What happens when the
kink between the pages leads to heat between the sheets?
All Blake Crawford wants is to pass his creative writing
course, get his university degree and take over his dad’s ailing family
business. What Amanda Newland wants is to graduate at the top of her class, as
well as finally finish her novel and prove to her family that writing is a
respectful career.
What Blake and Amanda don’t want is to be paired up with
each other for their final project but that’s exactly what they both get when
they’re forced to collaborate on a writing piece. Since Amanda thinks Blake is
a pushy asshole (with a panty-melting smirk and British accent) and Blake
thinks Amanda has a stick up her ass (though it’s brilliant ass), they fight
tooth and nail until they discover they write well together. They also might
find each other really attractive, but that’s neither here nor there.
When their writing project turns out to be a success, the
two of them decide to start up a secret partnership together using a pen name,
infiltrating the self-publishing market in the lucrative genre of erotica.
Naturally, with so much heat and passion between the pages, it’s not long
before their dirty words become a dirty reality. Sure, they still fight a lot
but at least there’s make-up sex now.
But even as they start to fall hard for each other, will
their burgeoning relationship survive if their scandalous secret is exposed or
are happily-ever-afters just a work of fiction?
About Karina
Halle:
Karina Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist
and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of
The Pact, Racing the Sun, Sins & Needles and over 25 other wild and
romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with
her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of
trails and devours a lot of books.
Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is
both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North
America and in the UK.
Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at
@MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com and
sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing
sales and more.
LINKS:
EXCERPT
She holds my gaze for a moment and something passes over
her. Regret, maybe. Then she nods. “Sit down. Let’s work.”
And so we do. And for the first time in a long time, it’s
strained. I’m about to suggest maybe we need the Estonian vodka anyway when she
lets out an exasperated sigh over something she’s reading.
It happens to be something I wrote.
“What?” I ask, wondering what I did wrong.
She gives me the are you kidding me? look. “Okay, I was
ignoring it earlier but I think you need to get a grip on some of this shit.
This simply does not happen.”
“Explain, please.”
“I just think it’s unrealistic for there to be so much talking,
let alone the fact that the first time they do it it’s in a public place.”
“Too much talking?”
“Yeah.” she scans over the document. “You know, give me your
cock, oh you feel so good, harder, harder, you’re so big, fuck me harder big
boy.”
“Have you even had good sex?” I ask incredulously.
She flinches. “Of course I have. And it’s none of your
business.”
“We’re writing about sex. It’s completely my business. I’m
not letting you interject your edits based on your personal experiences about
sex because believe me, if the sex is good, you’re moaning my name.”
She raises her chin. “Maybe all those girls were faking it.”
Oh, brilliant.
“Excuse me?” I say, hands pressed against the table, nearly
getting out of my chair. “You have no idea. I pride myself in giving a girl as
many bloody orgasms as she can handle.”
“Bloody orgasms don’t sound like fun,” she jokes softly.
“They can be if you’re into knife play,” I tell her, even
though that’s not exactly what I meant. Still, she scrunches up her nose.
“Don’t knock it until you try it, but that’s neither here nor there. When you
were with Alan, he must have made you come at least a few times.”
If he didn’t, I feel like finding the guy and showing him a
thing or two for wasting four years of her life.
“Yeah,” she says flatly.
“And in the middle of that orgasm, didn’t you want to yell a
few things?”
“Sometimes.”
“And why didn’t you?”
She looks at her nails as if they’re suddenly fascinating.
“It didn’t seem right. It was…too intimate. I would have felt dumb. He didn’t
like any of that stuff.”
The plot thickens. “Any of what stuff?”
“Sex that didn’t involve the missionary position or the
bed.”
My mouth drops open. My brain and penis can’t compute this.
“I feel so sorry for you.”
We must remedy this.
She glares at me. “It’s not like I didn’t want to do it. I
did. And he did try it. Most of it. But it always went back to the same old.”
I knew it. She’s a nerd on the streets and a freak in the
sheets.
“I don’t mean to brag,” I tell her in all seriousness. “But
you do realize that I could give you an orgasm in thirty seconds.”
Her eyes widen. I can’t tell if she’s horrified or
intrigued. “I don’t believe you and I don’t want you to try.”
She’s not getting it. I frown, trying to explain. “If you’re
having good sex and it’s with someone you’re comfortable with, you won’t worry
about holding back. You’ll cry out all the nonsense you want, you’ll make
noises like a pig and scream like you’re on fire because you truly can’t have a
good orgasm unless you’re letting go on all accounts.” I lean back in my chair
and study her, running my fingers along my jaw. “I would venture that every
time you came with your ex, you were only experiencing half of what you should
have been. How is it with your vibrators?”
I expect her to tell me to fuck off, that I’m getting too
personal but to my surprise she gives me a small smile. “It’s better. But I do
have a roommate with exceptionally good hearing.” She clears her throat.
“Anyway, so I guess I’m wrong. The heroine can make all the noise she wants.”
“And have first time sex in public.”
“I don’t know…”
“Believe me, when you finally get a chance to fuck, you
don’t care where it is. That’s why I always have a condom in my pocket. And the
more public the sex, the sneakier you have to be, the hotter it is.”
“But in the book you would never get caught.”
“You don’t always get caught in real life too.”
I can see she wants to ask me where I’ve done it but she
loses her nerve. “Okay.” She looks back to the document. “I accept defeat.”
But I don’t want her to. I want to prove to her I’m right
and not have her take my word.
Is there a non-creepy way to show her just how amazing good
sex can feel? I’m thinking not.
Or…maybe there is.
