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Friday, April 7, 2017

✯BOOK BLITZ:✯ The Guru by Aubrey Parker {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}

The Guru by Aubrey Parker

Release Date: April 3rd 2017
Series: Trillionaire Boys’ Club #5
Genres: New Adult, Romance

The Syndicate’s plans are finally made. Everything’s been building to THE GURU.

Anthony Ross is larger than life: tall and handsome, strong in body, mind, and vision. I’ve always believed what my friend Jamie says: what Anthony does onstage isn’t an act. One day, he’ll change the world.

Jamie would know. Anthony is like a father to her. It’s just one reason my crush on Anthony can come to nothing … even after we cross the line, and it starts to become something.

But now I know what the Trillionaire Boys’ Club’s plan is for Anthony, and I can’t be selfish. He doesn’t have time for relationships, now more than ever. He can’t be distracted.

The whole world needs him. I can’t keep him just for me.

Anthony has to choose between me and his mission — but I’m afraid even love isn’t stronger than destiny.

The first phase of Aubrey Parker’s Trillionaire Boys’ Club concludes with THE GURU. Don’t miss out … everything has been building to this!

Purchase: Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iTunes


“I know it’s a little embarrassing,” he says, “but let’s admit what last night was.”

“A random run-in?”

“It worked out that way, but you came looking for me. All done up. In that clingy little dress.”

“So now you’re noticing my dress?”

“Of course I’m noticing it!” He rakes his hand through his hair. “That’s half the problem.”

“What’s the other half?”

“Let’s not do this. I don’t want to upset you.”

“Look at me, Anthony! I’m already upset!”

“I need to go,” he says, looking back toward the door.

I move between him and the door. “I’m part of this now, whether you like it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe in what you do. I’m pissed off, but I don’t want you distracted because now this is my mission, too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It is the same! This matters, Anthony — you know it does.”

“Of course I do.” A new sternness enters his voice. “That’s why I can’t see you again.”

“So now we’re seeing each other?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Stop saying I know what you mean! Stop talking around it and just say what the hell is on your mind for a change!”

“Fine,” he snaps. “Last night, you came down hoping to find me because you knew I’d lost my hook-up for the night and wanted to take her place. Jamie told you I do that with women I meet on tour. I’m not ashamed of it. I don’t have time for anything complicated, or the bandwidth for distraction from what matters most, but I’m still a man and I have needs. I treat those women with respect. I’m very careful, and we both go into it knowing what it is and that it’ll never happen again.”

“And that’s what I was doing?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Coming downstairs hoping to be your one-night stand?”

“Are you really going to deny it? We both felt it when I dropped you off — the something in the air. I just thought we were both smart enough to know which lines not to cross.”

I think about denying it, but I came here for a confrontation, not more evasion. Might as well clear the air and get it over with. “Okay. Fine. That’s what it was. But as someone once said, ‘It was my choice to make, not yours.’”

“And it was my choice to be strong enough for both of us, and say no.”

I don’t know which half of his statement to be furious at first. “So I’m weak.”

Anthony exhales. He wants to be mad, but I’ve made that too hard. “Of course you’re not weak. You’re stronger than ever.”

“Good thing you were strong enough to resist my stronger than ever advances.”

“It’s not that. It’s not that you were weak. It’s that you were … influenced.”

“Because you’re so charming? Because bitches just melt into unprotesting pussy in your presence? Get over yourself, Anthony. I have a mind of my own.”

Another sigh. “I know you do. Look — I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Why not? You don’t want it to be the other way, either, apparently.” I put both hands on my hips. “But thank you. Thank you for being strong enough to say no to the question I never actually asked.”

“Your body was saying it.”

I almost want to laugh. “I see. My body. And is it saying the same thing right now?”

He looks me over — the pretentious ass actually looks me up and down. “Honestly? Yes.”

I shake my head and move to walk around him. We’re done here; I’m tired of all the bullshit.


“No. That’s enough. That’s about all I can handle.”

“Look at me.”

“I’m done looking at you.”

He takes me by the arm and turns me. I wrench away, then push against his chest.

We stare at each other.

He tries again, this time reaching for my face. I slap it away again, eyes still locked on his. I refuse to lose this staring contest.

Anthony moves toward me in one long, fast stride. I react instinctively, wanting to hit him again, but he’s suddenly too close to me. His hands are on my face. He’s holding me against him, our bodies pressed together, his lips smashed against mine. For a fraction of a second, I’m lost and floating. My arms stop trying to hit him and my mouth stops protesting. For just that blink of time, there’s bliss, and I’m somewhere else.

But then I push him away, harder this time.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What you want me to do.”

“I don’t want you to—”

He comes forward again, his hands back in place. This time I only half-protest for a couple of beats. Then my pushing hands circle his firm torso and become pulling hands, spreading open against his dress shirt, kneading, pulling his hips into mine.

We pull apart, our mouths separating. We lock eyes. There’s a small moment where I think one of us might say something — a quip from me about his failure to be strong, a protest from him about how my heat is keeping him from working — but then it pops and we’re suddenly one again, moving, undulating, pressed together from top to bottom.

He backs me up and my ass hits the table in the center of the room. His hands move lower, rubbing down my front, pawing my breasts with urgency.

Then he steps back. His lips are smeared with my lipstick. He drops his arms back, shakes off his blazer and tosses it behind me.

“Get on the floor,” he says.


“Take off your panties and get on the floor. Hurry.”


I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there. 


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