REDEEMED by Indigo Sin

REDEEMED by Indigo Sin

 The Passion Series Book Three

Heartbreak drives Hadley to move on and forget the man who destroyed her hopes of love, no matter how much it hurts.

Colton will do anything to gain her forgiveness, if only he can convince her to believe his side.

With their future teetering perilously on the edge of disaster, can they redeem what they had before it’s too late?


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 Redhead purred as her hand wandered again, but this time he caught her wrist, shaking his head. “Not interested, Doll. Go find someone else to molest,” he drawled, hoping it was the last time he’d have to tell her.

That earned him a shitty look and an un-ladylike snort, but she slid from the stool, and stomped away. Thank God for small miracles.

As he swirled the liquid in the glass, ice clinking against the sides, the door opened to admit a new patron, but he was beyond caring. The more he drank, the better he felt, and after a while he had forgotten what he was there to forget anyway, so his plan was working out swimmingly. Knocking back the rest of his drink, Brad, the bartender, gave him that look that said he’d had enough. Fuck that.

“Need a refill, Brad,” Colton demanded, belching as he pushed the glass toward the man.

Brad sighed, but put the bottle to the glass anyway. “Last one, Colt, and then I’m calling you a ride.”
Colton gave him an un-amused look, waving his hand through the air. “What the fuck ever, MOM.”

Brad narrowed his eyes as he finished pouring and set the bottle back on the bar, before crossing his arms like he had something to say. Oh great, here it comes…the speech. He had known Brad since they were boys. They grew up on the same street, chased the same girls, and raised more than a little hell together. The look on Brad’s face said that he knew exactly what the issue was, but Colton was in no mood to discuss it.

Colton put his hand out as Brad opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t go there, Brad. I don’t want to discuss it.” His speech slurred the slightest bit at the end and he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it. Fuck, discuss was hard to say after half a bottle of Jack, that was for sure. Brad flipped him the bird as he made his way back across the bar to do…whatever shit it was that bartenders did, and Colton’s head found its way back into his hands.

Colton swung his gaze over the room once more, trying to stay on his stool when the room spun slightly. Mister loner in the corner had a woman with him now. They looked to be having a good conversation. Whatever, good luck, buddy. Rubbing at his eyes with both hands, he stopped dead still when a soft feminine laugh drifted across the bar. He knew that laugh. Turning his head as lines creased his brow, he blinked his eyes to focus on the couple in the back of the bar with a lot more interest.

“Ugh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. It was Hadley sitting there with the douche in the fancy duds. Of all the places she could have ended up tonight, it had to be here. Shaking his head, he clenched his jaw as her laugh pierced the quiet once more, and for the first time since arriving he found himself wishing the juke box was playing something to drown it out.

He was pissed. He didn’t realize he was holding his glass in a white knuckle grip until Brad broke his concentration.

“Dude, ease up. I’m not in the mood to clean up blood.”

Colton’s eyes snapped to Brad, and then followed his gaze to his hand. Shit.

Colton conjured up every ounce of self-control he had to let go of the glass, and not shatter it against the nearest wall. Fuck he was a mess. Turning his head once again, he watched as the man leaned in, listening intently to Hadley’s every word. She was laughing at whatever he was saying, and it killed him that he wasn’t the one she was laughing with. That was his Hadley over there.

Well shit, that had sobered him up real quick. Doing his best not to stare, he seethed in his own self-loathing, watching as the man made his girl smile. Pushing his glass back toward the bartender, he shook he head when Brad gave the ‘no fucking way’ look. “I’m done, man.”

Brad gave him a speculative glance, but took the glass with a nod. “Good call.”

Risking another glance back, he watched as Hadley got up from the table to make her way toward the back hallway leading to the restrooms. He knew it well. He and Hadley had made use of the dark hallway more than once when visiting this particular establishment. He groaned as his cock hardened in response to the memories and had to shift on his stool to relieve the pressure before he had a permanent zipper brand on his dick.

When he had discreetly adjusted his junk well enough to be reasonably comfortable, he turned back to find the table that Hadley had been sharing with Mr. Wonderful…empty. That didn’t bode well.

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MORE LIES by J.M. Snyder

MORE LIES by J.M. Snyder

In Beautiful Liar, former childhood television star Johnny Thomas wants to get back into show business. He hires his old manager, Lou, who has heard rumors of Johnny's sexuality. Though he's advised to play it straight, Johnny falls for Brett, a photographer whose candid shots of the lovers almost sinks Johnny's career before it can get off the ground.

More Lies takes place several months after Johnny's landed a coveted role in the upcoming Roxy Greene summer blockbuster. Lou tells him Roxy wants the media to think she and Johnny are a hot item off the set to build buzz for the movie. Now that he's dating Brett, Johnny doesn't feel comfortable lying about his love life, but surprisingly his boyfriend thinks it's a great idea.

But when Johnny and Roxy meet for the first time, it's evident neither of them are keen on the charade.

If Roxy's attitude is any indication, she can't stand Johnny. What happens when she finds out he's lying about his sexuality to keep his role in her film?BUY THE eBOOK *** READ THE EXCERPT

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.



Lunch is a disaster. Despite the cameras and the fans clamoring for attention mere yards away, Johnny feels invisible. Lou and Becky talk shop, leaving him to entertain Roxy, but she’s more interested in her iPhone than anything he might have to say. The few questions he asks go unanswered -- she’s either playing a game on the phone or texting someone, and it takes all her attention. Even though she sits beside him, she’s a million miles away. She even props her head on her hand, letting her hair fall like a veil to obscure her face from him.

He doesn’t know her and already he hates her.

He could really use that rum and Coke now, but when he tries to signal the waiter, Lou intervenes. “Just soda,” the manager says, staring Johnny down. “Who’s picking up the tab?”

Johnny glares at the salad sitting in front of him, a starter course he isn’t interested in eating.

As if feeling the tension at the table for the first time, Becky glances over at her daughter and clears her throat. Roxy ignores her, and Johnny feels a foot brush his under the table, then Roxy jolts as if kicked. She brushes the hair from her face long enough to frown at her mother. Because he’s watching, Johnny sees Becky mouth the words, “Put that away.”

Who’s idea was this lunch again? Because Johnny doesn’t think anyone at their table is enjoying it.

With a huff, Roxy pockets the iPhone and picks at her salad. She tucks her hair behind her ear and glances at him, still scowling. “Who are you again?”

Her mother hisses, “Roxy.”

“Johnny,” he says, glad to be spoken to at last. “Johnny Thomas. I’m in your movie.”

Roxy stabs at her salad with her fork and grunts. “Oh yeah, right.”

Uneasy silence settles over them again. Johnny watches her eat for a moment before deciding to give his own salad a try. Searching for something to say, anything that might get her talking, he asks, “Who were you texting?”

Her answer is short and clipped, hostile. “Mel.”

He almost chokes on his salad. “Boyfriend?” If so, why is he here again?

The look she gives him could curdle cheese. “Don’t you even watch my show?”

There it is -- the million dollar question. Brett had tried to prep Johnny for the luncheon by bringing him up to date on Roxy’s stardom, but Johnny only half listened at the time. He hadn’t honestly thought she’d ask him anything about her television series. Who was that egotistical?

He could lie. Shrug and say, “Sure,” and hope she doesn’t start asking random trivia questions for him to answer. Or he could be honest with her and face the consequences. Yeah, he thinks, swallowing the lettuce he’s chewed into pulp, because everything about this meeting is honest. Bullshit.

Still, the truth has to start somewhere. Reaching for his soda, he admits, “I’ve never actually seen it.”

Her eyes widen until the whites perfectly frame her irises. It’s a spooky look, dark eyes rimmed with white outlined with black kohl. It gives her a frightened appearance. “What?”

“Your show.” He gulps his drink -- too late to turn back now. “I’ve never watched it. To be honest, I didn’t even know who you were before I auditioned for the movie.”

He tenses his shoulders, waiting for the diva-esque backlash he’s sure will come.

To his surprise, she laughs.

He winces and sort of smiles as he turns toward her, not really sure what she expects. Her face is lit with an open, easy expression he can almost like. Leaning closer, she lowers her voice and admits, “It’s okay. I’ve never really watched it, either.”

With a grin, Johnny thinks, Now we’re getting somewhere. “So who’s Mel? Love interest?”

“Best friend,” Roxy corrects. “Female, I might add. So no.”

Her gaze shifts past him to her mother before dropping to what remains of her salad, and something in that worried glance makes Johnny think he’s not the only one playing a part in someone else’s script.

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SECOND BEST FANTASY by Angela Kelly

SECOND BEST FANTASY by Angela Kelly

Everyone dreams of being a rock star. Dating one is the second best fantasy.

Maggie O'Leary is a lonely lesbian dazzled by the talent and charisma of up-and-coming bisexual rock star, Janine Jordan. A romance with Janine could spell trouble, but Maggie can't help falling in love.


Set in New York City during the nineties, Second Best Fantasy follows Maggie and Janine as they embark on an exciting and surprising journey together, which carries them through the music scene toward stardom, creative artistry, career satisfaction, and finally, battles with their own personal demons.


With support and encouragement from families and friends, their life seems to be headed down the right path. But Maggie and Janine learn love is seldom simple or easy, particularly when both women are also involved in committed relationships with their own addictions. Theirs is a tumultuous love affair from the start. Can they survive the curves and upheaval along the way?


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EXCERPT:Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.



When Janine left for LA two days later, I became solid steel. We said goodbye at my apartment like old friends, and I as-sumed the several times she made mention of when we would see each other again was just her way of being polite.

“Too Much Trouble” had been steadily climbing its way up the Billboard charts, she would be in greater and greater de-mand with each passing day. I was grateful I’d had my three days, it was a nice story I’d get to tell my friends. Beyond that, I convinced myself I expected nothing, regardless of how I felt, or imagined she might feel. Those few days and nights had been magical, but the real world was waiting just outside the door.

Who was I kidding, that day at beach, imagining the rela-tionship would continue beyond our 3-day weekend? It was easier, simpler, and much less painful to pretend it never hap-pened. I set about a rigorous course of action to forget her that included overtime at work and more alcohol consumption and one night stands than usual. Trying to forget someone I had feelings for wasn’t new territory for me, I had a lot of practice over the years. But Janine was very hard to shake. I stopped listening to the radio, her song was everywhere. I was in Pan-dora’s Box in the village and it was on the damn jukebox. One day at work Jan strolled in wearing a Joan Orlean shirt she’d purchased the night of the party. I felt the universe was fucking with me, and I didn’t like it one bit.

About ten days after we’d said goodbye, I came home from work and a stuffed manila envelope fell to the floor as I was sifting through my mail. The return address was somewhere in LA. I sunk to the floor and started to cry, Janine had not for-gotten me after all. Smiling through my tears, laughing at my silly attempts to deny what I felt, I tore open the package. The first thing to fall out was a CD single of “Too Much Trouble” with Janine’s script in black magic marker sprawling across the cover that read, “To my Jersey girl.” If that had been all the package contained, I would have been overjoyed, but there was more. A photograph from a shoot for the next album cover showed Janine half smiling at the camera with the boys in the band surrounding her on all sides. A sheaf of cocktail napkins with random lines and paragraphs of poetry, and a note on the last napkin that said, “You’re helping me finish this when I get home.” And, finally, a brief letter:

Darling Maggie,

I am sure the moment I walked out the door you thought you would never hear from me. My dear girl, so scarred from past betrayals, I under-stand your fears. It seems so unfair that the moment I found you, this cor-porate world of music wants to swallow me whole. I never really wanted to be a rock star.

I think about you every moment alone I can steal. There is something deep within me that wants to tell you all my secrets. I’m sorry I haven’t called, it is hard for me to get away on my own for any length of time. I just keep thinking of how much sweeter it will be the next time I get to see you. I wish I could see your face when you opened the package. You probably had that little grin that starts at one corner of your mouth and spreads across your face like an artist’s hand.

Soon, Janine

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