Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Maria Luis’s new release: Love Me Tomorrow
Hi there! I’m so excited to be here to talk all things Owen & Savannah from Love Me Tomorrow. This book–this couple–has my heart, and I can’t wait to share them with you!
They call her America’s Sweetheart.
And me? I’m the so-called “inked god” she dumped on TV.
I’ve tried to forget her. I’ve tried to move on.
Until I discover that her family is opening a new restaurant next to my tattoo parlor.
If I were a gentleman, I’d offer my congratulations and go my own way.
If I were a gentleman, I’d let her be… but I’m not.
Savannah Rose may claim I’m nothing more than a friend, but that slight hitch in her breath whenever I get too close says that America’s sweetheart is nothing but a liar.
All it takes is one scorching kiss, and I vow in her ear: “You’re going to beg. Beg me to touch you, beg me to give you more, and if you’re real good, maybe I’ll do it all over again before you have to beg for that too.”
I’m no gentleman.
But Savannah Rose? She’s no one’s sweetheart but mine.
Love Me Tomorrow is the third book in the highly anticipated series, Put A Ring On It, and can be read as a complete standalone.
Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from Love Me Tomorrow
>> OWEN <<
Savannah’s shirt falls to the floor in a whisper of cotton hitting slate. She’s wearing nothing but a plain bra. No lace. No frills.
She’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
“Rose,” I rasp, somehow managing to find my voice, ragged though it is, “what’re you doing?”
Her hands land on my chest. “I’m taking what I want,” she says, pushing me backward. I dwarf her slender frame, easily, but it’s like she’s looped a collar around my neck, then cinched the bastard tight, because I follow her lead without objection.
Sidestepping the coffee table.
My ass landing on the brand-new couch.
The cushions sinking beneath the sudden onslaught of my weight, even while my focus is singularly centered on the woman in front of me. Gracefully, she takes a seat on the glass table. Legs spread, long, thick hair draping in front of her bra-covered breasts. Her bare toes dig into the plush rug, and yeah, mine are doing the same.
I don’t know where she’s going with this but I’m in.
“Thirty-five years of doing what people want of me,” she says now, her voice husky, her gaze locked on my face. “Go to Tulane, they told me. I went to Tulane. Work in restaurants, they said. I slaved away more hours bussing tables than I ever cared to.” She reaches behind her, and that plain bra of hers comes loose. The straps slip down her arms, until she’s holding the bra up by one finger. “Date the good boy,” she murmurs, her thumb idly gliding up the strap, “marry the good boy. No one ever said anything about loving the good boy. No one ever said anything about the good boy loving me. Not once.”
I swallow, tightly, my fingers digging into the sofa on either side of my hips. “Move your hair, sweetheart.” Give me a peek of those perfect tits of yours.
The bra lands on the floor. “Not yet.”
A frustrated groan barrels its way up my throat.
She’s going to kill me. Fucking destroy me.
Probably karma for the way I tested her limits yesterday. I deserve it—maybe—but that doesn’t mean I have to play fair. Tit for tat, and all that jazz.
Leaning forward, I grasp the fabric of my T-shirt by the nape, then hike it up and over my head. Toss it on the floor, on top of her discarded bra.
Savannah’s mouth falls open. “What are you doing?” she demands, a little breathless. That haughty heiress expression of hers is good, but not that good. Her gaze hungrily soaks me up, tracking the tattoos on my chest, my arms, the base of my throat, before dipping down to the waistband of my jeans. “Oh.”
I feel my mouth tug up into a smirk. “You’re oglin’.”
“You—you have a tattoo—”
Sinking back into the cushions, I splay a hand over the angel wings inked just above my belt buckle. They span from hip to hip, but instead of heavenly feathers, the wings are composed of bones. Skeletons. For every bit of beauty in the world, there’s always the darkness that follows. You either cave to it, or you crush it to the ground. I’ve spent a lifetime struggling to come out on top.
“You can lick it,” I drawl, feeling not the least bit remorseful about throwing her rebuttal back in her face, “but not yet.”
Excerpt. ©Maria Luis. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
Giveaway: I’m giving away a signed paperback of LOVE ME TOMORROW!
Open internationally. Thank you!
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Meet the Author:
Maria Luis is the author of the sexy contemporary romances.
Historian by day and romance novelist by night, Maria lives in New Orleans, and loves bringing the city’s cultural flair into her books. When Maria isn’t frantically typing with hot chocolate in hand, she can be found binging on reality TV, going on adventures with her other half and two pups, or plotting her next flirty romance.
Grab Love Me Tomorrow on Amazon/Kindle Unlimited!