THE LOVE LIST by Elana Johnson is out now! Check out the gorgeous second chance summer romance and get your copy of the series today!
Title: The Love List
Author: Elana Johnson
Genre: Beach Romance
About The Love List:
Beatrice Callahan loves lists. Sometimes she even makes a to-do list of things she’s already done, just to go check, check, check and feel accomplished. So it’s easy to understand why, when her divorce is finally final and her ex is all moved out, Bea takes a cool, close look at her life…and makes a list.
It’s not exactly a bucket list.
It’s a love list.
Bea loves the outdoors, so she puts visit 10 National Parks on the list.
She loves animals, and on goes get a puppy.
She loves the beach, and she adds take a dream vacation to the list, and decides to do that one first. After all she’s been through and all she’s lost, she needs time to relax, rest, and reset.
On the first day she arrives in Hilton Head Island, she meets Grant Turner, the man whose house she’s renting for her fabulous beach vacation. He’s just there to make sure she settles in properly and has enough towels.
But when Bea asks for recommendations around the island, Grant quickly becomes her tour guide and then a friend and then…more than friends.
Bea turns to her lists when things get confusing and her love list morphs once again… Can she add fall in love at age 45 to the list and check it off?
She runs a personal blog on publishing and is a founding author of the QueryTracker blog, a co-founder of The League of Extraordinary Writers, and a co-organizer of WriteOnCon. She is a member of ALLi and NINC and a popular speaker for libraries, teens, and writer’s conferences across the United States. To contact Elana to speak at your event, please see her contact page.
Blazing heat, laugh-out-loud humor, and an abundance of swoon-worthy moments make this sexy new standalone romance by New York Times and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Melissa Foster unputdownable.
No cheating, no cliffhangers, and guaranteed to leave you breathlessly in love with the fiercely loyal and wickedly naughty Bradens.
What happens when you find your soul mate but she belongs to someone else?
Months ago, famed wedding-gown designer Jax Braden met the woman of his dreams when a bride-to-be came in for a consultation. He’s tried to move on, but there is no forgetting beautiful, smart, and refreshingly real Jordan Lawler, or the loneliness she cleverly tries to hide. When Jordan hires him to design her wedding gown, Jax knows he’s in trouble, but he cannot walk away. As business meetings turn to late-night confessions, their connection deepens, igniting passion too strong to deny. They’re drawn into an inescapable and forbidden love. Loyalties are tested and hearts are frayed, but neither will cross that invisible line in the sand. Come along for the sexy, emotional ride as Jax and Jordan face their toughest competitors yet—their hearts.
Melissa Foster is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of more than 100 novels. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance and women’s fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic, always family oriented, and feature fiercely loyal heroes, smart, sassy heroines, and complex relatable issues. Melissa enjoys chatting with readers and book clubs. Send her an email invitation to your next event!
Everyone in Captivity, Alaska, now knows Lilah Iquat’s big (and getting bigger) secret. She’s knocked up. Pregnant. All it took was a foolish decision with lasting consequences. Now Lilah’s going it alone—with the help of the town. But with one particular craving getting stronger, Lilah has her eyes on just one thing: too-sexy Ford Langley.
Ford’s ex-Army Special Forces sense of honor and duty haven’t disappeared. Which is exactly why Lilah is fully off limits, hands-off, and don’t even think about it, Ford. She’s too young and too bright for an ex-Army man who’s seen too much, too soon. Which means that he’ll hold to his code—even if it kills him. And it just might.
Now Lilah is showing Ford how much light and life and love he’s missing out on, testing every last shred of his resolve. But with a baby on the way and the whole town involved, Ford and Lilah are about to learn the hard way that life never goes according to plan…especially when it comes to love.
Wine lover, sleep fanatic, and USA TODAY Bestselling Author of sexy contemporary romance novels, Samanthe Beck lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her long-suffering husband, Charles, and their turbo-son, Hud. Throw in a furry ninja assassin named Gander, a few hundred Nerf blasters, one electric guitar, (with amp!), and…well…you get the picture.
When not dreaming up fun, fan-your-cheeks ways to get her characters to happy-ever-after, she searches for the perfect cabernet to pair with ASMR podcasts.
Only a bad nanny knows what it’s like to kiss the boss.
CEO millionaire, Max Fletcher is a single dad in desperate need of a nanny.
Cozy Barlow is in the middle of her self-appointed “gap year” and doing everything she can to detach from her past.
But when her sister begs her to interview for the nanny position of a high maintenance client, she doesn’t have a good enough reason to say no.
And when Max locks eyes on the twenty-something in a tie-dye sweatsuit who pitches the idea of daydreaming all summer—he prepares to give this bad nanny the boot.
One problem: Max’s little girl thinks this plus-sized in body and spirit nanny might be her new bestie, so she hires her on the spot.
Now Max is stuck with this bizarre woman who hates everything he represents—corporate greed, money, status, power.
But one stormy night when the power goes out, he discovers Cozy doesn’t hate him. In fact, he’s the leading role in her fantasies.
Fantasies, he would very much like to make a reality.
EXCERPT
“So that’s really your proposal as the nanny to my daughter for the summer? To do nothing?” I ask dryly, hoping this Cassandra person has a backup response that she’s going to pull out of her back pocket at any moment to save this horrible interview.
Cassandra nods proudly. “We’ll also do a lot of sitting. I’m an expert at sitting,” she deadpans.
“Okay…I think we’ve heard enough, Cassandra.” I move to stand, but she reaches out and touches my arm, halting me in my tracks.
“I said to call me Cozy,” she corrects with a wink.
The teasing look in her eyes causes my skin to tighten. I do my best to shake it off as she refocuses on my daughter to share with her the last book that made her cry. Her hand slides off my arm, and my eyes lock on the way her index finger trails off the fabric of my suit.
I’m left struggling to shake this silvery feeling her delicate touch has left on my arm, so I take a moment to inspect Cassandra a bit closer now that her focus is off me. Her facial features are round, a faint dimple appearing in her cheek as she talks animatedly to my daughter. Her alabaster skin is a stunning contrast to her nearly black hair cropped bluntly just above her shoulders. She has shockingly plump lips slathered in a pale pink gloss that thankfully doesn’t match the orange jumpsuit that looks like something a teenager would wear. Her ample curves indicate she’s very much not a child.
“How old are you?” I blurt out in the middle of my interview with this bizarre potential nanny. I blanch at how unprofessional of a question that is and curse under my breath. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
“I’m twenty-six, Big Daddy,” Cassandra replies with another wink and then immediately dives back into conversation with my daughter.
Big Daddy? I frown at that very unpleasant label. Jesus Christ, she is so unprofessional. No fucking way…over my dead body. This will not work. I click my tongue and bring out my CEO voice. “Cassandra…I thank you for coming in, but I’m afraid—”
“You’re hired!” my daughter bursts out, standing up so she’s eye level with me. She thrusts her hand across my face and reaches for Cassandra’s, mimicking me to a T how I’ve handled many successful boardroom transactions.
My mouth hangs open as I sit frozen, watching Cassandra stand in what feels like slow motion to take Everly’s hand and accept the offer.
“This is so awesome!” Cassandra shakes Everly’s hand so hard, she starts to giggle. “This summer is going to be GOAT!”
“Goats?” I exclaim, finally breaking free of my stunned-stupid response to my daughter taking over this meeting. How is Everly so charmed by this…this…I don’t even know what to call a person like Cassandra. “No one said anything about farm animals.”
Cassandra and Everly burst out laughing like they’ve been buddies their entire life. Everly places her slender fingers on my shoulder in a way that makes me feel like the eleven-year-old in the room. “Dad, GOAT means greatest of all time.”
My shoulders slump. “Oh.”
Everly leans over to Cassandra and whispers loudly, “I’m so glad this worked out. If we didn’t hire someone today, my dad was totally going to get a case of his stress poops again.”
“Everly!” My eyes fly wide when Cassandra turns her green gaze at me. I push a nervous hand through my hair and quickly rush out, “I don’t get stress poops. I don’t know what that kid’s talking about.”
Cassandra reaches out and pats me on the other shoulder. “Hey Mr. Fletcher, no judgment here. Maybe you should try some of that kombucha in the waiting room that you won’t let your staff have? It’s really good for the digestive system.”
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. This summer is going to be a disaster.
BINGE THE SERIES
Wait With Me (optioned for film by Passionflix)
When romance novelist, Kate Smith, finds her long lost writing mojo in the customer waiting area of a tire store, the complimentary coffee isn’t the only things that’s hot. But sexy mechanic, Miles Hudson, is just up for a friendly test-drive of her new book idea. At least, that was the agreement…
For a chance to win a signed copy of Last on the List, go check out my cover reveal post on Facebook: www.facebook.com/amydawsauthor
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Number 1 Amazon Bestselling author Amy Daws writes spicy love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond. She’s most known for her footy-playing Harris Brothers and writing in a tire shop waiting room. When Amy is not writing, she’s likely making charcuterie boards from her home in South Dakota where she lives with her daughter and husband.
Follow Amy on all social media channels, including Tik Tok under @amydawsauthor
Big Hose, an all new sizzling stand-alone workplace romance from New York Times bestselling author Jasinda Wilder, is out now!
Putting out fires is more than just a job, it’s my passion in life. There’s no time for anything else but the job…until I meet her. And now I’m on fire for her, only there’s no hose big enough to extinguish these flames.
She’s too hot to handle, and I’m about to get burned.
* * *
Saving lives is what I do. As a career paramedic married to the job, I’ve never thought much about my love life—or my lack of one, if I’m being honest—until it’s his life I’m worried about saving. Now I’ve got a scorching hot firefighter burning up my life and setting my body on fire. No matter how hot he is or how hot things are between us, however, there’s one rule in my life which I refuse to break: Never date a fireman.
* * *
Will we find each other in the flames of this romance, or will we simply add another scar to the collection?
It’s the medic from earlier, the curvy one with the long-ass black hair. I’m closer, this time, and up close, she’s even more stunning. Her face is perfectly symmetrical, her eyes huge and brown, her lashes thick, lips plump and in a naturally perfect cupid’s bow. And shit, the way her medic blues fit her insane curves leaves my jaw damn near on the floor.
She doesn’t even register me standing at the entrance, mere feet away: there’s a godawful ruckus coming from the back of the bus. She yanks open the rear doors and heaves herself up and in.
“Mr. Wilson, you need to calm down.” Her voice is hard, commanding. Short-tempered. “If you keep kicking up a fuss like this, I’m going to be forced to sedate you.”
“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK, YOU DUMB BITCH! LET ME GO! LET ME GO, GODDAMMIT!”
The medic goes flying backward out of the bus, landing on her heels and quick-stepping backward. Instinct takes over, and I lunge forward, catching her in my arms. For a split second, I’m just holding her. She’s equal parts taut and firm, lithe and soft, delicate and warm. And for that split second, she seems tempted to just…relax into my arm. Let me hold her.
A spark jolts through me, like I grabbed onto a live wire. My skin tingles, my hair stands on end, and my lungs seize, breath whooshing out of me.
I’m hard as a fucking diamond, behind my pants.
The split second is gone, and she’s rocketing out of my arms like she felt the shock as clearly as I did. She shakes herself like a dog shaking water off, storming forward with her fists clenched.
“That’s it, Mr. Wilson,” she grits out between clenched molars. “I told you.”
Mr. Wilson is a wiry old white guy, with a shock of hair that looks like he stuck his fingers in an electrical socket. He’s wigged the hell out, thrashing like a madman despite being restrained by the gurney straps. The other medic, the young Black man from earlier, is trying his damndest to hold the old man down, but it’s like trying to wrestle a wet horse.
I grab the sexy medic’s arm and hold her back. “Let me.”
“The fuck I will,” she snarls.
I’m already climbing up and into the bus, ignoring her protests. I latch onto the patient’s wrists and pin his thrashing feet to the gurney with my hips. I fix him with my you’re gonna listen like it or not glare, and make it clear no amount of thrashing is going to budge my iron grip.
“Cool the fuck off, old man.” I growl the command. I let go of one of his wrists, pinioning them both with one hand, and hold out my empty hand. “Needle.”
I feel the syringe slap into my palm.
“You got two options, here, pal.” I flick the cap off the needle and press the tip to the outside of his skinny little bicep. “One, you quit the tantrum and get yourself treated like a goddamn adult. Option two, I jab this shit into you, and I can’t guarantee how gentle I’ll be. You feel me?”
He stills, but his eyes snap with defiance. “Get off me.”
“Wrong answer.” I press the needle harder. “Last chance.”
“Fine, goddamnit, fine. That shit constipates me.”
I snicker. “Then quit acting like a child.”
“I don’t need no ambulance. I’m fuckin’ fine.”
The Black medic coughs a laugh. “You had a stroke two weeks ago and you just overdosed on Vicodin. You’re not fine.”
I blink. “How is he alive? Much less upright and pitching a tantrum?”
The medic shrugs. “Hell if I know. Bastard isn’t human.”
“I heard that you goddamn—”
I silence him with a glare. “You better not fucking finish saying what I think you’re about to say.”
He holds up his hands. “I wasn’t gonna say that. I ain’t no racist.”
“Get out of my bus,” a female voice says from behind me.
I climb backward and out, turn to face a very pissed-off but still drop-dead sexy medic. “What’s his story?”
She just glares at me. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You’d be the one getting stitches if I hadn’t caught you.”
She just glares. “My bus, my patient.”
I hold up my hands. “Fine, sorry for nothing, then. Damn.”
She reaches for the syringe still in my hand. “Give me that.” She snatches it from me as I extend it to her. “You can’t threaten patients. Who the fuck trained you?”
“If the patient is acting a fool and risking the safety of the medics trying to help him, I sure as fuck can. I didn’t threaten him, anyway. Not with anything you weren’t about to do.”
She goes nose to nose with me—well, nose to collarbone, since she’s several inches shorter than me; her glare is impressively intimidating, but it’s somewhat undercut by the fact that as she sidles up and stands nose to nose with me, holding her ground and glaring fit to murder, her breasts press against my chest, and that’s all I can fucking think about.
“My bus,” she repeats, slowly, furiously, “my patient. Go back to your fire and your hoses and leave me the hell alone.”
I hold her gaze and try like hell to keep my eyes from wandering down to her generous, button-straining chest.
I fail.
Her hiss of disgust is…well, if it could be used as a weapon, I’d be dead.
She presses all five fingers of both hands into my chest and pushes me away, eyes stabbing murderous fury into mine. “Go…away.”
I back up slowly, holding her eyes. “You’re welcome.” I wink at her, shooting her the grin which, according to the guys at the station, is guaranteed to melt panties at fifty paces.
She growls like a cornered raccoon; her panties are decidedly not melted.
I hold up my hands palms out. “Damn, girl. Don’t shoot. I was just trying to help. It’s instinct.”
“Well take your instincts and fuck off.” She pivots away from me, heading toward her bus, where the Black medic is currently wrestling the gurney down, the patient still muttering imprecations under his breath.
Fuck, fuck, and double-fuck—the girl is all curves. If her tits were about to pop the buttons off her shirt, her ass is popping the seams of her uniform slacks. Not tall, maybe five-six, five-seven at most, she’s one hundred percent hot-as-fuck, mind-altering, cock-hardening, dead-sexy curves.
I don’t even try to not stare at her ass as she helps pull the gurney off the bus. I can’t not stare—it’s a biological imperative.
She stops and shoots a glare at me over her shoulder. “Quit staring at my ass.”
“I’m trying, I swear. Not my fault you’ve got an ass that don’t quit.”
There’s a muffled cough from her partner, and his eyes cut to mine, expressing amusement he dares not otherwise let her see. “We’d better get Mr. Wilson into treatment before the sheer stubbornness that’s keeping him alive wears off.”
I finally manage to rip myself away from the sexy medic and her hypnotic ass. Head for my truck, climb behind the wheel, start the motor…and go nowhere.
She’s pushing from the back end while her partner pulls from the front—I just can’t resist one last long, lingering look as she vanishes inside.
“That is one hell of a woman,” I say out loud.
She hates me, but goddamn is she gorgeous. And honestly, the fiery fury of her is intoxicating. I don’t know her name, but I know I’ll be dreaming about her tonight.
NEW YORK TIMES, USA TODAY, WALL STREET JOURNALand international bestselling author Jasinda Wilder is a Michigan native with a penchant for titillating tales about sexy men and strong women. Her bestselling titles include ALPHA, STRIPPED, WOUNDED, and the #1 Amazon and international bestseller FALLING INTO YOU. You can find her on her farm in Northern Michigan with her husband, author Jack Wilder, her six children and menagerie of animals.
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