GIVE A LITTLE is out and I’m excited for you to meet Gray! The Thorne brothers are a bunch of close-knit, have-your-back brothers. They’re also darn sexy, so there’s that. At the root of each book in this series is the importance of family. The brothers, Beckett, Asher, Gray, Ryker, Eli, and Wyatt, forged their
#WriterProblems: When a supporting character jumps into a story and steals the attention from the hero and heroine. This happened to me with Tynan Cates in the Cates Brothers Series. And it’s happening again with Eli in the Thorne Brothers. With each book I’ve written in the Thorne Brothers Series I try to make sure
I’ll admit I was nervous when I began writing Wyatt’s book. Usually my writing process is to come up with a plot idea and then figure out my main characters. But sometimes a character simply appears and tells me who they are. Wyatt was one of those characters. And the more I got to know
Part 1: Cates Brothers Version Asking an author to pick a favorite of her books is like asking a parent to pick which of their children is their favorite. Can’t be done. But…I do have favorite scenes in each book. BRINGING DELANEY HOME: There’s a scene in a diner that I love. Delaney stands up and makes
New Year, New Series! As much as I love my Cates brothers, I’m excited to introduce you to my newest family of brothers, The Thorne Brothers. Here’s a glimpse into what shaped them into the men they are today…
Twenty-three years ago…
By the time I was in the third grade I knew two things for sure.
First, breathing was easier when I knew my brothers were safe. Like right now. I sat with four of my five brothers, scrunched together like peas in a pod on the queen mattress our daddy had rescued from the dump. Our youngest brother, Wyatt, was only two and lay in a playpen next to us trying to suck on his big toe.
“Why is daddy mad?” Gray asked as glass shattered on the other side of the door making us all jump.
Because the sun rose. Because mama got paid so daddy got drunk. Because the social worker came two days ago which meant she wouldn’t visit again for months.
None of that would make a lick of sense to my youngest brothers. I looked over the heads of my little brothers at Asher, who was seven to my eight. Asher knew. But Eli, Gray, and Ryker were too little.
The yelling got louder, almost as loud as when the tropical storm rumbled through the trailer park last summer. Eli’s body trembled up against mine, and I wrapped my arm around him tight.
“Hey, did I tell you guys what happened at recess today? Suzy Baker forgot she had a dress on”—crash—“and did a cartwheel”—you fucking bitch—”and everyone saw her pink underwear.”
Asher looked over at me with a single nod as our little brothers snickered and giggled.
“Gross,” Eli said. Eli was five and everything was gross to him. Mama said it was a phase.
“Yeah, gross,” Ryker and Grayson, both four but ten months apart, echoed Eli.
“Girls are dumb,” Asher added his wisdom just as the bedroom door slammed open.
I shoved my body in front of my little brothers, whipping my head around to the door. My heart pounded up against my chest, only to calm down at the sight of mama.
Our beautiful mama, even with an eye swollen shut and an angry red handprint slapped on her left check and both arms. I’d seen my mama like this before. The suitcase in her hand—that was new. I hadn’t seen that before.
“Boys—I’m leaving. Your daddy’s a mean son-of-a-bitch, and I can’t take it anymore.”
I watched a single tear roll down her bruised cheek as she looked around the room, avoiding our faces.
I had a bad feeling that started like an earthquake in my stomach. Jumping up, I grabbed onto her arm. “You can’t! Mama, you can’t!”
“I have to. You hear me, Beck?” She grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me so hard my teeth cracked together. “I have to.”
“Can we have pancakes when you get back, mama?” Ryker asked.
Her hands dropped from my shoulders and her eyes finally met mine and I knew—she wasn’t planning on coming back. It was like a big gaping pit opened up between us and just maybe I fell in.
“I’m counting on you, Beckett. You take care of your brothers.” Her green eyes darted around frantically and then she was gone.
That was the day I knew the second thing: don’t count on love.
Two days later when our daddy sobered up after his pay-day binge and realized mama was gone, he’d gone into a rage. And that rage set the pattern for the next three years. Daddy was a mean, ugly drunk. I went to bed every night praying and wishing for something to change. That something would stop the life we were stuck in.
I tried to protect my brothers. Most of the time I succeeded and had the bruises and cuts to show for it. Sometimes I didn’t. It was one of those times and a broken bone that finally brought the change I’d been wishing for.
Too bad no one had taught me that expression, be careful what you wish for…
Available for Pre-Order!
GIVE IT UP:
If you enjoy Romantic Suspense romance with a bit of heat and humor, here’s a new release from an author whose books are getting great reviews…Kari Lemor’s FATAL EVIDENCE.
What you don’t know can get you killed . . .
Construction company owner Scott Holland doesn’t go looking for trouble, but he’s just stumbled on plenty. The rundown mill he’s bought is plagued with mysterious incidents, and his investment partner, heiress Heather Silva, is as stubborn as she is intriguing. Dumped by his ex because of his blue-collar job, Scott is wary of Heather’s privileged background. Yet he’s drawn to her independence and strength, especially as the “accidents” grow more terrifying.
Determined to succeed without anyone’s help—especially her wealthy parents—Heather clashes with Scott again and again. But a grisly discovery makes them both targets. Someone wants Heather and Scott silenced for good. And as a killer closes in, the only option is to trust each other—or become the next victims…
Early Praise for Fatal Evidence:
“Fatal Evidence is fun and flirtatious, the characters are nicely developed and the story is engaging. Lemor has brought happily-ever-afters and laughter into the hearts of readers.” ~ RT Book Reviews
“Fatal Evidence has the right amount of everything I love in a book: mystery, suspense, intrigue, sexual chemistry, family drama and great friendships. Throw in an heiress turned real estate agent trying to get out from under her rich family and her entitled role and add a blue-collared construction worker with a chip on his shoulder and it’s perfect. …Enjoyed all the books in this series so far and loved the hint at the next to follow.” ~ Carolyn’s Book Reviews
“Lemor once again incorporates humor, romance and suspense to make this novel another must read!” ~ Goodreads
“Hold still,” he scolded and pulled her tighter to his chest. “Now listen up while I give you the run down on the condos up here.”
He walked around the space as if he wasn’t carrying a full-grown woman in his arms. Damn impressive. The pectoral muscles beneath her hand weren’t too shabby either. Continuing on with his description, he seemed to not even realize she was there. At the windows, he set her down and stood behind her looking out, pointing to certain landmarks in the small mill town that you could see from here.
He had been affected by carrying her. The erection digging into her back was evidence enough. Good to know. Not that she wanted anything to happen. They were business partners now. They had to be professional.
“Ready to go?” His gravelly voice sent goose pimples crawling across her arms, and she rubbed them.
“Cold? You should have worn a warmer coat. You’ve lived in New England all your life. You should know April can be chilly. Plus the heat hasn’t been on in this building for years.”
“I’m fine,” she lied. The cold wasn’t getting to her. It was him and his annoyingly sexy presence. She wouldn’t tell him though.
“I’ll make sure to let you know when the permit comes through. If I don’t have it by next week, I’ll call and check on it.”
“Perfect, but remember I’m in on this too. If you need me to do anything, you only need to ask.”
“I will.” His sexy smile was back as he glanced up and down her body. “Ready for your ride down.”
“You don’t have to carry me. I’m fine walking.”
“And killing yourself by falling down three flights of stairs. Then where does my funding for this project go?”
“You already have access. You don’t need me.”
“Stealing from a dead woman, though. That just seems…wrong.”
The chuckle escaped before she could stop it. He seriously had a warped sense of humor at times. Moving closer, he placed his hand on her hip.
At her indignant look, he said, “You could always ride piggyback if you don’t like me carrying you.”
Scanning her slim skirt, she scoffed. “A piggyback ride? In this?”
“You could hike up the skirt then jump on.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
His eyebrows went up and down. “Very much.”
Closing her eyes, she sighed then held out her arms. “Fine, come get me, my prince. Rescue me from the dangerous crumbling castle.”
Scott sidled closer then ran his hands down her hips. One hand continued down her leg until it slipped under. His other hand caressed her back then he scooped her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as he trotted back down three flights of stairs. At the bottom he didn’t release her right away. And for some reason she didn’t tell him to.
His eyes roamed over her from head to toe and lingered on those heels. Slowly, he allowed her feet to slide to the floor, her body rubbing against his hardness, sending fluttering sensations through her blood stream. As her shoes touched the ground, he leaned in close, his manly smell assaulting her nostrils. Inhaling the scent, she waited for his next words.
His breath drifted across her cheek. “Next time, you should think about wearing a sensible pair of shoes.”
Check out the other books in the Love on the Line series:
Wild Card Undercover: http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34406
Running Target: http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/34984
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