Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides in South America with her Argentinean partner, a detail she uses to justify her Bachelor's degree in Latin American Literature. In addition to romance novels, she also writes travel articles, maintains three blogs, and continually attempts to complete a mildly-gripping short story. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, travels the world, and eats lots of vegetables.
Paige Alexander, successful host of A New York Minute, adores her job and will do anything to save the show that’s her brainchild. But when IBC, fronted by Josh Lambert, buys NYCBC, Paige’s show is cancelled, and her choices are unemployment or a non-starring role on a new show co-hosted by Jerk Lambert, a man who makes her hotter than hell in every way. Having scaled the golden rungs of the corporate ladder, Josh doesn’t do relationships or complicated. Promised a multimillion dollar payday if he turns Wakin’ Up—the show that replaced Paige’s—into a hit, Josh kisses uncomplicated goodbye when she shows up. The woman fascinates and terrifies in equal measure, and he’s suddenly questioning the value of gold versus the value of her. Forced together in an Hawaiian paradise, the steam just keeps rising—on set, in the sauna, and in the narrowing distance between them. Buy A NEW YORK MINUTE Wild Rose Press Amazon All Romance B&N
“I’ve wanted this to happen since the day I met you,” he whispered in her ear, sending shivers up and down her spine. “So have I,” she admitted, too quickly for her own taste. He laughed, deep and gravelly. His green eyes sparkled—the mask of his professional façade had completely fallen away. She loved this real Josh above her. He was so boyish yet mature, hard-bodied yet gentle. “But Paige, I thought you hated me.” “What makes you think I still don’t?” She placed tiny kisses up and down the sides of his neck. Kissing him removed the veneer of his professional side, allowed her to peer behind the curtain to the soft core inside. A regular guy with power, a west coast boy with dreams. Wiping away the Hollywood lacquer revealed something even more attractive beneath. “Well, this certainly doesn’t look like you hate me,” he whispered, fingertips trailing down the side of her face, over the dip in her neck, making swirls in the area between her breasts.