I’m delighted to be a part of the launch promotions for THE
FORBIDDEN by Jodi Ellen Malpas!
The first part of the launch is this teaser release today.
To celebrate there’s an excerpt for your reading pleasure. In addition, you can
enter to win one of five ARCs of THE FORBIDDEN being given away
during this teaser.
A new story
of dangerous temptations from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the This Man
trilogy.
Annie
has never experienced the 'spark' with a guy - the kind of instant chemistry
that steals your breath and blindsides you completely. Until a night out with
friends brings her face to face with the wickedly sexy and mysterious Jack.
It's not just a spark that ignites between them. It's an explosion. Jack promises
to consume Annie, and he fully delivers on that promise.
Overwhelmed
by the intensity of their one night together, Annie slips out of their hotel
room. She is certain that a man who's had such a powerful impact on her and who
could bend her to his will so easily, must be dangerous. But she's already in
too deep. And Jack isn't only dangerous. He is forbidden.
“Every kiss, every sexy scene, every word between this pair
owned a piece of my soul. I could read this book a hundred times and
still react as if it was the first time. The Protector is
a top 2016 fave for me.” –Audrey Carlan, #1 bestselling author of The Calendar
Girl series
Buy the Book!
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2l2apNG
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2lxLoqV
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2l2d3De
iBooks: http://apple.co/2kBbuf4
Google: http://bit.ly/2kcr6XH
The teaser blitz excerpt for your reading pleasure:
Keeping his eyes on mine, he calls to the barman.
“Two tequilas, please.”
“Tequila,” I muse, looking over my shoulder when
the salt and lemon land behind me. “Is that my challenge?”
“Crying off?” he goads, reaching into his pocket
and pulling out some notes.
“Never,” I scoff, turning into the bar. I don’t
know what his game is, but I want to play. With him. “You’re asking me to prove
I’m sober by doing a shot?” I narrow my eyes on him, teasing. “Or is your plan
to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”
He smiles to himself as he pays the barman. “You
don’t look like the kind of woman who could be taken advantage of.”
“What kind of woman do I look like, then?” I
challenge quietly.
He turns into me, watching me for a few moments. “I
don’t know, but I think I’d like to find out.”
I hold his gaze for a few seconds, no retort
coming to me. I think I want him to find out, too, just as much as I want to
find out what kind of man he is. My
eyes drop from his sparkling greys, down his tall, lean frame to his feet.
Oh…fuck…
“Let’s play,” he says, moving in closer and
pulling one of the glasses forward. I don’t mean to, but I yank my arm away
abruptly when he brushes against me, startled by the tiny stabs of pleasure
that pitter-patter all over my skin. The fleeting touch tells me he would feel
as good as he looks, and—give me strength—he smells divine, all manly and
earthy and fucking edible.
The sudden lapse in movement and talking from both
of us becomes slightly awkward. I can feel him looking down at me.
“What do I have to do?” I ask again quietly,
almost on a breathy gasp.
He clears his throat. “You’re not drunk?”
“Not even the slightest bit.” I raise my nose in
the air.
“Good. Then you’ll smash this challenge first
time.” He places a finger on the brim of one of the shot glasses. “Brace your
palms on the edge of the bar,” he orders, firm but softly. I look at him,
finding a serious face. “Go on.”
Frowning, I place my hands on the edge of the bar.
“Okay?”
He takes my hips. He takes my fucking hips! I
freeze from top to toe and swallow hard, waiting. My insides are quickly
furling, my mind in chaos. “Move back a bit,” he says, pulling at them a little
until I step back.
Oh, Jesus. I’m on fire. I have a strange man
bending me over a bar in public, and me, Annie I’m-immune-to-men Ryan, isn’t
fighting him off. It’s like he has me under a spell. What gives? I dare not
look behind me. I’m not stupid enough to think Lizzy isn’t currently watching a
man manipulate my body to where he wants it.
“You feel tense,” he observes, releasing me and
moving back to my side.
I don’t deny it; neither do I confirm it. His big
hands felt so good resting on my hips, so much so I have to resist not claiming
them and putting them back where they were. “What now?” I ask, evidently
struggling for air, damn me.
“Now.” He picks up his beer and grins. “I get to
gloat that I had you bent over a bar within five minutes of meeting you.” He
takes a swig, still grinning, and I hear the roar of a man down the bar
laughing his head off.
Oh, the fucker! Part of me has admiration. Another
part of me wants to slap him stupid; I don’t care how beautiful he is. And
another part of me wants to rip his clothes from his body and ravish the sly bastard.
I cannot believe I fell for it! How many women
has he played like a fiddle? I drop my head, shaking it to myself.
I knew that smile was dangerous. A man who can
bend a woman to his will so easily and
so soon couldn’t be anything less than lethal. And the fact that he got me with
his wicked game means hats off to him. I can’t possibly take that away from
him, and since I’m lacking in the dignity department right now, I decide not to
slap him. Nor will I chuck a drink over his head, or fire a load of verbal
abuse at him.
I’ll do what he least expects.
I push myself up and turn to face him, unable to
stop myself from smiling at his half-grin. Holding his gaze, I slowly lick the
back of my hand, blindly take the salt off the bar, sprinkle a bit, and take
one of the shots of tequila. But as I’m taking my hand to my mouth to lick the
salt up, he seizes my wrist and takes the shot from my other hand. My heartbeat
accelerates, our eyes glued to each other as he moves into me and slowly brings
my hand to his mouth. I watch, gripped, as he lazily licks up the salt from the
back of my hand, eyes on mine, and then knocks the tequila back. Kill me now, for I will certainly die a
happy woman. His tongue on my skin. His eyes boring into mine. His hold of
my wrist. I must look like a statue—unable to talk, move, or think clearly.
“There’s one more tequila,” he says, cocking his
head toward the bar but keeping me in his sights. “And it’s yours.”
Oh good lord. My heart is speeding up by the
second as I watch him lick the back of his hand and sprinkle some salt. Then he
offers it to me. I stare at his hand, and then slowly look up at him. I could
get lost in those grey glittery eyes.
“I taste good,” he whispers.
Jodi Ellen Malpas was born and raised in the Midlands’ town
of Northampton, England, where she lives with her two boys. Working for her
father’s construction business full-time, she tried to ignore the lingering
idea of writing until it became impossible. She wrote in secret for a long time
before finally finding the courage to unleash her creative streak, and in
October 2012 she released This Man.
She took a chance on a story with some intense characters
and sparked incredible reactions from women all over the world. Writing
powerful love stories and creating addictive characters have become her
passion, a passion she now shares with her devoted readers.
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Thanks for
stopping by today. Doesn’t that cover just make you wonder what is going on
inside that story?
His sparkling grey eyes are as glittering and compelling as the spider web on the cover...
ReplyDeleteSounds like quite an electricity-charged sort of book, Mason. I have to say, the cover got my attention, too. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete