Tempting You Tuesday – Inarticulate by Eden Summers

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This is such an incredible book. It’s steamy and erotic. It’s emotional and heartbreaking. It’s simply incredible and you definitely want to read it!

Buy Links can be found below the excerpt!

Blurb:

He’s silent––but his touch speaks louder than words.

At first sight, Savannah is drawn to the harsh appeal of a man who refuses to talk to her. Keenan’s hard stare is arrogant and unapologetic. The quirk of his sensuous lips is cocky and in control.

But there’s more. There’s something deeper he’s trying to hide behind those steely grey eyes––a slight hint of vulnerability which captures her intrigue.

She’d been warned, told that his silence hides a myriad of lies capable of affecting her career and relationships with loved ones. Only she can’t help herself. Testing Keenan’s defenses is an addiction she can’t deny.

Falling in lust is easy. Learning his secrets comes with a price. The cost? Her broken heart.

Excerpt:

The man was still at the end of the porch, a beer bottle now visible in his hand as he leaned over, resting his elbows on the banister. He didn’t acknowledge her presence. She supposed a man with arrogance ebbing off him in waves didn’t have to. His dismissal gave her the opportunity to appreciate his ass stretched in well-worn jeans and the perfection of how his black jacket rested at his hips to give her an unhindered view.

“Hi,” she offered for a second time.

He didn’t move, didn’t even spare her a glance as she approached the bannister. He continued staring straight ahead as he lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long pull.

“It’s a lovely night for a family dinner.” Was he a distant relative? God, she hoped not, otherwise Dominic’s inbred tendencies were rubbing off on her.

He replied with a jut of his chin. A jut of his god damn chin.

What an asshole. And wasn’t she just the stupidest set of ovaries to walk the earth, because it only made her itch to push his blatant need for solitude, to poke at him with questions until he acknowledged her with the respect she deserved. The respect any human deserved.

“So…you like beer…” she drawled, glib as hell.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he continued to focus on the street. But still, no answer.

She could smell him, could practically taste his delicious aftershave on her tongue with each inhalation. He was a taunt to all her senses…well, except her ears because the pretentious ass wouldn’t say a word.

He took another swig from his bottle and straightened to face her. She could see his eyes now, the steely silver, almost blue, that made her shiver with their ferocity. He was tall, too. At least an inch above her even with her heels.

She pulled the pre-mixed bottle from her jacket pocket and twisted the lid to keep her hands busy. She could see two outcomes eventuating. Either he would smile, knocking her off her feet with the brilliance of his appeal. Or he was going to pull a gun from the inside of his jacket and blow her brains out.

Playa or gangsta. He could totally pull off both.

“I’m usually a wine drinker myself.” She raised the bottle of bubbly red liquid in her hand, slowly tilting it to her mouth. She took a sip, licked the alcohol from her lips in a deliberately seductive provocation, then lowered the bottle again.

Still, he gave her nothing. Noth-ing. He was the most accomplished jerk she’d ever come across, and yet she still couldn’t ditch the intrigue and walk away. Without a word, he had her tied around his little finger, begging for attention.

“I like your jeans.” She ogled his crotch, wanting to return the discomfort of how humiliating this one-sided conversation was becoming. “They’re snug.”

His lips quirked, giving her a glimpse of straight white teeth. Asshole. Asshole. Ass-hole! He was gorgeous, the faintest hint of humor turning his dangerous eyes playful. She lifted the bottle to her mouth again, this time ignoring any pretense of seduction as she gulped at the liquid.

“Are you always this charm—”

The front door creaked open and she turned to find Dominic eying them both skeptically. “What’s going on?”

She smiled, the biggest, fakest smile she had in her arsenal. “I’m having an in-depth conversation with this lovely gentleman.”

“Really?” Dominic frowned, his brows pulling deeper with every passing second.

“Yep.” There was gushing amounts of sarcasm in her tone. “First we spoke about our drinking habits, then fashion. I was about to bring up the topic of politics and world peace when you rudely interrupted.”

She glanced at the man in the corner, an arrogant smirk now curving those sensuous lips. He wasn’t the only one capable of being a jerk.

“Well, that’s strange…” Dominic came closer. “Because Keenan doesn’t talk.”

It was her turn to frown. “What do you mean?” Her skin prickled with goosebumps as the weight of both their attention focused on her.

“I mean, Keenan doesn’t talk.” Dominic shot his friend a questioning look, but she was too focused on her cousin and shocked from his words to bother with the silent stranger’s response. “At all.”

Keenan cleared his throat. It was deep and gravel-rich, demanding her attention. When she turned to him, he raised a brow, throwing the rudeness she’d been wordlessly accusing him of right back in her face.

The muted accusation sent a shiver of unwelcome stupidity down her spine. She became uncomfortable in her own skin. Ashamed. But who the hell did he think he was? Just because he couldn’t, or didn’t want to, speak didn’t mean he lacked the skills to communicate his inability.

“Oh.” She smiled sweetly. “That clears things up.” She turned her attention to Dominic. “I thought he was just an asshole.”

Her cousin snorted. “Don’t worry, he is.” He bridged the distance between them and flung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “Savvy, this is Keenan. He’s practically family. And Kee, this is Savvy, she actually is family, so stop being a prick and treat her nice.”

Her throat tightened and the moisture coating her mouth evaporated. Keenan stood there, taking another long pull of his beer, suave as hell, before placing it down on the bannister and holding out a hand.

She could already sense the exhilaration his touch would ignite. Her arm was tingling, all the way down to her palm and through her fingers. She stepped forward, sliding her hand into his, and tried to appear unfazed by the jolt that followed the brush of their skin. His mouth was mesmerizing. Both lips equally lush and soft. She wondered what he would look like when he smiled. A full, beaming smile. Would his eyes light up? Would the dark mysteriousness wash away?

“So you don’t talk?” She pulled her hand back even though a little part of her wanted to keep the connection.

He shook his head. Once. Stilted.

He definitely didn’t overcompensate for his lack of speech. Everything he did was calm and controlled—a jerk of his chin, a curve of his lips, a tilt of his head. The asshole knew he was intriguing. It was probably his calling card.

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Tempting You On Tuesday – Wind & Fire by T.J. Michaels

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T.J. Michaels is an awesome lady. She’s a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal interracial romance. If you haven’t read one of her books, you’re truly missing out. Her voice is real, her descriptions beautiful, her books worth it.

Her latest release, Wind & Fire, Volume 1, is a unique and epic post-apocalyptic romance. With her permission, I’ve added an excerpt below…

Damned woman. He couldn’t believe how badly this was going. But this was, after all, Rhia Greysomne, and if she was anything like the hellion of her youth, it was about to get worse. Made him wonder what it would be like to hold all that fire in his arms. To be the one to bring that heat flowing out of her as she lay beneath him. Or on top of him. Or up against a wall. Or on the floor…

“Care to say what’s on your mind, newbie?” she snarled quietly, her lips drawn tight around her teeth.

Yes, this woman he definitely knew. One side of his mouth lifted. Wrong move. She’d been somewhat aggravated before, but his pleased expression obviously wasn’t appreciated. Temper pricked, she took a step closer.

The nick in his skin stung and he thanked the Ancestors that Rhia had such incredible control of that blade. He was grateful he’d chosen dark clothing this morning. At least it wouldn’t show the blood.

Whether she knew it or not, she’d already drawn first blood, severely limiting his options of how to get out of this mess with his honor intact. He didn’t like humiliating a commander in front of her men but…

Nothing to be done for it, he sighed to himself. The Grandfather always said, “Once you’ve stepped in a pile of shit, you’re going to smell whether you keep the other foot clean or not.”

May as well sink both feet.

“I believed you were Blademaster here, yet you’ve blooded me for no reason. Perhaps I was mistaken of your station given your manners.” RuArk looked down at her, crossed him arms over his chest and awaited her response.

Joan’s mouth dropped so wide open she could have caught several fish if she’d dunked her head through the melting ice on the river. Perhaps that would wake her up. The woman also backed up a couple of paces and must have known what was coming. RuArk had to admit he had a pretty good idea himself.

“You know who I am.” Definitely not a question. “How dare you speak to me like that.” Rhia’s words sounded much too calm and did not match the fire flashing in those amber cat eyes of hers. The sword point sank a little deeper into RuArk’s left pectoral. The little nick was a thing of the past. It was now a wide but controlled cut, oozing blood down the front of his tunic. Most men would be squirming by now from the pain or the sight of the blood. RuArk was hardly bothered at all, and it only seemed to annoy her more.

Rather than answering her question, he simply arched a brow in challenge. The result—sudden silence. No movement. No sound. RuArk wondered if anyone still breathed.

Rhia withdrew her blade from his chest with a snap then stepped so close he could feel the heat radiating from her body. She tried to stand toe to toe with him, but even at her unusual height, her head only reached his chin. Realizing she couldn’t stare him down, she rose up on her toes.

Each breath he took was filled with her to the point he almost moaned at the natural scent of her body. He wondered what soap she’d used that morning. His gaze dropped to the path that a bead of sweat made as it snaked down her neck and disappeared between her breasts. That stubborn chin of hers was set just below a pair of lush lips made for kissing. And she was just close enough that if he dipped his head, he could seal her lips with his.

Even pissed off she was a lovely sight. Gods, he was a goner. In danger of losing his balls, but a goner, just the same.

But this staring contest wasn’t going anywhere.

So he said, “Rhia, I do think your father was remiss in not spanking your ass when you were a child.”

“Pffft! Step into my circle, sir,” she hissed through clenched teeth. She turned her back on him, walked away, then paused to bend over and stick out her backside. RuArk’s mask of indifference slipped—the woman wiggled her butt at him! An obvious gesture of how she felt about his thoughts on her lack of discipline. Stiff with anger, she stalked to the middle of the circle where she waited. Her belly button peeked out at him from under that cropped top. Blasted woman.

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