"This collection of novellas is as scorchingly hot as the first installments in the Courtesans series."
Reviewed by Mandy Burns
Posted January 6, 2011
Romance Erotica Sensual
THE ONLY WAY OUT: Mac Dawson promised his brother he
would take care of his sister-in-law Dani after his death.
During those last few weeks, Mac and Dani became very
close, but since his brother's death, Dani has shut Mac out
of her life. Mac is taken by surprise to find Dani going
out on a date so soon after losing her husband, quickly
learning that Dani is working as a courtesan to pay for the
debt she is in from medical bills and a failing company.
The only way Mac can help Dani is to take over her
husband's role while she works, causing sparks to fly and
desire to spiral out of control. THE WRONG KIND OF MAN: Cleo Carpenter is doing all
she can to provide for herself by working as a waitress.
Cleo refuses to allow another man into her inner circle,
denying herself the pleasure of a man. All they do is
disappoint not only Cleo, but her daughter, as well. Cleo
watches Walker Randall, a regular at her trendy restaurant,
being stood up by his date. When he asks her to the movies,
Cleo is reluctant, but decides to go anyway. Cleo and
Walker get along extremely well, but before their
relationship goes any further, Cleo must except Will's
profession as a courtesan. NO SECOND CHANCES: Isabel has made a life for
herself as the madam of Courtesans, a elite escort service
that caters to pleasure. Isabel ran from her hometown in
Oklahoma and a broken heart, only to find a lasting
profession she has excelled at. But it never prepared her
for seeing Royce Harmon again, the man who broke her heart
all those years ago. Royce once again finds a way to be in
her life, unfortunately some things never change. Royce is
sure to be just as ashamed to have a madam as a girlfriend
as an adult as he was to have a trailer trash girlfriend as
a teenager. Isabel is unsure how they can move into the
future and decides to take Royce however she can have him. MINE UNTIL MORNING is the 3rd book in the Courtesans
series, which is as promising as the first two with
scorching hot scenes that burn up the pages. I absolutely
love it!
SUMMARY
Jasmine Haynes completes her Courtesan trilogy with three
sensuous stories that prove one good night can last a
lifetime… In “The Only Way Out,” Mac Dawson is determined to look
after his widowed sister-in-law…who just happens to lead a
secret life as a courtesan. He can’t stop her, but with a
little help from Madam Isabel, he’ll make sure her secret
is safe. But can he find a way to make sure he’s the only
man to share her bed? Cleo thought her luck with men had finally changed, but
when she discovers that Walker Randall is a paid
courtesan, she feels doomed to always meet “The Wrong Kind
of Man.” Will Walker change his lifestyle…or simply teach
Cleo how right a courtesan can be? Isabel, Madam of Courtesans, has seen it all…but she never
thought she’d see Royce again. He was the love of her
life, and now he wants to be with her, hot and happily
ever after. Can he handle knowing that Isabel is not only
a madam, but a courtesan herself—or are there really “No
Second Chances?”
ExcerptMine Until Morning
Courtesans Tales 3The Only Way Out Dani Dawson was drowning. Every time she thought she had a
handle on the bills, she’d find another unexpected
statement in the mailbox. The vultures had swooped down on
her before Kern was even cold in the ground, and the
balance in the checking account was a mere one hundred
forty dollars and change. The walls of her sunflower yellow kitchen closed in on
her. The burn in her belly had risen to her chest. If
she’d been a crying person, she would have laid her head
on the kitchen table littered with unpaid bills and let
loose an ocean of tears; for herself, for Kern, for all
his pain, his dying, everything they’d lost. She’d
scattered Kern’s ashes a week ago, on a September day too
bright for mourning. Now she missed him like hell. But Dani was long over the tears. Instead, she picked up
her cell phone. Kern would understand what she had to do.
She hit a speed dial. Isabel answered on the second ring. “How are you doing,
kiddo?” “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Dani forced cheer into her
voice. “I could really use a date tonight if you can whip
up something fast.” Isabel gave a full five-second pause, an eternity. “You
know, Dani, you can give it a little bit more time.” Dani swallowed, her eyes aching, but she gritted her
teeth. She had to get through this. She’d cried in the
early days, when they’d first learned about Kern’s cancer.
She’d never let him see her tears. She’d been strong and
stoic for him in the ensuing year of treatments that
didn’t work, mounting medical bills, and the rising fear
that he might actually die. Six months ago, when the
cancer spread to his kidneys, she’d finally broken down,
but not in front of him. No, she’d reserved that
mortifying moment for Kern’s brother, Mac. He’d been kind,
comforting, but that was the last time she’d lost a grip
on herself. She hadn’t cried the day they’d decided to
bring hospice into the house—Kern hadn’t wanted to die in
a hospital—or ten days ago when he passed away. Not even
when she and Mac had flown out over the ocean on that
bright and sunny day and let Kern’s ashes blow to the four
winds. She would not do it now. If she started, she would never
stop. “Isabel, I appreciate your concern. It’s very sweet. But
I’m fine. The hard part is over. I’m glad he isn’t
suffering anymore. Kern would want me to move on.” God,
that seemed pathetically justifying. “And I need the
money.” Oddly, the truth sounded better. “Dani, honey, I can help out—” “Please, Isabel.” God, no. She didn’t want charity. She’d
never lied. Isabel always knew it was about the money.
Sure, Dani loved sex, and it was a kick to get paid for
it, but she’d only become a courtesan when the money dried
up and the medical expenses didn’t. When they were doing
well financially, they’d occasionally splurged, using
Isabel’s special agency for a little variety. Dani’s sex
drive had always burned a few degrees hotter than Kern’s,
but he loved to watch. They’d made the decision together that working for Isabel
and Courtesans was the perfect solution. Isabel had been
more than willing to help, of course. “Call it a loan, Dani.” Dani snorted. “I owe too much money already.” She massaged
a temple. “I’m really okay with this. If you can find one
of my regulars, great. But someone new, that’ll work,
too.” Yeah, she was getting desperate. She hoped it didn’t
show in her voice. She would get through this difficult
time. And she would do it alone. Kern would have hated
anyone knowing how bad things had gotten for them. His
biggest fear had been Mac finding out how they’d screwed
up. Five years younger than his brother, Kern never felt
he measured up. Aw hell, why not admit the truth? She was not going to
lean on Isabel or Mac to get her through. She wouldn’t
depend on anyone. She’d let Kern make far too many
decisions, and look where it had gotten her. She wasn’t
about to give up her autonomy again. Besides, this was just sex, and she loved sex. It might be
the only way out, but it wasn’t such a bad way. “I don’t want to see you push yourself too quickly,
sweetie,” Isabel said. “You’ve been through something
terribly traumatic.” “I know that.” Dani’s voice quavered. It was all she could
do to stuff the emotion back down. “But I”—suddenly
starving for air, she gulped a breath—“I really need this.
I—I just need it. Please.” It was almost begging. “If it’s
someone I haven’t been with before, could you make sure
they’re okay with cash?” Many clients paid in gifts: jewelry, artwork, trips. Dani
worked on a strictly cash basis. She had no set price. It
depended upon the patron and what they wanted, but Isabel
didn’t cater to an overly thrifty clientele. Isabel sighed. “All right, you win. Let me see what we’ve
got going. Will tomorrow night work, too?” “Yes,” Dani answered, feeling a small surge of relief.
Tonight, tomorrow night, every night until she could get
out from under this weight. “Thanks.” “If you need to talk,” Isabel added, “I’m always here for
you.” Isabel was one of the few people who knew the true toll
Kern’s illness had taken on her. “I appreciate it, but I’m
fine, honestly. I’ll get through this.” “I know you will. You were always the strong one. But you
don’t have to do it all alone.” Yes, she did. Isabel knew that, too, because she was the
same way. “Thanks. I’ll wait to hear back.” Hanging up, Dani didn’t feel so strong now. In the
beginning, getting paid for sex had been a unique thrill.
Kern had gotten off on it, too. But the massive financial
crisis she found herself in had stolen the fun out of it.
Not to mention the fact that she and Kern had always
enjoyed talking about it afterward, giving her a second
high out of it. It wouldn’t be the same doing it all
alone, but whatever. Taking care of some of these bills
and getting back on her feet was all that mattered for the
time being. She and Kern had made some bad choices. She couldn’t blame
him; she’d agreed to everything, starting the business,
canceling the life insurance, the shitty medical plan.
Yeah, when you’re in your mid-thirties, healthy and happy,
you don’t think about dying. You think you’ve got years to
accomplish anything you want. Until the day some doctor
says you’ve got only a few months left to live. Water under the bridge. Right now, she needed Isabel to
find her a date. After a long day at the office, McKinley Dawson pulled
into the circular driveway of his brother’s house. His
heart hurt simply looking at the familiar wood siding and
manicured bushes. He wondered how long it would be before
he stopped seeing Kern’s emaciated, ravaged body and could
remember him the way he used to be. God, he missed him.
They’d lost their parents years ago, their dad to a heart
attack and Mom to breast cancer. He’d never expected to
lose Kern so soon. At thirty-nine, Kern had been five
years younger than Mac, for God’s sake. It didn’t seem
possible. Or fair. Now Kern had tasked him with taking care of his wife. Dani
was tough. Amazing, in fact, with the way she’d handled
everything. In the eighteen-month battle she and Kern had
fought with his cancer, Mac had seen only one crack in her
facade. She’d shored it up quickly, and he still saw her
as the last woman who would need taking care of. He’d made
that deathbed promise, however, and dammit, he was here to
make sure she had whatever she needed. Standing on the pebbled front stoop, he could hear the
doorbell echoing through the house. The two weeks before
Kern’s death, when things got really bad, he and Dani had
shared caring for him, with hospice aides coming in twice
a day. He hadn’t rung the doorbell then. He’d simply
walked in. In the evenings, after a grueling day that had
seemed to last forever, while Kern slept, Mac and Dani
shared a bottle of wine, talk, a movie. They’d watched
Young Frankenstein, and he remembered laughing
hysterically, followed by the stab of guilt at being
capable of laughter. The last couple of days, after Kern
fell into the coma, he’d spent the night so Dani wouldn’t
be alone if . . . when . . . For those two weeks, he’d felt closer to her than to any
other human being, even Kern. He couldn’t adequately
express how much it meant that she hadn’t hesitated to
allow him those last few precious days with his brother.
Some people never got to say good-bye. Then Kern was gone,
his ashes scattered, and she’d slammed the metaphorical
door in Mac’s face. Inside, he heard her shoes on the tile entry hall. The
door swung open. “You’re early. I’m not quite ready.” She glanced up,
fastening an earring in her lobe, and stopped, her lips
parted as if she’d been about to add something. Holy hell. She wore a short black cocktail dress, the deep scoop of
the neckline barely covering her nipples. In sheer black
stockings and fuck-me high heels, her legs were miles
long. Statuesque when barefoot, with the heels and
standing a step up from him in the front hall, she was
actually taller than his own six-two. Her auburn hair
curled about her shoulders like a wave, and her lips were
painted a deep, luscious red. Christ, she smelled good. Something subtly sweet and
exotic like the bottled scent of feminine arousal. The hall clock started to chime. Behind him, a car pulled
into the opposite end of the circular drive, a long black
sedan. She had a date. Kern hadn’t been dead two weeks, and she
had a fucking date. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were going out.” He couldn’t get
the hell away fast enough. What the fuck? He needed time
to think before he said something he’d regret. So he left her with the entry light shining down on her
burnished hair. She still hadn’t said a word. As he pulled
away, in his rearview mirror he saw a man climb out of the
car, tall, black suit. Had she been cheating on Kern while he lay dying? Mac’s
head whirled with a load of shitty thoughts. That bitch.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his
knuckles turned white. She didn’t need him to fucking take care of her. She’d
already had someone on the side. His blood raced in his ears, and he wanted to pound
something. Passing through a green light, the bright neon
of a bar sign flashed from the street corner, and Mac
pulled into the parking lot. He needed a drink. It felt as if he had to pry his stiff fingers off the
steering wheel. All he could hear was Kern’s voice in his
head. I fucked up so bad, man. In a rare moment of lucidity, before he succumbed to the
coma, Kern had gripped Mac’s hand. Dani was out getting
groceries, and to grab a breath of fresh air away from
Kern’s sickroom. Mac had thought she needed it. While he
spent as much time as he could, she’d borne the brunt of
taking care of Kern. “You didn’t fuck up,” Mac had told his brother. Moisture trickled from Kern’s left eye, but not his right.
Mac’s guts twisted as he wiped it away. “I did, man, screwed up real bad. You don’t know. I was a
bad husband. I let her down in so many ways. Now I’m dying
on her.” They’d had the storybook marriage; they were happy. Until
Kern got sick. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t help it.” Kern shook his head. “You don’t know what she’s done for
me. You don’t know what I’ve put her through. It’s all my
fault.” He dropped back against the pillow, his face going
completely slack, eyelids drooping. Chest tight, a knot in his throat, Mac put two fingers to
Kern’s wrist. It seemed like an eternity before he found a
pulse. Kern opened his eyes and spoke as if the moment hadn’t
happened. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.” “Of course.” Though Mac knew Dani wouldn’t need it. She
was strong. Kern clutched his hand, squeezing with more vigor than Mac
would have thought possible. “Don’t tell her I’m saying any of this, okay? She’ll kill
me if she knew.” Kern laughed, then lapsed into a choking
cough, his throat rattling. He sucked on the straw Mac
held out, his lips dry and cracked despite the Vaseline
Mac had rubbed in only a short time ago. “Joke’s on me, I guess.” Kern drew in a deep
breath. “Where’s my cell phone?” “Right here, buddy.” On the bedside table along with
Kern’s watch, wallet, and keys. As if one of these days he
was going to get up out of the hospital bed hospice had
brought to the house for him. “Take it, man. After I’m gone, let her get settled a bit,
then call the first number on speed dial.” “Sure. What’ll I say?” “Just say you’re my brother, and that you want to help
Dani.” “I will.” Mac agreed to everything to ease his brother’s
worry. “She’s gonna hate it when she knows I told you. But don’t
let that stop you, okay?” “I won’t.” Though Kern hadn’t told him a damn thing. Mac
still didn’t know why Kern thought he’d fucked up, what he
believed Mac could do for Dani by calling a number, or how
the hell long he was supposed to wait to let her “get
settled.” That night, Kern lapsed into a coma. He never came out of
it. Two days later, he was gone. Dani never asked where
his cell phone was. Sitting in the bar’s parking lot, the neon sign flashing
on, off, Mac experienced the rush of revelation. He didn’t know where she was going tonight or who the guy
driving the car was, but he knew one thing. She’d loved
Kern. She’d gone through eighteen months of hell, spent
hours at his bedside, soothed his brow, cleaned him, held
the tissues as he coughed up phlegm, and so much more. She
wouldn’t have cheated on him. There had to be another
explanation. Something to do with the phone number Kern
had wanted Mac to use. It was time to make that call.
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