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About this Book: There is nothing Connor Malone wants to do less than babysit the outrageous and out-of-control pop star Lyric Jones. But part of him relishes taming the celebratty songstress and showing her what it’s like to be possessed-body and soul-by one man. And though Lyric’s crazy antics nearly drive Connor to the edge, his quiet intensity penetrates her defenses, leaving them both vulnerable to the secrets that could topple Lyric from the stage.

Here’s an except from the book:

“You’re out of your mind!”

Pop Malone scowled at his son, Connor. “Watch your mouth. I can still wipe the floor with your scrawny ass.”

Connor wiped his hand over his short-cut hair and clamped down on the top in an effort to pull it out. Nathan Tucker had the right idea by shaving his head. It was something Connor was going to have to look into if he kept getting bombs dropped on him.

“Pop,” Connor said in exasperation. “We install security systems. Sophisticated, state-of-the-art computer monitoring equipment. We do consulting. We evaluate security for other people. We are not a goddamn bodyguard service.”

Pop huffed, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his adopted daughter’s desk. Faith stared wide-eyed at her father and brother but didn’t say a word. She was too glued to the conversation.

“If you’d stop your yammering for two seconds, I’d explain why you’re perfect for this job.”

“Oh boy,” Connor muttered. “I can’t wait to hear this. I better sit down for it.”

He flopped into one of the chairs in front of Faith’s desk and waited for his father’s latest harebrained scheme. Not that his father wasn’t a smart man. He was one of the most intelligent and cunning men Connor knew. It was the cunning part that bothered the hell out of him right now. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew. And it looked like he was about to find out.

“Phillip Armstrong is a longtime friend. We go way back. Served together in the marines. He’s a big-shot record executive now and he has a big-name artist on his label.”

“What’s the name?” Faith piped in.

“Lyric Jones.”

Faith frowned.

“What’s the frown for?” Connor demanded. “What do you know?”

“You’ve never heard of her?” Faith asked.

“Does she sing country music?”

Faith chuckled and shook her head.

“Then I rest my case. So why the frown?”

“She’s a bit of a . . .”

“She’s difficult,” Pop said with no preamble. “But you’ve dealt with difficult before. She won’t be a problem for you.”

“Why is she my problem at all?”

“And I’m supposed to fix this?”

“Phillip is scrambling to hire a replacement firm. One better than the last since they sucked ass. His words, not mine. She only has one more show and then she’s going to be sort of on vacation here in Houston.”

Faith lifted an eyebrow. “Why the hell would she willingly vacation in Houston? I mean, a girl with that kind of money ought to go to Paris. Or Italy. Maybe a beach house in the Caribbean.”

“I said sort of because she’s doing a show at the Houston Livestock and Rodeo but she’ll be here a total of two weeks. She also has some signing and fan meet and greet at one of the downtown music stores.”

“Oh, I get it,” Connor said as he pushed himself forward in his seat. “What they want is a babysitter. They want someone to sit on her so she’ll be good for two weeks.”

Pop had the grace to look abashed. “Well, yes and no.”

Connor made a rude noise. “Why the hell are you asking me? There are three other guys in this office all capable of doing this job.”

Faith made a show of blowing on her nails and whistled softly.

“Because everyone is either married or getting goddamned married and you’re the only single guy left. If I try to send one of the other guys to spend twenty-four/seven with a gorgeous pop star, I’ll have three pissed-off women on my ass. No, thanks. No offense, Connor, but you have nothing on the girls. I’ll take my chances with you.”

Faith smiled sweetly in her brother’s direction.

“Don’t think I won’t get you for this,” Connor muttered at Faith.

“Look, at least fly out to L.A., catch her last show, introduce yourself, see how it goes. What can it hurt? I think you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think. You’ll spend two weeks with her here keeping her out of trouble and keeping her safe.”

“Just how unsafe is she?”

“Oh, the usual celebrity stuff, I’m sure. Everyone wants a piece of her. Without adequate security, it could get dangerous. Phillip is going to get a local firm to do the peripheral security but he wants someone he can trust next to her until he can go through and interview larger firms that will handle her security on the road. He’s worried, and Phillip doesn’t worry about much.”

“Why the hell don’t they just cancel the rodeo appearance, stash her somewhere private for two weeks and get their stuff together for when she goes back on the road?”

“You’re asking me?” Pop said in irritation. “When has show business ever made any goddamn sense? These people don’t think with their brains. They think with their checkbooks and use dollar signs as their guides. It’s your job to be their brains for two weeks.”
Connor groaned. “Difficult and brainless. I can hardly wait.”

CLICK HERE to purchase Sweet Possession at Borders

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Michelle walked into the spare room and swore under her breath.

James had been playing his stupid computer game for two weeks. He’d become so engrossed in it that he’d barely spoken to her in the last three days. He didn’t look up or acknowledge her as she approached the desk, he was so focused on blowing away digital bad guys, his hands and arms tense as he hammered the keys.

She thought about how his hand moved when he masturbated for her, relaxed and yet urgent. It had been too long since they’d made love and she felt neglected and horny.

She was determined to get his attention.

Sidling up to him, she kissed his earlobe and nuzzled his neck, sliding her arms around him. She loved the way his chest was so firm beneath her touch. He kept fit and she liked that. She moved her mouth to his ear and began to whisper . . .

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You’re not alone. Researchers from the Kinsey institute recently found that women are having less sex today than they did in the 1940s. Their statistics showed that 42% of women who cohabit with male partners only manage to have sex two or three times a week. The drop in frequency has been blamed on an increasingly busy modern lifestyle and a lack of spare time.

If you feel that it’s time to “sex up” your sex life, For The Girls has some top tips for making sex a priority and putting the passion back into your sex life.

Read about it at For The Girls.

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