We're pleased to spotlight Lisa Desrochers' sizzling A Little Too Far series! We were hooked from the start with Lexie and Trent's heartwrenching and combustible forbidden love story in Book 1, A Little Too Far. Lisa has a talent for writing incredibly intense and scorchintg scenes that will burn up your ereaders. But don't take our word for it, read a HOT excerpt frrom each book in this sexy and refreshingly addictive series - we guarantee you will feel the heat and will want more.
Plus, Lisa has generously donated a SIGNED Paperback all three books in the series! Happy reading and Good LUCK!
Plus, Lisa has generously donated a SIGNED Paperback all three books in the series! Happy reading and Good LUCK!
A Little Too Far Excerpt: Meet Lexie and Trent
He lifts my legs and loops them over his, rubbing his palm against the grain of the three-day stubble on my calf. “You were together for a long time. You thought you’d be together
forever. It was what you knew, and now you’re out of your comfort zone. It’s
easy to want to go back to the safety net.”
He just so totally hit it on the head. I want the safety net. But the problem is, the safety net
has a huge freaking hole in it now. It’ll dump me on my head if I trust it.
But it still hurts.
“You’re right. I miss the idea of him.”
“It sucks,” he says with a small nod.
I sigh and shift deeper into the pillows. “But what if he was supposed to be The One?”
“He wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
His hand pauses on my leg, midstroke. “Because he never deserved you.”
“What if I never find anyone else?”
He stares into my eyes for what has to be a full minute before saying, “You will.”
An electric tingle zings through my insides, and the next thing I know, his lips are pressing
against mine. I don’t even know who made the move.
But it doesn’t stop there.
Kissing Trent is like sticking my toe in the ocean and suddenly being in over my head. I’m
drowning in him. I don’t know whether it’s him or the scotch, but as his tongue
edges my mouth and slips through my lips, desperation like I’ve never felt
before swells inside me. Years of suppressed desire rear up, and, suddenly, I’m
starving for him. The only thing I know for sure is, if I don’t have him right now, I’ll die.
My heart gallops in my chest as I slide down on the bed and pull him down with me.
“Shit, Lexie,” he breathes between kisses. “What are we doing?”
I grab fistfuls of his thick brown curls and pull him to me, smothering the question on his lips
with another kiss.
He doesn’t resist when I pull off his shirt, then mine. He doesn’t try to stop me when I wiggle
out of my shorts and thong and kick them to the floor. He moans deep in his
throat as my fingers trail over his cut abs and pop the button of his jeans. And
when my hand slides in under his waistband and finds his erection, he stops
breathing altogether.
Never during any of it, even once we’re both naked on my bed, does any part of me feel like we shouldn’t be doing this. All of a sudden, he isn’t my stepbrother. He’s everything I’ve ever
needed.
forever. It was what you knew, and now you’re out of your comfort zone. It’s
easy to want to go back to the safety net.”
He just so totally hit it on the head. I want the safety net. But the problem is, the safety net
has a huge freaking hole in it now. It’ll dump me on my head if I trust it.
But it still hurts.
“You’re right. I miss the idea of him.”
“It sucks,” he says with a small nod.
I sigh and shift deeper into the pillows. “But what if he was supposed to be The One?”
“He wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
His hand pauses on my leg, midstroke. “Because he never deserved you.”
“What if I never find anyone else?”
He stares into my eyes for what has to be a full minute before saying, “You will.”
An electric tingle zings through my insides, and the next thing I know, his lips are pressing
against mine. I don’t even know who made the move.
But it doesn’t stop there.
Kissing Trent is like sticking my toe in the ocean and suddenly being in over my head. I’m
drowning in him. I don’t know whether it’s him or the scotch, but as his tongue
edges my mouth and slips through my lips, desperation like I’ve never felt
before swells inside me. Years of suppressed desire rear up, and, suddenly, I’m
starving for him. The only thing I know for sure is, if I don’t have him right now, I’ll die.
My heart gallops in my chest as I slide down on the bed and pull him down with me.
“Shit, Lexie,” he breathes between kisses. “What are we doing?”
I grab fistfuls of his thick brown curls and pull him to me, smothering the question on his lips
with another kiss.
He doesn’t resist when I pull off his shirt, then mine. He doesn’t try to stop me when I wiggle
out of my shorts and thong and kick them to the floor. He moans deep in his
throat as my fingers trail over his cut abs and pop the button of his jeans. And
when my hand slides in under his waistband and finds his erection, he stops
breathing altogether.
Never during any of it, even once we’re both naked on my bed, does any part of me feel like we shouldn’t be doing this. All of a sudden, he isn’t my stepbrother. He’s everything I’ve ever
needed.
A Little Too Far Synopsis and Purchase Button
Have you ever gone just a little too far?
Lexie Banks has.
Yep.She just had mind-blowing sex with her stepbrother. In her defense, she was on the rebound, and it's more of a my-dad-happened-to-marry-a-woman-with-a-super-hot-son situation. But still, he's been her best friend and confidant for the better part of the last few years and is so off limits. It's a good thing she's leaving in two days for a year abroad in Rome.
But even thousands of miles away, Lexie can't seem to escape trouble. Raised Catholic, she goes to confession in hopes of alleviating some of her guilt and maybe not burning in hell. Instead, she stumbles out of the confessional and right into Alessandro Moretti, a young and very easy-on-the-eyes deacon only eight months away from becoming a priest. Lexie and Alessandro grow closer, and when Alessandro's signals start changing despite his vow of celibacy, she doesn't know what to think. She's torn between falling in love with the man she shouldn't want and the man she
can't have. And she isn't sure how she can live with herself either way.
Lexie Banks has.
Yep.She just had mind-blowing sex with her stepbrother. In her defense, she was on the rebound, and it's more of a my-dad-happened-to-marry-a-woman-with-a-super-hot-son situation. But still, he's been her best friend and confidant for the better part of the last few years and is so off limits. It's a good thing she's leaving in two days for a year abroad in Rome.
But even thousands of miles away, Lexie can't seem to escape trouble. Raised Catholic, she goes to confession in hopes of alleviating some of her guilt and maybe not burning in hell. Instead, she stumbles out of the confessional and right into Alessandro Moretti, a young and very easy-on-the-eyes deacon only eight months away from becoming a priest. Lexie and Alessandro grow closer, and when Alessandro's signals start changing despite his vow of celibacy, she doesn't know what to think. She's torn between falling in love with the man she shouldn't want and the man she
can't have. And she isn't sure how she can live with herself either way.
"I miss my best friend so much,” I add, as a tear rolls over my lashes.
“What we did stole him from me. I want him back.”
- A Little Too Far by Lisa Desrochers
A Little Too Much Excerpt: Meet Alessandro and Hillary
I open my eyes and there Alessandro is, his smoldering gaze raking over my body. I raise my arms slowly overhead as I move to the music, giving him an up-close-and-personal look at the girls, daring him to touch me. With this top and no bra, they’re a pretty spectacular
sight, if I do say so myself.
Jess grins and shimmies off to dance with a mixed group near us—probably the people she invited. I recognize a few of them from auditions.
Alessandro leans in and I catch his scent—some tangy, spicy cologne that seems to hardwire my nose to my groin. “That was quite the show,” he says, his voice thick and
rough.
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
I put on my fuck-me smile and swing my hips to the music. He shocks the hell out of me when he lays his hands on my waist and starts to move with me. I spin in his arms and grasp his wrists, feeling the strength in his forearms. God, he’s got great arms. I glide his
hands over my ass to the bottom edge of my tiny skirt. His hands are sure and
firm against my skin and he doesn’t resist me.
Heat pulses through me as I close my eyes and roll my hips in a circle. I glide his hands slowly up my backside, bringing my short skirt with them and leaving his fingers on bare skin, then
press my backside into him. He doesn’t miss a beat, moving his hips with mine to
the rhythm. I grind a circle against him and damn if he doesn’t play along. For
a guy who was inches from becoming a priest, he’s pretty bold. I loop my arms
behind me, around his neck, and press my whole back into his whole front, and I
swear I feel a low groan in his chest as his head tips back. His hands slide up
my sides and stop on my rib cage below my breasts.
I think my plan might be backfiring, because everywhere he touches me, I’m on fire.
I turn to face him and the look in his eye, hungry and raw, makes my heart beat faster. I run my hands over his strong forearms as his hands glide around me, pulling me tight to his body, one knee sliding between mine. His face is in my hair, his hot breath sending goose
bumps skittering over my skin despite the fact that I feel like we’re standing
five inches from the sun. We dance just like that, plastered against each other,
his hand on my back, his fingers brushing the bare skin at the waist of my
skirt, and I lose track of everything except the pounding of the music and the
heat of his body.
This was a very bad plan.
I wanted him to want me. I wanted to hurt him.
But just as I feel myself starting to question whether I might actually follow through, I feel a rumble in his chest and a low growl escapes his throat. I barely hear it over the deafening
music, but the next second, he’s pushing me away like I’ve burned him. His eyes
are closed and his jaw is ground tight and he just stands there, still as stone
for a few long heartbeats. He doesn’t even breathe.
“I have to go,” he finally grinds out.
“What?” I say, incredulous. “Why?”
He opens his eyes and takes another deep breath before answering. “Because coming here was a mistake.”
sight, if I do say so myself.
Jess grins and shimmies off to dance with a mixed group near us—probably the people she invited. I recognize a few of them from auditions.
Alessandro leans in and I catch his scent—some tangy, spicy cologne that seems to hardwire my nose to my groin. “That was quite the show,” he says, his voice thick and
rough.
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
I put on my fuck-me smile and swing my hips to the music. He shocks the hell out of me when he lays his hands on my waist and starts to move with me. I spin in his arms and grasp his wrists, feeling the strength in his forearms. God, he’s got great arms. I glide his
hands over my ass to the bottom edge of my tiny skirt. His hands are sure and
firm against my skin and he doesn’t resist me.
Heat pulses through me as I close my eyes and roll my hips in a circle. I glide his hands slowly up my backside, bringing my short skirt with them and leaving his fingers on bare skin, then
press my backside into him. He doesn’t miss a beat, moving his hips with mine to
the rhythm. I grind a circle against him and damn if he doesn’t play along. For
a guy who was inches from becoming a priest, he’s pretty bold. I loop my arms
behind me, around his neck, and press my whole back into his whole front, and I
swear I feel a low groan in his chest as his head tips back. His hands slide up
my sides and stop on my rib cage below my breasts.
I think my plan might be backfiring, because everywhere he touches me, I’m on fire.
I turn to face him and the look in his eye, hungry and raw, makes my heart beat faster. I run my hands over his strong forearms as his hands glide around me, pulling me tight to his body, one knee sliding between mine. His face is in my hair, his hot breath sending goose
bumps skittering over my skin despite the fact that I feel like we’re standing
five inches from the sun. We dance just like that, plastered against each other,
his hand on my back, his fingers brushing the bare skin at the waist of my
skirt, and I lose track of everything except the pounding of the music and the
heat of his body.
This was a very bad plan.
I wanted him to want me. I wanted to hurt him.
But just as I feel myself starting to question whether I might actually follow through, I feel a rumble in his chest and a low growl escapes his throat. I barely hear it over the deafening
music, but the next second, he’s pushing me away like I’ve burned him. His eyes
are closed and his jaw is ground tight and he just stands there, still as stone
for a few long heartbeats. He doesn’t even breathe.
“I have to go,” he finally grinds out.
“What?” I say, incredulous. “Why?”
He opens his eyes and takes another deep breath before answering. “Because coming here was a mistake.”
A Little Too Much Synopsis and Purchase Button (for $0.99)
In the follow-up to Lisa Desrochers' explosive new adult novel A Little Too Far, Alessandro Moretti must face the life he escaped and the girl he left behind.
Twenty-two-year-old Hilary McIntyre would like nothing more than to forget her past. As a teenager abandoned to the system, she faced some pretty dark times. But now that's all behind her. Hilary has her life on track, and there's
no way she'll head down that road again.
Until Alessandro Moretti—the one person who can make her remember—shows up on her doorstep. He's even more devastatingly gorgeous than before, and he's much too close for comfort. Worse, he sees right through the walls she's built over these last eight years, right into her heart and the secrets she's guarding.
As Hilary finds herself falling back in love with the man who, as a boy, both saved and destroyed her, she must decide: Past or future? Truth or lies?
Twenty-two-year-old Hilary McIntyre would like nothing more than to forget her past. As a teenager abandoned to the system, she faced some pretty dark times. But now that's all behind her. Hilary has her life on track, and there's
no way she'll head down that road again.
Until Alessandro Moretti—the one person who can make her remember—shows up on her doorstep. He's even more devastatingly gorgeous than before, and he's much too close for comfort. Worse, he sees right through the walls she's built over these last eight years, right into her heart and the secrets she's guarding.
As Hilary finds herself falling back in love with the man who, as a boy, both saved and destroyed her, she must decide: Past or future? Truth or lies?
"I have no right to want to touch you, and yet I want that more than anything – to convince all of my senses you're really here after all this time."
- A Little Too Much by Lisa Desrochers
A Little Too Hot Excerpt: Meet Harrison and Sam
Harrison’s blue eyes darken in the dim light, his gaze smoldering with barely contained desire. “You were amazing out there tonight,” he says, his voice low and rough around the edges. “The way you move is just so … ” He trails off with a slow shake of his head.
Desire twists tight in my core at the knowledge that this man, who is by far the hottest man I’ve ever known, wants me. Looking at the need on his face and coiled in his body, I
know for sure he wouldn’t go eight months without taking me to bed. That look
makes me feel sexy, and beautiful. It makes me pulse with need and ache in my
most private places. It tells me that he wouldn’t leave me waiting and wanting
for even eight minutes.
I look at him a moment longer, then stand and move to the stereo, cranking up the music; a
slow, haunting piece that I feel in my soul. I let it flow into me, through me,
and when it’s filled me, I turn to face him and start to dance. I lift my arms
over my head and move to the pulsing rhythm. I circle my hips in a slow belly
dance, and his eyes are glued to me, his lips parted slightly, and animal need
dances in his hooded eyes. He rubs a hand down his face and sucks his upper lip
between his teeth when I drop low, and his eyes follow the path of my hands as
I roll back up, my fingertips skimming my calves and inner thighs, finally
settling over the outside of my shorts, with my thumbs hooked under the
waistband.
The unabashed needin his expression starts an intense throbbing in my groin that I can’t ignore. So I don’t. As I move to the rhythm, I let one hand continue up my body, over
my bare midriff and my breast, finally twisting into my hair. My hips work the
beat as I straighten my other arm, tugging the waistband of my tiny satin
shorts dangerously low and bringing my fingertips to rest over the sweet spot
at the apex of my thighs. I’m all adrenaline, every sensation heightened, and
want pulsing through my veins like fire as I roll my hips in a slow circle.
Harrison tips his head back, blowing out a long breath between pursed lips, then stands and
adjusts his jeans around the bulge inside them.
I crook my finger, beckoning him to me. “Dance with me.” It comes out a throaty demand—all sex and desire.
His eyes flare as he stalks closer, stopping a foot away. “I thought there was a three feet rule,” he says, his voice rough.
“I’m modifying it to one foot.” He reaches for my waist, but I back away and shake my head. “Still no touching. Sorry.”
I lift my arms overhead, weaving my fingers loosely into my hair, and start to move again,
letting the music have me but never breaking eye contact with him. He watches
me for a full minute, then starts to move with the rhythm. He’s good—loose and
comfortable in his body. He rolls his hips and I moan a little, knowing just by
that movement that he would be amazing in bed.
God, I want him in my bed.
I’m not usually like this. I mean, I held out for five years for one guy. Since I gave up my V card my sophomore year at a drunken frat party, there’s only been two others,
including my one night with Jonathan. I can’t remember ever lusting this hard for anyone.
I turn my back to him and swing my hips, my ass “accidentally” brushing against the bulge in his jeans.
“Jesus, Sam,” he groans, his voice thick and a little strangled. The raw need in it is such a
total turn-on. “Are you sure I can’t touch you?"
He’s just inches from me, and the feel of his breath in my hair sends goose bumps skittering
over my scalp. The urge to spin and press my body against his is unbearable. I
turn my head so I can see him out of the corner of my eye. And, God, he smells
good—earthy with a musky undertone of sex.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He leans in, his lips nearly touching my ear. The heat of his mouth, so close to me, ripples
every muscle south of my waist. “Yes, I can touch you?” he purrs. “Or yes, you’re sure I can’t.”
“I’m sure you can’t.” My voice comes out rough, and he groans at the sex in it.
His lips brush my ear as he leans closer. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop
myself.”
I can’t breathe. The air is suddenly too thick. Too charged.
“Sam?” he growls, shifting so he’s against me. “Please say I can.”
Desire twists tight in my core at the knowledge that this man, who is by far the hottest man I’ve ever known, wants me. Looking at the need on his face and coiled in his body, I
know for sure he wouldn’t go eight months without taking me to bed. That look
makes me feel sexy, and beautiful. It makes me pulse with need and ache in my
most private places. It tells me that he wouldn’t leave me waiting and wanting
for even eight minutes.
I look at him a moment longer, then stand and move to the stereo, cranking up the music; a
slow, haunting piece that I feel in my soul. I let it flow into me, through me,
and when it’s filled me, I turn to face him and start to dance. I lift my arms
over my head and move to the pulsing rhythm. I circle my hips in a slow belly
dance, and his eyes are glued to me, his lips parted slightly, and animal need
dances in his hooded eyes. He rubs a hand down his face and sucks his upper lip
between his teeth when I drop low, and his eyes follow the path of my hands as
I roll back up, my fingertips skimming my calves and inner thighs, finally
settling over the outside of my shorts, with my thumbs hooked under the
waistband.
The unabashed needin his expression starts an intense throbbing in my groin that I can’t ignore. So I don’t. As I move to the rhythm, I let one hand continue up my body, over
my bare midriff and my breast, finally twisting into my hair. My hips work the
beat as I straighten my other arm, tugging the waistband of my tiny satin
shorts dangerously low and bringing my fingertips to rest over the sweet spot
at the apex of my thighs. I’m all adrenaline, every sensation heightened, and
want pulsing through my veins like fire as I roll my hips in a slow circle.
Harrison tips his head back, blowing out a long breath between pursed lips, then stands and
adjusts his jeans around the bulge inside them.
I crook my finger, beckoning him to me. “Dance with me.” It comes out a throaty demand—all sex and desire.
His eyes flare as he stalks closer, stopping a foot away. “I thought there was a three feet rule,” he says, his voice rough.
“I’m modifying it to one foot.” He reaches for my waist, but I back away and shake my head. “Still no touching. Sorry.”
I lift my arms overhead, weaving my fingers loosely into my hair, and start to move again,
letting the music have me but never breaking eye contact with him. He watches
me for a full minute, then starts to move with the rhythm. He’s good—loose and
comfortable in his body. He rolls his hips and I moan a little, knowing just by
that movement that he would be amazing in bed.
God, I want him in my bed.
I’m not usually like this. I mean, I held out for five years for one guy. Since I gave up my V card my sophomore year at a drunken frat party, there’s only been two others,
including my one night with Jonathan. I can’t remember ever lusting this hard for anyone.
I turn my back to him and swing my hips, my ass “accidentally” brushing against the bulge in his jeans.
“Jesus, Sam,” he groans, his voice thick and a little strangled. The raw need in it is such a
total turn-on. “Are you sure I can’t touch you?"
He’s just inches from me, and the feel of his breath in my hair sends goose bumps skittering
over my scalp. The urge to spin and press my body against his is unbearable. I
turn my head so I can see him out of the corner of my eye. And, God, he smells
good—earthy with a musky undertone of sex.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He leans in, his lips nearly touching my ear. The heat of his mouth, so close to me, ripples
every muscle south of my waist. “Yes, I can touch you?” he purrs. “Or yes, you’re sure I can’t.”
“I’m sure you can’t.” My voice comes out rough, and he groans at the sex in it.
His lips brush my ear as he leans closer. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop
myself.”
I can’t breathe. The air is suddenly too thick. Too charged.
“Sam?” he growls, shifting so he’s against me. “Please say I can.”
A Little Too Hot Synopsis and Purchase Button
From USA Today bestselling author Lisa Desrochers comes the third book in her sizzling new adult series.
If you play with fire …
Tossed out of college and cut off by her parents, Samantha West is in pretty dire straits. So when her rocker best friend hooks her up with a job dancing at a gentlemen's club, who is she to turn it down? Plus, there are rules to dancing at Benny's: No touching, keep your clothes on at all times, and never get closer than three feet. Unfortunately for Sam, her first private client makes her want to break every single one of them.
Harrison Yates is scorching hot, but he's got a past that involves being left at the altar not too long ago. Sam is determined to make him forget about his ex, but when she makes her move, it flings her life into a spiral of chaos she never saw coming. Because Harrison Yates isn't who he seems to be. And his secret will probably get her killed.
If you play with fire …
Tossed out of college and cut off by her parents, Samantha West is in pretty dire straits. So when her rocker best friend hooks her up with a job dancing at a gentlemen's club, who is she to turn it down? Plus, there are rules to dancing at Benny's: No touching, keep your clothes on at all times, and never get closer than three feet. Unfortunately for Sam, her first private client makes her want to break every single one of them.
Harrison Yates is scorching hot, but he's got a past that involves being left at the altar not too long ago. Sam is determined to make him forget about his ex, but when she makes her move, it flings her life into a spiral of chaos she never saw coming. Because Harrison Yates isn't who he seems to be. And his secret will probably get her killed.
“I’ve never been on fire like this for any other woman.”
My heart skips. “You’re on fire for me?”
He hangs his head, but his smoldering gaze stays locked on mine. “Burning alive.”
- A Little Too Hot by Lisa Desrochers