TAKEN
by J.C. Valentine
Publication Date: April 18, 2017
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary, Romance, Standalone, Novella
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SYNOPSIS:
Love is blind…
Especially when you’ve been abducted.
Caught in the dredges of life, Elise had come to the grudging conclusion that mediocrity was all she’d ever have.
Until a routine shopping trip turns into a deadly affair.
Taken. Two men, one a brute and the other an enigma. A cabin in the woods. One dangerous agenda.
Blindfolded and held captive, Elise’s mundane existence just got a whole lot more interesting. Thrust into the unknown, held prisoner by a man with rough hands and a gentle voice, she’s faced with her own demise while struggling against a growing desire for the unacceptable—her captor.
Will Elise make out with her life—and heart—intact?
EXCERPT
#1
What kind of person became attracted to their kidnapper? It was
too early for her to claim Stockholm Syndrome, so that just left insanity. Or
the sex drought. She hadn’t had a close encounter of the penis variety in far
too long to be healthy.
Well, she wasn’t about to start with his!
A door creaked open, and Elise felt the air change as they stepped
into another room, the musty smell of dirt and dust thicker than in the rest of
the place. Spinning her around, Manhandler gave her a gentle push, and Elise
plunked down onto the edge of the bed, its springs screaming in protest as she
bounced and fought against rolling backward into the center of the mattress.
“This thing must be ancient,” she commented without thought.
“I’d say seventies, at least.”
“Seventy years?” Elise screeched in disbelief. She almost leaped
clear off again, considering what manner of filth it must harbor.
“Seventies as in what decade it’s from,” Manhandler clarified.
“That’s not much better.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
And so she would. Elise glared behind her blindfold at him, hoping
he could at least feel her indignation and resentment. Except she hardly felt
it herself, so he probably couldn’t either. Drat. She was a piss poor hostage.
Where was her fire? Her raging sense of self-preservation? That snappy attitude
all the fictional heroines in her plethora of romance novels had?
Left all that back in Neverland, she thought to
herself. A self-deprecating smile began to form. Elise had never been much of a
fighter. Just a sad and lonely girl living in a lonely world. Blah, blah,
blah. Guess I’ll go eat worms.
“Whatever you’re planning, don’t,” Manhandler said in a calm
manner that belied the threat inherent in his statement.
Elise wiped the smile off her face instantly. “I’m not planning
anything.”
“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Let’s keep it that way, shall
we?” His hand smacked her thigh, startling her. “Lie down. Get some sleep.”
Elise eased herself down onto her side, grimacing as she thought
of all the critters that were probably living among the blankets and within the
mattress. God, was the pillow even safe to touch? “Where will you be?”
She heard Manhandler move around to the opposite side of the bed,
and when he sat down, her body rolled to meet him in the middle. “Right here,
buttercup.”
Elise gasped, scrambling for the edge of the bed—as far from him
as possible without defying his orders.
“What,” he said with a laugh. “Did you really think I was going to
leave you alone in here, so you could get up to mischief? Not hardly.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d been thinking, but Elise would have
done some snooping around, maybe searched for an exit. Not that she expected
either man to leave her in any position to get them into trouble. They seemed
to be one step ahead at every turn. Turns that were few and far between.
Elise froze in place as he settled in behind her. Releasing a
little groan of approval, he shocked her to hell and back when he grabbed her
around the middle and hauled her back up against his chest. Breath puffing
against the back of her neck, Manhandler said in a sleepy voice, “This is for
your protection as much as it is mine. Don’t get any ideas, just sleep, and
we’ll get along just fine. Deal?”
What could she possibly say? No deal? He had her right where he
wanted her, leaving Elise no choice but to play the hand she was being dealt.
Unable to make her voice work, Elise simply jerked her head in affirmation.
“Glad you agree, buttercup.” Within a matter of seconds, he was
out cold, his arm a vice holding her in place. And Elise? Well, she wasn’t
going to sleep anytime soon.
Dance for Me
by J.C. Valentine
Forbidden, #1
Publication Date: April 7, 2015
Genres: Adult, Erotic, Romance
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Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Emmxi
SYNOPSIS:
What if the person who stole your heart wasn’t who you thought they were?
When my parents passed away, I grew up fast. Learning to stand on my own two feet has been a challenge, but I’m making it… my way. I make no apologies for the path I’ve chosen. My choices have served me well, but no one knows the real me.
Except one man.
He’s a mystery to me. He’s controlling, demanding, and he has me wrapped around his little finger. Anything he wants, I’ll give it to him. The hours we share together aren’t about love. It’s just sex. Hot, dirty, passionate sex. It was never supposed to be anything more than that.
Until everything changed.
Now, I’m more confused than ever. The more I learn about him, the less I seem to understand. What I do know is that I’m falling, and I have the feeling when I land, it’s going to hurt.
EXCERPT #1.
At the end of the
stage, I grasp the gleaming silver pole and twist, pressing my back into it.
The shadowed figures watching my every move hover in the darkness just beyond
my reach, urging me on.
Slowly, I slide down
the length of the metal bar, my legs bending at the knee and opening wide,
exposing the glittering gold strip that serves as a barrier between their eyes
and the most intimate part of me.
There is something
about taking my clothes off for strangers that I find
exhilarating. It’s the knowledge that all those eyes are focused on
me, on every movement, no matter how small, and that I affect them. It gives me
a sense of control, of power. I push these men to the brink, testing the limits
of their willpower, and the only thing they can do is watch.
And give me their
money.
Dropping to my knees,
I crawl across the stage. Encased in stretchy gold fabric, my breasts sway with
each movement, creating a hypnotizing effect. Men can’t get enough of breasts,
and thankfully, I have plenty to flaunt.
A few feet from the
end of the stage, when I have reached as far as I am willing to go, I stretch
my arms across the hard, cool surface, like a cat. Making eye contact with the
darkness, I’m aware that whoever is on the other side is meeting my gaze with
strained desire. Easing onto my back, I lift my hands overhead and stretch my
long legs into the air, opening them wide, and then closing them again. The
arch of my back presses my breasts toward the ceiling. Imagining what I must
look like—nearly naked, needyand wanting, my body moving and arching,
calling for my love to take me here, now—makes me feel edgy and wanton. As if
the little clothing I wear is too much, threatening to smother me.
I’m not an exhibitionist,
but there are times like this that an almost overpowering need to push past my
own limits threatens to consume me. It takes everything I have to pull back.
Rotating onto my
stomach, I push up onto my knees, reach for the pole again, and pull myself up.
With both hands, I lift myself from the floor and bring both of my legs up,
swinging in a full circle. Bills flutter to the stage, and I feel my smile inch
up, slow and seductive.
It is then that I
feel Him.
I’d noticed Him
my first night on the job about five months ago before I
learned the importance of lighting. He stuck to the perimeter of the room,
choosing the same table in the same dark corner every time. From what I could
tell, he had long legs, he was tall and had dark,
almost midnight hair. The air ofimportance that cloaked Him made
me peg Him as a professional. Although he alternated between jeans and slacks,
polos and button-downs, I remember thinking he looked like the kind of guy who
should be wearing business suits—sharp, expensive, and tailored.
He isn’t a regular by
any stretch, but he’s definitely a creature of habit. I’d only
seen him a total of four times before I began plunging the room into
darkness—and I’ve only felt his presence a handful since—but I never miss the
short glass, two-fingers, neat. My stomach flutters remembering those
dark, penetrating eyes focused solely on me, glued to my every move, every
sway, reading my body like a book. I’d never been more turned on in
my life than the day I laid eyes on him—a perfect stranger.
KNOCKOUT
by J.C. Valentine
Wayward Fighter, #1
Publication Date: April 6, 2014
Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance, MMA Fighter
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SYNOPSIS:
From the wrong side of the tracks…
Alyson Blake had learned early on that the only one she could depend on was herself. The only light in her life was a boy whom everyone agreed was destined for prison; but with his first kiss, he had set her soul on fire. Since the day the police dragged him away in handcuffs, she had managed to lead a quiet life, but when she attends an event fraught with mayhem, trouble resurfaces.
The one person she can’t forget…
Jamison Weston is the kind of guy dads load their shotguns for; endowed with a hot temper and a rap sheet as long as both tattooed arms. Known as “The Judge,” Jami’s hot temper, lethal fists, and cocky attitude have earned him respect and admiration both in and out of the ring. But just when he thinks he’s pummeled his past to death, Alyson Blake reenters his life.
Two paths collide…
After years of separation, Alyson is eager to reexplore the man who’s never left her thoughts, but for Jamison, she’s both the distraction he wants, but doesn’t need. As the two embark on a relationship that neither of them expected or bargained for, an outside threat closes in. When Alyson crosses the line of professionalism and takes her work home with her, her life is put in danger, leaving Jamison with no choice but to once again step in and become her protector.
EXCERPT
Her
eyes warmed as she studied him. Touching his face, she traced the line of his
jaw from ear to chin. Then her fingers found his lips. He opened his mouth and
licked the tips as she skimmed his bottom lip, and he committed the sultry look
that flashed in her eyes to memory. “You don’t lie to me, do you?”
Jami
held her head in his hands and looked into her eyes. “No, and I never will.”
Jami couldn’t tear his eyes away. She smiled up at him, her expression soft,
welcoming. Completely open to him. No one had ever looked at him quite like she
did. As if she trusted him, and she did. He knew that. It wasn’t even a
question.
He
could fall in love with this girl. With this woman. This person who was his friend,
and the only one who knew everything about his past—everything—and didn’t judge
him for it. Even Coach didn’t know what he had done before they crossed paths.
He knew he had a history with the cops and a bad home life, and that was the
extent of it. Was she what people thought about when they thought of soul
mates? The type of person they dreamed of when combing the world for The One?
How
was a guy to know?
“If
you keep looking at me like that, you’re face is going to freeze. All the guys
at the gym will laugh at you, and then I’ll be forced to fight for your honor.”
Jami
smirked, peeled her shirt up to expose her abdomen, and lowered his head. He
glanced up at her. “You have a sassy mouth, Ally. I aim to fix that.”
“What—Jami!”
Ally wheezed and squirmed beneath him in a futile attempt to escape his teasing
tongue. Again and again, he swirled his tongue across her stomach, chuckling
with each clench of her muscles, each lost breath, and squeal of delighted
torture. When she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled, he decided to
have mercy on her before she ripped a chunk of it from his scalp.
Somehow,
he just didn’t think bald or patchy would be a good look for a guy his age.
“All
right, okay,” he said, pulling her hands away gently. “Truce.”
Her
laughter abated. When he let go of her hands, her arms fell out to the side.
“You’re such an ass,” she panted. “My abs will hurt tomorrow, thanks to
you.”
“No,
thanks to you,” he corrected her. “It’s that sassy mouth getting you into
trouble.” He was grinning, amusement, and true joy filling him up to the brink
of overflowing. “You make me happy,” he blurted out.
Ally’s
smile faltered and Jami wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? Touching
his face, Ally angled her head, studying him. “I’m glad. You’re always so
serious. You need to smile more.”
“I
smile all the time,” he protested.
She
rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’re right. What was I thinking? You smile every day
when you get to beat on poor Mike and whatshisname. You’re a very happy man then.”
“Hey,
you gotta take it where you can get it.” Jami shrugged.
Silence
fell between them, and they stared into each other’s eyes. This close, there
was never any room for escape. It felt like he could see into her soul, and she
into his. All the layers of bullshit were stripped away, cutting right to the
heart. He’d never felt this way before. As a sliver of truth sat on his tongue,
he opened his mouth to say what he knew she was waiting to hear. “Ally, I—” His
throat closed up and no words came out.
Placing
her finger over his lips, Ally hushed him. “Shh, you don’t have to say
anything. I can see it every time I look at you.” She kissed him lightly on the
mouth. “I feel it whenever you touch me.”
“But
you want—”
She
cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait. I don’t want you to say it unless
you feel it in here.” She flattened her palm over his heart. “I don’t want you
to choke on the words. I want you to say them because you can’t not say them.
Okay?”
He
stared down at her. Who was this girl? Hundreds of women would be lined up
outside his door just to hear those words, and she was telling him to wait?
Unbelievable.
“I see those wheels
turning,” she teased, then grew serious again. “Jami, let me ask you a
question. Out of all the women you’ve had sex with, how many of them have you
stuck around for?” Zero. She saw the answer in his eyes right away. “That’s
what I thought, and that right there is why I am okay with waiting. Your heart
already knows what it wants. Now we just have to wait for your brain to catch
up.”
GRIT
by J.C. Valentine
Spartan Riders, #1
Publication Date: April 19, 2016
Genres: Adult, MC Romance, Contemporary, Romance, Biker
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SYNOPSIS:
Gabby Morgan isn’t looking for love. Not even a little romance. Following a rocky past that she’d just as soon forget, she’s determined to focus on the future. One that most certainly doesn’t involve the tough-as-nails, short-on-words, hot-as-hell biker…or his kid.
Blake Mahone may not be done with women, but he’s finished with relationships. Then Gabby Morgan enters the picture. She’s flawless, refined, and as his kid’s teacher, way out of his league. She acts like she hates him, but her eyes tell a different story. Before he knows it, Blake finds himself hot for teacher, and he’s more than ready to learn all her secrets. Now all he has to do is convince her to give him a shot…without getting them both killed in the process.
Excerpt #1
A
shadow eclipsed the sun and Gabby looked up, mouth running dry, as Blake headed
her way. Apart from his bike, he towered over her. His shoulder-length hair was
drawn back into one of those man buns that had recently become so popular, but
she suspected he’d made it his thing before it was a “thing.” Once again he’d
opted for a pair of worn jeans that fit his body to perfection, with a black
leather vest, otherwise known as a cut, sporting a president patch, his name,
and the name of their township.
He
strode up to her with absolute confidence, his expression set in what she
decided to dub constipated. When he reached her, only stopping when they were
nearly touching from shoulder to thigh, he folded his arms across his broad
chest and stared her down.
“Didn’t
think you’d show.”
Seeing
right through his macho posturing, Gabby canted her head to the side and smiled
sweetly. “Well, you did invite me.”
“Ash
invited you. I was simply being nice.”
Gabby
snorted. Nice wasn’t a word she would use to describe him. “I didn’t realized
that word was part of your vocabulary.”
“There’s
a lot you don’t know about me.”
“If
you want me to go, just say so.”
“You’d
like that, I’m sure.” His lips pressed together and his jaw clenched. “Ash
wants you here, and here you are. What more is there to say.”
“How
about welcome to the party for starters.”
“My
manners don’t extend that far. Look, lady, we’re not friends. You’re my kid’s
teacher and for some reason he likes you, so I’m going to play nice. Grab
yourself a plate, mingle, whatever. It’s no sweat off my back what you decide
to do. Just don’t piss anyone off.”
Any
more than she clearly already had him? Mirroring his stance, Gabby narrowed her
eyes on him, her irritation piqued. “Look, Mr. Mahone, I’m not here to pick a
fight with you, so how about you dial down the snarky attitude a few notches.”
One of his dark brows winged up making him appear far more intense than usual.
Undaunted, she pressed on. “Furthermore, you claim that I gave you an unfair
shake, and maybe I did. So this is me extending an olive branch. I came here,
curious to see if you would prove me wrong, but so far you’re only succeeding
in proving me right.”
She
watched as his gray eyes grew hard and a muscle in his jaw pulsed. Whatever he
wanted to say, he didn’t. “Suit yourself, teach. I’d stick around and introduce
ya, but I’ve got other shit to do.”
With
that, he turned and marched away, his shoulders stiff and his long strides eating
up the patchy lawn faster than a herd of cattle.
ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Trilogy. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.
Living in the Northwest, she has three amazing children and far too many pets. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
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