Book Hoarder Mom is hosting an event on Facebook celebrating the release of Kim Carmichael's new novel Typecast.
Click here to head there now!
There's a giveaway posted and also details on how to receive a FREE GIFT WITH PURCHASE of TYPECAST.
Here's an excerpt and the Amazon link for Typecast as well :
The issue wasn’t not wanting him—it was wanting him too badly. With too many questions building like the heat through her body, she flipped over. “What do you want?”
Without a word, he took her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” Though she didn’t resist, she put one hand on his chest in a sad mock show of defiance, but she gained the opportunity to take in his smooth, tight skin.
“Answering your question. I want to hold my lady in bed.” He pulled her closer.
“Your lady?” What did he mean? His arms suffocated her, but she couldn’t leave. Instead she gasped for air.
“Yes.” He rubbed her back. “In case you’re wondering, in my definition of the word, it’s not an English title.”
She refused to react, refused to acknowledge how her stomach fluttered, refused to take in the scent of his soap. “What do you want, Logan?”
“For someone with enough smarts to earn multiple degrees, I thought I made my intentions very clear.” His breath brushed against her lips. “I want you.”
“Logan.” Unsure if she wanted to slap him or grab him, she opted for feeling his chest again. How could he want her? “When you were a teenager, what did you want?”
“A motocross bike and a naughty magazine.” He let out a laugh.
“You don’t understand.” She shook her head.
“Yes, I do. What I’m trying to tell you is the boy that wanted a bike and naked pictures is not the same man who met a woman and now wants her.” He moved her bangs off her forehead. “The girl who saw a character in a movie and had a crush is not the same as the woman who met a man years later.”
Could she let go and be with him and not worry every time he wasn’t in her sight? “What’s your fantasy, Logan?” All her cards were faceup on the table. He knew everything, and they needed to even the odds.
“Not Erin, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I want to kiss you until neither of us can breathe, and then I want to take my time and explore every inch of you until you’re writhing beneath me. Then, I want to make love to you until you have no choice but to dig your nails into my back and scream.” He took her chin in his hand.