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Four weeks to go until Beyond Temptation is out, along with the other awesome stories in the MARKED anthology. Have you signed up for the release day notification yet? You wouldn’t want to miss Noah and Emma and their grand adventure. If you’d like a taste of things to come…check out the excerpt below.

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Noah tried to smile in return, but the expression wouldn’t come. Not until he got away from all the attention, out of the spotlight and back into the shadows. Not while strangers jostled around him, slapping his bare shoulders and shouting words that flitted past him as an annoying buzz.

He didn’t smile until he found her, standing on the edge of the floor in a circle of respectful space no doubt enforced by the O’Kane ink wrapped around her wrists.

Blood pounded in his ears as he forced past the first knot of admirers. People followed the path of his gaze and began to melt away, until an empty stretch of concrete lined with too-curious spectators was all that stood between him and Emma.

It was too fucking late. Fleming would know he had a weak spot by morning. By tomorrow night, he’d know it was Emma Cibulski.

Fuck, this moment had probably been in the back of Noah’s head all along, buried in that dark place he refused to go, as if avoidance could make it disappear. It had played out so pretty—stick around, put her in just enough danger that leaving would make it worse. Maybe he was everything he’d always feared—selfish and obsessed and lying to himself about whether or not he’d ever planned on letting Emma go.

She was his. Good or bad, twisted or wrong, she was his, and he closed the last few steps with a hungry groan, buried his bruised hands in her hair, and kissed her.

The crowd grew louder, but everything in Noah’s world was Emma—her taste and her tongue and the fingers that clutched at his bare back, drawing him closer to the softness of her body.

She wanted him violent. Bloody. She wanted him demanding, and she was proving it, going sweet and supple beneath his hands, open and eager, giving him everything he’d never dreamed of allowing himself to want.

He growled against her mouth and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Emma shuddered, her hands gliding over his skin—ribs, sides, stomach—to rest on his belt buckle.

Three steps put her back against the wall. Wrapped in shadows, but not hidden—awareness of the crowd behind him prickled along Noah’s bare spine as he braced his hands on either side of her head and licked her plump lower lip. “Something you want, Emmy?”