"Tautly written, complex, and vibrating with
a dark sensuality that will have you at once blushing and anxious. You'll think
you have this book pegged . . . but you'll be wrong."—Christina Lauren, New
York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling authors of The
Beautiful Bastard series
From bestselling ebook author M. Pierce comes the
first novel in a provocative erotic trilogy where an anonymous online
writing partnership turns into an uncontrollable, passionate obsession
At twenty-eight, Matt Sky has the perfect life.
He has a beautiful girlfriend, a massive inheritance, and four national
bestsellers -- all penned under his airtight alias, M. Pierce.
At twenty-seven, Hannah Catalano is a train
wreck. Her boyfriend is a deadbeat and her job is abysmal.
Matt and Hannah meet online as writing partners.
Their relationship is safe, anonymous, and innocent...
Until Matt sees a picture of Hannah. Hannah's picture sparks an
attraction Matt is powerless to ignore. When circumstance brings Matt and Hannah
together, the strangers begin a love story that's passionate, poignant,
unforgettable, and unstoppable.
M. really wanted to go
all out for the blog tour since it’s been a long time coming – we have 20
awesome prizes!If you could please
include the list of prizes in your post, that would be greatly appreciated:
Matt's cool, clear voice swirled in my ear. It was distantly accented—New
Jersey, maybe New York—and a little husky.
He sounded sexy as hell.
I had the overwhelming urge to ask him to keep saying my name. Hannah,
Hannah, Hannah. Help me come. Warmth bloomed between my legs.
"Okay then." He laughed softly. I felt my reason melting at the
sound. "We'll play the one-sided conversation game. I'm Matt, it's nice
to—" Again, he broke into quiet laughter. His voice was rich with
amusement, but not warm. He sounded contemptuous. He sounded ready to laugh at
anything, simply for the pleasure of laughing with his silky voice.
couldn't help but picture the devilish eyes that must have accompanied that
Green eyes, I decided. Dark green, secretive and deep like a forest.
"I was going to say it's nice to meet you," he went on, "but I
guess we've technically met online. Now we're meeting on the phone.
Maybe…" He trailed off. I heard some shuffling. "God, if this is you
trolling me Nate, I swear I'm going to break your fucking—"
"Hey! Sorry, I—" I scooted over to the bathroom door, opened and
closed it, then sat back against the wall. Brilliant. Sorry, I was soaking
my underwear while I listened creepily to your voice. "—sorry, yeah. I
had to go in the bathroom. My sister is asleep."
Matt was silent for a moment.
"Is that why you're whispering?" he said.
"Yeah. She's really tired. We're at a motel, we just stopped. Pretty sure
the wall between this bathroom and her bed is a piece of plywood, so."
"Well… damn. I wanted to hear your voice. I mean, your regular volume
voice." He chuckled. "Do you think you could risk a few words? I'll
deal with your sister if she wakes up."
I smirked, imagining a conversation between my hotheaded sis and this glib
"I think that would be a bad idea. But, um. Sure. What should I
"With your normal voice? How about, the quick brown fox jumps over the
"Okay." I cleared my throat. I was suddenly painfully self-conscious
about my voice. "Um. Okay. The… the quick brown fox—"
Laughter exploded on the line. It was loud and sharp, nearly cruel.
"Oh… my god Hannah." I heard a clatter, then some scuffling. "Oh
fuck. You were really saying it. The quick… brown fox… oh god." Matt
dissolved into laughter again.
I glared at my knees.
"What's so fucking funny?" I whispered.
"Hannah. Hannah, I'm sorry."
I heard him take a few calming breaths.
"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry. Ignore me, seriously. I have a
weird sense of humor. That… that struck me funny. You have a lovely voice. Go
Go figure? What did he mean by that?
"Look, is there a reason you wanted me to call, or were you just looking
for some late night entertainment?"
"Pretty sure this classifies as early morning entertainment, Hannah."
"Okay. Well whatever. Look, I'm not sure why I—"
"I can't stop thinking about you."
His words stopped me cold.
His words, and something in his voice. Honesty.
"What we did," he continued. "Or what you did to me…"
My throat went dry. What I did to him. It should have grossed me out, the
thought of a stranger beating off to a few details about my body, but it
didn't. It intrigued me. The heat between my legs pulsed.
"You know what I'm talking about," he insisted. An edge came into his
voice at the slightest provocation.
"Y-yeah," I managed. "Yeah."
"You enjoyed it."
"You said you wished I were pounding into you."
I couldn't believe this smooth-talking stranger was dictating to me how I felt.
I couldn't believe I was blindly agreeing.
And I couldn't believe my considerable vocabulary had suddenly been reduced to
"Hannah, you made me come so hard. And I did it again, thinking about you.
Let me return the favor."