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BLURB:
Holland Kelly wasn’t a people person. Okay, that’s not true, she wasn’t one particular man person. That man? Her next-door neighbor Dick Brooks. Fine, his real name was Reid, but Dick sounded better.
Life would have been perfect if she never had to interact with him again.
Unfortunately, life wasn't perfect.
Now she is stuck spending hours with the neighbor she has always hated while they work to save their homes.
Have his eyes always been that shade?
Has he always been so good looking?
And those lips..



EXCERPT 1:
Just after three, Holland still hadn’t showed, so I decided that I’d get dinner going just in case I convinced her to stay. What was I thinking? The woman was so insufferable she would probably show up tomorrow morning just to leave me hanging. Still, I found myself in the kitchen and started chopping vegetables.
“I thought that I told you I wouldn’t be here tonight for dinner,” my sister said as she came into the kitchen and examined the two New York strips that I had set out to defrost. Ellie had moved in with me a little over a year ago after her divorce, and probably wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
“Yep, you told me.” I reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the stuff to make a salad.
“Then why two steaks? Are you on some protein kick that I don’t know about?”
“Holland is coming over.”
Ellie started pounding her chest and coughing. “Uh-uh, Holland? As in our next door neighbor Holland Kelly, the one that would rather run you over than look at you? The Holland who I have yet to hear call you by anything other than Dick Brooks, that Holland?”
“Yep.”
“And you think serving food that require knives to cut is a good idea?”
I stopped pulling apart the lettuce. “Maybe I didn’t think this one out totally.”
“You think?” Ellie picked up her purse. “Well, if there’s blood everywhere when I get home, at least you can’t say that I didn’t warn you.


Excerpt 2 - NSFW
“Take me to your secret lair.” I smiled and winked.
“Makes me sound like a monster,” he groaned as he slid a hand under my shirt and cupped my breast.
“Or a beast.”
“I’ll show you a beast.”
“Brag much?” But I had already felt him, I knew that he wasn’t bragging, but I couldn’t stop myself from aggravating him.
He turned and carried me, I hadn’t really had a chance to look at his home, and part of me wanted to do that but at the same time, I wanted him. I found the best of both worlds kissing his collarbone. Don’t judge, I know that I looked like a friggin’ vampire, but I could kiss and look over his shoulder as he carried me up the sprawling staircase. It was like something out of Gone With the Wind. I kissed as he passed several closed doors and then moved into what I figured was his bedroom. If it wasn’t his, someone was in for a shock.
His king-size bed was situated under a large half-moon shaped window, and he came to a stop next to it. He slowly let my legs down and held me close to him until he was sure that I was steady on my feet.
“Get up on the bed,” he ordered. I kicked off my shoes and then crawled onto the thick comforter. “Stand up.”
I did as ordered and then turned to face him. Apparently, I wasn’t close enough because he pulled me forward so that I was right in front of him and he was level with my pussy. “Hold on, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in a second.” He leaned forward and blew hot air that seemed to soak through the denim and make me very aware of just how soaked my panties were.
With one hand, he pulled the button on my jeans free and then tugged the zipper down. Then he slowly slid them down my legs and helped me step out of them.
For a moment I freaked, totally forgetting which panties I had worn, but a glance told me I was in my Friday ones. For once, I was wearing the right panties on the right day. I usually just reached in and grabbed a pair. As long as they were clean, what did I care?
Slowly he came around and cupped my butt, his fingertips softly massaging my cheeks.
“Are you sure?” His voice slipped into a husky timbre.
Actions were louder than words so I dropped to my knees and kissed him. He kissed me back, and my tongue slipped inside and tangled with his. That was all the control he let me have before he was pressing forward and demanding more from me. A small whimper slid from my mouth. I couldn’t think, and I could hardly breathe while I was experiencing one of the most soul-stealing kisses of my life.
The feel of him so close, the warmth of his skin, his tongue continuing to plunge deeper each time it found mine. The air between us sparked, and he caught my bottom lip between his teeth and bit it softly.
His hands trailed down my sides, curving over my hips and then hooking under me to bring my legs out so that I was flat on my back and my legs were hanging off the bed. He slowly slid my panties down as he let out a chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Do you normally forget the day of the week and need to check your underwear to be certain?”
“Shut up and get undressed.”
He was grinning as he pulled back, and I propped myself up on my elbows, ready for the show. I didn’t dare blink for fear that I might miss something as he toed off his boots and then pulled his T-shirt over his head. Holy hell, he was built. Okay, I knew the man was in shape, but this should be illegal. He even had that perfectly formed V that slightly showed above the waistband of his jeans, and I was dying to get my hands on it.
When he unbuttoned the top button of his Levi button-fly jeans, I held my breath. Was he a boxer or briefs guy or maybe a boxer brief guy? Please, just no tighty whities.
When the last button was undone and he slid his jeans off I felt like I should do penitence because the man was commando and his cock . . . oh my lord, it was huge.
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About Danielle
Before becoming a romance writer, Danielle was a body double for Heidi Klum and a backup singer for Adele. Now, she spends her days trying to play keep away from Theo James, who won't stop calling her or asking her out.
And all of this happens before she wakes up and faces reality where in fact she is a 50-something mom with grown kids. She's been married longer than Theo's been alive, and she now gets her kicks riding a Harley.
As far as her body, she can thank Ben & Jerry's for that, as well as gravity and vodka. But she says that she could never be Adele's backup since she never stops saying the F-word long enough to actually sing.
Danielle writes about kickass women with even better shoes and the men that try to tame them (silly, silly men).
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