I am SO excited to be sharing with you guys an exclusive excerpt from M. Leighton's upcoming release, Levi's Blue. I'm a HUGE fan of this author and can't wait to get started on this book. Mark you calendars for September 19th and continue below to enjoy an early look at Levi's Blue.
Four beautiful days. Three steamy nights. One breathtaking love.
Levi Michaelson. He caught me when I fell. Literally.
He wanted four dates. Four opportunities to prove I could trust him. Four chances to change my mind about him.
Probably not my smartest decision. He was everything I knew to avoid—gorgeous, charming, sexy as hell—but I couldn’t help myself. When he touched me the whole world disappeared. I should’ve known I could lose myself to him, that he could be the one man to destroy me.
I guess it’s true what they say—some things are too good to be true. And Levi Michaelson might just be one of them.
Releases: September 19, 2016
About M. Leighton:
M. Leighton is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Wild Ones and The Bad Boys romance trilogies. She is a native of Ohio, relocated to the warmer climates of the South, where she lets her mind wander to romantic settings with sexy Southern guys much like the one she married and the ones you'll find in her latest books. When her thoughts aren't roaming in that direction, she'll be riding horses, swimming in ponds and experiencing life on a ranch, all without leaving the cozy comfort of her office.
To find more of M. Leighton's books, visit her Amazon Author Page.
I don’t know how long after that it is that I hear someone else at the door. Not a single word is spoken. It doesn’t have to be. The instant he clears his throat, I feel his presence. It’s like static. Warm, frenetic static that teases my senses and sets my nerves on edge.
Slowly, I turn on my stool to face the door. My belly flutters violently. I’m hyperaware of what I’m wearing.
And what I’m not.
His tone is low, a gruff rumble in the darkness of my world. “If I could paint, this is what I would paint.”
My stomach flips over at the sound of his scratchy, softly spoken words.
“You. I’d paint you. Just like this. Sitting in the dark, wearing a T-shirt and socks, hands covered in paint, hair wild and messy.”
“Because you look like art. Beautiful, brilliant, chaotic art.”
I would laugh, but I can’t. I’m breathless. Spellbound. I feel his words like touches, like brushstrokes. And he paints me with them, syllable by syllable.