Hi, I’m Aubrey Irons, and we’re knee-deep
into my favorite season. Yep, I love the Fall, and just about everything about
it. Apple cider, crunchy fall leaves, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg baking
into butternut squash, apple cider donuts, hayrides, harvest festivals, the
chill in the air, and the gorgeous background of reds and oranges. I’m from New
England, and I have to say, we do Fall right.
So, it should also go without saying that
my favorite holiday is Halloween. It’s not for the slutty costumes or the
candy, although let’s be fair, it’s fun to get a little scandalous, and who doesn’t love free chocolate? But, what I
truly love about Halloween is the sense of enchanting (and maybe just a pinch
of spooky) wonder that you just can’t help but feel on a perfectly chilly,
moonlit night. A big part of it is the nostalgia it brings from being a kid;
the sense of adventure in putting on a mask and becoming someone or something else, even just for one night. The
giddy excitement of staying up late and running around getting free candy, and
the feeling that even though it’s dark, and even a little scary outside, you aren’t scared, because you’re one of the scary ones.
To me, it’s also a holiday that feels the
most like a book, because it’s the one day a year where you’re allowed to just escape into your own little world of
illusion and charm.
But like most holidays, Halloween tends
to lose a little of that magic as you get older. You trade candy for stolen
sips of alcohol, tricks for exploratory first kisses, and dressing like
Strawberry Shortcake for, well, the whorishly slutty version of poor Strawberry
Shortcake. Your parents take over for Santa on Christmas, you stop looking for
hidden eggs on Easter, and we generally trade the magic of childhood for the responsibilities
and straightforwardness of adult life. At some point, we may even strive to get
a little of that magic back, but usually it’s with the easy one’s like
Christmas; I mean, how hard is it to get into that holiday cheer when it’s
festooned around every store for a month and a half?
Halloween, however, gets left behind;
left to exist only in hazy memories that have since been recorded over with
sexy costumes, that night at college where things got very interesting after a bottle of peppermint schnapps, and
generally just growing up.
Boo to that.
This Halloween, I say take back the
enchantment. Go for a hayride, go apple picking, go to that holiday party your
slightly younger and slightly more single friends keep asking you to come to,
but trade skip the naughty nurse outfit (well, at least save it for later ;) )
for something scary! Carve a damn
pumpkin! The point is, it’s never too late to take back a little of that magic
that chilly, spooky, moonlit harvest nights used to hold. So go on, go heat up
some cider (heck, dump a little rum in it), take a walk through the pumpkin
patch, and curl up for a movie with the lights off that’ll keep you up for a
week.
And then,
of course, go put on that nurse costume and have a little fun ;).
So! What are some ways you can think of to hang on to that spooky Halloween magic?
Heat
A Soldiers of Fortune Romance
Aubrey Irons
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Military Romance,
New Adult Romance, Billionaire Romance,
Alpha Male, Bad-Boy
Date of Publication: 8/11/15
ASIN: B013TVO5VQ
Number of pages: 237 (kindle)
Word Count: 58,000
Cover Artist: Aubrey Irons
Book Description:
Five years ago, that cocky, egotistical a**hole played me like a fool and broke my heart.
Hudson Banks; the dominant, tattooed, womanizing, ex-Marine-turned-billionaire who runs God-knows-what at my late father’s company.
Oh, and he’s sexy as all f**k, and he damn well knows it.
He’s like a gasoline fire; a scorchingly hot disaster, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to get burned.
I’m on track to be the youngest New York State Senator ever elected; the bright, gutsy, good-girl media darling. Except my campaign funding just went dry, and it looks like the only solution is coming from the last person on Earth I’d ever want to take anything from. Oh, and it turns out bad-boy, tough-guy Hudson will be shadowing me 24/7 after he makes it clear that he’s in charge of "protecting the investment".
Yeah, just perfect; a reckless, irresistible d*ck like Hudson Banks is the last person I need being “in charge” of anything to do with me.
Especially when I still can’t forget the taste of his lips or the feeling of that massive hardness I know he’s packing between his legs. It’s not fair that he’s even hotter now than he was back then. It’s not fair that those smoldering, arrogant eyes and that cocky, panty-melting grin still make me warm in places they shouldn’t. And it’s definitely not fair that five years later, I still can’t get him out of my head.
So it looks like I’ve got two races on my hands: the one for election, and the one against the burning heat threatening to tear us both apart. But on the sprint to the finish line, what happens when the man who has everything comes up against the one thing he can’t have?
**This is a standalone, HEA novel**
Available at Amazon
Excerpt:
My heart is
pounding as I slam the door shut to my room. I’m pacing the floor, the blood
roaring in my ears and hot across my face as I bring one of my fingers to my
lips and chew at the cuticle; a habit I’ve been trying to kick since I was a
kid. Shit; I just walked in on Hudson totally naked with those absolutely
insane abs, those grooved muscles of his hips and that holy-fucking-shit HUGE
cock. I can feel the blush bloom hotter through my face as I think of that
particular part of him again; the part that had me staring and frozen like I
was under a spell of some kind. It’s the part of him that has me wetter than
I’ve ever been as the mental image of it sears itself into my brain.
I’m used to
living alone, but I can’t believe I just barged in through a closed bathroom
door. And I stayed! Why on earth hadn’t I just turned on my heal and bolted as
soon s I’d seen him, instead of staring at him and his- his cock like I was
some sort of sex-starved, tongue-tied weirdo! And what was I thinking letting
him get that close to me, so close that I actually felt him against my thigh like
that.
‘Say the word,
Reagan’
My breath comes
shaking as the desire floods through me, and I stop pacing to lean my forehead
against the door. I have no idea where I possibly found the ability to say no,
and as I feel my pulse throbbing in my ears and between my legs, I almost wish
I could go back in time and try a different answer.
“Reagan.”
The knock at my
door makes me jump, makes my heart leap into my throat; “Go away, Hudson.” I
croak out. It takes every ounce of my control to keep my voice level and not
betray the quaver I’m trying so hard to contain; “And learn to lock the damn
door!”
I can hear him
growl in the hallway; “Will you just open this one and we can ta-“
“There’s nothing
to talk about.” My eyes are clenched tightly, my fingers digging into my palms
as I chew at my lip, not sure if I want to will him to walk away or break the
door down and take me right here and now. I can hear him swear under his breath
on the other side of the door and then I jump at the sound of a palm slamming
flat against the doorframe.
“Damnit, Reagan,
open-“
“There’s nothing
to talk about, Hudson.” I saw quietly; “Just lock the door next time.”
Please don’t ask
me to open this door again or I know I will, I think, chewing at my lip with my
eyes closed tight. I’m so close to the edge that I know if he asks me again
there’s no way I’ll be able to say no. I clench my eyes closed even tighter,
feeling my body shiver with desire and feeling the heat pulsing between my
legs. Please, ask me-
The door to the
guest room slamming shut down the hallway makes me jump, and I let my breath
out suddenly, realizing I’ve been holding it. I count to three, and then ten,
and then fifty before I open my door. I poke my head out to see that the
hallways is clear, before I slip out and pad barefoot to the bathroom.
It’s still
steamy in here from him, though I guess he never got a chance to take a shower
before I barged in. There’s a bottle of aftershave lying on the sink next to a
razor, and before I can stop myself, I’m holding the bottle to my nose and
smelling his scent; letting it fill my senses as the steam of the room swirls
around me. His aftershave hasn’t changed, and the smell instantly has me back
there, back where we came so close. His hands are on me again, pushing me
against the stone behind us as he kisses me; his hardness pressing hotly
against my thigh through his pants.
I blush crimson,
knowing that as of seven minutes ago, I know exactly what that hardness looks
like.
I shake my head
to clear it as I reach to turn on the water, trying to shake him out of my
thoughts. The aftershave hasn’t changed, and as much as I want to think the man
who wears it has with this whole new sober, healthy, helpful and positive
Hudson, I know it’s just a new facade. People don’t change, not like that.
But when I step
under the hot spray of the water, he’s still in my head; all of him. And as
much as I want him gone from my thoughts, as the water teases electrically over
my skin, the vivid image of his rock-hard body and his big cock standing a foot
away from where I stand now invade every corner of my brain. I’m wet; far
wetter than I’d be just from standing under a shower head, and before I can
stop it, I’m pushing my hands down over my hips and over my stomach, and
sliding them lower. My fingers roll over my aching clit, making me gasp quietly
as I lean my forehead against the tile wall. A moan as soft as the steam rising
around me escapes my lips as I rub myself there, picturing Hudson standing hot
and ripped and naked right in front of me, so close that I can feel the heat
from his body, and then closer still as I feel the throbbing heat of his
erection press against my thigh. I picture myself letting him go further then,
instead of pushing him away like I did. His mouth is on mine, sliding down to
suck one of my nipples into his mouth before he slides lower still until he’s
sliding his tongue deep into my wetness as I buck against his mouth. I moan
again, louder this time as I slide a finger over my entrance and push it
inside. I’m squeezing my eyes shut tight, already feeling myself start to
tumble as I rock my hips to grind my clit against the palm of my hand as I picture
Hudson wrapping my legs around his muscled waist and sliding that big, hard-
The bathroom
door slams open; “Is my toothbrush-“
“Hudson!” But
its not a cry of anger or shock, or even surprise; its me crying out his name
as I come. And gasping out his name as my body begins to shatter pushes me
tumbling over that sweet edge as my climax explodes through me.
“I- uh-“ His
voice is choked, and as I look up through the semi-frosted clear shower
curtain, I see him staring at me as he backs out of the room; “Sorry.”
The door shuts,
and I slump against the wall, feeling like I want to turn to liquid and let the
water pelting down on top of me carry me right down the drain along with it.
It’s a frosted
shower curtain, so- no, there’s no way-
The water and the
steam swirl around me as I slide to my knees in the tub and curl my legs up to
my chin as I rock myself. He couldn’t have; God he couldn't have.
About the Author:
Aubrey Irons enjoys writing about bold, sassy, and intelligent women and the hot, cocky, and quite typically forbidden alpha males who love and lust for them; gripping stories, happy endings, and enough heat to keep things extra steamy!
In the real world, Aubrey is kept plenty entertained by her own tattooed Marine husband, their precocious and adorable three year old, and one very ill-behaved puppy.
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