Sunday, February 11, 2018

***COVER REVEAL*** Once Bitten by Ashley Suzanne (Releasing 2/22)

Are you ready to see the cover for Once Bitten, the 1st book in the Three Weisman series?!?  Well, wait no more!!!!

A HUGE round of applause to Melissa Gill with MGBookCovers for this AMAZING cover!!!

I'm soooo very excited to share this story with y'all.  It was an idea that popped in my head around Christmas.  I sent a sample to a few friends who all but demanded (okay, they did demand) MORE!!!  I'm a proud book mama, today!!!  February 22nd, I can't wait.

I’m in love with my boyfriend’s brother.But before you judge me, you need to know the whole story. I’ve been in love with Walker Weisman for as long as I can remember. And when our summer romance turned out to be a short-lived fling, I was left destroyed.I fought hard, picked myself up by my bootstraps, and started to heal; tape and glue holding my heart together.  I leaned on my friends, started dating again and felt almost human … when Walker wanted a second chance.With my head and heart at war, a decision was needed—my boyfriend or his brother … 
Wanna read a sneak peek?!?!  HERE YA GO!!!!

CHAPTER 1 Max“Are y’all ready for the best damn Three Weisman New Year’s Bash ever?” Wes, the middle Weisman son screams from his perch atop the Steinway in the foyer.  If only his mother could see him now—shoes scuffing the top of her eighty-thousand-dollar piano, beer sloshing over the brim of his red, plastic cup …Logically, I know not every single partygoer hears his question, yet they all—roughly a hundred of his closest friends—hoot and holler in a chorus of contagious excitement.
I’ve known Wes—the Weisman family—my entire life and his antics aren’t anything new, or anything exciting, at least for me, anymore.  Unwilling to be as obnoxious as he’d like—yelling out like everyone else—I take a sip my half-full flute of champagne and tilt my glass toward him when I finish with a tight-lipped, phony smile.  A few of our mutual friends loudly sigh when Wes sends a wink my way and licks his lips suggestively.  I, however, fight the desire to roll my eyes.As the drunken fool fist pumps to the house music blaring through the speakers, the soles of his shoes definitely scuffing the top of the piano, I ignore his obnoxious behavior and turn to walk into the kitchen.  Then, and only then, when my back’s turned, my eyes roll so hard they just might stick that way, just like my mother warned during my wicked teen years.
Who, exactly, thought driving the hour from Tysdale to Cape Lane Shores was a good idea?  Noelle and Jade, my best lady friends … or at least who I thought were my best friends … who like signing me up for parties where my boyfriend’s so trashed he wouldn’t know if I was here or not.
I can’t be mad at them, though.  Well, not completely anyway.  When the Weisman brothers throw a party, it’s a ritual, one I’m a part of, so showing up isn’t truly an option.  The story of my entanglement with Walker, Wes and Wren Weisman goes back as far as I can remember.Since I was born, we all knew I’d marry into this family.  It wasn’t a secret.  Like most families, my mother and the matriarch of the Weisman Web started a plan to join our two clans.  Similar to when teenage girls doodle their names with the surname of their crush on a notebook … that kind of thing.Unlike the other mothers out there plotting against their children to create a super-dynasty, ours weren’t teasing; the china pattern was already on reserve along with a June slot at the club.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a marriage license application was already prepared, just waiting for which of the Weisman boys I’d choose … or would choose me.
I used to go out of my way to date boys as far from the ideal Weismans as I could find.  Then, I shocked even myself when one hot, summer night, being betrothed to this family seemed like the best possible outcome.  I wasn’t looking and there he was; a Weisman caught my eye and stole my heart. With my soul, I’d picked for myself a man I’d want to be with, forever not out of the question.  I didn’t need any prompting or corrosion from the House of Gilmore or House of Weisman.  I’d fallen in love, all by myself, with a Weisman.Just not Wes.  Never Wes.Years of longing and wanting became my reality Fourth of July weekend at a different, yet equally as infamous Three Weisman bash.  I could see myself waking up every morning, rolling over and kissing my Weisman husband …
“It’s a party, Max.  Loosen up a bit, let your hair down.  I know you have it in you.” His whisper, hot and heavy on my neck, sends a quiver through my knees just like it’s always done, and I bet always will.“Walker,” I breathe, barely audible.  Thank God for excessively loud, terrible music.  The last thing I want is for Walker to notice the hitch in my breath, pebbling of my nipples, the slight sway in my gait, the quake in my damn knees—but here he is, doing exactly that … noticing.  Trying desperately to mask the automatic, regardless-if-I-want-it reaction to his proximity, I correct my posture, square my shoulders and hold my head high.  Barely turning to face Walker, there he is, nearly on top of me.  So unbearably close, if I were to wet my lips, I’d be licking his.
“My hair’s just fine, thank you,” I quip, not giving him an ounce room to work the typical Weisman charm.  “Holy fuck you smell amazing!” I scream in my head.
Apparently, an inch isn’t needed for Walker to take a mile.  I hoped he would back away, if for no other reason than to keep me from climbing his body and losing any sense of sanity I possess.  He steps into me, bringing our bodies flush, his wandering hand skimming my waist until it finds purchase at the small of my back.  His voice doesn’t rise to compensate for the blasting music, but I don’t miss a word he says.  “Didn’t think you guys would be here.  My father invited you two lovebirds down to Cancun for the holidays, right?”“He did and I declined.  Spending a Christmas away from my own family?  You should know me better than that, Walker.”“Christmas was almost a week ago.  Why didn’t you go down after?”I don’t think my own parents question me this much.  Who the hell does Walker think he is?“I’m so sorry I didn’t run my plans past you before I made them.  Please accept my deepest apologies.  Also, should I be checking in with you for a draw on my trust, or keep going to my father?  Not sure based on your very parental inquisition.”  In typical Maxine Gilmore fashion, I use sarcasm and wit to hide my true feelings.
Walker Weisman, my heart capturing boyfriend turned soul-crushing ex, was my once upon a time, in a land far, far away, and they lived happily ever after.  Our breakup nearly destroyed me, and I didn’t think I would ever feel that kind of hurt again, yet here I am, balling my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms to distract from the tears that want to fall.  Clearly, the tape and glue I used to fix myself once is no match for weathering the storm a second go around.
On the outside, I purse my lips and make a move flee his orbit, but Walker has no intentions of letting me go, his gravity—and the hand splayed across my back—drawing me in closer in the most un-parental display of dominance I’ve ever seen.“It’s not you I don’t want to see.  Though, it would be nice if it wasn’t in the company of my brother,” he seethes, his fingers digging into my flesh.  Opposed to melting into his touch, I fight the urge and opt for a well-executed eye roll—my new favorite form of expression.
Like my mother always said, “Any woman of wealth knows when to keep her mouth shut and let her face do the talking.”  She’d be proud tonight.“Well Walker, if you didn’t want to see me with your brother, you should have done something about it.  You’re the one who killed from whatever we could have been.  I don’t know if it was fear … duty … you weren’t feeling it … you just wanted to get laid … it doesn’t really matter, but let’s be clear about one thing.  It was your choice.”  Okay, maybe my mother wouldn’t be beaming with pride.  I tried.  That counts, right?“So, somewhere in that brilliant, sexy mind you think that after we break up, it’d be a good idea to jump in bed with my brother?  That it wouldn’t ruffle any feathers?”  Walker’s anger rolls off his shoulders in waves and his words pack a punch … straight to my gut.  “And if you want to get technical, Max, I’m not the one who ended shit.  Last I remember, you ran when shit hit the fan.”We weren’t supposed to be like this.  Sure, we fought hard, but we loved harder.  We didn’t do petty or passive aggressive.  Yet, here I am, thinking of a comeback that’ll knock the wind out of him.  How’d we get to this point?I knew what I was getting into the moment Walker slid my panties down my legs as fireworks blazed through the sky last summer.  I knew exactly who he was and what he wasn’t capable of offering as he thrust into me, making me his, if only for that one night.  I’m the idiot who let her heart get caught up in a summer fling, I get it.  Which is exactly why I vowed not to let things get weird, though sometimes it gets harder than others.
He, however, isn’t supposed to act like a jealous, entitled brat when I get the fuck over it and move on … or at least pretend.  A little pissed I start dating Wes?  Sure, I can go along with that.  But all this?  Questioning my character, demanding answers, seething, white-hot anger … Unnecessary and to be honest, pretty damn confusing.“You know what Walker, you’re right.  I’m a whore; a brother hopping, bed jumping whore.  If you’ll excuse me.”  Pushing off his chest, I’m able to confirm his suspicions before I can’t speak past the lump in my throat or see past the tears in my eyes.  No way in hell he’s getting the gratification of watching what his words do to me.Walking across the room to where I can breathe a little easier, I risk a glance over my shoulder and find Walker standing in the same spot I left him, balled fists clenched at his side, wild eyes debating between chasing me across the room to give me another tongue lashing or carting me off to the nearest confined space … to give me another kind of lashing with his skilled tongue.  I have to turn back quickly and remind myself, before I return a crazed look of my own, all but inviting him to show me what he’s thinking, my heart isn’t completely healed and can’t take another emotional hurricane. 
“Baby, what are you doing?” Wes asks, sneaking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my middle, catching me completely off guard.  His lips brush sloppily against my neck, the scent of whiskey singeing my nostrils as his words float through the air.
In any other social situation, I’d smile sweetly and bat my eyelashes while kindly, discretely moving away from his public display of affection.  Tonight, though, with Walker’s stare burning my skin I play into Wes’ embrace, hopefully to show Walker I’m not interested in taking a trip down memory’s lane.
“Going to grab another drink.  You having a good time?”“Hell yeah.  Find me at midnight, okay?”“Absolutely.”Wes isn’t a bad guy; he’s really great, actually.  One of the best I know.  Platonically, we click.  Romantically, it’s not right.  We don’t fit.
We’ve always been close, but I’ve never seen him as anything other than a friend.  Our first date should have been our last.  Actually, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.  This relationship has the capability to ruin what I’ve always considered an amazing friendship.  To further prove my point, as if my feelings aren’t enough, the reaction I have to him, to his proximity, isn’t what it should be when you’re in love.  When I walk in a room, he’s not the person I seek out … in a sea of people, much like tonight, his isn’t the first face I notice …  I don’t feel him before I see him. 
I can’t tell you if his feelings for me are genuine.  If when he sees his future, he sees me by his side.  I’m not sure if like me, he’s being a dutiful child, not wanting to disappoint his family.  I really hope that while he enjoys my company and spending time with me, if he looks in his heart he knows he’s only being a good son so when this façade implodes—because it absolutely will—our friendship won’t pay the price.
I just wish I had an inside track into the way the male brain works.  It’d sure up a lot of unanswered questions …Two of the three Weisman brothers I have down to a science.  Walker and Wren—the youngest of the trio and my very best friend—I can read like a book.  They’re predictable and reliable … for the most part.  Tonight with Walker has thrown me a little and I’m not sure what to make of it just yet.  Wes, however, he’s a tough nut to crack.  Where Walker and Wren have always made their intentions clear—no guessing to what they want—Wes is a little more calculated.  Maybe it’s the business side of his brain always at work, or he’s a little smarter, I don’t have that constant drop on him like I do his brothers.
Wren would tell me I’m pretty, and he’d mean I’m pretty.  Walker would tell me I’m brilliant, and he’d mean I’m brilliant.  Wes would pull my pigtail, and he’d mean to tell me he likes me.
Basically, Wes and straight-shooting are polar opposites.Right now, I’m just praying that Wes telling me to find him at midnight really means I can go crash in the guest room because he’s having so much fun, he won’t be upset if I’m not here to ring in the new year.  Probably not, but a girl can dream …Refusing to dwell in the land of maybes and what-ifs, I seek out Noelle and Jade and pretend like my brain isn’t running a mile a minute.  Thankfully they accept my invitation, or I’ll be surrounded by the snobs who usually show up to these things; the rich (because Daddy’s rich) and infamous (for getting trashed and acting trashy).  I swear, the best decision my parents made was allowing me to go to school in the city instead of private schools like the rest of these morons.
Trying for forget all my troubles, I throw my hands in the air, dancing without a care in the world.  My night’s starting to look up as I take to a tabletop, shaking my ass and grinding to the terrible music.
How’s this for letting my hair down and loosening up, Walker?“Yo, what time is it?” someone in the sitting-room-turned-dance-floor asks nobody in particular and nobody really answers.A few seconds later, the music’s muted, followed by some groans, until the TV comes on, the surround sound boasting the countdown.  “Twenty!” everyone yells, mirroring the numbers flashing across the screen.  “Nineteen!”Looking around, I don’t see Wes and exhale my relief.  As everyone gathers together, most coupling up, I jump off the table and slink into the dining room unnoticed.
Sixteen!”Moving further, just to hedge my bet, through the next set of double doors, I breathe a bit easier finding myself in the staff lounge.  The voices get farther away, the excitement dying down the more I get away and it feels amazing.
Nobody’ll think to look for me in here.  I may have just found the best hiding spot in the entire Weisman house.
Twelve!”“Where’s Maxine?”  Wes yells and gets a few responses, none giving up my location.“Shit,” I mutter to myself.  Of course, Wes would eventually realize I’m gone but I want a little longer.  As bad as I feel deserting Wes; him out there alone, I don’t budge.  I swallow the rest of my drink, leaving the cup on the table and jump on the countertop.  He may search, but he’s no super sleuth.  I’ll find a way to explain it later.  That is, if he remembers it tomorrow.Nine!”Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the bulletin board.  A few more seconds and clichés are tossed around like confetti; fresh starts and changes, diets and career paths. These people—most people—want to pretend life’s a storybook, as if like Cinderella, Midnight’s going to alter the course of their lives.
Auld Lang Syne, my ass.  Auld Lang Bullshit Babble’s more like it.  Maybe for them, certainly not for me.  These are my cards, and I have no choice but to play.  If they were honest with themselves, they’d realize the clock strikes twelve every single day, without fail, and if someone wants to make a significant change, they won’t need to mark it with a specific date; they’ll just do it.Six!”Surely, this will be the year the Weismans demand Wes proposes and my parents force me to accept.  There’ll be wedding planning and before I even graduate with my Bachelors, I’ll be having a bachelorette party, just in time for a June wedding … Those are the kind of changes I can look forward to …Three!”Someone pushes through the doors, their shoes smacking against the tile with purpose.  Assuming Wes found me, I keep my eyes closed, pretending to have passed out so his feelings won’t be hurt and I’ll skip the obligatory kiss.Two!”Wes doesn’t speak a word.  His hands come down on my knees, gently pushing them apart to fit his large frame between.
One!”“Happy New Year, Max.”  My eyes fly open to find mischief gleaming sexily in Walker’s.  Momentarily lost in his deep blue gaze, my breath falters and I don’t want to be anywhere but here.For the first time in forever, I’m unable to control myself.  Reaching up, I run my fingers through the barely-there scruff on his cheek, around the back of his neck and close the only space Walker hasn’t consumed, his predictable way of making me ask for what I want.  In this moment, I want him and he’s here, obviously wanting me, even if only for right now, it’s okay, seeing as I’m the one unable to offer more this time.  Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Happy New Year!!!” our friends cheer in the living room as the ball drops, signifying the start of new beginnings.  And here I am, kicking my fresh start off with a bang … in the arms of the only man to ever break my heart.  The only man with the capability of doing it again.  And I don’t care.Walker’s lips part, his tongue sliding against mine.  Moving his hands from my thighs, around to my ass and pulling me closer, if that’s possible, I keep mine firmly planted on the back of his head, holding him to me and relishing the feeling of control.  Our bodies meld together; his heart hammering against my chest, I completely give myself over to him, relinquishing my power and submitting to my wants. 
What feels like an eternity only lasts a few seconds, maybe a minute if I’m being generous.  By far, the best kiss of my life.  My greedy pants mix with Walker’s lustful groans, which only add fuel to the fire.  The only area we never had problems confirmed when I tighten my legs around his frame.
Walker’s the one who separates us—God knows it wasn’t going to be me—but lingers, not completely gone, his mouth hovering over mine.“Happy New Year,” he repeats, snaking out his tongue and licking his lips.“Right back at ya, Weisman.”  I recover and attempt to feign some indifference, but the effort’s futile … I’m not fooling anyone, especially Walker.  “God,” I whine, throwing my head against the bulletin board and shaking it slowly, irritated with my actions and inability to control myself in the one situation it should be easiest.
Instead of making fun of me, Walker takes the opportunity to graze his lips across my skin, starting at my collar bone and ending at the sensitive flesh just below my ear, where he leaves one quick kiss before whispering, “Don’t worry, Maxi I won’t tell baby brother I got you all hot and bothered, making damn sure it was me you were kissing at midnight, not him.”  The fucker winks and smirks—a deadly combination for any woman’s resolve.“What the hell’s wrong with you, Walker?  In case you missed the point earlier, you could have had me.  We didn’t have to be making out in the staff lounge, hiding from anyone or anything.  You decided that wasn’t what you wanted.  Not me.  That wasn’t my call.  You. Fucked.  It.  Up.”“If I made a mistake and want a do-over?”
“You don’t get it, do you?  You’re so used to money fixing everything, or those damn golf rules you and your dad used to joke about.  Listen, Walker, this isn’t a game.  There are no mulligans.  You’re shooting over par, Tiger.  Take the loss and deal.  It’s too damn late.  I’m not a fucking toy you want to rip out of your brother’s hand when he starts playing with it.  Act like a man and treat me like a goddamn lady.”
I hate him getting to me, and even more than that, giving him a reaction he doesn’t deserve.  Why wait until I’m kind of okay to start fucking with my head?  Who does that?“So, you’re saying I could take you?”  I can’t decide if the smug grin’s infuriating or endearing and I’m frustrated as hell trying to figure it out.
“No.  God.  What are you even talking about?” I yell, tossing a verbal flashbang into the air, directing any nearby attention to my hiding spot.
“I’m thinking if I tried to take you away from Wes, you’d come all too willing.  Am I wrong, Max?”“Yes, you’re wrong.  Dead fucking wrong.  Move.”“Not a chance in hell.  Not until you answer me, honestly.”  I hate him and his brilliant blue eyes.  I despise way his jaw ticks … his tell … knowing he’s going to get something he wants.  I loathe my inability to steer clear of him and his games.
“Come out tonight, it’ll be a blast,” they said.  All these theys … I wanna punch them all.“What?  Now, you want me?  Because you want me?  Or do you just wanna get at Wes?”When his answer’s not immediate, it hurts more than if he would have lied straight to my face.  I shove him hard enough he stumbles backward and I leap off the counter, running straight for the door.“Just don’t forget I had you first,” he says, his words loaded.As if I could forget …“And he’ll have me last,” I toss back, anger spewing off every syllable.  The first lesson they teach the pretty little rich girls who are bound to marry well … don’t just look like a bitch, be bitchy when the situation calls for it, and never let anyone think they have something to hold over your head; be the one with the leverage.Straightening my shirt and wiping the remnants of our kiss from my lips, I push open the door and run straight into a brick wall of muscle … otherwise known as my boyfriend.  “There you are, baby.  I’ve been lookin’ for you.”Before I can respond, Wes takes me in his arms and kisses me.  Stunned, I don’t kiss him back.  He’s too drunk to notice and completely misses the sharp intake of air, followed by the possessive growl from his brother.What a tangled web we weave …This is why girls should save their virginity until they’re married … not because society says so, but because it’s so much easier to not complicate life with an orgasm.  Especially when the boy you want to have sex with isn’t the same boy who you should be having sex with … see the dilemma?
Now how fast can I get out of the spider’s lair before my world implodes?  

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Sunday, November 12, 2017


Are you ready to fall in love with unconditional love?  Maybe even cry a bit?  Even more so, have a read take your breath away.

The thing about love stories is no two are the same. Some live happily ever after, others end before they really begin, and then you have Rowan and Charlotte, who fall somewhere in the middle.

How can you prepare for something you don’t see coming? What happens when your worst case scenario becomes your saving grace?

You fall back on your person—rely on their strength to get you through when nothing else seems to make sense. You tell yourself when one door closes, another opens. You remember all of your firsts which have led you to this exact point in your life.

And you dive in head first.

Click here and grab your copy FREE with your KU Subscription.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017


Guys ... since you're being patient with me during this insane transition and push back of my release date, I wanted to give you a little something to wet your whistle and remind you why it's me you love <3

This is the prologue for First of Many ... a little lead into the lives of Charlie and Rowan.  I hope you enjoy!

This is unedited and uncorrected.  I apologize for any errors in advance, but didn't want to wait to post this for those of you who are standing by me during my hectic, crazy, sometimes wacky life.  I appreciate and love each of you!

(c) 2017, Ashley Suzanne Books - First of Many

The First Step
Unlike other hospital offices, Dr. Braum’s office isn’t cold or uninviting.  It’s the exact opposite.  Pictures of his large, beautiful family surround the small area—a space with just enough room for a large oak desk, floor to ceiling bookshelves loaded with medical text and certificates of achievement, and even a sitting area near the windows.  Probably would look larger with smaller scale furniture, but it’s the perfect combination of overdone and just right.  It feels… safe.  Before finally finding Dr. Braum, we’d searched high and low, looking for the person who could help us with our needs.  It took a while—seven specialists to be exact—and it took another three months to get an appointment, but we’re here.  He’ll be able to help.  Amidst dozens of other physicians, Dr. Braum is our only shot.  Doesn’t hurt that in his reviews, he’s listed as Dr. Bruce J. Braum, MP (Miracle Performer).
As I sit nervously, my knee bouncing—probably out of socket—in the oversized plush chair, I have to redirect my attention outside, using the people milling about the courtyard to keep me from having a breakdown.  It’s not enough looking at the images of his wife and children, but seeing every single picture of smiling faces—spitting images of the man before me—realizing there are multiple generations of Braums.  It’s a happiness I’ll never achieve.  Back when we got married—started a life—it wasn’t a secret I’d never be able to conceive.  It’s been one of the toughest obstacles I’ve ever faced.  It’s my only regret, as stareg down the barrel of nearly thirty-five that I’ll never be a mother, not that it was of my own doing, or Rowan’s for that matter.  It still stings.  Every time I watch a mother pick up her child to kiss a boo-boo, or see a father tossing a ball in the front yard with his son, I long desperately for that type of love.  A love that can stand the test of time.  An unconditional, unadulterated kind of love that only a child—your child—can provide.  A legacy.
“How are you today, Charlotte?” he asks in a timbre so soothing it can ease even the most frazzled of nerves.
“Not too bad, Dr. B.  Just hoping you’ve got some good news for us,” I respond then grab onto Rowan’s hand under the edge of the desk away from the doc’s eyesight, silently praying he’s the answer to my prayers.  There aren’t words to describe how crushing it’ll be if the result isn’t in our favor. 
“You know there are other options, right?” he offers and my heart plummets.  The truth is, there aren’t other options.  We’ve exhausted them all.  He knows that.  This is our only shot—my only shot at peace.
“Dr. Braum, you know that’s not correct,” Rowan chimes in, squeezing my hand back, without words telling me he’ll take it from here.  Forever, my protector and mouthpiece when I can’t put one foot in front of the other… or keep said foot out of my mouth—he’s there.  “This is what we want.  What we need.  We’ve researched you, done our due diligence.  We know if there’s anyone to help, it’s you.  All we need is a yes from you,” Rowan pleads and I smile over at the man I fell in love with when I was just a child.  I’d gladly challenge anyone who thinks teenagers don’t know this kind of love.  Because I have the market cornered.
Over the years, not much has changed.  Other than physical appearances, he’s still the same person to his very core.  The man that’ll give me the world if he can.  Even when he can’t offer me the one thing I want more than anything else, he stands at my side and does what he can to guard my heart from any unnecessary heartbreak. 
Since the day we met, Rowan has been everything I needed him to be at the exact moment I needed it, even when I didn’t know what it was I needed.  He’s my rock, my support system, my biggest fan.  Rowan’s my everything.  Even through his fear of the unknown, he puts on a brave face, never stopping the fight for ... me.  And even here, in this doctor’s office, he’s my voice. 
“What I mean is this isn’t the only option.  I can show you other ways…”
Rowan cuts off the doctor with a quipped, “For us, it is the only way.”
“Alright then,” Dr. Braum says, hiding a smile behind his hand, obviously impressed with my husband’s insistence.  “You know the risks.  You know everything,” Dr. Braum looks over at me with sympathetic eyes, searching my soul for the answers he had to know before he agreed to take on such a momentous case.  It isn’t going to be easy, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.
“Yes, sir.  The only thing we still don’t know is when we can get started.  We’re ready,” I confirm, my voice coming out stronger than I imagined it would.  Probably Rowan again—lending me his strength.
“We’ll start by running some tests and getting full work up.  I’ll send you down to the nurse and I’ll see you two back here in a few weeks.  I’d like to give you a final answer now, but until I get a complete look at the picture with my own eyes, I’m not comfortable.  But, I will say, if everything that comes back reflects what your GYN sent over, I don’t see a problem getting right to work.”
Nodding his head, he exits the office just as quickly as he entered, leaving only Rowan and I sitting in our seats. 
“It’s really going to happen,” I say softly.  “No more waiting.”  I can’t help the smile my lips curl into.  I know it’s not set in stone, but I know no miracle’s taken place inside my body.  I’m going to get my peace.
“I love you,” Rowan whispers, squeezing onto my hand still firmly in his grasp one more time.   I can feel his nerves through the façade he’s failing to execute.  But there’s no reason for that—we’re going to be fine.
Turning my head toward him, I lean over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.  “You’ll never love me more than I love you.”  With a wicked grin, he extends a helping hand and escorts me out of the office.
Walking back out to the lobby, Rowan and I take our seats and patiently—or maybe not so patiently—wait for a nurse to call me back to begin the blood work.  It’s all fairly routine; I’ve been poked and prodded for as long as I can remember and this time is no different.  While we’re here, another couple is ushered back to the doctor’s office, and I wonder to myself if they’re here for the same reason as us.  It’s a fairly true assumption if you’re here to see Dr. Braum, you’ve reached the end of the line and he’s the only person that can do anything other than a generic ‘I’m sorry’.
What’s her diagnosis?  Were they here because of her or her husband?  Did they love each other the way Rowan and I love each other?  All of these questions race through my brain at warp speed, and they might have continued longer if the petite, blonde nurse didn’t summon for me from the opened door.
“Charlotte Thorne,” she announces in a sweet voice. 
“Right here,” I respond. 
Once inside the cramped room with barely enough for Rowan to squeeze in behind us, she directs me to a chair that much resembles one from my school aged days—the kind with the small desk attached to the metal framed chair—only the top is much smaller and has a thin cushion.  Resting my arm atop, she quickly gets to work putting the tourniquet just above my elbow and searching for a vein she can access.  I chuckle to myself and Rowan catches on—good luck with that, ma’am… if you can find one, use it, because you’re not gonna find another.
I’ve always had an aversion to needles, so out of instinct, I look away as she pulls out the thin butterfly style needle, stopping my laughter.  I instantly catch Rowan’s kind, empathetic smile.  He sees my anxiety clear as day.  With one hand, he takes mine and rubs small strokes over my knuckles.  The other he places over my shaking leg, giving it a light squeeze.  Through all this, his eyes hold mine, the blue ring around light brown reminding me of the muddy waters of my favorite spot, I calm almost instantly.
“It’ll be fine,” he reassures me and I nod my head and at the same time squinting my eyes as the needle makes contact.  Suddenly feeling hot and flushed I grip onto him tighter and in a sweet maneuver, he crouches down to my level and brushes the stray hairs away from my face.
“What was your first happy memory?” he asks, attempting to distract me so I don’t pass out.
“My first happy memory in general, or my first one with you?”
“Always with the questions,” he chuckles.  “Both.”
“I was five, I think.  My mom had taken me to visit my aunt and she had horses.  A few of them.  I remember thinking they were magical, like unicorns.  My uncle took me for a ride.”  My gaze drifts off into space, as if I’m seeing the memory come to life.  “It was the greatest experience.  It was like my uncle and the horse were in sync and could reach each other’s mind.  Since that day, I’ve always been fascinated by them.”
“I remember,” he whispers.  “All those horse posters all over your walls.  Why’d you never take riding lessons?  I bet you would have been amazing.”
“Probably,” I answer, not so modestly.  “But after they passed away, it seemed like my love for riding, not the love for the animal, had died with them.  It was our special thing.  I only wanted that with them.  Does that make sense?”
“Perfect sense.” Rowan smiles.  “Now how about your first happy memory with me.  When was that?”
“It was the moment I fell in love with you.  I knew you were it for me.”
“You couldn’t have possibly known that back then, Charlie.  There’s no way.”
“Pinky promise.  I was seventeen and my world started and stopped with you Rowan Thorne.  You were every wish I made on every star, and every dream I’d ever dreamt.  You were it.”
“We’re all done here,” the nurse interrupts, placing a cotton ball in the crease of my elbow.  “If you’ll have a seat in the waiting room, the doctor needs to speak with you again before you leave.”
“Okay, thank you.”  I hold my arm close to my chest and again smile at the woman.  Or maybe girl.  She can’t be more than twenty-one, twenty-two tops.  Oh to be that young...  Then again, when I was her age, I was married to the man I love and there wasn’t anything that could have made me happier. 
My life to this point has been nothing short of spectacular.  I’ve had extreme highs and the lows to match.  I’ve experienced extraordinary amounts love.  I found my soulmate before I even really knew what one was.  I have everything any woman could ever dream of, and after my next appointment, I just know I’ll have the answers to the only thing standing in my way of a perfect life. 
But … how the hell did we get to this point?

Sunday, August 27, 2017


 Coming September 26, 2017, Ashley Suzanne releases her new, stand-alone, full length novel that'll give you all the feels.  You'll experience the ups and downs, ins and outs and remember what it was like to experience love for the first time.  

You only get a first once in your life ... first love, first fight, first child, first time ... and those feelings are something we've all had, but lost somewhere along the way.  

Join me, along with Charlie and Rowan, to bring all that back in a novel.  Join me on the journey of Charlie's life, struggles, happiness, rock bottom and uprising.  

The thing about love stories is no two are the same. Some live happily ever after, others end before they really begin, and then there’s Rowan and Charlotte, who fall somewhere in the middle.

How can you prepare for something you don’t see coming? What happens when your worst case scenario becomes your saving grace?

You fall back on your person. Rely on their strength to get you through when nothing else seems to make sense. You tell yourself when one door closes, another opens. You remember all of your firsts that have led you to this exact point in your life.

And you dive in head first.

Pre-Order with special introductory pre-order price (will raise to $3.99 post release week)

If you'd like to have the chance to be chosen to receive an ARC copy, please fill out the following form for consideration -

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Tuesday, June 20, 2017


S.E. Hall and Ashley Suzanne debut their co-writing venture with a hot and steamy story that's sure to wet the driest of whistles!!! Come check out Accidentally on Purpose and prepare yourself for the amazingness this pair has coming!! After a business conference, Jameson Chancellor, CEO of Chancellor Chemicals, opts for a road trip versus plane ride home... enjoying the prolonged company of his personal assistant, Brenna Dillinger. When a freak, weather-related accident traps the pair together overnight, in very close quarters, long-hidden feelings and desires emerge. Professional lines are crossed, relationships blurred... and windows fogged. A perfect pair forced together... accidentally on purpose.