Can perfect strangers turn an accidental marriage into a love that will last forever?

Out now! The hot new contemporary romance BEFORE DAYLIGHT by Andie J. Christopher

Follow the blast and enter to win an ebook of either Dusk Until Dawn or Break of Day

Title: Before Daylight

Series: One Night in South Beach

Author: Andie J. Christopher

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: April 17, 2018

Word Count: 60,000

Perfect Strangers 

Ballerina Laura Delgado is just one solo away from a dream job with the New York City Ballet.  Then a drunken pas de deux at her cousin’s wedding results in the one thing she never wanted—a husband. TV producer Charlie Laughlin may be deliciously kissable, but she needs him offstage now, and out of her life.

 Perfect Disaster

Charlie’s ready for marriage and kids, and on the lookout for just the right woman. Laura doesn’t fit the bill at all—but Charlie can’t stop thinking about the sultry way they moved together. And he can’t help but wonder if he can change the gorgeous dancer’s mind about leaving Miami with heated kisses that promise as much as they demand . . .

Perfect Partners 

Annulling their sham marriage is all Laura wants—until she gets to New York and realizes that leaving Charlie behind is easier said than done. Can a relationship that began as a hot mistake become the kind of love that will last forever?

Available on: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks

Short Excerpt 1:
Stock still, Laura Delgado stared at her Grandpa Rogelio with her mouth open. All the oxygen and all good sense in the universe had been sucked out of the room. Her dressing room had turned into the upside-down. Then, her knees gave out, and she dropped to the couch without meaning to.

Married!? My what!? The word husband echoed over and over in Laura’s head. The two syllables sounded foreign and hostile. The disjointed—and altogether frightening—sounds reminded her of a Russian ballet master she’d once studied with. He’d thwacked her with a violin bow when she missed a step. The bow was less painful than the idea that she was actually married.

In her mind, marriage had always equaled death—a slow, painful, wasting disease suffered while handcuffed to the cause of death. And she’d just found out that she was terminal.

“Unless we get his signature, I can’t file your taxes.” Two days from the deadline. Her grandfather had the audacity to smirk at her as though he found this situation funny. He thought the fact that she was married and only found out about it…funny. If she didn’t love her Grandpa Rogelio so much, she would be tempted to punch him in his still-handsome face. But, given that he was her favorite relative and he’d done her taxes without incident since she got her first paycheck from the company at eighteen, she just clenched her jaw.

And to make things even worse than the mere fact that she was married was the guy she was married to. Charlie Fucking Laughlin. With his artfully scruffy beard, his too-long hair, and naughty-looking mouth. He was smooth-talking and smug. Everyone loved him because he was so nice, but no one was that nice. Laura didn’t like nice. Didn’t trust nice. And now, nice-Charlie Laughlin was allegedly her husband.

She’d never intended to get married, and she certainly didn’t picture ever ending up with someone like Charlie. He was too much everything—too handsome, too tall, and too sexy. By the time she was fourteen, right before she’d left home to join the ballet, she’d decided that she wanted nothing to do with marriage. Her parents had screwed it up enough to put her off the institution entirely.

There was no way she was going to end up tethered to someone like her father. Unlike her father, Charlie had a sense of humor, but he had the same charisma that her father used to try to control everyone around him. No way she was about to give herself no escape but the bottom of a pill bottle. Even though Charlie wasn’t an emotionally abusive dick bag, he would end up trying to control her—he would want more of her than she could give.

How many Mai Tais—and how much tequila—had she had to drink? The only way she would have gotten married was if she’d been bombed out of her mind—or if he’d tied her up and dragged her down the aisle. But that would have left a mark.

If she had been on her guard, acting like herself, this never would have happened.

Images of a pink beach and matching pink drinks flooded her consciousness. The soft caress of the Indonesian breeze, the fuzzy joy at seeing her cousin, Carla, joyfully happy on her wedding day, and her disquiet at how much she didn’t miss dancing during the three months she was out of commission from a groin injury slammed into her mind from the recesses of her memory. Since returning to the ballet, she’d stuffed thoughts of that night down so far that they exploded back like matter packed too densely in space.

But, every so often, her mind drifted to kissing Charlie at sunset, away from the crowd. It was the craziest thing she’d ever done—kissing a stranger. She couldn’t get the feeling of his lips on hers out of her head. It was as though he’d stamped an impression on her, an invisible tattoo of his effect on her. Her entire life up until that point had been about discipline, training, dieting, and taking in criticism. She’d been a changeling at the behest of everyone in her life, and she knew that she could never let anyone know what was underneath her exterior. But there was something about the way he’d looked at her that had penetrated the wall she’d built around herself to avoid the pain of feeling she was never quite good enough, never quite the best. The feeling of his gaze on her skin—the feeling of him really looking at her—lingered along with the imprint of his mouth.

More from One Night in South Beach 

Stroke of Midnight

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Dusk Until Dawn

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Break of Day

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Author Bio:
USA Today Bestselling author Andie J. Christopher writes edgy, funny, sexy contemporary romance. She grew up in a family of voracious readers, and picked up her first Harlequin Romance novel at age twelve when she’d finished reading everything else in her grandmother’s house. It was love at first read. It wasn’t too long before she started writing her own stories — her first heroine drank Campari and wore a lot of Esprit.

Although, she set aside writing fiction for a while, her love of romance novels stayed with her through college, law school, and multiple cross-country moves. During one long East Coast winter, she decided writing a book would be a good excuse to avoid braving the elements. It was love at first write. Her heroes are dirty-talking alphas, and her heroines traded Esprit for Free People. (None of them would turn down a Campari, though.)

You can visit her online at the following places: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub | Instagram | Pinterest

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2018 Margaret Margaret

THE LAST KING

Beckett and Samara’s story is now available!

Ultra wealthy and super powerful, the King family is like royalty in Texas. But who will keep the throne? New York Times bestselling author Katee Robert introduces a red-hot new series.

Keep reading to get a sneak peek excerpt and enter the giveaway for one of ten (10) print copies of THE LAST KING!

Title: The Last King

Author: Katee Robert

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: April 3, 2018

Publisher: Forever

Series: The Kings

Page Count: 336 pages

Format: Digital

ASIN: B074M69QLF

ISBN: 978-1455597109

THE MAN SHE HATES TO LOVE

Beckett King just inherited his father’s fortune, his company-and all his enemies. If he’s going to stay on top, he needs someone he can trust beside him. And though they’ve been rivals for years, there’s no one he trusts more than Samara Mallick.

The rebel. That’s how Samara has always thought of Beckett. And he’s absolutely living up to his unpredictable ways when he strides into her office and asks for help. She can’t help wondering if it’s a legit request or just a ploy to get her into bed. Not that she’d mind either one. After all, she likes to live on the edge too.

But soon the threats to the King empire are mounting, and the two find family secrets darker than they ever imagined and dangerous enough to get them both killed.

Praise for The Last King:

“Top Pick! Beckett and Samara are a fantastic, modern couple. They clash in the boardroom and the bedroom, are total equals, and their bring-it-on spirit makes every interaction lively and exciting — whether clothes are on or off. … The heart of this romance is the development of trust between Beckett and Samara, and Robert expertly unfolds it, revealing the emotional connection on both sides under the flash and fire of their irresistible chemistry. 4 1/2 stars.”—RT Book Reviews

Available at: 

Amazon: http://bit.ly/TheLastKingAmazon

B&N: http://bit.ly/TheLastKingBN

iTunes: http://bit.ly/TheLastKingiTunes

Kobo: http://bit.ly/TheLastKingKobo

Enter to win one of ten (10) print copies of THE LAST KING!

ENTER HEREà http://bit.ly/2unJYbK

<a class=”rcptr” href=”http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b050ef29499/&#8221; rel=”nofollow” data-raflid=”b050ef29499″ data-theme=”classic” data-template=”” id=”rcwidget_qqftoq7v”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>

<script src=”https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js”></script&gt;

The Last King Excerpt

Copyright © 2018 Katee Robert

Heaven was Samara in a little green dress.

Beckett watched her walk across the lobby, her mile-long legs eating up the distance with ease. That glimpse of wildness she’d given him last night was in full effect today, her hair a mass of black waves that seemed to curl and snap around her shoulders with each step. Her dress fitted her like a second skin, sloping down over her breasts, her stomach, to her hips and thighs.

But it was her dark eyes that drew and held him. Anger and desire and something like guilt lingered there, and she held his gaze as she stopped in front of him. “Do I meet your expectation?”

“You’re beautiful.”

She arched a single eyebrow. “I know.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. Beckett turned to the elevator bank and offered his elbow. The gentlemanly move was over-the-top for their current circumstances, but he couldn’t be this close to her without touching her. Kissing her now, here, was a terrible damn idea, so he’d settle for the small touch. “No false modesty. I like that.”

“I think we’ve established that I don’t operate based on what you like.” Despite her words, amusement pulled at the edges of her lips, and she set her hand carefully on his forearm. “Every time I think I have your number down, you surprise me. Most guys get pissy pants if a woman doesn’t fall at their feet when they call her beautiful.”

“I’m not most guys.” He waited for the elevator door to open and led her onto it. “You can’t fit me into a box and write me off, Samara.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” She shook her head, her hair brushing against his shoulder. “My life would be a whole lot easier if I could.”

He couldn’t argue that, so he didn’t bother. Beckett took them up to the executive level. He noted the way she studied everything, obviously filing away every bit of information she could lay her eyes on. “What does Lydia pay you these days?”

She dropped her arm and stepped back. “Oh no. I don’t think so.” She pointed at him. “We went over this last night. I’m not for sale.”

“It’s an innocent question.”

“It is most definitely not an innocent question.” She looked like she wanted to take off her shoe and throw it at his head. “I don’t care what issue you and your aunt have. I’m not part of it. You don’t get to use me as leverage. I’m not a pawn for either of you to sacrifice in this pissing match you have going on.”

Shame tried to take hold, but he wouldn’t let it. Samara knew the game, no matter how much it apparently offended her. “I’m the bad guy for trying to offer you a job, but I’m sure you agreed to show up here solely out of the goodness of your heart.” He pretended to think about it. “Wait, no you didn’t—which you already admitted. You’re here because Lydia wants to do whatever it takes to sink Morningstar. Full stop.” He motioned at the offices behind him. “Wake up, Samara. I’m only playing the game she made the rules for.”

She took in the empty COO office on the other side of the glass wall. “She poached your employees.”

“Convenient timing, don’t you think?”

“You’re not still harping on that paranoid talk about Lydia meeting Nathaniel.” Samara hesitated and then moved to stand in front of him. She pressed her lips together and then very gently said, “Do you think maybe it’s a good idea for you to talk to someone?”

Beckett jerked back. “What?”

There was nothing but sympathy in her dark eyes. “I’m serious, Beckett. I’ve known you a long time, at least by reputation, and this delusion you have going isn’t like you. Is it possible that Nathaniel’s death is hitting you harder than you realize? That you’re fixating on Lydia instead of your own grief because it’s easier to deal with an enemy than face the fact you can never make things right with your father?”

Every word flayed him, cutting to the quick. Beckett gritted his teeth against the need to tell Samara that she was the one who wasn’t thinking clearly. To yell. To expel some of the ugliness that had been brewing in him for a very, very long time. “I didn’t call you here to offer you a job, and I sure as hell don’t need a shrink.”

She stood her ground as he advanced. Her heels put them at the same height and she still managed to look down her nose at him. “Then why did you call me here?”

Because I can’t spend another moment alone without going out of my mind.

He didn’t say it. To admit how long it had been since he’d felt a connection with another person was to hand Samara—Lydia—a loaded gun and invite her to point it directly at him. He didn’t answer her verbally at all. Beckett cupped her waist and slowly pulled her against him, giving her plenty of time to register his intentions.

“Beckett.” Despair colored her tone and she gave a desperate laugh. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know.” Using a hand on the small of her back, he pressed her firmly against him. “I don’t want to stop.”

Samara hesitated, but finally placed her hands gingerly against his chest. He waited, letting her decide. Yes or no. Push or pull. Stay or go. She hitched a breath. “I don’t want to stop, either.”

About Katee Robert

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

Connect with Katee at: Website | Facebook | Twitter| GoodReads | Instagram

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2018 Margaret Margaret