. I wouldn’t walk. I wouldn’t hide. I’d do nothing except stand and embrace it.”
His eyes darkened, an emotion passed in them, one that had her heart beating so fast again. “Yeah?” He let go of her hand, but touched the side of her face. He held her in the palm of his hand, and his thumb rubbed over her cheek. It was like he was smoothing away any lingering worries she might have. “What if I was that person?”
She leaned toward him, her eyes going from his lips back to his gaze. Both were pulling her in, making her yearn for more. “Then I’d say, I feel the same.” Her breath held in her throat. They were talking in code, but it was out now. She was telling him how she felt, and a second later, his lips were on hers.
This. She turned, wound her arms around his neck. This was everything.
Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing Fallen Crest Six (untitled) along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.
Gage Synclair, international, hard-hitting investigative photojournalist, is preparing for the final special report of his career…a story of deception and murder six long years in the making. And after ten years in some of the worst parts of the world, he’s ready to settle life down and open an art gallery in his hometown of Chicago. The only thing getting in his way, he needs to find a competent electrician to finish the job before his grand opening.
Trent Cooper, electrical contractor, is surprised by the last minute request for a fast-paced electrical remodel, wanting nothing more than to get his foot in the door with Layne Construction. Being gay in the construction industry isn’t easy, nor is being father to his two young adopted children. Trent keeps his life in separate zones to avoid a short circuit. But when the gallery owner propositions him on the first day, Trent can’t help but think his worlds are a little too close for comfort.
Will their high-voltage passion spark everlasting love or will their lives break the circuit between them forever?
WHAT OTHERS ARE SAYING
“Highly recommended read... what are you waiting for, get a wriggle on and discover for yourself what a great book it is!” - Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews “...a really good M/M with great steamy romance, cute kids, a thrilling resolution and several unexpected turns” - Reader Review “This is seriously hot romantic MM story. It has a nice mixture of mystery and suspense to add to the page turn-ability.” - Reader Review
Best Selling Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica in both the male/male and male/female genres. It's always a surprise to see what's coming next!
I live in the suburbs of Dallas where it's true, the only thing bigger than an over active imagination, may be women's hair!
Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life - I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations - regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal... I don't want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I'm going to tell you about Kindle.
I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I'll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died - weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn't have to be alone.
That time in my life was terrible. It's everything you think it would be times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.
Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness - it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. It never happened.
Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to begin to write with a dear friend in the fan fiction world of Facebook. She got me through those dark days with her unwavering support and friendship. There wasn't a time she wasn't there for me. Sometimes together and sometimes by myself, we built a world where Kindle lives and stands for peace, love and harmony. It's its own kind of support group. I know without question I wouldn't be here today without her.
Find out more by visiting www.kindlealexander.com or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Angie is a survivor. Anything you could throw at her, she could overcome.
After her father left her like a pile of unwanted trash, she began fighting. Fighting to build a life. Fighting to keep her child. Fighting to matter.
She thought she had it all figured out.
Then Bowen Race Tannenbaum walks into her life, turning it into a flurry of confusion, hope, and then ultimately despair. He tore down, brick-by-brick, her carefully constructed world, leaving her heart in tatters and longing for more. Such as a happily ever after, something that wasn’t ever going to happen for her. Not when she couldn’t give him what he wanted. He’d break her, and she couldn’t be put back together a second time.
Bowe wasn’t always so jaded, but when you keep drawing a losing hand, it tends to affect a man. He didn’t mean to lash out so carelessly. But he was so over being told no. He was done being lied to. He was through with being cheated on.
This time, his heart was getting what it wanted. If Angie wasn’t able to see what he was offering, what was right here in front of her, well then, he’d just have to damn well show her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Booth asked, following me.
I turned my head only far enough so he could see my glare.
Obviously, though, the glare didn’t’ have the intended affect when he continued to walk into the room, parking his ass in the bunk straight across from mine.
Sure, the bunk was his, and I wasn’t the only one who shared this room, but I wasn’t up for any chatter. Especially after the night I’d had.
“You gonna make me guess?” He continued as if I wasn’t ignoring him.
“You’re a persistent bastard,” I grumbled, turning my head to face the wall.
“Come on, you know you want to talk to your best friend, Booth.” He teased.
I tossed the man a look.
“You’re not my best friend.” I told him.
He pouted, and I sighed, rolling until I was on my back, very carefully since it seemed the bed was about the same width as my back.
“I’ve completely and utterly failed in getting the woman I want to go out with me to even hold a conversation with me for longer than a minute.” I told him. “I saw her last night—with another man—and I don’t know what to do to get her to see me.”
Booth’s mouth fell open.
“You’re shitting me.”
I shook my head, feeling heat hit my face as I did.
“But…you’re the dream boat. You’re the man that Masen tells me all the time is the hottest guy at the firehouse. You literally could have anyone that you wanted. What’s the deal?” He kicked his feet up so they were resting on the side of mine.
“Nothing to tell. I’m just…awkward.”
“Awkward, how?” He persisted. “Awkward as in you can’t talk to a woman awkward, or awkward in which you accidentally whip your dick out of your pants to break the ice instead of using your big boy words?”
I tossed him a look. “She was shot…or something. I have the girl in the back of the ambulance with her shirt off and all I can do is stare at the scars on her abdomen. My staring kept me from asking her anything when I had the chance. Now that I’ve decided that she’s worth losing my favorite mechanic’s trust, I’ve done everything I could to speak with her, and she still ignores me.”
“Where does she work?” He asked.
“The hospital and for her brother. You know her.” I cleared my throat. “It’s Angie.”
Booth stared at me for all of two seconds before he fell backwards to the cot.
I laughed, zero humor in my voice.
“Yeah, I know."
The tones dropped indicating a call was coming through for us.
We both paused in our conversations, and I cursed when I heard what it was.
“Mother fucker.” I sighed. “This has to be a fucking joke.”
Booth’s face showed the way he felt about the call that had come in just like I was sure mine was as well.
“This is some fucking cosmic joke, isn’t it?” I asked.
Hurrying to my feet, I jogged lightly to the bay where my turnout gear was located.
Despite this being a medical call, we were still required to put our gear on.
Which was why I was sweating my balls off when we finally arrived at Soco Garage, the very same garage that none other than Angie Soco also worked.
Aaron don’t ever call me Fatbaby’ Sims is lucky to be alive. Or at least that is what everyone keeps telling him. He doesn’t feel lucky, though.
He’s scarred, has more than a little bit of a bad attitude, and there isn’t a single day that goes by that he doesn’t wish his wife would’ve just finished off the job.
After being denied his old position at the fire department, he leaves, and doesn’t look back. He heads straight to Alabama and into the semi-welcoming arms of The Dixie Wardens MC. There he becomes a part of a brotherhood that forces him to get back in the land of the living.
Imogen is a smart girl. A girl who doesn’t always make the best decisions.
Her heart is in the right place when she walks into that prison, but it doesn’t take long for her to realize that her heart shouldn’t have had any say so in the matter. Especially when one wrong move lands her in the arms of a scarred man that looks frightening enough to scare any sane woman away.
Immediately enthralled by the angry man, she tries to get closer to him. But the harder she tries to get to know him, the further he pushes her away.
The only thing Aaron wanted to do after his now ex-wife was sent to jail was escape. Escape the awful memories. The pity-filled eyes. The curious glances.
He does a damn fine job at ensuring he draws as little as attention as possible, but then that annoying woman with her startling blue eyes starts hammering away at his resolve. Makes him feel when he doesn’t want to feel.
Imogen comes into his life and carves out a place for herself, obliterating his defenses one heated kiss at a time.
It doesn’t take long, and he realizes he’s in deep. Too deep to ever want to come out.
Imogen will know what it’s like to be loved by a reject.
“New guy.” Someone muttered behind me.
I turned only my head to find Stone, the president, staring at me with hard eyes.
“Yeah?” I asked him, dropping my bag on the floor and heading in his direction instead of out the door like I’d originally intended.
“You’re here because you have a special set of skills that we need.” The leader of the band of misfits, Stone, drawled.
I nearly laughed.
“That sounds like a bad line out of a movie.” I muttered, wondering where he was going with this.
He tossed me a glare and then yelled.
“Truth!” Stone yelled. “Ghost! Get the fuck in here!”
Ghost and Truth walked in the door at the same time, both of them turning to the side to walk inside, and stared at Stone
“Ghost, hold Truth down so New Guy can give him the fuckin’ shot.” Stone grumbled.
Ghost tackled Truth and wrestled him to the desk, then sat on him while Stone leaned back and watched.
“No, motherfucker!” Truth yelled. “I don’t want it!”
“It’s the fuckin’ flu shot, you dumb shit. Not a fuckin’ tracking device. Take a fuckin’ chill pill.” Stone grumbled, staring at the scuffle that was going down in front of him.
I picked up the syringe from the table, similar to the one I’d given everybody else’s flu shot with, and stabbed it in the meat of Truth’s arm.
Truth bellowed in rage, and I flipped the guard up on the syringe before tossing it into the trash can.
“Done?” I asked Stone. “I have to get to work.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He nodded. “Have fun at the nut house.”
I grunted something unintelligible, causing him to laugh.
“Don’t sound so excited.” He laughed.
I flipped him off and walked out the door just as Ghost was letting Truth up
“Why you gotta be such a big motherfucker?” Truth growled. “If you’d been anyone else, I’d have gotten away.”
“Why do you think I called Ghost instead of anyone else?” I heard Stone reply.
I’m a married mother of three. My kids are all under 5, so I can assure you that they are a handful. I’ve been with my paramedic husband now for ten years, and we’ve produced three offspring that are nothing like us. I live in the greatest state in the world, Texas.