Title: Pretty Hot
Series: The Pretty Trilogy #1
Author: Donna Alam
Hosted by:Francessca’s Romance Reviews



Synopsis

A charming playboy. A girl on the run from love. An exotic location where the weather isn’t the only thing that’s hot.

Kate Saunders is sure of only one thing as her flight to her new life lands in Dubai: short of joining a convent, her new job teaching at a conservative all-female school is just what she needs. Until she meets Kai, that is.

Cultured and worldly, Kai lives a life of wealth and privilege where he always gets what he wants. And what he wants next is Kate. He's determined their relationship is only going one place: his bed.

The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but it’s also littered with underwear when Kate struggles to resist his sweet, filthy mouth. Talented of tongue he may be, but he’s also not quite who seems to be. Kate’s life is about to take a turn for the complicated, making the one she left behind look easy.

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Excerpt

‘Well, when eight-year-olds make you feel small, heels are the only answer,’ I retort. ‘And I like nice shoes.’
Lazily pushing himself from the door surround, he saunters to my desk set at the front of the room. Almost lounging against it, he stretches his long legs out in front. Each facing the opposite direction, we’re shoulder to shoulder and almost touching as an electrical force dances in the air. I’ve never been more grateful for the curtain of my hair as he leans in, leans closer, then peers exaggeratedly down at my feet, his voice seeming to drop a full octave.
‘You most certainly do.’
Grabbing papers from my desk, I continue shoving them into my bag in an effort to avoid acknowledging the large, hot presence at my side. ‘Is this a social call or are you actually here for something?’ My tone could be described as arsey at best.
‘Pleasure, definitely.’ I think he’s still staring at my shoes, though I’m fairly certain it’s not a covetous thing. ‘I’m here to call in a debt.’
‘Oh?’ Pushing my hair behind my ears, my eyes rise in enquiry. He’s an accountant then?
‘Your rain-check. I’m here to take you for coffee.’
‘Coffee?’
‘That’s correct. A word of two syllables. A social lubricant.’
I swallow, hopefully not audibly. ‘With you?’
‘You’re enthusiasm knows no bounds,’ he replies in a tone as dry as toast.
‘But that’s . . . that’s not a debt.’
‘A promise is most certainly a debt,’ he teases warmly. But there’s something else there in his words, an undercurrent of steel causing goose bumps to break out across my arms. A man who’s unused to being turned down.
‘I didn’t promise.’ Eyes down, I continue my bag filling quest. ‘And I really don’t think it would be a good idea.’
‘The promise was definitely implied.’
‘I think you’ll find it was inferred,’ I reply with a snort. Great. So now I snort.
‘And,’ he adds, ignoring me, ‘you seem far too nice a person to hurt my feelings. As for it being a good idea, how do you know without trying?’
‘I don’t think I need to try you.’ I wish I could swallow the words at once; press rewind, suck them back in.
‘I come with a satisfaction guarantee.’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ I add quickly.
‘Just coffee,’ he replies, now sounding sincere. ‘Nothing nefarious. I promise.’
‘Sorry. Like I said, I’m busy. Flat out.’
‘Interesting choice of words. But busy . . . sharpening . . . copious amounts of pencils?’ Lifting the almost industrial sized electric sharpener out of my hands, he turns it in his own. It’s about then that I notice the almost bare surface of my desk. ‘A serious business, I’m sure.’
As I raise my head, his gaze hits mine, serious eyes staring down. I’ve suddenly run out of words, every beat of my heart pounding so hard, it has to be audible.
Placing the sharpener back, he stands.
‘I’ll even carry your bag.’
‘You’re pretty full of yourself.’
Smiling lopsidedly, his eyes travel the length of my body again. ‘You know what they say, one minute a cock.’
‘And the next just a bit of a dick,’ I mutter.
‘Ouch.’ He laughs softly, rubbing a hand across his delightfully stubbled chin. ‘I believe the aphorism goes, and the next a feather duster . . .’ He sounds almost hurt as his words trail away.
Oh, bugger. So much for not mistaking his intent. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘To injure my pride?’ His tone matches a perfectly arched brow.
‘No! Of course not. I don’t even know you, I wouldn’t presume—’
‘You can tell me how sorry you are over that drink.’
Not that upset, then. ‘I told you, I can’t. Coffee or otherwise.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘Does it matter?’ I ask, exasperation and my hands rising before me.
‘Boyfriend, girlfriend? Significant other?’
‘Girl? What, because I’m not interested, I’m gay?’ My face burns and all I can think is what says gay about me today? Surely this isn’t the right response.
‘I didn’t say you weren’t interested. Reluctant, but interested,’ he asserts, masking a smile. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’
‘I don’t see what it has to do with you.’
‘Obstacles, Kate,’ he says suddenly serious. Like an egg and spoon race or the one in the sack? No, the one with the sack! ‘I like to know where I stand.’
‘Why should I be interested in where you hang? Stand! I mean stand.’ My eyes flick involuntarily to where they shouldn’t before darting away. Interested, so interested but reluctant, he got that right.
‘To the left, if you feel you must know, and slightly—’
‘Is this how you talk to women you barely know?’ Talk about degeneration.
‘I think you must be a bad influence.’
‘And I think you must be delusional,’ I retort, straightening my blouse.
‘Because I’m back to being a prick, it seems.’
He exhales audibly, ruffling a hand through his gorgeous hair, not that I noticed at all. As he falls silent, I tip my head to peer at him, fascinated by the conflicting emotions playing and fading across his face: exasperation, annoyance and eventually, a hesitant sort of confusion.
‘What have you got to lose?’
Dignity? Pride? Undies?
His hand rises quite suddenly between us as he runs the tip of one finger against my face. He’s so close that for a mad moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, my breath halting as desire, swift and treacherous, blooms inside. He’s going to kiss me and I think I’m going to let him. Then his hand lowers, sort of hesitantly, before plucking one of the humiliatingly many pencils sticking from the top of my bag. He begins to write on my yellow notepad, the only item left on my desk. As pen touches paper, his finger sparkles in the light, sprinkled with glitter.
‘My number,’ he murmurs, placing the folded paper in my hand. ‘Think about it. You owe me for saving you, at least.’
‘Why do I feel you’re not going to leave me alone until I say yes?’ My voice is soft, lacking in strength and conviction as I stare at the folded note.
‘Because you’re a very astute judge of character.’
A smile leaks from his tone as he turns to leave, his words echoing in the empty room. Staring at the paper in my hand, my heart sinks. I fold it once more and tear it in half, because I know his words couldn’t be farther from the truth.



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What others are saying

4*
This is the first book I have read by this author and I can honestly say it won't be my last. She is a fantastic writer and captures your attention and pulls you right in. ~ AJ’s Book Reviews

5*
Witty banter? Check! Humor? Check! Exotic location? Check! Steamy sex scenes? CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!!!!
Donna Alam has found the perfect recipe for a funny and sexy story and shows plenty of promise for her additional books in the “Pretty” series. Not only are the conversations between naïve Kate and hot, hot and worldly Kai (did I mention he’s hot?) smart and funny, but the sexual tension --- and release --- is combustible! ~ Goodreads Review

4.5*
The story had a real mix of funny moments, intense sexual encounters and flirty banter while laying the foundations for a great story to continue on in the next book in the series. While a mind-blowing and explosive episode to Kai and Kate's relationship brings us to the end of book one we are also left wanting more ~ Nice & Naughty Book Blog



About the Author

Hailing from the North East of England, Donna is a bit of a Bedouin, moving houses and continents more times than she cares to recall. A bit of a clueless nomad rather than the stateless kind, she once worked at a school very much like the one described in her book. Alas, there were no Kai-a-likes floating about there . .

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Title: Missing Link
Series: The Finders
Author: Addison Jane
Genre: Contemporary
Cover Designer: Kris at CK Creations
Hosted By:Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis

Samantha Ashley knows the true meaning of betrayal.

When her father gets involved with evil, high powered Charlie, in order to bail himself out, he hands her over as payment. Charlie now owns every part of her. A fate over the years she has come to loathe, but accept. A chance at a normal life seems unattainable. She will never feel the touch of a man she loves, never be able to exist outside of Charlie's strict confinements.

Lincoln (Link) Davids is sexy and fearless. One touch from him lights her skin on fire. One night she rescues Link from Charlie's evil clutches. Link vows to save her from her prison but she's determined to push him away, knowing that Charlie would delight in ripping him to shreds.

Charlie is becoming more abusive, demanding her submission and threatening her life. With Link's promise of protection, will she finally find the strength to run, or will Charlie's increasing aggression finally cause her to lose more than just her freedom.



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Prologue

"Daddy, you can't do this!" I screamed at my father as he threw my belongings into a suitcase. "Daddy, please!"
He didn't look at me, he just continued hurriedly. I had known my Father was in too deep with some not so nice people, but I had never imagined he would use his own daughter as collateral in a deal that had now gone sour. I was his child, his blood; my little brother Devon and I were all he had. Our mother had passed away 5 years ago and we had stuck by each other solidly. His struggles with money had only started in the past year as his gambling and drug addiction worsened. It had quickly consumed him as the more we struggled, the deeper he dove into his dodgy dealings, bets and card games with high powered people while I stayed at home, making sure my 16 year old brother got to school on time, got fed and kept out of trouble. At 20 I was his surrogate parent.
Unbeknown to me, last night he had gone on a bender and joined a poker game with some of the richest men known in the neighbouring cities. He was running out of things to place on the table and after he lost our small house that we had bought with my mother’s life insurance, I thought he would have walked away. But here I was pleading with all my heart for him to not let them take me after he placed on the table his only daughter.
"He will look after you, which is more than what I can do." He muttered quietly, still unable to look me in the eye. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, staining my beautiful blue blouse. "I’m going to send Devon to live with Aunt May, so don't worry about him. You need to put your head down, be polite and gracious, Sam. And he won't hurt you."
I sniffed and sobbed as I followed him out of my room and down our short hall. Pictures littered the walls, I stopped at one of my Mother and I, her bright green eyes shimmered back at me and I swallowed hard trying to force back the tears that threatened to breach my eyes. I touched my lips lightly and reached out, placing my fingertips to her cheek. Oh how I missed her. People told me I looked just like her. We were both petite at a small 5 foot 2 inches and weighing no more than around 55kgs. But the thing I loved the most that I inherited from her beauty was my long wavy red hair. It was a dark red but in the light it shone a bright orange. Some people were ashamed of their ginger hair, but I wore mine with pride, my Mother always telling me how beautiful and unique it was. She would have never let this happen, she would have never bargained me for money. I felt anger rise in my stomach, anger at my Father. He was selfish and an addict, maybe in some fucked up reality this was actually my escape from a man who just didn't care enough about his own daughter to fight for her, to keep her safe.
I wiped away the tears that had now trickled lightly down my cheeks and took a couple of deep breaths. I didn't want to show this man who had bought me any weakness. I would be polite and accepting but I would be strong. Strength.
I walked into our lounge with my chin up and confidence in my stride. My Dad was handing my suitcase to a large man dressed in a black suit. He looked like a bodyguard; he was huge. And not in the sexy muscle kind of way, but in the eats too many donuts for breakfast and doesn't run enough kind of way. There were two other men that resembled him standing and one sitting in my Father’s large arm chair. He was handsome, older, maybe in his late thirty’s. He had rings glittering on his fingers and a light gold chain hung around his neck. His hair was short, like a buzz cut and a light brown colour, nothing exciting. But when he looked at me, his dark blue eyes bore intensely into my soul. I was about to be owned and the darkness behind those deep pools was unmistakable.
He rose to his feet and quietly moved towards me. I glanced quickly at my Father. He stood, hanging his head shamefully, still unable to look me in the eye. He'd just gambled away his daughter’s freedom, he should feel shame. A soft gentle hand lifted mine and my eyes shot back to the man in front of me. He smiled, almost softly.
"Hello, Samantha." He lifted my hand to his mouth and brushed it across my knuckles. "My name is Charles. I expect you are ready to leave?"
I swallowed and took a deep breath, polite and gracious my father had said. I was unaware of what this man was capable of so for now, I would play the part until I could figure out how to get myself out of this mess my idiot Father had created.
"Yes, Sir." I said, unable to meet his eyes.
His smile grew a little as I expected he was pleased he would not need to drag me kicking and screaming through the door. He kept my hand in his light grasp as he led me past my Father. I didn't even bother to look up at him as Charles stopped briefly,
"Until we meet again Daniel. Thank you for your business."
We walked slowly down the front steps of my small house, his hand still held gently to mine. Strangely I didn't feel scared. Strength. That's all I needed.
"Sam!!" I turned to see Devon sprinting out the front door and racing towards me, tears uncharacteristically streaking his cheeks. He was always the strong one, I was usually the crier. But for right now, I needed to be his strength. I need to show him I was okay. Charles dropped my hand as Devon dived into the arms I didn't realise I had stretched out to him.
"Don't go Sam, Please!"
I looked up at the man who now owned me, pleading for just a moment with my brother, he smiled softly and nodded, climbing into the back of the large SUV parked at the curb.
I took my little brothers face between my hands and held his gaze.
"Listen Devon. You are gonna go to Aunt Mays, you're gonna finish school, you're gonna do your best and I will always be proud of you." He shook his head profusely. "Strength, Dev. I’ll see you soon.
I pulled his face to my shoulder and wrapped my arms around him. I sometimes wonder if I would have run had I known Charles wouldn't allow me to see Devon. But after he threatened Dev's life if I even thought about trying to escape him, I decided to stay as far from my little brother as possible and just hope like hell he's okay.
Hope.
Strength.





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About The Author

Hi! I am Addison Jane!
I come from a small country called New Zealand.
I have always had a strong love for reading and writing and Missing Link, whilst not the first story I have written, is the first I will be releasing.
My favourite genre is romance, specifically MC, rockstar and young adult.
I'm a single parent to a beautiful little girl, we live in a quiet little town and I have a small but amazing group of close friends.
My other passion in life is working with kids! I work with them part time along with going to school to complete my graduate diploma.
I am fortunate enough to have a great support base, whom without them, I would never have stepped out of my comfort zone and pushed myself to share my writing with you all!
-AJ

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