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Falling Away is here!

The final book in the FALLING series.


Today is a bittersweet day for me. It’s the end of a series that I consider the series that made me, the series that everyone thinks of when they think of me. It’s the series full of characters that I consider friends. I’m so excited to bring this final installment to you! I know we all wanted Ben to have his happily ever after and I’m excited for you to read it. I hope you enjoy this one and tell your friends. I hope you identify with him and I hope that his love with Echo will be inspiring to you. Happy reading!

Here are what early reviewers are saying about FALLING AWAY:

“Ben and Echo’s story sizzles in a gripping, multidimensional story of love and loss. It’s a perfect finale to one of my favorite contemporary romance series.”– Vilma’s Book Blog

“Falling Away is beautiful, sexy, and emotionally charged. A uniquely written story so powerful and compelling it traps you from the very start.” – Brandi’s Book Blog

“Ben and Echo’s story embodies everything we loved most about this series. Jasinda has a knack for giving us exactly what we wanted, coupled with everything we didn’t know we needed wrapped up in a novel that takes you to your emotional extremes. “ – Novel Grounds

“Once again, Jasinda proves that out of the greatest pain is born the greatest love.” – Agents of RomancePurchase Links: 

Amazon.com: http://amzn.to/1HzRGvz

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Falling-Away-Into-Yo…/…/ref=asap_bc…

On a personal note, I wanted to say thank you for all of the love and well wishes in regard to Jack and I expecting our 6th little Wilder. We were so overwhelmed by all of the messages and emails. Thank you so much for not only caring about our books but also our family. I’m feeling much better and we are all looking forward to an amazing 2015!

Jasinda and Jack too!


Kindle Daily Deal!

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TODAY ONLY Amazon.com#kindledailydeal 
ONLY $1.99 per book (usually $5.99)

If you loved this series, please consider gifting it to a friend. 

Amazon deal links: 

FALLING INTO YOU: http://amzn.to/1H7fyXi

FALLING INTO US: http://amzn.to/1vk566j

FALLING UNDER: http://amzn.to/1HRV17E

Hope you are all having a wonderful holiday! Can’t wait for you to read FALLING AWAY on January 6th.



My original song, Falling Into You

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FallingIntoYou SingleArt

My original song, Falling Into You.

Now available at iTunes, Google Play and Amazon MP3!

Surprise! Some of you may know that I have a degree in music. I’ve always been a performer and I still enjoy singing when I get the chance. It’s a huge part of who I am, and honestly I’m more sensitive about my music than my writing. When I wrote Falling Into You, I wrote music for several of the original songs that went along with the story; those original songs, those lyrics have since become an integral part of the entire series. When we went to start to record the audiobook, both my music producer friend and the company who assisted me in the audiobook arrangements suggested that I record one of the songs. So, I went into the studio and recorded “Falling Into You”. I added it to the back of the audiobook without really saying anything to anyone. However, within a week or two, I started getting lots of messages asking about the artist and the song, and slowly I let the cat out of the bag one reader at a time that it was actually me singing on that track. I told Audible that I would give them a year of exclusivity to the song on the audiobook. Well, that year is up and the series is complete. I’ve decided to release my original track, “Falling Into You”, onto iTunes, Google, and Amazon MP3 for purchase. “Falling Into You” is the title track from the series, and it is now available. I know there are several of you out there that have been wanting it for some time, so thanks for your patience and as always, your support. To everyone else for whom this new, enjoy!

I’ll have more info about the Falling Away release soon. I have more surprises coming up!

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year!

Purchase Links:

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/falling-into-you-single/id951202739

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/music/album?id=Bc5xez3a67bwxmvddryz4kuejai&tid=song-To567zsy2yrwhxyh7ohdaa4qikm

Amazon MP3: http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Into-You-Jasinda-Wilder/dp/B00QYNNHSE/ref=sr_1_1?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1418822715&sr=1-1&keywords=jasinda+wilder

Teaser Tuesday: Falling Away

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Falling Away timeline
THREE: 2:36 AM
I push the weight up with my legs, straining, aching, and fighting the agony in my right knee. I manage to straighten my legs, and I desperately want to lower them and release the strain. I start to do just that…
“Hold it there for me, Ben,” Cheyenne says. “For ten seconds. That’s all. Ten seconds. You can do it, I know you can.”
But I can’t. I’m a fucking pussy, and it hurts. I try, though. I shake all over, sweat sluicing down my face. I strain, and a growl escapes me as I fight the urge to let the weight go.
“…nine…eight…seven…six! Keep it up, Ben! Five more seconds, come on!” She’s kneeling beside me, her voice patient and encouraging as it always is.
My leg trembles, and the pain in my ruined knee is so bad I could almost cry. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t. I gotta let it go.”
I start to lower the leg press, but my knee gives out. And Cheyenne is there, catching the weight and lowering it. I slide to a sitting position, grab my right leg near the knee and lift it over the bench, and then collapse forward, elbows on my thighs, gasping.
The most pathetic thing about this? The press only has a hundred pounds on it. And I only managed two reps of ten. I used to be able to press over twice my bodyweight, six or eight reps of twenty each. Now, a hundred measly fucking pounds pushed twenty times and I’m out of breath, sweating, and my knee hurts so bad I don’t dare speak in case the tremor my in my voice would show. I feel her hand on my shoulder, and a white towel appears in front of my face. I take the towel, dab my face, neck, and chest, and then accept the bottle of water she hands to me.
“That was great, Ben. You’re making excellent progress.” She sips from her own bottle of water, another towel slung over her slim shoulder. She toys with her hair, a sleek blond braid hanging down her back. “Next time we’ll try for three reps, huh?”
“I barely managed two today, Cheyenne. Gonna take awhile to get to three.” I hate how defeated I sound.
She crouches in front of me, and my eyes go involuntarily to her gray-and-pink sports bra, visible beneath the white tank top, and then to her muscular thighs, encased in black knee-length stretch pants. I force my eyes back to her hazel-green gaze. If she noticed me checking her out, she doesn’t give anything away. “Ben, you’re too hard on yourself. It’s only been a month. It’s going to take some time, okay? You have to be patient with yourself.”
“I know,” I sigh, and roll my head around my shoulders to loosen the tension. “It’s just frustrating to be so limited.”
She smiles, warm and understanding. Only the slight crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes give away the fact that she’s older than me by quite a bit. I don’t know how much, but enough. She has a daughter in college, so she’s got to be at least forty. But Jesus, what a gorgeous forty.
“I get it, Ben. I do.” She pats my knee, the good one. Is it me, or do her fingers linger a few seconds too long? “I went through it too, remember? I know what you’re going through, how hard it is. You can do this. You just have to be patient and stay the course.” She stands up, turns away and grabs two ten-pound hand weights from a rack.
She’s facing away, so I let myself eye her ass. Taut, all toned muscle.
Fuck, what’s wrong with me? She’s got a daughter in college, for fuck’s sake. She’s my physical therapist. I should not be checking her out. But yet, every time I’ve been here since being injured in the game that ended my chances at a football career, I check her out. I struggle to keep my eyes off her, especially when she’s looking my way. Like she is now. Shit. She totally caught me staring. But yet, she doesn’t turn cold, doesn’t scold me, or glare at me. She just offers me the same kind, warm, patient smile she always has for me.
“Come on. Time to walk that knee out, mister. Come on. Up, up, up.” She grabs me by the hand and pulls me up to my feet.
Her hands linger in mine, just for a moment, but it’s enough to make me wonder. And then she’s putting the weight in my hands and gesturing to the track that leads around the perimeter of the gym. She walks beside me, twenty-pound weights in her hands, and sets the pace. She ignores the fact that I’m fighting to keep up, that I’m hobbling so bad it can barely be called walking. And then a ripple in the carpet catches the toe of my cross trainer, and I trip. I lurch forward, hobble, and my bad knee twists and goes out from under me. I fall, the weights dropping from my hands. My knee crashes into the floor, and pure agony lances through my leg, shooting from toe to hip, throbbing so hard my gut tightens. I roll off my knee, clutching it, gasping, fighting the urge to curse a blue streak.
“Ben! Shit! Are you okay?” She’s kneeling beside me, helping me sit up.
Her hand goes to my knee, and she rips open the snaps of my track pants up past my knee, baring my hairy thigh. Her hands are warm and strong, flexing my knee, straightening my leg until I yelp.
“Fuck!” I pull free of her hold on my leg and lay back. “Fuck, that hurt.”
“I think we’d better call it a day,” Cheyenne says, a concerned expression on her face. “I’m worried that’s going to swell.”
“Yeah, no shit.” My voice is hoarse with the effort needed to breathe through the pain like a man.
“Can you stand up?” She’s taking my hand, pulling.
“Yeah, I can fucking stand, okay?” I snap, jerking my hand away.
“Fine then, stand up.” She backs away, not quite hiding the hurt before I see it.
I scrub my hand through my hair. “God, Cheyenne, I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole and you don’t deserve it.”
And just like that, the smile is back. She holds her hand out to me, and this time I take it and let her help me pull me to my feet.  “Okay, see if you can put any weight on it,” she tells me, not letting go of me.
I hobble, get my balance, and gingerly put weight on my knee. “Nope, nope, nope. Not happening,” I grunt, hopping as my knee gives, wincing.
“Okay. Lean on me.” She slides her slim shoulder under my arm and supports me.
She’s a lithe little thing, barely five-five to my six-two, and I outweigh her by at least seventy pounds, but she still manages to support my weight and help me limp out of the gym and to the locker room. I lower myself to the bench and straighten my leg, closing my eyes as the motion sends pain shooting through me.
“That set us back, didn’t it?” Cheyenne asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I think it did.”
She sits down next to me and buttons the snaps of my pants leg. When she’s done, she’s sitting just a little too close to me. “You need ice on that.”
“Yeah, I’ll ice it when I get home.”
“You have a ride?”
I shrug. “No, I’ll just take the bus, then walk, same as always.”
She frowns. “Ben, you can’t. You’ll hurt yourself worse.”
“Well I can’t drive with my knee fucked up, and I’m still working on teleportation.”
She snorts and smacks my shoulder. “Smart ass.”
“Better than being a dumbass,” I retort.
“Well, you’d be a dumbass not to just ask me if I can drive you home, then, wouldn’t you?”
I swallow my pride. “Cheyenne, would you mind driving me home?”
She smiles brightly. “Why sure, Ben, I’d be happy to.”
So I wait, leaning against the frame of the door as she wipes down the machines, shuts off the lights, and then locks the door behind us. She hikes her gym bag higher on her shoulder, and I, out of the instinct drilled into by my mom and dad, take it from her.
“Ben, I can—” she starts to protest.
“And so can I. I have a shit knee, but I’m not useless.” I hang the bag from my right shoulder and lean on the cane.
She lets me carry her bag, shooting me a smile that’s somehow different from the ones she usually gives me. This one is…more personal, somehow. Less politely professional, containing a note of…I don’t know what. I can’t read Cheyenne, most of the time.
She opens the back door of her F-150, takes the bag from me, and tosses it in. I watch her climb up and in, and then around the truck to open the passenger door. It’s not a big truck, not jacked up as high as my Silverado is, but the step up and in is still going to be hellishly difficult. I set my cane—my stupid fucking cane—inside, grab the handle and the seat and lift myself into the seat using only my upper body.
“Nothing wrong with your core muscles, clearly,” Cheyenne says, a strange note in her voice.
I glance at her, surprised by the comment, but she focuses on putting the truck in gear and backing out. I have to be crazy, because it almost looked like she was blushing there for a moment. But that’s stupid. There’s no way a forty-year old fox of a woman with a grown daughter would be blushing over a twenty-two year-old kid. I give her directions to my apartment, and the ride is surprisingly comfortable, no awkwardness. She tunes the radio to an XM country station, and “Cowboy Side of You” by Clare Dunn comes on. I surprise myself by knowing the lyrics. But then, you don’t grow up in Nashville, and now live in Texas, without hearing some country music, even if it’s not really your thing.
We pull up to my apartment, and she hops out, circles around and hovers near me as I slide out. God, I hate being a damned invalid, having her hover over me in case I fall. But a part of me, way deep down, kind of likes having her close, having her hover. Because it means she cares.
And shit, this last year has been fucking lonely.
I have to lean on the cane more than I’d like on the way up the front door of my apartment, which, fortunately for me, is a ground floor. Cheyenne is beside me, not really hovering now, more just…there. In case. I unlock the door, shove it open and let bang against the inner wall. Hobble through, and glance back at Cheyenne, who hasn’t crossed the threshold.
“Hey, so…you want to come in for a second?” I ask.
She hesitates. “I…” her eyes go to mine, and then she smiles. And it’s that other smile. Still bright and warm and genuine, but…intimate. I don’t know how else to think of it. “Sure, for a few minutes.”
I flick a switch to turn on the lights in the kitchen, and then the lamp in the living room. And that’s the apartment. Kitchen, living room, a bedroom. Tiny, but mine. Well, Dad’s. He’s been subsidizing me while I got started in FXFL, the experimental minor league football league. Except now…I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I didn’t tell him about the hit I took, or what it means. I’ve been avoiding it.
And fuck, my place is messy. Dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor in the doorway to my room, unmade bed, a pizza box on the counter.
I grimace and glance sheepishly at Cheyenne. “This place is kind of a mess. Sorry.”
She just grins. “You’re a bachelor. I’d be worried if it wasn’t.” She lifts the lid of the pizza box with a thumb and forefinger, glances in and closes it again quickly; it’s been there a while. “And you should see my place. It’s not much better.”
See her place. Huh. I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with the thoughts that inspires. I think of a cute little two bedroom house in the ‘burbs somewhere, and then I think of a king-size bed, maybe a blue quilt, and a bra hanging on the bathroom doorknob. I feel my cheeks heat and turn away from her before she sees.
“I do have some pizza that’s only from yesterday,” I tell her, grabbing the box from the fridge. “And some Killians.”
Her eyes light up. “Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”
So that’s how I end up sitting on my couch, finishing off a large pepperoni pizza and a six-pack with my physical therapist, watching Die Hard 2. 
More confusing, though, is our arrangement on the couch. I’m in the corner, feet propped up on the coffee table, and she’s sitting right up against my side, body twisted to face the end of the couch, legs curled up under her, watching the movie. And my arm…it’s along the back of the couch. Not around her, per se, but close. Very nearly. And my pulse thunders in my veins, my hand itches to go lower, to curl around her shoulders. I mean, that’s crazy talk, right there. But the desire is there. And I can’t help but wondering what she’d do if I did let my arm slide down onto her shoulders. Maybe nothing, maybe she’d welcome it, maybe she’d get upset. But no, she’s not that kind of person. She’d find a way to let me down gently, and that’d be that.
Halfway through the movie, she gets up to visit the bathroom, and with my nerves jangling, I let my arm slide just a bit lower on the couch back. She comes back, her eyes flicking to me, to my arm. But she sits down anyway, and she settles in close once more. And now…my arm is around her. She sinks lower in the couch, and actually leans in closer to me. My mouth is dry. The exhaustion of the day catches up to me, and I find myself blinking to stay awake. Beside me, Cheyenne is fighting sleep as well, drifting closer and closer to me so that, by the time the movie is over, she’s fully propped up against me. For a woman who’s fit and taut and muscular, she’s also soft. My hand slides down as the credits roll, and it comes to rest against her waist, my fingertips brushing the upper swell of her hip.
I’m nearly asleep, but her proximity, the feel of her against me is heady. But eventually I can’t fight it, and I drift off.
I start, blink, and realize I’ve fallen asleep. The TV has turned off on its own to conserve energy. I crane my neck and glance at the red numbers of the microwave: 2:23 am.
Shit. We slept for a long time. My therapy appointment was at seven, lasted for an hour and a half, and then the movie…
Cheyenne stirs against me, stretches, making a sound in the back of her throat that has my heart clenching for some odd reason, something to do with how cute it is, how intimate a sound it is.  “Time’s it?” she asks.
She jerks upright. “Shit. I’ve got a client at nine, I’ve gotta go.”
I lever myself to my feet, leaning on my cane. But I forget how weak my knee is and put too much weight on it and stumble. And she’s there, catching me. Close. So close. She’s looking up at me, hazel-green eyes full of things I don’t know how to interpret.
“Okay?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
And she hasn’t moved away, and somehow, for some reason, her arms are around my waist…or one is, the other resting on my chest. My breath comes slowly, deeply, because my arms are around her too, resting on her back and sliding lower, and she’s not doing a damned thing to stop me.
She blinks, and her tongue slides across her lips, and my eyes follow that movement.
I refuse to think, just let whatever is going to happen happen.
She smells like shampoo and faintly of sweat, and she’s small and soft in my arms, and her chest is pressed up against mine, breasts that even a sports bra can’t hide despite her svelte, athletic build.
Fuck me, I want to kiss her so bad. I’ve been so lonely, dealing with such wrenching heartbreak for so long, holding myself back from making a move too soon with Kylie, wanting the time to be right. I waited, and I waited too long. I don’t want to make that mistake again. I’m not going to let fear hold me back any longer.
So I lean in and I feel her breath on my lips, feel her fingers curling in my Under Armor shirt…and I feel her lips, soft, damp, warm, against mine…
But then she’s backing away slowly and carefully, but decisively. “Ben…god, I can’t. We can’t.” She waits until she’s sure of my balance, thinking of me even now.
Embarrassment, hurt, and disappointment all war within me. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She reaches toward me, but doesn’t touch me. “Don’t apologize, Ben. It was as much me as you. But I just… I can’t.” She lets out a long, shaky sigh. “I have a daughter your age, Ben. And I’m your therapist. You’re my client. I just can’t let this…I just can’t.”
I nod. “I get it.” I shutter my emotions, shove them down, force a casualness into my voice that I don’t feel. “You’re a great therapist, Cheyenne. For real. You’ve helped me a lot over the last month. I just hope…I hope this doesn’t affect our working relationship.”
She smiles, but it’s strained and slightly closed, now. “It’ll be fine.” She lets out another breath, and then rubs her eyes. “I have to go. It’s late and I live on the other side of town.”
And now that I’m paying attention to anything other than how I feel, I see how tired she is. There are dark circles under her eyes. She seems to sag for a moment, and then gathers her strength and straightens.
“Cheyenne, maybe you should…” I hesitate to offer, considering what just happened. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
She smiles and shrugs. “Oh, sure. I was an ER nurse for a long time. I’m used to it.”
I gesture at the couch. “You can stay here, you know.”
She shakes her head and moves toward the door. “No, I should go. But thank you.”
I follow her to the front door, leaning on my cane. She pauses with the door open, and I wasn’t expecting it, intending to follow her through and watch her go from the front step. So when she stops and turns back, I’m right there, and she bumps into me. And now my arms are around her again, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking, but I’m milliseconds away from trying to kiss her again.
She stumbles away from me, less carefully this time. Her eyes seem pained, haunted, as if pulling away is difficult for her. “Ben, stop. Please don’t.”
I back away. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Cheyenne. I’m sorry.”
She stays in place, hands over her face. She suddenly seems so tired, so small. “You don’t know how I wish I could…it’s been so long, and—” she shakes her head. “But I can’t. Not with you, not now. I just can’t. I’m sorry, I really am.” She walks away then, and her feet drag. Her shoulders are bowed, as if feeling the pressure of refusing the kiss, twice, of walking away.
“Cheyenne?” I call. She stops with one foot in the cab, holding on to the roof. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You seem really tired.”
She smiles faintly. “I’m fine, Ben. I didn’t sleep well last night is all. But thank you.”
She climbs into the truck, closes the door, and starts the engine. Backs out. I stand in the doorway, the warm San Antonio night wrapped around me like a blanket. I watch her as she turns onto the main road, and I watch as she waits to make a left turn. There is no traffic and the streets are quiet. I’m about to go back inside when the light turns green and she steps on the gas. And then I see it. I see the on coming older model red Mustang run the light.  She doesn’t see him. She’s too tired to check for traffic, probably, focused on the light ahead of her.
Her white truck is halfway through the intersection when the Mustang slams into her driver’s side door, going forty or fifty miles per hour.
“CHEYENNE!” I shout and hobble forward.
Her truck rocks with the impact and jolts to the side, topples, and then momentum and weight take over and the vehicle rolls over to the roof. I watch the cab crumple. Smoke rises from the hood. I can see her driver’s door is smashed in, crumpled.
“CHEYENNE!” I’m trying to run, but I can’t. I can barely walk, but I somehow make it out into the street, knee throbbing and protesting.
The Mustang is a few feet away, the hood accordioned, smoking.
I get to her overturned truck, just now remembering my cell phone is in my pocket. I dial 911, heart hammering, fear ramming my pulse into overdrive.
“Nine-one-one what’s your emergency?”
“A car…it ran the light and slammed into her.” I don’t know how to make sense. “The truck…I think she’s hurt…”
“Sir, can you tell me your location?” Her voice is calm, smooth, emotionless.
I glance at the street names and relay them, and then I’m awkwardly, painfully lowering myself to one knee at the driver’s side window, which is smashed out.
There’s blood on the road.
She’s not moving. Her head hangs; her braid is dangling over her shoulder.
“Cheyenne. Talk to me. Hey. Come on. You’re okay. Talk to me.” I reach in and tap her shoulder hesitantly. She doesn’t respond. “No. No. Cheyenne? Come on. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Sir?” I’d forgotten the 911 operator. “Sir, are you there?”
“She’s not moving, she’s not—she’s not—”
“Help is on the way, sir. We have your location and paramedics are en route. Just stay calm and don’t try to move her…”
But it’s no good. I can tell.
They won’t be able to help.
And when they show up and check her pulse and vital signs I know from the minute shake of a head…
She’s gone.
My gaze falls upon the lock screen of my phone: 2:36 AM.
Amazon paperback http://amzn.to/1D3rue2


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He’s a Hollywood hunk. She’s a virgin… And makes her living picking up trash.


I’m having an exciting week! It’s been over a year since I’ve been able to get back into the world of STRIPPED. My goal was to write a modern-day fairytale. I loved the dynamic between Grey’s innocence and Dawson’s alpha-male, movie-star hotness. If you liked my Big Girls Do It books, then I think you’ll really love this story; it’s sexy and fun and steamy, with some really great side characters. In TRASHED, you meet Des and Adam. Adam is a friend of Dawson’s that you might remember. He’s a cross between a young Vin Diesel and the ROCK. A hot, action star who’s been burned by love before. Des, on the other hand has been burned by life. The chemistry between these two is HOT. I hope you enjoy reading TRASHED as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is a big book, clocking in at almost 450 pages! Also, please make sure to check out the preview at the end for Falling Away, Ben’s book, which is coming in January. I’m in the middle of writing that story now and I’m just filled with so much excitement for this book; it’s really great to get into Ben’s love story. He needs his own happily ever after! Falling Away is currently up for preorder at Amazon, iBooks and Kobo.

Here are some early reviews for TRASHED. It will be available everywhere today. B&N is the only store not yet live, but I hope to see it pop up there soon.

“Trashed is just one of those super sexy, totally romantic feel-good reads.” – Ana’s Attic Book Blog

“This book was hot, hot, hot! Jasinda Wilder definitely knows how to write some incredibly steamy scenes.”– The Book Enthusiast

“This story pulled me in from the start. This is a book that will leave you believing in fairy tales. 5 out of 5!” – Babu’s Bookshelf

Purchase links for TRASHED: (click your preferred store)

Google Play

**B&N should be up soon, sorry for the delay**

I want to thank you in advance your for reviews. I still read every single one, good and bad. If you take the time to write it, I’ll take the time to read it. They are such a huge help. Thank you!

I also wanted to let you know that I’m in a special Amazon section at the end of this week’s edition of People Magazine. It should hit stands today. It has Bill Cosby on the cover, and you can find me on the back inside cover. This was a HUGE SURPRISE to me. Thanks to all of my readers for making my life so fun and exciting. I have to pinch myself daily. I can’t tell you how much your support means to me.

Lastly, I want to wish my US families a Happy and Blessed Thanksgiving. We have so much to be thankful for! I hope everyone enjoys their time together.


Jasinda and Jack too!


A Note From Jasinda and Jack!

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Captured has a brand new cover!


NEW Captured BN Kobo


Have you seen it yet? What do you think?

Captured is now available to purchase with the beautiful new cover. Have you read the book that reviewers can’t stop talking about?

“CAPTURED by this amazing love story!!!”

“5 out of 5 STARS!”

“I wish I could give this book 10 stars!”

“…Uplifting emotions that captured my heart completely as this story showed me the amazing endurance of love, hope, and second chances. ”

“ This book made me cry and laugh, which is what a truly good book should! ”

“ Jasinda and Jack did an amazing job developing characters and a strong story line. ”

Purchase Links for Captured:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1vqYxE5

iBooks:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/captured/id902847213?mt=11

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/captured-jasinda-wilder/1120111410?ean=2940150732971

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/captured-41


A few other important notes:

Beta is coming along great and I can’t wait for you to read it. You may have recently seen that I put a warning on the book’s blurb. Yes, this is going to be a book that might test some boundaries. I’ve been surprised by the journey I’ve been on with these characters. Roth is one wild ride! I think you will all be freaking out when you read this one; just remember that you were properly warned.

You can preorder Beta as well as Trashed and Falling Away at Amazon, iBooks and Kobo.

Are you coming to see me?

You can find Jack and I at these upcoming events:

  • Penned Con St. Louis, MO
  • Sep 12-13
  • Romance Riot New York, NY
    Oct 18
  • San Diego Author Event San Diego, CA
    Nov 8-9
You can always find out where we’re going to be under the “Events” section of our website. We would love to meet you, so come see us! http://jasindawilder.com/news-events/

Last but not least, Jack and I are so excited to announce that we will be bringing you not only books, but bottles in 2015 as well. Many of you know that we bought an orchard and vineyard in Northern Michigan last year, and we’ve been working really hard to get it up and running. We will have Wilder Wines coming to you in 2015! You can join the excitement by liking our Facebook page, here: https://www.facebook.com/WilderWines

We will have lots of exciting giveaways as we prepare to pour out the first bottles. Join in the fun!

I want to wish you all a happy and safe Labor Day weekend.
As always thank you for all the love and support. We couldn’t do this without you!


Jasinda and Jack!


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This isn’t a story about war, this is a story about love.

Check out what all the 5 and 6 star reviewers are saying: 

“Jack and Jasinda Wilder have “Captured” me with this amazing story. Not only is it incredibly suspenseful and fast paced, at its core it is essentially a fantastically written romance with all the grit and steam you can imagine. This book gets five wickedly wild stars, and I hope this is not the last collaboration book between this husband and wife team.” – Three Chicks and Their Books

“Be prepared for a rush of emotions. All the feelings. Every. Last. One. This is a roller-coaster ride. Jack and Jasinda are the power couple of words, using multiple layered stories to create reading bliss. CAPTURED is a standalone but is told alongside its predecessor, WOUNDED. WOUNDED was impressive but CAPTURED will captivate your heart. By far this is my top Wilder read.” – The Book Avenue Review

“A story to be devoured. Richly furnished with mounds of raw emotion, woven with definitive detail making CAPTURED an irresistible page-turner. A must read!” -Brandi Money

”THIS is why I read. To feel the blood rushing through my veins, to feel my heart race, to feel my lungs seize as I gasp for breath. To feel the heat of lust, the terror, and fear. To feel devastating heartbreak and intense joy. To feel. To feel. To feel. This book is EVERYTHING.”- Cristal Haynes

“CAPTURED not only highlights the horrors of the warfront, it also spotlights the pure joy of finding love. The sexual chemistry and romance between Derek and Reagan is smoldering. 6 STARS” – Smut Book Junkie Book Reviews


Amazon.com http://amzn.to/1sUeq2m

Barnes and Noble : http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/captured-jasinda-wilder/1120111410?ean=2940150732971

iBooks : https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/captured/id902847213?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Kobo http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/captured-41

Captured: steamy teaser

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My legs wrap around his torso, holding him to me. My arms snake around his neck; he’s supporting himself partially out of the water with the strength of his arms alone.

His face is level with mine, his mouth slanting, closing in. “Stop me,” he whispers.

I exhale, my palm touching his jaw, and I close the distance between my lips and his.

God, god, god.

Lips alone, at first. Meeting, moving, melding. Then his tongue and mine venture out in the same moment, touch and tangle. Things jangle in the back of my head. Warning flags flap and klaxons blare, but they’re stilled and silenced by the taste of his mouth, by the solidity of his waist between my legs, his stomach pressing teasingly against my damp aching core, that long-ignored part of me.

Oh, there’ve been any number of time over the years when my fingers have eased the ache in the long nights alone, but that is so, so inadequate. Dreams and fantasies cannot begin to compare to the heat and strength of a man’s body against your flesh, of his mouth on yours, his chest hair tickling and scratching, his stubble scraping your upper lip and chin as you kiss and the way you can feel his muscles rippling and shifting as he begins his conquest to possess you.

When he arches his back and hovers over you, palm beside your ear, breath on your cheek, in that moment, all those sensations fade to background beauty, because the sole focus of your existence is the thick hard presence of his cock against your softest place, and you feel yourself wet and warm and ready for him, aching for him, needing him, needing to feel that perfect soul-swelling fullness, the completion of being joined.

A breath and the slightest shift of muscles are all that stand between us.

My hands are on his back, on his shoulders, caressing and smoothing in circles, pulling, sliding from shoulder blades to the broad expanse of his back. Balance shifts, and I fall backward to the grass, blades pricking my shoulders, and my hands find the hard swell of his taut ass. He’s above me, still kissing me, totally out of the water now, one knee between my thighs. One hand supports him, planted in the turf beside my face, the other sweeping up the curve of my waist to my breast, sagged to the side by gravity.

They were once high and firm, my tits. Pregnancy swelled them, milk stretched them, nursing changed them. There’s a moment of discomfort, embarrassment, self-consciousness. That moment is erased by his palm against the weighted side of my boob, lifting it, caressing it reverently.

His mouth leaves mine.

Descends. Lips touch my clavicle.

“You are…so beautiful.” His words float up to me, make me swallow hard against the sudden glut of emotions charging through me.

I haven’t felt beautiful or feminine in so, so long. Four words, a heartfelt compliment, the wonder rife in his tone making it clear he means it down to the depths of his desire. Four little words, and I’m wrecked.


Early reviews:


“Jack and Jasinda Wilder have “Captured” me with this amazing story. Not only is it incredibly suspenseful and fast paced, at it’s core it is essentially a fantastically written romance with all the grit and steam you can imagine. This book gets five wickedly wild stars, and I hope this is not the last collaboration book between this husband and wife team.” – Three Chicks and Their Books  


“Be prepared for a rush of emotions.  All the feelings. Every. Last. One.  This is a roller-coaster ride.  Jack and Jasinda are the power couple of words, using multiple layered stories to create reading bliss.  Captured is a stand-alone but is told alongside its predecessor, Wounded.  Wounded was impressive but Captured will captivate your heart.  By far this is my top Wilder read.” – The Book Avenue Review


Preorder links:


Amazon: http://amzn.to/1rsTGgx

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/captured/id902847213?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/captured-41


Forbidden Fruit!

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Forbidden Fruit is LIVE!

The Preacher’s Son series has a whole new look!

Many of you know that The Preacher’s Son was actually my very first attempt at a steamy romance series. I was just getting my feet wet into a more erotic story and this was the result. I love the idea of a mature woman and a more inexperienced hot, younger man. It’s a fun fantasy I know many women have. I never did a print version of this series, and over the years I’ve had tons of people ask for one. Well, when Sarah Hansen showed me this photo, I just KNEW I needed to use it for an omnibus version of this series. I hope you enjoy this collection, which includes all three of the Preacher’s Son stories. Both the print and ebook versions are now available.

Amazon ebook: http://amzn.to/1AqmQmB
Amazon paperback: http://amzn.to/X4QWgg
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/forbidden-fruit-jasinda-wilder/1120015428?ean=2940149631926
Kobo and iBooks: Should be up very soon!

Also make sure to keep an eye out for some really exciting things I have happening with the release of Captured. My editor told me this morning that this is her favorite of our stories so far. I really think it’s one that you will fall in love with. Don’t forget you can preorder that one now:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1rsTGgx
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/captured/id902847213?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/captured-41

Thanks so much for reading. I have the best readers.

Have a great week!



Pre-Orders are LIVE!

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preorder banner

Pre-orders are LIVE!


Captured *** BETA *** Trashed *** Falling Away


To purchase at Amazon: 

Captured:               http://amzn.to/UrhnLu

BETA:                    http://amzn.to/1rEw2RV

Trashed:                http://amzn.to/1rQbvHs

Falling Away          http://amzn.to/1lBoqZ3

To purchase at iBooks: 

Captured: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/captured/id902847213?mt=11&uo=4&at=10lHrs

BETA:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/beta/id902845261?mt=11&uo=4&at=10lHrs

Trashed:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/trashed/id902843148?mt=11&uo=4&at=10lHrs

Falling Away: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/falling-away/id902840578?mt=11&uo=4&at=10lHrs

To purchase at Kobo:

Captured:   http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/captured-41

BETA:  http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/beta-9

Trashed: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/trashed-6

Falling Away: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/falling-away-2

– Thank you so much for clicking and reading! I can’t wait for you to read these stories.
Have a wonderful weekend.



Dear Bloggers,

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First, I want to say THANK YOU. It’s so difficult as an author who writes in as many sub-genres of romance to make great relationships will all these little blogging communities and groups. I’ve been lucky to work with so many of you.  Your support of my work means so much to me. I like to think of bloggers as book cheerleaders and super-readers. You are the best at shouting out your love for books and that’s just so cool. You rock! I’ve been working hard on a bunch of new books I have coming out from now to the first week of next year. All of them are sequels to books you probably have heard of. Since I know that everyone has different tastes, I want YOU to pick which books you would like to promote or highlight on your blog.


August 12th – CAPTURED (WOUNDED) – *standalone sequel

October 21st – BETA (ALPHA) – *sequel

November 25th- TRASHED (STRIPPED) – *standalone sequel

And January 6th FALLING AWAY (FALLING UNDER) – *sequel


I’ve decided I can’t do formal tours for these books since I have them coming back to back. I’m honestly not sure how effective tours are anymore and I think they are a TON of work for both you and me. I would still love to work together with you to get the word out and thank your followers, who are also my readers.


If you are interested in reading any of these books, please send me an email at wilderbookpromo@gmail.com. When you send it please link your review for the previous book. I would also like to know what your plans are for your specific blog and this title. If you have out-of-the box ideas, I would LOVE to hear them. I will be picking 10-15 blogs to partner with me for each title. I won’t be picking based on numbers, I just I really want a good variety of readers and cheerleaders.  So, please don’t think your blog is too small.


If you have any questions please feel free to email. I can’t wait to hear from you!

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