Title: Alcohol You Later Author: Heather M. Orgeron
Genre: Romantic Comedy Release Date: March 4, 2022
BLURB
They say to never meet your heroes… but what’s the rule on falling in love with them?
Raven Winters has been infatuated with Nicholas Potter since the day she tacked his poster to her bedroom wall. So, when she discovered the famous drummer was her college roommate’s cousin, it seemed the stars had aligned.
Their attraction was instant, and their chemistry explosive. Unfortunately, Nick wasn’t ready to abandon his rock star lifestyle.
Over the years, she’s become his best friend—with benefits—and favorite source of telephonic relief when the groupies backstage weren’t quite what he was looking for. Those late-night drunken calls kept her holding onto hope.
Well, all that patience is about to pay off—why else would he invite her to join him on tour, if not to finally confess his feelings?
Too bad, the universe has other plans. It looks like drummer boy’s reckless lifestyle has finally caught up to him—and Raven’s the one stuck toting the diaper bag.
“I guess congratulations are in order, huh?” “Please don’t do this,” I beg, ripping my hands through my hair. “Don’t act like any of this is okay, because it’s not.” “What would you have me do instead?” she asks, stilling my hands with her own. “Rage? Scream?” She snorts. “Cry?” “If that’s what you feel you need to do.” She shakes her head, rolling her glistening eyes. “Don’t you think that’s a little extreme of a reaction for a friend to have when her bestie learns he’s just become a daddy?”
AUTHOR BIO
Heather M. Orgeron is a Cajun girl with a big heart and a passion for romance. She married her high school sweetheart two months after graduation and her life has been a fairytale ever since. She’s the queen of her castle, reigning over five sons and one bossy little princess who has made it her mission in life to steal her Momma’s throne. When she’s not writing, you will find her hidden beneath mounds of laundry and piles of dirty dishes or locked in her tower (aka the bathroom) soaking in the tub with a good book. She’s always been an avid reader and has recently discovered a love for cultivating romantic stories of her own.
If I were on fire, she’d break out the marshmallows.
It’s not that we don’t like each other, more like hate with the fury of a thousand suns. But it wasn’t always that way.
I still remember how her lips tasted. How they felt pressed against mine. How I wanted more.
How I still crave her. Our disastrous night together ended with her storming out, me wondering if I’d ever be able to show my face on campus again and us as bitter enemies.
When a campus competition is announced to find the most in love couple, she’s the last person I thought I’d turn to for help. But the prize could change both our lives. An internship for her and a chance to finally connect with my father. It’s too hard to resist. Just like her heated glares and tempting curves.
To win, we’ve got to prove to everyone we’re a couple. Head over heels, can’t keep our hands off each other in love. Fake the hell out of it for our chance at glory.
Maybe we’re a little too good at selling it to the whole campus because the lines haven’t just been blurred, they’ve gone up in flames.
Can I convince her I want us to be together for real and keep the prize? Or will I lose them both?
Book 2 in the new Fulton Rivals series – St Francis University campus world!
EXCERPT
You can help me out with the zipper. I think it’s jammed.”
With deep breaths, I walked to her and tugged on the zipper, not wanting to yank the damn thing apart. “It’s stuck.”
“Thanks for the update. Can you see what it’s stuck on?” She looked over her shoulder.
“Let me get a closer look.” I knelt behind her and steadied myself with my hands on her hips.
If I hadn’t already taken care of myself earlier this would be a big problem. Eye level with the jammed zipper, I picked at the fabric stuck between the teeth. “I’ll have to pull it down to fix it.”
“Whatever it takes.”
My throat was drought dry. I jerked the zipper down, pulling the fabric free, but the freed pull moved much easier and slid almost to the bottom of the zipper. The lace ruffle top of her underwear peeked out from the gaping fabric. Fuck, I was in trouble.
Swallowing, I kept the lace free from the teeth, but the move shifted my hand, so it skimmed along her spine all the way up. My heart sprinted like I was headed for the end zone.
Her body shuddered and her head snapped straight ahead.
“Sorry. My hands are cold.” Dread at her wondering why my hands were this cold and slightly damp, sped me through the final zip.
“Don’t worry about it.” Her voice was hoarse and stilted.
Don’t make this weird, Cole. I did the eye hook at the top of the dress and ran my hands over her shoulders. The curve of her neck was inviting. I wanted to bury my nose in her skin and inhale the scent that had enveloped me from our first pictures snuggled up on the couch.
Kennedy Finch was dangerous to my health. Bundled up in a neat, entirely too-tempting package, she was a walking wet dream and a captivating disaster.
She sat on the edge of her bed. The neckline of her dress showcased her breasts, which swelled from her position deepening the cleavage that my mouth wanted to dive face-first into.
I cleared my throat and looked anywhere but at her.
Maya Hughes, that’s me!, can often be found sneaking in another chapter while hiding in the bathroom from her kids! 🙂 I’m a romance writer who loves taking inspiration from everyday life, namely my husband and biggest fan. Inspiration also strikes when I hear a song, meet someone new or daydream while at soccer practice.
I love writing stories that capture the possibilities of the paths less travelled and enjoy experiencing life through my characters’ eyes.
I’m the mom of three little ones, the wife to an amazing husband and also work full time. Some of my favorite things are cupcakes, cinnamon rolls, white wine, laughing until I can’t breathe, traveling with my family and Jeff Goldblum.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Claudia Burgoa brings us a light-hearted small-town romantic comedy full of a swoon-worthy billionaire, single dad romance, and big laughs.
I need a massive break.
So long to my cheating boyfriend and betraying roommate.
Goodbye hectic emergency room and long hours.
When I get an opportunity to take over my grandfather’s medical practice in Luna Harbor I happily accept the chance to try on a new life that holds sweet memories.
But I can barely think about anything at all when the new coffee shop/bar next to my practice always seems to be having an impromptu concert.
Who sets up a coffee and a bar in the same location as a music venue?
Fisher Hannigan, Head Man Child (ok, keyboardist) of the band Too Far From Grace, that’s who.
He’s also the man who can’t stop flirting with me every time we meet. He’s having the time of his life, while I’m trying to run a quiet, unsuccessful medical practice.
Even though he infuriates me, our chemistry is off the charts and I can’t say I haven’t thought about giving him a full physical exam.
Claudia is an award-winning, USA Today bestselling author.
She writes alluring, thrilling stories about complicated women and the men who take their breaths away. Her books are the perfect blend of steamy and heartfelt, filled with emotional characters and explosive chemistry. Her writing takes readers to new heights, providing a variety of tears, laughs, and shocking moments that leave fans on the edge of their seats.
She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband, her youngest two children, and three fluffy dogs.
When Claudia is not writing, you can find her reading, knitting, or just hanging out with her family. At nights, she likes to binge watches shows or movies with her equally geeky husband.
My new boss is a former fighter pilot — and it should be illegal to be that hot. But this city-boy condo builder doesn’t know the first thing about construction in a place like Kasper Ridge.
Will hired me to oversee the renovation at the old Kasper Ridge Resort – a job that will make my company and guarantee that Papa can live comfortably to a very old age. I just need to keep my eyes on the prize.
And the prize is not Will Cruz’s ocean blue eyes or those rock-hard abs. Besides, all those muscles and that killer smile are temporary. I’ve lived in the mountains long enough to know that slick city boys don’t stick around for the long run.
So I tell myself the things I need to hear to stay strong, hold firm, maintain my distance.
Until Will kisses me one night and I forget pretty much everything I’d been telling myself about protecting my heart.
I know it’s only a fling, but what if there’s a chance Will Cruz is the one? What if I give him my heart, and he doesn’t stay?
I’m USA Today Bestselling author Delancey Stewart. My contemporary romances run the gamut of settings and setups, but they always deliver humor, heart and heat. It’s a guarantee.
I write from my home near Denver, CO, where I manage a household full of boys and men. Okay, only one man. The hubs. But two boys. I mean, three if you count the hubs. (You see why I do words and not numbers. I was told there’d be no math in this bio. Someone lied.) There is also a dog named Charlie Taco.
I grew up in California and have had more jobs than anyone on earth (personal trainer, pharmaceutical rep, copywriter, tech writer, marketing director, wine seller, elementary school teacher… I’m not kidding. The list. It goes on.) But the one I love the most is writing, in part because I get to meet people who love books and stories as much as I do!
“He’s grumpy, rude, and honestly, not that likeable at all. So why can’t I stop thinking about him?”
Wicked Heat, an all-new high heat and slow burn mm romance, and the first book in the Chicago Heat Series from USA Today bestselling author Ella Frank, is live now!
Ryan Kind, caring, and protective. Those are the three qualities I’m looking for when it comes to my dream man. In a city as big as Chicago, you wouldn’t think he would be that hard to find, right? Wrong. Sure, my boss found a super-sexy detective and my best friend fell madly in love with the most eligible bachelor around. But the only person I’ve met recently is a broody bad boy who saved me at a sketchy pub. He’s grumpy, rude, and honestly, not that likeable at all. Hardly my “dream” guy. So why can’t I stop thinking about him?
Jameson I don’t do friendships. I don’t do relationships either. The very last thing I’m looking for in life is to fall in love and live happily ever after. So saving some rich guy from losing his wallet is the last thing I want to do on a Friday night. Especially when he looks like someone who just stepped off the cover of GQ. Fate seems to have other ideas, though, and every time I turn around, he’s there. A wicked heat simmers between us, threatening to ignite, and though I’ve been trained to put out the flames, I can’t help but think: What’s the worst that could happen if I let this desire burn out of control?
Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust and is the co-author of the fan-favorite erotic serial, Sex Addict. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”
A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction.
Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.
The Nanny and the Beefcake by Krista Sandor is now live!
The world knows Erasmus Cress as a British boxing champion and a single dad, but what they don’t know is that he’s also an O thief. Yep, that O. The OMG, don’t stop, please, don’t stop, O.
The infuriating beefcake rendered yoga instructor Libby Lamb an off-balance O-deprived mess with one arrogant glance, which turns out to be an occupational hazard when her job is to remain calm, cool, and collected.
She never expected to become the boxer’s nanny, but she’s got bills to pay and brothers to support. Not to mention, the beefcake’s ripped physique might be the key to reclaiming her O and restoring her inner peace.
Here’s the deal. She’s out of options, and so is he.
He’s training for the fight of his life, and he needs someone to care for his son.
He says he doesn’t do relationships. But when their eyes meet, and the gloves come off, there’s no denying his yang is hot for her yin.
They clash at every turn, but Erasmus soon learns that the fight that matters the most might not be the one in the boxing ring. When it’s all on the line, the true battle will be the fight for Libby’s heart.
If there’s one thing USA Today Bestselling Author Krista Sandor knows for sure, it’s that romance saved her. After she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2015, her world turned upside down. During those difficult first days, her dear friend sent her a romance novel. That kind gesture provided the escape she needed and ignited her love of the genre. Inspired by the strong heroines and happily ever afters, Krista decided to write her own romance novels. Today, she is an MS warrior and living life to the fullest. When she’s not writing, you can find her running 5Ks with her husband or chasing after her growing boys in Denver, Colorado.
He’s a rough and rugged hockey player. She’s a posh British princess. To win an enormous inheritance, they’re forced to live together.
This is not going to go well.
When his former hockey coach passes away, Declan Cadell is shocked to learn the man left him a cattle ranch. Well, not exactly. He’s got a little hurdle to jump over first. He has to win a trivia contest against the man’s estranged daughter. Oh, and there’s a caveat: he’s only in the running if he lives and works with the spoiled princess who blew off one of the greatest men he’s ever known.
As if it wasn’t hurtful enough that Seraphina Crutchley’s biological father replaced her with a bunch of sweaty hockey boys, now he’s forcing her to vie for her inheritance with one of them. Worse, the guy clearly can’t stand her because if–no, when she wins the contest–she’ll sell the land and return home to London. Why on earth would she keep a cattle ranch in Wyoming?
But Seraphina comes to learn the contest is about so much more than a ranch. It’s about learning who her father was and why he stopped asking to see her. It’s about falling in love…and finding the courage to fight for it.
Award-winning author Erika Kelly writes sexy, passionate, and emotional contemporary romance. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she lives in the southwest, drinks a lot of tea, and is always waiting for her cats to get off her keyboard.
From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new standalone novel.
Reasons why I should not be drawn to Troy Serrano. Number one: He’s obnoxious. Number two: He and I were enemies over a decade ago in high school. Number three: He’s my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I could go on and on, really. When my boss gives me an unwanted assignment and tells me it involves spending time with the grandson of one of our residents—the grandson turns out to be Troy. He’s now as successful as he is undeniably handsome. Lucky me. Four hours a week of having to deal with his insufferable personality and unsolicited advice. The only consolation is getting to stare at his annoyingly gorgeous face in between our many arguments. Eventually, though, we slowly warm to each other and our outings become something I actually look forward to. What’s happening to me? Apparently, I misunderstood the assignment, because it certainly didn’t include thinking about Troy when I close my eyes at night, imagining what it would be like with him—just once. All the while hating myself for fantasizing about a guy who’s all wrong for me. A guy whose car I keyed back in the day. (Long story, but he deserved it.) That’s all this is—a fantasy. Well, until that one night at the bar. The night Troy and I run into each other, and all of our pent-up frustration comes barreling out. Still, I refuse to accept that it means anything. There’s no way the guy I’m supposed to hate is also the one I can’t live without.
I hadn’t gone out with a man in ages, and I needed to get back in the game before I shriveled up. I laughed to myself. If only these dating app boys could see me in this mask and robe. I sipped my tea and began to alternate scrolling with shoveling unsweetened cacao nibs into my mouth. After several minutes of swiping through, I suddenly stopped chewing at the sight of a familiar pair of pearly whites. I know those teeth. I know that man. Oh God. Staring me in the face was none other than Troy Serrano. Holy crap. Troy, 29 I tossed my phone as if it were infected with a contagious virus. A few seconds later, I picked it back up and stared at his profile picture. I wouldn’t have imagined Troy needed to use a dating app, but being new to town again, maybe he felt like it was the easiest way to meet people. Of course, the app had sent him my way in part because we were geographically close to each other. I wanted to block him, but I wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. I’d never had to block anyone from seeing my profile before. But there was no way I wanted him to notice me on here. If he’d come up as an option for me, surely the app would present me to him at some point. My stomach sank. I’d figure out how to block him right after I thoroughly scrutinized his profile. The photos he’d chosen were, of course, really good. But could he even take a bad photo with that face and f*ck-me hair? In one, he wore a form-fitting black sweater and leaned up against a brick wall. In another, he held up a fish he’d caught, with his chiseled abs on display. Then I scrolled down to the section where you were supposed to describe yourself. Whereas most men write a simple paragraph, Troy had written an obituary. God, what the hell is this?
Financial advisor Troy S.’s love of life will live on through his many friends who will continue to honor his legacy by living their lives to the fullest. Born in Meadowbrook, New Jersey, to a single father who broke his ass raising him, Troy learned firsthand what it meant to work hard. On his own, though, he figured out that working hard meant you should play harder. Troy attended the University of Florida for both his undergraduate degree and Masters in Business Administration. (Go Gators!) After several years of partying it up, Troy decided to take life seriously for once as he embarked on a career as one of the premier financial advisors in the Pacific Northwest. Troy shared his passion for numbers with his many happy clients. The simplest pleasures in life brought great joy to Troy. He was equally happy Netflix-and-chilling as he was ziplining in Costa Rica. On weekends, Troy often spent time teaching himself how to play the guitar. He loved to explore local hiking trails and struck up conversations with strangers in many of Seattle’s coffee shops, charming people with his charisma and verve for life. He had a remarkable ability to see the silver lining in everything. His positive personality was contagious to everyone he met. Troy is survived by his father, grandfather, and one needy cat. Lucky for you, all of the above is mostly true except that Troy’s not actually dead. He’s very much alive and eager to see if you’re a match.
Lordy. My phone vibrated, scaring the living hell out of me. It was a text from Jasmine, making sure I’d gotten home okay. But then the screen changed. Wait, what? When my hand jerked, I’d accidentally swiped right on Troy’s profile. I wouldn’t have even realized this were it not for the words: It’s a match! What? Oh no. No. No. No. If we matched, that meant one thing: Troy had previously swiped right on me. Ugh! How long had he known I was on here? I threw the phone again, as if it were infected with yet another dangerous virus. For about a minute, I just sat in a panic, my hands wrapped around my face. Then I picked up the phone to try to undo the action. But before I could find the information, a notification popped up. Troy had sent me a direct message through the app. My heart pounded in my chest. I clicked on it.
Troy: Well, well, well. What do we have here?
I couldn’t type fast enough.
Aspyn: We have nothing here. I accidentally swiped right on your profile. This was a mistake.
My pulse raced as the little dots moved around.
Troy: Um, what now? How exactly does that happen? Accidentally swiping right?
I realized how ridiculous that sounded. But it was the damn truth! Figures the stupidest thing ever would happen to me, and I’d never be able to convince him it was true.
Aspyn: My phone vibrated and startled me. I happened to be looking at your profile at the time.
Troy: Oh, that explains it. Phones vibrating can be quite traumatic.
I blew a frustrated breath toward my forehead.
Aspyn: You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.
Troy: Why were you looking at my profile?
Aspyn: Because this stupid app force fed it to me.
Troy: So, were you looking at my pictures, thinking: “Damn, he’s a handsome sonofabitch. Too bad I hate him.”
Aspyn: You got the last part right. 😉
Troy: What did you think of my profile?
Aspyn: Honestly?
Troy: Yeah.
Aspyn: It’s utterly obnoxious.
Troy: Why do you say that?
Aspyn: That fake obituary? LOL Do you expect people to take you seriously?
Troy: It was supposed to be FUNNY and clever. I thought you said you liked funny men, according to your boring-as-f*ck bio.
Aspyn: If I’m so boring, why the hell did you swipe right on me?
Troy: Because I couldn’t get myself to swipe left. I felt bad for you. Let’s talk about your bio, though.
I looked up and screamed at the ceiling. My voice echoed throughout the house.
Aspyn: Let’s not.
Troy: Boring. As. F*ck. First off, though, a compliment: You look really hot in those photos. I barely recognized you.
I refused to acknowledge the chill that ran down my spine at his backhanded compliment. Instead, I typed again.
Aspyn: Nothing like immediately following up an insult with a compliment and then another insult.
Troy: It’s constructive criticism. I know you’re better than that bio. It was as if you copied and pasted it from some other boring-as-f*ck profile.
Aspyn: There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s simple and to the point. You’re not supposed to write a dissertation—or an obituary.
Troy: But you’re not selling who you actually are.
Aspyn: I didn’t realize I was supposed to be “selling” myself. I have enough trouble on the app attracting losers without doing anything at all. Maybe I should intentionally remain boring to keep them away. Yeah, that’s a better idea.
Troy: Well, your photos are the bomb. So you’re gonna attract a fair share of men. But come on, put a little life into the other stuff.
Aspyn: I was embarrassed for you reading your profile.
Troy: Well, at least within my fake obituary lies the essence of who I am.
Aspyn: A buffoon? You’re correct.
Troy: Let me help you rewrite your bio.
I cackled and typed.
Aspyn: No, thank you.
Troy: Give me a sec.
AUTHOR BIO
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall StreetJournal 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.
Lives are on the line at Engine 6 … and so are hearts.
Newly-minted firefighter Abby Sullivan is exactly where she wants to be: Chicago Fire Department’s Engine 6, the station where her mom blazed a trail as one of the first female firefighters in the city. The first to fall in the line of duty, too. All Abby wants is to succeed, but that’s a tough proposition when people only see a feel-good story, a token woman failing at a man’s job, or the princess in need of protection. And the man tasked with watching her six?
Lieutenant Roman Rossi, the one person she can’t let close.
Having the daughter of his boss and nemesis under his wing shouldn’t be a problem for Roman—he’s a professional and can treat her like any other firefighter rookie. Except she happens to be the gorgeous woman he once shared a slice of cherry pie with, followed by the hottest, sweetest, most pulse-pounding kiss of his life. He didn’t know her name but he had planned to find out.
Now Roman knows exactly who Abby is: a threat to his self-control more dangerous than a five-alarm blaze. Lust has no place in the firehouse, and a distraction like Abby with her electric blue eyes, waves of flame-red hair, and freckles Roman wants to map with his tongue, is one he can ill afford.
Becauseq one wrong move … and it could all go up in smoke.
Up in Smoke is the first in the brand new Hot in Chicago Rookies series about firefighters navigating the trials of new jobs and sizzling romances as they find their place in the world and the love of a lifetime.
Originally from Ireland, USA Today bestselling author Kate Meader cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Harlequins thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron, fire hose, or hockey stick, and she’s there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with big-hearted guys and strong heroines – and heroes – who can match their men quip for quip.
Title: Scarlett and the Big Bad Billionaire Series: Eastport Bay Billionaires #6 Author: Tru Taylor
Genre: Small Town Romantic Comedy Release Date: February 14, 2022
BLURB
In my expert opinion, every woman who’s been left at the altar should follow up that singularly humiliating experience by spending a week in paradise with a totally inappropriate—and totally sexy—stranger.
Even better if you meet him at the bar of the resort hotel where your destination wedding and honeymoon were supposed to take place.
Even even better if he’s hot and jacked and there are no names exchanged and zero chance of ever seeing him again afterward.
One week of no-holds-barred sex, sun, rum, and fun and your broken heart is on the road to recovery— or at least approaching the on-ramp.
Of course, the key to pulling off this surefire heartbreak cure is to make sure you don’t fall for him during that amazing week during which you lived out every sexual fantasy you’ve ever had.
And whatever you do, don’t run into your non-honeymoon fling three years later—at your matchmaking grandma’s house.
SCARLETT AND THE BIG BAD BILLIONAIRE is a hot small-town rom com take on Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. It’s a standalone enemies to lovers, mistaken identity, jilted bride romantic comedy filled with heart, heat, and billionaire romance fun!
“I hate him,” I said, not for the first time tonight. Wouldn’t be the last either. “We all do, honey,” Maddie soothed. “He’s a cotton-headed ninny muggins, and you’re better off without him.” Maddie had replaced all her favorite swear words with toddler-appropriate variations since becoming a mother, but I appreciated the furor and loyalty behind the silly phrase. I rested my forehead against the cool surface of the outdoor bar. It smelled like beer and pineapple. “What I don’t understand is why he even flew here with me in the first place if he knew he wasn’t going to go through with it.” “He told Joey he didn’t want to embarrass you since you’d already had your bridal shower. And he thought he could do it… up until this morning.” “It’s like my dad and mom all over again.” They were never married?” my younger half-sister asked, clearly shocked. “No, no, they were, but he left. They all do eventually.” “Not all of them,” she said. “Not Joey. He knows I’ll track him down and deep fry his Rocky Mountain oysters if he even thinks of leaving me alone with two kids under five.” “You wouldn’t get the chance to mutilate him because I’d do it for you,” I vowed before slurping what remained of the brightly colored drink in my glass. “Besides, you can’t go to prison—you have to be there for the kids, whereas I will apparently never be having any.” Maddie gave me a chiding glance as she offered me a sip of her club soda. “Last one, okay? You’re not used to drinking so much. You’re just piling misery on top of sorrow. Besides, I can’t stay awake much longer, and mom wants us to do brunch tomorrow morning before she and my dad leave.” Unlike me, our mother had managed to find a great guy after her marriage to my father ended. A couple years after she’d married David, Maddie had been born, and my life had become infinitely better. At the moment though, I didn’t want to face any of them—not even my sweet half-sister who wanted me to be sensible instead of ordering every umbrella drink on the bar menu. “Nooooooooo,” I whined. “No brunch. No Eggs Benedict and sad eyes and ‘I’m sorry’s’ and ‘better luck next time, kiddos.’ I wish I could have gotten a flight out today. Then I wouldn’t have had to spend two hours at my ‘un-reception’ assuring everyone how okay I am and trying not to spill on this dress so I can re-sell it.” My reception dress was a clingy red knit that matched the beautiful bougainvillea growing all around the property of the resort hotel. It was the only thing I’d packed for my destination wedding and honeymoon that wasn’t beachwear or resort casual. Come to think of it, maybe I should have just changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It wasn’t like I was going to impress anyone at this point. For some reason I’d had some thought of maintaining dignity or some such nonsense. That concern was long gone tonight, thanks to Captain Morgan and the crew. Maddie patted my back. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you should keep it. It looks amazing on you. Bryce didn’t deserve that dress, and he didn’t deserve you. He’s boring—and he smells like hot dog water.” I lifted my head. “What?” “He does. I didn’t want to say anything about it when I thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with him, but it’s true. I don’t know how you stood it. I’ll tell Mom and David you don’t feel up to brunch. You can just see them when everyone gets home.” Ugh. I did not relish the thought of going back to face all my co-workers and friends who hadn’t gotten the word yet about my canceled wedding. But I would. Because I had to. What was the alternative? Spending my honeymoon here alone? Maddie and Joe had to go back home—they both had work, and Trina had school. Mom and David were scheduled to go off on an excursion to the Acropolis tomorrow, not that I’d want to spend my un-honeymoon with them. “What you need now is a hot bath and a good night’s sleep,” Maddie said. “What I need is another drink.” I raised my hand to get the attention of the young bartender who was looking more and more like Tom Cruise as the hours—and colorful drinks—added up. He nodded at me and started mixing a replacement for my empty glass. “Or maybe a lobotomy so I can’t think about it anymore,” I added. “Or… a night with one of those guys,” Maddie said with waggling eyebrows. “I’ll bet you wouldn’t even remember Bryce’s name in the morning.” I followed my sister’s pointed gaze to a group of guys on the other side of the bar. They were boisterous and loud as if maybe they’d started the party elsewhere and this was just one of many stops along their trail of debauchery tonight. Every one of them was jacked, like they were bodybuilders—but then, no, they weren’t puffed up and slickly styled. Rather they were tough looking, their sinewy strength the kind that resulted from manual labor or old-fashioned bodyweight exercises. Several of them were tatted up. “Don’t be ridiculous. The last thing I’m interested in right now is men. You don’t cure a hangover with more alcohol.” “Um… have you never heard of ‘hair of the dog that bit you?’” she asked. “I’m not interested in dog hair, horsehair, or sexily scruffy dark hair with a golden auburn streak,” I said, checking out the attractive guy at the very end of the bar. He didn’t appear to be drinking like the rest of his posse. “And I’m definitely not interested in a military guy.” “You think they’re military?” she asked, studying them more closely now. “What’s wrong with that?” “My dad was a SEAL, remember? Ninety percent divorce rate?” “Oh right. But how do you know these guys are military?” “Don’t stare at them,” I hissed. “They’ll take it as an invitation.” She grinned, talking through her teeth like a ventriloquist. “Too late. Incoming hottie alert. Look alive, solider.”
#2
Scarlett Someone was shining a flashlight into my eyes. A strong one. The red glow boring through my eyelids hurt—everything hurt, actually. My head felt like it had a heartbeat, and my body weighed at least six hundred pounds. Cracking my eyelids, I determined the source of the irritating light wasn’t a flashlight but an opening in the hotel room curtains. Hot morning sun streamed in, landing on my face and interrupting a heavy sleep marked by strange dreams of a wedding that never happened and a man who wasn’t my groom spending the night. I sat up abruptly, causing my brain to slosh in my oversensitive skull and turning my stomach. It hadn’t been a dream. The wedding had been called off—and there had been a man. But apparently he hadn’t (thank God) spent the night. Except for the spot where I’d slept, the bed was empty and still neatly tucked. Looking around the room, I saw no sign of the disconcertingly hot guy from last night. I had vague memories of vivid green eyes and white teeth that had gleamed in a wolfish smile so charming I’d actually forgotten for whole minutes at a time that yesterday had been the worst day of my life. But it had. And this afternoon I’d get on a plane, go home to Minnesota, go back to work, and try my best to forget about the whole thing. Ugh. I dreaded the looks of sympathy coming my way—or worse, the friends and co-workers who wouldn’t look at me, who’d find a way to be “busy” when I came into a room because they didn’t know what to do or say. Oh well. What was the alternative? Stay here in the Greek islands and hide forever? Not only could I not afford to do that, the prospect of going on my pre-paid tours and dining at beautiful seaside vistas alone was enough to get my pitiful hungover ass out of bed and moving toward my suitcase to start packing. The sound of a toilet flushing made me jump. Were the walls of the hotel room that thin? Wait—this was a bungalow. There were no shared walls through which you could hear a neighbor’s flushing. Which meant the sound—and the sound of running sink water that followed it—had come from thisbungalow. “Oh good, you’re awake.” A man had rounded the corner and was now standing—shirtless—in my room. Not a man, the man. The one from last night. He looked even better than I’d remembered, with dark, messy hair and a body so fit and muscular it would have made me drool—if I hadn’t been too dehydrated to produce saliva at the moment. His eyes were arresting, and his face as a whole gave me serious young-John-Stamos vibes. Yes, I’d binge-watched every episode of Full House when I was younger—not sorry. “I used one of the complimentary toothbrushes in there. Hope you don’t mind,” he said cheerfully. “I figured since Bryce wouldn’t be using it, it was fair game. Unfortunately, he didn’t leave any shirts, so whenever you’re feeling up to it, I’m gonna have to ask for that one back.” I looked down at myself, only now noticing I was wearing an unfamiliar, and heavenly smelling—good God what was that amazing scent?—man’s t-shirt. And not much else. I pulled up the hem to check and confirmed that yes, I was still wearing the ridiculously expensive, crystal encrusted “bridal thong” Maddie had given me at my shower. “Yes, they’re still on,” he said. I looked back up at the grinning guy…. what was his name? Fox? No, that wasn’t it, though I’d heard it at some point last night and it was completely appropriate when it came to this guy. Wolf. That’s what it was. Also appropriate, considering the look on his face as he stared at the place where I’d drawn up the shirt for a panty-check. I dropped it and tugged the hem down in a futile attempt to cover more of my thighs. “I know. I just… um… did we…?” I’d never had to ask a question like this before, having never been roofied—or drugging myself to the point of oblivion as I apparently had last night. “Did you… sleep over?” His smile widened. “I did.” My heart plummeted then fell further as he added, “But there was no sleeping involved.”
#3
“Miss Hood?” A nursing assistant peeked into the room. “There’s someone who’s asking to speak with you in the hallway.” “Oh. Okay, sure.” I leaned over and kissed Vivi’s cheek. “Be right back.” I stepped into the hallway, expecting to find a nurse or doctor who wanted to speak with me privately. The person waiting there was actually the last one I’d ever have expected to see. “Bryce?” My former fiancé gave me a sympathetic look and stepped forward to hug me. I was so shocked, I let him. You know what? My sister was right—he did smell like hot dog water. “How are you, sweetheart? I came as soon as I heard,” he said. When he released me, I stared at him. “What are you doing here?” “I went to the mansion first—wow, what a place. That must have cost some big bucks. The housekeeper there said your grandmother had been brought here, and you went with her. Is she okay?” I nodded, feeling numb. “She’s doing alright. They’re running tests.” Staring some more, I tried to get it through my head that my ex had flown halfway across the country and was standing in front of me. “Is something wrong?” I asked him. “Did something happen at home?” “No, your family’s all fine. I’m fine,” he said, “Actually, no, that’s a lie. I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine since I lost you.” “Lost me? You didn’t lose me, Bryce. You returned me for a full refund.” “The biggest mistake I ever made,” he said adamantly. “I’ve doing a lot of thinking. And here’s the thing—you’re the love of my life, I can’t live without you. I want you to give me another chance. I want to be there for you… till death do us part.” From behind his back, he produced a bouquet of flowers that had obviously been purchased at the hospital gift shop. In fact, there was a card nestled in the vase with the hospital’s logo—and the inscription, “For Patty. Get well soon. Love, Harold.” Noticing it, Bryce snatched the card out and dropped it on the floor. “Not sure how the florist got that confused.” He shoved the vase of flowers at me. “I know it’s been hard on you since we broke up. And I know you’re not with anyone. You’ve been single since what should have been our wedding night. But you don’t have to be lonely anymore.” Just then, Gray rounded the nurses’ station holding two cups of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. “Actually, she’s been with me since your non-wedding night,” he announced, coming to stand beside me and handing me a cup, which I took automatically. Thanks for that, by the way,” Gray said to Bryce. “I never would have gotten the chance to propose to this amazing woman if you hadn’t fucked up so thoroughly.” “Propose?” Bryce yelped. I shouted the question just as loudly inside my head. “I’m her fiancé,” Gray calmly lied. “We’re getting married.” My ex-fiancé’s gaze fell to my bare left ring finger, and Gray saw it. “We’re still picking out the ring,” he explained. “I want her to have the perfect one. We were planning to fly to LA and New York this weekend to look at two different choices. Vivi’s little scare here might put that off for a bit.” “What are you, some kind of billionaire?” Bryce emitted a snort-laugh. Gray’s expression stayed cool. “Maybe. Maybe not. My financial status is none of your business. The only thing you need to know is I’ve got everything it takes to make Scarlett happy and take care of her. She doesn’t need you—or want you.” He looked down at me, sliding his arm around my shoulders and silently willing me to go along with the ruse. “Right babe?”
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.
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