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Monday, December 28, 2015

Broken Pieces by Kelly Moore ♥ Spotlight & GIVEAWAY ♥ (Erotic Romance)

His touch is scorching hot and rough, just how I like it. It’s just sex. I don’t believe in love, but he makes me feel things I have never felt. I want to try. I want to trust him with my secrets, but there is a good chance he will leave. He will see how broken I am. He is what I need to fix the broken pieces of my heart.

At a very young age, violence and secrets forced Brogan to escape the only life she knew. Now a young woman with a good career, she hopes to finally forget her past. She is tormented by demons in her dreams, and it has threatened every sexual relationship she has ever had.
Brogan meets Kyren Nolan, a sexy ex-military man. He is a yacht builder who has made his own wealth. He knows what he wants the minute he meets Brogan. He wants her, and his first meeting with her lands him on the ground. He doesn’t take no for an answer. They start a passionate affair that turns into more. He teaches her that a gentle touch can create as much heat between them. They both struggle for control. But Kyren has his own scars and secrets. When their pasts collide, will they be able to overcome the broken pieces of both their lives together?

Copyright © 2015 Kelly Moore

Chapter 1

“Sex, sex, sex, is that all you ever think about?” My roommate’s high-pitched laughter brings my mind back to the here and now.
“What? Just because I’d like to leave my teeth marks in the pizza guy’s ass doesn’t mean I am having sex.”
“No, Brogan, it doesn’t, but you should be. Your mind is always in the gutter.”
This is true. I can’t deny that my thoughts had moved from his ass to his front. Damn it. Cadence knows me too well. We became immediate friends our first day of college. Eight years later, she’s the only person, aside from my brother Zade, whom I trust. I would give my life for either one of them.
“Cady, don’t you have anything better to do than harass me about my sex life?”
“Ha!” a snort of laughter escapes her lips. “Admittedly, you have no sex life, Brogan. That’s why we are sitting at home on a Saturday night, eating pizza and watching a chick flick. Besides, I felt the need to protect the pizza boy’s ass from your teeth.”
“I love you dearly, Cady, but why are you spending a Saturday night with me rather than with your hot-to-trot boy toy?”
“Brogan!” she yells in an irritated tone. “He’s my fiancΓ©, not just some boy toy! I swear, sometimes I don’t get you. What is it with you and your lack of belief in love? You are gorgeous, smart, funny, have a great job, mad skills, much less a body to die for. Everywhere we go, men drool all over you, and you could care less.”
“Cady, men only love what they see. They don’t see the real me. You know my shit, Cady. You know all my secrets. If you were a guy, once you got past my looks you would run too.”
“Yes, Brogan. I know your shit, and I love you anyway. Probably because of your shit and who I know you are, just as anyone would if you would give them more than a minute.”
“Love is not for me or is anything I ever want. I am glad you have Jon and that you will have your happily ever after. That is what you want and need, Cady. Not me. My only love comes from a pair of double-A batteries.”
Cady spews Coke across the room. I love embarrassing her. She’s just so innocent when it comes to sex. Her sex life with Jon is plain old vanilla. Her cell phone rings, and she’s running off to her room, giggling like a young girl in love.
My favorite movie, The Notebook, is on, but I’m not hearing any of it. I am lost in my own dark thoughts. Chills run down my spine, and I am suddenly cold, and I shudder at old ghosts.
Cady and I graduated with our bachelors in nursing at twenty-two. I continued on to be a nurse practitioner. At twenty-seven, we have both found jobs that we love. Cady works at a local hospital as a critical care nurse. I work in a plastic surgeons office three days a week in a nearby town.
We live in a small cottage on the bayside of the island of Redington, off Florida. It’s a very small town, one way in and one way out other than in a boat, which is my preferred way to travel. My first purchase when I moved here was a 26 ft. Regal with a cabin. I would have lived on it, but Cady would call me a hermit and invade my small space. Cady and Jon are getting married at the beginning of next summer and moving to Jacksonville where Jon is interning to be a cardiologist. I will probably live on my boat at that time, but for now, I’m enjoying the roominess of our cottage
Cady cries every time she thinks about leaving me and begs me to go with them. I am happy here. It’s peaceful. I have no fears, no worries, and I plan on keeping it that way. I will desperately miss her, but I will let her go.
The credits are now rolling; it’s late. I peek in on Cady, and she is curled up sound asleep. I slip into my favorite sleeping shirt and swallow an Ambien. Every night, I tell myself this will be the last night I take one, but then a wave of terror runs through me, and I willingly gulp it down. Thank God, the effects kick in quickly. I hate being alone in the dark.
I wake up with a jolt. The clock reads 3:21a.m. I am soaking wet from head to toe. My only solace, thanks to my sleeping pill, is that I don’t remember my nightmares. But I know there are demons behind my eyelids, and I shiver with the knowledge that I know what they are really about and from where they come.
I go ahead and get up. I know there will be no more sleep. I quietly slip on my running clothes and shoes, careful to not wake Cady. I grab my phone and earbuds, slip out the door, and crank up “Cruise” by Florida George Line, the remix version with Nelly.
One good thing about a small town is the safety you feel, and running this time of morning is beautiful. I run until I’m exhausted. I always stop on the beach until the sun is up. I breathe in the fresh air. It is so cathartic. Life has never been so simple, and I cherish it because I know one day everything will catch up with me, and it will all fall apart.
Chapter 2
My life is fairly routine. I work in the surgeon’s office Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I work out with a trainer four days a week. I love kickboxing and self-defense classes. Then on Thursday, I see the one person who helps me keep my ghosts at bay. I have been seeing Dr. Kohl for the past four years. His office is just across the harbor in your typical white-picket-fence office.
“Good morning, Ann.”
“Good morning, Brogan. He’s waiting for you.”
Ann has been working for Dr. Kohl since the beginning of time. She’s always mad at me because inevitable I am always late. Secretly, I think I’m late on purpose just to see her face crunch up like a prune in frustration.
Walking in, my mind floats to the song “Dark Side” by Kelly Clarkson. This should be my own personal anthem.
“I see you are your usual sarcastic self today, Ms. Milby,” Dr. Kohl says as he winks at me.
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint by being all nice and sweet.” He smirks at me over his glasses. “Okay, okay, okay. What bullshit would you like to pluck from my brain today, Dr. Kohl?”
“Well, I don’t know. There’s just so much bullshit in that brain of yours, it’s hard to know where to begin.”
I can’t help but laugh at him. I like him as far as shrinks go. “I would like you to figure out how I can sleep through one damn night without one fucking dream,” I shout a little too loud.
“You’re a little sweary today. Is there something else bothering you?”
“Why do you always have to act like such a shrink? Can’t you just give a fucking answer without asking another question?” I am now shouting and pacing. What’s more aggravating is that he just calmly sits there and smiles at me!
“It’s my job,” he says with a smirk and then points to the chair.
Okay, I can do this without yelling. I take in a deep breath and sit back down.
I take a moment to study him as he sips his coffee. He is attractive for an older man. I bet he was very handsome as a young man. I bet he was having a lot of sex when he was my age. “It’s the lack of sleep…and lack of sex,” I finally blurt out.
He chokes on his coffee, and the bastard just smiles at me. Damn, he has a pretty smile. Cady is right. I do have a one-track mind. Focus, focus.
“You do enjoy trying to startle me, don’t you, Ms. Milby?”
“It’s like shooting monkeys in a barrel, Dr. Kohl.” We both laugh.
“Are you still taking your Ambien?”
“Yes. I just never seem to make it through the night without waking up in a sweat and yet chilled to the bone.”
“Maybe you need to quit taking them so you can make it through your nightmares.”
“We have had this conversation multiple times, Dr. Kohl. I am just not ready. Besides, I already know the ending, and so what’s the point?”
“The point, Brogan, is to let your mind heal.”
I say nothing. I just look down at my hands that are clasped together so tightly that my fingers are turning white.
“Would you like some coffee?”
He gets up and walks over to the coffee pot. He has made me coffee so often, he doesn’t even have to ask how I like it. He really does know a lot about me, and I know so very little about him. Maybe I should turn the table and start asking him questions.
I am so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize he is standing in front of me, handing me the coffee.
“What’s going on in that head of yours today?” he says with his head tilted to one side.
I think he genuinely cares about me. But instead of giving into his concern I respond with “How much I love caffeine,” as I take a long sip of my coffee. He stares at me for a moment and then returns to his desk.
“Since you don’t want to deal with your first issue of sleep, maybe we can deal with your next issue, which I believe was sex.”
It’s my turn to spew my coffee. “You know, Dr. Kohl. You really should think about your patient’s safety before you just blurt out stuff. I could have burnt myself.” We are both laughing again.
“Well, I am glad you avoided such an injury, but quit avoiding the question.”
“I don’t recall there being a question in that.”
He draws a long deep breath in. I think he’s frustrated with me. “The question was why is having sex a problem?”
“I’m not having any. That is the problem!” Great, now I’m back to raising my voice again.
“What? What do you mean why?”
“Ms. Milby, are we having another circle day? I ask a question, you ask a question, I ask again, and you use your usual avoidance tactics shit?” He never swears at me. He’s definitely frustrated. Now he is clicking his pen. I need to give him something before that defenseless pen is broken in two. I sit straighter, unclasp my hands, and draw in much needed air.
“Okay. What was the question again? I will try not to pull my bullshit tactics,” I said, mirroring back his words.
“Sex. Why is a young beautiful girl not having sex?”
I straighten again in my chair and try to lose the blush on my cheeks.
“Umm…I would love to be having sex, it’s just that…I just like having it a certain way.” I am now a deep crimson color.
“You have peaked my curiosity, Ms. Milby. Have you created a way to have sex that the rest of us are unaware of?”
I’m struggling here and the bastard is teasing me. Grrrr. “I, umm, I like…control and I, umm, like it rough.” There I have said it. I’ve told him one of my deepest secrets. I have just realized my eyes are closed. Do I dare open my eyes to see the horror on his face or is this where he tells me that I am just completely crazy. No wonder I am not having sex. I scare men away as soon as they figure it out at least that is what’s happened in the past.
“Brogan. Brogan. Look at me.”
It is then that I realize I have been holding my breath, and I exhale loudly and gasp for air.
“Brogan, open your eyes and look at me.” He’s moved. I can feel him in front of me. He’s not touching me. He knows my boundaries, but he is very close. I peek open one eye, and yep, he is right in front of me, staring at me. Oh, this is serious. He’s removed his glasses. I open my other eye and look into his. I think I see a hint of humor. Is he laughing at my proclamation? Surely not.
“Brogan,” he says with a soft smile. “And you feel this is wrong?”
“Well, most men don’t like a woman to be in control and wanting someone to be rough. Well, it scares them away.” I close my eyes again. I just can’t look at him. I can feel the heat on my face.
“Brogan, why do you feel the need for control and pain?”
I am suddenly up on my feet. I have humiliated myself enough for one day. “That, Dr. Kohl, is a question for another day.” The reasons are just too dark.
Before I can make it to the door, he’s standing in front of it with his arms crossed. “Ms. Milby, you have been seeing me for four years now. Are you ever going to trust me to help you? If you won’t open up to me completely, how are you ever going to heal? I know bits and pieces that you have spoon-fed me. I learn more from your brother than you. And he’s so loyal to you, he doesn’t give much.”
Just the mention of my broken brother brings up unshed tears. “How is Zade?” I utter softly.
“Worried about you. He wants to see you.”
Zade is four years older than me. He is the only person that knows every detail of the horrors we lived through together. Zade had a breakdown when I went to visit him two years ago. It was too much for him. He has escaped to a little town in North Carolina, and thanks to Dr. Kohl, he is better.
“I, I can’t. I can’t risk him.” A single tear rolls down my cheek.
“He is very strong now, Brogan.”
Dr. Kohl travels once a month to see Zade. He took him under his wing the moment he met Zade, and he has treated him more like a son than a patient. I’m glad Zade has him, and the thought makes me soften toward him.
I smile. “Thanks to you, but I’m just not ready.”
“When is the last time you went on a date?”
Whoa, change of subject. “I date. I just don’t repeat date.”
“I think it’s time you try to have some sort of normal relationship with someone other than me and Cadence.”
“There is nothing normal about me. Dr. Kohl, are you dumping me?”
“Never,” he says with a grin. “You are far too entertaining for me to ever leave.”
Somehow during our conversation, he has managed to have me sitting in front of him again. I don’t remember sitting back down. “I am not normal, and I’m not lovable or worthy of anyone’s love. I have nothing to offer back to anyone. You know how much I hate affection and emotions. Does that sound remotely like someone that has anything to give?”
“We have been over this many times. I see a bright, beautiful, self-reliant, strong, and sometimes bitterly sarcastic woman. What’s not to love?” he asks with some humor in his eyes. I can’t help but playfully pout about the bitter sarcastic remark, but I laugh. “We can work through your issues if you would just let me help you.”
Help me? He is so sincere. He really thinks he can help me, and he hasn’t even seen my dark side yet. Maybe I should unleash her on him. “You can’t save me from myself,” I say a little too harshly.
“Try me.”
“Okay, you asked me about sex. How do I tell a guy I just want to tie him up, cause him a little pain, and fuck his brains out and then have him leave?”
Dr. Kohl opens his mouth to say something then shuts it. He repeats this process twice. Great! I’ve shocked my therapist!
He gathers his composure, “Well, it’s not something I would lead with, and it’s a bad pickup line.” He’s smiling. The bastard is laughing at me again!
I’m up on my feet. “That’s all you got!” I’m yelling and pacing the floor again.
Dr. Kohl gets up and stands in front of me, but he doesn’t try to comfort me.
“Look, Brogan,” I know he only uses my name when he wants to get my attention. “We can work the whys of how you feel and change the way you think about yourself. I know some of your reasons through the little that you have shared with me about your childhood, but you have to trust me to get you to a healthy state.”
I plop back into my chair, feeling a little overwhelmed by what I have shared today. He didn’t kick me out and tell me I was a freak, so maybe I could try.
“I will try.”
“Good. I want you to start that journal I have been nagging you about. Be completely honest. Nothing you write is going to chase me away. Shock me like you like to do, but not run me off.”
We end our appointment with our usual handshake and nod. This is all my comfort zone ever allows although, today, I have an urge to hug him, but I stifle it. He seems to have read my thoughts because he smiles and says,
“It’s okay. We will get there. Just trust me.”
Chapter 3
I’m tired and starving. I have forgotten to eat today, which is so not like me. I love food a little too much. I think it comes from starving in my childhood. We never knew when we would have food in our house, and even then, Zade and I had to share what little our father gave us. Thank God, I love to work out, or I would be as big as a house.
I dock my boat alongside our cottage. I can see Cady and Jon through the glass wall in the back of the cottage. Jon is here to take a much-needed week-long vacation. I see them have a tender moment and feel like I am spying. I wish I was capable of that kind of tenderness with a man. It would make my life a little less lonely.
I’m so happy for them. They met at the hospital during Jon’s clinical rotations. Jon is a fourth year intern and will finish up next year. It was love at first for both of them. At least that’s what they have both said. I’m so cynical. I don’t believe in love at first sight. For that matter, I’m not sure I believe in love at all. I will agree that they have had a fairytale romance. Jon is always doing nice things for Cady. If he wasn’t good to her, I would seriously have to hurt him.
Cady spots me through the window and comes running out and gives me a bear hug and almost knocks me over. This I allow from her even though she knows I hate it.
“I’m so going to miss you,” she says. “I wish you were coming with us to St. Thomas.”
“Cady, a threesome with the two of you will never work for me.”
Cady smacks my arm. “You are terrible,” she says, and she is instantly pink. Jon is walking up behind her, howling in laughter. She turns into his arms. “You, mister, don’t encourage her filthy mind.”
Jon tries to be serious with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Seriously, Brogan, I will miss you and your taunting of Cady, but you are not invited to come along on our vanilla weekend as you call it.” Cady is red from the neck up.
“You two are incorrigible,” she says, laughing.
“You two go before you miss your plane.”
“Will you be okay?” Cady asks quietly.
“I’m fine. If I have any problems, there is always good ole Dr. Kohl. You know I can take care of myself.”
“I know.” Cady sniffles. “I just worry about you.”
“No worries. Go and have fun on your vanilla week.” She hugs me again and then they are off.
Chapter 4
It’s Saturday, and there’s an annual seafood festival down at a place called John’s Pass. There are shops and restaurants overlooking the bay. White tents are scattered along the waterway. There are at least a hundred boats off the shoreline. There is a long wooden walk with a dock leading into the water that is set up with a dance floor and a band. Being a small town, most every face is familiar except for a few tourists.
“Nice night out, Mrs. Jones.”
“Hi, sweetie. Do you want your usual mint Oreo cookie ice
“Yes, please, but make it a large,” I reply with a huge grin.
“Do you ever order any other size?” she says with a laugh.
Mrs. Jones and her husband have owned the local creamery since the beginning of time. They are the cutest little couple. They are in their eighties and still hold hands, and he steals a kiss from her every time I see them together. He says it’s his “sugar” that’s kept them together all these years. Mrs. Jones still blushes every time he steals his kiss.
“Here you go, sweetie.” She hands me an overflowing cup of ice cream. “Now get out on that dance floor. I know my Joey would love to dance with you like all the other men.”
Joey is her grandson she has repeatedly set me up with. Nice guy, just too nice for me. We hooked up one night when I had a little too much to drink and feeling a little too lonely. He was trying to be so gentle and sweet, and I tried to take the lead, and it scared him off. We never talked about it, but he is always such a gentleman when he sees me.
The fall night is so beautiful and the seafood is to die for. I hear the band playing a Kenny Chesney song, “Pirate Flag.” I always want to change the words to “pirate boy” and “island flag.” I am staring out over the pass, lost in the music.
“Excuse me. Would you like to dance?”
I turn around to find the most beautiful pair of pale blue eyes I have ever seen. It takes my breath and evidently my voice away. I don’t know this man, but I’m drawn to him like a magnet. He has touched something inside me that I am unfamiliar with. I’m fairly tall at 5’11”, but he stands above me a good four inches. He has wavy jet-black hair that curls down his neck, and a body that looks rock hard in his jeans, tight wifebeater shirt and cowboy boots.
I come out of my daze when he places his hand gently on my elbow. I quickly pull away and frown up at him. He is still just standing in front of me, staring with a stupid grin on his face.
“What?” I say a little too harshly. His grin is replaced with
Oh, I had been so distracted by him, I forgot that he even asked me to dance. “Um…no. I’m eating my ice cream” I said as the sweet drips down my hand. Jeeze, am I crazy? What a lame thing to say. He is the first man I have ever been drawn to, and I turn down his dance offer.
“I could lick it up for you,” he says with a wickedly radiant smile.
I can’t help but laugh. It sounds like something I would say. “I don’t dance with strange men or let them lick my ice cream or even share my ice cream for that matter.”
“What?” I asked, totally confused.
“Name.” He is still just smiling at me.
“Oh, is that short for something? And do you only have a first name? A true gentleman would have formally introduced himself before he offered to lick my ice cream,” I say, teasing him.
“Kyren, and it you want a last name, that deserves a lick of that ice cream that is melting all over your gorgeous hand,” he says, laughing.
“I have already told you I don’t share ice cream. It is way too
“Do you have a name, or should I just call you ice cream girl.”
My mind is going there. I just can’t help it, but my only response is that “As long as it’s not vanilla, I’m good with that.”
Then I see a spark of color change in those pale blue eyes. His pupils dilate, and I take a sharp intake of much needed air. He is no vanilla. I am instantly wet. That has never happened.
“Brogan,” I whisper.
“Brogan,” he says in a raspy voice. It’s not a question. It’s like he is soaking it in. It is such a turn on.
“Okay, Brogan that doesn’t like vanilla, can we dance now?”
He holds out his hand, and so unlike me, I take it and follow him to the dance floor. Thank God the band has changed to an upbeat song by Hinder. He can really move. He turns, and I get a glimpse of his ass in his nicely fitting blue jeans. Holy cow! He is hot, and I can’t help but think about my conversation with Cady about leaving teeth marks in the pizza boy’s ass. It makes me giggle. He is fuckin perfect. He catches me looking down at all his manly parts, and I can’t help but blush.
“That is a purely heavenly sound,” he says, smiling.
“Yeah, the band is awesome.”
“Not the band, Brogan, your laughter. You have a great laugh.” The way he says my name makes me wet again, damn it.
“Well, you have a great ass.”
“Do I now?” He is smirking at me. Bastard.
I am now happy about my choice to wear a short, flowing skirt. Two can play at his game. I really start to move, shaking my ass purposely, making sure my skirt flips up every now and then, giving him a glimpse of my long, lean legs. Even though the music is playing loudly, he stands stock still, watching me. His eyes are now a dark shade of blue. They are consumed by the dilation of his pupils, like he is soaking me all in.
I continue to dance around him, bumping up against him with each turn. This is fun. Suddenly, as I turn behind him, he grabs my hands and spins me around and pins my hands behind my back. I am so turned on and breathing really hard. I think he is going to kiss me, but instead, he releases my hands and gently rubs his hand down my face to my shoulder.
End of this sample Kindle book.


Hi my name is Kelly Moore and I am Southern girl raised in Florida. I am a registered nurse actually an ICU traveling nurse, wife, mother of two children and I have three grandchildren. I have always been an avid reader and kept journals. Until Broken Pieces, I never had the courage to attempt an erotic romance book and submit it for publishing. I tend to embrace the brokenness in all of us. It makes us who we are. I love to see people come out strong and win against past pains.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing the story…….


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  1. I love the cover and this sounds like an excellent group - thanks for sharing!

  2. Sounds like a great story with a character deeply haunted by her past, needing to confront her demons.

  3. I liked the excerpt, thank you.

  4. I really liked the excerpt of Broken Pieces and the description sounds like something I would enjoy.

  5. The summary hooked me immediately! Added it to my to-read list. :)

  6. This story sounds very intriguing and is definitely the kind of book I love to read! Thanks for sharing this! Added to my tbr.

  7. Sounds like a tale of violent passions run up against paralyzing doubts. I'm up for it.

  8. Very intriguing cover!

  9. Can't wait to read this! :)


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