❈ Release Day Blitz ❈ At Your Beck & Call

Hallen Jansen has it all. At 28, he has a flashy car, a great apartment, and a job he’s good at and that he loves – as an escort – working at your beck and call.

His life is easy, with no emotions or attachments slowing him down – choosing to keep moving, always running from the past. But when a new client awakens unfamiliar feelings, all bets are off. Can he convince a recently divorced woman twenty years older to trust men again – to trust him? Can Hallen trust himself not to screw things up?

Surrounded by people who choose to judge them, will they make their relationship a reality, or is it heartbreak for both?

Not all services are professional.

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“Seriously, Eloise? A high school dance. Balloon arches and spiked punch?”

She laughed, although there was an edge to her voice.

“I would have thought it would make a nice change from older women, Hallen, and for once you can a knock a couple of years off your age.”

I frowned.

“Besides, the money is the same so what difference does it make?” Eloise said, brusquely. “Look, have you got any idea how brutal high school is for plain girls?”

Sometimes she made it sound like working as an escort was a mission, not … well, what it was.

“Melissa’s mother says she is very shy and a little overweight. She doesn’t want all her daughter’s memories of high school to be ghastly. And, frankly, there are very few reputable escort services offering anything to girls of her age. You’re only three years older and when you shave you’ll look younger. Look on it as an act of charity.”

“Oh, I’m sure Melissa would love to hear that,” I snarkedback.

“I told you to look her age, not act it,” Eloise replied, sharply. “Sweep her off her feet, but don’t sleep with her. Understand?”

“Yes, boss.

FACEBOOK / GOODREADS / TWITTER / AMAZON / BLOG / EDUCATION FAN PAGE / EDUCATION SCRAPBOOK

I started writing contemporary romance two years ago. Before that, I didn’t think I could write a sex scene. Turns out I can!

My lucky number is 13 because I was born on the 13^th and live near a haunted castle by the ocean. My number one past-time is watching hot surfers get changed into (and out of) their wetsuits.

My husband doesn’t read my books. My mother does.

Writing is my love, my hobby, my total addiction. All my characters are important to me and whisper their stories, even when I’ve finished writing their books. That’s why you’ll often find bonus chapters/out-takes from various books, because those voices just won’t be quiet.

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- Blog Tour - The Refrain by Ashley Pullo

 

 

Their paths have crossed, setting the refrain in motion.

Ever since flannel and Doc Martens were considered edgy fashion, Canadian cousins Natalie and Chloe have dreamt of a life in New York City. But now that they’ve finally scored a Manhattan zip code, their teenaged fantasies are overshadowed by an adult reality. With Natalie struggling to accept a long-distance relationship—and her constant battle with loneliness, her survival depends on Zach’s safe return. And with Chloe’s endless need to find balance and purpose—and her embarrassing secret holding her back, can Adam Ford be the one to understand her completely?

Change is inevitable and fate is insisting. And when panic follows crisis and love is questioned, stories can change in unexpected ways. The narrative becomes the verse, the part to the whole—the story within the story.

 

  

     

 

Slamming her hand against the keys to the piano, Chloe shouts, “Who is she?”

“The client is a forty-seven year old man.”  

“Not the client, who are you fucking?” Chloe demands, her voice deep and raw.

Adam takes two steps closer, glaring down at Chloe’s pitiful face. “I’m not fucking anyone.  Not even my wife,” he snarls.  It’s the answer Chloe needs to hear, but not the one she wants.  

She moves a step closer and pokes his chest. “Then explain this to me.”

“Explain what?”  

“This—this tension.  Why don’t I trust you?  Why am I so angry—where the fuck have you been?”  Chloe’s voice is dry and emotional, the words stinging her throat and falling from her mouth like hot embers. She punches his arm, hits his chest, and slaps at his smug expression.  

Adam grabs her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh, but Chloe fights him. “Stop it,” he says.  Chloe continues to wave her arms, desperately trying to break herself free.  Adam tightens his grip and twists her arm behind her back, controlling her…controlling her behavior.  “I have a career.  Do you understand that?  I’m working, I’m being a provider, I’m being a dad—doing the right thing.”

With as much contempt as she can gather, she shouts, “The right thing?  The right thing—your life is just one blob of obligation now?  Fuck you, Adam.  Always trying to be perfect—always doing the right thing.  We wouldn’t want anyone to know what you really are!”

“What does that mean?”  Adam eases his grip, upset by her threat.

“You’re a wall.”  Chloe yanks her arms free and shoves Adam’s chest.  “A fucking brick wall—no emotion and no attachment to anything that doesn’t fit your definition of right or wrong.  I’m sick of it!” Chloe’s voice is shaky and inaudible, tears suddenly drowning her words.

“Really?”  He smirks.  “You need me.  You need me to be your wall—you need an excuse to be destructive.  But then when you need that brick wall again, who’s supposed to build it?”

Chloe grits her teeth and holds her breath, rage setting in.  “You’re a fucking asshole.  God, you’re so arrogant—fuck you.”  Chloe shoves past Adam, running straight to the front door.  She hesitates momentarily to study her bare feet but then impulsively decides to run out into the summer rain.  She wants to run away, she wants to feel that sense of purpose again.  Adam follows behind her, shouting her name.  He’s enraged and bewildered—this is why he loves her—this is why she needs him.

“Chloe stop.”  Adam catches up to her and grabs her hand, yanking her in his direction.  The raindrops conceal her tears, there’s no end to one and a beginning of another—no separation of pain and passion.  Possibly the secret to any great romance…passion evolves from pain.

Adam takes Chloe in his arms and forces her against the large maple tree.  The fullness of the branches protects them from the rain, but their emotions are completely exposed and unrefined.

Chloe sobs, jerking her hand from his tight grasp.  “Leave me alone.”

“No,” he responds.

Adam pins her against the tree, slamming his hands above her shoulders.  They stare into each other’s eyes—carnal lust brimming with each sensation, old and new…this is one of those moments.  Chloe’s chest rises and falls.  Rain splatters against the tree.  Adam’s lips quiver with need.  Eyes wander over familiar features.  Drip drop—it’s rhythm.

And then, associating pain with passion, Chloe bites Adam’s lower lip—sucking and licking the delicate, rain-kissed skin.  Adam’s hand moves to her neck, squeezing gently to signify his control.  He kisses her, deep and satisfying, absorbing every last drop of painful doubt from her mind.  Chloe’s arms move to his shoulders, grasping…searching…

Words are meaningless.  Words are breathless.

“Adam.”  

Adam releases his hold, but not his authority.  In a hasty, yet sensual effort, he lifts Chloe into his arms—positioning one arm under her legs and the other tightly around her back.

“Shut up.” He commands with a smile.

And just like Rhett Butler seizing Scarlett O’Hara with passionate fury, Adam reclaims Chloe. Under the pouring rain.  Up the steps of the ironed stoop.  Through the door of their centuries-old brownstone.  Dripping wet.  Hearts racing.  Souls connecting.

…and then he slams the door.

 Before you read  

The Refrain, 

read  

The Ballad, book 1 

&  

The Intermission, book 2

All 3 are on sale for 99 cents during the blog tour! 

 

 

      

 

 

  

 

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Hey y'all! I'm Ashley Pullo, a New York transplant with an abundance of Texas charm and a proclivity for all things pop-culture. I like to think that I'm witty, gorgeous and highly intelligent but honestly, I'm not that funny. I'm a suburban mom living the dream with my handsome husband, two perfect children and a moderately cool dog, Roscoe. Life is pretty awesome, and you taking the time to read my words makes it that much sweeter! The Bridge Series is designed to involve the reader in the authenticity of life, love and loss. Enjoy the journey…revel in the imagery…and fall in love with modern storytelling at its finest.

                        

 

                       

✦ Cover Reveal ✦ At Your Beck & Call by Jane Harvey-Berrick

Hallen Jansen has it all. At 28, he has a flashy car, a great apartment, and a job he’s good at and that he loves – as an escort – working at your beck and call.

His life is easy, with no emotions or attachments slowing him down – choosing to keep moving, always running from the past. But when a new client awakens unfamiliar feelings, all bets are off. Can he convince a recently divorced woman twenty years older to trust men again – to trust him? Can Hallen trust himself not to screw things up?

Surrounded by people who choose to judge them, will they make their relationship a reality, or is it heartbreak for both?

Not all services are professional.

I was even more irritated when Sian laid a possessive hand on my chest, stroking me, as if I was some fucking pet. Maybe I was more annoyed because that’s exactly what I was to her.

“Well, beautiful,” she said, cocking one eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite this casual before.”

I glanced down at my ripped jeans, and old Fife Flyers t-shirt smeared with yet more paint.

“Except, of course,” Sian continued with a leer, “when you’re a lot more casual.”

She laughed throatily, a malicious glint in her eyes.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt embarrassed by her insinuation.

Laura showed she had more class than her friend by skating over the comment.

“Are you an artist, Hallen?” she asked, raising one eyebrow, daring me to contradict her now she’d caught me with the evidence, nodding at the tubes of oil paints I was carrying.

“Ha, well, depends on who you ask,” I replied, playing along with the illusion that we were strangers meeting for the first time.

She smiled warmly, as if she was trying to convey some meaning beyond her words. “I do admire people who have creative talents.”

“Hallen has many talents,” snorted Sian. “Or maybe I should say one big talent. Oh yes, he’s definitely creative! In fact, you wouldn’t believe how creative we can be when we get together. Is there anything we haven’t done creatively, beautiful?”

I felt my cheeks flush, and a small frown of disapproval appeared on Laura’s face. Sian was enjoying herself.

I stood up straight and took half a step backward so Sian’s hand fell away from me. I was not going to lose my shit in front of her.

“Well, I’d better get going. Enjoy your day, ladies.”

Laura smiled again, but Sian didn’t even wait until I was out of earshot before I heard her loud laugh.

“He fucks even better than he looks.”

FACEBOOK / GOODREADS / TWITTER / AMAZON / BLOG / EDUCATION FAN PAGE / EDUCATION SCRAPBOOK

I started writing contemporary romance two years ago. Before that, I didn’t think I could write a sex scene. Turns out I can!

My lucky number is 13 because I was born on the 13^th and live near a haunted castle by the ocean. My number one past-time is watching hot surfers get changed into (and out of) their wetsuits.

My husband doesn’t read my books. My mother does.

Writing is my love, my hobby, my total addiction. All my characters are important to me and whisper their stories, even when I’ve finished writing their books. That’s why you’ll often find bonus chapters/out-takes from various books, because those voices just won’t be quiet.

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