Not Until You Is Out Tomorrow! Here's Chapter One...

 

Hey, everyone! It's finally time. NOT UNTIL YOU starts tomorrow!!! I hope you all check out NOT UNTIL YOU DARE (Part 1) tomorrow and let me know what you think. I'm so very excited about this serial and can't wait for y'all to read it!

And if you still need some convincing...

First, here's the totally gorgeous page Penguin put together for the serial. I've never had that kind of fanciness before, so I kind of want to just stare at it. :)

And if you would like to see what to expect, here's Chapter 1 for you...

ONCE A GOOD GIRL DARES TO CROSS SOME LINES, IT'S HARD TO TURN BACK…

NOT UNTIL YOU DARE - CHAPTER 1

Copyrighted Material Roni Loren 2013 - All Rights Reserved Berkley Publishing Group

*18 and over only*

Chapter 1

“Andre, this isn’t a good time. Can I call you back?”

 I did my best not to let my cell phone slip from between my ear and shoulder. Just don’t drop the tequila. I adjusted the enormous bottle my friend, Bailey, had given me as a graduation present from my right hand to beneath my left arm and tried to dig my keys out of my purse so I could open the main door to my apartment building.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to make it, Cela,” my older brother said, his guilt obviously trumping my request to call him later. “I got caught at an investigation site. I thought I’d be able to get there in time, but we had a witness wanting to talk and….”

I cursed silently as my keys hit the pavement. I crouched down, doing my best not to flash my underwear to anyone who may be passing by. “Really, it’s fine. They called my name. I walked across the stage and got a piece of paper and a sash for being summa cum laude. Papá yelled my name like he was at a baseball game instead of a ceremony. Mamá cried. Not that interesting.”

My brother’s heavy sigh said everything. I almost felt guilty that he felt so guilty. “Before you move back home next month, we’re getting together to celebrate. My baby sister, the doctor. I’m so proud I could burst.”

I smiled. I did like the sound of that. Dr. Marcela Medina, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. Seven years of exams and studying and clinics, but it was finally done. Now it was time to leave Dallas and head back home to Verde Pass and take up the slack in my dad’s practice. 

That last part had my smile faltering a bit. I hooked my key ring with my finger and wobbled back to a stand. “That’s sounds great. But I really have to get going. I have my hands full and need to get through the door.”

“Cela, you know better than to carry too much. Parking lots at night are one of the most dangerous places for women. Are you holding your mace?” he asked, his voice going into that bossy cop tone I was all too familiar with.

“It’s in my hand,” I lied, trying to remember where I’d stowed the last little canister he’d given me—probably in her junk drawer. “But I don’t have a free hand to pull the door open.”

“All right,” he said, placated. “Congratulations again. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The phone call ended but I didn’t have a way to take the phone off her ear, so I just shuffled forward in a sideways hunch, trying to juggle everything I was holding to get my key into the door. After two attempts, I got the lock turned and pressed my back against the glass door to push my way into the lobby. 

As soon as I’d cleared the entrance and turned toward the stairs, male voices sounded behind me. Of course someone would show up right after I didn’t need help anymore. I peeked back to see who it was, Andre’s danger warnings still echoing in my head, but found something more distracting than criminals—my neighbors, Foster and Pike.

Foster stepped through the main door first and glanced my way. As usual, everything went melty inside me, his smile like a zap of heat to my system. Ridiculous. “Need some help, neighbor?”

I straightened, but forgot about my phone in the process. My brand new I-

Phone went sliding off my shoulder.

“Crap!” I lurched forward, trying to save it from its imminent demise, and accidentally dropped my plastic bag of Chinese takeout on the way.

“Whoa, there.” Pike, Foster’s roommate, was at my side in a second. His hand caught my elbow, saving me from losing the ginormous bottle of liquor along with my balance. But my phone clattered to the ground, the harsh sound mixing with the splat of my noodles hitting tile.

I winced, anticipating a broken screen. “Dammit.”

Foster bent down, his tie brushing the ground as he swept my phone off the floor. He peered at the screen, dark brows lowering over pale eyes, then he turned the phone toward me—the happy puppy screensaver staring back at me in tact. “All is well. Luckily, these things are built to take a licking.”

My brain got snagged on the work lick, and the back of my neck went hot. My lips parted, but words failed me. Great, imitate a gaping goldfish--that’s cute.

Pike cleared his throat, easing the tequila from my arms, and then crouched down near the open bag at my feet. He grabbed a noodle from the spilled box of Chinese food, tipped his head back and dropped it into his mouth, his eyes watching mine. “The lo mein’s a loss, though.”

I swallowed hard, his gaze even more bad boy than the tattoos peeking out from his open collar. His pierced tongue snaked around the noodle. Look away. I forced my face upward, but then ended up focusing on Foster again. Say something. God, I was standing there like an idiot. This was why I always avoided these two like like they were contagious. They made me go stupid. 

Foster held out my phone, and I managed to take it, the slight brush of his fingers against mine hitting the reset button in my brain. I managed a feeble, “Thank you.”

Foster glanced at the mess on the floor. “I’m really sorry I said anything. I didn’t mean to distract you from your intricate juggling act.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been trying to carry everything at once. It’s been a long day, and I was hoping to save myself a second trip up the stairs.”

“The joys of a walk-up.” Pike grabbed a few napkins and started cleaning up the noodles at my feet like it was his mess to worry about.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” I lowered down to my knees. “I’ll take care of it.”

He grinned over at me, the mirror opposite of his roommate. Ian Foster was all suits and dark looks—a man who preferred to be called by his surname. Whereas, Pike didn't seem to even have a last name. He was a drummer in some popular local band—jeans, a sex-on-the-mind-smile, and spiked, bleached hair his usual uniform. Not that I had studied either of them. Or listened to their escapades through the wall I shared with them. Not at all. 

Keep telling yourself that, Cela.

Despite my protest, Pike helped me finish picking up the mess. “So what’s the big ass bottle of tequila for? No one could’ve had that bad of a day.”

I glanced over at the bottle I’d set on the floor, debating whether I could be trusted to have normal conversation with these two without sounding like I had a speech impediment. “I, uh, graduated today. It was a gift.”

“Oh, right on.”

“Congratulations, Cela,” Foster said, dragging my attention upward. Just the sound of him saying my name in that smooth, dark voice had my stomach clenching. He was all southern refinement, but I didn't miss the glimmer of a drawl underneath it all.

Ay dios mio. My body clamored to attention like an eager labrador ready to be petted. Down, girl. These guys were way above my pay grade. I wasn't dumb or delusional. I’d seen/spied on/secretly hated the women who’d passed through their apartment door—women who looked like they’d earned their doctorates in the art of seduction.

I hadn’t even reached the kindergarten level in that particular department.

“Thank you.”

“You were going to vet school at Dallas U, right?” Foster had tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and though the question was casual, I had the distinct impression he was tense beneath that suit jacket. 

Pike handed me a napkin for my hands and stood to toss the food into a nearby trash can.

I wiped off my hands and pushed myself to my feet, trying to do it as gracefully as possible in my restrictive skirt. “Yes, how’d you know that?”

“The scrubs you wear have the school insignia on them,” Foster said, as if it was totally normal that he’d looked at me that closely.

“Observant.” Especially considering I usually only managed a head-down, mumbled hey-how-are-ya exchange when we passed each other in the hallway. Secretly listening to one of your hot neighbors having sex had a way of making eye contact a bit uncomfortable the next day—particularly if said eavesdropper had used the soundtrack to fuel her own interlude with her battery-operated boyfriend.

Not that I had. Several times. Whatever.

Pike sidled up next to Foster—a motley pair if there ever was one. “So, doc, now that you’ve got no dinner and clearly too much liquor on your hands, why don’t you join us? We already have pizza on the way, and we can play a drinking game with the tequila. Do college kids still play Never Have I Ever? I was always good at that one.”

Kid? Is that what they saw me as? Neither of them could be that much older than I was. Though in terms of life experience, I had no doubt they trumped me a few times over.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” The refusal was automatic, long practiced. How many times had I turned down such offers—from guys, from friends? My parents had been so strict when I was younger that I almost didn’t know how to say yes even after living on my own the last few years. Studies first. Fun later. Yet, there never seemed to be any time for fun after the first one was finished.

“You sure? I don’t want you going to bed with no dinner because of us,” Foster said, frown lines marring that perfect mouth of his.

Going to bed and us was about all I heard. My father’s stern voice whispered in my ear. You don’t know these men. You’ll be all alone in their apartment. Medina women have more respect for themselves than that.

“Really, I’m fine,” I said, my smile brief, plastic. “But thanks.”

“Oh, come on,” Pike said, his tone cajoling. “We’ve been neighbors for what, two years? We should at least get to know a little about each other.”

Get to know each other? I knew that Foster was loud when he came—even if he was alone. Knew that Pike liked to laugh during sex. Knew the two men shared women. And the other sounds I’d heard over the last two years…the smacks, the commands, the erotic screams. My face went as hot as if I’d stuck my head in an oven.

“Y’all just want me for my tequila,” I said, attempting to deflect my derailing thoughts.

The corner of Pike’s mouth lifted. “Of course that’s not all we want you for.”

 "Uh…" Oh, hell. Pictures flashed across my brain. Dirty, delicious pictures. I almost dropped my phone again. I had no idea what to do with my hands, my expression.

Foster put a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “The lady said no. I think we should let her go celebrate her graduation however she wants.”

“All right.” Pike’s face turned hang dog, but he handed me the tequila bottle. “If you change your mind, we’ve got big plans. Supreme pizza and a Star-Wars-themed porn marathon. The Empire Sucks C—”

Foster smacked the back of Pike’s head, and Pike ducked and laughed.

“Kidding. I mean, a Jane Austen marathon,” Pike corrected, his green-gold eyes solemn. “Pride and Pu—” 

Foster was behind Pike, his hand clamping over his friend’s mouth in a flash. “I seriously can’t take him out. He’s like an untrained puppy. Maybe you can lend me a shock collar or something.”

Pike waggled his eyebrows, all playful wickedness.

I laughed, putting my hand to my too hot forehead, and turning toward the stairs. “Yeah, so, I’m going to go now.”

“Cela,” Foster said as I put my foot onto the first step.

I glanced back. “Yeah?”

His ice melt eyes flicked downward, his gaze alighting along the length of me before tracing their way upward again in a slow, unashamed perusal. “Promise you won’t go to bed hungry.”

I wet my lips, my skin suddenly feeling too tight to accommodate the blood pumping beneath it, and nodded. 

But it was a lie. 

I always went to bed hungry.

And it had nothing to do with a spilled dinner.

 

That's all I've got for you today. Hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you to those of you who have already pre-ordered or who are planning on buying it tomorrow! *hugs* 

Also, if you feel inclined to tweet, facebook, tumble, Pinterest, etc. about my new release, I'll love you 'til the end of time. ;) The release week of every book is super important so I appreciate any buzz you can help me spread!

First Look: Chapter One of CAUGHT UP IN YOU!

I've had a few reader requests lately to give a sneak peek of Wyatt and Kelsey's story, CAUGHT UP IN YOU, which is releasing in August. I'm really excited about this story. It's probably my sweetest, most romantic story I've written so far. Not that it isn't sexy and erotic as well, but I felt these two needed over the top, 80s movie-style romance. : )

So without further rambling, here's the first part of chapter one. To read the whole thing click the link at the bottom...

Chapter 1 of Caught Up In You

Copyrighted Roni Loren 2013 - All Rights Reserved Berkley Publishing Group

*18 and over only*


“You know, picturing someone naked this early in the morning isn’t good for your health.”

Kelsey LeBreck leaned forward to get a better view through the kitchen’s pass-through, smirking at Nathan’s jab but not tearing her gaze away from her subject. “Hush and keep flipping his eggs.”

But of course her co-worker ignored that command. “I mean, think how long you’ll have to wait before you can get home to your vibrator and imagine Mr. Tall, Dark, and Loaded rocking your world. You’re going to be so pent up and distracted, you’ll screw up everyone’s order.”

“I do that anyway.” Except his. Never his. Though, that wasn’t really an accomplishment, considering he always ordered the same thing.

“Yet you still get better tips than Chandra.”

“I’m charming that way.” And desperate. When that tip meant the difference between being able to pay for a tank of gas instead of riding the bus, she could channel so much sunshine and sweetness, even the grumpiest customer couldn’t be mad at her for long.

“Are the muffins ready to go in yet? Darryl’s going to be here any minute and you know how he gets if shit is late.”

“Working on it.” Kelsey blindly stirred her muffin batter as she watched Wyatt Austin adjust his glasses, fold his newspaper just so, and then spread out a stack of documents on the table in front of him. He had a way of moving that was somehow graceful and efficient all at once. Like he’d figured out the most streamlined way to do each and every thing so that he could fit the maximum amount of work into every minute of the day.

And maybe he had. God knows his schedule was more predict- able than the sunrise. At six fifteen every weekday morning, he would walk in the cafe with his newspaper tucked under his arm and his own travel mug of coffee. He’d sit at the same table in the far corner, the one that provided him both a view of the television on the wall and the least amount of glare for his laptop screen. She knew that only because she’d finally asked him one day why he chose that booth all the time. When she’d joked that he sat there because it was her section, he’d just offered that enigmatic smile of his—one that had promptly made her forget the last order she’d taken from the table before him.

“You need to stop torturing yourself,” Nathan said from be- hind her, the sizzle of the griddle playing soundtrack in the back- ground. “From what I’ve heard, the suit doesn’t date. And he’s not gay either. Believe me, I’d be the one serving him eggs and sausage if he were.”

She snorted and finally looked back at Nathan. “Sausage? You’re going with that one, really?”

He held his arms out to his sides and gave her a come-on-how- could-I-pass-that-up look.

“How do you even know this stuff? And you, with the fetish for skater boys, would go after Wyatt Austin, CEO-in-training? Please.”

“I love the shit out of that strong, silent type. They’re usually crazy good in the sack. Like they’re saving up all that intensity just for you.” He shrugged and turned over a row of bacon with his spatula. “And money never hurt anybody. I’m not above being a kept man.”

“You’re a top.”

“And so are you, baby girl. But that hasn’t stopped you from your mad, passionate love affair with Mr. In Charge.”

She sighed and turned back to her batter, grabbing a ladle so she could scoop it into the muffin tins. It was a mad, passionate love affair. He was the absolute perfect boyfriend for her right now. Delicious to look at, panty-dampening to fantasize about, and completely and utterly unattainable.

Nathan set a plate next to her and slid the egg white omelet and two slices of turkey bacon onto it. “Order up. Now, if you’re not going to give up on this crush, why don’t you take this plate over there and ask the guy out?”

She spun to face him, muffin tray in her hand. “Did you forget to take your meds today? I’m a waitress and wannabe baker. His family owns an entire company.”

“So the fuck what? He has more money than you. Big deal. Doesn’t mean he’s better than you. In fact, he’d be a damn lucky bastard to get a date with you. Hell, I’d take you out just to get these secret muffin recipes of yours.”

She handed the pan to him, picked up Wyatt’s plate, and kissed Nathan’s cheek. “Thanks, hon. But if I’ve learned one lesson in life, it’s that fantasy is always better than reality.”

He gave her a sly smile. “But fantasy can’t have breakfast in bed with you the next morning.”

No. But it also couldn’t break your heart.

Or break her.

Kelsey turned on her heel and pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door. Time to serve breakfast to her imaginary boyfriend.

CLICK TO READ THE REST OF CHAPTER ONE (and to get a peek inside Wyatt's head)

 

If you want to be awesome, you can pre-order it now. :)  Barnes and Noble | Amazon

 

 

A Sexy Sneak Peek from NOT UNTIL YOU!

Photo via Mixxula (Flickr CC)Guess what's only two months away? The release of my e-serial NOT UNTIL YOU! I can't believe it's almost here already. I'm really excited about this story and this format. It's my first time writing something in serial format, my first time writing a college-aged/New Adult heroine, and the first time I'm using first person POV for the heroine.

So I thought today I'd give you an inside look into the story. This is an exceprt from NOT UNTIL YOU Part I: NOT UNTIL YOU DARE. And if you'd like to pre-order the first part (Nook or Kindle), I'd not mind at all. ;)

 

NOT UNTIL YOU DARE Excerpt

Copyright 2013 Roni Loren - All Rights Reserved Berkley Publishing Group

Foster watched Cela’s throat work as she sipped her margarita. The club was in full swing, but Pike had used his connections to get them a table on the balcony so that they could all have a drink and talk without the music drowning them out.

This kind of club wasn’t usually Foster’s speed. Too loud. Too crowded. If he was going to go out, he usually drove to The Ranch where true privacy could be had if needed. But when Pike had suggested dancing, Foster couldn’t resist the thought of having Cela’s body pressed against his, the scent of her swirling around him.

But unless Cela relaxed, they were going to be cemented to these chairs all night. Her salt-rimmed drink sloshed precariously in her unsteady hand as she sent the tables nearby a darting glance and sipped. If he said “boo”, she’d probably leap off her seat.

Way to go, genius, he chided himself. It was his and Pike’s job to make sure Cela had fun tonight, and they were reaching epic fail status quickly.

Pike was at least trying to put her at ease. “So how long do you have before you move back home?”

“I’m going to help out in the clinic at the vet school for a few more weeks. I’ve been interning there this year, and I wanted to make sure they had a replacement for me before I left. So before the end of June.”

“Wow, that soon, huh?” Pike asked.

She looked at her drink and seemed to sink into her thoughts. “Yeah.”

Damn, they needed to turn this night around quickly. Cela seemed to be getting more morose instead of relaxed. Enough sitting around. He didn’t have Pike’s talent for settling women with humor and the occasional off color comment. If he said half the stuff Pike did, his face would be permanently marked from angry slaps. But he did have one potent tool in his arsenal—one that only worked on a special type of woman. And all his God-given instincts were telling him Cela was exactly that kind of girl, his kind of girl. Even if she didn’t know it yet. Time to do what he’d been wanting to do since he’d first met his shy neighbor. 

He reached out and plucked the glass from her hands. “Stand up, Cela.”

She turned toward him and blinked as if to clear her vision of some afterimage. “What?”

He stood. “Up. Now.”

She glanced at Pike with a what’s-going-on look but rose to her feet anyhow. 

“Thank you.” He stepped around the small cocktail table to stand in front of her, using his height advantage to the fullest. “Look at me.”

Her head tilted upward without hesitation—like he’d tugged a string attached to her chin. 

Good girl, his mind whispered. But he shoved the instinctual response to the back of his  brain. “We brought you here to have a good time tonight.”

Her lips rolled inward, nervously smoothing her lip gloss, and she took a breath. “I know. I want that, too.”

“Good.” He glanced at Pike, who was watching the exchange with deceptively casual interest. Pike gave a barely perceptible nod, somehow always in tune with Foster’s thoughts, and climbed out his chair. He moved behind Cela with easy confidence and slid his hands along her waist.

She jolted a bit at the touch, a flush creeping over the skin exposed by her V-cut neckline, but she held Foster’s eye contact. 

“You’re shutting down on us.” Foster reached out and cupped her face, running a finger along her cheekbone. “I need you to let go of the nerves. You have no reason to be anxious around us.”

She scoffed, then bit her lip when she realized the sound had escaped.

Pike smiled over her shoulder and moved in closer, pulling her gently against his chest, swaying a bit to the music. Foster knew this would be the make or break moment. She’d either jump in with both feet or shrink back into her shell like a hermit crab. But he was done trying to resist his urges with her. 

So far, she was responding just as he’d hoped, the submissive undercurrent almost a taste on his tongue. The desire to take control, to take her over, surged inside him like lifeblood. His dominance could calm her. “You’re safe with us. Neither of us would ever make you do something you don’t want to do. Understand?”

Her gaze shifted, and he could see her body going rigid. Her fight or flight was kicking in—which only served to activate his chase and conquer gene. But right as he thought she may wiggle out of Pike’s arms and run, she blurted out, “But I don’t know how to do this!”

The honest response made him want to smile, to kiss her, to soothe that insecurity. “Do what?” he asked calmly, letting his hand drift to her throat, feeling her pulse quicken against his palm. “Tell me what you fear.”

She closed her eyes as if gathering her strength around her—finding that steel core he sensed resided under all that cottony soft innocence. “I’m…not used to this. Being out with guys. I don’t know how to act, what to do.”

“Ah, sweetheart,” Pike said, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “You’re doing just fine.”

Foster breathed slowly, willing his own heartbeat to slow, his protective instinct flooding him. Oh, how he’d like to show her exactly what he wanted her to do when she was with him, how to act, how to submit. But she was so young, so untouched. He’d fear crushing her under the weight of all he desired. 

Despite his body screaming for a different outcome and knowing that he and Pike could seduce her into their bed tonight, he forced the right words to come out of his mouth. “Listen to me, Cela. Tonight, we’re just going to dance. All you need to do is relax and have a good time. We don’t have any expectations beyond that.”

*

What if I want you to? The question sat full on my lips, my body already in overdrive from Pike’s warm chest pressed against my back and Foster’s commanding gaze holding me captive. But I couldn’t deny the unwinding ball of tension in my stomach at Foster’s statement. They weren’t expecting anything from me. All I needed to do was get the stick out of my backside and have fun. Give myself over to the night.

Give myself over to them.

 

Hope you enjoyed it! You can pre-order the first part for only $1.99 on Kindle or Nook.


FALL INTO YOU Countdown - New Excerpt & Win My Backlist!

It's almost here! FALL INTO YOU will be out New Year's Eve! Woot! (Yes, I know my site says Jan. 1 but from all I've heard and seen, looks like it's going to be available a day early.)

So I thought to celebrate, I'd post a brand new excerpt AND have a giveaway. (See details at the bottom for contest.)

First, enjoy a little taste of Grant...

From FALL INTO YOU, Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved Berkley Publishing Group

After another round of questions from the other officer and a tour of the damage, the policemen left with a promise to follow up with her if they found anything. She watched them turn off her street and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight a chill that wouldn’t seem to go away.

Grant, who’d stayed leaning against his truck like some silent sentinel, pushed to a stand and stepped in front of her, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Apparently noticing her goose bumps, he rubbed his palms along her chilled arms.

Somehow the little gesture of comfort had tears that had built up from the last twenty-four hours ready to burst free. But she wouldn’t cry. She could handle this.

“You okay, freckles?” he asked.


“Freckles?” She looked up at him, trying to muster up some
I’m-totally-fine façade, even though having his hands on her had her thoughts fracturing and emotion trying to leak through. “Are you trying to get me back for calling you cowboy?”

“Just trying to make you smile,” he said, concern underlying that twang.

She pushed a finger to his chest and tried to manage an intimidating expression. “I’d normally punch a guy for calling me that. You’re lucky I’m too tired. And that you’re so fucking big.”

“Lucky, indeed.” He smiled, but those blue eyes remained serious. He grabbed her hand before she could move it away from his chest. His palm closed over her fist, the hold firm. “Now are you going to tell me what really happened last night? You’re shaking. And I know it’s over more than stolen computer equipment.”

She blinked at the change in subject and his grip on her hand. She stepped back, and he quickly let go of her. “What?”

His mouth dipped at the corners, and he eyed her in that knowing way he seemed to be so good at. “Fine. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can go on pretending that everything is sugar and sparkles to try to get me to go away and leave you to whatever mess you’re in alone. Not going to happen, by the way. Or you can be honest with me so that maybe I can offer some help.”

She groaned. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I don’t need help. I’m on a story that apparently has ruffled someone’s feathers. I can handle it. After all this, I’m going to be on guard now and more aware.”

The displeasure that crossed his face was strong enough to steal breath. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone ran you off the road last night. And don’t lie and say I’m off base. You were yelling at them in your sleep.”

She glanced away and took a sudden interest in a crack in her driveway. “It was probably just kids messing around.”

“You don’t strike me as a stupid woman, Charli. Don’t talk like one.”

She clenched her jaw, frustration building. Who was he to make demands on her? Being a Good Samaritan gave him the right to a thank-you but not some right to all her business. But before she could lash out and take out her stress from the last twenty-fours hours on the man in front of her, another truck pulled into her driveway. A very familiar one.

“Son. Of. A. Bitch.” Her simmering frustration boiled over into outright anger. She sent a fiery look Grant’s way, as a ginger-headed man climbed out of the truck’s cab.

Grant shrugged. “Sorry, darlin’. He would’ve done the same for me.”

Suddenly, all the warm and fuzzy feelings she’d been harboring toward Grant earlier that morning dissipated into a red haze.

 

Read the entire first chapter here

Or, even better, pre-order it so that you can have it next week! I will love you forever. ;)

 

Giveaway: I'm giving away signed print copies of CRASH INTO YOU and MELT INTO YOU to one lucky commenter (U.S. and Canada only). Leave a comment answering the question below and include your email address below. I'll pick a winner on Monday.

 

FALL INTO YOU Review Copies Available: If you are a book blogger and would like to review FALL INTO YOU, please email me at ronilorenbooks(at)gmail(dot)com with the subject REVIEW. There are NetGalley and print options. Please let me know which format you would prefer and include a link to the site where the review would be posted.

 

QUESTION: What book are you most looking forward to reading in 2013?

Want a Peek Inside Grant's Head? New Excerpt from FALL INTO YOU

First, I want to congratulate Kristi for winning the contest from last Monday. Congrats!

I'm busy-busy trying to organize myself for writing the e-serial. Good grief this is a whole new beast. Figuring out where to divide the parts and what to write where is interesting to say the least. As of right now, I'm planning five chapters for each section since that equates to about 50 pages for me. I want to make sure you get a good chunky read for each section. I'm really excited about how the first segment turned out, so today it's on to part 2. (Titles are coming soon btw!)

And now today, since we're about six weeks out from FALL INTO YOU's release (squee!), I thought I'd give you a brand new snippet of Grant and Charli.

From FALL INTO YOU:

Copyright 2012 Roni Loren | All Rights Reserved Berkley Publishing Group

“Are you meeting someone?” The hostess’s voice drifted across the room, pulling Grant’s attention toward the main door.

His glass thunked onto the table as the muscles in his forearm forgot to work. He stared at the redheaded beauty murmuring to the hostess. Well, I’ll be damned.

Charli peered into the dining room, her fingers worrying whatever she was holding in her hands. She looked lost. And unsure. And completely, jaw-hit-the-table gorgeous.

Grant rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling hot all over. Damn. He’d known without a doubt that Charli would clean up well. Not many women could still look beautiful in relaxed-fit jeans and a ponytail like she did. But he hadn’t expected her to channel a Hollywood starlet or something.

The hostess leaned over and pointed to Grant’s booth. Somehow he managed to raise his hand in greeting and not smile like some goofy teenager who’s realized he’s landed a date with the prom queen. He straightened his shoulders, trying to regain his mental balance. He was supposed to be the cool and in control one here. Since when did he get like this over a pretty woman? He had beautiful subs offering themselves to him on a regular basis and it barely registered on his radar. This should be no different. She should be no different.

As Charli got closer, Grant saw what she was holding in her hands. Shoes. A pair of sexy black heels he’d picked out for her earlier today. A perfect complement, Kelsey had assured him, to the dark green strapless dress he’d chosen for Charli. His gaze went to her stocking feet, then slid up her long legs, to the hem of her short dress, and not stopping until he reached the column of her bare neck.

Not bare for long. The collar tucked into the inner pocket of his suit coat seemed to warm against his ribs at the thought. Soon.

He stood as Charli walked over to the booth. She set the shoes on the seat, put her hands on her hips, and arched a newly manicured brow at him. “Broken ankles or bare feet. Those are your choices.”

He smiled down at her. “Already giving me orders, freckles? That’s not how this works.”

She released a breath and then leaned in, keeping her voice low. “Look, it’s been a long day. I’ve been through what I think may be considered cruel and unusual under my constitutional rights as an American citizen. I’ve been waxed and plucked and exfoliated and . . . ironed, I think. Some woman whose name I can’t pronounce has now seen more of me than my gynecologist ever has. And this dress is . . . drafty. You gotta give me something here.”

He stared at her for a moment, a bit stunned by her rapid-fire speech, then laughed, loud and open, not caring that it drew the attention of the other guests. He raised his palms. “Fine. Point taken. Sit down. We’ll save the shoes for later.”

“Thank you.” She took his offered hand and stepped up into the raised booth, obviously forgetting she had a dress on as she climbed in. He got a delicious glimpse of the bottom curve of her ass.

He palmed her waist and moved behind her to block anyone else’s view. “Lesson one, freckles. When wearing a dress, you need to be more aware of yourself. Giving half the restaurant a Basic Instinct moment is not that big a deal here. But back in town that may be a bit embarrassing.”

“Shit.” She grabbed her hem, clamped her thighs together and hurriedly sat. “You shouldn’t have made me wear such a short dress. I feel naked.”

“You look beautiful,” he corrected, then slid into the spot across from her. “And be thankful. As my sub, I could’ve requested you to come to dinner only wearing those shoes.”

Blurb:

He’ll do anything for you. But you’d better say please.

When tomboy sports reporter Charli Beaumonde loses a dream TV job because she’s not girly enough for primetime, she’s determined to land a big scoop and prove her boss made a mistake. But when she gets too close to a football scandal and finds her life threatened, Charli accepts an offer from family friend Grant Waters to hide out at his place—even if Grant predicts nothing but trouble from his buddy’s hard-headed, uncompromising, irrepressible, younger sister. There’s one more problem…

Grant’s “place” is The Ranch, a BDSM resort in Texas, and he’s used to being in charge —even if that means trying to keep Charli in line. But much to Grant’s surprise, she’s intrigued—even envious—of his trainees. They’re the epitome of what she’s never been: sexy, beguiling, and totally irresistible to a man. Still, Grant doesn’t believe for a minute that the sharp-tongued Charli has it in her to be anyone’s submissive. But Charli’s already on her knees vying for the chance to prove that even the Master can be wrong sometimes.

Out on New Year's Day! But it's now available for Pre-Order if you want it the day it's out. ; )