Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
Today, just as I got back to my door, Deacon was exiting his apartment.
“Oh, hey, Carys-Like-Paris. How goes it?” He flashed a wide smile.
When people ask me my name, for some stupid reason, I sometimes answer, “Carys, like Paris,” particularly when I’m nervous. That was the case the first time I met Deacon.
A whiff of his amazing smell put my body on alert. He looked handsome as always. Today he wore a camel-colored suede coat with a shearling collar. His blue eyes, which stood out against his tanned skin, glimmered under the fluorescent lights overhead, which also brought out the copper tint to his otherwise medium-brown hair. He was at least six-foot-two—a beanstalk to my five-foot-four self.
This was my opportunity to bring up last night. But now that he was right here, towering over me, his musky smell saturating the air, I seemed to have lost the words. Still, I was determined to speak up now or never.
My heartbeat accelerated. Here goes. Still out of breath from my sprint up the stairs, I said, “Well, honestly, in answer to your question… I’d love to say I’m doing great, but I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. So, I’ve been better.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Actually, it’s sort of your fault.”
Deacon’s forehead crinkled. “My fault?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if you realize this, but your bed is right up against mine, on the opposite side of the wall. Your…interactions…last night woke me up, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep.”
Boom.
There.
Said it.
Deacon closed his eyes momentarily. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were right behind me.”
“Yeah. It’s basically like I’m…right there.”
“Well, that was rude of me. I should’ve invited you to join.”
What? It felt like all my blood rushed to my head.
He held out his palms. “I’m kidding. Bad sense of humor comes out when I feel awkward, I guess.”
Slipping a piece of my hair behind my ear, I brushed off his comment. “I know you’re kidding.”
“Totally kidding.” He smiled. “But I’ll try to be more considerate now that I know you can hear everything. You should’ve said something.”
I tilted my head. “How exactly would that have worked? Barging in on two naked people? That’s why I’m saying something now.”
“Solid point. But I take it last night wasn’t the first time you overheard things?”
I looked down at my feet. “No, it wasn’t.”
“You could’ve banged on the wall or something.”
“I’m not one to rudely interrupt someone’s…personal happenings. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. We don’t need to discuss it further.”
“Maybe we should come up with a code.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, If I’m disturbing your peace, you play a song and crank it up to send me a message.” He snapped his fingers. “Something ironic like ‘The Sounds of Silence’ by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Can’t exactly crank up a song when a baby is sleeping.”
His smile faded. “See? That goes to show you how clueless I am. Clueless and so sorry, Carys. Truly. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
“It better not, fuckboy!” a voice shouted from behind one of the apartment doors.
Deacon and I turned around in unison. I noticed Mrs. Winsbanger’s door move across the hall. The old lady must have been listening in. She lived alone, and I often spotted her peeking out her door, spying on people.
Deacon grimaced. “Mrs. Winsbanger loves me.”
“Apparently I’m not the only one who overheard things last night,” I said.
His face turned red. His embarrassment was a bit surprising. I’d expected him to be more cocky.
“I’ll move my bed to the other side of the room. That should help.”
“Well, that would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not.”
Happy to have the conversation over with, I let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll let you get going.”
He didn’t budge and seemed to be examining my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem frazzled.”
Well, yeah. I didn’t get good sleep, I’m trying to get things done in possibly the only hour of the day I have free, and we just had the most awkward conversation EVER.
“This is just me—my life. I have what could be barely more than an hour to eat my lunch and have some quiet time before my daughter wakes up from her nap.”
“Ah.” He scratched his chin. “How old is she now?”
“Six months.”
Deacon knew I was a single mom. He’d run into me one day and helped me bring groceries in while I tried to juggle Sunny and her stroller.
I was just about to head back inside my apartment when his voice stopped me.
“Do you need anything?”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. “Like what?”
“Something from the store? A…coffee, maybe? I’m just headed out to run a quick errand, but I can stop somewhere on the way back.”
“It’s the least you can do, monkey balls!” Mrs. Winsbanger chimed in from across the hall.
She was apparently still listening.
“Did she just fucking call me monkey balls?” he whispered.
At that moment, I lost it. Laughter got a hold of me, and it took almost a minute before I could even speak. Deacon laughed, too, but I think he was more cracking up at my reaction.
“No idea why she just called you monkey balls. But I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks.”
After I finally calmed down, Deacon repeated his earlier question.
“Anyway, as I was saying, can I get you a coffee or something?”
His offer gave me pause. It was rare that anyone asked if I needed anything. I had a couple of good friends in the city, but they worked and had busy social lives. It wasn’t like they were around in the middle of the day to run to the store for me. And given that it was fall in New York, it was getting chilly out. I had to have a damn good reason to take Sunny out in the cold.
Honestly, I was dying for a latte from Starbucks. Running to the coffee shop was definitely something people without babies took for granted. It wasn’t worth having to bundle Sunny up.
“I would love a vanilla latte from Starbucks, if you pass one on your way back,” I finally said.
“Done.” He smiled. “That’s it?”
“Just one pump of vanilla would be great.”
“One pump. Got it. Anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough? It’s hardly a necessity. I shouldn’t be taking advantage.”
“Take advantage of me. What else do you need? Seriously. It’s the least I can do after disturbing your peace last night.”
Take advantage of me.Yup. Mind straight in the gutter. “You’re not my gopher.”
“Carys….” His baritone voice turned serious, and he repeated in a slow and exaggerated manner, “What. Do. You. Need? I could run to the store.”
There was something else I desperately needed.
“Diapers?” I said hesitantly.
“Okay.” He laughed. “You’re gonna have to help me out with those. I’ve never purchased them in my life.”
Before I could tell him what size, he handed me his phone. I was all too aware of the brief touch of his hand.
“Enter your digits. I’ll text you from the store to make sure I get the right kind.”
I did as he said before handing him back the phone, once again enjoying the contact from that brief exchange. Cheap thrills were as good as it got these days.
He put it in his pocket. “Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, you can let me know when I text.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Talk to ya in a bit,” he said before heading down the hall.
I stood by my door and watched him walk away. The view from the back was just as good as the front. And moreover, it seemed Deacon was just as lovely on the inside as he was on the outside.
“One pump my ass,” I heard Mrs. Winsbanger say before she slammed her door.
AUTHOR BIO
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
Drive Me Wild, an all-new flirty and heartwarming, opposites-attract romance by USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow is available now!
My Take: Drive Me Wild brings us a lighter, funnier, small town vibe from Melanie Harlow. There’s tons of steam, tons of humor, and tons of quirky small town characters. It was a fun, quick, lighthearted read. I can’t wait to read Cheyenne’s story! 4 Stars
Blurb:
When Blair Beaufort literally crashes into Bellamy Creek wearing a ball gown and a tiara, I should have towed her car, said goodnight, and sent her packing.
I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I’ve got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful.
Problem is, she’s stranded in my small town, and I’m hiding a protective streak underneath my grumpy exterior that runs deep. So I offer her a place to stay and keep my hands to myself.
For exactly one night.
If only she weren’t so gorgeous. So funny. So eager to please. She’s a disaster behind the wheel, but she drives me wild without even trying–at work, at home, in the back of my truck . . . I can’t get enough of the way she makes me feel.
But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.
So when it comes time for her to leave, there’s nothing I can do but let her go.
Switching off the lights, I followed her out onto the sidewalk, locking the door behind us. “I need a quick shower and change of clothes. Want to come up with me?” “Sure.” I was following her up the stairs to my apartment, looking at her ass and wondering if she had sexual rules and how long it would take me to break them, when I realized she was still talking. Shit, had she just asked me a question? At the top of the stairs, she turned around and faced me. “So? Are you going to?” I stood close. Ridiculously close. So close I could smell her—vanilla and lemon—and she could probably smell me—sweat and motor oil.
“Am I going to what?”I asked, looking at her lips. She licked them. “Listen to me.” “Oh. Yeah. I am.” But at that moment, I was pretty sure I was going to do something else to her too. Suddenly she stepped back. “Good,”she said, her cheeks flushed pink. “On second thought, I think I’ll wait outside. I’m a little warm, and there’s a nice breeze.” “Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Nodding, she turned and descended the stairs so slowly, I wondered if she was dizzy. I watched her hand sliding along the wooden rail, thinking dirty thoughts. On the landing, she pushed the door open and disappeared from view, but I still couldn’t breathe right. What would she have done if I’d put my mouth on hers like I’d wanted to just now? Would she have kissed me back? Would she have welcomed my hands on her skin? Or would she have kneed me in the balls and told me to keep my filthy fingers to myself? She wasn’t like any other girl I’d ever met, which was both the problem and the allure. I didn’t know how to read her. But damn, I wanted her something fierce. I took an ice cold shower, hoping it would help. It didn’t.
About Melanie
USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like Schitt’s Creek, Homeland, and Fleabag. She occasionally runs
three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the CLOVERLEIGH FARMS series, the ONE & ONLY series, AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband,
Backup Plan by New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Emily Goodwin is now live!
My Take:
Backup Plan is the first book in the new Silver Ridge series from Emily Goodwin. It has all the family dynamics, heat, and heart you’d expect from an Emily Goodwin novel.
Chloe has had a crush on Sam since they met as children, but after a falling out in college they haven’t seen each other in years. They’re both back in their hometown and reconnect. Can Chloe move on from Sam’s past mistakes? Can Sam convince her he’s changed? There is a lot of steam and heat while they figure it out!
Sam was actual perfection (jacked, kind, always-willing-to-catch-you Anesthesiologist). Chloe … I wish we would have gotten to know better. So much time is spent discussing people not liking her in high school rather than who she is today. We know more about her love of D&D than we do her actual personality outside of Creepy Chloe! 3 1/2 Stars
When we were only kids, Sam Harris and I made a promise we’d marry each other if we were still single when we turned thirty. Well, my thirtieth birthday has come and gone and I’m still as single as ever.
And as far as I know, so is Sam.
But it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other, and after what he did to me our senior year of college, I wouldn’t put his ring on my finger even if he begged me to marry him. Never mind his devilish good looks. Or the fact that the playboy partier is a doctor now.
Nope, I’m sticking to my guns with this, and when I go back to my hometown of Silver Ridge for the first time in years, I won’t pay him the slightest bit of attention. Well…until he convinces me to go out for drinks to catch up. I knew it was a bad idea the moment I agreed to it.
And then he brings up our childhood promise.
It might be fun and games to him, but it’s not to me. Because as much a I don’t want to admit it, Sam has always been my first choice. And I don’t want to be nothing more than his backup plan.
Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.
She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.
Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.
(ARC REVIEW) This book took me by surprise! It was not exactly what I’ve come to expect from the author, but it’s wonderful that an author’s talents grow and change as they do. It has her signature heat and southern charm, but it does delve into some darker topics as well.
The balance between the dark and light is so well done. There are some raw, gut-punching, heart wrenching moments but there are also plenty of light and sexy parts. There are a lot of hot and steamy scenes that describe postpartum sex in a very real way. I loved that it wasn’t immediately sunshine and rainbows.
I am always in favor of speaking up about mental health, so I applaud the author for writing about postpartum depression and the struggles of new motherhood. It was real and raw and made my heart hurt. Beau also had his share of mental health woes so it was beautiful to watch two people who are struggling come together, despite their challenges. It’s not painted as “love heals all” thankfully, but they do realize they don’t have to push love aside in order to heal and thrive.
The friends-to-lovers relationship felt entirely believable. I loved the honesty between them and the love that existed and changed throughout their journey.
I loved the setting of the book and know that it will be a great backdrop for the rest of the series! This is Jessica Peterson at her finest and I can’t wait for more!
BLURB: I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff in my life. But sleeping with my best friend tops the list.
Annabel and I have been close since college. When I left school to play pro football, she was there. While I collected Super Bowl rings and cars worth more than the house I grew up in–she was there.
I always assumed we’d end up together. Everyone did.
But by the time I retired from football, Bel was married. I thought I’d missed my shot at love.
So I buried myself in my new job as CEO of Blue Mountain Farm, a five-star resort my family and I built in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. It seems like a good place to be alone with the secret I have to keep from her.
Now Bel is a divorced single mom, struggling to raise her daughter on her own–and it’s my turn to be there for her.
So I invite her and the baby up to the resort for some much needed R&R.
Then, in a moment of bonfire-and-bourbon induced weakness, I kiss her.
And the fallout could ruin everything.
SOUTHERN SEDUCER is a full length, standalone novel. It is the first book in the all new North Carolina Highland series.
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
Jessica Peterson writes smart, sexy romance set in her favorite cities around the world. She grew up on a steady diet of Mr. Darcy, Jamie Frasier, and Edward Cullen, and it wasn’t long before she started creating irresistible heroes of her own. She loves strong coffee, stronger heroines, and heroes with hot accents.
She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her husband Ben, her daughter Gracie, and her smelly Goldendoodle Martha Bean.
USA Today bestselling author Meghan Quinn brings more humor and heart with the fourth novel of her Getting Lucky series: a story about breaking curses and finally finding that swoony feeling.
I’m single . . . so single it’s painful.
Yup, ladies, Brig Knightly–that’s me–is still a lonely bachelor, stumbling through the streets of Port Snow, looking for the girl he’s supposed to end up with.
That is until my brother, Rogan, presents me with the opportunity of a lifetime. The Summer of Love, a secret pen pal program in Port Snow is looking for applicants and I’m the perfect fit.
I couldn’t sign up fast enough.
I found myself quickly falling in love with a pair of red lips at the bottom of a letter. Just like in the movies . . .
Life could not have been better, that was until I started hanging out with Ruth Barber. Starting a new business right next to my shop, I found myself gravitating toward her. Her smile, her humor . . . her tea sandwiches.
My attraction for Ruth came in full force, leaving me dazed, confused, and *ahem* excited.
As new feelings for two women come to a screeching halt, I have to figure out who to choose. But when I discover my pen pal is Ruth, it might be too late.
All I want in life is to experience that swoony feeling . . . but I think I might have just missed my chance.
PROLOGUE:
**BRIG**
Hands stuffed in my pockets, I look at Reid while nibbling on the corner of my lip. “But—” “Brig, I swear to God,” Reid says, dragging his hand down his face while we make our way past Jackson Square, toward Café Du Monde. “Do not ask about your penis turning green one more goddamn time. We all looked at it. It’s flesh colored. Any signs of green you might have seen was from the shit lighting in the bathroom. Now, drop it.” “Yeah, okay,” I sigh, even though I don’t feel convinced. Something happened last night. Something terrifying. Something that has left me shaking in my shoes—because I don’t wear boots—wanting to rip my pants down repeatedly to make sure things are still intact. Two days ago, I turned twenty-one, and to celebrate the youngest Knightly’s freedom to hold a beer in his hand legally, my three brothers took me to New Orleans to party in style. And we did . . . up until last night, when the depths of hell tried to swallow us all whole. Mom warned us, saying, “Don’t get into any trouble.” My dad slapped the back of our heads before we left and told us to use our brains. Even our sister, the oldest and wisest of the Knightly children, stared us in the eyes and told us not to do anything stupid. And yet, we failed all of them. Have you ever been to New Orleans? Neither had I, but I’d heard great things about the place. Drinking in the streets and peekaboo boobs on every corner. Beignets and rice and beans. Scandalous fun. Sounded like a great time. But after doing extensive research before the trip—I like to plan ahead—the one thing I wanted to avoid, the one thing that made me extremely nervous, was the voodoo magic prevalent on the grimy cobblestone streets. You know what I’m talking about. The dark stuff, the chilling life-altering spells that can change you as a man . . . as a human. *Whispers* Black magic . . . We did a great job avoiding any and all scary things, until last night, when I inadvertently ran smack dab into the palms of evil. Shocking news: I was drunk. I couldn’t tell if I was walking on cobblestone streets last night or lobster rolls—that’s how far gone I was—so when I stumbled over a palm reader’s table and broke it, I wasn’t exactly aware of the severity of my mistake. She roared with displeasure. Her eyes tore through me with veritable hatred that shook me to the tip of my dick. And her gangly fingers rattled while she spoke vehemently. Terrified out of my wits, I held up my palm while my brothers tossed her twenty bucks and asked her to read it. I wish I could remember what she said. The future she spoke of is all a blur at this point. Pretty sure she said something about how incredibly handsome I am and how I outshine my brothers with the curves of my jaw, but I can’t be quite sure. The boys deny that part of the story, but they don’t deny the stark hatred that spit like venom from the petrifying woman’s mouth. My brothers, of course, didn’t make the situation any better by making fun of her predictions. They actually sparked the flame that set the fire. I might be telling this wrong—you know, completely wasted and all—but the moment the palm reader turned an evil shade of hate, I felt every ounce of fun-loving booze seep from the bottom of my feet and out into the streets, sobering me up to the point of understanding. In a whirlwind of vengeful movements, her arms waved about, the wind swirled around us, trash from the streets danced around my jean-covered legs, and the palm reader’s eyes turned yellow—I confirmed that fact with all three brothers this morning. Indeed, her eyes were yellow. And then she said something I will never forget . . . This wretch of a wench cloaked in the devil’s garb took our fate into her own hands and punished us with broken love. Broken. Love. If you know me at all, you’d know that would cut deep to my very being. Then Reid said something about her telling us our dicks were going to fall off or turn green; can’t be sure, because I was stunned. Stunned with the notion that my entire life goal of getting married and becoming a doting husband was quickly stripped from my soul and set into blazing embers, never to be seen again. The miscreant cursed the one thing I strive for as a man . . . that swoony feeling of being wrapped up in a warm, safe relationship with a woman. And I can’t shake it. No matter what my brothers say, no matter how many times they tell me to drop it, I keep worrying. I keep remembering the whirl of evil that was cast upon us. I keep trying to decode the meaning of it all. Are we truly cursed? “There’s a table over there,” Griffin, my oldest brother, says, making a beeline toward the back corner of the incredibly busy beignet-making icon. We came here for their famous beignets when we first arrived and decided to indulge one more time. We catch a flight to Port Snow this afternoon and before we get back to our gossip-loving town, I want to set some things straight. Taking seats, we quickly put in an order for beignets and a café au lait each, and when the waitress leaves, I say, “Can we talk about last night?” Reid groans and slouches in his chair. He’s in a shit mood, and I’m not sure if it’s from the phone call he got last night that he’s not talking about or if it’s because he’s hung over. Maybe a combo of both. “Can we not?” “Aren’t you worried?” I ask, looking around at my brothers. I can’t possibly be the only one who’s concerned here. But it seems like I might be. Griffin is texting. His wife, I’m sure. Rogan is staring at the trifold menu on the table. And Reid is rubbing his eyes with his palms, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here. “Uh, hello? Do you guys not remember what happened last night? The whole alarming witch in a cloak thing, waving her dangly bone fingers at us. Table-breaking, palm-reading curses being flung about like beads off a balcony? Ring a bell?” Griffin sets his phone down and lets out a deep breath. His tone is the even, oldest-brother sensible voice. “We were drunk last night, Brig.” “Yeah, we were, but it doesn’t negate the fact that we all woke up with the same story this morning. She cursed us. You’re telling me none of you are concerned?” I glance around to all three pairs of blue eyes, the same blue eyes I share, and none of them are returning the look. Which tells me they’re not willing to admit they’re just as scared as I am. I poke Rogan in the side. “Hello, are you listening?” “Trying not to,” he says, his fingers pressing to his left eye. “Fuck, my head is pounding.” Rogan is my second oldest brother, the quiet and annoyed one. He’s had a rough go at life and barely cracks a smile anymore. He’s more interested in punishing himself for the decisions he’s made in the past than in parting the dark cloud that hangs over his head so he can experience the world. As a retired football player, if pushed too hard, he’s been known to fight back. I think I’ll pass on leaning on him now. “Griff.” I turn to the reasonable one in the group. “You saw it all, the way she spouted off that little limerick about broken love. She came up with that out of nowhere. It rhymed and everything. Who does that? Who wishes broken love on unsuspecting tourists? Frankly, it’s fucked up.” The waitress drops off our food and drinks. We give her a mumbled thank you before she takes off to serve another table in the busy outdoor seating area. Mouth full of beignet and powdered sugar coating his lips, Griffin says, “If she was half the palm reader she said she was, then she would have known that I was already married and this curse she set upon us was flawed. Yeah, was it strange that there was wind whipping around when she raised her arms—” “The wind was weird,” Rogan says. “Wind freaked me out,” Reid grumbles while bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Now you chime in,” I say with an eye roll. “Can I finish?” Griff asks, sounding annoyed. We all silence ourselves with bites into our beignets. “The wind was a strange coincidence, but I also think she was deranged. There’s no merit to what she said, and I think we would waste time thinking about it anymore than we have. Let’s just enjoy breakfast and then get the hell out of here.” “Agreed,” Rogan says. “Yeah,” Reid murmurs. “But—” They all shoot me a death glare, and I snap my mouth shut. I’m outnumbered, and even if I try to press it, they’re not going to change their minds. They’re chalking this experience up to what seems like a drunken it-was-all-an-illusion-we’ll-soon-forget night. But just a quick glance around the table, and I don’t buy it. Worried brows. Keeping to themselves. Shifty eyes. They’re thinking about it just as much as I am. Listen to me, to the words I have spoken. From this day on, your love will be broken. It isn’t until your minds have matured That the weight of this curse will forever be cured. Might not seem like a big deal, but I have a bad feeling our worlds are about to be flipped upside down. And boy, were our lives flipped. Griffin lost his wife. Rogan’s high school sweetheart re-emerged with a vengeance. Reid’s restaurant, his pride and joy, was stolen from him. And me . . . well, I haven’t been in a relationship since the fateful day when my taut and beautiful ass tumbled over a palm reader’s table. Just bad luck? That everything good, everything we loved was taken away from us? No. It was the curse, but surely things would improve on their own. Wouldn’t they? From this day on, your love will be broken.
About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.
R.S. Grey’s next standalone rom-com, The Trouble With Quarterbacks, is coming August 6th! Check it out and order yours today!
My Take:
This book is a funny, sweet, lighthearted romance. It’s pure rom-com entertainment.
Candace is quirky (without being “the quirky girl” stereotype), outgoing, and kindhearted. Logan is determined, steady, without the giant ego one would assume a Super Bowl Champion quarterback would have.
Together they have a ton of chemistry and they *GASP* communicate with each other, for the most part. I loved watching them dance around admitting they were in love.
There is very minimal angst and pretty low drama, just a fun story of two opposites attracting and falling in love.
Blurb:
CANDACE: KAT & YASMINE! DO NOT DALLY! Come straight home after work. Kat, don’t take the long route from the subway station just so you can pass by Cute Hot Dog Guy. This is important!
I’ve had THE BEST DAY. You won’t believe it. There I was in my preschool classroom, washing a bit of poo out of some soggy trousers, when this absolute babe came to collect his nephew from my class.
Truthfully, I thought I’d blacked out for a moment when I first saw him. He was a proper hunk with glorious brown hair, quite tall, and he had these arms. Are muscly arms supposed to turn me on? I’m panting just thinking about them.
Anyway, he told me he’s a professional foosball player. At least, I think that’s what he said. The tots can get quite loud near pick-up time.
YASMINE: Foosball? What are you on about? Have you gone mad?
KAT: Oh sod off. So what if I like to have a good look at Hot Dog Guy’s arse on my trek home after a hard day’s work? It’s called self-care.
CANDACE: Kat, you’re hopeless. Yasmine, yes—foosball! I suppose it’s a big thing over here in the States? We must investigate and learn everything we can.
By the way, he’s called Logan.
Logan + Candace. I think that sounds quite nice! I can hear the wedding bells now. Dum dum da-dum.
YASMINE: Oh good grief. I suppose we can do some snooping when I get home. I’ll grab wine on my way.
KAT: I’ll grab hot dogs.
THE TROUBLE WITH QUARTERBACKS is a hilarious romance about unlikely love found between a British preschool teacher and the professional quarterback who sweeps her off her feet.
R.S. Grey is the USA Today bestselling author of over twenty novels. She lives in Texas with her husband and daughter, and can be found reading, binge-watching reality TV, or practicing yoga! Visit her at rsgrey.com
(ARC Review) This book is sexy as hell. I love that Adriana Locke just dives right into the heat! It definitely takes me back to the Landry family series, not just because there are Landry’s in it, but the style and atmosphere and family dynamics.
Holt and Blaire are both so strong, it was fun watching them be a little weak around each other. The steam and sparks were delightful and immediate. It’s quick reading and fun and sexy, everything I want in a romance!
Blaire Gibson knows better than to have one-night stands.
She prides herself on her decision-making skills. It’s the one asset that has never let her down. But even the best thinkers have weaknesses. Hers is a delicious business mogul with a quick tongue. Unfortunately for her, that tongue is good for more than just talking.
Holt Mason doesn’t need to justify anything to anyone.
He wants Blaire. He pursues Blaire. And he gets Blaire because that’s how his life works.
Until it doesn’t.
What begins as a single night in a hotel room spirals into an unusual agreement. As late nights provide the space to trade secrets and walls come tumbling down, more is shared than just pillow talk.
They both should’ve known better. They should’ve shown restraint. Because when guards are dropped, hearts get hurt.
*RESTRAINT is a brand-new standalone romance from USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke.
About the Author:
USA Today and Washington Post bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.
A writer looking for inspiration in Tuscany. One hot Italian single dad. This summer is going to be a scorcher.
One Hot Italian Summer by New York Times, Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling author, Karina Halle is now live!
My Take:
(ARC was received in exchange for an honest review) Wow what a perfect summertime read! Karina Halle really takes you on a journey, both emotionally and mentally.
Author Grace is mourning the loss of her writing partner while dealing with writer’s block. Her agent lets her borrow her Tuscan villa for the month to recharge, only once Grace arrives she finds she is not alone at the house. Her agent’s sculptor ex-husband, Claudio, in fact owns the Villa, but agrees to let Grace stay so she can work on her novel. Along with his son, Vanni, the three of them spend the summer together and Grace and Claudio find their mutual attraction to be irresistible.
This book is STEAMY and I loved it. It might be Karina’s hottest book yet and I am HERE for it. The passion, the excitement, the scenery were all breathtaking. You could feel the author’s love of Italy (and dresses!) pouring through the words and enveloping you. The food and drink descriptions alone were phenomenal.
What an absolute fantasy to get a free trip to Italy for the summer and find yourself living with a passionate Italian artist who wants nothing more than to make you feel good. This book will sweep you away with it’s stunning imagery and absolute passion.
Blurb:
After the death of her best friend and writing partner, Grace Harper is struggling both with grief, and with her next novel, the first one she’ll have to write alone.
Fortunately, her new powerhouse agent, the formidable Jana Lee, has a solution for her. She can stay at her villa in Tuscany for a month, soak in the sunshine, relax, and find her confidence again. After all, Jana has a lot riding on Grace’s next book, and the last thing she wants is for her reputation as a “super-agent” to be tarnished.
At first the villa is a dream come true for Grace – that is until Claudio Romano shows up one day with his ten-year old son, Vanni, in tow. Turns out, this is Claudio’s house, and Claudio happens to be her agent’s ex-husband from long ago. Thanks to their annual father and son bonding trip being cancelled, Claudio and Vanni are here to stay.
So is Grace.
With the three of them sharing the same house, Grace’s writing plans are thrown out the window. But even if she’s not pounding the keyboard, she’s still finding beauty and inspiration… in none other than Claudio. He’s unlike any man Grace has met before. He’s smart, charming, and wickedly sexy, plus a great father to Vanni. He’d be the perfect summer fling – if only he wasn’t completely off-limits.
But as the hot Italian summer wears on, Grace and Claudio are destined to succumb to the heat, no matter how hard they try to resist each other. One steamy encounter with Claudio could affect Grace’s chances of starting her career over.
Or he could be exactly what she needs.
Download today or read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited
Karina Halle is a former travel writer, music journalist & screenwriter, and The New York Times, Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling author of over 55 bestselling novels, ranging from horror and suspense to contemporary romance. She lives on an island off the coast of British Columbia with her husband, and her adopted pitbull Bruce, where she drinks a lot of wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.
Halle is represented by the Root Literary Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster, Hachette & Montlake. Her work has been translated and published in 20 languages.
Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit http://www.authorkarinahalle.com and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.
Engagement and Espionage, an all-new quirky and swoon-worthy romantic comedy featuring fan favorites Jenn and Cletus Winston from New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid is available now!
My Take: (ARC REVIEW)
Like curling your hand around a warm cup of tea on a cold winter’s day, this book is instant comfort. It felt like putting on a favorite sweater and snuggling up in its warmth.
It was lovely seeing Cletus and Jenn navigate their new relationship while balancing family dynamics. Jenn in particular struggled with balancing work and family and Cletus, and it felt very relatable and real, especially for a younger woman trying to find her place in this world
Cletus’s hijinks were kept to a minimum and I hope in future books he’s allowed to exact revenge if needed. I wanted more crazy antics!
I’d say this is definitely a book for people who are already fans of this family and this world, otherwise parts of it may be confusing.
I loved this book and I can’t wait for more! There’s never enough Winston stories for me. 4 Stars.
Jennifer Sylvester made her deal with the devil . . . and now they’re engaged!
But all is not well in Green Valley. A chicken choker is on the loose, 61 dead birds most “fowl” need plucking, and no time remains for Jennifer and her devilish fiancé. Desperate to find a spare moment together, Jenn and Cletus’s attempts to reconnect are thwarted by one seemingly coincidental disaster after another. It’s not long before Cletus and Jenn see a pattern emerge and the truth becomes clear.
Sabotage!
Will an undercover mission unmask the culprit? Or are these love-birds totally plucked?
‘Engagement and Espionage’ is the first book in the Solving for Pie: Cletus and Jenn Mysteries series, is a full-length cozy mystery, and is a spin-off of Penny Reid’s Winston Brothers series. This novel is best read after ‘Beard Science,’ Winston Brothers #3.
“Don’t stop.” She reached for my belt again, this time completely undoing it, the button of my pants, and my zipper at world-record speed.
Her phone buzzed. Then it chimed. Then it buzzed and chimed two more times. Then it rang again. Reba.
Cursing, Jenn pulled the phone from her pocket, once again her face illuminated, murderous rage in her eyes. Her finger moved to the power off button. She blinked, hesitating. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened, and she gasped.
“Cletus!”
Something about her tone, like she was horrified, and maybe a little afraid, cut through the heavy haze of lust inertia, and my hands stilled. Shaking myself, it took me a few moments to realize she was showing me the phone screen, and another few to bring the content of the text messages into focus.
Momma: Jennifer Anne Sylvester, pick up your phone. If you’re with Cletus, I need his help. Please.
Momma: ALL THE CHICKENS AND ROOSTERS ARE DEAD! PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE!
Momma: I’m calling you in a second, pick up the phone. Mr. Badcock’s chickens are dead. All of them. I got here and he’s running around, deranged, yelling about his dead chickens! I called the police and they’re on their way. Please, please, please pick up the phone!
At some point, I must’ve taken the phone from Jenn and stepped away, because I glanced up upon reading the messages for the third time, finding the phone in my hand and Jenn fixing her skirt.
“This is nuts.” Her big eyes searched mine imploringly. “Who could have done this?”
I shook my head, having not yet managed to fully shift head gears—you know, from that head to the one on my neck—and my gaze dropped to the wet patch on the front of her dress just visible in the swath of light. My erection throbbed.
So we’re . . . not having sex?
“Why? Why would they do it? And WHO?” She snatched her phone back, her tone bewildered, distracted, and distraught. She was distraught because of the dead chickens, like any normal person would be.
I was distraught also, but my distress had nothing to do with farm animals.
“We have to go.” Jenn grabbed my hand and began walking toward the direction of the hall. Meanwhile, it took me until her hand found the door handle to realize my zipper and belt were still undone.
“This is crazy.” She paused as I zipped up, her tone halting and distracted. “Poor Mr. Badcock. And those poor chickens.” A sound of distress escaped her throat. “This is terrible.”
It was terrible.
And I was going to hell.
Because all I could think was, Talk about a cock block.
Meet Penny Reid:
Penny Reid is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Selling Author of the Winston Brothers, Knitting in the City, Rugby, and Hypothesis series. She used to spend her days writing federal grant proposals as a biomedical researcher, but now she just writes books. She’s also a full time mom to three diminutive adults, wife, daughter, knitter, crocheter, sewer, general crafter, and thought ninja.
Romance Reviewed 