Sunday, July 28, 2013

What a playboy wants, a playboy gets...

Published: 07/17/2013
by: Emily Quinn

What a playboy wants, a playboy gets...

Alex St. Jones, black sheep of the famous St. Joneses, is the playboy of playboys whose only love affair is his freedom. He lives by one rule: Enchant them. Seduce them. Leave them.  But that's about to change when a midnight temptress stumbles upon him and demands he kiss her.

Carly Mitchell wants nothing to do with Alex St. Jones. She hates his good looks, his arrogance.  Plus, he won't leave her alone no matter what she does. Most importantly, she hates that she's falling for him. But she's determined not to go down without a fight and to teach him a lesson at that.

Alex may have met the one woman he cannot tame, but he doesn't plan on letting that stop him.  Will Carly withstand his charms?  When two strong personalities collide, sparks are sure to fly.

Rating: Spicy
Page Count: 192
Word Count: 49900
978-1-61217-858-5 Digital

Excerpt:

Alex walked through a stunningly tall garden arbor, admiring the beautiful roses clambering up its sides. He came to a halt at its end, and closed his eyes as he slowly inhaled the tranquility mixed in the rose sweet-smelling cool night air. Instinct told him he wasn’t alone, and was glad to see his gut feeling never failed him. His gaze followed a path leading up to a woman in a midnight blue gown, standing under a timeless giant tree a few steps away from him.

“Trying to get away?” the mysterious woman purred, coming out of the shadows with a cat-like walk.

He nodded. His gaze traveled the length of her body, and his hands itched to touch her long chocolate waves resting on her left shoulder.

“I don’t blame you.” She lifted her hand offering him the bottle of wine she’d been drinking from. “Alex St. Jones, is it?” Her moonlit cosmic green eyes met his caramel brown moss.

Alex was sure he’d never crossed paths with this woman before tonight. “And you are?” He puckered his brow in inquiry. He shouldn’t have been surprised to hear she knew who he was, but he was. Alex had yet to meet a woman who claimed she’d never heard of the St. Joneses. He didn’t know whether he owed a “thank you” to his wealthy-as-sin dad or not.

“Carly Mitchell… Are you going to have some wine or should I just do the deed myself?” Her upper lip curled showing straight pearl white teeth. “I certainly don’t mind.”
Alex grabbed the bottle of wine from her and took a long sip. “Who are you trying to get away from?”

“My ex.” Carly rolled her eyes.

“Your ex?” His gaze drifted around them.

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