by Julie Kenner
One-Click Buy: July 2009 Harlequin Blaze
Endless Summer
Hard To Resist
Make Me Yours
Twin Seduction
The Soldier
The Mighty Quinns: Teague
Contents
Endless Summer
About the Authors
Making Waves
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Surf’s Up
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Wet and Wild
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Hard to Resist
Letter to Reader
About the Author
Books by Samantha Hunter
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Make Me Yours
Letter to Reader
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author’s Note
Twin Seduction
Praise for Cara Summers
Letter to Reader
About the Author
Books by Cara Summers
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
The Soldier
Letter to Reader
About the Author
Books by Rhonda Nelson
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
The Mighty Quinns: Teague
Letter to Reader
About the Author
Books by Kate Hoffmann
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Julie Kenner, Karen Anders, Jill Monroe
ENDLESS SUMMER
Look what people are saying about these talented authors
Julie Kenner
“Julie Kenner’s characters and their sexual
adventures will win your heart.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on Silent Desires
“Kenner’s steamy tale of excitement and erotica
provides immense satisfaction.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on
Silent Confessions
Karen Anders
“Karen Anders brings stimulating characters
to life with scrumptious scenes.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Author Karen Anders certainly knows
how to grab a reader’s attention.”
—The Best Reviews
Jill Monroe
“Hotter than a day at the beach!”
—USA TODAY bestselling author
Jennifer Armintrout on “Wet and Wild”
“Sizzling-hot sex, compelling characters, humor
and a dual plot make Primal Instincts,
by Jill Monroe, a book you can’t put down.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
(Reviewers’ Choice nominee)
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
National bestselling author Julie Kenner spent four years mainlining venti nonfat lattes in order to write, practice law full-time and take care of her kiddo. Then she wised up, quit the practice of law and settled down to write full-time. Her books have won numerous awards and hit bestseller lists as varied as USA TODAY, Locus magazine, Waldenbooks and Barnes & Noble. Visit Julie on the Web at www.juliekenner.com.
Karen Anders is a three-time National Readers’ Choice Award finalist, Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewers’ Choice finalist and has won the prestigious Holt Medallion. Karen is proud of her two daughters—one is already out in the world and the other is attending college. Although she misses the beautiful mountains of her home state of Vermont, Karen moved to northern Virginia is 1981 and then to Raleigh, North Carolina, in 2006. To contact the author, please write to her in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, or visit www.karenanders.com.
Jill Monroe makes her home in Oklahoma with her family. When not writing, she spends way too much time on the Internet completing “research” or updating her blog. Even when writing, she’s thinking of ways to avoid cooking. Lately Jill has happily put to use her degree in journalism with Author Talk—Where Authors Talk To Other Authors. Along with her dear friend Gena Showalter, she interviews writers, asking the questions no one else does. View these spoof interviews at www.authortalk.tv.
MAKING WAVES
Julie Kenner
For Isabella
1
LACI MONTGOMERY collapsed on the sand, her entire body tingling from exertion and excitement.
She’d just ridden in on one beauty of a wave, a killer bombora that had fought her all the way in, determined to trip her up and pull her under. She’d conquered it, though, and her victory was a beauty.
“Damn,” Drea said, running up the beach with Laci’s video camera in her hand. “Too bad the competition hasn’t started. You would have earned some serious points on that ride.”
“Enough to beat you,” Laci retorted, biting back a smile.
“True enough,” Drea said. “Good thing the competition hasn’t started.”
“Enjoy your status while you can, rookie,” Laci said, continuing the good-natured ribbing, “because I am going to totally blow you out of the water when the competition gets going.”
“Smile when
you say that,” Drea said, aiming the camera at Laci. Laci obliged with a wide grin, then stuck her tongue out at her friend. The teasing was all in fun, and Drea knew that Laci was only playing. Well, mostly only playing. The truth was that Andrea Powell, Laci’s friend and roommate, was the hot new thing on the female surfing circuit, the rookie of the year who was usually the subject of the cameras. Laci and Drea had only known each other a few weeks, but they’d bonded fast, and Laci genuinely wished Drea all the best. Well, mostly the best. Because if Laci had her way, Drea was about to be seriously out-classed by the new girl in town: Laci Montgomery, this year’s wild-card entry in the Girls Go Banzai surfing competition.
“You’re going down, girlfriend,” she said, but with a smile.
“Am I?” Drea said as she pointed toward the surf. “Or are we both going to get our asses seriously kicked?”
Drea’s finger was aimed right at JC Wilcox, a world-class surfer with the trophies to prove it. Laci would have had to hate her if JC wasn’t such a great friend. She contented herself with being annoyed at JC’s habit of leaving her towel draped over the curtain rod in the one-bathroom bungalow the three of them were sharing until after the competition.
“She’s looking really good,” Laci said with mixed envy and pride. She and JC had been friends for over a year, and during that time, Laci had learned a lot about JC. Mostly, she knew that the Hawaiian-born beauty was one hell of a surfer, and she deserved all her accolades and honors, but right then, JC had what Laci coveted: an actual corporate sponsor.
She sighed, telling herself it was the steady income of a sponsorship that she wanted. However, that wasn’t entirely true. She could always find a way to make money, JC’s trophies and sponsorships meant more than a paycheck. They meant that JC had earned her place in surfing.
And so far—although Laci had busted her tail and had some solid accolades and competitions under her belt—Laci still didn’t have the holy grail. She still didn’t have validation. And so help her, she craved it.
“You okay?” Drea’s head was cocked, examining Laci’s face.
“I’m fine.” In fact, she wasn’t. She was desperate for a win; desperate to prove herself here at Banzai. And that fierceness in her left a guilty hole in her stomach. But she couldn’t help it—she wanted to win. Wanted it and needed it.
More than that, she was certain that Drea and JC wanted it, too. But that was the kind of thing the girls didn’t talk about unless they disguised it as joking. Sure, they were friends. But hanging out on the beach and discussing their pasts and their boyfriends and their surfboard wax was one thing. Copping to the hope of unseating both of her friends and taking a world-class championship? Well, that was an unspoken given, with unspoken being the key operating word.
Tease about it, yes.
Seriously state out loud that you want to beat your friend? Just not done.
But Laci wanted it. Oh, yeah. She wanted it bad.
“You don’t look fine,” Drea said. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Laci admitted. “I’m still in a bit of shock, I think. I mean, I’m in Hawaii, competing in one of the hottest competitions on the planet. I’ve seen my picture on the Internet and in the local paper, and when we go into the bars and diners, the wait-staff actually knows my name. It’s—”
“A trip,” Drea said.
“Disconcerting,” Laci countered. More than that, all this unanticipated press was exactly the reason she was so anxious to prove herself. She was the wild card in this competition—here because she was plucked out of the pile of all the potential surfers by XtremeSportNet, the corporation that was hosting and sponsoring the Girls Go Banzai competition here in Hawaii.
Most of the competitors had arrived at the competition through what Laci thought of as the usual route. In other words, they had entered a less prestigious, more locally oriented contest that fed into a bigger contest that fed into a bigger contest, until finally the top-ranking surfers in a dozen or so competitions were eligible to compete at Banzai.
In contrast, Laci hadn’t played the competition circuit. Instead, she’d been invited by the sponsor—XtremeSportNet—to compete at Banzai as a wild card, which traditionally meant that the sponsor had seen the surfer at exhibitions or other competitions, had liked what they saw, and thought the wild card would be an asset to the overall competition.
She scowled, thinking of all the possible ways a sponsor might consider a surfer an asset. Media appeal, for example. But Laci was interested in none of that, and now that she was here, she figured it was her job to prove to everyone that she was picked because of her skill and only her skill.
Drea’s eyebrows rose. “What’s eating you?”
“Let’s just say I don’t get it,” Laci said. “It’s not like I’ve won anything yet, so what’s the big deal? All this attention. It feels like I’m getting something for nothing.” And that scenario grated on Laci. Always had. Always would. “I didn’t even go through the trials.” She’d been in Australia tending to her little sister after a car accident. The accident had been minor, but Laci had practically raised Millie, and not even the trials for Girls Go Banzai was going to keep her from Millie’s side.
“Big deal. It wasn’t like you’ve been blowing off surfing or losing your edge. You’ve been doing exhibitions and contests nonstop for the last fourteen months. Ever since you backed out of San Clemente.”
Laci licked her lips. That one stung.
Drea glanced at her sideways. “So I’m thinking that you’ve got something to prove.”
“Maybe,” Laci admitted.
Drea studied her, then nodded. “Well, obviously it worked. They only bring in girls who deserve it as wild cards, and that would be you.”
“Deserve it,” Laci repeated, her mind drifting back to San Clemente, a highly touted but very new addition to the competition circuit run by one of XtremeSportNet’s competitors. She’d been brought in as a wild card there, too, and she’d been foolishly, stupidly giddy about it. At least she had until she heard the rumors that she’d slept her way into the competition, trading sex for a slot. And no matter how much she denied them, the insinuations wouldn’t go away. Why would they, when her then-boyfriend was Taylor Dutton, the man who’d been in charge of promoting that competition?
He’d denied it, of course, but considering that the media was already all over the story and her reputation was shot, nothing he said made a whit of difference.
The trouble, of course, was that she’d trusted him. No, more than that; she’d loved him. They’d been dating on and off for two months, and they’d fallen into a pattern of easy familiarity that had tingled around the edges. Simply sitting next to each other at a table eating breakfast cereal had moved her, and he could turn her to mush with a soft brush of his thumb against her cheek as easily as with a deeply passionate embrace and a slow slide into bed.
She’d loved him and she’d trusted him, and because she had, the hurt had gone that much deeper when the media broke the big story that he’d pulled the strings to get her into the competition as a coveted wild-card contender. Not because she deserved it, which she did, thank you very much, but because she’d been sleeping with him.
She’d wanted to dump him in a flurry of curses and flying pieces of furniture, but instead she’d dumped him with a quiet fury she liked to think was elegant and controlled. Then she’d scurried away to lick her wounds and tell herself that if she never saw Taylor Dutton again, it would be too soon.
For a few weeks there, she’d even considered leaving surfing behind, but then JC had kicked her butt and told her to get out there on the circuit and prove that Laci didn’t have to sleep her way to a trophy or a world ranking—she could surf her way there just fine.
As surfing competitions went, San Clemente wasn’t yet a blip on the world-class radar. So her surfing career hadn’t taken too much of a hit when she’d backed out, in spite of all the local media attention. Even so, there was no way—no way—she�
�d been willing to hang in there and let people think that sex had eased her entry into the events. And for the next fourteen months, she’d aimed for the gold standard—highly prestigious competitions. Competitions that could kick a girl up into the world rankings. Competitions that could get her noticed and get her a sponsor.
Girls Go Banzai was one of those competitions, and even if Millie’s accident had meant that she’d missed the primary feeder competition for Banzai, nothing changed the fact that Laci had spent weeks carefully selecting which competitions and exhibitions she surfed. She’d done her best, busted tail on the waves, and she’d gotten herself noticed.
Herself. Not her former jerkwad of a bed partner.
So, yeah. She deserved this wild-card spot. And with a quick “I absolutely, totally do deserve it,” she told Drea so.
“Well, there you go,” Drea said, as if that solved everything. Laci sighed. Maybe it did.
Besides, once she won, that queer, uncomfortable feeling would go away. No one could say that she hadn’t earned the attention (or, she hoped, the endorsements) because the trophy would be sitting on her mantel. But until she actually won, she was just a pretender. And that was a role that didn’t sit well with Laci at all.
“Is Millie coming?” Drea asked, shifting the subject to Laci’s little sister.
Laci shook her head. “I wish. But she’s in Sydney doing The Magic Flute. A small role, but she’s got a solo, and she totally steals the show.” The car accident, thank goodness, hadn’t slowed Millie’s career one iota.
“Really? That’s awesome. You must be totally proud.”
“Enough to bust a gut,” Laci admitted, though Drea didn’t know the half of it. The truth was, Laci had been more like a mom to Millie than like a sister. No one knew the full story because Laci had never felt close enough to anyone to share. Couple that with the fact that dredging up her sub-par childhood was not on Laci’s list of fun things to do, and it made for a topic that was definitely not discussed in polite conversation.
She’d never even shared the details of her childhood with Taylor. He’d known she was close to her sister, of course. But all the other baggage… That stuff was best left buried.
Drea whipped the towel from around her hips and laid it out on the sand, then settled in, faceup to the sun, the pink zinc oxide on her nose making her look cuter than usual.