The first three books in the Wardham Series by NYT and USA Today bestselling author Zoe York, have been put together
into one delicious bundle!
Title: Welcome to
Wardham, The Wardham Series (Three book bundle)
Author: Zoe York
Age: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Buy Links: Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ Google Play ~ All Romance
Blurb
Welcome to Wardham, a sleepy village ready to explode with
new-found passion. This bundle contains the first three titles in The Wardham
Series by Zoe York.
Between
Then and Now
Their story didn’t start
with a fairytale romance. Their marriage wasn’t chosen for love. But they still
chose each other, time and again.
Romance is the last thing on Ian's mind. He's juggling the family farm and a second job, his kids are a crazy handful and every time he gets close to his wife, Carrie, she snaps at him. Their relationship has always had a sizzling physical connection, and he needs to find a way to leverage that into reconnecting on a deeper level before it’s too late.
Romance is the last thing on Ian's mind. He's juggling the family farm and a second job, his kids are a crazy handful and every time he gets close to his wife, Carrie, she snaps at him. Their relationship has always had a sizzling physical connection, and he needs to find a way to leverage that into reconnecting on a deeper level before it’s too late.
Excerpt
From
Between Then and Now
“I know what I’ve
got. I don’t
always show it, but I’m lucky to be your husband, Carrie
Nixon.”
“Best
mistake ever?” She meant the words to land lightly. It was a standing joke
between them, but all that had gone unsaid between them over the last few
months weighed the words down on her tongue, and her voice cracked.
“Don’t
do this, not tonight.” His features pinched together. He didn’t
let go of her hand, but the easy softness in his grip faded, replaced with a subtle
tension that told her it was an effort to keep touching her.
“I’m
not doing anything,” she whispered. Tears threatened, hot bubbles at the edge
of her vision.
“You’re
dragging old shit into a new argument. Shit I didn’t
even know was in your head. An argument I didn’t
even know we were having.”
“We’re
not!” Were they? Was it all one big fight that just ebbed like the tide? “I don’t
know why I said that.”
He
didn’t
answer. He didn’t
need to. She tentatively lifted her gaze to read his expression, but he didn’t
look over at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road ahead. A muscle twitched
along his jaw, and she squeezed his hand, willing him to turn and see her. See
that she wasn’t
mad. That she was just scared and strangely alone and not dealing with that
well.
“I don’t
think we were a mistake.”
“Damn straight.”
“But we weren’t
in love when we got married, Ian. That’s never going to be
something I forget.”
“Never
asked you to.”
“We just can’t
talk about it.”
“We
can talk about it, babe. But you can’t yell at me about
it.”
“I
didn’t
yell.”
“You
cried. That’s worse.”
“Didn’t
cry. No tears.”
“Sad
voice, choked up…sounded like crying. Carrie, that kills me, you know?” He
dragged a deep breath into his lungs. “I just wanted an evening without a
fight. Come on, let’s go in.”
With
a start, she realized they were home. “Wait—” She unbuckled her
seat belt and reached across the center console. “Slide your seat back.”
“Carrie,
I’m
not—”
“Give
me a chance to get the mood back, please?” She was grateful she’d
worn a skirt tonight. “Scoot back, and close your eyes.” He still hadn’t
moved, but at least he wasn’t getting out of the
truck. “I want to show you what I’ve got on under this
skirt.”
Thank
god for his healthy libido. A lecherous grin spread across his face as he
flicked his gaze to her hemline. “Please tell me the answer is nothing.” She
waited for his gaze to hit hers again before offering a slow nod. His already
smoldering interest caught a burst of oxygen from her answer, and while he slid
his seat back with his left hand, his right arm was hauling her into his lap. “We
gotta stop fighting, babe.”
“We weren’t
fighting,” she whispered.
“We
were doing something,” he muttered as he arranged her thighs on either side of
his, his thumbs pressing hard into soft flesh. “And it wasn’t
this.”
What Once Was Perfect (Book #1)
She shuttered her heart and walked away. Now he has a second
chance to get it right.
Kyle and Laney shared a perfect summer 12 years ago, and have
never moved past their breakup. Now she’s back for the holidays and they have a
chance to work out things out and move on with their lives. But moving on
doesn’t make sense when you’ve finally reconnected with the only person you’ve
ever truly loved.
Excerpt
From What Once Was Perfect
They sat like that for almost an hour. At one point, Kyle was convinced
that she had fallen asleep, but he didn’t want to risk losing the moment, and he couldn’t see her face without
shifting. Her head was tucked under his chin, and he didn’t mind, because her hair
smelled amazing, an intoxicating blend of honey and some kind of fruit. Thank
god her ass was perched high on his thigh and her legs were bent over his other
arm, because in the space beneath he had developed a brutal erection. He couldn’t remember ever being this
turned on by cuddling before, except maybe in those first few weeks of dating
when they were still working on rounding all the bases.
He
remembered every single day of that spring, the long string of her firsts:
Laney slowly peeling off her t-shirt in the barn, then crossing her arms
against her chest; her sliding across the bench in his truck, straddling him,
grinding her jean-clad pussy against his cock; getting completely naked in a
hotel room after the Science Society Formal Ball, wanting to punch a hole in
the wall after their only condom broke. Laney had made that night worthwhile
anyway, sliding his cock between their bodies, holding herself open, rubbing
against the length of him until they both shattered apart. They’d spent the night twisted up
in each other, and when Laney wrapped her warm little hand around him in the
shower the next morning, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He returned the
pleasure before check out, and two weeks later when he moved into his first
apartment, they had an entire box of condoms at the ready.
She
lifted her head and he was torn between wanting her to see where he had
wandered in his mind, and hoping she’d return to her original position so he could keep
smelling her hair like a pervert. He didn’t dare think that she might be wandering around
the same spots on memory lane, even when she pressed her forehead against his
chin, then rubbed up his face until her lips connected with his jaw. Kyle
stifled a groan and eased her legs down to the ground, freeing his arm to press
between their bodies.
“Laney,
sweetheart, that’s not a good idea.” It’s brilliant, asshole, shut
up. He could barely grind out the words. His body
was not on board with being noble.
“Probably
not.” She pressed against his hand, flat against her upper chest, stretching
her body to reconnect with his face, and the upper swell of her breast filled
his palm. This time the groan was louder. “Tell me to stop.”
“We’re going to regret this.” Freud
would have a field day with what was going in his head. Baser instincts were
definitely gaining traction.
“Probably.
Tell me to stop.” Her lips found the corner of his mouth, at an angle, and then
her face turned again and they were sharing the barest of open mouth kisses,
her bottom lip resting on his, pressing it down. Her eyes were wide, pupils
dark and full of want. He didn’t see any hesitation, only heat, and his resolve
slipped. One kiss. He let her breath slip into his mouth, hot and moist,
and he was lost, disoriented in a mixed fog of memories and unfulfilled
fantasies.
With
a slight jerk, his extended arm relaxed, allowing Laney to crawl back on his
lap, straddling his hips this time, and she looked down at his erection with a
smirk. “I knew you didn’t want me to stop.”
“Wanting
you to stop and knowing you should are two different things. Hell no, I don’t want you to stop.” He
dragged a ragged breath into his chest and ran his hands down the sides of her
body, squeezing her hips, tracing over her thighs and then up again, harder
this time, sliding his palms under her sweater and over the thin cotton tank
top hiding underneath. “But I don’t want you to hate me, either.”
“I’m not an innocent college
kid anymore, Kyle.” She wiggled her hips, trying to slide closer to the bulge
in his jeans. “I like sex. You make me think of sex. I’m all fired up from
fighting. Let’s go.”
It
should have been an ardour-dousing wakeup call, the casual offer of something
that was once so special to her, to them. The higher-thinking part of his brain
was protesting that something was wrong, that Laney couldn’t possibly want a booty
call, but all Kyle could focus on was the easy confidence that she had gained,
how she must have gained it, and his primal need to re-possess that which he
had lost took over. He could hear raspy need in his voice and he didn’t care. “Now it’s your turn to tell me to
stop, sweetheart.”
Where Their Hearts Collide (Book #2)
The girl next door meets the cop of her dreams at exactly the
wrong time.
Karen’s finally decided what she wants to do when she grows up. Too bad it’ll
mean leaving behind her new neighbour, who’s stirred up a different kind of
grown up feelings. But when he rebuffs her attempt to have a fling before she
leaves Wardham, Karen knows it’s for the best. A clean break, no messy
emotional entanglements. Too bad Paul’s right next door, and everywhere she
goes. And he makes a pretty convincing case for getting entangled.
The Wardham Series continues: pick up When They Weren’t Looking (Book #3),
available now, and look for Beyond Love and Hate, a Wardham novella coming in
June 2014.
Excerpt
From Where
Their Hearts Collide
“I need to
apologize for what happened when you met Susan.”
She
really didn’t
want to talk about that. Ever, but definitely not at that moment. “It’s fine.”
“It’s
not even a little bit fine.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve
missed you.”
Behind
her eyelids, hot pressure was building up. “Don’t,”
she whispered. “Just kiss me and let’s pretend, just
for this afternoon—”
“I don’t want to pretend, Karen.” His voice was low and
soothing, hypnotic. If she wasn’t careful, the
walls around her heart would crumble before she even noticed. “I…I want to
explain.”
“No!”
She gasped the word. “Please don’t.” She crawled
into his lap and pressed hungry, needy little kisses over his jaw and down his
neck as she reached for the buttons on his pressed shirt.
His
hands closed over hers and he tugged them into her lap. He choked out her name
and tipped his forehead to lean against her chin. “That’s
not a good idea.”
She
wanted to weep. It was the first thing that had felt right all day. Longer than
that. For weeks, she’d been hollow. He’d
given her a taste of being something special, and she wanted that again. She
didn’t
want nice words or kindness. She wanted what she’d
never had before. To be irresistible. She wanted to make him want her like she
wanted him.
But
she was in his lap. She could feel that he did. And even though she knew he
would stop her again, she rocked against his erection, and at his stifled
groan, she let the tears fall. It shouldn’t be this hard.
Zoe York lives in London, Ontario with her young
family. She has an English degree and works at a university, so it was probably
a foregone conclusion that she'd write a romance novel one day. She's currently
chugging Americanos, wiping sticky fingers, and plotting super-secret books
about heroes in and out of uniform.
www.zoeyork.com | Twitter
www.zoeyork.com | Twitter
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