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.
Sometimes the thing you least expect, is exactly what you’ve been looking for.
Darius Moreno knows his place. He’s the Head Enforcer of the Moirae Pack. He protects and councils his Alpha. If it came down to it, he’d give his life to save each and every one of his packmates. They’re the only family he’s ever known, or needed. He never planned to mate, knowing it would take time away from his duties, but fate has other plans for him.
Leo DeLuca knows who he was meant to be. The Alpha of the Crescent Pack, he was born to power and raised to lead. But when a crazed wolf murdered his parents and kidnapped his sisters, his entire world turned upside down. He knew that asking the Moirae pack for help was the only way to save his family, but he never imagined it would lead him to his fated mate.
Two males from different packs. Two fierce, dominant personalities. Two alpha wolves vying for power. It should be a recipe for disaster but when fate steps in, the truth is unavoidable. Darius and Leo were made for each other, two halves of a whole. Now, if only they can stop fighting fate and each other, they may finally realize they’re stronger together than they could ever be apart.
Unavoidable Truth was a good read. Personally, the first book in the series is still my favourite, but I thoroughly enjoyed Leo & Darius’s book.
I have to admit, when we initially met him, I wasn’t a fan of D… his attitude rubbed me the wrong way.. but Jess changed my mind in him and by around the two third mark I was definitely taken with him. Under that surly, sometimes mean exterior was a great heart.
I really liked Leo. As an Alpha he needed someone strong but he also someone he could just be himself with, and that’s what he got from Darius.
Seeing these two develop their relationship was good after having caught glimpses of what was going on in the previous instalment in the series when they guys were kinda on the sidelines. Watching previous events from both Leo and Darius’s POVs gave another layer to things that happened with Rafe & Zoey as well as Michael & Luna.
I’m looking forward to the sisters books, though I think Maya is likely gonna give her potential mate a run for his money!!!!
This series was my first read by Jess Bryant but I’m definitely gonna be catching up on her other works.
4 stars
Author Bio:
Jess Bryant is an avid indoorswoman. A city girl trapped in a country girl’s life, her heart resides in Dallas but her soul and roots are in small town Oklahoma. She enjoys manicures, the color pink, and her completely impractical for country life stilettos. She believes that hair color is a legitimate form of therapy, as is reading and writing romance. She started writing as a little girl but her life changed forever when she stole a book from her aunt’s Harlequin collection and she’s been creating love stories with happily ever afters ever since.
Jess holds a degree in Public Relations from the University of Oklahoma and is a lifetime supporter of her school and athletic teams. And why not? They have a ton of National Championships! She may be a girlie girl but she knows her sports stats and isn’t afraid to tell you that your school isn’t as cool as hers… or that your sports romance got it all wrong.
For more information on Jess and upcoming releases, contact her at JessBryantBooks@gmail.com or follow her on her many social media accounts for news and shenanigans.
Right Number Wrong Girl, an all-new, sexy, opposites attract, romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart is out now!
Excerpt
He turned to me. “I don’t see a car outside. Did you drive here?”
I paused. “No. I cycled.”
“You cycled?”
Evelyn snorted, getting up. “People do use things other than cars to get around, you know. Back in my day, cars were for the rich.”
Hugo slid her a look. “You were the rich. You are the rich.”
“Good point. Never mind, then.” She winked at me, adding a cheeky grin to it, and walked towards the door. “I trust you’ll be taking Camilla back to her cottage.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” I said, right as Hugo said, “I won’t be passing there.”
Evelyn stopped dead in front of him and craned her neck to look up at him. “It wasn’t a request, Hugo.”
He rolled his shoulders. “Understood.”
“That’s what I thought.” She tapped his leg with her stick, and he stepped aside to let her pass.
It was abundantly clear who ran the roost around here.
Hugo sighed the second she’d disappeared. “Are you ready?”
“You don’t have to take me,” I said, picking up the rucksack and slinging it over my shoulders. “It’s really not far by bike.”
“I don’t want to take you, but the idea of Grandma finding out I didn’t is something I like a whole lot less, so let’s go.”
“I have Nora’s bike with me. I can’t just leave it here.”
“I’ll throw it in the back. Come on.” He motioned for me to follow him again, and I begrudgingly did so.
I could not think of anything I wanted less than to spend time in an enclosed space with Hugo. Or any space, really. We’d not exactly hit it off at the pub, and that was clearly a theme we were going for given that we’d sniped at one another every time we’d spoken.
So sitting in a car?
No, thank you.
“I’ll ride the bike back,” I said when he opened the front door.
“Just let me take you. I’m trying to be nice,” he huffed.
“You’re only being nice because she told you to be. You’re not doing it out of the goodness of your heart. There’s a difference.” I stepped outside.
He followed me, pulling the door closed behind him. “Either way, think of it as an olive branch.”
“I’m not a fan of olives.”
“Of course you’re not.”
I gave him a withering look, then sighed. “How are you going to get the bike back? Do you have a bike rack on your car?”
“I have a pick-up truck.”
I blinked at him. “What is this? Little Texas?”
Hugo scratched his cheek. “Look at where I live.”
Pointedly, I turned around and stared at the huge manor house. “Downton Abbey?”
He licked his lips and looked up.
I swear.
If he did that counting thing he did with his Grandma…
“Don’t start counting,” I warned him.
His gaze snapped down. “You caught that?”
“You have the discretion of a pick-up truck parked outside Downton Abbey.”
“Maybe I should count to ten instead of three with you,” he muttered, walking over to where I’d left Nora’s bike. “It might make me be able to be nice to you for real.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You’re acting like one.”
“So are you.”
“Fair point,” he agreed, wheeling the bike over. “Come on. I’ll toss this in the back and take you there.”
All right. Fine. I clearly wasn’t winning this argument, and even if he was only doing it because Evelyn had made him, I’d accept the olive branch.
At the end of the day, he knew I wasn’t Camilla.
I was loathe to admit it, but I needed his help.
It meant I’d have to try to get along with him.
“Thank you,” I said, watching as he carefully put the bike in the bed of a muddy black pick-up truck. “So why do you have this miniature lorry?”
He chuckled. “Exmoor.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate.”
He opened the passenger side car door for me. “I’ll explain on the way.”
“Thank you.” I put both my bags in the footwell looked at the truck.
I was five-foot-three.
These wheels were almost bigger than I was.
How on Earth was I supposed to get in there? I supposed I was going to have to haul myself up and hope for the best.
I braced my hands on the seat and the door, took a deep breath, and yanked myself up. My hand gave way on the soft fabric of the seat, and my foot slipped on the metal step. My life flashed behind my eyes, and I was about to scream when Hugo grabbed me from behind.
He wrapped one arm around my waist and held me against his body. My heart pounded uncontrollably, and I didn’t know if it was from the fear of my near fall or because I was nestled tightly against him.
He had a very firm body.
It wasn’t the worst thing I’d ever been pressed up again, for what it’s worth.
“Need a leg up?” His lips were far too close to my ear, and his words were said on an exhale that skittered warmly against my cheek.
Yep.
Yeah.
Yes.
The heart pounding was definitely from his closeness.
This was an unwelcome development.
Taking a work call for my best friend in my undies? Check.
Filling in for her after an emergency and getting mistaken for her? Check.
Royally messing it all up until the hot duke-in-waiting I hate but can’t keep my hands off steps in to save me? Uh, check…
Yes, yes, that all sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Until you consider I now have to plan and execute an 80th birthday party for the Dowager Duchess of Devon, and I can’t organize my hairbrushes. The current duchess is the ultimate type A personality, determined to micromanage the entire thing.
I’m a type… XYZ . . . LMNOP . . . Maybe not even that.
When all my attempts go to hell in half a handbasket—I can’t even mess up properly—the only hope I have to pull this thing off is duke-in-waiting Hugo Edwards.
The dreamy, handsome, makes-my-heart-pitter-patter, arrogant tosspot Hugo Edwards.
He and his brother are the only people who know who I really am. The success of their grandmother’s party relies on us getting along long enough to make it happen—and me and Hugo keeping our hands off one another behind closed doors.
None of which is easy to achieve.
When my best friend shows up to take over from me, the fact that I’ve fallen for Hugo is the least of my worries…
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over forty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs. She lives in North Wales with her family, three cats, one very large dog, and an undetermined number of chickens and ducks.
She’s known for her hilarious, sarcastic romantic comedies with wildly inappropriate grandparents, and has been dubbed “The RomCom Queen” by her readers.
Melissa Foster is celebrating the release of her new contemporary romance, Maybe We Won’t! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!
Title: Maybe We Won’t
Author: Melissa Foster
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About Maybe We Won’t:
A sexy and soul-stirring novel about love, family, and rediscovering what matters most by Melissa Foster, the New York Times bestselling author of Maybe We Will.
When workaholic Boston attorney Deirdra de Messiéres is passed over for a well-deserved promotion, she takes a two-month hiatus to show her boss just how much he needs her and heads home to Silver Island. But beyond seeing her sisters happy, home is not where Deirdra’s heart is. She has no interest in their family restaurant, the Bistro, or reliving hurtful childhood memories, and absolutely no interest in spending a single second with Josiah “Jagger” Jones, the Bistro’s too-laid-back musician and chef. Sure, the hippie is hot, but he drives her nuts. The guy lives in a van with his dog, and he can’t even commit to a solid work schedule. To make matters worse, he’s always around. She needs to get off the island, stat.
Jagger has overcome his own personal trials to place stock in life’s pleasures: family, friends, peace…and if he has his way, one positively beautiful, absolutely uptight attorney. Jagger knows he’s the perfect person to help Deirdra deal with her hurtful past and find her way back to being happy.
A chance encounter leads to deep conversation, and night after liberating night, Deirdra lets down her guard. But neither has plans to stay on Silver Island. Free-spirited Jagger has wanderlust, and Deirdra has a career to return to. They’re on different paths, and plans for a future together don’t stand a chance. But when has anything gone according to plan?
The Silver Harbor series is published by Montlake Romance and will be available in paperback and audio formats at all book retailers, and exclusively in digital format for Kindle and Kindle apps. Download a free Kindle reading app here: http://bit.ly/FreeKindle_App1
Deirdra de Messiéres lay in her childhood bedroom on Silver Island thinking about her upended life. She’d worked her ass off for the last several years as a corporate attorney for a tech firm in Boston, and after her promotion to assistant general counsel last year, she’d thought she was on the fast track to becoming general counsel when the slot opened up—until the GC had a heart attack and her slave-driver boss, Malcolm, had hired a referral from outside the company through his good-old-boy network.
The bastard.
He’d sprung that little nugget on her three days ago, after which Deirdra had announced her two-month hiatus, effective immediately. Everyone had been shocked, including Deirdra. She’d never taken time off and had made herself available in the evenings and on weekends since she’d first started with the company. She’d had to. It was a dog-eat-dog industry, and with six other attorneys on board—four of whom were men—she’d wanted to stand out. Yes, she was well aware that she was putting the company she’d given her all to in a pickle, especially since the new general counsel couldn’t start for another two months. But that was the point. Let them suffer without her impeccable mind handling everything under the sun. She was confident in her game plan and certain Malcolm would quickly see the error of his ways.
The truth was, she’d thought he wouldn’t let her walk out the door after her announcement. But her stern sixty-year-old boss had simply wished her a relaxing time and said she needed it. She’d already received dozens of calls and emails from colleagues who were shocked that she’d taken so much time off, but she struggled with disappointment over the ones that hadn’t come from her boss.
She still couldn’t believe Malcolm had said she freaking needed the break. As if she’d ever produced subpar work? That was a laugh. He’d had nothing but accolades for her jobs well done, and last year’s promotion had been proof of that.
Her frustration simmered to the boiling point. Ugh. She needed to stop overthinking the situation. Fat chance of that happening for a self-professed control freak. Deirdra not overthinking would be as weird as her younger sister, Abby, not seeing the bright side of things or their older half sister, Cait, trusting everyone at face value. Deirdra had a better chance of trying to transform into a bird and fly away.
If only . . .
She and her sisters were quite the trio, and they’d had a whirlwind few months. She and Abby had only discovered Cait existed in the spring, when they’d come back to the island to go over their mother’s will with one of their mother’s best friends, Shelley Steele. While Abby had embraced and trusted Cait unconditionally from the moment she’d met her, Deirdra had been cautious, given that their family house, restaurant, and meager inheritances were on the line. It had taken Cait some time to open up and trust them as well. But they’d gotten through those trials and tribulations and had become close. Cait was a wonderful addition to their family, and like Abby, she’d found solace and love on Silver Island.
Deirdra would not be following suit.
Beyond seeing her sisters happy, Deirdra had no interest in their family restaurant, the Bistro, or in the island on which she’d spent too many years trying to hold together the pieces of her alcoholic mother’s disheveled life, helping to run the Bistro and keep a roof over their heads. Deirdra had fled immediately after high school to attend Boyer University in Upstate New York with her bestie, Sutton Steele, and had finally started living her own life. But self-preservation had consequences, and Abby had been stuck caring for their mother in Deirdra’s absence. That sucked, but what choice had Deirdra had at the time? Stay on the rinky-dink island running a restaurant she resented and putting her drunk mother to bed while her dreams went to pot? Besides, Abby had encouraged her to go, and Deirdra had clung to that support like a lifeboat in her sea of guilt as she’d set out to prove herself to Abby and maybe even to stick it to her mother and show that she couldn’t hold her back.
Deirdra stared at the ceiling, discomfort simmering inside her. She’d thought her resentment toward the island and all that it represented might ease now that her mother was gone, but painful reminders lingered like ghosts in the wind, and the house and her bedroom were filled with them. Abby and Aiden had done a great job of sprucing it up. It was absolutely gorgeous. To anyone else it would seem warm and inviting, but there wasn’t enough paint on the planet to obliterate Deirdra’s painful memories. How many nights had she snuck out the window just to sit on the hill and look out at the water to keep from drowning in her mother’s wake?
Maybe she shouldn’t have come back, but she couldn’t do that to Cait. The start of her impromptu hiatus had lined up with the day Cait and all their friends were fixing up her new tattoo shop. Deirdra wasn’t big on manual labor, but she loved her sisters, and she’d needed to get out of Boston. She was glad she’d come, even if being on the island was uncomfortable. She’d gotten to witness Cait’s boyfriend, Deirdra’s childhood friend Brant Remington, get down on one knee in front of all their friends and propose. Deirdra couldn’t be happier for them, but come hell or high water, she was getting off this island tomorrow and going on a well-deserved vacation, the destination of which was yet to be determined.
The sound of the front door jarred her from her thoughts, and Abby’s giggles floated upstairs. She and her fiancé, Aiden Aldridge, couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Deirdra glanced at her phone. It was almost one o’clock in the morning. In the spring, Abby had moved back home from New York, where she’d worked sixty-plus hours a week as a chef. She’d met and fallen head over heels for Aiden in a whirlwind love affair. Together they’d revived the Bistro, and they were getting married in November.
Deirdra tried to focus on the distant sounds of Silver Harbor sneaking in through the open window instead of the cacophony of laughter, low conversations, and prolonged silences, followed by loud lustful sounds coming from downstairs. If only she were back in Boston. She preferred her noisy neighbor’s stereo blasting classic rock and oldies at all hours over this. At least that she could dance to.
Needless to say, she was a little jealous of her sisters’ love lives. Not that she’d had time for a man, or anything else besides work, these last few years. More noises floated upstairs. She closed her eyes, willing them not to have sex in the living room or, worse, in the kitchen. She had to eat at that table. Oh God, that’s probably what Aiden is doing. She squeezed her eyes shut. Deletedeletedelete!
What was she thinking, staying in her old bedroom? She should have stayed in the apartment over the garage. Why hadn’t she thought of that from the get-go?
A loud thud rattled the walls, followed by more laughter.
Deirdra flew out of bed. She was not going to listen to a play-by-play of Abby and Aiden having sex. She put on her silk kimono and headed downstairs, praying she wouldn’t catch them in a compromising position. She stopped on the bottom step, eyeing the trail of clothing that led past the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. Thank God. Hurrying into the kitchen, she snagged the key to the apartment off the hook by the side door and quietly slipped outside. She crossed her arms against the brisk September air as she climbed the steps to the apartment above the garage.
A streak of moonlight lit a path down the hallway to the bedroom. She took off her kimono and slipped under the warm covers, closing her eyes as she sank into the mattress. Something moved beside her, and her eyes flew open just as that something licked her face. She screamed and jumped out of the bed, flailing for the light switch. A bark rang out, and a cold nose hit her crotch. She swatted at it as she flicked on the lights, illuminating an amused Josiah “Jagger” Jones pushing languidly from the bed as his dalmatian, Dolly, nosed Deirdra’s privates. The twentysomething hippie worked at the Bistro as a part-time musician and part-time chef.
“What are you doing here?” She twisted away from Dolly, her eyes catching on Jagger’s naked body. Holy mother of hotness. Broad shoulders and a few wordy tattoos on his ribs vied for her attention, but her eyes locked on the dusting of dark chest hair trailing down lickable abs, and her thoughts skidded to a halt at the impressive cock dangling between his legs. She couldn’t look away. Her loneliest parts clenched with desire, while her boggled mind tried to make sense of the perfect manscaping, which didn’t fit the image she held of the hemp-clothing- and sandal-wearing, too-damn-laid-back guy for whom she had no patience. Not that she’d ever imagined him naked. Well, not too often anyway. He may not be her type—give her a man in a suit any day—but she couldn’t deny that Jagger was hot, and he had a great voice, the kind that fantasies were made of. His hair wasn’t bad, either: dark, thick, and wavy. The kind of hair she’d love to hold on to while his face was between her legs.
Dolly licked her, snapping her back to the moment.
Holy crap. She was losing it. She was thirty years old, and he couldn’t be more than twenty-four or -five. She needed to get off the island and scratch that particular itch with a man who was more her speed . . . age . . . Holy cow, his body . . .
Dolly licked her again, jerking her mind back into submission.
“Dolly!” She turned away, glowering at Jagger, who was watching her with a big-ass grin.
“Like what you see?” he said far too casually. He lazily raked a hand through his hair, his leather and beaded bracelets slipping down his wrist.
About the Author:
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance and women’s fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Readers adore Melissa’s fun, flirty, and sinfully sexy, award-winning big family romance collection, LOVE IN BLOOM featuring the Snow Sisters, Bradens, Remingtons, Ryders, Seaside Summer, Harborside Nights, and the Wild Boys After Dark. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented.
Melissa also writes sweet and clean romance under the pen name Addison Cole.
Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on social media or her personal website.
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One dance with this ‘prince’ could cost her a job.
Her freedom.
Her life.
Warlord Tane of Atlan is a warrior, not a prince.
So why is he wearing these ridiculous white pants and gold-trimmed jacket?
And gods help him, why are there hundreds of females in glittering gowns, circling like vultures, expecting him to dance?
The human producers of the Bachelor Beast television show thought this would be a good idea; dress up an unmated Warlord like a fairytale prince, invite hundreds of eligible human women to a ‘Cinderella Ball’, turn on their cameras,and record everything.
And then he sees her. His mate. The only female who can tame his beast.
But…
This princess wasn’t supposed to be at the ball. A borrowed ballgown. A stolen invitation. A friend in trouble. Everything is going according to plan…until she can no longer resist temptation.
Surely one dance won’t hurt?
Even a dance with a beast.
Don’t miss this wild and twisted Cinderella story.
Grace Goodwin is a USA Today and international bestselling author of Sci-Fi and Paranormal romance with more than one million books sold. Grace’s titles are available worldwide in multiple languages in ebook, print and audio formats. Grace is an avid reader, an escape room enthusiast, sci-fi nerd, coffee fanatic, and an eternal optimist forever believing that Earth will, some day, have a Star Trek style future. Grace loves to hear from readers.
Right Number Wrong Girl, an all-new, mistaken identity, laugh-out-loud, royal romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Emma Hart, is now available!
Taking a work call for my best friend in my undies? Check. Filling in for her after an emergency and getting mistaken for her? Check. Royally messing it all up until the hot duke-in-waiting I hate but can’t keep my hands off steps in to save me? Uh, check…
Yes, yes, that all sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Until you consider I now have to plan and execute an 80th birthday party for the Dowager Duchess of Devon, and I can’t organize my hairbrushes. The current duchess is the ultimate type A personality, determined to micromanage the entire thing. I’m a type… XYZ . . . LMNOP . . . Maybe not even that. When all my attempts go to hell in half a handbasket—I can’t even mess up properly—the only hope I have to pull this thing off is duke-in-waiting Hugo Edwards. The dreamy, handsome, makes-my-heart-pitter-patter, arrogant tosspot Hugo Edwards. He and his brother are the only people who know who I really am. The success of their grandmother’s party relies on us getting along long enough to make it happen—and me and Hugo keeping our hands off one another behind closed doors. None of which is easy to achieve. When my best friend shows up to take over from me, the fact that I’ve fallen for Hugo is the least of my worries…
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over forty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs. She lives in North Wales with her family, three cats, one very large dog, and an undetermined number of chickens and ducks.
She’s known for her hilarious, sarcastic romantic comedies with wildly inappropriate grandparents, and has been dubbed “The RomCom Queen” by her readers.
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