About Penny Reid

SEX! It all started with sex, between my parents. Personally I don’t like thinking about it, but whatever works for you is a-ok with me. No judgment. The sex happened in California and much of my life also occurred in that state until I moved from the land of nuts (almonds), wine, silicon… boobs, and heavy traffic to the southeast US. Like most writers I like to write, but let’s get back to sex. Eventually I married and gave birth to 2 small people-children (boy-6, girl-4 as of this writing). By day I’m a biomedical researcher with focus on rare diseases. By night I’m a knitter, sewer, lino block carver, fabric printer, soap maker, and general crafter. By the wee hours of the morning or when I’m intoxicated I love to listen to the voices in my head and let them tell me stories. I hope you enjoy their stories.

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“It’s easier to be angry and pass judgment than it is to take a chance. It feels stronger.”

I knew I always forgot the pain he caused too easily. Not anymore.

MY TEASERS: 

And if he’s the dark water, rushing in toward shore, I’m the tide.

Blurb

As captivating and complex as his ink, Jude is a mystery--and Cory's falling fast and hard under his spell. Against his better judgment to steer clear.

The rumors of Jude's past overshadow him--whispers of prison and an unmentionable secret that's kept him in the protective shadows of a local motorcycle club. As Cory probes deeper, he wonders how much he really wants to know. Especially since Jude has awakened something inside him that has been buried too long--and has him feeling completely alive for the first time in forever...

Includes a preview of Christina Lee's upcoming adult romance Two of Hearts.

EXCERPT

Chopper, get your ass back here!”

While he was distracted, I silently moved toward him, hoping to grab hold of that leash. But just as I approached, he took off again, following that same squirrel who’d taken a leap to the next large maple.

I was out of breath and now beyond frustrated. I shoved my hand in my hoodie, my fingers closing on a sturdy dog cookie.

When I looked up again, Chopper was headed straight for the skate park. Shit.

“Chopper, goddamn it,” I called in some last-ditch effort. “You don’t listen for shit.”

Unexpectedly, Jude York neared the cement barrier at the entrance to the bowl. His board clenched in his fist, he seemed to be assessing the situation as the large dog charged nearer.

He left his skateboard on the concrete walkway and stepped into the lawn. He squatted down in the grass, made eye contact with Chopper, and the dog changed course to sail directly toward him. What the hell was that about?

Some type of deep whistle emitted from Jude’s lips and instead of slamming into his chest, Chopper came to a sudden halt beside him. Like Jude was a damn dog whisperer or something. His strong fingers grabbed hold of his collar and he reached down to mutter something in the dog’s ear. Chopper sat down in the grass. Actually fucking sat down—I had never been able to get him to do that.

I became motionless as I watched them, even though Ace was eager to inch closer. At least one animal heeded my command. I wondered what it was about Jude that compelled Chopper to run toward him. I mean, I got the appeal, so maybe it was just pure animal instinct.

The muscles in Jude’s forearm flexed as he stroked Chopper’s head and the dog’s tongue hung out in a happy pant. The little fucker.

As I walked closer to Chopper, Jude’s eyes lifted to mine. And for the first time I saw an array of other emotions alight in them. The most blatant being amusement, as if his irises contained a flicker of light. His lips tilted at the corners in an almost imperceptible smile and he looked so dazzling right then. As he held my gaze for the first time ever, something tightened like a fist inside my chest.

Shit, he was stunning. In that exotic kind of way. His hair was a mass of short blond dreadlocks, his skin inked mainly in black, and his eyes were the most gorgeous light green I’d ever seen—almost like cellophane. And now those same eyes locked on mine and held steady.

Excerpt #2

“Come inside, please.” 

I followed him through the door, telling myself it was only to get Chopper acclimated. But Chopper seemed right at home as he bound to the kitchen and lapped at the water in the dish that Jude had set down. 

“I can’t stay long,” I said, feeling almost shy, like it was my first time at his place. “I have a shift at Raw Ink.” 

He nodded. “I just finished my morning at the Board Room, but I’ll be heading to the skate park.” 

“What was that one trick I saw you practicing the other day?” I asked, watching Chopper sniff around the room. 

“Hmmm . . . the one-eighty pop shuvit?” he said, shrugging. “The one I really want to trick out on someday is the upside-down three-sixty loop. But I need a pipe for that. They’ll have one at the arena for the upcoming games.” 

“A pipe?” 

“A curved wall with a lip so that I can hang upside down.” 

“Holy Christ, you’re going to maim yourself,” I said. 

He laughed. “It’s a difficult trick but I’m definitely up for the challenge.” 

Suddenly he grabbed my face and backed me against the wall, kissing me hard and deep and desperate. Like he was releasing it all—giving it all to me. “I don’t want to talk right now. I want to taste you.” 

I groaned and wormed my body closer, reaching behind him to grab his ass. We were both instantly hard and he ground his hips against me. 

“Every damn night I’ve dreamt of you,” he said against my lips. 

I pulled back to look at him. “You have?” 

“Oh yeah.” His gaze fastened on mine. “I knew I couldn’t have you, so the next best thing was the fantasy of you.” 

“Same here,” I said. “I’d lay in bed and jerk off to thoughts of you.” 

He panted against my mouth. “What did you think about?” 

“This,” I said. “Your hands on me, your lips all over my body.” 

“God,” he groaned. “And here you are. Right in front of me. And I want nothing more than to have all of that and more with you.” 

He backed me down the hallway, yanking off my shirt and unbuttoning my pants. 

It felt so urgent, like we were running out of time. Not only because I had a job to get to, but also because I never felt certain of how many more days we might have left. 

“I need to touch you,” he said, hemming my thighs against the bed, and forcing me to lean back.

SERIES READING ORDER

All of You (bk1) Between Breaths 

AMAZON US || AMAZON UK || KOBO || NOOK || iBOOKS

Before You Break (bk 2) Between Breaths 

AMAZON US || AMAZON UK || KOBO || NOOK || iBOOKS

Whisper To Me (bk 3) Between Breaths 

AMAZON US || AMAZON UK || KOBO || NOOK || iBOOKS

Promise Me This (bk 4) Between Breaths 

AMAZON US || AMAZON UK || KOBO || NOOK || iBOOKS

There You Stand (bk 5) Between Breaths 

AMAZON US || AMAZON UK || KOBO || NOOK || iBOOKS

About the Author

Mother, wife, reader, dreamer. Christina lives in the Midwest with her husband and son--her two favorite guys.

She's addicted to lip gloss and salted caramel everything. She believes in true love and kissing, so writing romance novels has become a dream job.

Author of the Between Breaths series from Penguin. ALL OF YOU, BEFORE YOU BREAK, WHISPER TO ME and PROMISE ME THIS available now. Book five in the series, THERE YOU STAND, coming in April, 2015.

Also, her Adult Contemporary Romance, TWO OF HEARTS is releasing on May 5th, 2015.

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GIVEAWAY

One Winner to receive the following: $10 gift card to the book retailer of their choice = An ARC of my adult romance releasing May 5th, TWO OF HEARTS, and some Between Breaths swag mailed

QUOTE OF THE WEEK:

What I felt for him was a distracting kind of infatuation.

Number of Times Niall Stella Had Glanced at Me During Thursday Meetings? Twelve. Number of Conversations We’d Had? Four. Number of Either of These Events He Might Actually Remember? Zero. 

The Number of Times I’d Seen Niall Stella Sweaty: one.

I mentally entered a “one” in the Number of Times Niall Stella Put His Arm Around My Waist and Pulled Me Close column.

a giddy check in the Number of Times I’ve Seen Niall Stella’s Bare Forearms column

a check mark in the Number of Times Niall Stella Ran My Hands Up His Chest column

Number of Times Niall Stella . . . Touched My Calf, Tucked My Hair Behind My Ear, Looked Me in the Eye and Asked If I Came.

Told Me He Wanted Me to Swallow His Come.

Recorded Himself Masturbating to Share with Me.

Was About to Kiss Me.

Number of Times I Told Niall Stella I Loved Him and He Had Sex with Me to Distract Me from the Fact That He Hadn’t Said It Back: one.

Number of Times Niall Stella Ruined Post-Coital Bliss by Bringing Up Sex with His Ex-Wife: also one.

Number of Cracks Between Decision Corner and Niall’s Flat (twenty-four) and the Number of Times I Considered Turning Around and Going Home (about eighty)

The Number of Times I Have Listened for Niall Stella’s Footfalls: infinite.

Number of Times Niall Stella Used My Name When He Said He Loved Me:

One, and counting.

“You promised.”

“Under duress.”

“I wasn’t holding a gun to your head.”

“No, just holding yourself to my body. That’s quite enough to put me in a state of duress.”

“My body places you in a state of duress?” Something wicked sparked behind his eyes.

“Of course. Of course it does. What a ridiculous question. Your body causes distress, disquiet, desolation, and puts me in a state of duress.”

He grinned, sitting up in the bed like he planned to stand up. “Maybe I’ll use it now.”

“...Be the marriage girl. Don’t be the hook-up girl. Don’t be her. She’s stupid and shallow. Yes, she gets lots of male attention, dressing in her sexy lumberjack or sexy nun costumes…for a time. But then she’s used up, hardened, disillusioned and desperate, because no one stays with the hook-up girl.”

I blinked at him, pulled my hand from his elbow, and backed up a step. “You’re disgusting and that’s completely misogynistic. What if the hook-up girl is using you just as much as you’re using her? What if she’s just having fun? This is the problem with society. When a guy sleeps around, he’s sewing oats. When a girl does it, she’s a hook-up girl.”

MY TEASERS: 

“Consider it research for your Structural Integrity class. Tell him you need to test the tensile strength of his steel girder.”

Love is funny. It comes in all different shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s hard to find and sometimes it’s sitting right in front of you, waiting to be recognized.

…They rest around in the dark, waiting to see the light, to be freed, only to be stuck, shoved and caressed in the dark once again.
Dicks are masochists.
They like to be plucked, tugged, slapped and swallowed.

“This just got weird,” he admitted.
No, buddy, shit got weird the minute your dick couldn't look me square in the eyes without me leaning over your lap to wink at him.

“The more I find out about this whole sex thing, the more I want to avoid it. It's supposed to hurt, even though books describe it as a ‘pinch’, you're apparently supposed to bleed everywhere—looking forward to that—and now you have to worry about cum falling out of you?”

Please note, doing it against a wall, not as easy as it's written. There's a lot of fumbling involved. Also, shower sex equals awkward as hell, especially when the shower head starts to drown you. Sex doggy style while lying over a couch, exhilarating, but watch out for queefing.

BLURB

Excerpt: Until July

 Additional Excerpt

“Um.” I bite my lip.

Until November (Book One) Until Series

AMAZON || BARNES & NOBLE

Until Trevor (Book Two) Until Series 

AMAZON || BARNES & NOBLE

Until Lily (Book Three) Until Series

AMAZON || BARNES & NOBLE

Until Nico (Book Four) Until Series

AMAZON || AMAZON UK || BARNES & NOBLE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

GIVEAWAY

Blurb

“Don’t Look Back in Anger” 

In one night, I lost five years of my life. Here’s what I know … 

I was homeless. 

I’m a recovering drug addict. 

My inked skin crawls from lustful eyes. 

I have a serious aversion to women. 

My gay partner is a home wrecker. 

I own a gun and I’m a damn good shot. 

I’m a makeup artist, but it’s an insult to my talent. 

I’ve never wanted to possess anything except my Ducati … until I met Darby. 

Now here’s what I know since that day in the ER when she pieced me back together … nothing—but a few random thoughts. 

My new “friend” is distracting, clingy, and obsessed with acronyms, emojis, and phrases like “breakfast soul mates.” 

I didn’t want to like her, but she crawled under my skin and swallowed me whole. Now we’re best friends and she’s my new addiction. I'd drink her from a shot glass, snort her up my nose, or inject her into my veins if I could. What I won’t do … is ever tell her that. 

She doesn’t know me … I don’t know me. When those missing years come back, I think she will hate me … I think I will hate me. 

My parents named me Patrick Roth, and this is my story.

Excerpt #1

Excerpt #2

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jewel E. Ann

GIVEAWAY

Custom design Timbuk2 bag and signed paperbacks of the Holding You Series, Undeniably You, and Idle Bloom - all to ONE winner