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Keira relaxed further into the pillow grabbing my hand to twist her fingers with mine. “So no one moment?”

“No, baby. A thousand, a million and more than that to come. No one loved me like you did. No one on this planet ever gave me more than you. I don’t need one damn moment to know we belong together. That’s our weakness. That’s our strength. Us, together.” I held her face, tilting her chin so I could get at her lips. “I only need you and the always we promised each other when we were kids.”

“Kona…”

I let my wife cry, sweet tears that told me how happy she was, fierce kisses that I knew meant the struggle we’d had was fading in the distance. Once, not so long ago, I thought Keira’s love was like a melody, lyric and rhyme that sometimes rattled me. Now I knew as I kissed my Wildcat, loved her again and again, that we were never a melody. We’d always been a symphony, sometimes loud and discordant, sometimes soft and soulful, but always, always beautiful. And that music would never fade.



The End





Eden Butler is an editor and writer of Romance, SciFi and Fantasy novels and the nine-time great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum.

When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden impatiently awaits her Hogwarts letter, writes, reads and spends too much time watching rugby, “Doctor Who” and New Orleans Saints football. Currently, she is imprisoned under teenage rule alongside her husband in Southeastern Louisiana.

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Virna DePaul





Royally Deep excerpt by Virna DePaul - A sexy quarterback and an adventurous princess turn some serious sexual tension into the romance of a lifetime.





Take one sexy quarterback,

Mix in one adventurous princess,

Add some serious sexual tension,

And you get the royal romance of a lifetime.



Kyle Young—all-star quarterback and lady-killer—thought he knew what he wanted out of life: freedom, football and fun. Then he meets Bella. She seems like the perfect woman: gorgeous, funny, and a huge football fan. But what he doesn't know? Bella also happens to be Princess Arabella of Salasia.

Yearning for adventure and romance before she devotes herself to her country and marries a man she doesn’t love, Arabella can’t believe her luck when she meets Kyle. Sparks fly between the football player and the princess, and they begin an affair neither of them could’ve imagined.

Soon, however, duty and self-doubt cause Kyle and Arabella to separate. Can he become the prince she needs? And can Arabella overcome her family’s disapproval? Or will their love transform into a pumpkin at midnight, leaving them both without a happily ever after?

Note: Royally Deep is part of the Going Deep Series by Virna DePaul, which releases soon.

***If you are a new-to-me reader, I hope you’ll check out my other books. You can start with these (3) FREE Series Starters!





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Also by Virna DePaul





GOING DEEP SERIES

BEDDING THE BACHELORS SERIES

HOME TO GREEN VALLEY SERIES

ROCK CANDY SERIES

SAY YOU LOVE ME SERIES





1





“Your Majesty, is this really necessary?” Royce, Princess Arabella of Salasia’s bodyguard, asked in a gruff voice.

Arabella grinned even as she continued painting the side of his face blue to match her own. “Yes, it’s necessary. Now hold still.” She bit her lip, concentrating.

Having recently arrived in New York City, Arabella—with Royce in tow—was about to attend the New York Knights’ preseason opening game against Arabella’s favorite team, the Savannah Bootleggers. My first American football game! she thought with glee, even if Kyle Young won’t be playing. Young had been her favorite player for years now, and she’d followed his career closely. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was a talented, savvy ball player who’d only increased in skill as the years passed.

She supposed it was too much to ask, watching a real football game and being able to see her favorite quarterback score. The team would never risk Young getting injured in a preseason game. Instead, Brian Murphy, the Bootleggers’ third-string quarterback, would be getting some action. Good enough for her! Nothing was going to ruin the excitement of her first real adventure.

Well, as long as her bodyguard and watchdog Royce went along with her plans.

“You look great, Royce. Now let me get you a foam finger…” She placed the giant blue hand on him, and he glowered. “There, all set.”

“Might I inquire again why we are not sitting with Mr. York in his private box? You would be more comfortable there, Your Majesty.”

Jacques York, a family friend and fellow Salasian, was the owner of the New York Knights, and was partnering with the Salasian royal family in a number of charities, which was the reason Arabella was in New York in the first place. He’d been the one to give her the tickets to the game, but she’d declined sitting in his private box, mostly because she didn’t want to be treated like a princess today but also because she was a huge Bootleggers fan and didn’t want to be impolite by cheering for the opposing team in front of Jacques.

“I told you, I want to experience a football game just like anyone else would,” she said. “Being served martinis in an air-conditioned box with the Salasian owner of the New York Knights wouldn’t precisely fit the bill, now would it?”

She moved to the hotel mirror—one of many in the lavish hotel suite—making sure her own face paint was perfect and that her long, dark hair was pulled up in a neat ponytail. Normally, she’d wear a suit to any public event, but today she wore jean shorts and a tight tank with BOOTLEGGERS emblazoned across the chest.

After a few more finishing touches, they drove to the stadium in the limo rented for Arabella’s use. New Yorkers bustled along the sidewalk, phones in hand or yelling at taxis. What would it be like to walk out of her flat—no, her apartment—and just go where she wanted? She sighed inwardly at the thought, knowing it wasn’t something she’d ever experience for herself.

She shouldn’t complain, though. She had grown up with wealth and gone to the best schools and could travel the world. But then again, what good was wealth if she always had to worry about how others would react to what she was purchasing? What good was traveling if it was always for business or charity, and she always had to be around others, and could never truly relax?

“We’re here,” Royce said just as the limo stopped. Outside, groups of people were walking toward the stadium. Anabella was thrilled that so many fans were attending a preseason game.

“We’ll wait until we’re closer to the gates before we exit,” Royce said.

“No, let’s get out now,” she replied, bouncing with excitement. “I’d rather not make a huge show of being in a limo.” Arabella reached for the door handle and before Royce could protest, stepped out into the open. She heard him mumble underneath his breath as he followed her.

“Your Majesty, I would advise you to stay close to me and do as I say. Your mother only allowed you to come to New York on the condition that I stay with you at all times, and she wasn’t happy about you wanting to watch a football game to begin with, let alone watch from the common area.”

“Yes, I know. But I want to experience this like any other fan. And if anyone asks, you’re my brother. At least attempt to act like a normal person today, please?”

His dark eyebrows furrowed, but at her stubborn expression, he nodded.

After purchasing beers and hot dogs and nachos, she and Royce found their spots in the stands. Arabella sat next to a teenage boy, who blushed when she smiled at him. She just smiled wider, and laughed out loud simply because she felt happy and free.

“What is so amusing?” Royce asked.

“Nothing of consequence.” She poked him in the side, like she would her own brother Louis. “Liven up, Royce. Everything will be fine. Maybe you’ll even have a little fun.”

He grunted.

The game didn’t start for another twenty minutes, but when the marching band began playing, the crowd erupted in cheers. Arabella waved her foam finger and held her beer up as the Knights ran onto the field. But she screamed when the Savannah Bootleggers came out, their uniforms bright blue against the green of the field.

“Oh, my goodness. Is that...? It is!” she squealed, reaching over and squeezing Royce’s arm. “Look, it’s Kyle Young, the first-string quarterback,” she told her bodyguard, who looked less than impressed.

“I’m pleased that seeing Mr. Young makes you happy, Your Majesty,” he said politely.

More like made certain parts of her body happy, Arabella thought, given Kyle Young had starred in several of her more X-Rated fantasies, and at her first sighting of him out in the wild, her body appeared to be undergoing some Pavlovian response. Down girl, she commanded herself. Dressed in street clothes, Young wore a headset, which he, like the coaches, would use to communicate with Murphy. She strained to see his individual features—the sparkling blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and strong jaw she’d only seen on screen or in magazines before. But unfortunately, he was too far away to properly admire, so she focused her gaze on the field instead.