LOVING LUCAS
Lies & Leather #1
Violetta Rand
Releasing Oct 20th, 2015
Loveswept
This book was a delight to read. It was full of excitement,
love, fun, some sad stuff, and steamy action. This book
deals with a serious subject. Abuse, and a woman brave
enough to escape it. Karlie was locked in a abusive cycle,
that she could not get out of. Thank the gods that Lucas
showed up at just the right moment. He stopped Conner
form reclaiming her. sometimes it takes someone strong
to help a victim, and even if your not strong enough to help,
you can always call someone who can. In this case all she
needed was Lucas and his Love and devotion. Now if he
can convince her he is here for the long haul and will not
leave her. On a serious not if you know someone in this
kind of relationship. Help them however you can. As one
day to long may be there last. I hope you enjoy this book
as much as I did. If you do like this book,
please consider
leaving a review. The Authors really like it
when you do,
they value your opinions too
Perfect for fans of
Joanna Wylde and Monica Murphy,
Violetta Rand’s
explosive new Lies & Leather series
kicks off with a
red-hot motorcycle racer who rides hard
and plays for keeps.
Twenty-one-year-old Karlie Augustine is a survivor.
Twenty-one-year-old Karlie Augustine is a survivor.
She’s smart and
tough, but she’s in too deep with a bad
boyfriend who isn’t
above breaking her spirit—or her body.
Luckily, help arrives
in the form of a leather-clad,
motorcycle-riding
hunk on the right side of the law.
Lucas Lafontaine is
pure muscle, a Corpus Christi cop
who ignites something
primal deep within Karlie. And
when he offers her
room and board in exchange for
housekeeping, she
finally starts to feel safe again.
As their arrangement turns deliciously decadent, Lucas gets
hooked on Karlie’s
killer body and fighting spirit. He wants to
heal the pain he sees
behind her eyes, but to protect her he
needs to keep her
close, especially now that her psycho ex
won’t take a hint.
Even as Lucas fights his own battle for
custody of his young
son, he knows that what he’s found
with Karlie is real—and
that he’d do anything to protect
the woman he wants to
take to the finish line.
This
guy is too good to be true. Not only did he manhandle Connor, he makes me
laugh. And I can’t stop staring at his perfect face and body. Oh. My.
God. He dwarfs me—at least six foot three,
shoulders as broad as a Viking’s, and his eyes are chocolate. But it’s his full
lips that keep pulling me in—the way they move when he talks, his lopsided,
arrogant grin, that pouty lower lip that I just want to nibble on. Totally
kissable, and undeniably hot.
He
catches me staring again and I quickly avert my eyes. What am I thinking? I
just broke up with my boyfriend and I’m already scoping out this guy. What if
he thinks I’m a little slut? I’m not; it’s just been so long since I felt
butterfly wings flutter inside my stomach because a guy smiled at me. Too long.
Don’t
I deserve to feel warm and gooey inside? I want to feel pretty again, desired,
and certainly like I’m worth some effort. I don’t know when or how things
deteriorated between Connor and me, but I’ve been taken advantage of for too
long. Connor hardly notices me anymore, but he used to and I had fallen in
love. I guess I stuck around because I believed that if I could help heal his
broken heart, things would change. We connected in so many ways—we had both
even grown up without fathers—and I truly thought I could give him a reason to
be happy. That whole “two broken hearts heal each other” bullshit . . .
Alcohol
and drugs robbed me of any chance of getting through to him. He’s numb, so
volatile, and snaps at the slightest thing. Like a good puppy, if he kicked me,
I came crawling back, begging for a little love and attention.
“Wine
cooler or Bud?” Brandon asks.
I
return to the present and look at him. “Wine cooler.”
He
hands it to me.
“Let
me.” Lucas gently removes the bottle from my hand and opens it. “Here.”
A
complete gentleman, and just like that, I feel another flutter inside. Shit.
“Thank you.”
“So
do you have a last name?” he asks.
“Augustine.”
“Karlie
Augustine,” he repeats my name. “Vitals?”
That’s
an odd question. “Want my height, weight, and bra size?”
I
get a roguish grin. “Only if you’re volunteering.” With that, his gaze flicks
down to my breasts.
“I’m
a full-time student at Texas A&M.”
“How
did you end up with a piece of shit like Seville?”
I
knew it would come up eventually and he deserves an answer for rescuing me. “We
met at a nightclub a year and a half ago,” I say. “Danced and talked all night.
Nothing epic, just a big mistake. Racers have big egos and high expectations.”
“Not
all of us,” he assures me.
I’ll
give him the benefit of the doubt. “And you?”
He
sighs. “Really want to know?”
I
bite back a smile, half expecting him to say he’s a drug dealer or Special
Forces. “Sure do.”
“Corpus
Christi Police Department.”
“A
cop?” I squint at him, picturing him in uniform. It fits. “No wonder you
wrestled Connor to the ground like he weighed nothing.”
“It
doesn’t bother you?”
“Should
it?” I’m hopelessly focused on those lips again. What’s wrong with me? “Do you
abuse your power? Take bribes?” I try to keep a straight face.
“Depends
what you’re
offering, Karlie.”
My
eyebrows pinch together in total shock. He’s flirting with me. “Um . . .” My
cell chimes and I take advantage of the diversion, searching for my backpack.
“Right
there.” Lucas points.
I
kneel, unzip it, and fish out my phone. Marie? I answer.
“Don’t
say my name out loud,” she warns.
Like
a dummy, I look around us to see if I can spot her. “Where are you?”
“Close
enough to see you and the hottie.”
“And?”
“Notice
the way he keeps staring at you?”
My
eyes dart to Lucas; he’s drinking his beer.
“Yes.”
“Like
him?”
“Don’t
ask me that; he might hear me.”
I
look up again, and there’s a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m hanging up
now.” I disconnect.
“Where’s
Marie?” Lucas edges closer.
I
feel like an awkward teenager. “Not here.”
“No,”
he agrees. “But that was her on the phone.”
He’s
standing right in front of me now and I’m staring at his hard chest, wondering
what it would feel like to run my hands over his muscular body. “Yes.” I can’t
lie to a cop. “Stop using your superpowers on me.” When he’s close, I have to
throw my head back to meet his eyes. Shameless as it is, I’m enjoying the
banter.
“Not
superpowers, just good instincts.”
“Well,
quit using those, too.”
He
laughs. “You’d have me stripped down to bare bones if you had your way.”
“Maybe
stripped,” I say without thinking. I cover my mouth, shocked and ashamed by my
own frankness. “Oh God, ignore that last comment.”
His
heated gaze sweeps over me, his lazy smile replaced by something sexier. My
knees instantly weaken.
“Do
I detect sarcasm?” he asks. “Or don’t I want to know?”
“Oh,
you’d want to know.”
That
elicits a roar; his whole body is convulsing at my expense. “Are you always
that spontaneous, Ms. Augustine? Because if you are, you should see the look on
your face right now.”
“Let’s
just say I’ve always gotten into trouble for speaking my mind so freely.”
“I
rather admire it,” he admits. “But I also understand the hazard of being so
honest. You’d make a shitty poker player.”
“I’d
make a shitty lots
of things.”
“Hey.”
He snatches my hand, his thumb caressing my palm. “Don’t be so hard on
yourself. Didn’t your parents teach you self-respect?”
“I
don’t have parents,” I say, matter-of-factly. “You’re looking at a
foster-system kid, raised by the State of Texas.”
His
features soften. “Sorry, darlin’.”
“Don’t
be,” I say, finding my confidence again. “Taxpayers are funding my college
tuition.”
He
studies me for a long moment in silence; somehow he manages to weave his
fingers through mine. “You have delicate hands.”
I
nod. That’s always been one of the physical disadvantages holding me back from
being a better racer—weak wrists. And my height. “I think big.”
Our
gazes meet. “I bet you do,” he says.
Expected publication:
December 6th 2016
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~*~*~ Violetta Rand ~*~*~
An environmental scientist by day, Violetta Rand has been
in love with writing since childhood. Struck with an
entrepreneurial spirit at a young age, she wrote short
stories illustrated by her best friend and sold them in her
neighborhood. Rand enjoys outdoor activities, music,
reading, and losing herself in the world she brings to life in
the pages of her stories. The only thing she loves more than
writing is her wonderful relationship with her husband.
in love with writing since childhood. Struck with an
entrepreneurial spirit at a young age, she wrote short
stories illustrated by her best friend and sold them in her
neighborhood. Rand enjoys outdoor activities, music,
reading, and losing herself in the world she brings to life in
the pages of her stories. The only thing she loves more than
writing is her wonderful relationship with her husband.
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