From
the New York Times bestselling author of such “racy,
sizzling Stark novels” (RT Book Reviews) as Release Me and
Say My Name comes the provocative first Stark International
Novel—the beginning of the S.I.N. series.
It
was wrong for us to be together, but it was even harder to be apart.
The
memory of Dallas Sykes burns inside of me.
Everyone
knows him as a notorious playboy, a man for whom women and money are
no object. But to me, he’s still the one man I desperately
crave—yet the one I can never have.
Dallas
knows me better than anyone else. We bear the same scars, the same
darkness in our past. I thought I could move on by staying away, but
now that we’re drawn together once more, I can’t fight the force
of our attraction or the temptation to make him mine.
We’ve
tried to maintain control, not letting ourselves give in to desire.
And for so long we’ve told ourselves no—but now it’s finally
time to say yes.
Dirtiest
Secret is intended for mature audiences.
Dirtiest
Secret
Amazon
US - http://amzn.to/1HijJ77
Amazon
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Audible
- http://amzn.to/1TadROA
B&N/Nook
- http://bit.ly/1NLTbvq
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR:
J.
Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today,
Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International
bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories
in a variety of genres.
Though
known primarily for her award-winning and internationally bestselling
erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that
have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list and
#1 internationally, JK has been writing full time for over a decade
in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance,
"chicklit" suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy
lit.
JK
has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a "flair
for dialogue and eccentric characterizations" and by RT Bookclub
for having "cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant
antiheroes and the women who swopn for him." A four time
finalist for Romance Writers of America's prestigious RITA award, JK
took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic
romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark
Trilogy).
WEBSITE:
http://juliekenner.com/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/juliekenner
Instagram:
https://instagram.com/juliekenner/
Amazon
Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/J.-Kenner/e/B00TUBLRHA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2?qid=1444314245&sr=1-2
EXCERPT:
Even
by Southampton standards, the party at the nine-thousand-square-foot
mansion on Meadow Lane reeked of extravagance.
Grammy
Award–winning artists performed on an outdoor stage that had been
set up on the lush lawn that flowed from the main house to the tennis
courts. Celebrities hobnobbed with models who flirted with Wall
Street tycoons who discussed stock prices with tech gurus and
old-money academics, all while sampling fine scotch and the season’s
chicest gin. Colored lights illuminated the grotto style pool, upon
which nude models floated lazily on air mattresses, their bodies used
by artisan sushi chefs as presentation platters for epicurean
delights.
Each
female guest received a Hermès Birkin bag and each male received a
limited edition Hublot watch, and the exclamations of delight—from
both the men and the women—rivaled the boom of the fireworks that
exploded over Shinnecock Bay at precisely ten p.m., perfectly timed
to distract the guests from the bustle of the staff switching out the
dinner buffet for the spread of desserts, coffee, and liqueurs.
No
expense had been spared, no desire or craving or indulgence
overlooked. Nothing had been left to chance, and every person in
attendance agreed that the party was the Must Attend event of the
season, if not of the year. Hell, if not of the decade.
Everyone
who was anyone was there, under the stars on the four acre lot on
Billionaires’ Row.
Everyone,
that is, except the billionaire who was actually hosting the party.
And speculation as to where he was, what he was doing, and who he was
doing it with ripped through the well-liquored and gossip-hungry
crowd like wildfire in a windstorm.
“No
idea where he could have disappeared off to, but I’d bet good money
he’s not pining away in solitude,” said a reed-thin man with
salt-and-pepper hair and an expression that suggested disapproval but
was most likely envy.
“I
swear I came five times,” a perky blonde announced to her best
friend in the kind of stage whisper designed to attract attention.
“The man’s a master in bed.”
“He’s
got a shrewd head for business, that one,” said a Wall Street
trader, “but no sense of propriety where his cock is concerned.”
“Oh,
honey, no. He’s not relationship material.” A brunette
celebrating a recently inked modeling contract shivered as if
reliving a moment of ecstasy. “He’s like fine chocolate. Meant to
be savored in very limited quantities. But so damn good when you have
it.”
“More
power to him if he can grab that much pussy.” A hipster with beard
stubble and a man-bun wiped his wire-rimmed glasses clean with his
shirttail. “But why the fuck does he have to be so blatant about
it?”
“All
of my friends have had him.” The petite redhead who pulled in a six
figure wife bonus smiled slowly, and the flash of her green eyes
suggested that she was the cat and he was the delicious cream. “But
I’m the only one of us to enjoy a second helping.”
“All
your friends?”
“How
much pussy?”
“At
least half the women here tonight. Maybe more.”
“Man,
don’t even ask that. Just trust me. Dallas Sykes is the King of
Fuck. You and me? Mere mortals like us can’t even compare.”
