Cooking Up A Seduction Read online

  Mason will need all the help he can get to find her again, explain he’s not married, and convince her to trust her feelings for him. All while dealing with the meddling of his psychologist brother, her overbearing brother-in-law, their conflicting work schedules, the neighborhood writing group, a stalker with a Hallmark obsession, and a hairless dog named Monkey.

  Wide-eyed, Hannah looked up at him. He reached out as if in a dream, tucking his fingers underneath her chin, and angled her mouth up to accept his. He brushed his lips softly against hers, wondering if she’d fight him. Her eyelids drifted closed and he let himself taste her. Gently he kissed her, fighting the urge to push and plunder. Her hands crept up his body, her palms flattened against his chest, resting there for a second before she firmly pushed him away.

  As her heavily fringed lids fluttered open she said, “I don’t know you. You have no right to kiss me.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he wondered if she was more upset that he kissed her, or that he stopped. From the way her chest was hitching with every breath, his money was on the latter. Still, she was fighting the attraction.

  “That was not a kiss.”

  “Excuse me? I know when I’ve been kissed,” she said breathily.

  “This is a kiss.” Mason reached for her, molding his hands on either side of her creamy oval face. Energy pulsed through him as he pressed his lips to hers. This was his one chance to assault her senses the way she did to him with just her presence. A physical expression of just how she made him feel. There was no softness this time, no holding back.

  Read on… http://www.jennabayleyburke.com/#!just-one-spark/cqno

  Copyright © 2014 Jenna Bayley-Burke

  All rights reserved—a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

  Caribbean Casanova

  Under the Caribbean Sun, 2

  Of all the islands in all the world, she’s come to his.

  Holly Hansen has sacrificed too much to let anything—especially a man—get in the way of making her clothing line a success. When she arrives on the island of Anguilla, she zeroes in on the biggest threat to her make-or-break photo shoot. At six-and-a-half foot of sculpted Dutch muscle, Harmannus Prinsen is every inch the womanizer of Caribbean legend, but he will not be seducing any of her models. She knows exactly how to make sure of it. Make the girls think he’s taken.

  Harm is stunned when the curvaceous beauty greets him with a mind-numbing kiss. She’s the embodiment of every pin-up portrait he collected as a teen, with a sassy tongue and a body that begs for his touch. Sure, he’ll pretend to be her date…but only if they really date. Despite her best efforts to remain immune to his charms, Holly finds herself falling for the man behind the myth. She begins to wonder which island she belongs on…Manhattan or Anguilla…

  WARNING :: Contains an island bad boy with an orgasmic library, and a career-focused heroine who learns that being the focus of one man’s…attentions…isn’t so bad. Clothing optional.

  Holly stepped out on the lanai and held up her cell phone. She breathed a sigh of relief as the bars lit up on the display. Her interlude with Harm on the beach had put her behind schedule and she couldn’t afford to be without her phone. She dialed up her voicemail and turned to look at the house.

  Most of the lights were off, allowing the stars to reflect off the glass facade. But the upper corner glowed like a beacon. The sight drew her eye and her breath. Unaware of his audience stood Harm, enjoying a shower for the world to see.

  Not that there would be many looking. With the rocky outcroppings along his shoreline, no boats would get close enough, and his villa was higher than the house beside his or the collection of bungalows he owned. Right now she was the only one enjoying the view.

  What she wouldn’t give for a pair of binoculars so she could study his muscled physique. Water sluiced down his honed body, the showerheads attached to an interior wall. The muscles of his ass flexed as he moved, his back rippling as he pushed water from his hair.

  “Come on, turn around.” Holly blinked at the sound of her own voice, unaware she’d spoken. She slipped her phone into her pocket, then looked up to find Harm had done as she wished.

  “Oh my.” She pressed her hand to the base of her throat and stared.

  Read on… http://www.jennabayleyburke.com/#!caribbean-casanova/ct83

  Copyright © 2013 Jenna Bayley-Burke

  All rights reserved—a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

  Romance Rekindled

  Is it the end, or a new beginning?

  Jess and Scott haven’t had a conversation in month that didn’t end in a fight. Making up is fun, but the clock is ticking on their marriage. Is a cross-country move the cause of their problems, or the solution?

  The hum of the engines echoed in my ear. I never could sleep for long on planes. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed they wouldn’t be too puffy. I snuggled deeper into the pillow, only then noticing where my body had turned.

  I peeked up at Scott’s sleeping face, his dark lashes fanning against his cheek. We hadn’t slept this close since before I found out he sold the apartment. Up until then I hadn’t been happy about the thought of moving, but I’d open to the possibility. Then the phone call came and the rug had literally been pulled out from under me. We were going, and to drive the point home, he’d sold ours.

  It had been an amazing offer, and if we’d already agreed to the move, I would have been happy about it. As the days passed and moving became imminent it seemed silly to still be angry. I knew everything I held inside I wouldn’t be able to get over, so I let it out.

  It was a New York problem. If Portland was to be a fresh start, I needed to leave it there, with the stack of delivery menus and perfect bagels.

  I snuggled deeper into Scott, my head on his shoulder, lifting one of my legs across his. And then I realized just where my hand was. On the fly of his slacks. If there hadn’t been a blanket covering us, I might have been mortified. Instead, I was simply embarrassed and moved my hand back to my own leg.

  “Now don’t do that,” Scott whispered against my hair, his warm fingers wrapping around my wrist and pulling my hand back to him. “I need to be reminded there are parts of me you like.”

  Read on… http://www.happilybeddedbliss.com/#

  Copyright © 2013 Jenna Allen

  All rights reserved—a Blueberry Eyed Books publication

  ABOUT JENNA

  Jenna Bayley-Burke is a domestic engineer, freelance writer, award-winning recipe developer, romance novelist, cookbook author and freebie fanatic. Blame it on television, a high-sugar diet or ADD; she finds life too interesting to commit to one thing—except her high-school sweetheart, two blueberry-eyed boys and a perfect baby girl. Her stories, both naughty and nice, are available everywhere. To learn more about Jenna Bayley-Burke, please visit www.jennabayleyburke.com.