Right Here, Right Now

Right Here, Right Now

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Overview

‘Undercover’ by Lily Harlem

When two alpha males collide, sparks will fly.

‘Never the Groom’ by Samantha Cayto

A cold night turns unexpectedly hot.

‘The Soldier Next Door’ by Brigham Vaughn

Sometimes, love is right next door.

‘The Matchmakert’ by Alexa Milne

Sometimes you need a little push.

‘Throwaway’ by Jon Keys

Garrett escaped the death threat from his family, but the Texas Panhandle is where he may be at the end of any hope.

‘The Coach’ by Thom Collins

A routine assignment unlocks the secrets of his past.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781786516374
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group Ltd
Publication date: 10/03/2017
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: NOOK Book
Sales rank: 287,440
File size: 4 MB

About the Author

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever.

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don't understand why they can't read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.


Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking rolling hills her over active imagination has been allowed to run wild and free and she revels in using the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily's stories are made up of colourful characters exploring their sexuality and sensuality in a safe, consensual way. With the bedroom door left wide open the reader can hang on for the ride and Lily hopes by reading sensual romance people will be brave enough to try something new themselves? After all, life's too short to be anything other than fully satisfied.


Brigham Vaughn is starting the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.

Read an Excerpt

Copyright © Samantha Cayto, Lily Harlem, Brigham Vaughn, Jon Keys, Thom Collins&Alexa Milne 2017. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Pride Publishing.

Excerpt from 'Undercover'

Samuel was looking forward, as usual, to the latter part of his shift at Bilko, because it was then the sexy guy he had a secret crush on popped in for a few grocery supplies. Not that he’d ever spoken to him—he’d only admired from afar—but that still made it the highlight of his day.

He glanced at the clock for a third time, walked past a woman with a sleeping baby cocooned against her chest then passed by Sharon, who was humming a summer tune as she stacked beans on the shelf.

His mystery man had the cutest ass Samuel had ever seen and it was always encased in smart black pants. He usually teamed it with a plain white shirt that stretched over his shoulders and in hot weather, like today, the sleeves would be rolled up. It was the whole package that pushed Samuel’s buttons—the tilt of his chin, the grace of his movements, his statuesque height. And while thinking about packages, Samuel couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to get up close and personal with the package between hot guy’s legs.

Excerpt from 'Never the Groom'

“Ian Cabot?”

He looked around to see who had called his name. Amid the travelers bustling by, a man approached with a vaguely irritated expression. A gorgeous man with neat black hair, dark eyes and a smooth, square jaw. This had to be James Reynolds, although he was nothing like what he’d expected. Based on his father’s brief description, he’d pictured someone older and nerdier.

‘The guy must work twenty-four seven.’ Coming from his father, that hadn’t been a compliment. Reynolds was dressed in business-casual with a sports coat over a blue button-down shirt and khakis. It implied he’d been working earlier in the day. Which meant that he would be even more annoyed at having to detour to the airport to pick up Ian.

Awesome, way to make a first impression on a new in-law. There was nothing to be done about it, so… He ran his fingers through the curtain of hair on his right side to make sure it covered his face and neck before stepping forward.

“Um, yeah. Are you James?”

Excerpt from 'The Soldier Next Door'

“Travis, sweetie, can you grab the potato salad out of the fridge?”

Travis glanced up from his phone to look at his mom. “Sure, which one?”

“Oh, I made the mustard potato salad since you’re home. I know it’s your favorite. Your dad bitched and bitched, but I promised I’d make him some of his favorite soon.” Judy Schultz fussed with the flowers one more time, even though they were already perfect.

Travis stood and slipped his phone into his pocket. “No, not which potato salad, which fridge?”

“Oh.” Her hand fluttered distractedly. “The one in the basement.” She yelled after him as he turned to walk away. “Oh, and can you grab the big cooler we always put drinks in? There’s ice in it already. And once that’s up, can you set up the drinks on the deck?”

“Sure, Mom.” Travis chuckled to himself and jogged down the stairs. She was always a little flustered before her annual Fourth of July barbecue. It was a huge party—half the neighborhood came, along with all of her book club friends and their families.

Travis paused when he reached the bottom step. There was a man sitting on the couch, knees spread wide, elbows propped on them, head hanging.

Excerpt from 'The Matchmaker'

“I know you like him.”

Josh pressed the first Velcro strap across to make sure Tom’s shoe was tight on his foot. Did I hear him correctly? “Sorry?” he said, still kneeling.

“My dad, Simon,” Tom continued. “I know you like him.”

Josh’s heart leapt to his throat. What had Tom seen? He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings under control. He needed to shut this down. “Of course I like him, otherwise I wouldn’t put up living with the pair of you.” He stood. “There, that’s you ready for school. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Tom grinned at him, mischief filling the twelve-year-old’s expression. “I won’t give up, you know.” He moved the handle forward and maneuvered his wheelchair toward the door.

Still reeling, Josh grabbed Tom’s backpack and followed him. He opened the car, pulled out the ramp which allowed Tom to guide himself inside then secured the chair before getting into the driver’s seat. Perhaps Tom would give up if he said nothing to encourage him. Perhaps pigs might fly, too. After two years of working with Tom, Josh knew better. His cerebral palsy might cause physical problems, but he had a fiendishly clever mind. Josh pondered the situation as he drove. Should he simply give in and admit his feelings for Tom’s father, after all?

Excerpt from 'Throwaway'

Garrett sat glued to his seat, trying to keep the panic rising inside him to manageable levels. The bus door opened and he froze while the other passengers filed off. Garrett planned to use every minute he had before he left. He’d spent the last of his money to get as far away from his family as possible. He’d hoped to get to the West Coast—but this little town in the panhandle of Texas had become his destination when he’d found out the cost of his ticket.

“Hey. You have to get off the bus. This is your final destination.” The driver stopped, studying him for a minute. “Does your ride know when you’d be getting here?”

The thought of his family finding him sent a chill through Garrett, but he didn’t want to be caught in a complicated lie. “Yeah. It’s a drive for them. But they should be here soon.”

He moved faster under the driver’s considering gaze. It took only a few seconds to gather up everything he owned. Anything of value, including his iPhone, he’d sold to a pawnshop several states ago. Now he was down to a second change of clothes and not much else. As he moved out of the door, the hot breath of a West Texas summer hit him as if he’d opened a blast furnace. The heat rippled across the blacktop and gravel surrounding the convenience store, which doubled as a bus station. He threaded his arm through the loop on his backpack and headed toward the building.

When he stepped inside, Garrett paused for a moment to adjust to the dim surroundings. He’d hoped it had restroom facilities like a truck stop. He appreciated the showers that gave him an opportunity to clean up. With no towel, using them became tricky, but he was willing to figure it out to wash himself.

“Welcome to the Snack Shax. Can I help you find something?”

Excerpt from 'The Coach'

“Why me?” I grumbled. “I know nothing about rugby.”

Anna Madley, editor of The Woodbridge Echo, didn’t take excuses, not from anyone. “You wrote that article on the Durham Cricket team, didn’t you? You claimed to know nothing about that when you started.”

“But rugby!”

“You’re a journalist, Josh. What you don’t know, you find out. Do your research. That’s your job.” Pushing her glasses onto the bridge of her nose, she turned her attention to the computer monitor. The conversation was over. Matter dismissed.

With gritted teeth, I left her office, returning to the icy room I shared with the paper’s other two reporters. The only window was an opaque rectangle set high on the wall, which allowed minimal daylight into the poky space. The room was poorly lit by two florescent strips and scant warmth came from a single-bar electric heater. It was mid-February and the room was freezing.

Dixie Ellis wore fingerless gloves as she tapped away at her keyboard with her bright red hair piled beneath a fur-trimmed hat.

“What did you get?” she asked, wrapping her fingers round a mug.

“Local rugby team. They’ve won a county championship and qualified for a national cup.” I sank heavily into my chair. “I hate sports stories. Why couldn’t she give it to Kenny? He always does sport. He loves that crap.”

“Kenny’s on court duty this week.”

“Has he left already?”

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