Title: Bite Marks Series: The Lycans #5 Author: Jenika Snow
Genre: Paranormal Romance Release Date: January 24, 2022
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Adryan
I was ruthless, brutal. A sociopath by all accounts. The leader of the American Vampire Clan, a male who all feared because I was merciless. And then I found my mate. Kayla. So fragile. Breakable. So human. I’d make her mine, and she’d hate me for it. I wanted to give her pain with pleasure, wanted to break her skin and lick up the blood I spilled… take Kayla into me like she’d take me into her. I’d have her surrendering to my needs. I’d give her my body but wouldn’t be able to give her my heart. How could I when it wasn’t something I had to offer, when I was nothing but a coldhearted killer? So when the threats come to my front door, it’s time to show my female she’s mated to the most dangerous vampire in the world.
“So if I’m playing along and accept that you’re a vampire”—holy shit, how weird did that sound?—“how old are you? Like Dracula old, or are we talking decrepit like Nosferatu?” He tipped his head back and laughed loud and hard, his thickly corded neck coming into view. His Adam’s apple bobbed for a second before he sobered. “One hundred twenty years.” It was my turn to sober so hard and fast I might have died. “Goddamn,” I murmured. “You take ‘robbing the cradle’ to a whole new level. You do know I’m not even twenty-five?” He hummed as if that turned him on. “You could have been old and wasted away when we first met, and I’d still find you the most gorgeous female to ever walk the planet.” Okay. That was… beautiful. And weird. Definitely weird, but whatever. “You don’t eat?” I asked instead of saying anything in response to that. My voice was a squeaky whisper before I cleared it and pulled my shoulders back. Adryan made sure to keep his glass full, and damn him for even making that look sexy. He leaned back in his chair but didn’t respond, just watched me as he lifted his glass, peering at me over the rim, and took a pull of the alcohol. When he set the crystal down, his fingers still wrapped loosely around it, the smirk he gave me had equal parts of annoyance and arousal raging against each other. “Oh, I eat.” He was still smirking as he lowered his gaze down my body. He couldn’t see much because of how the table was situated, but I knew if he could, he’d be looking at one particular spot. “I’m just not eating right now, kitty. I’m more concerned with you and your needs.” I cleared my throat and shifted on the chair, looking everywhere but at him. Stay focused. Stay focused. “So why don’t you tell me what kind of man you are.” Of course I knew, or at least had a pretty good notion by the way he held himself, the things he said, hell, the clear abundance of money, judging by his place. Then there was the whole “import and export” business that seemed super shady, given his evasiveness about it. I expected him to smirk arrogantly again, but his expression stayed stoic. “What kind of man do you think I am?” I pursed my lips. “You want me to be honest?” “Abso-f*cking-lutely. I don’t ever lie and wouldn’t want my mate to either.” My throat was so tight and dry. “I think you do bad stuff.” He didn’t respond, didn’t even breathe. “You’re a criminal, among other things, and you’re not going to let me leave.” “No.” His tone was so… final. “I won’t let you leave. And yes. I am all those things… and more.” My eyes narrowed at his cockiness. “You’re an arrogant assh*le.” “I am.” He grinned slowly. “But that’s one of the nicer things I’ve been called, princess.”
Starting out as an avid reader, Jenika took up penning her first story and published it in 2009. Since then, she’s written books in just about every trope and sub-genre in romance.
Title: Dusk Unveiled Series: Ravenwood Coven #2 Author: Carrie Ann Ryan
Genre: Paranormal Romance Release Date: January 13, 2022
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NYT Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan continues her magical paranormal series where a town keeps its secrets, but an aging curse might just be their downfall.
The Christopher curse is one of legend—so old that every new generation knows they will be touched by it. With every spell muttered, every magical pull needed to save her town, Laurel Christopher knows she’s one step closer to burning to ash and leaving those she loves behind. She’ll fight with all she has to protect her people—and the man she loves—but she might not have enough strength remaining to save herself.
Jaxton Dark lost his best friend to the necromancer attacking Ravenwood but refuses to lose his mate to a curse that could take them both. He’s well aware of the loss calling them, but before he can stand up for those he loves, a betrayal cuts him to the core.
Sacrifice was always an inevitability when it comes to the curse that threatens their fate. Yet it’s only when the darkness makes a subtle and surprising move that star-crossed lovers, Laurel and Jaxton, will truly find out the meaning of who they could be and what they must give up to survive.
Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary, paranormal, and young adult romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink, Redwood Pack, Fractured Connections, and Elements of Five series, which have sold over 3.0 million books worldwide. She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has written over seventy-five novels and novellas with more in the works. When she’s not losing herself in her emotional and action-packed worlds, she’s reading as much as she can while wrangling her clowder of cats who have more followers than she does.
He’s a hot single dad. A military man with abs of steel. My brother’s best friend. My biggest enemy. And now my fake date to my best friend’s wedding. Disasterville, here we come…
Mission: Survive my best friend’s wedding, where I must play nice with my ex and his perfect new girlfriend.
Strategy: Bring the hottest fake boyfriend on the planet.
Target: Grady Rock. Master Baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends.
Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother’s best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me.
And the man who just scared off that perfect fake boyfriend.
By pretending to be my real boyfriend.
I can roll with this though. What’s the harm in Flirting with the Frenemy if it helps me get the job done?
Complete my mission and move on.
Or so I thought.
Until Wyatt kisses me again and I start feeling things I shouldn’t.
The thing about weddings…nothing ever goes as planned.
Flirting with the Frenemy is a rollicking fun romantic comedy featuring a single dad military man, an irritatingly attractive blast from his past, pirates, cursing parrots, and a wedding gone wild. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.
Remember that time you accidentally sexted your boss?
Yeah. I just basically did the equivalent. Except worse. Now my millions of social media followers are reading and sharing the rude, smartass message I meant to send privately to my little sister as a joke…and I’m officially public enemy number one.
I’m Beck Ryder. Former boy bander. Underwear model. Fashion mogul. And I buried my entire leg in my mouth—not just my foot—modern internet style, and publicly insulted my sister’s neighbor.
Sarah Dempsey.
Also known as the woman of my dreams, who loves geeky TV shows, baseball, and giraffes, who’s just as turned on by food as I am, and who has a huge secret that I didn’t see coming.
Now it’s time to grovel and apologize publicly on social media and hope that those same followers who helped start the raging shitstorm will help calm the waters.
Because Sarah doesn’t want the spotlight. For very good reasons that I can’t tell you right now and trying to convince her to be my fake girlfriend to fix this mess and make me look like less of a jackass is worse than taking a kick to the nuts by Jackie Chan.
And I thought modeling underwear made me feel naked.
Trying to start a relationship in the era of the Twitterazzi isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.
America’s Geekheart is a rockin’ fun romantic comedy featuring a billionaire fashion mogul who got his start modeling underwear, the geeky girl next door with a secret the size of California, and more superstitions and secrets than you can shake a baseball bat at. It stands alone with no cheating or cliffhangers.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.” “Kiss me? I thought you wanted to throttle me.” “Kissing and throttling aren’t mutually exclusive with you.”
Tripp Wilson has to go.
Yes, yes, he’s gorgeous, he’s an adorably patient mess of a single dad, he kisses like a god, and he’s possibly the only person in the world who can turn around this baseball team I just inherited, but still, he has to go.
I don’t trust him.
That kissing thing?
Let’s call it a mistake. Pretty sure he’d agree. After all, he was the one pretending to be someone else when it happened.
But if I don’t take him on as the president of operations of the Copper Valley Fireballs, the worst baseball team in the history of professional sports which now belongs to me, I’ll be forced to sell the one last link I have to my family.
But there will be no more kissing. No more flirting. And no more swooning over him with his two preschoolers.
First of all, because he lied to me.
And second of all, because I might be lying to him too.
All’s fair in business and baseball, right?
Tell that to my heart.
Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire is a rocking fun romance between a single dad obsessed with baseball, an heiress with secrets, baseball pants, a rundown team, and rabid ducks. It stands alone and comes with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
He could have the world, yet he’s looking at me like I am his world.
You don’t know me, but you do know me. I’m your neighborhood hot mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose, which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore.
Related: I’m writing this from beyond the grave, because I’ve died of mortification and am now residing in an alternate universe.
I have to be.
Because Levi Wilson came back.
And we had a moment.
Like, a moment moment. The kind that makes me remember that adult pleasure isn’t all about hoping the lock holds in the bathroom so your kids don’t interrupt on the rare occasion you feel like taking an extra-long mommy-time shower.
So when he proposes a no-strings fling?
Count. Me. In.
Thrill of a lifetime, right?
Surely, nothing will go wrong…
The Hot Mess and the Heartthrob is a rockin’ fun, sexy romantic comedy featuring a celebrity panty-melter who doesn’t know what he’s been missing, a sassy single mom hanging on by a string, three adorable children who would never burst in on a woman when she’s on a toilet (ha!), and shameless ovary-busting moments between a guy who never thought he’d be a dad and a family who thought they got along just fine without him. It stands alone and comes complete with a happily-ever-after.
Pippa Grant is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down your leg. When she’s not reading, writing or sleeping, she’s being crowned employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.
Genre: Romantic Comedy Cover Design: Kelly Greer Photos: Wander Aguiar
#1 Scored – Releasing March 1
Begging my brother’s best friend—aka NHL superstar, Ian Fox—to help me ditch my V Card wasn’t part of my “make it big in NYC” plans.
But after years of being “cute little Evie,” I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right. I’m ready for Mr. Right Now, and Ian is everything I’ve ever wanted in a first time. He’s kind, funny, confident, and has a legendary…stick.
Seriously, his stick has its own page of search results, complete with gray sweatpants shots hot enough to make even a clueless virgin drool.
And yes, my brother will murder us if he finds out, but we’re both grownups.
We can keep a secret. We have to since I just landed an art therapy job working with his troubled team.
All we’re doing is a little practice. (Or…ehem…big practice.)
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ian this nervous, not even before the championship game his senior year of high school, when he knew NHL scouts were up in the stands, ready to break his heart or make his wildest dreams come true. Ian isn’t an anxious person. He’s steady, chill, and confident. To see sweat beading on his forehead as he moves to stand in front of the darkened television, studying the small stack of notecards in his hand is disarming. Is he really this stressed about teaching a bunch of virgins how to make a love connection? Or maybe it’s the fact that his best friend’s little sister just offered him her V-card on a platter. The inner voice has an excellent point.
#2
“No good comes from insomnia scrolling or reading articles about sugar.” I head into the kitchen, fetching the stepladder from beside the fridge. “And what about withholding funny texts from one of your best friends?” Jess tosses casually over her shoulder. “Any good come from that?” “It was nothing,” I say, collecting the small Tupperware container from under the pile of empty coffee bags we’re collecting to earn a free sock cap. “Just a goofy thing. Not worth sharing.” She hums thoughtfully. “Right. And I wasn’t secretly hoping to be teacher’s pet and get Ian’s monster cock to sledgehammer through my V-card.” I tumble off the stepladder in surprise, sending the cookies flying as I reach out to catch myself on the lower cabinets before I crush my tailbone on the tile. “You okay?” Jess calls out. “I’m fine,” I say, my heart still racing. “And the cookies?” I glance over to see the Tupperware container still closed though it has rolled halfway into Cam’s giant tennis shoe. “Also fine, but what are you… How did you…” “Nothing gets past me,” Jess says. “You should know that by now. I appear to see nothing, but I see all. Like the Eye of Sauron.”
#2 Screwed – Releasing April 19
My best friend’s older brother excels at many things—being a bossy grump, a jerk, and…this hopeless virgin’s fake fiancé?
I need a guy who understands that this is all pretend, and who better than a man who can’t stand me—and vice versa? Besides, Derrick is the kind of cocky, confident, successful dude bro my gram will adore.
We’ll convince my ailing grandmother I’m not going to die alone, Derrick will honor that favor he owes me, and we’ll part ways as enemies with NO benefits.
It’s a rock-solid plan…until it isn’t. Turns out I may have made a slight miscalculation.
Now Derrick is charming my family, sweeping me off my feet, and making me want crazy things.
Suddenly, I think I might actually want him to be my first and maybe…my only?
Last night I made out with a gorgeous, funny, quirky older woman. Today I learned she’s the new executive chef at my restaurant. AKA my new boss.
Yep, that’s the hot mess I’m in at the moment. But the chemistry between Beth and me is even hotter. The problem? She’s a single mom focused on helping her little girl adjust to life in the big city. Dating right now—especially a co-worker—is asking for trouble. So, what’s my next move? Seduce the hell out of the woman, of course.
I may still technically be hanging onto my V Card, but I know how to drive a woman wild in bed. Even more importantly, I know I’m the kind of man Beth’s looking for. I love hard, keep my promises, and I’ll put her and her daughter first.
And then I learn the real reason she’s been holding me at a distance…
Most men would be scared away. Me? I’m even more determined to prove I can make this wounded woman’s dreams come true.
Eight years ago, Sam Baxter and I were best friends and the goofiest computer nerds to matriculate from our swanky high school.
We also made a pact to meet up and get busy if one or both of us were still virgins by our twenty-fourth birthdays.
I assumed that was a silly pinky swear we’d both forgotten about untilSam shows up at my twenty-fourth birthday party. He no longer needs a V-Card puncher, but he’s ready and willing to help me out.
Boy is he ready…
Gone is the lanky kid with glasses who made me snort-laugh when we played video games. In his place is a sex god with massive biceps, designer clothes, and a smolder that transforms women to quivering puddles of lust.
I’m out of my league with this new Sam. But I’m also every bit as drawn to him as I used to be.
So, when he dares me to give him three dates to prove he can be trusted to rock my world, I agree. What do I have to lose aside from my V Card?
Author of over forty novels, USA Today Bestseller Lili Valente writes everything from steamy suspense to laugh-out-loud romantic comedies. A die-hard romantic, she can’t resist a story where love wins big. Because love should always win. She lives in the Northeast with her two big-hearted boy children and a dog named Pippa Jane.
Lili also writes naughty serials as Everly Stone. Learn more at www.lilivalente.com.
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.
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.
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.
Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Vi’s new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!
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.
Title: Stocking Stuffers A Christmas Romance Anthology
Authors: Shanna Swenson, JD Park, Nicole Rodrigues, Kyra Fox, Melissa Williams, JC Jaye, Morgan James, Sutton Fox & ML Preston Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: November 25, 2021
BLURB
Christmas really is the BEST time of year–for romance that is!
These best-selling romance authors have teamed up to bring you contemporary romance shorts that will make your holiday extra steamy!
JD Park, Shanna Swenson, Nicole Rodrigues, Morgan James, JC Jaye, Kyra Fox, ML Preston, Melissa Williams, and Sutton Fox have written nine romantic short stories worth stuffing in your stocking. Covering tropes from second chance, workplace romance, fake boyfriends, age gap, and much more, this collection is sure to add some spiceto your holiday festivities and really get you into the Christmas spirit.
**ALL proceeds from this anthology will go to the nonprofit charity, St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital, for children with cancer.
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.
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.
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