Showing posts with label Jodie Watters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jodie Watters. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Down to Fall




Title: Down to Fall
Series: Love Happens #5
Author: Jodi Watters
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 20, 2020



Blurb

A lust story. Only meant to be temporary.
A love story. Always meant to be permanent.
A hate story. Never meant to be.
This... is all three.

Nicole
It started in an elevator in California. Our lust story.
You know, the kind you know going in is a bad idea, but... the nagging desire and all. A few drinks in the hotel bar across from our workplace. A few nights in a luxury suite twenty floors above. What could it hurt?
Innocent fun would be had by all, and I’d walk away a well-satisfied woman. Ready to continue my life of brokenhearted loneliness.    

Grady
It started on a ridge in Afghanistan. Our love story.
You know, the kind you felt in your soul at first sight, but... the tragic circumstances and all. Intentionally casual conversation over Irish whiskey. Intentionally casual sex over the course of two weeks. How could I refuse?
Guilt-ridden bonds would be built, and I’d confess my darkest sin. Beg for forgiveness five years overdue and clean my conscience along with it.

It started with the cold hard truth. Our hate story.
You know, the kind that could end a surprisingly beautiful beginning.







Purchase Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

Ten minutes after he agreed, Nicole found herself standing inside a deluxe suite at the Hyatt, their tryst beginning in the lap of luxury.
It would end here too, but only after she’d had her fill of him and/or thirteen days had passed, whichever came first. Based on the way that gray t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and if there were tattoos and tan lines under it, she’d run out of time before she ran out of desire.  
Backing her up against the hotel room door, Grady leaned in but didn’t touch her, only locking the deadbolt and flipping the security bar, the sound loud in the hushed darkness of the room.
“You sure about this?” His masculinity surrounded her, warm and wicked. His height dwarfed her, tall and tantalizing.  
“Yes,” she whispered. “Are you?”
“No,” he choked out, his voice gravelly. “No, I’m not sure. But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
They’d never been this close before, but if she’d known his strength was so powerful, his scent so heady, his size so commanding, she’d have cornered him weeks ago. Probably humped his camo-panted leg like a dog in heat.
Well, he’d better be ready. She was about to be unleashed. Which was to say, he’d be on the receiving end of her largely limited—and significantly rusty—sexual repertoire.
Comparing herself to the animalistic dynamo that was a female canine in heat was her ego talking. Oh, she could get the job done, no doubt about it, but Grady might not be so impressed he’d hire her again, if you caught her drift.
Thirteen days might turn into a one-and-done situation.
But luckily, she’d made that quick drugstore run during her lunch break yesterday, so she was fully prepared. Condoms, a Lady Bic razor and shaving gel, and a king-sized Kit Kat bar completed her purchase. The condoms were a necessity—safety first, ’cause that’s how ole Nicole rolled. The razor because, between the two of them, he should be the only one with stubble. The chocolate was simply because she hadn’t had sex in a longer timespan than your average bad-credit car loan, and that fact would make any girl self-medicate.
Thankfully she’d had the foresight to buy a half dozen candy bars and wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d powered one down just prior to stalking him via the elevator tonight.  
Chocolate might give her cellulite, but it also gave her courage. Courage she desperately needed, because right about now, she was feeling like a born-again virgin.
Unsure. Unsteady. And unprepared for the sight he was about to bestow upon her.
Bare, muscled skin.
Their suite was several stories high, the only glow in the room from the small lamp on the nightstand and that of a thousand twinkling lights from the surrounding downtown buildings. The panoramic floor to ceiling windows offered an amazing view, day or night, and though the drapes were drawn open to the outside world, they were cocooned inside by the soft radiance of a single bulb.
The only people on earth.
Moving deeper into the room, his eyes barely left hers as he tugged his t-shirt off, lazily dropping it to the floor.
My god.
There were tattoos. Plural. And in nearly the exact location of her fantasies.
The letter F was inked over his left pec muscle, a single initial monogrammed in an Old English decorative script. F for Foster. Underneath that same glorious pec muscle was a short verse, in a cleaner, simpler font, that wrapped horizontally around his torso toward his back.
It was too dark in the room for her to read the words, but that task was now on the tippy top of her To-Do list.
What she could read was the larger quote tattooed along the right side of his collar bone. De oppresso liber. To liberate the oppressed. The motto of the United States Army Special Forces.
Don’t ask her how she knew that. It wasn’t a fun tale to tell.
“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”
Swallowing, she regained the use of language. “That I wanna lick your tattoos.”
A smartass grin graced his beautifully sculpted mouth. “Damn. Should’ve tattooed my dick.”
The button on his pants popped, the slide of his zipper letting loose a hoard of butterflies in her stomach when he opened the placket. Dark shadows hid his best asset, his intention only to relieve the pressure, not release the beast. 
He needn’t worry. She wanted to lick that too.






Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



FREE for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Always free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio


My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.

I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.

My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do. 


Author Links

Friday, March 6, 2020

Down to Fall




Title: Down to Fall
Series: Love Happens #5
Author: Jodi Watters
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative
Release Date: March 20, 2020



Blurb

A lust story. Only meant to be temporary.
A love story. Always meant to be permanent.
A hate story. Never meant to be.
This... is all three.

Nicole
It started in an elevator in California. Our lust story.
You know, the kind you know going in is a bad idea, but... the nagging desire and all. A few drinks in the hotel bar across from our workplace. A few nights in a luxury suite twenty floors above. What could it hurt?
Innocent fun would be had by all, and I’d walk away a well-satisfied woman. Ready to continue my life of brokenhearted loneliness.    

Grady
It started on a ridge in Afghanistan. Our love story.
You know, the kind you felt in your soul at first sight, but... the tragic circumstances and all. Intentionally casual conversation over Irish whiskey. Intentionally casual sex over the course of two weeks. How could I refuse?
Guilt-ridden bonds would be built, and I’d confess my darkest sin. Beg for forgiveness five years overdue and clean my conscience along with it.

It started with the cold hard truth. Our hate story.
You know, the kind that could end a surprisingly beautiful beginning.







Pre-order Links

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

Grady was on his second round of whiskey when it happened.
His rose-colored glasses were dislodged by a hot blonde—and yes, Nolan was right, he did always look on the bright side. Force of habit to offset his profession. And yes, Nolan was right that she smelled like peaches. Ripe and juicy, with a dollop of sugary sweet cream on top.
But back to the problem at hand.
Nicole’s surprise offer of no-strings sex—nothing more, nothing less, thank you kind sir.
As it turns out, theirs wasn’t gonna be a story they could tell the grandkids.
It could be a story for an erotic website. Perhaps a smutty romance novel. For sure, a fantasy you conjured up when you lost your internet connection during a solo session.
But a downright illegal story for the faint of heart, minor-aged children, and his ninety-year-old grandma.
She didn’t want a casual, exploratory relationship.
She didn’t want commitment.
She wanted another C-word entirely. A sexually explicit C-word, and yeah, he was good at that. And sure, he desperately wanted to do that to her, among other sexually explicit things. And no, she’d not outright asked him for cunnilingus, because had she, he would’ve choked on his Jameson and required the Heimlich Maneuver. But she’d made her parameters known.
Now to be clear, this wasn’t a bad thing.
It just changed up his timeline a bit.






Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio


My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.

I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.

My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do. 


Author Links

Friday, November 9, 2018

Have a Heart




Title: Have a Heart
Series: Love Happens #4
Author: Jodi Watters
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 9, 2018



Blurb

If he had one, she'd be the woman he'd give it to.

A runaway bride, searching for happily ever after.
A Navy SEAL, who doesn’t believe in such things.
A bar, in the middle of nowhere, and fate, who’s been awaiting this day. 


Tessa
When I left my groom at the altar, I didn’t care where I went, or who I met along the way. 
When I walked into a roadside bar in Nowhere, California, I wasn’t planning on staying.
When I sat down beside Jason Reynolds, I had no idea who he really was. 
My world turned upside down.
Now all I want to do is save him.

Jason
I tried to ignore her. The beautiful train wreck who’d crashed my pity party.   
I tried to fight temptation. Her sweet smile and smart mouth threatened my misery.
I tried to walk away. My blackened soul didn’t deserve her bright, hopeful light.
My team calls me Tin Man for good reason.
Love has no place in my life.







Purchase Links

99c for release day ONLY!!!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited





Excerpt

         I’m a wisher. Always have been.
As a young girl, I’d stand before my closed bedroom door, wishing a Barbie Dream House would appear on the other side.
“No way,” my dad would sneer, a cigarette between his lips. “Not unless I hit the ponies tonight.” Despite his habit of gambling our grocery money, neither ever happened.  
As a gangly teenager, I’d stand in front of a mirror, wishing for bigger boobs and a fuller bush because I’d just seen Candace Michaels naked in the locker room after third period P.E. class. You could say I was stunted in comparison. My only solace was knowing those envious breasts would sag one day.
As a community college graduate, I stood before the liquidated store I’d just purchased thanks to a small business loan, providing employment to the two most important people in my life, wishing to God I’d always be able to pay their salaries. Theirs before mine, it turned out, on occasion. No matter. There was currency in independence.
I also wished I could twirl a baton, participate in a flash mob, and eat cake every day without gaining weight. But, as my dad always said, I could wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up first.
His best and only advice.  
Through it all, I’ve stared at nineteen different sheets of paper, always questioning what I’d written, wishing many times over I was a poet. That I carried within me a grace to evoke tender emotion, along with the guts to expel the toxic ones, using nothing but a pen and the alphabet. Oftentimes I missed the mark, yet I sent the messages anyway.
Yes, I’m an old-school letter writer. A throwback to another generation. It’s not by choice, believe me. This obsession started years ago, and I only write to one person.
Him.
Lately, I’ve avoided it. There’s been nothing to say.
But now, in the middle of the night, I suddenly have plenty to say. To write.
The man lying in bed next to me gives me pause. I know he’s asleep before I turn to look, his breathing slow, but his body tense. Ready for the unexpected. A learned habit that might never leave him. There’s something precious in seeing him sleep, the weight of a nation briefly lifted. In repose, he becomes more man than machine, despite himself.
More real. More reachable.
Careful not to jostle the blankets, I slide the remote from his slack hand and turn up the volume on an informercial to cover the sound of my movements. No easy feat, given he has catlike reflexes and can hear footsteps two doors down. Smiling, my heart expands. Those are only a few of the many skills that make him straight-up cool, in and out of a uniform.
So far, so good, the light from the TV guiding me as I crawl out of bed and grab paper and pen from the dresser. Not bothering to cover myself, I stand in the same spot and write what’s in my heart, the words clambering to come out. It’s all I can do to make my cursive scroll legible. Most of my letters are like this. Born of furious inner thoughts.  
       Dear... I begin, then pause on the next looping letter.
I always write friend.
The safety of our anonymity now gone, I write his name instead, personally addressing him for the first time. He feels like two different men to me, both of whom I love, but neither of which I deserve.
       It’s odd to use your name. I might never get used to that. I might never write you another letter either. It feels wrong now, as I look at the face of a man who’s been my sounding board, my guiding light, my surprise of a lifetime. Soft with sleep, his burdens at rest, it’s a face that proves every sappy love song right. Love—and let’s be honest, a daily dose of sex—really is all you need. And pizza.
       Love, sex, and pizza. The ultimate threesome. But I digress.
       Everybody has one, you know. A love story. Even the non-believers, one of which is the man embedded within my soul. Some of the stories are good, some bad. Some of them, for the very lucky, are even great. Those are the ones that last, defying a low survival rate.  
       I’ve always wished mine—I mean, ours—to be a lovely tale that played out like a metaphoric fable, where hummingbirds sipped nectar from orange blossoms on dew-dampened spring mornings, our love growing from the softest flutter of paper-thin wings, to a steady beat so sure and strong, you could tell the time and temperature by it. What appeared outwardly fleeting could easily withstand the rigors of Mother Nature. Bring on the hurricane. We’ll wait for the rainbow.  
       Go ahead. Laugh your fine, cynical ass off. I was thirteen when I dreamt that gem up, and while you might be hero material to me and many others, you’re no fairy tale prince. God knows, I’m no princess, so I’m laughing right along with you. We’re the sorriest pair of hummingbirds ever.
       But the thing is… I don’t care how it really happened.
        Just that it did.
I continue to bleed words of love, and then regret, onto the page, desperate to say everything I need to. Confess my sins the only way I know how.
“Hey.”
The rustling of sheets interrupts me, and I quickly slide the paper into the drawer, reaching for his discarded t-shirt at the same time.
Slipping it on, I cover my nakedness and grin at the scowl that crosses his gorgeous face. Rolling to his side, his unguarded eyes beckon me.      
“C’mere.” Patting the bed, his voice is rough with sleep.
Without hesitation, I let him envelop me in his strong, capable arms.
Nuzzling my hair, he asks the question I’m prepared for. “What were you doing? It’s zero dark thirty.”
“Nothing.” Burying my face in his neck, I kiss him and fight tears, feeling far more secure than I should. The taste of his skin is achingly familiar, and I let my lips linger. The privilege, I know, is temporary. “Just shaking off a dream.”
“Mmm,” he rumbles, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. “A good one or bad?”
The answer is complicated.
“Both,” I finally admit, the tears falling unbidden. I hide them, and the darkness allows me my privacy. “Tighter,” I whisper, and he just seems to know, the band of his arms flexing.
My breathing is shallow, but my love is deep, and I selfishly ask for more. “Tighter. Please.”   
Screw hummingbirds and orange blossoms.  
      This is the love story—the sad, but true story—I’m meant to be in.






Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio


My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.

I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.

My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do. 


Author Links

Friday, October 26, 2018

Have a Heart




Title: Have a Heart
Series: Love Happens #4
Author: Jodi Watters
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Sommer Stein,
Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Release Date: November 9, 2018



Blurb

If he had one, she'd be the woman he'd give it to.

A runaway bride, searching for happily ever after.
A Navy SEAL, who doesn’t believe in such things.
A bar, in the middle of nowhere, and fate, who’s been awaiting this day. 


Tessa
When I left my groom at the altar, I didn’t care where I went, or who I met along the way. 
When I walked into a roadside bar in Nowhere, California, I wasn’t planning on staying.
When I sat down beside Jason Reynolds, I had no idea who he really was. 
My world turned upside down.
Now all I want to do is save him.

Jason
I tried to ignore her. The beautiful train wreck who’d crashed my pity party.   
I tried to fight temptation. Her sweet smile and smart mouth threatened my misery.
I tried to walk away. My blackened soul didn’t deserve her bright, hopeful light.
My team calls me Tin Man for good reason.
Love has no place in my life.







Pre-order Links

99c for a limited time

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU





Excerpt

Some things in life were worth the wait.
The line for the tallest roller coaster at Six Flags. A Chanel handbag once it went on sale. The pizza delivery guy.
Jason Reynolds naked.
Tessa was three for four so far, but if his willingness to follow her into a purple motel room without a fight was any indication, she’d be averaging perfect come morning.
After his remarkably personal revelation, she was shocked there wasn’t a cloud of dust in his wake, his truck speeding down the highway, never to return.
A veteran—Special Forces, at that—voicing his concern over integrating back into society, potential PTSD, and what to do with skills that served him well in the military world but not so much in the civilian one, was tantamount to laying down arms.
She’d been surprised by his uncertainty. It was such a human condition from a guy who appeared… well, inhuman.
Physically, he was an imposing man. Tall, close to six-three, if she guessed, his hair as dark as his aura. And built, his body a supplement-free masterpiece people paid a certified trainer top dollar to achieve. Based on appearance and manner, he could carry the world’s population with one hand, using the other to fend off scores of enemies.
But beyond the corded muscle and bad attitude was simply a person, no different than any other. Not that he was keen to admit it. 
Leading him by the hand, she stopped at her door to fish the key from her purse and he pressed into her from behind, surrounding her. The Tumbleweed was a ghost town this time of night, the long balcony lined with doors free of other guests.
Public, yet private. 
Sweeping her hair aside, he growled against her ear. “This is a bad idea.” Then he nuzzled the sensitive rim. “Tell me to fuck off.”
He licked her lobe, a teaser of what was to come, and a full-body shiver raced through her. He groaned at her little shimmy and rocked his hips into her.
“You’re slumming it,” he murmured. “Go back to your almost perfect life.”
A courtesy warning she didn’t heed.
“There’s no tomorrow with me.” He bit the nape of her neck, then licked the sting. “I’m walking away from here.”
Rough stubble scraped her skin, the burn a reminder of his powerful masculinity.
“I’ll go back to my room and jerk off until I go blind. It’ll be in your best interest.”
Her pulse spiked at the visual, a whimper escaping. “Don’t you remember my kink? It wasn’t a joke. I wanna watch.”
 “That would defeat the purpose.”
“Pretty please?” Turning around, she brushed her lips over his. “I’d let you watch me too.” 
He groaned against her mouth but didn’t kiss her back. “I’m not gonna take it easy on you. You’ll get it how I wanna give it.”
“Mmm, fine by me.” Burying her face in his throat, she inhaled him. Musk and delicious man. 
“Gentle isn’t in my vocabulary.”
Moisture flooded her. “If you’re trying to change my mind, it isn’t working.”
“You want candles and poetry, go find somebody else.”
Jesus, he wouldn’t give up. “I only want you.”
“And I only want you,” he breathed, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “God help me, I only want you.”
She groaned at his tortured prayer, but his mouth covered hers, stopping any more she might say. Stopping any more he might say.
The glide of his lips stole her breath.
The rasp of his tongue erased the outside world. 
His kiss was hot, wet, and methodical. Slow in speed but deep with desire, he pushed her against the door with more force than necessary given she was a willing participant. Sparks singed her nerves with every teasing dip and skillful lash of his tongue, and she craved that same touch lower. Much lower.  
A need to be taken hard and fast consumed her. A need that was edged in fear.
He might be Jason, but he was still a stranger.
Sensing that fear, he lifted his mouth. “I might be rough, but I’m in control. If you say stop, I’ll stop. At any time.” 
She nipped his bottom lip, voice shaky. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.” Shadows hid his face when he stepped back, putting physical inches between them that equaled emotional miles.
“I’m not and never will be. Get over it.” Fumbling with the key, she opened the door. “Did I tell you I’m wearing my favorite panties tonight?”
He growled.
It could have meant yes, could have meant no.
“You’ve made a wet mess in them,” she scolded. “I need you to come in and clean it up.”
There was a muffled groan and two seconds later, she was atop the dresser, Jason between her spread legs and the door ricocheting shut.
So that worked.





Also Available


AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Free in Kindle Unlimited



FREE for a limited time!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Always free in Kindle Unlimited






Author Bio


My love for steamy romance began when I was in junior high. A friend and I noticed a dumpster of discarded paperbacks behind our local dime store. Covers missing and each book split down the spine, I scanned the pages for any love or lust words—and curse words, too. From that point on, I scoured the public library and the paperback racks at every store, reading anything labeled romance. I said a tearfully grateful goodbye to Judy Bloom, and Jackie Collins began ruling my world.

I live with my high school sweetheart husband in the desert Southwest. Awesome in the winter, not so much in the summer.

My life long goals are to think before I speak, smile more and swear less, and actually weigh what my driver's license states I do. 


Author Links