 HERE TOMORROW FRIDAY 7 PM PST. JENNIE KEW AUTHOR OF: THIS TIME AROUND (SEE NEW EXCERPT)  
Jane Melville has done some very stupid things in her life. Having an open sexual relationship with someone who turned out to be a thieving con man and left her standing at the altar--pregnant and penniless--was one of the worst. With her dreams of owning her own catering business down the drain and the prospect of working at her family's patisserie for the rest of her life looking more and more likely, Jane is determined to make the most of her misfortunes. After all, things could be worse. Her baby daddy might have turned out to be the con man instead of the tall, brooding lawyer, Rafael Bennett. But just because she's willing to have a baby with the man doesn't mean she has to like him.
Rafe Bennett's life has been one of responsibility and heartache. A long time ago, he was forced to give up the girl of his dreams, then made to bear the brunt of her anger for his trouble. In the years since, he has shared his bed with Jane Melville more times than he can count, snatching moments of erotic bliss whenever he can, but when she chose to marry someone else, Rafe walked away for good. Or so he thought. When fate thrusts Jane back into his life--complete with a baby on board--Rafe seizes the opportunity with both hands. He lost her once and never truly got her back, but he's determined to change their fate. He knows in his heart that with a little persuasion and a whole lot of cake, everything will be different this time around!
LAST DAY!
Rafe squinted against the rain as he trudged through town, around the back of the pub, up the hill and through the scrub to Bennett's Road. It wasn't a shortcut as such, considering the twenty minutes, it took to walk home that way as opposed to the five minutes it would have taken by car, but the well-worn bush track that led to The Forge had been used by the Bennetts for decades. Rafe knew it like the back of his hand. And a good walk, uphill and facing into the storm that had cracked open the skies five seconds after crawling out Jane's window, was exactly what he needed. His thigh muscles burned as he made his way up the hill, his boots sinking into the muddy ground and his jeans soaked through. The wet denim clung to his long legs and restricted his movements, and his T-shirt stuck to his skin, but there came a point where he stopped noticing how wet he was and could focus on only one thing. I'm going to be a father. At least he hoped he was. Hoped with a desperation he never knew he owned. But years of listening to people tell lie after lie to avoid the consequences of their actions blended with the anxiety gnawing away inside him, begging him to look at the situation objectively. Yes, there was every possibility Jane's baby was his, but just as much of a chance that it wasn't. And it was the latter option that had his stomach in knots. Rafe exited the scrub edging the road, The Forge looming large before him. Crossing the dirt road in front of the house, he jumped over the tiny stream forming in the gutter and a moment later was through the front door, down the hall and standing in the welcoming warmth of the lounge room. "Your sister will have your guts for garters when she sees the mud you've tracked in here." Ulysses Bennett stood by the fireplace, warming his weathered hands. A tall, slim man with piercing blue eyes, scruffy silver hair, and a neatly trimmed silver beard, his father struck an imposing figure, even at the age of seventy-two. Recently single, the family patriarch had moved back home. How long he stayed this time depended on how long it took for his next conquest to come along. That coupled with the fact the entire Bennett family was home for Jane's wedding meant the house was overflowing with people. Large, tall, sometimes very loud people. Not that that was anything new. The Bennett household had always been a full one, but Rafe had grown used to living by himself in the quiet confines of his city apartment. By moving home permanently, he'd seemingly given up that solitude, exchanged it for kookaburras laughing outside his window at the butt-crack of dawn and trying in vain to block out the sounds of his sister and future brother-in-law going at it hammer and tongs at all hours of the day and night. "Last I checked, this was your house, not hers," Rafe said. Even so, he toed off his boots, carried them to the back door, and stacked them neatly on Abby's exquisite wrought-iron shoe rack. His sister's skill with the metal rivalled that of his brothers, Oliver and Henry, and they were widely regarded as being at the zenith of the art form. Turning back the way he came, Rafe saw what his father had and realised the old man was right. Abby would pitch a fit if she saw this mess. With a ragged sigh, he pulled his soggy T-shirt off and used it to clean the floor. His father watched him, amusement etched across his face. "So," Ulysses said when Rafe joined him by the fire, "is the kid yours?"
How far will one man go to avenge his last remaining family? Luke Hardcastle is a man on a mission—no one hurts his little sister and gets away with it. Eighteen months ago Claire Morse helped her sadistic aunt destroy Luke's sister, so it only seems fair she returns the favour now and helps him destroy her aunt. And if holding the lease to her bookstore over her head ensures her cooperation, all the better. But the more time he spends with Claire, the harder it becomes to keep his head in the game and his heart under wraps. Torn between the two, can Luke get the girl and his revenge, or will he have to sacrifice one to keep the other?
How far will one woman go to protect her newfound freedom? Eighteen months ago, Claire Morse lost her job, her home, and her self-respect all in one day. But the great thing about hitting rock bottom is you can only go up. Claire has worked hard to free herself from the horrors of her past and she'll do anything to protect her new life. Even submit to blackmail. But when being blackmailed means pretending to be the girlfriend of the tall, dark and wickedly handsome Luke Hardcastle—the man she's loved from afar for years—she realises she's been given a chance at redemption, to fix the one mistake that haunts her still. And now she's had a taste of Luke up close and personal, how will her inexperienced heart survive when his thirst for vengeance is satisfied, and he no longer needs her?
Luke sat beside Claire on the open deck of the ferry and tucked her into his side. She was quiet, even for her. The cool air whipped around them as they traversed the river and he rubbed his hand up and down her arm in a vain attempt to keep her warm. He smiled against her hair when she turned her body towards his and slid her hand inside his jacket. Next time he saw that sonofabitch he was going to knock his fucking block off. "Excuse me." Luke looked up to see an attractive blonde with too much eye makeup gazing down at him. Claire's arm tightened around his waist. "I'm sorry. I never do this, but do I know you? You look very familiar." Sure I do. Luke knew a line when he heard one, and he'd heard that old chestnut more times than he could count. "Sorry, no. You're probably confusing me with someone else." "Are you sure?" she said, planting herself in the seat on the other side of him, angling her leg so it was touching his. "You really do look so familiar." In the past, he would've played long. He would've taken her out for a drink told her she was beautiful, gone back to her place, had unsatisfying sex and snuck out before dawn. But now…? "Sorry. I just have one of those faces." She didn't take the hint. "But, really—" "For fuck's sake," Claire muttered quietly, getting to her feet. "Claire," Luke said her name like a warning, although what he was warning her against doing he wasn't quite sure. He certainly hadn't expected her to push his knees together then seat herself in his lap with her back towards the blonde, effectively shutting the clueless twit down. Luke chuckled. "What are you doing?" "Helping you resist the urge to man-spread," she said, then wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Rude," the blonde muttered, but she finally walked away. Claire snorted. "Yeah, I'm the rude one," she said. "Does that happen to you often?" "More than I'd like," he admitted. "Does what happened to you happen often?" "More than I'd like," she said quietly. Luke tightened his arms around her. He wasn't just going to knock Chris's block off. He was going to rip him a new arsehole while he was at it.
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  COMING FRIDAY 7 PM PST. JENNIE KEW AUTHOR OF: THIS TIME AROUND (SEE EXCERPTS) AUTHOR OF: 
Jane Melville has done some very stupid things in her life. Having an open sexual relationship with someone who turned out to be a thieving con man and left her standing at the altar--pregnant and penniless--was one of the worst. With her dreams of owning her own catering business down the drain and the prospect of working at her family's patisserie for the rest of her life looking more and more likely, Jane is determined to make the most of her misfortunes. After all, things could be worse. Her baby daddy might have turned out to be the con man instead of the tall, brooding lawyer, Rafael Bennett. But just because she's willing to have a baby with the man doesn't mean she has to like him.
Rafe Bennett's life has been one of responsibility and heartache. A long time ago, he was forced to give up the girl of his dreams, then made to bear the brunt of her anger for his trouble. In the years since, he has shared his bed with Jane Melville more times than he can count, snatching moments of erotic bliss whenever he can, but when she chose to marry someone else, Rafe walked away for good. Or so he thought. When fate thrusts Jane back into his life--complete with a baby on board--Rafe seizes the opportunity with both hands. He lost her once and never truly got her back, but he's determined to change their fate. He knows in his heart that with a little persuasion and a whole lot of cake, everything will be different this time around!
"Jane put the fork down and step away from the cake." Jane Melville glared over the top of her not-wedding cake, silently daring her almost-maid-of-honour to try something foolish—like pry the triple-layer coconut cake from her cold, spinsterly hands. The cake she'd worked on for the better part of two days. It was a freaking culinary masterpiece. And a colossal waste of fucking time. She shoved another forkful in her mouth then pointed the utensil at her best friend. "Back off, Bennett. It's my non-reception, and I'll pig out if I want to," she said around the fluffy, coconutty goodness dissolving on her tongue. "Besides, I'm eating for two." Abby tsked and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure gorging yourself on an entire wedding cake is exactly what the baby needs." If the stiffening of her best friend's shoulders wasn't enough to chastise her for such an insensitive comment, her quiet gasp and wide eyes were. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Abby said, smoothing the distraught look from her lovely face. But her words were stilted, her voice brittle as she absently smoothed her hand over her belly. Abby couldn't have kids, a point of contention that had contributed to her divorce several years before, and a constant source of heartache for the tender-hearted woman. Although Jane had to admit, Abby was dealing with it much better these days. Now she had someone in her life who loved her unconditionally. Abandoned by her appetite, Jane pushed the cake away. "I'm sorry, Abbs. I didn't mean it like that." Gracious as always, her friend laid a hand over hers and squeezed her fingers. "I know," she said, then grinned. "But I'm still taking the cake." Jane snorted, her lips twitching into a short-lived smirk. Watching as Abby removed the bride and groom from the top of the cake and hacked it to pieces, an air of detachment settled over her. It was no longer her wedding cake, just a pretty mess of flour and sugar and coconut cream. Still, the thought that the hundred or so guests milling about inside the town hall were about to shove it down their gullets made her sick. It was bad enough they were still out there eating her food and delighting in her misery, just waiting for her to make an appearance so they could look down their noses at her. Well, let them eat her not-wedding cake. The kitchen door swung open as the waitstaff came and went, their polished silver platters laden with food and drink, and every time it opened, snippets of murmured conversations drifted through the doorway. Jane strained to hear them but couldn't make out what was being said, which she conceded was probably for the best. The last thing she needed was to go postal because some old biddy couldn't keep her opinions to herself. Jane could already see the headline of tomorrow's daily news: Jane Melville stranded at the altar, pregnant and penniless. She figured that was probably better than Jane Melville burns town hall to the ground with wedding guests inside, teaching gossips a lesson they'll never forget. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she knew the stories would start sooner or later with the whys and the hows and the wherefores. In a town as small as Melville's Cross, good gossip was better than sex. Not that any of them would know good sex if it jumped up and spanked their arse. And while being the great-great-granddaughter of the town's founding father afforded her some protection from the poisonous clothesline prattle, she knew better than to hope it would shield her completely. Or for long.
Abigail Bennett has the worst taste in men. Her husband left her for another woman and her boyfriend was a liar and a cheat, so the last thing she wants is another relationship. Sex on the other hand—or her total lack of it—is an ongoing concern. But maybe Wolf can help? And not just in the bedroom. The annoyingly sexy, dominant author is exactly the type of man she needs to keep her ex-husband and his wandering hands at bay, but Wolf's help comes with a price, and while Abby is willing to take him into her bed, she's determined to keep him out of her heart.
Rafe Bennett's life has been one of responsibility and heartache. A long time ago, he was forced to give up the girl of his dreams, then made to bear the brunt of her anger for his trouble. In the years since, he has shared his bed with Jane Melville more times than he can count, snatching moments of erotic bliss whenever he can, but when she chose to marry someone else, Rafe walked away for good. Or so he thought. When fate thrusts Jane back into his life—complete with a baby on board—Rafe seizes the opportunity with both hands. He lost her once and never truly got her back, but he's determined to change their fate. He knows in his heart that with a little persuasion and a whole lot of cake, everything will be different this time around!
Tobias Bennett has always known he was different. His towering height and quiet nature aside, it's his need for control in and out of the bedroom that sets him apart from most men. While acting as wingman for his twin brother, he comes face-to-face with his new office manager, Lucy Barton. The wealth of scars trailing down the right side of her face and body intrigues him, but it's her guarded disposition that has him itching to teach her a lesson she'll never forget. One night in Lucy's arms has Toby craving so much more, but she's a no-strings-attached kind of woman. That's her number one rule. But Toby knows better than anyone, some rules are meant to be broken.
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Third Time Lucky
Abby struggled against Handsome's hold on her and glared up at him. "What the hell are you doing here? Go away!" She barely registered him kicking the front door shut before his mouth came crashing down, his lips hot and soft, moving over hers with such passionate ferocity that her anger melted into a gooey puddle at her feet. She didn't—couldn't—resist when his tongue slid along the seam of her lips, pressing for entry. Opening up, she let him inside, let him ravish her senses, and steal her sanity, proving the latter by wrapping her arms around his neck as he wrapped her legs around his hips and pushed her against the wall. She yelped as he squeezed her arse in his big hands, causing just enough pain to shutter her eyelids with pleasure. He rocked his hips into her, his toughened leather pants doing little to buffer the feel of his erection as it pushed between her thighs. Their eyes locked and Abby's mouth gaped, drowning in the ferocity of the lust reflected in Handsome's predatory gaze. "Still want me to go away?" he asked, his grin cocky, his voice a dark rumble in his chest. "Shut up," she said and surrendered herself to the moment. Tunnelling her fingers through his hair, she brought her mouth to his, moaned as she teased his lips apart with a flick of her tongue. She tasted him, tested him, until his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed himself forwards and took her mouth without further ado, crushing her lips under his. But the more he sought to control her, the more her brain fought to shut him out, to remind her of where she was, of who he was. He was a stranger, and it didn't matter how devastatingly erotic his kisses were. This was her home, her sanctuary. What right did this man have to barge in here and throw her world off-kilter? It seemed as if leaving him alone, naked and in the middle of nowhere was too subtle a gesture for this guy. How the hell did he find her? And what was it going to take to make him put her down and go away?
Jennie Kew writes contemporary slice-of-life erotic romance novels and contemporary and paranormal short erotic stories. Her books include The Bennett's Bastards Series and The Q Collection. When not sitting in front of her computer, Jennie can be found reading a book, watching a movie, or building Lego. She lives in regional New South Wales, a stone's throw from Australia's capital, Canberra, with her husband, her husband's magnificent beard, a teenage giant, and their feline overlord and editor-in-chief, Tallulah.
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