From New York Times bestselling author Laura Kaye, comes the first standalone title in her brand, new Warrior Fight Club series, FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING. Get your copy of FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING, and join the Warrior Fight Club world today!

About FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING (Warrior Fight Club #1, 5/22/18):

Loving her is the biggest fight of his life…

Home from the Marines, Noah Cortez has a secret he doesn’t want his oldest friend, Kristina Moore, to know. It kills him to push her away, especially when he’s noticing just how sexy and confident she’s become in his absence. But, angry and full of fight, he’s not the same man anymore either. Which is why Warrior Fight Club sounds so good.

Kristina loves teaching, but she wants more out of life. She wants Noah—the boy she’s crushed on and waited for. Except Noah is all man now—in ways both oh so good and troubling, too. Still, she wants who he’s become—every war-hardened inch. And when they finally stop fighting their attraction, it’s everything Kristina never dared hope for.

But Noah is secretly spiraling, and when he lashes out, it threatens what he and Kristina have found. The brotherhood of the fight club helps him confront his demons, but only Noah can convince the woman he loves that he’s finally ready to fight for everything.

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“The always amazing Kaye is kicking off a terrific new contemporary romance series that centers around a wounded warrior’s fight club. Kaye does a beautiful job exploring the fallout from war and PTSD as various characters struggle to cope in their own ways. The love story between Noah Cortez and his childhood friend Kristina Moore is both compelling and touching, for the obstacles in their way loom large. A truly memorable read!” ~ RT Book Reviews

EXCERPT: "Noah, are you down here?" Kristina called from the top of the basement steps.

Despite the lack of response, she continued down and crossed the room to the mostly closed door in the back corner--Noah's bedroom since he'd returned just before last Christmas. God, Kristina had thought she'd received the best Christmas present ever--Noah, home from Iraq, safe and sound.

Well, mostly sound, anyway. An IED blast had taken the hearing and most of his vision on his left side, and he'd struggled with bad migraines and equilibrium problems when he'd first returned. But he was home and he was alive, and having him back again had made it feel like she could finally breathe after years of knowing he was in danger every second of every day.

She knocked softly. "Hey Noah, it's me."

All she heard was a long exhale of breath, but it was enough.

Why hadn't he answered her? Her stomach clenched as she pushed open the door far enough to see Noah standing in the dark doorway to his bathroom, his back against the door jamb, his arms crossed, and his head hanging on his big shoulders.

She didn't need to ask if he was okay, because he was radiating not okay loud and clear. Kristina walked right up to him. "What's going on?" she asked. Dim light from the rec room filtered over him, allowing her to just make out the tight clench of his square jaw, the narrowed cast of his dark brown eyes, the harsh set of his beautiful mouth.

Wait. What? Where had that little observation come from?

Noah shook his head, forcing Kristina to drop the ridiculous line of thought.

She stepped closer so that she could look more directly into his eyes. "Come on, Noah. It's me." She ached for him to open up, but what she noticed even more was the low buzz rushing through her body. From how close she stood to all his taut hardness. It wasn't like she was just noticing that Noah was hot, like, dayum hot, but nearly five years in the Marines had matured him and built hard muscle that hadn't been there before. And clearly her body was just noticing, probably because they hadn't had the chance to spend much time together since he'd gotten back.

"Kristina," he said, his voice so low it was nearly a whisper, or a plea. He leaned his forehead against hers. It was such a sweet, needful gesture that Kristina's chest seized.

"First, I'm hugging you. Then we're talking, buddy," she said, wrapping her arms around his big shoulders and planting her cheek against his chest. The embrace wasn't unusual-they'd always been affectionate with each other. She'd lay against him while they watched a movie or he'd sling an arm over her shoulders while they were out together. When things were bad with her dad, he'd hold her when she finally gave into her grief about it and cried. That's how they'd always been.

He embraced her right back and leaned his face against her hair.

After a long moment, Kristina pulled away--

Noah wouldn't let her go. His grip on her tightened, and he held her fast against him. Was he breathing faster? Was he trembling?

Against her belly, he hardened.

Kristina's breath caught in her throat. Noah was aroused...by her? Or just, like, in her general vicinity? Or...? She swallowed hard as her thoughts flew.

As they stood there, suspended in the dark, stolen moment, the air around them flashed hot and closed in, narrowing the world to all the places their bodies touched. His erection grew, pressing against her with more insistence. Heat bloomed over her skin everywhere and she held herself perfectly still. Because this was different. This was not friendly. This was more.

A strange tension wrapped around them, and it scared and attracted Kristina in equal measure. She shuddered out a breath as her body came to life against his. Her breathing quickened, her nipples peaked, her core clenched.

Noah made a noise in the back of his throat like a moan, and his arms tightened around her, pulling their bodies totally flush.

Kristina's breath caught at the hard press of his body and at the shocking arousal it unleashed in her.

This is Noah. This is Noah. This is Noah.

But it didn't seem to matter to her body. The soft cotton of her dress became heavy and irritating against her skin, and all she wanted was for it to be off. So he could be all over her. This sudden, intoxicating need was brand new to her-in general and certainly with Noah. She wasn't a virgin, but she'd never felt with another man the kind of desire rocketing through her just then. And all they'd done was touch.

Why was this happening?

Her hips shifted without her meaning to do it, and it made her belly grind against all that hardness.

Noah hissed in her ear. His fingertips dug into her back...and then wandered, one hand pressing low against her hip, one skimming up her neck into her hair. Holding her tight. Bringing her closer.

She was half sure she was imagining that they were locked inside this raging bubble of attraction, except that his heart thundered beneath where her head rested, his breathing had gone rough, and his skin felt every bit as feverish as hers.

She had to stop this...whatever this was.

Tilting her head back, the words were on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes locked with his, and even in the dimness she could see that they were blazing hot and almost predatory in their directness. It stole her capacity to speak, because she was unequivocally sure he'd never looked at her like that. Need roared off of him and through her, making her heart beat like a bass drum.

Kristina swallowed hard. What would she do if he kissed her? One kissing experiment aside, she'd never had to ask that in regard to him. Another question followed close behind: what would she do if he didn't?

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And don’t miss the second standalone romance in the Warrior Fight Club series coming August 7, 2018, FIGHTING FOR WHAT’S HIS

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“Nobody’s tortured alphas destroy me quite so utterly as Laura Kaye’s. Her heroes face heart-wrenching struggles. They have flaws. Kaye presents all of it with unflinching honesty, and I love them—and her!—all the more for it!” ~ USA Today Bestselling Author Samanthe Beck

Now that’s how you start a series! Kaye is at her absolute best, and Fighting For Everything is the perfect combination of steamy romance and the struggle of our wounded warriors.” ~ Scarlett Cole, author of the Love Over Duty Series

About Laura Kaye: Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty books in contemporary and erotic romance and romantic suspense, including the Blasphemy, Hard Ink, and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. Laura also writes historical fiction as the NYT bestselling author, Laura Kamoie. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

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It is hot. Hot and sticky here in Maryland. Instead of whining about it, I embraced it by re-releasing my first book! Carolina Heat has a new, hotter cover and some new material inside, too. I can't wait for you to dive in - here's the romantic, suspenseful blurb:

Investigative journalist Annabelle Carlyle is stunned by the personal twist of her latest assignment: her best friend Vanessa is missing. Annabelle goes undercover in the Old South to search for answers. Full of thick accents and a way of life rooted in the past, Charleston is as foreign and strange a place as any she's visited. Before finding a single clue, Annabelle encounters a sexy man she can't shake.

Tall, dark and charming, Mark Dering is happy to show the gorgeous Yankee his hometown. He's captivated by the quick witted, quick tempered redhead. But when they're shot at, he realizes she's far more than just another tourist. Soon they're deep into a mystery that goes way back to the Civil War. For once Annabelle is in over her head. Desperate to find Vanessa, she reluctantly accepts Mark's help and it isn't long before romance blooms.

The stakes grow higher when a body is discovered. Someone is willing to kill to keep a century old Confederate secret hidden. With her best friend missing and a killer on the loose, it's the worst possible moment for Mark to try and unlock Annabelle's heart. Or is love exactly what her life's been missing?

Read on for a peek at the first chapter of Carolina Heat:

“Ready to go?” Mark slid in beside her.

“You have no idea. I’ve been fantasizing about getting horizontal.” She leaned her head against the seat with a sigh.

“Really?” He drew out the word slowly.

“Really, what?”

“You’ve known me for five minutes and you’re already fantasizing about me?”

Heat rushed to her face as her unintentional double meaning registered. “Oh, no. I mean, that certainly wasn’t an invitation.” Now he probably thought she was either a slut, or incredibly rude. This wasn’t going well.

Mark’s laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “It’s okay. I’m not that easy.”

Annabelle twisted to face him, relieved he had a sense of humor. “I’m so sorry. I’ve completely lost the ability to form a coherent sentence that isn’t a come on or an insult. You see, I’ve been awake for two days straight, and three different zones of jet lag caught up to me the moment I stepped off the plane.”

“Not a problem. In fact, why don’t you sleep on it, and decide tomorrow if you’d like to repeat either the insult or the come on. Your choice.”

Annabelle surprised herself by giggling. The tall, dark and hot man was both funny and remarkably even-tempered. She could hardly remember the last time she’d flirted, let alone been on a date. His easy smile stirred something in her long dormant.

The assignment here probably wouldn’t be too taxing. Charleston wasn’t known as a hotbed of intrigue. A little fling might be just what she needed to shake off the boredom and dissatisfaction that had been dogging her steps.

“It’s a nice offer. Surprisingly nice, since I’ve acted like a complete idiot in the five minutes since we met.” But then her reporter’s instinct kicked in a healthy dose of suspicion. “Why are you so desperate for a date? Are you married? Hoping to squeeze in a little action while you’re in town for a conference?”

Mark held up both hands in a time-out gesture. “Whoa! Do you always go from zero to sixty in less than a minute?”

Pretty much. “I don’t like wasting time. And I don’t mince words.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Happen to be a big fan of telling it like it is myself. But you took a mighty big leap from us splitting a cab to labeling me a low-life cheat.”

Annabelle’s eyes stayed locked on his. “It was more of a question than an accusation. Plan on answering?”

Mark shoved a hand through his hair. “Not married, not seeing anyone, and I live right here in Charleston. If you need more extensive qualifications, I can pull together a resume and list of references by breakfast.”

“Point taken. Sorry, I’ll dial back the interrogation.” She dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’m not embarrassed to admit I’ve been burned a few times. It’s possible I overreacted.”

“Could also be possible you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Mark gently lifted her chin. “Annabelle, you’re a beautiful woman. Refreshingly honest, and it’s obvious you don’t play games. Why assume that desperation is the only reason I want to spend time with you?”

Relief flooded through her as the cab slowed to an idle in front of a long picket fence. It was all the excuse she needed to duck his question. “This must be my B&B.”

The back of his knuckles met her cheek in a light caress. “Thanks for sharing the cab. But I’m afraid you can’t escape so easily.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can’t let you leave until I know if you’ll meet me tomorrow. I want a chance to take you on a real date, find out what’s going on behind those shimmering green eyes. Hell, I don’t even know your last name, or what you do.”

It took all of Annabelle’s willpower not to rub against his hand. He had a magic touch. “If I told you now, what we would talk about tomorrow?”

A wide grin took over his entire face. “Great! It’s a date.”

She gave a quick head shake. “Not quite. But I am open to the possibility. I’ll take your advice and sleep on it. You know where I’m staying, so come by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Fair enough.” He scooted out and retrieved her bags.

“I’m taking a chance here, Mark. Don’t disappoint me,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. But there’s a good chance I’ll dream of you tonight, Miss Annabelle.” His appraising look was more intimate than a touch, so much so that her skin tingled as the cab pulled away.