Turn to Me by Kaitlyn Stone - Giveaway & Book Tour

Title: Turn to Me (The Thin Blue Thread 2)
Author: Kaitlyn Stone
Genre: Contemporary New Adult
Publish Date: 4/6/15
Publisher: Siren-Bookstrand
Event organized by: Literati Author      

The “Swoon-worthy” Donovan Alexander returns in Turn to Me, the newest work of fiction in the Thin Blue Thread Series inspired by true events from author Kaitlyn Stone. This steamy contemporary new adult romance series features alpha male heroes and sexy, empowered women. They're flawed, funny, passionate, and relatable. When fate intervenes, resurfacing both their painful pasts, 19-year-old college student Kenna Sloane and 22-year-old rookie cop Donovan Alexander must deal with the consequences and the unresolved feelings. Kenna turns to Donovan for support and guidance, seeking the release only Donovan can provide. But the more he becomes preoccupied with the Santa Monica drug taskforce, his heart blackens with vengeance for his brother and he risks losing Kenna’s love forever. Don’t miss this intriguing story of forgiveness and letting go.

Donovan swipes the card to our cabin and secures the door behind me. I take a quick turn in the bathroom before joining Donovan in our siting area. He’s on the short couch, eyeing me speculatively when I slink back into the room. I walk over, straddling his legs, and start rubbing his arms. I can’t help rocking on his lap, creating friction between my panties and his pants. Donovan sits back on the couch with half-hooded eyes, hardening in response to my seductive moves. I lean in and claim his mouth with force. He clasps the back of my head with both hands and pulls me in deeper. Our tongues clash violently.
He breaks the kiss and cocks his head. “How many drinks did you have tonight?”
“I only had two.” I fold my arms across my chest. “And, I’m allowed to drink on the ship. The drinking age is eighteen.” I knew he was going to be pissy about this.
“No. I know. We’ve already had this discussion anyway. You’re a big girl who makes her own decisions. I just noticed these have had an interesting effect on you, that’s all. I didn’t know you liked to dance so much.”
“I kind of like the way it makes me feel—sexy.” I lick my lips and lean down to his ear to whisper, “It makes me want to do naughty things with you.” I graze his lobe with my front teeth.
He growls, “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I drop my head and peek up through my lashes. “You like the way I dance?”
“I like everything you do,” he says, curling up the corners of his grin.
With liquid courage fueling my actions, I stand up and start swaying to the music in my head. I move my hands fluidly around my body, caressing, teasing my skin through the silky fabric. My nipples harden and I pinch them, licking my lips, eyeing Donovan taking in the show. I skim the dress over my head and drop it to the floor. Slowly, I lower my bra straps and unlatch the back, holding it in place like a burlesque dancer, before plucking it from my chest and tossing it in Donovan’s lap. His half-hooded eyes go wide. Rotating my hips, I turn my back to Donovan and slowly bend over, exposing my scantily clad backside.
“I know you want to touch it.” I shake my lacy behind, tempting him. Donovan leans forward and with both hands kneads my flesh and then quickly but firmly slaps my right cheek. “Ow!” I purr again. This is a different game. “Is that my punishment for being a naughty girl?” I egg him on to play more.
“No. It was just too tempting not to bite or smack. You have such a perfectly shaped bottom, and with your underwear riding up this way”—he traces the outline of the shape with his finger—”it looks like an upside-down heart.”
I crouch down, lowering my rear to his lap, and start grinding on his erection, balancing myself with my hands on his thighs. I lean back against his chest, stirring my hips slower. “Maybe we should do it this way.”
“We can try it tomorrow, but not tonight.”
“Why not? It’ll be fun,” I protest with a frown in my voice.
“I’m not having sex with you tonight,” he says, caressing my thighs to ease the sting of his rejection.
I pause on his lap before whipping around, narrowing my eyes at him. “But I’m horny.” I sound desperate, pleading.
“I know. I’ll take care of you, but I’m not making love with you while you’re drunk.
Now I’m pissed. Enough with this alcohol issue he has. “I…am…not drunk. I only had two drinks. And you really need to get over your hang-up about me and alcohol.”
“I don’t have any hang-ups. I don’t care if you drink, but when I make love to you, I don’t want you clouded by any artificial substance. I don’t want you under the influence of anything but love and desire. I want you with me, one-hundred percent—to feel every touch, respond to every movement, to just be aware of me in that moment. I’m not having sex with the drunken version of you.”
“You’re no fun.” I glower. “Forget it.” I lean forward to get off his lap. “I’ll just take care of myself. I don’t need you, anyway.” But I do need him. My urge is for Donovan to be with me, touching me, bringing me to release.
Donovan grabs both my wrists and pulls me back against his chest. “Don’t. That’s my job.”
“You’re such a control freak,” I spit at him, trying to get up again.
But Donovan won’t let me budge. He holds me in place by my wrists. “It’s my job to take care of you and provide for your needs, physical or emotional. Don’t rob me of that role.”
His hot breath bathes my ear. I struggle to move, but his grip is too strong. The primal challenge exciting me further.
His voice softens, his eyes imploring. “I want you to come to me when you’re in need—turn to me, not away from me. And if you’re in need of release, I want to be the one who gives it to you. I’m sure you’d want the same thing from me.” Donovan releases my right wrist and combines it with my left one in his large hand. He slides his fingers under my panties and cups my hot wetness.
His words hit me. “Turn to me, not away from me.” When we turn toward each other, we are doubly strong and we can conquer anything, together.

“Let me give you what you need, Kenna,” he begs, pressing his fingers between my moist flesh.

They say for authors to write what they know. My novels are inspired by events in my own life. I truly relive my experiences twice through the lives of the characters I create. Not only do I relate to their thoughts and feelings, I have lived many of them. When I sat down to write a love story inspired by my real-life first love as a tribute to our very own fairytale romance, I never thought a book would be the end result, but 80,000 words later that’s exactly what I had. I wanted to express in words what his love means to me and how it changed me as a person, never to see or experience life the same. My goal was to capture the essence of true love through an intriguing story and create rich, life-like characters to speak of the emotions I felt when falling in love for the first time. One chapter turned into two, and those, plus twenty-two more became a book. Once I realized my goal of writing a book was going to come to fruition, I wished to share my story with the world, to inspire others to believe in true love and happily-ever-after’s. Choosing our milestone anniversary as its publication date, I planned to self-publish my completed novel for my husband’s gift. What better way to tell the man of your dreams how much you truly love him, then sharing it with the world. I admit I have always gravitated toward love stories and happily-ever-after's, forever chasing the first love dragon. There's nothing like the witty banter between characters, fueling their physical attraction, and the anticipation of their first kiss. Add in the push and pull from the couple's sexual tension and the world trying to tear them apart, and you have a recipe for an exciting, steamy romance. Place the couple in interesting locations, living adventures most only dream of and the journey propels you forward through the pages. Sprinkle in danger for both the hero and heroine to combat and the courage and strength of the characters shine through. Because I’m not a writer by training, I worked with writing critique groups to fine tune my manuscript before the planned release date of summer, 2014. As a fluke, not expecting any response, I submitted my completed manuscript to a publishing house, and a week later I was offered a contract.