OH. MY. HEAVENS.
We’re finally here. That time of the year where I’m officially launching THE BREAKING SERIES, my MMA romance series that begins with…Breaking The Rules.
If you’ll recall, Breaking The Rules released roughly a year ago with Loose Id. I had a great time at Loose Id during my short time there, and I cried real, fat, hot tears when they announced their plans to close earlier in 2018. (I mean, all those New Mom hormones definitely played a role, but I was seriously upset.) Faced with this crippling choice–search out a new publisher, or finally dive head-first into the self-publishing waters?–I took my time to sit on the question and really find the answer deep within my soul.
I love small presses. They helped me find my start. They bolstered me, connected me, pushed me down this path we call Professional Novelist.
But I didn’t want to risk another closure. I didn’t want to risk sub-standard editing or cover design or any of the other factors that typically make authors grimace and groan when handing over their creative rights. I’ve been very lucky in my publishing journey thusfar, but undertaking the vetting process once more to find yet another new home just felt like a draining task.
So that was that. I decided to self-publish.
And can we talk about the first of the fruits of this decision?
Daqri over at Covers by Combs hooked me up. As in, she created all of the covers for this MMA series in such a gorgeous, stunning fashion that I literally cannot stop looking at them and am salivating at the chance to hold these books in print.
I can’t wait to reveal the remaining books in the series! And trust me, they’re coming soon. Having to wait this long to launch my series has been excruciating, especially when I have so many cool things in the pipeline.
So, to those who have not yet read Breaking the Rules, or those who previously purchased and just want the new cover for their library, you can grab it now on PRE-ORDER! Find it over at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo…for just $0.99!
BREAKING THE RULES
The elevator doors opened at the top floor, and he moved but froze before his foot left the elevator. His towel. Downstairs, slung over the back of the chair in his bedroom. Fuck. He needed it, and he should go back for it.
But Amara was there. Alone. Naked, probably. And just as gorgeous as ever.
Maybe he should abandon the towel. Pretend like he didn’t care, didn’t need it.
He pushed the elevator’s Down button. Definitely needed the towel.
As the elevator descended, he gnawed the inside of his lip. She was probably changed by now. How long did it take someone to get into a bathing suit? Seconds, these days. Besides, what did he care about Amara’s naked body?
Nope, that didn’t help things. Guilt roiled around inside him. He couldn’t have these feelings for Eddie’s sister, even if they were strictly physical. He needed to act like—and believe—she was no different than any other girl.
The doors slid open, and he hurried toward his door, fumbling with his key in the lock. It opened with a quiet whoosh, and he stumbled toward his bedroom.
He rapped his knuckles against it. “Hey, you in there?” Turning the knob, he pushed on the door. No response.
Pushing farther, he let the door swing open a little. He peered inside, eyes adjusting to the low lighting of the bedroom.
Amara’s full, naked backside greeted him, all curves and roundness, gorgeous lines and sweet caramel. His jaw dropped.
She looked over her shoulder at him, the fuck-me eyes back out to play.
He pulled the door shut, heart pounding. Leaning his forehead against the door frame, he gripped the door handle so hard, his arm shook. Don’t go in there, don’t go in there, don’t you fucking dare go in there.
“Sorry, Amara.” He struggled to make his voice clear. “I thought you were done. Forgot my towel.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice came out muffled through the door. “Like you haven’t seen a naked body before.”
He drew a low, shaky breath. True, he had seen plenty of naked bodies before. None that he’d wanted to ravage as much as hers in recent times, though.
The handle turned, and the door swung open. He didn’t move—couldn’t move—from where he leaned. The glimpse of her nakedness had stolen his strength. He was useless now. Amara looked at him, grinning mischievously.
“I’m almost ready.” She gathered her hair to one side, looking him up and down.
Heart still pounding, his gaze careened over the soft arc of her hip as it transitioned from thigh to waist. He knew what she was hinting at. He could taste it like a shark near blood. He’d eat her up—all of her. From head to toe. He gulped.
But she’s off-limits. “That’s a pretty fancy bathing suit.” He sauntered past her, struggling to keep his eyes off her as he walked past.
“Don’t you like it?” She stuck out a hip.
He allowed himself to look her up and down again. It was a one-piece with most of the center cut out. It had only a strip of fabric connecting the breastbone to the pelvic area, which meant it highlighted unnaturally the hourglass curve of her body.
“It’s nice.” He meant to continue to the chair where his towel lay draped, but his feet wouldn’t take him away from her. He gritted his teeth, unable to keep the beast of desire at bay any longer.
“Oh, that’s your only opinion? Just ‘nice’?” She lifted a brow.
“You look sexy as fuck, Amara.” His voice came out low. She grinned, pulling her hair into a small bun. He reached for her hand, stilling her. “Leave your hair down.”
She did as he said, blinking up at him with a sexy type of honesty, as if she waited for him to lead the way.
He dragged his fingers down the side of her arm. “Be careful with this.” His hand smoothed over the curve of her exposed hip, and her breath hitched. He cinched her body to his, vision going spotty for the briefest of seconds. “It’s powerful.”
She laughed a little, but it faded fast. She danced her fingertips up the sides of his arms, making his cock twitch.
“So are these.” She trailed her hands over the arcs of his biceps, the heat of her breath against his chin. He brought both arms around her, making his muscles bulge; she fit like a puzzle piece.
He hovered his lips over her forehead, desperate for contact but liking the prickling tension of withholding just a little bit longer. He pushed his hands over her hips.
“Can I test out the suit?”
She nodded. “We better make sure it passes muster.”
He drew a ragged breath as he palmed the taut melons of her ass cheeks. He pressed her into him, rocking his hips in a lazy circle. She had to feel his cock by now.
“Pretty nice.” His voice came out almost a growl, and he dipped his head to nuzzle the sweet hollow of her neck. She inhaled sharply, just as he sensed the front door opening.
He stilled. The front door opened and then shut. He swore and dropped his hands. She cleared her throat, stepping away from him, reaching for the pile of clothes discarded on the bed.
“Holt, where you at?” It was Lex. “Dude, we need the ice.”
Travis rubbed his face, trying to efface the lingering memory of Amara’s perfect ass cheeks singeing his palms. “I’m coming.”
Amara arched a brow.
Travis opened his mouth to say something, but had no idea what. Sorry, you’re too fucking hot? He headed out into the kitchen, where Lex pulled a bag of ice out of the freezer.
“Starting with Jack,” he said, as though this explained everything. He followed Lex out of the apartment, Amara’s scent still whispering through him.
They boarded the elevator, and the spell broke. This was turning out to be the delicious nightmare he’d envisioned—denying the simple urges he felt for Amara while in front of her overprotective brother, almost overruled by carnal desires at every turn.
She was too hot. And she felt too damn good in his arms.
This was a lot of trouble already.