๐๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ด๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ-๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ,ย
๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ ๐ง๐ข๐ช๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ท๐ถ๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ต๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ต๐ข๐ช๐ญ.
ย
๐ ๐ฌ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ซ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฃ.
ย
๐๐ช๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฑ ๐๐ฐ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต.ย
๐๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฉ๐ฆโ๐ด ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ญ๐บ.
ย
๐ผ๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค ๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐ฃ ๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ฌ๐๐ง.
ย
Jill is a Texan, born and raised. She manages the hectic social calendars for her three active children and occasionally spends an evening with her dashing husband. Aside from being an author and a mom, she’s a travel junkie and loves to read when she is not lost in her own stories.
With Jillโs books, you can count on confident heroines, plenty of steamy tension, and deliciously assertive leading men. There are no guarantees in life, but with her books, you know everything will work out in the end. However, a perfect ending would not be nearly as satisfying without a seemingly insurmountable challenge. Jill loves to add plenty of adversity in her stories, creating unforgettably dynamic characters and sneaky plot twists you will never see coming.
ย







Logan Reynolds is a perfect gentleman, that is, until he gets on the pitch. All bets are off out there. When he sees the new owner, he never imagined she would be everything he ever wanted.
ย



ย


โEmi Hilton did it AGAIN! This sweet, second-chance romance is a beautiful addition to any romance reader’s collection.โ โโโโโ Author Fiona Keane

Dumped before her wedding, Emma wants to forget about her heartbreak, but her life falls into more shambles after a skiing accident.

ย
๐๐ถ๐จ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ’๐ด ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ง๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆโ๐ต๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฆ๐ด๐ค๐ข๐ฑ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ข๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ข๐จ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด, ๐ง๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ง๐ถ๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ. ๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บ’๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด. ๐๐ต ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ต, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต’๐ด ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง…๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ช๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ข ๐ง๐ช๐ฆ๐ณ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ด๐ต๐ณ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ด๐ข๐ญ๐ท๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ…๐ช๐ง ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ฆ’๐ด ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ.ย
๐๐๐ก๐ก ๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ง๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐ค๐ง ๐จ๐ช๐๐๐ช๐ข๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ง๐ ?ย
๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐บ ๐๐ญ๐ท๐ข๐ณ๐ข ๐ฐ๐ง ๐๐ณ๐ข๐บ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ข๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ช๐ญ๐บ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ง๐ข๐ค๐ฆ. ๐๐บ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ต ๐ฑ๐ถ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ. ๐ ๐ฆ๐ต, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฎ๐บ๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ฏ๐ฐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด. ๐๐ณ๐ข๐บ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ, ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ค๐ข๐จ๐ฐ…๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ช๐ต๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐งโ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ฏ’๐ต ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ฑ ๐ง๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ช๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ข๐ง๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ. ๐๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฐ.
๐๐’๐ก๐ก ๐ก๐๐ซ๐. ๐ฝ๐ช๐ฉ ๐ค๐ฃ๐ก๐ฎ ๐๐ ๐จ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ง๐จ๐ฉ.
ย
That all you got, Coach? August gained speed, fists unclenching at his sides as he poured himself into the sprint.ย
ย Our coven and friends gradually fell further behind, unmotivated by our silent competitionโฆ
ย Still, we pushed, farther, harder, faster, our shoes slapping against the pavement now, as mortal as could be.
ย First one back wins? I could feel his smile, although I didnโt dare a glance his way as I focused my burning eyes on the front awning of the Westerlundsโ building.ย
ย Winsโฆwhat exactly?
ย A round of truth or dare.
ย Child.
ย Itโs that or strip poker.
ย I snorted. I wouldnโt last long.
ย Donโt know how to play poker?ย
ย I met his cocky stare, trying to hide as I fought to keep my breathing even. Iโm just not wearing much under these clothes.
ย August cleared his throat, the sound tight, making it impossible to fight back my smile. โFuuuck,โ he growled.
ย Iโd been fooling myself, thinking I stood a chance.
ย
Sydne Barnett is a lover of spunky, badass heroines, and heroes that embrace their wild. She’s an avid reader, never turns down a good cup of coffee, loves hiking with her hubby, Joel, and lives for finding their next adventure.ย
ย
If she’s not writing, you can probably find her behind her camera, swimming, or curled up with a homemade pastry, watching Friends, HYMYM, or Gilmore Girls.
ย
Raised in the Treasure Valley, Idaho, Sydne has a love for one-light towns, and winding backroads. But refusing to ignore her soul’s call for adventure, she hit the road with her family, and now they call the world their home.
ย





ย
๐ ๐๐ก๐ฌ๐๐ฎ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ช๐๐๐ฉ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ฎ ๐ฌ๐ค๐ช๐ก๐ ๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐๐ฎ ๐ค๐ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ก๐๐๐.
ย
๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ธ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ.ย
ย
๐๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ช๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ช๐ค๐ฆ. ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ค๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐ข๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐ช๐ข๐จ๐ฆ.ย
ย
๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ ๐๐ณ๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ค๐ฉ๐ช๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ง๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ต. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ข๐บ, ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ญ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ฆ๐น๐ฑ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ, ๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ. ๐๐บ ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ญ๐ญ๐บ.ย
ย
๐๐ค๐ฌ ๐๐โ๐จ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ช๐จ๐๐๐ฃ๐.
ย
๐๐ถ๐ต ๐โ๐ฎ ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ณ๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ค๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ขรง๐ข๐ฅ๐ฆ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐บ ๐ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ธ ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ต๐ช๐ญ๐ญ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ, ๐ต๐ณ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ด ๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ช๐ญ๐ต ๐ข๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ต.ย
๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐โ๐ฎ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ด, ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ช๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฃ๐บ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ช๐ค๐ฌ.
ย
๐๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆโ๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฐ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐ช๐ข๐จ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐น๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ญ๐บ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ, ๐ธ๐ฆโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ.ย
๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐ค๐ง ๐ฌ๐ค๐ง๐จ๐โฆ
ย
โFuck it,โ I muttered, my voice barely audible, raised the covers, and in I went.
At first, I mirrored her posture, lying on my side without touching her. My pulse quickened, my mind coming up blank.
In, out. In, out.
The familiar repetition dissipated my anxiety. The longer I repeated it, the slower my heart beat. Soon, my breaths synchronized with those of Justine, our shoulders rising and falling in tandem. Only then did I move, draping my arm across her pink nightgown, sheathing her waist, scooting closer to her.
Hate would make you forget a lot of things. Itโd wipe out lazy afternoons of lying on the beach together. Itโd box and store away secret moments you glanced at the girl you loved while she gave imaginary classes to her dolls, while you were supposed to be reading finance articles. Itโd bury the time she caught you doing it and smiled at you as if she loved you too.
It could try to drown, by a small portion, the memory of how your love felt beneath your fingertips when you hugged her through days and nights, through tears and laughter in the intimate position youโd shared with no one ever since. It could try, but it would fail.
Because once reality kicked in, it didnโt stand a fucking chance.

Shani Haim has been a romantic at heart for as long as she can remember.
One of her greatest passions has always been reading, and she devoured anything that swept her away to faraway places.
From reading she made the transition to writing, falling in love with her flawed, broken and full of soul characters one happily-ever-after at a time.
When she’s not swooning over book boyfriends, she’s practicing yoga, drinking unhealthy amount of coffee, or watching Netflix with her husband in their Tel Aviv home.
