Hello everyone and happy fall! 
I am so excited to say that Scorned Queen is in the works! This book will be a spice filled battle to the throne you wont want to miss. So, in honor of this, I am giving away Protege King, book 1 in the Wall Street Empire series, for FREE.  Yes, you read that right FREE! 

Okay, my dear readers, let's chat for a minute :)

As I was writing Strictly Business, Damion West was always a King to me. I just love this character and his relationship with Alana. I decided, I love this book so much, I need a cover that introduces you to Damion properly! So here you go...THE DAMION WEST. New cover, new title, new series name, updated blurb, but same story that I'm currently writing and LOVING!
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So without further ado, I give you what was previously Strictly Business and is now: PROTEGE KING (book one in the Wall Street Empire series) with a FREAKING GORGEOUS COVER (photo courtesy of the amazing Wander Aguiar)!

Damion West was the boy who stole my young heart and then broke it. That was a long time ago though and I’m not a girl susceptible to hot boys with big egos who just happen to kiss well anymore. Nor have I kept up with Damion West. Okay, I have. Everyone has. He's the heir to West Enterprises, and notoriously loud on social media.
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Everyone knows Damion West.
Just not like I do.
But that's another story better left untold.

It’s hard sometimes to remember that I’m no slouch myself. Confidence isn't exactly my forte but I fake it well. I’ve worked with my parents’ real estate firm catering to the rich and famous for years and I'm now one of the top agents in the country. Blue Enterprises is the name of our firm, which is also my name. Blue. Alana Blue. And now I'm on TV, the star of Selling in New York.

But every family has secrets. Damion's does and mine does as well.
That's why I have the TV show I didn't really want.
Nothing is real.

Except him. Damion. He's real. So is my past with him. But it's the past.
Then one day I get called to a meeting by the studio head, it's all very secretive.
Because it's not the studio at all, or actually, it is. Because his family owns everything.

That's right.
The meeting is with him. It's with Damion West.
And Lord help me, he's now sexier, and more arrogant than ever.

Also it turns out that what Damion wants from me isn't as simple as a real estate contract.
But it's a contract all right.

To celebrate the upcoming release of PROTEGE KING on May 16th, I'm giving away a $100 Amazon Gift Card! There are tons of ways to enter below! Winner will be announced after pre-orders have closed on May 17th. Winner announced in my newsletter and contacted directly by May 25, 2023.
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If you pre-ordered before this giveaway went live, you can STILL enter to win :)

Passionflix released the very first teaser trailer for my Secret Life of Amy Bensen TV series and I am SO EXCITED! Plus, they revealed that it will begin streaming on December 22nd!! And early Christmas present for us all!

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​“You’re going to have to share your room with me, sweetheart,” he says, and he doesn’t allow me time to object or even savor that endearment, not that objection is on my mind. I’m thinking of nothing but his mouth and hands on my body and this time, mine on his.
 
He opens the door and enters the room, maneuvering me along with him. The door slams shut behind us, and he’s already kissing me again. This time when his fingers find my hair, he gives the long strands an erotic tug and drags my gaze to his. “Control in all things, Bella. It’s who I am. It’s what I need, not a want.”
 
“And as you remember,” I say, my fingers curling on his chest, “I don’t like what I can’t control, which I guess actually means I like control, too.”
 
“And you have it with me,” he promises. “Always. All you have to say is no, and we find what feels like a yes to you. You asked if I trust you. I’m asking you now, if you trust me.”
 
I consider the complexity of the question. Do I trust him to listen when I say no? Yes. Do I trust him not to break my heart? I’m pretty sure that’s signed, sealed, and delivered, so, no. Do I trust him to make tonight all about pleasure? The kind of pleasure I’ll remember long after he is married off to his future fiancée. Yes. That’s a brutal yes because of where this is headed, which is nowhere but right here, right now, but one I can’t walk away from, either. “Yes,” I say. “I trust you.”
 
“I don’t think you do, Bella,” he murmurs, and the way he uses my name—it’s as if he wants me to know I’m not just sex to him. Or maybe I just want to believe that—even need to believe that—to be here with him, to be this intimate with him. Because I’m still me. I’m still not the “sex is sex” kind of girl, even if he aspires to change that in me. “But I want you to trust me so damn badly it’s insane,” he adds roughly, an edge of frustration in him, as if this statement somehow contradicts the control he so values.
 
It shakes me just how much I’m pleased that I’ve tormented him in some way, as if it’s selfish of me. I know this, but Lord also knows I’m tormented over this marriage agreement he’s obviously accepted. And if I think too hard about it, I will run. I will leave.
 
I don’t want to leave.
 
I press to my toes, desperate for his mouth and body, for that oblivion he’s shown me once that I crave once again.
 
His grip tightens gently round my hair, the act both arousing and brutal, as he denies me his mouth. “I’m going to make you trust me, Bella,” he declares, and then, thank you Lord, his mouth slants over my mouth, his tongue caressing my tongue. And it’s a toe-curling, deep, drugging kiss that leaves me breathless when his lips part mine. “Undress, baby,” he orders. “I want to watch.” 

BINGE READ THE ENTIRE LUKE TRILOGY NOW!
Luke’s Sin (book one)
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Lucifer's Revenge (book three)
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"You’re my everything, Ana. You know that, right? I cannot lose you again.”
I’d tell him I feel the same. I’d tell him how much I need him and how thankful I am that he’s here now, but I never get the chance. His mouth slants over my mouth. And then he’s kissing me again, and it’s not the tentative, trying-to-hold-back kiss he’d offered me downstairs. No, this kiss is different. It’s possessive, greedy even, a fierce addictive demand of his tongue, that is as seductive as it is impossible to resist. This is what I need. He is what I need right now.
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I lean into him, press to my toes, and reach for any and every part of him I can manage to touch. Touching him is as addictive as the kiss and I can’t get enough of his sinewy muscle beneath my hands. I want him naked, but somehow that feels too complicated, and everything is just so damn complicated right now. I slide my hand down the front of his jeans and press my palm to the thick bulge of his erection against his zipper.

A low, gruff sound escapes his lips and he lifts me and carries me toward the bathroom, which I suspect is because the lock on the door of the bedroom is broken and we are about to be naked and not soon enough. He sets me down, his hands sliding under my shirt, his fingers roughly teasing my nipples. I moan against the sensation, and his mouth on my mouth, drinking in the sound, drinking in me. I’ve had moments in my time with Luke when I’ve been desperate for him, but this time is different. This time it feels like everything we are together is on the line and I don’t know why. He is here. I am here. We both want to be here.
Maybe it’s the realization that we were never in control. We never chose to travel the path that divided us. Everyone else did, and one of those people is tied up downstairs. Someone I should be happy to see, but for reasons I can’t explain, that reach deeper than his lies, that’s not what I feel. I don’t know what I feel.

And I’m thinking too much.

Luke handles that though. God does he. He drags my shirt over my head, and my bra is gone in seconds. Already he’s leaning in, suckling my nipples, sending waves of pleasure through me. My fingers dive into his hair, twisting, and not gently. His mouth is not gentle either. He suckles me to the point of pain that is an absolute pleasure. How does he know exactly what to do? How does he get everything so right? My sex clenches, and I am so wet, it’s almost embarrassing, an intense throb between my legs, where I need him nice and hard and buried deep right now. Because that’s what I want. Him inside me. Me lost in every thrust and pump of his body. Lost in him. Connected to him, so much so that there is room for nothing but him. I reach for his pants again, impatient for him, God, I need him. He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “Say it, Ana.”

“Which part? I love you or please fuck me?”

His eyes glow with male satisfaction, which I love, as much as I do him. Because that look in his eyes means he’s the kind of animal I need right now. “Fuck me, please,” I repeat.

He kisses me, biting my lips, pinching my nipples and it’s a brutal, sweet perfection. I’m panting when his lips part mine, and he turns me to face the sink forcing me to catch my hands on the counter. I’d complain about not being able to touch him, but he’s touching me, and that makes up for it. His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and he watches me, my teeth worrying my lip, eyes fluttering. But even when they shut, I can feel his hot, hungry stare, feel his lust and desire.