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Green by S.M. West
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Here’s your FIRST LOOK at S.M. West’s GREEN! Join us as we get our first peek at this hot and sexy romantic suspense where hope and friendship grow into something more.
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Title: Green
Author: SM West
Release Date: 2/28/18
Publisher: Self-published
Series: A Love in Color Novel
Genres: Contemporary, Romantic Suspense
Word Count: 72,500
Synopsis:
Green. The color of hope.
ANNA MARI is living for today, not daring to hope for tomorrow. She’s a pawn in her grandfather’s game, and time is her enemy. Her freedom is the prize.
DAVIS COOPER is licking his wounds of betrayal when he’s assigned to babysit his boss’s sister. The pretty little thing who’s most definitely off-limits.
Though they struggle to set boundaries, the root of their friendship grows into something more. But none of that matters – Anna’s fate is sealed and neither hope nor love can save her.
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GREEN Excerpt
Copyright © 2018 S.M. West
It’s the sway of her hips and mass of dark curls that catch my eye. She’s dancing at the bar while sipping a drink and leaning into some guy who is all over her. His hands bracket her waist, slowly inching down the curve of her ass.
She’s mine to protect. I charge like a bull, hot and agitated, yanking her out of his arms. Her drink spills over the guy’s shirt.
“Hey!” he yells, flicking liquid off his hands.
Anna whips her head to me, eyes wide and mouth open. “What are you…”
I lean in close and whisper, my tone thick, heavy and derisive. “This sex kitten act isn’t working for you, little girl. Stop making a fool of yourself.” I’m a damned liar, but I don’t intend to give that any thought right now.
“Get lost.” Her angry gaze lights into me, and she pivots toward the guy who is ready to take me on.
I grab her arm, wrapping her in an embrace while she tries to wriggle free. “We’re leaving.”
“Get your hands off her, asshole,” drunk college boy slurs, wobbling toward me.
“No, I’m not.” Her eyes narrow into a glower. “Leave if you want to. Let me go.”
“You heard the lady, let her go." The guy looks at her with a stupid face that he probably thinks is endearing. Instead, he's a jackass with puckered lips and crossed-eyes. “Hey baby, you okay?”
He paws her clumsily, and my patience snaps. “You touch her again, and you’ll lose your arm.”
He falters for a second, glancing down at my arms firmly banded around her and then back at me.
“Hey, man.” He raises his hands as if he’s staring down the barrel of a gun. “No disrespect, I didn’t know she was yours.”
“I’m not,” she grinds out, jabbing her elbow in my side.
I flinch but keep my hold on her and she releases a frustrated groan. The guy doesn’t give either of us a second look. He’s gone.
“Let me go,” she hisses. Ignoring her, I text Tango and Tommie to meet us out back.
Within minutes, I’m thrusting her into Tango’s arms and ordering them to take her home.
“Do not leave,” I stress, and Tango nods obediently.
Anna is fuming. Livid. Her nostrils flare and lips are tight while her eyes blaze. If looks could kill, I might be sucking in dirt. But I’ve gotta admit, hot and bothered looks good on her.
While completely uncalled for, I wink and flash my sexy grin– the one that has women falling at my feet–before turning my back on her. As I walk into the club, she curses a blue streak, and I laugh. My cock twitches, turned on by her spunk. Down boy, this is Anna. Off-limits no matter how tempting.
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About S.M. West:
S.M. West writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotica and whatever her heart desires. She spends most of her time juggling a day job, being a mom, wife, and writing. She's a self-professed junkie of many things, including a voracious fan of music, a born wanderer, a wine aficionado and chocolate connoisseur.
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Clutch by S.M. West
Title: Clutch
Author: S.M. West
Release Date: November 3, 2017
Blurb
Clutch –
verb: to grasp and hold tightly; to seize; snatch.
verb: to grasp and hold tightly; to seize; snatch.
Flighty. Stupid.
That’s what my sisters think of me.
That’s what my sisters think of me.
I’m tired of being
misunderstood.
misunderstood.
With a suitcase in
hand and the ocean as my beacon, I’m charting my own path.
hand and the ocean as my beacon, I’m charting my own path.
Yet, barely a day on
the road, I almost crash and burn.
the road, I almost crash and burn.
Running into Silas
Palmer, a sexy-as-sin rock star, changes my life.
Palmer, a sexy-as-sin rock star, changes my life.
Silas makes me feel …
Exceptional. Aimless.
Exceptional. Aimless.
He’s always known his
course.
course.
And even now, when
he’s abandoning fame and fortune, he knows what he wants.
he’s abandoning fame and fortune, he knows what he wants.
Me.
But life is never
that simple.
that simple.
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Unlimited after release day.
Unlimited after release day.
Excerpt
Since
Pansy’s come into my life, I’m brimming with song ideas, scraps of
paper everywhere. So much so, half of me is eager to get in that studio and
write, but the other half is reluctant to lose the limited time I have with
Pansy, getting to know her.
Pansy’s come into my life, I’m brimming with song ideas, scraps of
paper everywhere. So much so, half of me is eager to get in that studio and
write, but the other half is reluctant to lose the limited time I have with
Pansy, getting to know her.
“I love
that. Is it new?” Pansy surveys me from the doorway in a faded black one-piece
swimsuit that’s seen better days. All I see is her toned bronze skin, calling
to me.
that. Is it new?” Pansy surveys me from the doorway in a faded black one-piece
swimsuit that’s seen better days. All I see is her toned bronze skin, calling
to me.
Crooking my
finger, I beckon her, and she obeys. With each step to me, streams of sunlight
flit across the crown of her head, deepening the warm, red tones of her long
locks.
finger, I beckon her, and she obeys. With each step to me, streams of sunlight
flit across the crown of her head, deepening the warm, red tones of her long
locks.
I pull her
onto my lap, and her delicious bow-shaped lips curl up as her eyes widen,
darkening to moss green. Her warm, almost bare back leans against my chest, and
I swear our heartbeats are synchronized.
onto my lap, and her delicious bow-shaped lips curl up as her eyes widen,
darkening to moss green. Her warm, almost bare back leans against my chest, and
I swear our heartbeats are synchronized.
“Silas.” My
name is almost a tremble on her lips.
name is almost a tremble on her lips.
“Hey,” I
whisper, and she smiles.
whisper, and she smiles.
I place her
hands on the keyboard, my larger ones shadowing hers, and we play a few bars of
the song I just wrote. The one she just overheard. It’s about her.
hands on the keyboard, my larger ones shadowing hers, and we play a few bars of
the song I just wrote. The one she just overheard. It’s about her.
“Hypnotizing.”
She sways with the beat.
She sways with the beat.
“Very
hypnotizing.” She sure is.
hypnotizing.” She sure is.
Lightly
kissing her shoulder, my tongue licks at her salty skin, and she shudders and
sighs, sinking into me. With her surrender, my hands have a mind of their own,
gripping her waist and lifting her to sit on the piano with her legs bent, her
bare feet grazing the keys.
kissing her shoulder, my tongue licks at her salty skin, and she shudders and
sighs, sinking into me. With her surrender, my hands have a mind of their own,
gripping her waist and lifting her to sit on the piano with her legs bent, her
bare feet grazing the keys.
“Silas,”
she exhales, her hands latching onto my shoulders.
she exhales, her hands latching onto my shoulders.
Seated at
eye level with her sex, I glance at her, seeking permission. The tiny nod and
nibble on her bottom lip is all the go-ahead I need. My fingers gently knead
her thighs before pulling her legs wide apart.
eye level with her sex, I glance at her, seeking permission. The tiny nod and
nibble on her bottom lip is all the go-ahead I need. My fingers gently knead
her thighs before pulling her legs wide apart.
She gasps
as my hands glide up the inside of her legs. Eager to taste and touch, my
tongue kisses, nips, and licks at the soft, silky skin of her thighs, the sea
salt mingling with a flavor that is undeniably Pansy. She tastes like fucking
freedom.
as my hands glide up the inside of her legs. Eager to taste and touch, my
tongue kisses, nips, and licks at the soft, silky skin of her thighs, the sea
salt mingling with a flavor that is undeniably Pansy. She tastes like fucking
freedom.
I continue
to rub my palms along her thighs, to the juncture of her legs and pelvis. I’m
overwhelmed with desire, burning inside as my thumb slowly swipes her mound
through the already-damp bathing suit. I’m not sure if it’s wet from the ocean
or her excitement.
She
releases a breathy moan, dropping her head forward, her hair falling around us
like curtains. Licking my lips, I plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss at the apex of
her thighs and groan at her musky, intoxicating scent. She sucks in a jagged
breath and curls her fingers and toes.
to rub my palms along her thighs, to the juncture of her legs and pelvis. I’m
overwhelmed with desire, burning inside as my thumb slowly swipes her mound
through the already-damp bathing suit. I’m not sure if it’s wet from the ocean
or her excitement.
She
releases a breathy moan, dropping her head forward, her hair falling around us
like curtains. Licking my lips, I plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss at the apex of
her thighs and groan at her musky, intoxicating scent. She sucks in a jagged
breath and curls her fingers and toes.
S.M. West is an
indie author who writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotica and
whatever her heart desires.
indie author who writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotica and
whatever her heart desires.
She spends her time
juggling ay day job, being a mom and wife, and writing. On top of that, she's a
self-professed junkie of many things including a voracious fan of music, a
born wanderer, a wine aficionado and chocolate connoisseur.
juggling ay day job, being a mom and wife, and writing. On top of that, she's a
self-professed junkie of many things including a voracious fan of music, a
born wanderer, a wine aficionado and chocolate connoisseur.
Author Links
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Blue by S.M. West
Title: Blue
Author: S.M. West
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 12, 2017
Blurb
Blue. The color of
devotion.
CARYS WOLFE is my
heart.
Mine, always.
Leaving her nearly killed me.
I thought it was the
only way to keep her safe.
She’s moved on, and I
want her back.
***
EVAN HART is my
heart.
Loving him is my
destiny. I waited my entire life for our time,
for us to finally be
together, only to have him leave.
Now he’s back.
Though my mind can’t
forgive him, my heart can’t forget.
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Excerpt
“Evan, I want to know what happened, but I have a life now and you need to know…” She trails off, her eyes darting away from mine.
“What?”
Gazing up at me, she continues, “Whatever you have to say, it’s not going to change a thing. We’re over.”
My heart twists and breathing becomes difficult. Mother fuck, her words cut deep, hurting even though they aren’t true. Sure, she believes them on some level—she had to, in order to get through what I did. Yet, along with the hurt and disappointment swimming in her eyes, there’s also tenderness and love.
“Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk away.”
We always pushed each other, challenged the other to face our fears, to be honest with ourselves, with each other. I need to hear her say it. I don’t believe it, but if she is over me, I need to hear it in her voice and see it in her face—not because I want to, but because it’s the only way I can even begin to accept that we’re over. Even then, it’s not possible.
“I’m happy.” Her tone is laden with bravado, but no true emotion. Even her gaze, which never wavers from mine, is flat.
Shaking my head, I briefly cast my eyes downward to suppress my smile. “No, you’re not.”
“Van.” I flinch at that fucking name.
As a child, I thought it was so fucking cool to have a nickname that only my best friends would call me. Now, hearing “Van” from her pretty lips, I want to obliterate the word from her vocabulary, fucking kiss the word out of her.
“You can call me asshole for all I care, you’re not happy,” I retort in frustration. Catching my tone, I breathe deeply and loosen my fists to relax. “Don’t lie to me, and most of all, don’t lie to yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You want to see what you want. I’m with Greg, and we’re happy.”
She grimaces infinitesimally, then averts her eyes from me. Unable to read her, I’m not sure if it’s because she means it and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings or if the lie tastes nasty in her mouth.
“What?”
Gazing up at me, she continues, “Whatever you have to say, it’s not going to change a thing. We’re over.”
My heart twists and breathing becomes difficult. Mother fuck, her words cut deep, hurting even though they aren’t true. Sure, she believes them on some level—she had to, in order to get through what I did. Yet, along with the hurt and disappointment swimming in her eyes, there’s also tenderness and love.
“Tell me you’re happy and I’ll walk away.”
We always pushed each other, challenged the other to face our fears, to be honest with ourselves, with each other. I need to hear her say it. I don’t believe it, but if she is over me, I need to hear it in her voice and see it in her face—not because I want to, but because it’s the only way I can even begin to accept that we’re over. Even then, it’s not possible.
“I’m happy.” Her tone is laden with bravado, but no true emotion. Even her gaze, which never wavers from mine, is flat.
Shaking my head, I briefly cast my eyes downward to suppress my smile. “No, you’re not.”
“Van.” I flinch at that fucking name.
As a child, I thought it was so fucking cool to have a nickname that only my best friends would call me. Now, hearing “Van” from her pretty lips, I want to obliterate the word from her vocabulary, fucking kiss the word out of her.
“You can call me asshole for all I care, you’re not happy,” I retort in frustration. Catching my tone, I breathe deeply and loosen my fists to relax. “Don’t lie to me, and most of all, don’t lie to yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You want to see what you want. I’m with Greg, and we’re happy.”
She grimaces infinitesimally, then averts her eyes from me. Unable to read her, I’m not sure if it’s because she means it and doesn’t want to hurt my feelings or if the lie tastes nasty in her mouth.
“Sweetness, I know everything there is to know about you, without apology. You can’t lie to me.”
S.M. West is an
indie author who writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotica and
whatever her heart desires.
She spends her time
juggling ay day job, being a mom and wife, and writing. On top of that, she's a
self-professed junkie of many things including a voracious fan of music, a
born wanderer, a wine aficionado and chocolate connoisseur.
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