Open to read Episode 7 of Reckless Love!

Happy Tuesday!
Hello my dear readers! Next week's episode will arrive on Christmas day. I'm not sure if that's an awesome twist of fate or too much goodness for one day. I hope you've been enjoying your weekly episodes. I've certainly enjoyed writing them! 
2018 did not go as I expected in many ways, but it was still an awesome year. We added five titles to the Alexis Anne catalogue--4 into the Storm Inside world and 1 into the Tease world.

I'm really, really excited to keep expanding these in 2019. Here's what you're getting in today's newsletter:

  1. The Books of 2019
  2. Recommendations from my friends!
  3. Reckless Series
  4. Episode 7

 

I hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

xoxo

Alexis

1. The Books of 2019

There are no guarantees of anything in life, but here's what I'm working on for you guys:

  • The rest of the Calusa Key series: Go Away, Darling, Kiss Me, Darling, and Third Time's the Charm
  • King of Wands: I want to get lost in King and Isa's world for a while this year. I'm cooking up details and will let you know when I have specifics!
  • The Reckless Series: with the holidays behind us we'll resume a normal weekly schedule of episodes in the Reckless series with the completed and expanded book releasing at the end. After Reckless Love we'll dive into Reckless Nights, and after that...well I can't tell you yet or it'll spoil so much. SO MUCH!

Other books on my wish list:

  • Seth's book in the Wild Pitch world.
  • My Butterfly Rebellion series. I'm dying to finally get to this story and hope this year is the year!
  • A super secret non-romance project with Tamsen Parker. I'm hoping I can at least tell you about it sometime this year!

2. Recommendations From My Friends!

I would totally make you guys gift guides and reading lists if I thought about it ahead of time, luckily my friends were all on top of it this year! (And I'm working on something reeeeaaaaalllly exciting for next year so stay tuned for that!)

  • Lindsay Emory's 2018 Gift Guide
  • Julia Kelly is posting a holiday book a dayCheck them out!
  • Lindsay Emory also posted a Winter Survival Kit and let me tell you, that snail mucus for your face actually works! I've been using it for a few days and every morning I wake up shocked by how nice my skin feels. (Warning: she recommends listening to Celine Dion under a full moon for best effects which I totally didn't do.)

3. The Reckless Series

The holiday schedule made my head hurt so the final Reckless Love ebook and paperback are now available, but the free episodes will still publish here each week, followed by the next book in the series, Reckless Nights, where we'll return to a regular posting schedule. The free episodes will release every Tuesday, and a final, edited, expanded book publishing at the end. 

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Jn8D3S

Apple Books: http://bit.ly/RecklessKiss

Kobo: http://bit.ly/KissKobo

Play: http://bit.ly/RecklessKissPlay

Nook: http://bit.ly/KissOnNook

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2OeBGYa

Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2EThPyt

Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2COWxzh

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2SAjWKk

Apple Books: http://bit.ly/RecklessLoveApple

Kobo: http://bit.ly/LoveKobo

Nook: http://bit.ly/LoveOnNook

Play: http://bit.ly/RecklessLovePlay

Amazon Universal: mybook.to/RecklessLoveAmazon

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/LoveBookbub

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/LoveGoodreads

4. Episode 7 of Reckless Love

Reckless Love is the second part of The Reckless Duet, a newsletter serial. Both Reckless Kiss and Reckless Love are available for purchase.

Get Reckless Kiss

Read Reckless Love:

Episode 1 | Episode 2 | Episode 3 | Episode 4 | Episode 5 | Episode 6

 

NSFW-ish

“If I’d realized you were going to come to lunch right away I would have told you to wait until tomorrow.” I guided William to my favorite booth by the windows in the research cafeteria after he surprised me by appearing in my Monday morning lecture.

“Why? What’s on Tuesday?” He jumped out of the way of a student running between tables—probably late for class.

“Food truck. I eat pork tacos on Tuesday outside on the lawn.”

“No food truck on Monday?”

“Nope. Just Tuesday and Thursday. Sometimes Friday.” I slid into the booth and frowned at my chicken salad. Pork tacos were way better. “Oh, and sometimes on Wednesday, but never on Monday. I think the owners take Monday off.” William dwarfed his side of the booth. “Maybe we should have grabbed a table instead?” That way he would have more room.

“This is fine.” He patted my hand. “Trust me, I’m used to squeezing in places.”

I swear his words had a double meaning. Like he was used to squeezing physically into places and metaphorically into the box designed by our father. “Well there’s a table over there if you change your mind. I just like how the light filters in here at this time of day.”

He picked up his Italian sub and examined it before taking a bite. “I’m starved. It’s been a wild goose chase to find you. I went to your lab and they sent me to your office. Then the secretary directed me to your class. How many places do work exactly?”

“Matilda isn’t a secretary. She’s the office manager.” Every department had one captain that kept the ship of absentminded professors afloat and she was ours. “And you’ve now covered most of my sales territory. You know you could have just called and arranged lunch. That would have saved you at least a mile of walking.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He shrugged, studied his sandwich before deciding on tackling a new angle. “Seeing you this weekend . . . I decided I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

“Wait?” For what? 

He shrugged again. “I keep thinking there’s going to be a right time. A safe time.”

“For us,” I waved between us, “to have a relationship without consequences.” I wondered if Edmund really cared if we spent time together. Or maybe this separation was part of his control. Who knew? I certainly didn’t. I just hoped it didn’t hurt William. “Why do you work for him anyway?”

William glanced past me at the room—a move I knew all too well because I’d done it to Leo more times than I could count. Who was watching? Listening? How carefully should we choose our words?

I was so fucking sick of it all. 

“There are advantages,” he finally said. 

“Financial ones?”

He grimaced, shook his head, sighed. All signs of resignation. “Yes, there are financial advantages to my position. And yes, I do like being wealthy but I have news for you Rosie, I’m fucking good at my job. I don’t need him or nepotism to be where I am now.”

“I know that,” I whispered because I felt bad. I had a big old blind spot when it came to Edmund and unfortunately in this particular instance that meant being incapable of seeing how brilliant my big brother was. Of course he was. He was smart enough to bust out of our house of joy early. And on top of that, he sped through college, only slowing down to normal human speed when he was in grad school. I heard Wharton did that more often than not. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just as bad. That’s part of why I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to see you in action. Your lab is freaking cool by the way.”

“Thanks. Did you look around?”

“A little. When I said I was your brother they didn’t come at me with the pitchforks they were holding.”

“The lab is secure.” The data we stored was sensitive and our equipment was expensive. It wasn’t Fort Knox or anything, but you had to badge in once you passed the main offices. And Jolene and Kenneth—my usual graduate assistants at the lab—didn’t like strangers.

“I know that I don’t know you, Rosie.” He took my hand again and it struck me as incredibly odd. Had we ever held hands—even as kids? Affection wasn’t a thing in our house. “And I understand that you don’t know me. I work for Edmund because it’s our family company and because it puts me in a position to understand exactly what our family assets are or are not.”

I didn’t fully understand what that meant. “Our assets?”

“You and I are his only heirs. What happens to the company when he dies? The teams he owns? We both know he’s done things . . . how much of that will blowback on us?”

“Things?” I played dumb. 

He dropped his voice and leaned closer. “The offshore accounts, the mysterious deals, the houses owned by shell corporations. If there’s a backdoor way of doing things he’s done it.” His eyes narrowed on me. “And then there’s Nashville.”

I snatched my hand away. “And what about now? Why is he here?”

William leaned back. “You know how obsessed he is. Football is everything. He wouldn’t have cared if they offered him a franchise in the Arctic Circle. A franchise is a franchise. It just so happened to be here.”

Something about the waver in his voice made me doubt that was entirely true. I didn’t have a chance to find out why because I was interrupted by a stream of colleagues who wanted to meet the man across from me. 

“And who is this delicious example of masculinity?” Mary, from Jeffry’s department purred as she forced her way into the booth beside me. 

“Ew,” I gagged. I liked to think of William finding love in the abstract. This was way too close. “Mary this is my brother William. William this is Mary. She’s a geneticist in one of the other labs here at the research park.”

“I like your style.” William smiled warmly.

Mary was dressed as she usually was—as if she’d stepped right out of a Japanese movie or video game. “And I like your size. Rawr.”

I gagged again. “Okay Mary. You’re officially leaving now. Say goodbye.”

She winked at William and then sauntered off.

“I think I need to come have lunch with you more often,” he chuckled, the bastard.

“And I think I’m banning you from campus.” Then I glanced around. “I’ve really enjoyed seeing you today but . . . ” 

“But?” 

How did I explain to my brother that I wanted to get to know him anywhere but here? “No one knows who I am.”

The smile disappeared from his face. “You didn’t change your last name.”

“No . . . but Brown isn’t exactly unusual. I don’t want this,” I flicked my hand at the room, “to be tainted.”

He nodded, looked away. “I understand. Won’t keep me away though.” He glanced back at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes that I wasn’t so sure I liked at all. “Next time I’ll change. Maybe I’ll even wear a ball cap and glasses. You know, real incognito like.”

“William . . . ”

“Esme . . .”

Whoa. I blinked. And blinked again.

William, clearly pleased that he’d shocked me, grinned. “I want to know you. I want to know Esme. So unless you tell me you don’t want me here I’m going to come in my street clothes and hat and take you to lunch on the lawn and meet all your well dressed friends.” He waggled his brows.

And I really couldn’t say no to any of that. “Fine. But only in disguise. And maybe not in the cafeteria again.” I glanced at the packed space and the curious looks we were getting.

“Deal.” We even shook on it. 

* * *


I imagine taking my first breath felt a lot like the moment I learned to cook. It was necessary, exhilarating, and filled me with life. As you can imagine, there weren’t any warm and fuzzy memories of cooking in the kitchen from my childhood. Food simply appeared on the table. I was aware that we had a kitchen and that people did something that created the meals we enjoyed, but beyond that cooking was a mystery to me.

Until college. My second year roommate loved food and dragged me with her to a cooking class they were doing on campus. 

I. Was. Fascinated.

If memory serves, I stood staring at Alina more than I did anything else that night. She created flavors out of ingredients. Miraculous! Different combinations created completely different results. Heat and temperature mattered. Sometimes she measured precisely, while other times she squinted, bit her lip, and winged it. I learned quickly that cooking was a combination of science and magic. 

I was hooked.

The science part I caught onto quickly. The chemistry and mathematics in particular made a great deal of sense, but I was jealous of Alina’s ability to seemingly just know what would take a dish from good to great. After several months of burning, undercooking, breaking two dishes, and mistaking salt for sugar, intuition struck. Instinct. I made my first gut call adjustment to a recipe and bam. I’d created my first truly delicious meal.

It was pancakes, but still. They weren’t ordinary pancakes. They were my pancakes. I learned this magical cooking intuition wasn’t just raw talent. It was experience. That niggling need to add or subtract something came from thousands of data points all working silently in the back of my mind, computing results and telling my consciousness which action would most likely lead to the desired result. Like Dr. Strange checking all the possible outcomes and coming back to the present timeline with a plan on how to beat Thanos. 

The other cool lesson I learned from cooking was to trust my senses. Ingredients were never the same. That’s why it was important to observe the combining and mixing, heating and cooling of food as it’s prepared, to taste and adjust based on these ingredients on this day. 

And hooboy did I need to take that lesson into the rest of my life and live in the moment. It was one of the reasons I’d rushed out of work a little earlier than normal and hit my favorite market on the way home. I felt an overwhelming urge to create a delectable feast and to spend a quiet evening with Leo.

“Dear God what is that heavenly smell?” The front door opened and closed.

I heard the clank of Leo’s keys hitting the bowl and then he was in the doorway, grinning in his grey suit with the white shirt and red tie. His hair was still perfectly styled and there was only the beginning hints of a five o’clock shadow on his handsome jaw. 

In short, he looked every bit as delicious as the food.

“It’s a lemon herb roast chicken.”

“Nope,” he shook his head, his eyes heating. “That’s not it.”

“Then maybe it’s the escargot I made as an appetizer?” The garlic was killing me. My mouth hadn’t stopped watering. 

He cocked his head to the side. “Okay, it’s definitely that too, but not what I meant.” He moved across the kitchen and around the counter to stand beside me, his hands landing on my hips as he nuzzled my neck. “There it is.” He pressed a kiss to my skin. “It’s you.”

I closed my eyes and savored that because whoa. On the romance scale of one to ten, that was a thermometer-busting one hundred. 

“What’s that?” He nodded toward the breakfast table covered in folders and notebooks. 

“That is a project that arrived today. I’ve been waiting for these files all week. One of my favorite Scottish sites has uncovered human remains and they believe it’s just the first of many.”

Leo moved around me, locating the white wine I was already drinking and pouring himself a glass before refreshing mine. “You sound . . . delighted.”

I was delighted. Over the moon. Giddy even. Projects like this were the whole reason I started my research. “Did you know I designed my lab solely so I could catch all the best projects?”

“Catch?” He moved back around the counter to the a stool and sat down. 

“Normally when an unexpected find comes up during a dig it’s a scramble to figure out what to do. Funding being the major factor here. In the case of human remains there’s proper storage, DNA analysis, preservation, things like that. It’s expensive and sometimes delays work for years. I hate delays and I love being involved in all my favorite research—it’s much better than watching from the sidelines, hoping for little nibbles of information to come out over the email loops or at conference presentations. So part of my goal in creating my lab was to make sure it had an entire funding arm for interceding. An archaeology team comes up with something unexpected, they call me. I consult and my lab catches the work, leaving the original team with the ability to keep working and come up with additional funds down the road. It’s a win for everyone but especially me.”

“You’re deviously smart. Will you be going out there?”

I nodded as I removed the escargot from the oven, setting it aside to cool a bit before we indulged. “Most likely. I’m going over the research now and we’re coming up with a plan. It will probably be a few weeks before they’re able to proceed. The weather is a major factor in their dig seasons up there.”

“And where is this exactly?” He tried to snatch one of the escargot and I batted his hand away.

“Northern Scotland. I might go as a tourist if they don’t need me. This is one of my favorite sites and I’ve been dying to get out there for years.” When I got the email from the site director asking for my help I literally jumped out of my seat and danced.

I removed the chicken and scalloped potatoes from the oven as well, turning everything off. We devoured the food right there on the counter instead of at the beautifully set table in the dining room. 

And, just as I’d hoped, eating led to dirty talk, and dirty talk led to foreplay. And then it led to something I wasn’t sure how to discuss.

I straddled him on the sofa, still completely clothed but thoroughly enjoying the heavy petting and making out.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to go to ‘parties’ again?” I loved Leo and I knew he loved me. He was the only man I wanted and I would be completely happy never having sex with anyone but him for the rest of my life. But ever since Marie questioned me at the cocktail party, made sure I understood the lifestyle he led, I’d been wondering if this was really and truly it for us. He was it and bam we were both monogamous? 

He made a fist in my hair and pulled back. “Honestly? I’m still so overwhelmed by you I can’t think about much else.”

“So maybe?” I didn’t know if I wanted him to say yes or no.

He cocked his head to the side as he examined me closer. It always felt like I was naked when he did that, like he could see every thought in my head. “I love sex. We have fucking amazing sex. I love you. I never thought I’d fall in love. Now that I am? I don’t know what else I could possibly ever want. I went to those parties because it was fun. I went on dates because I wanted to be the good in someone’s life. I’ve always been as fluid as water when it comes to relationships. One night, one party, two nights, two lovers,” he shrugged, “I just went with the flow as long as everyone was happy. Now my flow is you. I’ll go wherever you want, do whatever it is you need.”

The thing that always astonished me about Leo was how completely confident he was in himself. Everything he just said was the honest truth. He indulged and pleasured and enjoyed until there was a reason to have a reason. “So if I said I wanted to go to a party with you . . . or a club . . . you’d go because it was what I wanted?”

He flashed me a wolfish grin. “Darling, as long as I’m the one fucking this pussy I don’t care if we do it naked in Yankee Stadium with a full crowd. If you want ten sets of hands on you while I fuck you, that’s fine too.”

“And you’re not . . . upset by that?” I mostly asked out of curiosity. Would he really be chill about ten sets of hand on me? Would I be okay with hands on him?

I clenched my legs together.

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re turned on, Esme.” He ground up against my sex with his quickly hardening erection. “You should see how you’re blushing. Do you like imagining me fucking you while other people touch you?”

I nodded, then whispered, “I do, but I was blushing because I was thinking about how sexy it would be to look up at you buried inside me while there were people touching you.” Touching all the places I couldn’t reach when my body was his, seeing the loss of control pass over his face, the wild pleasure that would seize him.

I grew wet and ground against him. He groaned, gripping my hips. “If the opportunity comes up we might have to give it a go—just to see if fantasy matches reality.”

I stripped off my shirt, baring my breasts and begging him to suck on me. “Yes. For science.”

“For science,” he agreed. 

I combed my fingers though his hair, getting lost as he worked his hands and mouth over my body. Our clothes stripped away and then we were naked with Leo seated on the couch.

“Up you go,” he said, using his hands under my bottom to slide me back to the tip of his erection before easing me back down his length. He stretched me more, sank deeper, then did it again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Esme. You’re killing me.” His moves became frantic, desperate. He grabbed my breast, plumping the nipple so he could bite and suck on it. 

The new sensation sent a shock to my core and I groaned loudly. “Yes. Again. Again, again, again.” I realized my words matched the thrusts of his hips. I floated up into the clouds and the world disappeared.

Episode 8 hits inboxes December 25th!

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Alexis Anne

PO Box 2122, Indian Trail
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