LIFT 4 Autism Auction is LIVE!


1 in every 68 children is diagnosed with Autism. 1 in every 42 Boys

The LIFT Campaign is a charitable initiative rallying the romance reading community around Autism  Spectrum Disorder (ASD) families in April, Autism Awareness month. Experts estimate that many ASD families spend up to $60,000 out of pocket each year on medical and therapy expenses. This year we’re raising funds to assist families struggling to manage these staggering costs. All profits go to the family scholarship program of Talk About Curing Autism (TACA).

The online auction is LIVE! There are too many items from authors and bloggers up for bid to list here, but we have full signed collections from some of your favorite bestselling authors. We have non-book items like Kindle Paperwhite, Amazon Echo, VIP Tickets to the Mile High Denver author signing, and so many other goodies! So start bidding while doing good!


(Bidding closes Friday, 4/29/16!)

Even if  you don’t want to bid, you can still make a tax-deductible donation to the scholarship program through our efforts HERE!

Don’t miss a thing! Join the LIFT 2016 Facebook Group for bidding alerts and campaign information.

Wanna stylishly support the LIFT Campaign? Buy your LIFT T-shirt before it’s too late!

All profits benefit TACA!

LIFT 2016 Shirt collage


A special thank you from Lisa Ackerman,

Founder & Executive Director of Talk About Curing Autism (TACA).

Word of Mouth Giveaway!

Word of Mouth


I haven’t had great luck with Facebook Ads. Maybe for some authors, they make a tremendous difference. And blog tours are great for getting the word out about a book. But for me, the most effective way, my favorite way, to find and engage new readers has to be word of mouth. There is nothing better than hearing one reader say they heard about my books from someone who loved them so much they had to share.

Like this message from Shamika of Sticky Reads to her friend.

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Or this one. I stumbled across this Goodreads review from a new reader. In the comments, I saw she found me from Cristal’s recommendation. Cristal loved book 1 so much, she went on strike at 75% when she realized it was a cliffhanger. She wouldn’t finish until Down to My Soul released! I call it my fave DNF ever. :-)

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And one of my favorites? A reviewer, TeriLyn, reviewed my debut novel, When You Are Mine. She has read and reviewed every book I’ve written. At some point she started shouting about my writing. Next thing I know, her friend Jx Pink Lady is 6-starring My Soul to Keep, and barreling through my entire backlist. Then their friend Irene from The Literary Gossip reads and shouts. Then, bringing up the rear, I call Deanna PinkLady the “caboose” because she was the last of their little #BookwormCrew to read my books, and now she reads and shouts. Love these ladies.

My point is that readers trust other readers. So I’ve designed a giveaway for, not only those who review, but for those who rave, called “Word of Mouth: A Raving Readers Campaign.”

Here’s how it works:

  1. Post your review of My Soul to Keep and/or Down to My Soul on a retail site. (So if it’s only on Goodreads, just copy and paste it to Amazon or whatever retailer you use). ONLY THOSE WHO REVIEW ARE ELIGIBLE FOR ALL PRIZES.
  2. Tell a friend! If you loved the book, tell at least one person you think would enjoy it, too. Or if you’ve already told a friend(s), tell them about this giveaway so they can post their review, and maybe reward you for shouting.
  3. Let me know who told you! There is a space on the entry form asking if someone recommended the book(s) to you. If someone told you about the book, put their name there as a RAVER. I’ll draw winners from the REVIEW and RAVE columns. If you review, you have a chance to win. If you rave and your friends let me know, it increases your chances to win!

*Remember, ONLY those who link to their review in the form are eligible.

Here’s the FORM to enter! I’ll draw FOUR winners on Friday, May 6!

99¢ Sale – My Soul to Keep AND Down to My Soul!

two lovers over dark background


With Soul Series Book 2  Down to My Soul releasing Thursday (eeep!), I’ve put Book 1  My Soul to Keep on limited time sale! You can get both books for $2 this week only!

And to help spread the word, I’ve got a Sale Giveaway going on my Author Page.

Enter HERE for a chance at a $10 Amazon Gift Card and Reader’s Choice Prize (MSTK E-Book, DTMS ARC, or MSTK audio book!) just for helping me spread the word!

And if you haven’t read MSTK yet, or need a refresher before DTMS lands on your  kindle,


Monday, 3/28 – Thursday, 3/31

My Soul to Keep FOR WEB

 DTMS Cover_Small

99¢ iBooks Special Release Pre-Order

(It will be 99¢ on all platforms release day!)

Wanna know AS SOON AS Down to My Soul is LIVE?
Sign up HERE to be notified!

Down To My Soul Excerpt + Giveaway!

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If you have not read MY SOUL TO KEEP, read no further!

Go HERE to read the first three chapters!

If you HAVE read MSTK, keep reading for an extended excerpt from DOWN TO MY SOUL!

DTMS Cover_Small

Pre-Order DOWN TO MY SOUL on iBooks for Special Release Price – 99¢!

(It will be 99¢ on all platforms release day!)

Wanna know AS SOON AS Down to My Soul is LIVE?
Sign up HERE to be notified!

Scroll to the bottom of the excerpt to enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway!



She doesn’t wear my ring.
We never stood before a preacher.
The only vows exchanged were between our bodies; between our souls.
But she was mine and I was hers until I ruined it. I have to believe that every day, every step, every breath brings me closer to making things right.
To making her mine again.


I’ve seen promises broken.
I know love makes no guarantees.
But things were different for Rhys and me, until he lied, and I walked away. Only there’s a chain between our hearts that I can’t break. Even if I forgive him, a shadow from my past hangs over us; over this love that reaches all the way down to my soul.



We pull up to the venue, formerly a private estate that now hosts weddings and other events. The cream-colored limestone house with its circular steps and wide veranda welcome us as warmly as the wedding hostesses.

San hands the keys to his shiny new Tahoe over to the valet. Steady work at Spotted is paying off. We’ve both moved up fast in the world. He’s even in a new apartment downtown, where I’m crashing for my one week off tour. I’ll figure out living arrangements when I’m done in another month. Maybe by then, I’ll have  the whole Rhyson problem solved.

My problem is standing in the slab-stoned foyer where guests gather as they wait to be ushered into the backyard. Rhys wears a dark suit and a sky blue tie, eyes dark and intense and set on me, waiting for me. I could never forget the pewter eyes that barrel through my defenses, or the hair, dark but dappled with deep copper streaks, or the beautifully rugged symmetry of his features. I didn’t forget, but everything about him impacts me like it’s the first time, trapping the breath in my throat. Our eyes haven’t even met yet, and I already feel the tug of that chain. I was a fool to underestimate this pull. It’s only now that he’s within touching distance that I realize how foolish I was to think I could resist him.

He steps into my path so there’s no avoiding him, his eyes licking heat over my body in the periwinkle dress molding to my torso, clinging to my arms from shoulder to elbow, and belling out from my waist to stop just above my knees. For a moment, we just stare at one another, drinking in the details until I can’t take it another second and free my eyes from his, looking instead at the simple flats on my feet.

“Kai, hey.” He flicks a dismissive look at San by my side. “San.”

“Rhyson, good to see you.” San smirks, standing there when he knows good and doggone well Rhyson wants to talk to me alone. He just pokes Rhys sometimes to watch him jerk. Rhys levels an annoyed look at San.

“Dude, take a walk.”

San slides his glance to me, brows raised, silently asking me if it’s okay to leave.

“It’s fine.” I assure him with a smile. “I’ll catch up.”

San saunters off, finding someone I don’t know to chat with a few feet away, leaving Rhyson and me alone. The air charges with every breath we draw, both of us waiting for the other to speak. Rhyson finally goes first.

“I see you still have your guard dog.” He frowns over at San before returning his attention to me.

“We’ve been taking care of each other a long time.” I still don’t, can’t quite fully meet his eyes.

Whatever small talk I thought we might make disintegrates as soon as I brave a glance up at him. The space between our eyes, our bodies, pulses with tension and heat.

“Pep, you’ve got to stop looking at me like that,” Rhyson says, voice strung low and tight.

“Like what? I…”

He dips his head, looking up from beneath the dark brows in a way that tells me I know exactly how I’m looking at him. Like he’s a wall I want to scale and devour everything on the other side of. That’s how it feels, assaulting me without warning. The desire to reclaim, repossess him.

“You’re looking at me like you wanna get fucked in this foyer,” he answers softly.

His husky words set my cheeks on fire, and I lower my eyes so he won’t see just how accurate that statement is. Maybe a little time and distance dulled my memory of this connection that vibrates between us like a physical thing exploding onto my senses. Our passion sprinkles across my tongue. Our lust hovers like a torch just shy of my skin. Our love – an ultrasonic boom, out of frequency for everyone but the two of us.

“I-I guess I didn’t really think about how it would be seeing you again.” I glance up at him once I have my body set to simmer.

“And I haven’t been able to think of anything else.” His eyes never leave my face, and I can’t look away for the life of me. We’ve trapped each other, and less and less I want to wiggle free.



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Soul Series Landing Page

Both Books FREE in KU!

***Must read BOOK 1 first***

My Soul to Keep FOR WEB


It seems the things worth keeping are often the hardest to hold…


I had two things in life that mattered. My mother and my music.
Mama was taken from me too soon, and now music is all I have left. It’s the thing that’s pushed me right out of backwoods Georgia into Los Angeles, where the line between fantasy and reality shimmers and blurs. I’m finally making my way, making my mark. I can’t afford to fall for one of music’s brightest stars. Not now. Music is all I have left, and I’m holding on tight with both hands. I won’t let go, not even for Rhyson Gray.


I had one thing in my life that mattered – music. The only constant, it’s taken me to heights most people only dream about; a gift dropped in my lap at birth. I thought it was enough. I thought it was everything until I met Kai. Now she’s all I think about, like a song I can’t get out of my head. If I have to chase her, if I have to give up everything – I will. And once she’s mine, I won’t let go.

DTMS Cover_Small



She doesn’t wear my ring.
We never stood before a preacher.
The only vows exchanged were between our bodies; between our souls.
But she was mine and I was hers until I ruined it. I have to believe that every day, every step, every breath brings me closer to making things right.
To making her mine again.


I’ve seen promises broken.
I know love makes no guarantees.
But things were different for Rhys and me, until he lied, and I walked away. Only there’s a chain between our hearts that I can’t break. Even if I forgive him, a shadow from my past hangs over us; over this love that reaches all the way down to my soul.


Music Playlist

My Soul to Keep


Down to My Soul



Cover Reveal + Giveaway: Kennedy Ryan’s DOWN TO MY SOUL

Cover Reveal Banner DTMS


We are so pleased to bring you the cover for DOWN TO MY SOUL,

the much-anticipated sequel to MY SOUL TO KEEP!

Pre-Order DOWN TO MY SOUL on iBooks for Special Release Price – 99¢!


Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00074]




She doesn’t wear my ring. We never stood before a preacher. The only vows exchanged were between our bodies; between our souls. But she was mine and I was hers until I ruined it. I have to believe that every day, every step, every breath brings me closer to making things right.  To making her mine again.


I’ve seen promises broken.  I know love makes no guarantees. But things were different for Rhys and me, until he lied, and I walked away. Only there’s a chain between our hearts that I can’t break. Even if I forgive him, a shadow from my past hangs over us; over this love that reaches all the way down to my soul.


Click here to be notified AS SOON as DTMS is live on all platforms!

Add DOWN TO MY SOUL TO Goodreads




Make sure to read Book 1, MY SOUL TO KEEP, first!

Available for the First time EVER on all platforms!

Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo

Read the first THREE Chapters Free!


My Soul to Keep FOR WEB




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About Kennedy Ryan


I just can’t write about myself in third person for one more bio! I’m a wife, a mom, a writer, an advocate for families living with autism. That’s me in a nutshell. Crack the nut, and you’ll find a Southern girl gone Southern California who loves pizza and Diet Coke, and wishes she got to watch a lot more television. You can usually catch me up too late, on social media too much, or FINALLY putting a dent in my ever-growing To Be Read list! I love to hear from readers at


Let’s Connect!



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The First DOWN TO MY SOUL Teaser And V-Day Giveaway!

Old Style Music Background


Happy Valentine’s Day!!!

To celebrate, I’ve got a giveaway going on my author page. Up for grabs – a $10 Amazon Gift Card and a DOWN TO MY SOUL ARC (once they’re available mid-March) or MY SOUL TO KEEP e-book, if you haven’t read book 1 yet!

Enter HERE!

Add DOWN TO MY SOUL on Goodreads here!

Grab Book 1, MY SOUL TO KEEP, so you can be ready for the March 31 Release!!


Read FREE on KU!

My Soul to Keep FOR WEB







Deleted/Alternative WHEN YOU ARE MINE Scenes

With so many readers finding the Bennett series for the first time with the release of book 4, UNTIL I’M YOURS, it has made me revisit the first books I ever wrote. So many things have changed. Now I write mostly in first person than in third. I think my books are a lot steamier now. But I think my voice is still the same, which as a writer you have to discover and fight to maintain.

Anyhoooo…I thought I’d resurrect a couple of alternative and deleted scenes.

I shared a prologue from Kerris’ childhood before. It can be found HERE.

Below is ONLY FOR THOSE WHO HAVE READ When You Are Mine!!! It is Cam’s last visit with Kris at the hospital, right before he runs into Walsh as he’s leaving. It is unedited, so excuse any errors! It never made it to the light of day b/c the book was exclusively Walsh & Kerris’ point of view.

Hope you enjoy! :-)



Cam slipped into Ms. Kris’s hospital room. He’d meant to come on his lunch break, but things had gotten hectic at the office. Now it was after five o’clock, and he probably wouldn’t have much time before Walsh showed up. He stopped just inside, shocked at how small and drawn she looked against the sterile white hospital sheets. Pain wrapped around his heart like a stubborn vine, squeezing out what little peace he’d had.

He remembered what life had been like before he’d met this incredible woman. The memory of that life haunted him, sometimes dogging him into his sleep, nightmare and memory inextricably woven.

Cam noticed for the first time the simple Christmas decorations someone, probably Jo, had put up. A small tree on the bedside table. A few white lights suspended over Ms. Kris’s hospital bed. A large poinsettia in the corner. The festive touches couldn’t dispel the sense of inevitability hovering in the room like an unwanted visitor.

Cam sat down and pulled out his sketchpad. He hated to see her this way; her light dimmed and, based on the news Kerris had broken to him about hospice, soon to be extinguished. He settled himself at the foot of her bed, careful not to disturb her. He propped the sketchpad on his knees, filling the blank page with the picture his mind’s eye stored of her at her most glorious. Her dark hair spilling around her shoulders, and the lovely skin pulled with taut vitality over the regal bones of her face. Her wide mouth spread into an infectious grin. She stirred, stilling his charcoal pencil and drawing his attention.

“Hi, beautiful.” He tossed the pad to the floor and crawled up to her end of the bed, lying down on top of the covers in her outstretched arms.

He closed his eyes, burrowing his nose into her neck, searching for her smell. Beneath the stench of illness, antiseptic and approaching death, it was still there. He inhaled, content to be held right here as his mother had never held him. Kristeene taught him what a mother should be, and though she’d always called him her second son, he never believed it. Been afraid or unable to accept it. When you have a son like Walsh Bennett, why would you want a worthless piece of shit like him? He’d never envied Walsh’s money or the compounded power that came with the Walsh and Bennett names. He’d envied this, though. He’d secretly coveted this goddess who had given birth to Walsh.

Entitled bastard had everything, had this, handed to him as an accident of birth, and now he wanted his wife.

“Kerris came to see me today,” Kristeene whispered, making Cam wonder if he’d fumed so much he had spoken aloud, or if Kisteene’s maternal clairvoyance kicked in as it had so many times before.

“She told me.”

“She’s so special, Cam.” Ms. Kris ran her hand over the almost shoulder length dark hair he’d left hanging loosely around his neck today.

“Yep.” Cam leaned into the gentle stroke like he had since he was thirteen years old.

“Did she tell you I’m going home tomorrow?” Ms. Kris fixed her gaze on the emotion he knew must be soaking his eyes.

“Ms. Kris, I can’t-I don’t know what I’ll do if you…”

“There’s no ‘if’, baby.” A trembling, skeletal hand traced the arch of his brows. “It’s gonna happen. This is my last Christmas. I’m dying.”

And inside of him, something was dying, too. Something that, early on, had been whipped into a mass of self-contempt, shame and rage, huddled in a corner when he’d first met this woman. It had healed and come to life under her compassion, love and acceptance. Cam was afraid it would die with her.

“I have a peace about it,” Kristeene said.

I don’t!

The denial rattled like a bell in his brain and shook his heart, but he wasn’t going to lay his shit on her; the fact that he couldn’t deal with a death she already seemed resigned to.

“How can you have peace about death?” His voice sounded hushed and solemn in his own ears.

“I believe in an afterlife, Cam. In Heaven, and I believe that’s where I’ll be. And I know that I’m leaving this earth with a clear heart. I didn’t do everything I wanted, but I did a lot. I paid attention to the things that were most important.”

She allowed a small silence to bathe them in contemplation before adding, “And I’ve forgiven.”

Cam stiffened, turning his head to consider her with narrowed eyes. Even sick and near death, she was cagey. There was no way Jo hadn’t told her something about what happened with Kerris and Walsh. She would have been curious about why they were never together when they visited; why they avoided each other like hand, foot and mouth disease.

“Forgiveness isn’t always an option, Ms. Kris.” He broke the words up into bite-size pieces in his mouth.

“When it’s your time, not forgiving isn’t an option. You only ask yourself why. Why would I hang onto that?’”

“I know exactly what I’m holding onto and why.” Cam slipped off the bed, scooping up his sketchpad and thrusting it under his arm, his movements jerky.

“You’ll have to forgive Walsh, Cam.” Kristeene’s breath hitched with the effort it took to pull herself up on her elbows.

“You don’t know what he’s done.” Cam glared at his Chuck Taylors, the black and white blurring with the rage wetting his eyes.

“He kissed Kerris,” Kristeene said, her voice heavy with sympathy.

Cam returned her steady gaze.

“And you think I should forgive him?”

“I think you have to. He and Jo are all the family you’ve got.”

“No, I’ve got Kerris.” Cam knifed the air with one long, slim hand. “And no one, not even your perfect son, will take her away from me.”

“Did you marry her even suspecting a little bit that there were feelings between them?” Kristeene probed and poked around the thing Cam had barely admitted to himself.

Cam glanced at Kristeene, a battered angel, earthbound and more vulnerable, but more fierce, than he’d ever seen her.

“You think I have cancer,” she said. “You just keep holding onto unforgiveness. It’ll eat away at you from the inside. It’ll spread to everything good in your life and destroy it. Including your marriage.”

“He shouldn’t have kissed her.” The lean lines of his body petrified into stone with no outlet for his hostility. “He had no right.”

“No, he had no right. He was wrong, and I’m sure if they could take it back, they would. But they can’t, Cam. And you can let that one moment haunt and destroy your marriage and cost you the best friend you’ve ever had, or you can let it go and move on. Knowing they won’t hurt you like that again. Knowing it was a mistake.”

“I’m not ready for that.” His fingers clawed into twitchy balls at his side, aching to squeeze Walsh’s throat. “I keep seeing them together in my head, and I can’t stand to look at him.”

“You don’t hold her responsible at all?” Kristeene raised the skin where her eyebrows used to rest before radiation left it smooth and naked like a baby’s.

“I know Kerris and I know Walsh. I know who made the first move; who initiated this. He’s been in love—” he cut himself off, turning away to face the window.

“So you did know.”

“I’d have to be blind not to know he felt something for her. At first I assumed he just wanted to screw her like most guys, but then I realized it was more than that.”

“More like what you felt for her?” Kristeene pressed. “And you were afraid, if given time, she’d choose him?”

“Who wouldn’t choose him?” Cam pressed his forehead against the coolness of the window glass. “He could have anyone. She was for me. You know? And I had to lock that down.”

“Seems like an honest conversation would have saved us all a lot of trouble.” Kristeene slurred her words behind him. “But since that didn’t happen, we are where we are. We can’t stay here, Cam.”

“I don’t know where else to go.” Cam laid his clutched fist against the window pane. “I can’t give her up, but I can’t forget. And I can’t forgive Walsh, but I feel like somebody cut my right hand off.”

Met with silence, Cam turned to watch Kristeene, who had dropped off practically mid-sentence into a drug-induced slumber. Had he tired her out? What would he do when she wasn’t around to talk him off ledges?


He leaned over her now-still form. He noticed goose bumps on her thin arms and tucked the sheets around her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed the silk scarf covering her slick scalp. “Mom.”

He’d only dared to imagine calling her that, even though she called him son. The sweet rush of feeling almost brought him to his knees by her bed in a weeping, snotty, begging, incoherent pool of grief. He tightened his mouth, staving it off for now, though he saw it coming like a tsunami, and him its helpless shore.

Cam left Kristeene’s room, running his hands over his face in a quick, impatient motion. He bushed away the last of his tears. He glanced at his watch, surprised to see he’d been with Kristeene for more than an hour. He pulled up short on his way to the elevator. Walsh was headed toward him, tall and lean in his gray suit, a preoccupied frown darkening his expression. Cam was prepared to walk right past him, refusing to entertain Kristeene’s admonition to forgive.

I ain’t forgiving shit.

Walsh had other ideas, stepping directly into Cam’s path.

“How was she?” Walsh bypassed the small talk.

“Resting.” Cam addressed his response to some point over Walsh’s shoulder. He tried to step around Walsh, only to find him blocking his way again.

“Step the hell back, Bennett.” Cam spiked the glare he gave Walsh.

“We have to talk about this,” Walsh said, obviously unafraid of Cam’s malevolent regard, unfazed by the barely checked threat clearly written in his fighter’s stance.

“What should we talk about, Walsh? The fact that you want to fuck my wife?” Cam’s voice was a low blow.

“It was a mistake.” Walsh made a quick sweep of their surroundings, looking at the few people waiting in the reception area. “We got emotional talking about Haiti. She was comforting me and it just went there. It won’t happen again.”

“You won’t get the chance again. What part of staying out of our life don’t you understand?”

“The part where you and I aren’t brothers anymore,” Walsh snapped back, fire in his eyes and words. “Dude, you’re not going to throw away years of friendship over one kiss.”

“One kiss. You think I was born yesterday.”

“What?” Cam saw caution creep into Walsh’s eyes.

Cam leaned forward, all aggressive, outraged male. Teeth bared.

“You love her.”

Walsh looked back at him, weariness in every line of his face; written in his eyes. And Cam could see that he was tired of the lies; tired of denying what was in his heart.

“Yeah, I love her,” Walsh said. “But we can figure this out. I’d never do anything about it.”

“Asshole.” Cam brushed past him and prowled toward the elevators. “You already did.”


UNTIL I’M YOURS makes iBooks Best 25 + featured in USA Today


Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play


The world knows her face . . .

Mean girl. Goddess. Bitch. Supermodel Sofie Baston has earned those labels . . . yet they don’t scratch the surface of who she really is. Before she can follow her own dreams, Sophie must do her daughterly duty and reel in a “fish” for her father’s business-a tall, brown-eyed entrepreneur who immediately hooks her. He’s a big guy with an even bigger heart . . . but will that heart be open to Sofie once her darkest secret is revealed?

. . . but only one man knows her heart

To Trevor Bishop, Sofie is a beautiful mystery he would gladly spend his life solving. He figures her tough demeanor is armor against a world that’s hurt her too many times. Then Sofie’s deepest wounds are reopened by the powerful, ruthless man who made them. When she musters the courage to take him down, her world shatters. Now Trevor is determined to help Sofie pick up the pieces so they can build a future together. The challenge will be convincing his ice princess that it’s safe to melt in his arms . . .


UNTIL I’M YOURS released this week, and I’ve loved seeing readers meet Sofie and Trevor. And fall in love with them! I was nervous about Sofie’s story since she was much-hated from previous books in the series, but I think we really pull back the curtain and see what motivates her. The book is being so well received, iBooks even selected it as one of their Best 25 Books of February.

iBooks 25

Wow! I’m amazed and honored and humbled.

One of the things I hear readers responding to is the complex storyline touching on some sensitive topics like rape and Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). I wrote a piece for USA Today/HEA about the role FGM played in the courageous, character-building steps Sofie takes in her journey! You can read the piece HERE.

UNTIL I’M YOURS can be read as a standalone, but if you want to catch up on the previous books in the series, here ya go!


Previous Books in the Bennett Series

When You Are Mine

AmazonAmazon UK | B&N | Kobo | iTunes | Google Play  |  Goodreads



Amazon | Amazon UK | B&N | iTunes | Google Play | Kobo | Goodreads



Amazon | Amazon UK | B&N | iTunes | Google Play | Kobo | Goodreads







Goodreads | Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play 

Excerpt #1 – The first night Sofie Baston and Trevor Bishop meet!

Why am I seeking out Sofie? What is this about? So she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen in real life. Looks count for something with me like most men, but not for everything, and from what I’ve heard, she probably doesn’t have much else to offer. But there’s this gulf between what I’ve heard and the woman I met tonight. Maybe the gulf is filled with my preconceived notions.

I see her slumped against the wall as soon as I round the corner, shoes kicked off and wiggling her bare toes. Even witnessing her posture less than perfectly straight, perfectly erect feels like a violation of her privacy. She looks up, squinting into the semi-dark passageway. I can see her much better than she can see me.

“Rip?” She straightens from the wall, her expression becoming annoyed when she realizes it’s not the quarterback. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How many more people have to come through here? What is this? A parade?”

“Oh, I’m sorry for stumbling into your private boudoir.” I lean one shoulder against the wall beside her, stepping close enough to smell the fresh scent she’s been tantalizing me with all night. “I thought these were public bathrooms.”

She holds my gaze in the dim light for a few seconds, not even blinking. Then her lips twitch and spread over the smile people pay to see. From a billboard, that smile hits you like a gut punch. This close, the impact is practically atomic.

“Boudoir?” A husky chuckle suffuses the space separating us. “Did you seriously just break out ‘boudoir’?”

She props her butt against the wall and bends at the waist, slipping on one shoe and then the other. Even the high arch of this woman’s foot is sexy. Every detail I uncover makes me want to go deeper until I’ve discovered them all.

“I like a woman who can laugh at herself.”

My eyes follow the impossibly long line of her legs over the subtle curve of her hips and the surprising lushness of her breasts until I finally reach her waiting gaze, which asks if I’ve looked my fill.

“I wasn’t laughing at myself.” She grins again and inclines her head toward me. “I was laughing at you.”

“I’ll settle for that. Long as you’re laughing.”

She’s not anymore, the humor falling away as quickly as it came. She looks back down the passageway, sleek brows knitting together.

“Did Walsh tell Rip to come?”

“Rip saw a college buddy and stepped away. I’m sure he’ll be down as soon as he gets back to the table and they tell him you’re ready to leave.”

She moves over to a padded leather bench against the opposite wall, seating herself and crossing one leg over the other. She shifts her eyes from me to the men’s room and back again.

“I thought you needed that public restroom.” She gives a regal nod of her head toward the bathroom. “It’s right there.”

“I don’t actually have to use the bathroom.”

I leave it there, waiting for her to ask the obvious question, but I get the feeling Sofie Baston never does the obvious. She leans her back into the wall and narrows her eyes, waiting for me to go on.

“I came to find you.”

She tilts her head and raises both brows, conducting a wordless conversation using only her patrician features.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She nods, confirming that I still haven’t earned words yet.

“Why are you with Rip?”

She sinks deeper into the wall, sliding a few inches down and stretching her legs in front of her to cross them at the ankles

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she finally asks. “Haven’t you read the papers? We’re the perfect couple.”

“He bores you out of your mind.”

“No, he fucks me out of my mind.”

If she was going for shock value, that did it. Only our eyes lock and I realize she’s not trying to shock me. She’s just telling the truth. Her gaze is frank and honest.

“That’s all you want in a relationship?” I hazard a step closer before dropping to the other end of her bench and leaning my back against her wall.

That husky laugh permeates the air in the passageway again.

“Look, Dr. Phil, I’m not one of those sweet girls looking for some man to sweep me off my feet and put a ring on it.” She crosses both arms over her flat stomach, a cynical twist corrupting the beautiful curve of her mouth. “At least not anymore.”

“Kissed too many frogs?”

“Make no mistake about it. Those frogs and I did more than kiss.” Her smile exudes a sexual confidence I’m unused to from the women in my circles, but that I find by the second I more than like. “It’s not so much that I can’t find my prince, as that I’m no princess.”



Excerpt #2 – Hot in the Kitchen!

As soon as I step into my apartment, I know something’s off. The air feels charged somehow, not like the desolate box I left this morning that only I’ve been inside of for the last few days. And the smell permeating the apartment – heavenly. I would assume I’d left something in the oven, except I don’t cook – ever. Should I call what’s his name back?

Fool that I am, instead of fleeing the scene of a potential homicide – my own – I walk as quietly as I can down the hall toward the kitchen. It’s bright in there for an ax murderer, and most psychopaths in my limited experience don’t hum Benny And the Jets while sautéing dinner. As soon as I enter the kitchen, a well-muscled back and broad shoulders block whatever is cooking on the stovetop. Even though my potential perpetrator faces away from me, I’d know that burnished hair, the wide, hard slope of those shoulders, andthat ass anywhere.

“Bishop?” I’m scared to say his name aloud in case he’s some fevered hallucination the sound of my voice would dispel.

But he turns, a wide smile on those full lips, and opens his arms for me. That’s the only invitation I need. I drop my purse and am across the kitchen practically before it hits the floor. His arms are the sanctuary I’ve needed. Standing here in this circle of comfort, completely enclosed by his scent and his warmth, I feel safe for the first time since he boarded that plane last week.

“You’re here.” I whisper into his neck. “I thought…you aren’t due back for another few days.”

“This is true.” The deep timber of his voice rolls through me like a tremor. He pulls back to cup my face in his hands, and search my eyes. “I wrapped things up early.”

Whatever. Couldn’t care less. He could tell me South Africa floated into the wild blue yonder and he paddled all the way to New York on a piece of driftwood. I wouldn’t ask any questions. All that matters is that he’s here. My fingers wind into his hair, pulling him down and close enough to kiss. We skip slow, sweet kisses and cannon straight to desperate, our groans and panting the only sounds in the kitchen while we devour each other. I can’t stretch my mouth wide enough. Can’t touch enough of him at one time. I need more hands, more nerve endings to absorb this thrill, these sensations.

Trevor hoists me up, and my legs wrap around his waist. He reaches behind him to turn off the food and walks down the hall and toward my bedroom. It’s too far. I can’t wait. I’m too empty. I need him to fill me right here, right now.

“Now, Bishop,” I say against his lips. “Fuck me against the wall. I want…please. Right now.”

Wordlessly, he turns me against the wall. I lock my legs around him tighter while he undoes his belt buckle. The sound of his zipper sliding open has me dripping, has my chest heaving with anticipation. He leans in, taking my mouth captive and then sliding his tongue down my neck.

“Your breasts,” he mutters into the silk collar of my blouse “I want to see them.”

I brace one hand against his shoulder while the other scrambles to loosen the buttons on my blouse, baring the almost transparent bra. My nipples are so swollen from the thought of him, they press painfully against the sheer cups. I tug one satiny shell down to expose my breast. His eyes eat at my naked skin, and his hands slip beneath my arms, lifting me until my breasts are right at his mouth. His lips take my nipple, suckling me, the sound wet and erotic in the silent apartment. Every pull and tug churns the want in my belly, from my core, through my heart until every part of me is electrified with need.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” His words singe the delicate skin around my nipple.

I nod my head frantically, so hollow, so aching and empty waiting for him.

He pulls away to look at me, desire zip lining between our eyes.

“Check and make sure.” He glances at the space where our bodies interlock, the juncture of my thighs, and then raises his stare back up to sear me.

My eyes never leaving his, I slide my hand beneath my skirt and into my panties, rubbing my fingers into the wet flesh there.

“Show me,” he says, eyes almost black, his voice a husky rasp.