Blog Tour for Deal With the Devil by Meghan March + Giveaway!

From New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller Meghan March comes the first book in a new riveting romance trilogy filled with international high-stakes, dangerous hidden agendas, and—in true March fashion—plenty of twists and turns. Grab your copy Today!!

Title: Deal with the Devil

Series: Forge Trilogy #1

Author: Meghan March

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Release Date: January 15, 2019

You can put that man in a suit, but he’ll never be tame. One look at Jericho Forge and I knew the rumors were true. He was a predator, and he had set his sights on me.

I knew better than to bet more than I could afford to lose that night. I knew better than to bet myself. 

But desperation leads to bad decisions, and I thought there was no way I could lose.

I was wrong. Now I have no choice but to make a deal with the devil.

Deal with the Devil is the first book in Meghan March’s Forge Trilogy. This series is one continuous storyline written in three volumes and must be read in order. 

The Forge trilogy is unrelated to Ms. March’s other series. Deal with the Devil is written in dual first-person perspective, narrated by India and Forge.

CHAPTER 4 - India 

I’m almost there. The chips are on the table in front of me, and with this last pot, I’ll have a solid portion of what I need. Only two men stand in my way, and Bastien is full of shit. Which leaves Forge, the only one I can’t read. 

He has the power to destroy everything, and I’m praying to anyone who will listen that he doesn’t. It’s a naive thought at best, and a stupid one at worst. But right now, all I have are hopes and prayers to help me bring this home. 

I purposely slow my breathing, trying to keep myself focused and calm. I’m so close. “Action is to you, Mr. Forge,” Armand says, and I keep those prayers rolling. 

I need this money more than any of them. It’s the only way I can save her. Please, please don’t let me fail. I should have known better than to think any divine power would listen. 

Forge looks at the chips in front of me, and I swear I see the glimmer of victory reflected in his gaze before he goes in for the kill, pushing every stack of chips in front of him to the center of the table. 

Raise. No. No. No. My heart tumbles in my chest as my stomach drops to the floor. Ms. Baptiste, back to you. I flatten my cards out on the table and look to the corner where Jean Phillippe sits. 

Jean Phillippe, a word? He rises and comes toward me. Yes, Ms. Baptiste? I seem to need a line of credit this evening, I say, my voice low.  We’re only playing what’s on the table tonight, Indy, Bastien says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.  You made the rule. 

Goddamn you, Bastien, I curse silently. You’re going to cost me everything, all because I refuse to sleep with you.  My chin dips. I do another mental tally of my chips, but it’s pointless. I don’t have enough, and the side pot won’t even come close to what I need to win. 

Then I guess that means . . .  My heart clogs my throat, and I can barely get out the words I need to speak. The words of defeat.  “You’re not done yet,” Forge says. After an entire night of purposely avoiding the man, I turn to face him. 

What do you mean? We’re not playing by casino rules . . . only our own, correct?  I have no idea what the hell Forge is getting at, but I can’t imagine it’s going to help me. “Correct,” I reply, caution underlying my tone. 

His gaze drops to the space in front of me. Then you can play whatever’s on the table. I look down to see the condensation dripping from my untouched champagne flute . . . and the keycard beside it.  

The keycard for the suite Jean Phillippe comped me for tonight. Oh, fuck no. Just no. Silently, I meet Forge’s dark gaze without blinking. He doesn’t even bother to try to hide the hunger in it. There’s no question what he wants. Me.  

You can’t be serious, I say, but we both know it’s a waste of breath. Forge has probably never joked in his entire life. And now he wants to put a monetary value on my room key and have me toss it in the pot? 

You fucking bastard, Bastien says with hatred practically incinerating his words. Forge’s attention cuts to Bastien, and the triumph in his gaze tells me exactly what his goal has been all night. 

Destroy Bastien through any means necessary, including taking away the one thing he wants more in this room than money—me. I’m not a whore. I force out the words from between clenched teeth.  

Forge’s gaze shifts to me. Whores don’t get millions for a night with me. Chills shoot down my spine, and they have nothing to do with the air-conditioning being on full blast. No, they have everything to do with my all-too-vivid imagination conjuring images of a night with the untamable Jericho Forge. 

Him slipping this dress off my body. Gripping my hair. Taking my lips. Sliding between my legs. Moving over me as I dig my nails into his shoulders.  My nipples peak, and I slam my eyes shut. It doesn’t help. The scene plays like a movie in my head. 

I knew when he walked in the room that he was dangerous on every level, and I wasn’t wrong.  Everything about Jericho Forge screams to me to run in the other direction. I shouldn’t be affected by him. But there’s no arguing the truth. 

I open my eyes and stare the man down before making the only real choice I have left. I lift my hand from the edge of the table, and like I’m moving through quicksand, my fingers hover over the keycard. 

There’s no going back if I do this. I have to win. I don’t have to look down at my cards to see the full house I’m holding. I haven’t been bluffing. I will win. 

CHAPTER 5 - Forge 

As soon as her pink-tipped finger touches the keycard, a surge of something primal charges through my veins. Victory. Need. Possession.  I’m an unapologetically acquisitive man. 

If India Baptiste had stayed off my radar, I never would have known I wanted her. But she didn’t, and now she’s going to be mine.  I can already feel her smooth skin under my fingertips. 

Taste the salt from the sea air as my tongue traces the thundering pulse at her neck. Hear her voice break as she begs me for more . . . 

With every bit of self-control I have, I push those thoughts from my mind. I watch for the tell as she pushes the card into the center of the table.  Fine. I call. Nothing. She’s not bluffing. 

The three of us turn over our cards. De Vere chokes as he leans forward, his jaw practically hitting the space in front of him.  No fucking way, Cruz says softly. The Russian chuckles. But I don’t give a single fuck about any of them. 

I’m waiting for her response. That’s the only thing that matters right now. A shocked exhalation escapes India’s lips. No. No. That can’t be possible. I rise from the table where my straight flush crushes India’s full house. - 

 I won. She’s mine. Jean Phillippe, collect my chips. I have more important things to worry about for the rest of the evening. I retrieve the keycard from the center of the table and step toward the door, then hold out my arm.  Ms. Baptiste. After you. 

©Meghan March 2019

"Deal with the Devil is a sexy as hell, mind-altering must have!!!" -Heather, QueenZany  (5 stars) 

 “I thought I could handle Jericho and all his bad ass, bossy, uber alpha ways. I'll freely admit...I was wrong. Nothing can prepare you for him. NOTHING.” -Goodreads

 "Jericho Forge is swoony, alpha, rude, cocky, hot, and every confusing adjective in between." -Emma, Book Buddies Neverending TBR (5 stars)

 "Forge and Indy were nothing short of PERFECTION and EXPLOSIVE CHEMISTRY!" ~Goodreads reviewer 

 AMAZING!!! OMG!!! A FANTASTIC Mega Five Star read that will leave you on the edge of your seat wanting more...needing more! Jericho is a sexy, devilishly hot alpha male. India is a vivacious, strong-willed woman. Together they are explosive!!! `JennaG

Luck of the Devil

Heart of the Devil

A New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of thirty novels, Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in the woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. 

She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. 

Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had.

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