Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance Release Date: January 10, 2022
Excited about Vi Keeland’s upcoming release, The Summer Proposal? Check out this SNEAK PEEK of CHAPTER 1!
CHAPTER 1
Georgia
“What can I get you?” The bartender set a napkin down in front of me.
“Ummm… I’m meeting someone, so maybe I should wait.”
He rapped his knuckles against the bar. “Good enough. I’ll keep my eye out and stop back over when I see someone join you.”
But as he started to walk away, I reconsidered. “Actually!” I raised my hand like I was in school.
He turned around with a smile and arched a brow. “Change your mind?”
I nodded. “I’m about to meet a blind date, so I wanted to be polite, but I think I could use something to take the edge off.”
“Probably a good idea. What are you drinking?”
“A pinot grigio would be great. Thank you.”
He came back a few minutes later with a hefty pour and leaned his elbow on the bar. “So, blind date, huh?”
I sipped my wine and let out a sigh as I nodded. “I let my mom’s seventy-four-year-old friend Frannie set me up with her grandnephew to make my mom happy. She described him as ‘a smidge ordinary, but nice’. We’re supposed to meet here at five thirty. I’m a few minutes early.”
“First time letting someone fix you up?”
“Second, actually. The first was seven years ago. It took me this long to recover from it, if that tells you anything.”
The bartender laughed. “That bad?”
“I was told he was a comedian. So I figured, how terrible could it be going out with someone who makes people laugh for a living? The guy showed up with a puppet. Apparently his comedy act was as a ventriloquist. He refused to speak to me directly—wanted me to talk only to his dummy. Who, by the way, was named Dirty Dave, and every other comment out of its mouth was obscene. Oh, and my date’s mouth moved the entire time, so he wasn’t even a very good ventriloquist.”
“Damn.” The bartender chuckled. “Not sure I’d give another blind date a chance after that, even after a few years.”
I sighed. “I’m sort of regretting it already.”
“Well, if anyone comes in with a puppet, I got you covered.” He gestured toward a hallway behind him. “I know where all the emergency exits are, and I can sneak you out.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
A couple sat down on the other end of the bar, so the bartender went to help them while I continued to stare at the entrance. I’d purposely taken a seat in the back corner so I could watch the front door, hoping to get a look at my date before he saw me. Not that I planned to ditch if he wasn’t handsome, but I didn’t want him to read disappointment on my face if I felt any. I’d always been terrible at masking my feelings.
A few minutes later, the restaurant’s door opened and a drop-dead gorgeous guy walked in. He looked like he belonged on a men’s cologne ad, probably emerging from crystal blue Caribbean water. I got excited, until I realized he couldn’t be my date.
Frannie had described Adam as a computer nerd. And pretty much any question I’d asked her about him, she’d answered, “About average.”
How tall is he? About average.
Is he handsome? About average.
Body type? About average.
This guy was tall, with broad shoulders, big, blue bedroom eyes, a chiseled jawline, dark hair that was sort of messy, but totally worked for him, and even though he was wearing a simple dress shirt and slacks, I could tell he was buff underneath. Frannie would have to be crazy to think anything about him was average.
Oh.
Oh!
Well, she was a little…different. Last time I went to Florida to see Mom, we went to lunch with Frannie, and she’d glowed orange from an excessive amount of self-tanner she’d bought on the Home Shopping Network. She also spent all afternoon telling us about her recent road trip to New Mexico to attend a UFO convention in Roswell.
But even with that factored in, this guy didn’t look like a computer nerd. Nevertheless, his eyes scanned the room, and when they met mine, he smiled.
Dimples.
Deep ones.
Oh, Lord. My heart did a little pitter-patter.
Could I be this lucky?
Apparently it was possible. Because the guy headed right toward me. I probably should’ve played it cool and looked away, but it was impossible not to stare.
“Adam?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
I thought that was a bit of an odd response, but his smile widened, and those cavernous dimples seemed to turn my brain to mush.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Frannie. My mom is friends with Georgia.” I shook my head. “Sorry. I mean, I’m Georgia. My mom is friends with Frannie.”
“Nice to meet you, Georgia.”
He extended his hand, and when I placed mine in it, mine felt really…small.
“I have to say, you are definitely not what I was expecting. Frannie didn’t describe you very accurately.”
“Better or worse?”
Was he joking? “She may have described you as a nerd.”
He sat down on the stool next to me. “I usually don’t admit this when I first meet a woman, but I do have a Star Wars action figure collection.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “In fact, I almost always have one on me. I’m a bit superstitious, and they bring me luck.”
Adam unfolded his big hand to reveal a tiny Yoda. He leaned over and set it on the bar in front of me, and a hint of cologne wafted through the air. Smells as good as he looks. There had to be something majorly wrong with him.
“Women tend to not like Star Wars for some reason,” he said. “Or a grown man carrying around an action figure.”
“I actually like Star Wars.”
He put his hand over his heart. “A beautiful woman who likes Star Wars? Should we skip the formalities and just grab a flight to Vegas to get married?”
I laughed. “Maybe, but first promise me you aren’t into ventriloquism.”
He crossed his heart. “Star Wars is as bad as it gets.”
The bartender came over to take Adam’s drink order. I was surprised when he asked for a Diet Coke.
“You’re not going to join me for a cocktail or a glass of wine?”
He shook his head. “Wish I could, but I have to work later.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I wish I didn’t. But I actually need to get out of here in a little while.”
I’d thought we were meeting for drinks and dinner, but perhaps Frannie had gotten that wrong.
“Oh, okay.” I forced a smile.
Apparently Adam saw right through it.
“I swear I’m not making that up. I do have to work. But I definitely would love to stay. Since I can’t, is it too early to say I’d love to see you again?”
I sipped my wine. “Hmmm… I’m not sure about that. Normally, I get to know someone on a first date, so I can weed out the serial killers and nutjobs. How am I supposed to know you’re not the next Ted Bundy if you’re running out of here?”
Adam stroked the scruff on his chin and looked at his watch. “I have about fifteen minutes. Why don’t we cut the small talk and you can ask me anything?”
“Anything?”
He shrugged. “I’m an open book. Take your best shot.”
I gulped my wine and turned in my seat to face him. “Alright. But I want to watch your face as I grill you. I’m terrible at hiding lies on mine but great at reading others.”
He smiled and turned, giving me his full attention. “Go for it.”
“Okay. Do you live with your mother?”
“No, ma’am. She doesn’t even live in the same state. But I do call home every Sunday.”
“Have you ever been arrested?”
“Public indecency in college. I was pledging a fraternity, and me and a bunch of other guys had to walk through the center of town naked. A group of girls stopped us and asked if any of us could hula hoop. Everyone else kept walking. I figured they were all too chicken, so I stopped. Apparently, the guys weren’t afraid; I was just the only one who didn’t see the cop coming out of a store a couple of doors down.”
I laughed. “Can you actually hula hoop?”
He winked. “Only naked. You wanna see?”
The smile on my face widened. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Shame.”
“When was the last time you had sex?”
For the first time, the smile on his face wilted. “Two weeks ago. Are you gonna hold that against me?”
I shook my head. “Not necessarily. I appreciate the honesty. You could have lied and said a while ago.”
“Okay, good. What else you got?”
“Have you ever been in a relationship?”
“Twice. Once in college for a year, and then I dated a woman for eighteen months, and that ended two years ago.”
“Why did they end?”
“College, because I was twenty and…it was a crazy time in my life. And the woman I dated a few years back, because she wanted to get married and start a family, and I wasn’t ready.”
I tapped my pointer to my bottom lip. “Hmm… Yet you just asked me to go to Vegas and marry you.”
He grinned. “She didn’t like Star Wars.”
We were both too busy laughing to notice a guy walk up to us. I figured he must have known Adam, so I politely smiled and looked to him. But the guy spoke to me.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but are you Georgia Delaney?”
“Yes?”
He smiled. “I’m Adam Foster. Frannie showed me a picture of you, but it was from a costume party.” He motioned to the side of his head, twirling his hand around in a circle. “You were dressed as Princess Leia, with your hair all pinned up on the sides, so you looked a little different than you do now.”
I furrowed my brow. “You’re…Adam?”
The guy seemed just as confused as I was. “Yes.”
Now this man looked like what I’d been expecting: worn, brown tweed jacket, cropped hair parted to one side—sort of the average Joe that worked in the IT department at your office. But…
If he was Adam, then who was this?
I looked at the guy sitting next to me for an answer. Though that’s not what I got.
“Did you really dress as Princess Leia for a Halloween party?”
“Yes, but…”
Adam, or whoever the hell the guy sitting next to me was, put his finger over my lips and turned to the man who was apparently my date. “Can you just give us a minute?” he asked.
“Umm…sure.”
As soon as average Adam walked away, I laid into hot Adam. “Who the hell are you?”
“Sorry. My name is Max.”
“Do you make a habit of pretending to be someone else?”
He shook his head. “I just…I saw you sitting at the bar through the window when I was passing by, and you had such a pretty smile. I came over to introduce myself, and it was clear you were here to meet someone else. I guess I sort of panicked that you weren’t going to talk to me since I wasn’t Adam. So I went with it.”
“And what if my date hadn’t showed up? Would you have pretended to be Adam on a second date?”
Max dragged a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
Normally catching a date in a lie would make me angry, but finding out Max wasn’t Adam was more disappointing than anything. We’d had great chemistry, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much meeting someone new.
“Was every answer a lie? Do you even like Star Wars?”
He held up both hands. “I swear. The only thing that wasn’t the truth was my name.”
I sighed. “Well, Max, thanks for the entertainment. But I don’t want to keep my real date waiting.”
He frowned, but nodded and stood. “It was nice meeting you. I guess asking for your number would be stupid right about now?”
I gave him a look. “Yes, it would. Have a good night, Max.”
He looked at me for a few seconds, then slipped a bill out of his wallet and tossed a hundred on the counter. “You, too, Georgia. I really enjoyed meeting you.”
Max took a few steps away, but then stopped and walked back. He again took out his billfold, only this time he peeled off what looked like a ticket of some sort and placed it on the bar in front of me. “I’d really love to see you again. If your real date turns out to be a dud or you change your mind, I promise I will never tell you another lie.” He pointed to the ticket. “I’ll be at the hockey game over at the Garden at seven thirty, if you would consider giving me another shot.”
What he said seemed heartfelt, but I was here to meet another man. Not to mention, I was really disappointed. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
With a sullen face, Max nodded one last time before walking away. I didn’t have time to process everything, but I felt a strange sense of loss when I watched him walk out the door. Though as soon as he disappeared from sight, my real date was next to me.
I had to force a smile. “Sorry about that. We, um, just had some business to wrap up.”
“No problem.” He smiled. “I’m just glad that guy wasn’t hitting on you, and I didn’t have to defend your honor. He was a tank.” Real Adam sat down. “Can I order you another wine?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“So…I take it you’re a big Star Wars fan?”
“Hmm? Oh, because of the costume.”
Adam pointed to the bar. “And the little Yoda.”
I looked down. Max had left his Yoda figurine behind. I guess he hadn’t been lying about being a Star Wars fan, considering he carried an action figure in his pocket. At least I hoped it wasn’t just a prop he used when he told strangers tall tales at bars and lied about his name.
***
Real Adam talked about artificial intelligence—a lot.
I tried to get my head back in the game after the Max letdown, but I knew before my actual date and I had finished a drink at the bar that this would be our only date. Adam was a nice-enough guy; there was just no connection, physical or mental. I wasn’t into computers or Bitcoin, which seemed to be a big thing for him, and he wasn’t into any of my hobbies, such as hiking, traveling, and watching old black-and-white movies. He didn’t even enjoy going to the movies. Who doesn’t love bingeing on popcorn and a gallon of soda while watching a big screen? Not to mention, when I told him about my work, he said he was allergic to flowers.
So when the waitress came by with a dessert menu, I politely declined.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a coffee or something?” Adam asked.
I shook my head. “I have to work in the morning. Having caffeine after noon keeps me up all night. But thank you.”
He nodded, though I could tell he was disappointed.
Outside the restaurant, he offered to share a cab, but I only lived eight blocks away. So I extended my hand to set the tone for the end of the evening.
“It was very nice to meet you, Adam.”
“You, too. Maybe we can…do this again sometime?”
It was so much easier to be upfront and tell a guy there wouldn’t be a second date when he was a jerk. But I always struggled with the nice ones. I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. Take care, Adam.”
It was late April, but the cold weather just wouldn’t relent and allow spring to start this year, and a gust of wind blew while I waited at the intersection at the corner of the restaurant. I shoved my hands into my pockets for some warmth, and inside, something pointy pricked at my fingers. I slipped it out to see what it was.
Yoda.
His plastic ears were tapered to points, and there was a tiny chip on the left one. I’d forgotten I’d stuck him in my pocket when Adam and I had moved from the bar to a table. Looking down at him, I sighed. God, why couldn’t your owner have been my actual date tonight?
It had been a very long time since a man gave me the warm fuzzies in the pit of my belly—not since the day I’d met Gabriel. So maybe finding Yoda in my pocket was a sign? The light changed, and I walked a few more blocks, lost in thought.
Did it really matter that he’d pretended to be Adam? I mean, if he was telling the truth, he only did it so I’d talk to him. Let’s face it, if he had walked over and introduced himself as Max, I wouldn’t have invited him to sit down. I would have been polite and told him I was waiting for my date, no matter how gorgeous the man was. So, I couldn’t really say I blamed him…I guess.
I stopped for another red light at the crosswalk on 29th Street, this time at the corner of 7th as I made my way down to 2nd Avenue where I lived. While I waited, I looked to my right, and the neon lights of a sign hit me. Madison Square Garden. Now that was definitely a sign—quite literally. Between Yoda and walking right past the place Fake Adam had said he’d be…perhaps it was more than that.
I checked the time on my phone. Twenty after eight. He’d said he would be there at seven thirty, but I was sure the game took a few hours. Should I?
I nibbled on my lip as the light in front of me turned green. People on both sides of me started to walk…but I just stood there, staring down at Yoda.
Screw it.
Why not?
What do I have to lose?
The worst that could happen was that our initial connection fizzled or it turned out lying was one of Fake Adam’s hobbies. Or…the spark we’d had might lead to just the distraction I was looking for. I wouldn’t know unless I tried.
For the most part, I was pretty conservative with my choices in men. And look where that had gotten me. I was a twenty-eight-year-old workaholic, going on blind dates with my mom’s friend’s relatives. So screw it—I was going.
Once I made the decision, I couldn’t wait to get there. I practically jogged to Madison Square Garden, even in my heels from work. Inside, I showed my ticket to an usher standing at the entrance to the section listed, and he showed me to my seat.
As I walked down the stadium stairs, I looked around and noticed I was pretty overdressed. Most of the people had on jerseys and jeans. There were even a few shirtless guys with their bodies painted, and here I was wearing a cream silk blouse, red pencil skirt, and my favorite Valentino pumps. At least Max had been pretty dressed up.
I hadn’t noticed the row number on the ticket before handing it over to the usher, but the seats must’ve been decent because we just kept walking down toward the ice. When we hit the very first row, the usher extended his hand. “Here you go. Seat two is the second one in.”
“Wow, first row, directly in the middle on the fifty-yard line.”
The guy smiled. “In hockey we call it center ice.”
“Oh…okay.” But the seat next to the one he’d shown me to was empty, and Max was nowhere in sight. “Did you happen to see the person sitting in the seat at the end?” I asked.
The usher shrugged. “I’m not positive, but I don’t think they’ve arrived yet. Enjoy the game, miss.”
After he walked away, I stood looking down at the two empty seats. This was one outcome I hadn’t thought about: I might get stood up. Actually, would it even be considered standing someone up if the other person didn’t know you were coming? I wasn’t sure. But I was here, so I might as well take a seat and see if Max showed. He’d said he had to work, so perhaps he was running late. Or maybe he was already here, just in the men’s room or in line for a beer.
A woman sat on the other side of me. She smiled as I settled in. “Hi. Are you here to watch Yearwood? He’s on fire tonight, already slashed two in the net. Too bad they’re probably not going to be able to hold onto him for next season.”
I shook my head. “Oh. No, I’m actually meeting someone. I’ve never been to a live hockey game before.” Just as I said it, two guys slammed into the glass wall directly in front of me. I jumped, and the woman next to me laughed as they skated away.
“That happens a lot. You’ll get used to it.” She reached out her hand. “I’m Jenna, by the way. I’m married to Tomasso.” She pointed to the rink. “Number twelve.”
“Oh, wow. I guess I’m sitting next to the right person for my first game.” I put my hand to my chest. “I’m Georgia.”
“Anything you want explained, Georgia, you just let me know.”
For the next twenty minutes, I tried to watch the game. But I kept looking around to see if Max was coming down the stairs. Unfortunately, he never did. By nine o’clock, it was pretty clear I’d wasted my time. Since I had early meetings tomorrow morning, I decided to call it a night. The game clock showed less than a minute until the end of the second period, so I figured I’d wait until then so I wouldn’t be blocking people’s views as I climbed the stairs back up to the exit. These hockey fans seemed pretty into the game.
When the clock hit nine seconds, one of the guys scored a goal, and the place went crazy again. Everyone jumped up, so I did the same, only I used it as an opportunity to slip on my jacket. I leaned to the woman next to me and yelled. “I don’t think my date’s coming, so I’m going to head out. Have a good night.”
But as I turned to leave, something caught my attention on the Jumbotron. The player who’d scored held his stick up in the air celebrating, and a bunch of the guys on his team were whacking him on the head. His helmet covered most of his face, but those eyes… I know those eyes. The player took out his mouth guard, waved it in the air, and smiled right at the camera.
Dimples.
Big ones.
My eyes went wide.
No…it couldn’t be.
I continued to stare at the screen with my mouth hanging open until the guy’s face was no longer on it.
The woman next to me finished cheering. “See? I told you he was on fire. If this is your first game, you’ve picked a good one to watch. You don’t see a lot of hat tricks in a single period. Yearwood is having his best season ever. Too bad the rest of his team isn’t.”
“Yearwood? That’s the name of the guy who just scored?”
Jenna laughed at my question. “Yup. Team captain and arguably the best player in the NHL these days. They call him Pretty Boy for obvious reasons.”
“What’s his first name?”
“Max. I figured you knew him, since those are his seatsyou’re sitting in.”
★★★
Excited? We are too!
RELEASING JANUARY 10th!
ABOUT THE BOOK
The first time I met Max Yearwood was on a blind date. Max was insanely gorgeous, funny, and our chemistry was off the charts. He also had the biggest dimples I’d ever laid eyes on. Exactly what I needed after my breakup. Or so I thought… Until my real date arrived. Turned out, Max wasn’t who I was there to meet. He only pretended to be until my real date showed up. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. Before he left, he slipped me a ticket to a hockey game a few blocks away, in case things didn’t work out on my actual date. I tossed the ticket into my purse and went about trying to enjoy the man I was supposed to meet. But my real blind date and I had no connection. So on my way home, I decided to take a chance and stop by the game. When I arrived, the seat next to me was empty. Disappointed again, I decided to leave at the end of the period. Just before the buzzer, one of the teams scored, and the entire arena went crazy. A player’s face flashed up on the Jumbotron. He was wearing a helmet, but I froze when he smiled. You guessed it: Dimples. Apparently, my fake blind date hadn’t invited me to watch hockey with him, he’d invited me to watch him play. And so began my adventure with Max Yearwood. He was everything I needed at the time—fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months since he’d signed with a new team three-thousand miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans.
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AUTHOR BIO
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-six languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria, and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
A sociopath has stalked me mercilessly for eight years. It’s only a matter of time before he kills me. Until I meet Tolyan.
He bursts into my life like a god of vengeance, seething with raw power and danger, trained to protect—or kill. He has a scowl for the world, but for some reason, he’s gentle with me and the combination of deadly power leashed only for me makes my heart flutter.
One night, he kills a man and I realize he’s the answer I’ve been searching for, if I can convince him to help.
Tolyan
Ten years ago, a man murdered the mother of my child. It’s time he pays. And I’ve finally found what he wants—Angelika.
Those wide innocent eyes and a smart mouth that makes me laugh are things I love about her. But she’s going to be my perfect bait, willing and obedient. All I have to do is not fall for her…
“Look, I know I sound crazy, but please. I’m not.” Her words come out fast and desperate. “My stepbrother’s a psychopath. He’s been harassing me, and the police say they can’t do anything until he does something more physically threatening. Apparently, playing mind games doesn’t count. He has to do something concrete.”
That’s always the case. Mental torture is far superior, and it’s much harder for law enforcement to deal with, especially when the target keeps moving. It’s virtually impossible to build a case among so many different jurisdictions. That’s one reason the most prolific serial killers generally kill across state lines.
Roy Wilks is a cunning little jackal. It’s so simple to break a person. And you don’t even have to touch them to do that.
Just look at this girl. She wouldn’t be asking a man she barely knows for help if she hadn’t been driven almost to her breaking point. For all I know, she might be broken already.
“I can pay you,” she adds. “I have some money saved up. Just in case.” Just in case I need to hire somebody to take my brother out is what she really wants to say.
I raise my eyebrows. The last time I checked, she had nine thousand and fifty-six dollars and twenty-two cents in her bank account. According to the statements over the years, she’s been saving a little bit at a time, despite working minimum-wage jobs.
It came with sacrifice. She doesn’t go to movies, doesn’t go out, doesn’t buy anything except the bare essentials—clearance-rack clothes and shoes—and she eats only what’s cheapest. Given her reaction last night, I’m pretty sure she skips meals when she can.
The notion puts a nasty taste in my mouth. People who don’t need killing should eat.
“I can give you all of it,” she says, then nods for emphasis. “It’s all yours.”
“I don’t want your money,” I say.
Her chin comes up as fire sparks in her whiskey gaze. “Look, it’s not a small amount. I have almost ten grand.”
“I don’t care if you have ten billion.”
Her fingers tighten. Her hand is barely large enough to circle half my forearm, but she’s trying her best to hold on to me.
For a reason I can’t quite identify, I like that. And because I like it, I want to be a jerk about what she’s saying even though I’m going to say yes at the end anyway. I don’t want her knowing how much I enjoy this small contact.
Before I can say anything, her mouth firms. “Okay. I hate to have to use this, but… I know what you did last night.”
“You do?”
She nods.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
I give her a purposefully salacious smile. “I should update my security. I didn’t know you were watching me masturbate in the shower.”
Her face flushes.
I let my smile grow wider. “I came hard. Twice. Hope you enjoyed it. If I’d known you were watching, I would’ve—”
“No!” She hunches her shoulders as though just realizing how loud she was. “I meant,” she hisses, “I saw you at the house. The man in the news today who supposedly committed suicide. You…suicided him, didn’t you?”
Suicided. When did that become a verb? “You were there? At the house?”
“Yes.” She tries for a hard-bitten stare.
This is an amusing turn of events. I didn’t expect her to attempt to blackmail me. What’s next? Trying to strangle me into submission? She just might, from the desperation in her eyes. Whatever she got in the package from her stepbrother freaked the hell out of her.
Strangely enough, I want her to try to put her hands on my bare skin, even if it’s around my neck. Of course I’m too tall for her to strangle me while standing, so she’d have to pull me down to the ground, then straddle me, her inner thighs pressed tightly against my sides. As she strained—futilely—her hot breath would fan my face, her eyes burning into mine. When I’d had enough, it’d be child’s play to flip her over, watch her gasp while she was spread underneath my much bigger and stronger body. And I’d enjoy the realization dawning in those whiskey eyes that she was utterly in my power.
“I’m very willing to go to the police.” Her words break my thoughts.
I almost laugh. She honestly believes she was good enough to tail me without my noticing. Either she’s lost her better judgment, or she’s too desperate to think clearly.
“And I’ll tell them everything I saw,” she says, her hands in tight fists.
I let out a soft sigh. Her threat is about as serious as a kitten smacking a lion with its tiny paw. “And after I fed you dinner last night.”
Her throat works as she swallows. She shifts her weight and looks like she wishes she could sink into the concrete. Ashamed, aren’t you, little fawn? You have a functioning conscience. A liability in my business.
“That’s…different.” She can’t meet my gaze. Her face is red, too.
She’s cute. “Ah, yes. Say thank you for the sandwich, then run to the cops and put the man in jail. Two very different activities.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“I don’t know what kind of person you think I am, but I’m not for hire. I’m too busy with my job at the foundation as an assistant.”
Confusion crosses her pretty face. She probably thought I worked in security. Cute. Very cute.
I pull out some money from my pocket, then smack it square into her hand. “Here. Take this and buy yourself something nice.”
“Ow!” She gasps, but not because I just placed three hundred bucks in her hand. “What did you…?” she says numbly. She tries to look at her hand, but her legs start to fold.
I catch her and pick her up, like Prince Charming carrying his Cinderella. She grows increasingly limp, her eyes unfocused. “Wha…”
“Don’t worry.” I smile. “The needle’s very thin. You won’t even find the hole when you wake up.”
—–
“I could strip, too.”
And talk to him while he’s sitting there naked? Given how shameless he is, I doubt he’d cover himself. No. He’d sit there, one ankle over the other knee, and smoke his cigar and sip his water, like he has the world at his feet.
“That’s…okay,” I say finally.
“If you’re certain. Just let me know if you change your mind. I wouldn’t want a guest feeling uncomfortable.”
If you wanted me to feel comfortable, you’d give me my clothes back! But the words stay trapped in my mouth. Right now, that isn’t the point.
The point is, I’m in his home. Under his control. I could put up the best fight of my life, but it would be about as effective as a mouse fighting a panther. I really wish I’d been able to snag a knife from the kitchen.
“So. Now that you can’t just run off to the authorities when you hear answers you don’t like, talk. Tell me why you came to me.”
AUTHOR BIO
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Nadia Lee writes sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Born with a love for excellent food, travel and adventure, she has lived in four different countries, kissed stingrays, been bitten by a shark, ridden an elephant and petted tigers.
Currently, she shares a condo overlooking a small river and sakura trees in Japan with her husband and son. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading books by her favoriteauthors or planning another trip.
Change with Me, an all new and stunning Hollywood romance filled with white-hot chemistry from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby and 1,001 Dark Nights, is available now!
From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes an all new novella set in her beloved With Me In Seattle series…
Zane Cooper. Hollywood royalty. Fourth generation superstar. He knows what it is to be one of the biggest celebrities in the world. And how lonely that title truly is. When scandal hits, his career hangs in the balance, and Zane flees LA for Seattle, laying low with his newly married best friend. Things will eventually blow over, and he’ll have his life back soon enough.
Aubrey Stansfield arrives in Seattle excited to start a new job, and eager to settle into her new home. But when she arrives at her rental, Aubrey’s sure she’s imagining things because the uber sexy Zane Cooper is unpacking in her new bedroom. Thanks to a rental snafu, and unwilling to relocate on such short notice, Aubrey and Zane are thrust into being roommates.
Aubrey is about as average as a woman gets, so what could the megastar possibly see in her? She tells herself she’s not interested, despite their undeniable chemistry. But Zane is very persuasive, and soon Aubrey finds herself playing house with the most recognized man on the planet. Deep down, she knows it’s all a fantasy. He’ll head back to his posh lifestyle soon and leave her behind. No way could she fall in love with him.
But love doesn’t always follow the rules…
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
My heart jumps, and my stomach jolts as I spin and see a man walk out of the master bath. He’s tall. He’s frowning.
And he looks familiar.
“The question is, who are you?” Why did I leave my purse—and my mace—in the kitchen?
“You’re in my condo,” he retorts.
“No, you’re in my condo,” I reply and cross my arms over my chest, trying to look mean. “This is two-oh-three A. Mine. If you’re going to murder-death-kill me, I’m going to ask you to take today off and do it to someone else because I’ve had a long drive, and I need to get ready for my new job. Now, see yourself out.”
Is that me, sounding all calm and collected?
I’m never this calm. Or collected.
Seattle is clearly good for me.
“I hate to burst your bubble,” the stranger replies, “but I’m not leaving. I leased this place, and I’m moving in today.”
“But.” I frown. “I leased this place. And I’m moving in today.”
I stomp out of the bedroom and head straight for the kitchen, opening my bag to retrieve my phone.
I also set my mace on the counter, just in case.
“I can show you the lease.”
“Same,” he replies. “Landlord fucked up.”
I blink, open my mouth, then close it again.
“What’s in here?” He opens my pink box and surveys the goods. “These cake donuts are my weakness.”
Before my eyes, he grabs one and takes a big bite.
“So now you’re stealing my house and my food?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” he says with a full mouth. “Well, except the donut.”
“You’re going to have to move,” I inform him. “I already paid for the first month and the security deposit.”
“I paid six months in advance,” he says, swallows, and then smiles. Suddenly, I know exactly where I’ve seen him before.
This is Zane Cooper. The actor. The celebrity.
He must see the recognition in my eyes because his go ice-cold.
“I can’t afford to find a new place,” I inform him. “It took me a month to find this one. And it’s perfect for me. It’s less than six blocks from the school I’ll be teaching at, so I can walk every day. And it’s furnished. Plus, it’s close to the water.”
“Definitely perfect,” he agrees.
“Oh my God, why are you here?” I demand and prop my hands on my hips. “You’re a gazillionaire. You could literally go anywhere. Why do you want my condo?”
“I’m not a gazillionaire,” he says and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m more of a trazillionaire.”
“Pretty sure that’s the same thing. So, go build your own building and live in it.”
“Nah.” He picks a piece of donut out of his teeth and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think I will. I’ll stay here.”
I blink at him and start to feel helpless. My savings is in this place. I don’t have enough left to rent anything else.
And I don’t have time. I start work in just three days.
Part of me wants to cry, but I’ll be damned if I let this hoity-toity movie star see me upset.
So, I do the only thing I can think of.
I prop my fist on the opposite hand in a challenge of rock, paper, scissors.
“What are you doing?” he asks, raising one sexy eyebrow.
“The adult thing,” I reply primly. “Best out of three wins?”
He blinks twice, looks from my hands to my face and back again, then shrugs one muscular shoulder and assumes the position.
“Fine,” he says. “I’m going to win—wait. What’s your name?”
“Aubrey,” I say and lick my lips. “Aubrey Stansfield. And you’re Wyatt Earp.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile. “I only played him on TV.”
I chuckle and say, “Ready?”
“Go,” he says, and we thump our fists three times.
I land on scissors.
He fists for rock.
Damn it.
“Let’s go again,” Zane says.
One. Two. Three.
I land on paper.
He chooses rock again.
I grin, and his blue eyes smile back.
There’s a reason Zane Cooper is the hottest sex symbol in the world. Good God, I might combust just from standing next to him.
All the more reason to get him out of my house.
“Last one,” I say. “Go.”
One. Two. Three.
I land on paper again, assuming Zane only knows how to use rock.
But he forms scissors.
I breathe deeply and reach for my last damn donut.
“That’s mine,” he says, and I whirl on him.
“This is mine,” I reply hotly. “I stood in a bloody line in Portland for it, just this morning. I drove all the way here from Arizona. I’m tired. I’m a little scared. And now I have you in my house, and you won’t leave. Even better than that, you just stole it out from under me.”
“I won it,” he reminds me. “Fair and square. The donut, that is.”
I stop and frown at him. “Huh?”
“I won the donut. In the rock-paper-scissors game.”
“I was playing for the condo, Wyatt.”
He barks out a laugh. “Not me. I want that donut.”
About Kristen Proby
Kristen was born and raised in a small resort town in her beloved Montana. In her mid-twenties, she decided to stretch her wings and move to the Pacific Northwest, where she made her home for more than a dozen years.
During that time, Kristen wrote many romance novels and joined organizations such as RWA and other small writing groups. She spent countless hours in workshops, and more mornings than she can count up before the dawn so she could write before going to work. She submitted many manuscripts to agents and editors alike, but was always told no. In the summer of 2012, the self-publishing scene was new and thriving, and Kristen had one goal: to publish just one book. It was something she longed to cross off of her bucket list.
Not only did she publish one book, she’s since published close to thirty titles, many of which have hit the USA Today, New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists. She continues to self publish, best known for her With Me In Seattle and Boudreaux series, and is also proud to work with William Morrow, a division of HarperCollins, with the Fusion Series.
Kristen and her husband, John, make their home in her hometown of Whitefish, Montana with their two pugs and two cats.
Title: Don’t Cry Over Spilled MILF Series: G.D. Taylors #4 Authors: Willow Aster & Laura Pavlov
Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: November 18, 2021
BLURB
A hot, sexy playboy and a gorgeous single mother who wants nothing to do with him. Buckle up, Susannah Brighton. Gus is coming for you. No pun intended.
Susannah I make my living writing romance. I prefer my heroes to remain fictional. But Gus Taylor is better than anything I could have dreamed up. Sexy and funny and dauntingly handsome. My little girl and I have been on our own for a long time and that’s the way I want to keep it. But Gus Taylor makes me question everything I believe.
Gus I’m a good-time guy. I’ve always worn the title with pride. But from the moment Susannah Brighton moves next door, I’m a goner. And she’s got a little girl. In the beginning, I think she’s just a mom I’d like to—forget about it. All that’s changed now that I know Susannah and her angelic daughter. I’ll do whatever it takes to win her over. Because when you know, you know. And I plan on writing myself into her happily ever after.
“I don’t want to have dinner with you tonight. That’s it.” She takes a step back and claps her hands together a few times as if she’s brushing off some crumbs. “I am happy to pay you for the job with a dinner here at the apartment with Olive as we negotiated. But a date is not going to be payment.”
I gasp. “I’m not a whore. I want to take you out to dinner because I’m attracted to you, not because I expect payment.”
I turn and storm toward the bookshelves because now I’m offended. And I don’t get offended.
Aside from my disdain for olives, I’m an even-keeled dude. And I don’t need to beg for a date. I have a slew of ladies dying for me to take them out.
“I wasn’t saying you were a … prostitute,” she says, and her tone is much softer now.
I don’t turn around even though I’m dying to, because I like that she’s being nicer now.
I have no shame in my game if making her feel guilty gets her to sway my way.
“It’s fine,” I say, as I run my hands along the wood, giving her a nice look at my oversized hands. They happen to match certain other body parts. I sniff the air, frowning. “I don’t smell cookies either. Clearly, you don’t keep your end of the bargain.”
“You had cookies yesterday,” she huffs and I grin at the bookshelves. She is so fun to rile up.
“Today’s a new day,” I say quietly. “And since you’re not agreeable to dinner tonight and you’re making me wait until Friday, and I don’t want your money, I would take a cookie or five today. I deserve something today, don’t I?”
#2
“She’s coming. Hop back in the elevator so it will look like it just stopped to let you off.” I see her walking toward the building and I hurry into the elevator, yanking my brother back on.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”
“Do not make me tell Mom that you won’t help me. Put on a smile, and say something nice to me when she gets on, and pump me up,” I say, as the doors close, and then I hit the button to reopen them just as she steps in the lobby.
“See ya, brother,” I shout a little too loud.
“Uh, yes. I will see you at the office, you smart, strong man,” Spence says and I close my eyes with irritation. Dude can’t play a role if his life depends on it.
Susannah chuckles and waves at him as she moves to get on and he moves to get off.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m Spence.”
Jeez, dude. How did he even land a girl like Emma? The dude has no game.
“Hi. I’m Susannah.” Her gaze finds mine and I turn on the smold intensity like I’m going for a motherfucking Oscar. I mean, I feel it down to my core. I am owning my inner Briggs.
“Nice to meet you,” Spence says, and I push the button to close the door and flip him the bird when her back is to me.
“You too,” she calls out, before moving to the other side of the elevator and turning to face me.
“How are you, pretty girl?”
She studies me, and I wonder if that whole shtick is too much. That one worked for both Jacob and Daniel, so I’m confident she must like it.
“I’m fine. Are you coming from the gym?” Her gaze scans my body and it takes all I have not to break out in a Dirty Dancing routine that Pen and I always do when we celebrate.
“Yep. I’ve been pumping some iron this morning,” I say. I give her the look and flex my bicep at the same time, which let me tell you, is no easy feat. We’re talking Karate Kid type of preparation to pull that off. Wax on. Wax off. Full focus. And. I. Nail. It.
She bursts out in laughter and covers her mouth.
What the fuck is she laughing at?
“Wait—are you having some sort of seizure? Do you need a doctor?” she asks, and now she’s looking at me with concern.
“No, Sweetheart. I’m just suffering from a bad case of attraction. The only one who can help me is you.”
Damn. I’m silently patting myself on the back because that shit was smooth. And Briggs never even said those words. Not exactly. I put my own Gus spin on it and made some magic.
She chuckles again, but it’s better than nothing. “Is that so?”
“That is so,” I say, moving into her space.
“What do you think you need to do about that?”
Think. Don’t blow it. She said no to dinner. No to going on a date.
“I think some coffee and a muffin might be a temporary fix.”
She sucks in a breath, and I can’t even believe this shit is working. I’ve never worked so hard for a coffee date, but I’m feeling the way she’s looking at me.
Her grey eyes search mine and I swear I stop breathing in that moment.
“Sounds fair. I am hungry. How about you go grab a shower and I’ll go reply to a few emails. And then…”
“And then we’ll grab coffee. And a muffin.” I’m standing so close to her that I can’t help myself from rubbing my nose against hers. I don’t think Daniel Briggs would do this, but Gus Taylor definitely would.
She puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back just a little. “All right. I’ll meet you in the hall in twenty minutes. But it’s not a date. I don’t date.”
“I will meet you in the hall for our non-date in twenty minutes.”
The doors open and we walk in silence until she puts her key in the door and waves. “See you in a little bit, Gus Taylor.”
Laura Pavlov writes sweet and sexy contemporary romance that will make you both laugh and cry. She is happily married to her college sweetheart, mom to two awesome almost-grown kids, and dog-whisperer to a couple crazy yorkies. Laura resides in Las Vegas where she is living her own happily ever after.
Cover Design: Jersey Girl Designs @jerseygirl_design
Cover Image: JW Photography @_jw_photo_
Cover Models: Kristen Lazarus-Wood and Aidan Stewart @Kristen_laz and @aidan.stewart541
Blurb:
Savannah
A sexy, single dad and his teenage son weren’t a part of my white picket fence fairy tale, but if life has taught me anything, it’s that things don’t always work out according to plan.
Ben offers me no-strings-attached sex, but we could never be stringless.
He has a son to think about, one who’s very much a part of my life.
No matter how much I want to accept his offer, taking our relationship to the next level would leave us tangled in knots.
Benjamin
After experiencing firsthand the devastation love can cause, I knew having a family wasn’t for me. Neither was being a single dad—but here we are, trying to make it work.
The last thing I need is a distraction, but then Savannah waltzes into my world, stealing my treadmill at the gym—as well as my son’s heart.
We agreed to no strings. No complications or commitments. But I’m going back on my word because now that I know what it’s like to be with Savannah, there’s no way I’m ever letting her go.
Author Kaylee Ryan – “A sweet and sexy single dad romance. No Strings is Nikki Ash at her finest. A must-read.”
Read.Review.Repeat Blog – “”I absolutely devoured this book. It obviously didn’t take me long to get lost in the storyline and apart from having to adult every now and then I basically read this book in one sitting.”
The Romantic Rush Blog – “Yet another sweet and heartfelt love story from the effortlessly charming writing of Nikki Ash.”
Excerpt:
I’m about ten minutes into my run when the door opens, and a woman I’ve never seen before walks in. Instinctually, my eyes roam over her, taking her in. Caramel hair with various shades of blond highlights are pulled up into a loose ponytail. Tanned, toned legs are barely covered with yellow cotton shorts—if you can even call them that. I’d bet all my money, if she turned around, I’d see a hint of her ass cheeks peeking out. I chuckle at the shoes on her feet. Instead of wearing tennis shoes, she’s sporting light pink fluffy boots. Her face is free of makeup, and her tits look real—perky but not in the so-perky-they-hit-her-chin sort of way. It’s not often I see a naturally beautiful woman free of plastic surgery and makeup. Especially living in the places where I’ve lived. You want a fake woman? They’re a dime a dozen. I’ve learned the hard way women are good for one thing, to sink into and find release with. It doesn’t matter if their tits are real or fake. As long as they can handle their own in the bedroom and understand what the term no strings means, we’re good to go. Realizing I’m still staring at her, I drag my eyes back to the television, but when she comes over and steps onto the treadmill next to me, I can’t help but check out her backside. I was right. Her ass is firm, just like the rest of her body, and her shorts are so tiny, the bottom swells of her cheeks are popping out. She has this thickness to her that I can imagine grabbing ahold of in bed. This woman is either new to this building or has changed her workout time because I damn sure would’ve remembered seeing her here before. Then again, I haven’t been around much for the past several years, so it’s possible we just haven’t crossed paths.
About the Author:
FIGHTING FOR YOUR HAPPILY EVER AFTER…
Nikki Ash resides in South Florida where she is an English teacher and mom by day and a writer by night. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in her hand. From the Boxcar Children to Wuthering Heights to the latest Single Parent Romance, she has lived and breathed every type of book.
Reading is like breathing in, writing is like breathing out. – Pam Allyn
While reading and writing are her passions, her two children are her entire world. You can probably find them at a Disney park before you would find them at home on the weekends!
What if I Never?, an all new must read steamy first book in the Necklace Trilogy from New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is now available!
In the vein of her Inside Out series, New York Times Bestselling Author Lisa Renee Jones returns with the dark, seductive world of the Necklace Trilogy…
Allison Wright is delivered a package meant for a different Allison—a unique, expensive necklace. Determined to right the confusion, she seeks out the proper recipient, a journey that takes her to the doorstep of Tyler Hawk, a good looking, recluse billionaire who deals with fine collectibles such as the necklace. She also learns that Allison, his employee, quit her job registering and restoring his vast assortment of collectibles. Ironically, Allison is the daughter of a rather famous archeologist who is also employed by a local museum, and her love of such things has her jumping at the opportunity. Soon she is spending her evening and weekends immersed in the job the other Allison left behind.
As Allison begins diving into the job for Tyler, secrets about the other Allison begin to surface that have her concerned for her safety. And as she starts hunting for answers, her path crosses with the enigmatic famous author who has a business endeavor with her boss. Dash Black is a man who is dark and edgy, intense and yet quiet. Funny and yet somehow reserved. He draws her in, sets her pulse racing, and her body on fire. She knows there’s a dangerous edge to him, but she can’t seem to care. She’s addicted to everything he is and she simply can’t turn away, no matter what the cost. As Allison is drawn into the life and mystery of the other Allison, a mystery demands answers and passion burns hot. Allison will travel a path that leads to shocking truths and a side of herself she never knew existed.
His eyes soften and he catches my hand. “Come here.” I let him ease me closer, and when he pulls me onto his lap again, I say, “Am I going to end up with my hands behind my back unable to touch you again?” “Not unless you want me to tie you up and tease you.” There’s no denying the idea of Dash in control and me at his mercy, is a delicious prospect I won’t even try to deny. And so, I don’t deny anything. Instead, my arms slide around his neck, and I lean into him. “Not this time, Dash. Please.” “Well now, as long as you say please, you can have just about anything you want.” With his promise that I can have anything I want if I say please, Dash’s hands slide under the T-shirt I’m wearing and up my back. Molding me close, my breasts pressed to his hard chest. “For instance,” he says, his voice low, a rough sandpaper tease on my nerve endings. “I’ll lick you anywhere you want to be licked if you just say please.” I’m really, truly a rather shy person and no one has ever spoken to me so boldly as Dash has this night, but I’m different with Dash I’m starting to realize. More comfortable in my own skin and sexuality. I just can’t find it in me to hide from this or him. “What about where I want to kiss you?” “Where do you want to kiss me?” he asks, squeezing my backside and Lord help me I can feel the thick ridge of his erection between my thighs and through his jeans I want to be gone now. “Everywhere,” I assure him. His lips curve and he says, “Is that right?” “Oh yes, but you resist me, Dash Black.” “I assure you, Allison, I am not resisting you.” Somehow him calling me Allison in this moment is more intimate than Allie, and I don’t know why. “I want nothing more than your hands and mouth on my body,” he says. “But you’ll have to allow me to kiss you everywhere first.” He drags the T-shirt over my head and by the time it’s on the ground his hands are on my breasts, and when my hands cover his hands, his finger strokes my nipples. My fingers catch long strands of his light brown hair and I tilt his gaze to mine. Any control I’d thought to gain in that moment is lost when Dash pinches my nipples, sending darts of pleasure straight to my sex. I moan and he captures the sound with his mouth, kissing me with the kind of passion that a girl thinks she will never know because it can’t be real. Oh, but it is. It so is. My hands tunnel into his hair and when his gaze lifts to mine, I find hunger there. So much hunger, and all for me. He catches my hands and presses them behind me, bracing them on his powerful thighs, his arm wrapping my waist, securing me. Watching me now, he cups my breast and leans in, licking my nipple, sensations rippling through me, my sex clenching with impossible need, need for him.
About Lisa Renee Jones
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series. Suzanne Todd (producer of Alice in Wonderland) on the INSIDE OUT series: Lisa has created a beautiful, complicated, and sensual world that is filled with intrigue and suspense. Sara’s character is strong, flawed, complex, and sexy – a modern girl we all can identify with. Inside Out has been optioned to STARZ, Paramount, and now Marvista Entertainment. Marvista has also optioned the spin-off series, Careless Whispers.
In addition to the success of Lisa’s INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists.
Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.
Title: The Baby-whisperer and the Brute Series: Eastport Bay Billionaires #4 Author: Tru Taylor
Genre: Small Town Romantic Comedy Release Date: October 19, 2021
BLURB
You can’t appreciate all the implications of the word “conflicted” until you come face to face with the guy you’ve been secretly lusting after for weeks… and then learn he’ll be signing your paychecks—Angelina Rappaport
Some people might call me sheltered. That doesn’t begin to cover it. I’ve been practically sequestered my whole life. Constantly warned by my eccentric and reclusive mother against the “dangers of the world,” I was only allowed outside my home to attend a strict girls’ school. No parties. No sleepovers. NO boys.
Ever.
Even now in my early twenties, the extent of my social life is spending time with the adorable three and four-year-olds at the preschool where I work. I’ve hardly ever spoken to a man, except for exchanging morning greetings with the fathers of my students.
And soon, I’ll obey my mother’s wishes and enter religious service, training to be a nun.
But gazing out my bedroom window in the turret of my family’s crumbling seaside mansion, I secretly dream of a different life, one that involves freedom, adventure, love, and children of my own.
I at least want a kiss before I give up and follows my mother’s plan for my life.
Sullivan Reece
As a heavyweight boxing champion in prime condition, I can easily go twelve rounds with the toughest fighters on the planet—but when it comes to my two little girls… I’m a lightweight.
Now that my ex has declared herself “done” with mothering, and my spirited and mischievous daughters are living with me full-time, I’m realizing just how much I don’t know about raising kids. My own upbringing in a tough neighborhood left a lot to be desired—I basically raised myself, and honestly, didn’t do all that great a job of it.
And then there’s my demanding training schedule and the travel required for my career. What I really need is a live-in nanny. Yesterday.
But as newcomer to Eastport Bay, I have no idea where or how to find the right caretaker for the two most important people in my life. So when my neighbors say they know the perfect person, I jump at the chance to hire her. She has experience with children, she needs a place to live, and she’s exactly the kind of classy role model I want for my daughters.
There’s just one problem… the new nanny is everything I’m not—sweet, innocent, good. It goes without saying she’s completely off-limits.
Oh, and she’s a total knockout.
The Baby-whisperer and the Brute is a full-length small town rom com fairytale retelling of Rapunzel. It’s a standalone single dad/forbidden love/forced proximity/slow burn romance with no cheating or cliffhangers but plenty of humor and heat and a gentle bruiser with a heart of gold.
Sully “So how are the girls?” Wilder asked. “Any great escapes lately?” I chuckled. “Not one. You did a solid job. Though I could probably leave the doors unlocked these days and not worry about it. Their behavior’s gotten way better lately.” “Oh yeah? They get used to the new living arrangements?” “That… and I hired a nanny. She’s amazing with them. They’re like different kids. They absolutely love her.” He studied me with an amused half-smile. “What do you think of her?” Shrugging, I looked away at a TV screen, making my tone as blasé as possible. “I like her. She’s good with them. And she’s… nice.” Wilder sat back in his booth seat, folded his arms across his chest, and shook his head, laughing softly. “Oh man… you’ve got a thing for the nanny.” My eyes lasered to his, my tone suddenly harsh. “I do not. That would not be… smart.” He shook his head, still grinning. “No. But it would be understandable. I mean, she’s there in your house every day, taking care of your kids, making your life easier. Is she young?” I gave him a grudging nod. “Twenty-three.” Wilder nodded. “Mmmhmm. What’s her name?” There was a long moment when I hesitated, sizing up my friend across the table. “Angelina.” Wilder, who’d been in mid-sip, choked on his beer. “Angelina the hot preschool teacher? Oh, dude—you are in so much trouble. That woman is smokin’.” I battled a surge of possessive animosity, actually had to suppress a growl. “I hadn’t noticed,” I lied through gritted teeth. “She’s also planning to become a nun—did you know that?” Wilder said, clearly not buying the lie. “Maybe. She might become a nun. She’s weighing her options right now.” Wilder nodded, his lips twisting in a thoughtful expression. “I see. And do her options include being Sullivan Reece’s new woman?” I frowned. “Of course not. She’s my kids’ nanny. And she’s gonna be a nun.” “Might be a nun,” Wilder corrected. He took another drink. “Say you didhave a thing for her… would that be so bad? She sounds like the total package. It’s obvious you like her. Yeah, it’s inconvenient that she’s the nanny, but it’s not like it would be the first time in history. I mean, it’s practically a celebrity rite of passage.” “Yeah, it would be that bad,” I told him, finally starting to crumble under the strain of interrogation. Rubbing my forehead, I stared down at the scarred wood tabletop. “No matter how amazing she is, how sweet and funny and smart and yeah, ‘smokin’,’ I can’t go there. I don’t want to be thatguy. If I ever made a move… tried to take it to another level, and it didn’t work out… my kids could lose their nanny.” “So get another one. Date Angelina and hire someone else.” I shook my head adamantly. “No. There’s no one like her. She’s the best person to care for my girls, and they deserve the best. I’d be the world’s worst father if they lost her because of my selfishness. I’m just gonna… you know, get over it, put her out of my mind… move on.” My tone of voice wasn’t convincing even to myself, but what else was there to do?
#2
Angelina The girls reached the inflatable bouncer and scrambled inside. One of them squealed, “Let’s hide from Daddy in here. He’s too big to fit.” With Sullivan only steps away now, I also had the impulse to hide. Stepping to the opposite side of the bounce house, I watched the children inside through its mesh window. I could also make out Sullivan’s large form as he stood and looked in from the other side. He shifted back and forth with impatience, appearing barely contained and a little bit dangerous. Though I knew he was wealthy, he looked slightly rough around the edges, like maybe he’d started life somewhere very different from an opulent Eastport Bay mansion. And while he was dressed nicely, I had the impression he’d be more comfortable in a pair of worn jeans or maybe gym shorts and a t-shirt Inside the bounce house, Sullivan’s daughters ignored his watchful presence, springing around like popcorn kernels, their wild hair flying with each jump. He called out to them. “We’ll go home, change real quick, and come back. But only if you get out of there right now and come with me.” In spite of his deep voice and intimidating size, I was surprised to hear no sternness in the man’s tone. Rather, he sounded like he was begging these infinitely smaller humans to cooperate. Suddenly I understood what was going on. He was the one who was intimidated. And his daughters knew it. Like any children, who would gladly accept any and all power you would give them, the adorable little girls were playing him. Sullivan Reece might look like a bruiser, but inside he was a marshmallow, at least when it came to these two girls. The spark of sympathy grew into something larger, something warmer. The man needed help. And if I’d learned anything during my time as a preschool teaching assistant, it was how to get unruly children to cooperate. “I. Want. To. Keep. On. Bounce. Ing,” one of the Reece girls said in an obstinate tone as she jumped even harder and higher. “I mean it now,” her father said, sounding increasingly frustrated. “If you two don’t listen to me, I’ll…” His threat trailed off into nothingness, and he looked heavenward as if seeking wisdom from a higher power. That was when I started moving, walking around to the side of the bouncer where he stood. When I reached his side, he still stood with his head dropped back on his shoulders, his hands low on his hips as he breathed in and out with audible gusts, perhaps struggling to remain calm. His sleeves were rolled up to expose his forearms and one of those tattoos I’d noticed from afar. I also noticed he wore no jewelry. No wedding ring. My heart gave an extra thump. He was even larger up close than I’d anticipated. Being next to him was something like standing near a high stone wall, though this particular stone wall smelled amazing. Some sort of cologne or manly soap, I guessed. And the texture of his hair was anything but rough. The shiny, dark locks looked so soft and touchable I felt a literal ache in my fingertips from resisting the impulse to reach out. What was wrong with me? I’d never felt an inappropriate urge to touch a stranger before. And this man was clearly in distress. The last thing he needed was a ridiculous girl ogling his various physical attributes. Swallowing down the large lump that had mysteriously formed in my throat, I managed to find my voice. “Kids that age can be a handful, huh?” Sullivan dropped his arms to his side and swiveled abruptly in my direction, looking down to locate me. His mouth opened slightly, though he didn’t immediately respond, and his eyelids flared wide, revealing the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
Award-winning romance author Tru Taylor writes romantic comedies to make you swoon, smile, and snort with laughter.
She runs on Coke Zero and dark chocolate, lives for lunches with her girlfriends, and drives to the town beach several times a week to watch the sun set over the water.
She loves LOVE and will attempt to turn any show or movie she’s watching into a romance whether it is one or not. Star Wars? A romance. Lord of the Rings? Clearly a romance. The Expendables? Okay, well not even Tru can redeem that one.
When she’s not writing, Tru enjoys watching movies and reading books with happy endings, spending time with her husband and two kids, and sneaking Hershey’s Kisses from the top shelf of the freezer throughout the day. (Top shelf because… two kids. Enough said.)
Tru is the author of the Eastport Bay small town rom com series and loves living in a small New England town where she’s surrounded every day by the beautiful coastal setting you see brought to life in her books.
Upon returning to his hometown, Dean Hughes makes a deal with his best friend Stella Archer. However the more time they spend together the more the lines between friendship and romance blur, will they risk their friendship to take a chance on love?
Fall for this hard-working hottie in Speeding Hearts by Claire Wilder, a Friends to Lovers Romance, the next book in the Blue Collar Romance Series.
Stella Archer has never been afraid of a challenge.
She was the first woman mechanic in her hometown. She runs her own garage.
And when her best friend and fellow mechanic Dean announces he’s moving back to his hometown, instead of being devastated, she jumps at the chance to work part-time at his uncle’s dirt track—and finally fulfill her dream of racing cars.
But with plenty of time to train with her best friend, for the first time in my life, Stella’s scared. Scared that racing isn’t really what she wants.
Scared that Dean is.
DEAN
Dean Hughes knows he can handle moving back to his hometown to care for his sick—and surly—father. He can even deal with returning to the scene of all his past mistakes.
The only thing he can’t take is the idea of losing his best friend Stella.
Now that she’s here in Oak Bend, she’s going to see what a screw-up he really is.
Worse, he might see the truth he’s been hiding from himself: he wants more from Stella than just friendship.
And when Stella finds out?
There’ll be no putting the brakes on what comes next.
As it turned out, work kept me busy enough all day that I didn’t have time to think much about Dean at all.
Or at least, not much. I still felt the littlest fluttering in my stomach when I thought about tonight—he was going to come by the motel at seven-thirty and take me on a little tour of his hometown.
It almost felt like a date.
Except that it was my buddy, Dean.
But those thoughts only happened a few times that day. Most of the time, I concentrated on working my ass off.
By the time the closing time rolled around, I was shocked at where the day had gone. John gave me a begrudging nod as he left. He’d nitpicked my work all day, but before clocking out, he actually said, “You’re better than the last kid by a mile,” which I took to be the highest compliment.
Freddie showed me how to lock up, which I’d be doing on my own a couple days a week, and then, mercifully, I was on my own. Throughout the day, a couple of drivers had come by to practice on the oval, and each time, I’d looked up longingly at the sound of them but turned quickly back to whatever engine I was working on. It was imperative I showed Colin what I could do.
Now, with the track silent, I stood next to one of the nicer cars parked outside in the lot. I looked around. The place was completely deserted, and I happened to have the keys Freddie had handed me.
The keyring in my hand, I knew, contained the key for this particular car. I’d seen Freddie drive it around front earlier.
Colin had said I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere near the oval.
But he didn’t say anything about not test driving any of the cars.
I knew I was interpreting his words more liberally than his intention, but I was a grown adult, damn it. And what harm would there be in taking it in a circle around the lot?
Just slipping behind the wheel made adrenaline shoot through my stomach. When I turned it on, I was nearly sick. For a moment, the adrenaline running through me went cold and slick. What the hell was I doing? I’d never actually gotten this close to my dream of racing cars before. I’d driven nice cars in my career, sure. I’d topped the speed limit on the highway a hundred times over. But actually sitting in a street stock car with my hands wrapped around the wheel, my foot on the gas, the stick in neutral… I wondered for the first time if this dream of mine was really mine or something I’d cooked up to show everyone how tough I was.
No. This was mine. It had to be. Checking to make sure the car was in neutral, I revved the engine.
It roared under me, making me laugh with the thrill of it. I did it again.
Man, this felt better than sex.
Not quite, but in the moment, it felt close.
Then I chickened out. I cut the engine and got out, slamming the car door behind me. Then I raised my fists in mock triumph, imagining the crowd screaming around me. I even made the sound I used to make as a kid playing with my brothers. Then someone clapped behind me.
I couldn’t help it, I yelped.
Whirling around, my ponytail hit me in the eye just like it had the last time I was caught out here.
“Shit!” I swore, both at the sting in my eye and the mortification at getting caught by the boss playing make-believe.
But when I blinked, I saw it wasn’t Colin. The figure before me was tall. Broad across the shoulders. Covered in tattoos.
Looking at me with a grin that made my insides melt into taffy.
Dean.
About Claire Wilder
I write steamy lakeside romance novels (and the occasional sweet & sexy short story). When I’m not writing I’m either reading, taking long walks by the ocean (which I consider a giant lake!), or frolicking in the trees with my husband and three kids.
Escape to Oak Bend where blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder.
From broody carpenters to sexy electricians, these eight standalones are packed with small town feels, heat, and heartwarming happily ever afters.
Enjoy your favorite tropes written by an amazing group of authors: Jaymee Jacobs, Alexa Rivers, Evelyn Sola, Kate Carley, Tracy Broemmer, Mila Nicks, Claire Wilder, and Moni Boyce.
Fall head over heels for swoon-worthy book boyfriends who aren’t afraid of a little hard work for that happily ever after.
This promotional event is brought to you by Indie Pen PR
Six years ago, Dylan Turner walked out of Penelope Spark’s life and she never thought she’d see him again, but now he’s back. Could a secret from the past destroy their second chance at love? Fall for this hard-working hottie in When You Mine by Mila Nicks, a Reunited Lovers Romance, the next book in the Blue Collar Romance Series.
From Mila Nicks comes a second chance romance packed with charm, heart, and a swoon worthy happily ever after.
When bad boy Dylan Turner walked out of Penelope Spark’s life six years ago, she was convinced she’d never see him again. Now a single mom to her daughter, Tabitha, and the owner of a small candle shop, Penelope looks forward to a stable life without heartbreak.
That was before Dylan Turner showed up in Oak Bend like a relic from the past. Even worse? He’s rented the apartment next-door. A few years older and more mature but still with a bad boy edge, Dylan is a firefighter just trying to figure out what he wants in life. Could that be a second chance with Penelope?
But there is one minor problem. Penelope has a secret that’s six years in the making. One that might destroy their relationship for good. If they’re meant to be together, they’ll need to come to terms with the past and learn to trust each other again. Is it possible their first love is their forever love?
Welcome to Oak Bend where blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder, especially when it comes to landing their happily ever after.
“Just like old times,” he said, plopping a baseball hat over my head. He led the way onto the field with the diamond marking, dugout, and bleachers in the distance. None of it had changed; it was exactly like it was when we were in high school.
I didn’t object as he put on a catcher’s mitt and offered me a baseball bat. He tossed the baseball up into the air and caught it without his eyes on it. I gave a disbelieving laugh and shook my head side to side. He was so utterly hopeless.
“Still the cockiest player on the field,” I muttered.
“Isn’t that why you liked me so much?”
My eyes narrowed. “You realize you just proved my point, right? Didn’t they use to call you Heavy Hitter for a reason?”
He laughed, moving closer. So close he could’ve kissed me if he wanted. “Remember your nickname? Think it started with Ball and ended with Buster?”
“Someone has to keep your huge ego in check.”
“You were always good at the job,” he said with another husky laugh. He backed away and motioned for me to get in position. “Go on. You’re up to bat, Spark. Time to hit a home run.”
“We both know I’m the worst baseball player known to man.”
“But you look so dang cute in the hat and wiggling your booty like you do when you go to swing.” He was being bold flirting like that, but then again, I liked it. “Only wish you could be in my jersey again. I liked when you used to wear it.”
I stood still for a second, the bat limp in my grasp as nostalgia hit me. “Me too.”
We let the confession hang in the air for another second before moving on. He cleared his throat and winded up. I shook out my shoulders and bent my knees, booty out just the way that distracted him. Our eyes met in an intense stare off, his stormy grays connecting with my deep browns.
“Ready?”
“Been ready.”
He held in a laugh as he pitched the ball in my direction. I swung and missed—and swore under my breath. For as crap a player as I was, I was also competitive as hell. I hated to lose. Something Dylan knew and loved about me. My grip tightened on the bat and I demanded he pitch again.
The second time I swung harder and sent the ball hurtling into foul territory. No beats were missed as I told him to pitch a third time. He followed instruction and threw the ball at me. A tenacious growl left me when I swung, prompting a laugh out of him, making my heart beat in pride.
The ball soared across the field. I kicked off my wedge sandals and split into a fast sprint, moving faster than even I expected. I’d always been a runner, on the girls’ track team during our high school days, faster than a gazelle they used to say.
Dylan was fast after me. As I dashed barefoot across the wet grass of the baseball field, he tracked me down like a lion on the hunt. We were both laughing, the melodic carefree sound ringing in the otherwise quiet night air.
Inches before he could tag me, I jumped onto home plate with triumphant arms in the air. He caught up a split second after, plucking me off my feet. I squealed as he swept me up into his arms and he spun us around in dizzying circles. My arms slid around his neck into what felt like the most natural position in the world, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back in laughter.
About Mila Nicks
Mila Nicks is a romance author on a mission to pen entertaining love stories featuring women of color.
From the time she was a small girl with crayons and an overactive imagination, she’s had a passion for storytelling. In addition to serving ten years in the United States Air Force, she has received her Bachelor’s degree in Journalism and an MFA in Creative Writing.
When she isn’t busy tapping away at her keyboard, you can find her binge-watching her favorite TV shows, daydreaming about her next vacation across the globe, or spending quality time with her spunky pet Chihuahua, Zayden.
Escape to Oak Bend where blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder.
From broody carpenters to sexy electricians, these eight standalones are packed with small town feels, heat, and heartwarming happily ever afters.
Enjoy your favorite tropes written by an amazing group of authors: Jaymee Jacobs, Alexa Rivers, Evelyn Sola, Kate Carley, Tracy Broemmer, Mila Nicks, Claire Wilder, and Moni Boyce.
Fall head over heels for swoon-worthy book boyfriends who aren’t afraid of a little hard work for that happily ever after.
This promotional event is brought to you by Indie Pen PR
Title: Well Played Authors: Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
Genre:Standalone Contemporary Romance Release Date: October 25, 2021
Excited about Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s upcoming release, Well Played?
About the book
It all started with a bet. When my young son inherited half of his great grandfather’s historic inn, I decided to move us both to the place where I grew up. Notice I said half of the Inn. The other half now belonged to Levi Miller, the famous quarterback who had other ideas about what we should do with the property. We won’t mention that I accidentally injured him during our first meeting, causing him to get eight stitches. You could say we got off on the wrong foot. We bickered a lot as we both moved into the property while we figured things out. He wanted to unload the rundown place which, admittedly, needed a lot of work. I wanted to restore The Palm Inn to its original beauty and re-open it as a bed and breakfast. We couldn’t agree on anything. So Levi made me a proposal. One he thought I would surely lose. If I could sell out the place by the time he had to leave for training at the end of summer, he would back off and let me run it. But in the weeks that followed, we got more than we bargained for while we were living under the same roof. Levi and I got closer, and before I knew it, my nightly fantasies about the brawny Adonis became a reality. Not to mention, he was so great with my son. We were in over our heads in more ways than one. Because not only was he the last man on Earth I should be falling for because of our deal, but Levi was also my ex’s older brother. And now the inn was the least of my problems.
Check out this SNEAK PEEK!
Presley
Harper picked up the notebook that contained my to-do list from the table and opened to a fresh page. Clicking the pen open, she scribbled across the top. To do with Levi I chuckled. “Are we making a dirty to-do list?” She wiggled her eyebrows and put the pen to the paper. “We certainly are.” “Tell me one thing you fantasize about doing with him.” Yep, I was definitely drunk, because sober me wouldn’t have participated in this. Though, even in this state, I felt my cheeks blush. “Well, every day he goes out back and does pull-ups in that big oak tree. Sometimes I imagine he’s naked while doing them, and then I walk out naked, too. I wrap myself around him like a koala and he’s a tree, and he keeps doing the pull-ups. Hoisting us both up and down.” Harper smirked. “Nice start.” She then jotted down koala pull-ups. “What else you got?” “Well, I also have this running fantasy that I’m watching him do the pull-ups from my bedroom window with binoculars, and then I lie down on the bed and…you know…go to town on myself. And when I’m just about to orgasm, I look up at the window and see Levi with the binoculars. He’s watching me masturbate from outside.” “Oooh… I like that one.” Harper wrote down voyeur masturbation. For the next half hour, we polished off our spiked lemonades, laughed a lot, and added more than a dozen sexual to-do tasks to my list. It was the most fun I’d had in ages. But Harper had to fly home in the morning, and I didn’t want her to have a raging hangover. So rather than make another pitcher of spiked lemonade, I grabbed her a water bottle and some Motrin and told her to drink up before going to bed. But as I walked around and shut off the lights, another fantasy hit me. “That peach cobbler we had for dessert at the restaurant was orgasmic, wasn’t it?” “It sure was.” I pointed to the notepad. “Sit on Levi’s face while eating that pie.” Harper had been drinking water and spit it out all over the place. “Oh my God. That is most definitely going on the list!” She picked up the pen and spoke while jotting something down. “Double orgasmic peach cobbler.” We started to crack up, but a knock interrupted our laughter. At least it interrupted mine. I looked up to find Levi standing in the doorway to the living room. My eyes widened. “Levi… What are you doing here?” His brows lifted. “I own half the place.” “No, I meant I didn’t know you were back.” He looked between Harper and me and seemed to smirk. “Oh, I’m back.” My palms started to sweat. “I didn’t hear you come in. How long have you been…standing there?” Levi tilted his head, and his smirk elevated to a cocky smile. “Not too long.” Oh my God. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. What if he heard? I suddenly felt pretty damn sober. “Umm…well, this is my friend Harper. She’s leaving early tomorrow, so we were just going to bed.” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Harper.” Harper stood and hiccupped. She covered her grinning mouth. “Nice to meet you, too. Your family’s inn is beautiful.” “Thank you.” Her eyes shifted to me. “Although there’s a lot to do around here. Presley and I made a list. You might want to take a look at it and get going on some of the new to-do tasks we added.” My eyes nearly bulged out of my head, and I lunged for the notebook on the table. Levi squinted at me. “Everything okay, Presley? You seem stressed.” “I’m fine!” He nodded slowly. “Right.” “Alright….” I grabbed Harper’s arm and tugged. “We’re going to bed. Welcome home.” Levi never moved from the living room doorway as he watched me drag my friend out of the room. Harper waved over her shoulder. “’Night, Levi. Enjoy your to-do list!” Somehow I managed to get Harper to her room without her yelling anything too obscene. But for the next half hour, I lay in my bed with my heart pounding. What if he’d heard us? What if he’d been standing there listening the entire time? Oh my God. I covered my face with my hands. The things I said I wanted to do to him. My head began to ache, and tomorrow’s hangover hadn’t even started yet. After another twenty minutes of lying there freaking out in the dark, my mouth was so parched that I needed a bottle of water. But there was no way I wanted to run into Levi again. So I cracked open my bedroom door and listened for any sounds of someone moving out in the common area. Finding it quiet, I snuck down the hall and peered around the corner to see if any lights were still on. They weren’t, so I breathed a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen for a drink. I guzzled half a bottle of water before turning to slink back to my bedroom. But I froze at the sight of Levi standing in the kitchen doorway. My hand flew up to cover my racing heart. “Oh my God. You scared me.” “Sorry. I was just going to head out to grab a bite to eat.” “Oh…there are leftovers from lunch in the fridge, if you want. I made chicken pot pies this morning.” Levi held my eyes for a moment. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to go out.” He walked over and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I have a real hankering for peach cobbler.” Oh. My. God. My jaw dropped to the ground. I had no idea what to do or say. Levi winked as he walked to the door. “Get some sleep. I wouldn’t want you to be too tired to work on that to-do list.” ★★★
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-six languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria, and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
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