New Release ~ Seth ~ by ~ Kathryn Shay

Title: Seth

Series: The Casella Cousins
Author: Kathryn Shay
Genre: Contemporary Romance Novella
Release Date: July 22, 2020

 

He took her for granted in their young life together but now he wants her back. She’s having none of his pleas for a second chance, not after he broke her heart in a million different ways.
Legal Aid Attorney Seth Casella is a truly good guy. Or so everybody thinks. But he’s got a darker side, one that surfaced when he repeatedly betrayed his former girlfriend, Julianne. He tells her he’s changed, but she doesn’t buy it.
Music therapist Julianne Ford is sick of being the forgiving, good girl next door. Not only does she reject Seth’s overtures—again!—but she’s taking her own walk on the wild side now, and she likes it. Most of the world sees them as defenders of the poor and neglected, and they are, but together they just can’t get it right.
A heart-breaking legal aid case for Seth and the challenge of helping her dysfunctional students using her beloved music backdrop complicate their search for the way back to each other and a reunion that will last forever.
Don’t miss all The Casella Cousins Books: Hayley, Seth, Finn, Alessia, Gideon and Ronan from the NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author Kathryn Shay.

 

 

 

Chapter 1 

“Thanks, Mama.” Seth Casella squeezed his mother’s hand. “Another great breakfast.”

Carmella smiled. “I’ll miss these meals with you when you go back to your own place.” 

Seth had stayed at his mother’s house to recover from a stabbing at Legal Aid by the disgruntled husband of a client, but he was healing well.

“I’ll miss them, too. I’m going to try not to work so much this time around and come to dinner when you’ll have me.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Neither had heard the woman come in through the garage and enter the kitchen until she spoke.

Seth swallowed hard. Julianne Ford been visiting every day since his sojourn here. And her appearances were just about killing him. “Hi, Julianne.”

“Good morning, Seth.” A frown marred her brow. “How much longer are you going to be at your mom’s house?”

“I’m going home soon.”

Mama stood and hugged her. The two women had gotten close, even though Seth had blown his and Jules’ relationship more than one time—and now, for good.

“Hello, dear.” When Julianne sat at the table, they chatted some, then Mama asked, “Did you talk to Celia yesterday?” Celia Ford and Seth’s mother had been friends for decades and raised their families together.

“Yeah, Mom’s loving the hot weather in Florida. She said to say hi and she’ll call you soon.” 

Seth stood. “Want some coffee?”

“Um, sure.” She addressed his mother. “Actually, I came over to ask you to go out to dinner, Carmella.” 

“Not tonight, sweetie. I’m watching Tommy.” Seth’s oldest brother’s son. 

“Some other time, then.” 

Carmella’s phone rang. Her face brightened “I-I have to take this. I’m expecting a call. I’ll be back, darlings.”

His mother left, and Seth poured coffee in a cup labeled Julianne’s Mug. His hands were shaking, damn it, as he hadn’t quite recovered. Or was it Julianne’s proximity? “Here you are.”

She angled her chin to where his mom had gone. Her blond hair fell in one sweep at her shoulders and some slid over her forehead. “Think she has the power to make her phone ring?”

“No, she was waiting to hear from Rafe. I knew the call was coming.”

“Ah.” She studied him over the rim of her mug. He wanted to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear. “So, are you feeling better?”

“Physically, yes. I’m still not up to par, though.” He hesitated. Might as well tell the truth. “But I miss you, Julianne. Seeing you every day these two weeks makes me feel worse about our breakup.”

Her blue eyes darkened. The two of them pretty much had the same coloring. “For the record, our contact has made me feel bad about us, too.” 

They’d grown up together. Playmates until junior high where they became friends, though it got awkward sometimes, like when they shared their first kiss. But in high school, they started going steady, and were a couple in college until they graduated. They’d stayed together when she went to Julliard for a master’s degree and he attended law school. How could she not miss him?

“So, how’s work going?” he asked to break the awkward silence.

Julianne had her own music therapy studio and was practically a violin virtuoso in her own right.

“Same as always. I still love teaching. Helping kids through music.”

“How’s Jordan?”

She smirked. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He’s fine. We see each other almost every day.”

“Funny, I haven’t noticed his car in your driveway that much.”

“Keeping tabs on me?”

Instead of answering, he asked, “So, it’s gotten serious?”

“Maybe.” She shook her head.

“What?”

“You’re like a dog with a bone, Casella. You break my heart by sleeping with other women, then we split, but you can’t stand to see me with another man.”

“I’ve always felt that way. Remember Colin Camp in high school? Jack Carroll in college? Watching you with them was torture.”

“Yet you slept with one Sandy Baker junior year. And a teacher, for God’s sake, in college. More after that. You’re a serial adulterer.”

“I thought you had to be married to commit adultery.” 

The joke fell flat.

She scraped back her chair. “You know exactly what I mean. Tell your mother that I’ll come back tomorrow.” Setting down her coffee with a thump, she stood and headed for the garage door.

Seth caught up with her in the mudroom. “Wait.”

Her back to him, she shook her head. But she’d stopped.

He moved in close so his body nearly aligned with hers. “Can’t we try again?”

She whirled on him then. Her face flushed and her eyes glittered. But not because she was turned on. Anger burned in her from head to toe. “You have to be kidding me! I finally got out from under my love for you. Do you honestly think I’d ever take you back?”

Stung, he leaned against the wall, insolently. “You have before.”

The slap came hard on his face. “Go to hell, Seth.” And she stormed out.

He rubbed his cheek. Everybody in his family thought he was the nice one, the giving and forgiving one. But they were wrong. At least where Julianne Ford was concerned. 

With her, he’d been a real bastard.

#

Julianne strode into the house she’d lived in all her life. Two years ago, she’d bought it from her mother when Celia went to Florida to move in with her sister.

Jules didn’t slam the door, though. She didn’t stomp her feet. But above all, she didn’t cry. Years ago, she’d promised herself she would never cry over Seth Casella again. Three months ago, she’d even made up a steady boyfriend, Jordan, so Seth would leave her alone. The ruse made her feel foolish but she had to protect herself.

She was dating, though. She picked up her cell phone from the counter, checked her texts and punched in a number. 

He answered. “Hey, there, Julianne. You said you couldn’t get together tonight.”

“Yeah, my plans got aborted.” She’d hope to spend time with Carmella, without Seth hovering around them.

“Then are you free to meet?”

“Yes. How about The Hidden Cove Inn for cocktails at six?”

“Great. See you then. I’ll be the one with the big smile.”

She disconnected and looked out at the back lawn, not as big as the Casella’s but beautifully landscaped with bushes and trees. She and her mother had planted flowers which bloomed all summer, and now, at the very end of August, the geraniums and impatiens were even bigger and fuller than before. And on the deck, she’d put multi-colored ones in pots. The view soothed her. 

But with the calm came sadness. As if in a trance, she climbed up the stairs, crossed into the closet and pulled out an album. Sat the big square brown leather book on her bed. The insert on the front read, Happily Ever After.

As if.

The first page depicted her and Seth as babies, with both their moms. Then preschool, entering the building holding hands. 

The next was a play, where she was Cinderella and he was the Prince. He was the always the good guy. She leafed through the elementary grades and junior high, and finally the prom pictures for eleventh grade. 

She’d been so happy that night. They’d talked about sleeping together afterward so she’d put on her best underwear, used some of her mother’s perfume and smoothed down the as-sexy-a- dress as her parents would allow. She and Seth had danced the night away, totally in love. Or so she thought. At the end of the prom, he’d gone to get the car, and when he didn’t show up by the time he should have, she went to look for him.

And found him kissing the daylights out of Sandy Baker, who’d attended with a group of girls…

Suddenly, Julianne came out of the Seth-spell and said, “What the hell am I doing?”

Damn, damn, damn. It was what she did when memories of them got to her. When he got to her. She rolled to her feet, spread the album on the bed, and proceeded to viciously rip out the pages. Then she tore each of them into pieces. 

She’d wouldn’t wallow like this again. After disposing of the mess, she crossed to her closet and picked out a dress to wear tonight. Thinking about someone else was just what she needed.

#

Seth waited for his supervisor from work to arrive. He hated having to put her out, but his doctor forbade him to drive for another week and she offered to come here to talk to him in person.

He was going stir crazy.

The doorbell rang at four. He crossed to the foyer and let Ellen Danner in. They weren’t close friends but he liked her. About forty-five, married with two kids, she was tall and attractive. “Hey, Seth. You look better than I expected you to.”

“Thanks. Following doctor’s orders.”

“As if you’d ever do any harm to yourself or others.”

Having been hurt by Julianne’s remarks, he enjoyed Ellen’s view of him. They took seats on the sofa in the adjacent living room and made small talk for a few minutes. Then, Ellen gestured to the bag she placed in front of her. “So, we’ve got a backlog,” 

“What else is new?”

“This time it’s serious.”

He frowned. “Because I’ve been out?”

“Partly, but in any case, we need more counselors and we still can’t get the funding for them.” The plight of social organizations that helped the poor.

“Can I do anything from home?”

“Yes, if it won’t tax your recovery.”

“Please, I’m going nuts.”

“That’s what you said on the phone. You’ve been with us a long time so I trust you with this. I brought a stack of case files. I was thinking you could go through them and prioritize them.”

“You mean rank the applicants’ misery.”

“I see it that way, too. If you don’t want this distasteful job, it’s okay.”

“No, I’ll try to be objective.” Not his strong suit, though.

“You’ll have to set up phone interviews. You’re still getting paid because your…injury happened at Legal Aid.” Her eyes clouded. “I’m so sorry for that. I know I told you that before, but I am.”

He squeezed her arm. “Ellen, I’m doing fine. It was no one’s fault but Malone’s.” The guy who stabbed him. “Did you get an alarm system put in?”

“Yeah. Of all things. We received an anonymous donation for it.”

“Where from?”

“New York City. I have no idea why. We got a cashier’s check and a note telling us to use it for security.”

That seemed like Hayley’s hand. He’d ask her point blank.

“So, you’ll do this, Seth?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Let me know when you’ve decided on the first five we’ll take. That’s all we can handle now. And thanks. I’m glad you didn’t quit.”

“What for?” His hand went to his stomach. “A little cut like this?” 

“Your injury was a lot more than that. You’re a good guy, not bitter about what happened to you.”

“That’s what they keep telling me.”



Julianne showered and dressed for her date in a calf-length deep peach skirt and matching T-shirt. But before she left, she went to a closet and fished out the journals from over the years in case she needed to remember something tonight. 

She kept a record of her online dates from a service called RightMatch.com. Everybody told her these sites could be dangerous, but she didn’t want to date a colleague and she didn’t socialize much. She used to have Seth’s family in her life and that was enough. Besides, she knew a lot of people who’d met their soulmates through the internet.

You already met your soulmate.

Stop it, Julianne. 

She opened the book. And looked back.

Two years ago: Tristan Long, tall, blonde, handsome, a lawyer in Hidden Cove, nice guy. The relationship lasted six months, but they didn’t have a lot in common. 

Eighteen months ago: Mitch Preston, dark eyes, dark hair, a middle school music teacher, sweet. Too sweet, as it turned out. She’d written: Why can’t I fall for somebody like this? 

A year ago: Carlo Monti, very Italian, she’d liked his possessiveness at first. Then he became overly controlling. Too bad, because the chemistry was great. He’d been the first guy she’d slept with since than Seth. 

Six months ago: Drew Anderson, friendly, average guy, solicitous lover. But he was a sports fanatic, and all he wanted to talk or go see were sporting events. 

There were two more, but she closed the book. Her online life had not been fruitful.

Maybe tonight would be better. 

With still a half hour to go, her phone buzzed. Her sister, Liliana. Julianne clicked into FaceTime. 

“Hey, sis, just checking to see how you are.” Liliana was dressed in a navy suit with a white blouse. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a bun, which accented her high cheek bones. 

“Hi, Lil.” 

“Do you have time to talk?”

“Yeah. You still at work?”

Liliana was and undersecretary to the governor of D.C. She had ambitions and immersed herself in Washington politics. “Yeah, no rest for the weary.”

“Do you do anything outside of work?”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I go out.”

“That why you’re dressed up?”

“Uh-huh, I’m meeting a friend for drinks.”

She heard commotion, then said, “Hold on a sec.” From a distance, Liliana asked, “Do you need something, Mark?” A mumbling. Then, “Sorry Jules, I have to go. It thought I had time to chat, given the hour, but duty calls.”

“Don’t worry about it, we chat more soon.”

She and Liliana used to be best friends, growing up only a year apart, sharing all of their experiences, but had had grown apart in the last ten years. She was never a Seth fan, so that caused division, too. All that made Julianne sad tonight.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked into the Hidden Cove Inn, then entered the restaurant. Several people were sitting at the bar. One turned. And smiled. That must be Jason Zyzeri. He slid off the stool and walked toward her. He was tall and well-built, but not pumped. His hair was dark and his eyes light brown, she could see when he got closer.

“Julianne?”

“Yeah. Jason, right?”

“Yes.” He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He looked around. “Let’s get a table.” He motioned to one then allowed her to go first. 

When they were seated, a waitress approached them. “I’ve got a drink,” he said to her. “Julianne?”

“I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

“So,” he asked when the woman left, “What do you want to know about me?”

“Well, I know you like old movies, you work at a computer firm in Camden Cove, and that you have a dog you love.”

“That’s on my profile. What else?”

She’d given this some thought. “What makes you happy, Jason?”

“Long walks in the park.”

Her face blanked. 

“Gotcha, there.”

She laughed at the cliché. A sense of humor in a guy was a good thing. 

“I like riding my bike in the morning. I love Italian food, red wine—” he held up his glass to prove it. “And I want a family. I didn’t put that down, so if you don’t, we can enjoy our drinks and part on friendly terms.”

“I want a family. I didn’t put that down either because the notion scares men away.”

“Yeah, parenting isn’t for sissies. I know that term isn’t PC, but it fits the bill.”

“Do you have any kids?”

His eyes crinkled. “A hoard of nieces and nephews.” 

“Ah.”

“Do you have any? Kids or other little ones in your life?”

“No. There’s only my sister and me. She has no children either.”

When Alessia, Seth’s sister, had been in her life, she her adorable nephews to spoil.

They traded more likes and dislikes, and at the end of the hour Julianne had set for herself, she reached down and picked up her purse. “Thanks for meeting me tonight. I enjoyed your company. I hope you felt the same.”

His eyes widened. “Do you have to leave now?”

“I’m afraid so.” She stood. “I have a strict rule for first online dates.”

“Have you had many?”

“No. You?”

“You’re my first.”

“I’m honored. I’ll be in touch.”

“I hope so, Julianne.”

“Thanks. Good night, Jason.

What she didn’t see as she walked away was Jason’s hand fist, the dark scowl on his face. Nor did she hear the mumble arrogant bitch come from his mouth.
A NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author, Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has written dozens of self-published original romance titles, print books with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises and mainstream women’s fiction with Bold Strokes Books. She has won many awards for her work: five RT Book Reviews awards, the Bookseller’s Best Award, Foreword Magazine’s Book of the Year and several “Starred Reviews.” One of her firefighter books hit #20 on the NEW YORK TIMES list. Her novels have been serialized in COSMOPOLITAN magazine and featured in USA TODAY, THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and PEOPLE magazine. There are over ten million copies of her books in print and downloaded online. Reviewers have called her work “emotional and heart-wrenching.”
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New Release ~ Play the Hand You Were Dealt ~ by ~ M. Jay Granberry

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There is a new player in the Naked City, and I want it all.

The money.

The casinos.

The power that so few can handle and even less deserve.

There are obstacles.

Rules of engagement that limit my action and shorten my reach.

But the fates have been shuffled and the cards now dealt.

It is time to begin.

One treacherous game. Seven reluctant players. Destiny will crown one.

And luck will destroy the others.

Let’s play.

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Think Devyn. What did you miss? What did you miss?

What…Did…You…Miss?

Nothing…I’ve missed…nothing. I force myself to go over the list again.

Players identified…check.

Dossiers on each player complete…check.

Strengths identified…check.

Weaknesses magnified…check.

Invitations constructed and ready to be sent…check, check, check.

I’ve put in the work. Constructed a flawless game that will end with my man at the top of the heap, and I swear to God should he fall I will raze this fucking city to the ground and every person in it will burn.

Deep breath Devyn. Deep…breath.

You’ve checked all boxes. Breathe easy.

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M_Jay_Granberry_Facebook_CoverM. Jay Granberry is first and foremost an insatiable reader.

Among her favorite things are classic fairy tales, smutty books where characters have heart, old lady sweaters (preferably chunky knit), gift baskets (giving not receiving), and charcuterie trays (green olives, smoked cheese, and Genoa salami).

She is a true Las Vegas native, the one in Nevada not New Mexico, and to answer the most frequently asked questions about growing up in Sin City…

  • No, she doesn’t live in a hotel.
  • No, she has never been a stripper although she does know some.
  • Prostitution is absolutely illegal in Clark County (Las Vegas)!

And what happens in Vegas does indeed stay in Vegas.

M. Jay earned a degree in words and stories, and after fifteen plus years of doing everything other than writing, she penned her first novel.

Giving a voice to characters, that are strong yet fragile, that are sometimes uncomfortably real, that express love in dirtiest ways with the sweetest sentiments is honestly a dream come true.

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New Release ~ A Date for the Derby ~ by ~ Heidi McLaughlin & LP Dover


Title: A Date for the Derby
Series: The Dating Series
Authors: Heidi McLaughlin & LP Dover 
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 21, 2020

 

 

 

New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Heidi McLaughlin and L.P. Dover come together for a sexy new series that delivers romance for every season!
For Brielle Armstrong the pomp and circumstance of the days leading up to the Kentucky Derby are truly the most thrilling time of the year. Press junkets, designer gowns, everyone schmoozing her in hopes of getting in her daddy’s good graces. What’s not to love?
But this year, her heart is racing with anticipation to see Colby Hensley. As a former trainer of her family’s champion horses, his rugged sex appeal has always filled Brielle’s mind with naughty thoughts of a little barebacked fun.
Even though Colby walked away from their farm, her father Butch, would never approve of him. But what daddy doesn’t know can’t hurt him. If their secret comes out, it could cost Brielle everything. Still, what fun is life if you don’t ride it at a gallop?
Grab your riding crop, and place your bets. It’s Derby Day!

 

 

“What happened with Colby, Brielle?” 

Groaning, I close my eyes. “Everything. The man drives me insane.” 

“But yet, you still love him.” The breath catches in my lungs and I can feel the burn behind my eyes. When I open them, William can see right through me. He cups my face in his hands. “You need to just tell him how you feel and get it over with. Keeping all this anger inside of you isn’t healthy.” 

I scoff. “No, but it feels good to hate him. Makes him leaving not hurt as bad.” 

He shakes his head. “That’s a lie and you know it. Where is he right now?” 

There’s only one place I know he’ll be. “Probably at the stables.” 

“Then go,” he says, nodding toward the door. “I’ll handle your father if he asks where you’re at.” He brushes off his shoulders. “He loves me.” Which is true, my father does like him and has told me plenty of times that he wants us together. William has a charisma about him that everyone seems to be attracted to. William pulls me over to the door. “Go. I got this.” 

My heart beats uncontrollably and I know it’s now or never. “Thanks, Will. I love you for this.” 

He winks. “I know. When you get back, I want to hear everything.” 

There’s no way I can go to the stables in my dress, so I rush up the stairs while William sneaks back through the secret door. I quickly change into a pair of jeans, my boots, and a dark T-shirt. The last thing I want is someone recognizing me. There’s already a hat in my car I can use. Now all I have to do is get down to my car unnoticed. I sneak down the staircase and through the secret door. Once I’m out the back door of the kitchen, I sprint across the yard to my car. 

Luckily, I get away without anyone seeing me. Over the years, I had to learn to be stealth, especially with keeping mine and Colby’s relationship a secret. It doesn’t take long to get to the stables, and when I pull into the parking lot, Colby’s truck is there. I knew it. I grab my baseball cap and slip it on. 

It’s dark, but I can see the lights in the stables up ahead. My chest hurts from my heart pounding so achingly hard. Do I really want to confront him again? Yes and no. My goal was to make him think I didn’t give a shit that he left. I’m failing miserably. The more I keep things bottled up, the worse I feel. I can’t stand feeling like this anymore. 

I storm into the stables and that’s when I see him with Maximus. He’s already changed out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a snug T-shirt that hugs his perfectly sculpted biceps. I remember what it was like to be held in those arms. My gut clenches and I hide in one of the empty stalls. Colby rubs a hand down the midnight-colored stallion’s back with such tenderness. If only he knew how to treat women that way. I’m not a damsel in distress kind of woman, but dammit to hell, if he didn’t break my heart. 

Groaning silently, I crouch down inside the stall. It was a mistake to come here. Now I only hope he didn’t see me. I peek through one of the cracks in the wood. Colby takes off his shirt and crams it into his back pocket. 

“I know you’re there, Bri,” he calls out, running his hands down Maximus’ mane.  

“Dammit,” I hiss, clenching my fists tight. 

“Don’t you think it’s time we talked? You can’t hide from me forever.” His footsteps grow closer, and I freeze, hoping he’ll walk past. I slide down into the corner and hold my breath as he walks by. “I want to say I’m sorry. There’s so much I have to say.” 

“Just drive the wedge in even harder, asshole,” I mumble to myself. 

“I need you to come out and talk to me. I can make you if I have to, which might be kind of fun for me. You don’t want me to enjoy this, do you?” What I really want to do is smack him on the head. “Brielle?” His voice grows farther away until I hear his footsteps leave the stables. If I run out the other side, I might be able to get back to my car without him seeing me. Taking a deep breath, I slowly get to my feet and glance over the stall; the coast is clear. 

The wooden door of the stall creaks and I freeze. Shit. I hold my breath and listen, but there are no footsteps approaching. As quietly as I can, I tiptoe my way to the back entrance of the stables and turn the corner, only to run right into him. He reaches for my hand, but I jerk away from him. 

“You didn’t think you fooled me back there, did you?” He stares right into my eyes, but I refuse to give in. 

“Screw you,” I hiss, turning on my heel. I march off but he follows close behind. “I have nothing to say to you.” 

“Well, too bad. I have a shit-ton to say to you. Now stop being a brat and give me one minute.” 

Sucking in a breath, I freeze. Did he really just call me a brat? Gritting my teeth, I face him head on. I half expect him to smirk, but there’s nothing but seriousness in his stormy electric blue gaze. 

“All right, this ends now,” I snap, pushing on his chest. He steps back, his jaw clenched tight. “Call me a brat if you want, but I’m pissed and embarrassed. How the hell am I supposed to feel after I gave you my heart and you left? No explanations … nothing. All my father said was that you were done working with us.” Tears fill my eyes, and I hate myself for letting him see my pain. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me you didn’t want to be with me anymore.” Huffing, I turn and march out of the stables. “Now I just feel like an idiot. So, by all means, make me sit down and hear all the reasons why you don’t want to be with me. Go ahead and call me childish, a brat, or whatever you like. I don’t care anymore,” I say, waving my arms in the air. “At least I wasn’t afraid to let you in.” 

My heart thunders in my chest. It felt good to scream out my feelings, but now they are no longer mine. Never have I ever let anyone see the vulnerable side of me. 

Out of nowhere, a lasso is thrown around my body. I scream when the rope bites into my skin, burning as Colby tightens it. I struggled to break free, but it’s so tight, even my hands start to tingle. I try to stand my ground, but the harder he pulls, the tighter it gets. 

“Dammit, Colby. Let me go! I can’t feel my hands.” I have no choice but to willingly move my feet. If I don’t, he’ll drag me across the ground through the dirt. My dignity is more important. 

“You shouldn’t have walked away,” he growls, his voice by my ear. He jerks me around and pushes me into one of the empty stalls. I turn my face away, but he grabs my chin. “I don’t think so, princess. You’re going to look at me when I say this. Do you want me to tie your hands and feet together too?” 

I have no doubt he’ll do it. “Fine,” I huff, lifting my glare to his. “What do you want?” 

His lips close over mine, hard and raw as he forces his tongue inside. I try to fight him off, but it’s a half-ass attempt. Who am I kidding? I don’t want him to stop. Not to mention, I can’t move. I’m at his mercy, and I like it. He pushes me into the wall, rubbing his arousal against me. Moaning, I bite his lip and he pulls away. 

“You.”
Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers.
 
Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs.
 
In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl.
 
When writing isn’t occupying her time, you can find her sitting courtside at either of her daughters’ basketball games.
 
Heidi’s first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018.

 


New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Everything’s sweeter in the South has always been her mantra and she lives by it, whether it’s with her writing or in her everyday life. Maybe that’s why she’s seriously addicted to chocolate.
 
Dover has written countless novels in several different genres, including a children’s book with her daughter. Her favorite to write is romantic suspense, but she’s also found a passion in romantic comedy. She loves to make people laugh which is why you’ll never see her without a smile on her face.

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New Release ~ Chasing Charli ~ by ~ Kat Mizera


Resisting her may be his toughest test of all…

Chasing Charli by Kat Mizera is available now!Amazon — https://amzn.to/2BDI2zK
Universal — getbook.at/ChasingCharli
Apple — https://apple.co/2A7iHhq
Nook — https://bit.ly/2NtUtRp
Kobo — https://bit.ly/2Yz7MGC

Resisting her may be his toughest test of all…Finnish hockey star Miikka Laasonen may seem to live a charmed life, but the reality is that he’s lonely. His struggle with learning the English language makes it hard for him to fit in and to make matters worse, his Finnish girlfriend tires of their long-distance relationship and dumps him.

Kindergarten teacher Charlotte “Charli” Bartosiewicz made a life-changing decision in her teens, and she’s battled guilt and regret ever since. She punishes herself by refusing to date and staying to herself because she doesn’t feel worthy of love.

When introduced by a mutual friend, Miikka recognizes another lonely soul in Charli, but there’s more to it than that, something he’s never felt before. He convinces her to take a chance on him by tutoring him in English, but he really wants her to take a chance on love.

Miikka is determined to convince Charli that she’s worthy of him. But even if he does, will their love be strong enough to go the distance?

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Kat Mizera is a South Florida native. Born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of wanderlust, she’s called Los Angeles, Long Island, upstate New York, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Atlanta home. She’s never been able to pick which locale is her favorite, but if pressed, she’d probably choose the west coast.

A typical PTA mom with a wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max), Kat can usually be found scrapbooking or indulging in her second love (after writing) – traveling. Greece is one of her favorite places in the world. She loves that Athens is a big city with a small-town feel. The food, beaches and culture keep her going back as often as possible.

Kat’s been a working freelance writer for nearly 30 years. She sold her first article–a review of a rock concert–for $10 in 1985. Since then she’s been an entertainment journalist, waitress, bartender, legal assistant, food critic, magazine editor, substitute teacher, and sports writer. She also spent some time working at A & M Records in Los Angeles.

As you can guess from her Las Vegas Sidewinders series, Kat loves hockey and occasionally writes articles about her favorite team, the Florida Panthers. The rest of the time, she writes novels: sexy, romantic fiction that she hopes makes you as happy as it makes her. There’s something enticing about hockey players and romance…

Connect with Kat:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorkatmizera/
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2lzRBG6
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorKatMiz
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2li6zRe
Website: http://www.katmizera.com

New Release ~ The Trouble With Wanting ~ by ~ Jillian Liota

Today we have the release day blitz for The Trouble With Wanting by Jillian Liota! Check it out and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: THE TROUBLE WITH WANTING

Author: Jillian Liota

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About The Trouble With Wanting:

Ruby Roberts is heading to Cedar Point to connect with the father who left her behind. Easy conversation with the handsome man sitting next to her isn’t what she’s expecting from her cross-country flight, but it’s not something she’s complaining about, that’s for sure.

Boyd Mitchell is flying home for some end-of-summer relaxation and time with his favorite people – his family. A talkative seat-mate that pulls him out of his shell is the last thing he wants, but he can’t seem to resist her charm.

 

When Boyd and Ruby end up in the same lakeside town, their banter and flirtation quickly become a steamy fling that leaves them both breathless. Neither of them are expecting to find a romance that has them both reconsidering everything they used to believe about love.

As their time in Cedar Point comes to an end, the two will have to decide whether they want their connection to turn into a real-world relationship, or whether wanting more is nothing but trouble.

Get Your Copy Today:

Amazon

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

“Sorry for rambling,” I say, giving him another smile. “It’s way too early in the morning to be debating something so highbrow. So, how ’bout them Sox, huh?”

Boyd looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes, a kind of friendly charm I wasn’t expecting from him, regardless of how well we got on with our chat.

What I wouldn’t give to look at that kind of handsome joy every day for the rest of my life.

A stupid thought, sure, but still true.

“I bet you ten dollars you can’t name a single player on the team this year.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to hide my smile as I shake my head. “I’m not a gambling girl.”

“You’d gamble if you knew you were probably going to win.” His response is as quick as lightning. “People only choose not to gamble when they’re afraid they’ll lose.”

“That is so not true.” I giggle. “Some of us poor folk don’t gamble because we can’t take the risk. Not all of us are first class aficionados with money to throw around willy-nilly.”

“Nobody says willy-nilly anymore.”

I snort. “Clearly that’s false, because I just did.”

He bites his lip and shakes his head, and I can’t help the little thing that keeps bouncing around in my chest.

We like him, it tells me. We like him a lot.

Is this flirting? We are definitely flirting, right? I hope so, because it has been far too long since I’ve enjoyed a good flirt sesh with someone as handsome as Boyd.

That’s a lie.

I’ve never flirted with someone as handsome as Boyd. He is in a league of his own.

Before I can say anything else, the plane lurches forward, and it feels like my stomach is going to fall out of my body.

My eyes slam shut and my throat closes up, my hands gripping the armrests for dear life as the plane barrels down the runway, all the good feelings from my talk with Boyd rushing out of me with a surreal quickness.

It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay.

I’m like that for who knows how long before I feel a hand on top of mine, the warmth and roughness surprising me enough that my eyes fly open, taking in the man sitting next to me.

He lifts my hand and twists his fingers in mine, the sensation robbing me of my voice—and maybe my sanity.

For the rest of my life, I’ll remember exactly what he says to me. Not just the words, but the soothing tone of his voice and the earnest caring in his eyes, so surprising from someone I was expecting to ignore me for the entire flight.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” he says. “I can’t take that feeling away from you, but I can hold your hand until it’s over so you know you’re not alone.”

 

About Jillian Liota:

Jillian Liota is a new author writing contemporary romance and new adult fiction. She lives in Kailua, Hawaii with her amazing husband, 2 cats, and 3-legged pup.

She is the author of the new adult romance novel The Keeper, which focuses on a female college soccer goalie, as well as the follow up novella, Keep Away. Her newest release, Like You Mean It, is in the contemporary romance genre and has a more mature voice, as it follows a pregnant mother finding love in a new town. The next novel in the Like You Series, Like You Want It, will be published in Spring 2019

She has a master’s in Higher Education and Student Affairs, and she is passionate about all things improvement, development and organization.

She’s also a big fan of taking walks with her husband and dog Maia, reading romance (obviously), watching a handful of horrible reality TV shows, and exploring the island she calls home. Check out her Contact page for more information on how to connect.

Connect with Jillian:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Email

 

 

New Release & Review ~ Tough Luck ~ by ~ Elizabeth SaFleur

Tough Luck
Shakedown Series (#1) by Elizabeth SaFleur
 
Second chance, redemption/atonement, steamy contemporary romance with mobster/mafia and romantic suspense undertones
Nathan, fresh out of prison, falls hard for burlesque dancer Midnight Starr. When the family whose son he accidentally killed many years ago paints a target on his back, he’ll have to give her up. Starr, however, isn’t one to give up easily.
 
ADD TO YOUR TBR: Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3dAKnJu

#ToughLuck #Romance #NewRelease
 
 
Blurb:
 
Ex-con Nathan came to Shakedown to start over, not fall hard for one of their burlesque dancers, Midnight Starr. But who could resist such a woman? She was light and fire and everything good about the world.
But he will fight that thudding desire for her. He has to. The MacKenna family, whose son he accidentally killed many years ago, has drawn a target on his back and he won’t drag her into his mess.
Starr, however, isn’t one to give up easily. When she wants someone, she’s all in.
She has no idea what she’s in for.
BUY TOUGH LUCK
 
GIVEAWAY
 
$25 Card of choice (see options below) and a Tiffany Necklace. TWO winners (First Prize Tiffany Necklace, Second Prize $25 Gift Card) 
Enter Here: https://forms.gle/X45Unhig44Lw9m5j7
 
 
 
TBRreview

Work got in the way from reading this whole thing front to back immediately. Which was horrible because this book was so jam-packed (but not overly so), I would have loved to read it all in 1 sitting.

Starr (which I love her stage name) is one in a set of burlesque dancing triplets at a club. Which I used to take pole dancing for exercise and I have MAD respect for burlesque dancers. My thighs still cry LOL. Phoenix and Luna (also stage names) are her sisters and you have never met a closer bunch. They might argue but they have each other’s back 100%.

And Nathan. Oh Nathan. I loved that he was an ex-con who really wanted to love Starr but didn’t want to taint her with all the darkness surrounding him. But Starr isn’t a typical woman and she is NOT going to let Nathan chase her off, even with everything going against them.

I cannot wait to read Phoenix and Luna’s stories and how they get their happy endings (I hope!)

5 stars!

MEET ELIZABETH SAFLEUR
Elizabeth SaFleur (elizabethsafleur.com) writes award-winning romance that dares to “go there” from 28 wildlife-filled acres, which she shares with her husband and one very spoiled Westie. When not immersed in books she can be found dancing or drinking good Virginia wine—not necessarily in that order. Find out more about Elizabeth on her web site (www.ElizabethSaFleur.com) or join her private Facebook group, Elizabeth’s Playroom.
 
Love Links:
News From Elizabeth (newsletter) http://eepurl.com/WK5EH
Facebook: http://bit.ly/30pJVI2
Elizabeth’s Playroom: http://tinyurl.com/ElizabethPlayroom
Instagram: elizabethlovestory at http://bit.ly/2KLWSX5
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/ElizabethBooks
Twitter: @ElizaLoveStory https://twitter.com/ElizaLoveStory
 
 

 

New Release ~ T-Bone ~ by ~ L. Wilder

Title: T-Bone 

Series: Satan’s Fury MC – Memphis
Author: L. Wilder
Genre: Romance Suspense
Release Date: July 16, 2020

Over the years I’d been with my share of women. Hell, I’d had more than I could count, but for one reason or another, it never seemed to last. I’d told myself that I just hadn’t found the one, and I was okay with that. I had the club, and with my brothers at my side, I had everything I needed—or so I thought. 
 
Alyssa was young, smoking hot, and had the world at her fingertips. I knew better than to even give her a second look. I was too old, lived a life that wasn’t suited for a woman like her, and as if that wasn’t enough, she was Hyde’s younger sister. 
 
I told myself we were just friends, but in a heated moment, we crossed a line—a line I knew should’ve never been crossed. I knew then that one night would never be enough. There’d be consequences, but I honestly didn’t care.
 
It wasn’t until I lost her that I realized that it wasn’t about finding the one. It was about being the one. If she’d give me the chance, I’d be that for her and more—even if it meant giving up everything to have her.

 

 

Goodreads Review – “Oh my! This book tugged at my heartstrings so many times.”

 

 

 

 

 

Goodreads Review – “This story had passion, secrecy, drama, action. This is my favorite chapter to the Satans Fury MC and gotta say, my new favorite book by the author!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Goodreads Review – “L Wilder has done it again, she has wrote a Great book, which flows so smoothly and freely, you get lost into the world of Satan’s Fury MC.”

 

Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Seller, L. Wilder, writes about hot, alpha men and the women who love them. She currently has six series available for readers: The Devil Chaser’s MC, Satan’s Fury MC, Satan’s Fury MC-Memphis, the Redemption Series, the Happy Endings Collection, and the Ruthless Sinners MC. If you’re looking for a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat and have you smiling like a school girl at the end, L. Wilder is the author for you.
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New Release ~ Taming Tori ~ by ~ Amelia Smarts

Taming Tori by Amelia Smarts is available now!
Universal — getbook.at/TamingTori
FREE with Kindle Unlimited

He’s prepared to tame her using painful and humiliating discipline.

Fearless, tough-as-nails cowboy Frank Bassett gets thrown from a bucking bronco and injures his leg, leaving him with a severe limp. Not to be defeated, he moves to a new town with plans for a slower-paced life. There he meets a woman more defiant and standoffish than the wildest mustang, and he reckons he’s got one more filly to tame before tossing his Stetson aside.

Local beauty Victoria Davis longs for a worthy gentleman to court her. Instead, a crippled cowboy limps into her shop and scolds her for being rude. Though outraged, she’s also intrigued by the submissive feelings he inspires in her.
Victoria learns that Frank is as kind and generous as he is tough, and love blooms. But when a stroke of misfortune once again befalls the cowboy, their feelings for each other are tested. Was Frank’s quest to tame Tori a foolish venture, or will it pave a path to healing for them both?

Publisher’s Note: Taming Tori contains sexual scenes and adult punishment spanking. If that doesn’t appeal to you, please don’t buy this book.

Excerpt:

“The time is right, Frank,” she whispered. “I want to make love to you.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Her robe hung loosely around her body, requiring only a tug to render her naked. A full moon streamed light into the room and allowed him full view of her womanly features, from the exquisite slope of her shoulders and the fullness of her breasts to the soft flesh of her belly and tuft of hair between her legs. Her lips looked full and swollen from his kiss.

He shifted and unbuttoned his trousers. She looked down at his hardening member with eyes that conveyed both trepidation and hunger. To his surprise, she wrapped her fingers around his cock in an exquisitely shy, gentle touch that turned it to granite.

Licking her lips, she said, “It feels hard and soft at the same time, like a pole wrapped in velvet.”

He groaned as blood surged to his manhood. “That’s the first time my cock’s been compared to fabric.”

She smiled cheekily. “I’m a seamstress. It’s what I know.”

He grinned back and returned the touch, fingering between the split of her sex, coating his fingers in her honey. “I’ll tell you what I know. You’re a very bad girl, sopping wet from your spanking.”

“Oh, Frank.”

“Oh, Frank, what?” he growled. “Oh, Frank, fuck me hard like the naughty princess I am?” He fondled her little bud of nerves with his thumb and drove two fingers into her slick vagina.

“Yes!” she cried, her head falling back as he stroked her.

About the Author:

Amelia Smarts is a USA Today bestselling author of fast-paced, steamy western romances with dominant cowboys, Dom/sub discipline, and heartwarming HEAs. Amelia holds graduate and undergraduate degrees in creative writing and English. She loves to read, which allows her writing to be influenced by many different genres in addition to romance, including mystery, adventure, history, and suspense. Want to discuss books? Drop her a line at amelia@ameliasmarts.com.

Connect with Amelia!

Website — www.ameliasmarts.com
Facebook — https://www.facebook.com/smarts.amelia/
Bookbub — https://bit.ly/3iFUjVl
Amazon — https://amzn.to/3iy1ejD

New Release ~ Dirty Rocker ~ by ~ SC Daiko


Title: DIRTY ROCKER: A Rock Star Romance
Author: SC Daiko
Genre: Contemporary/NA Romance
Release Date: July 15, 2020

Hayley
 
I’ve been tasked with ‘babysitting’ a DIRTY ROCKER.
Pierce Fox, heart-throb drummer for British rock gods, ChiMera.
He’s hot, undeniable, and a walking disaster.
Pierce has a vulnerability, a soft side that reels me in.
A man full of darkness but shot through with light.
He sweeps me away in a riptide of emotions. 
And he might even help me recover what I never had.
 
Pierce
 
As my stylist, Hayley has seen my worst excesses.
Now her job is to stop me from drinking myself to death.
She’s sweet but sassy… so effing beautiful.
Could she be my new addiction? 
I can’t get enough of her.
And, when I find out her deepest secret, I crave her even more.
Trouble is, she’s not the only one with secrets…
Dark waters of my past are rising.
If I’m not careful, the tsunami will drown us both.
 
A steamy new standalone romance full of tender impulse and aching hunger. Author SC Daiko brings readers another emotion-packed novel filled with sexiness, danger, and love. 

“I was truly blown away,” Debra P, Amazon Reviewer

“An epically good read,” Aunt G. Top 500 Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer

“…unique and emotional,” MissPetiteBrunette, Amazon Reviewer

“…an awesome book,” Christine Campbell, Amazon Reviewer

I trod water in the deep end of the pool, enjoying the sight of Hayley as she made her way across the decking, her tits almost bouncing out of the top of her tankini. 
I’d give anything to cup them and suck them and fucking bite them.
Whoa, mate. Not gonna happen. She’s not the kinda girl who’d be up for a one-night stand and you’re not the kinda bloke who’d offer more than that…
My dick had stiffened and I dove down into the depths, where I quickly adjusted myself. A ripple in the water, and I opened my eyes. A pint-sized body was swimming toward me, but the chlorine had started stinging, so I shot upward to resurface and shake the droplets from my long hair. Usually tied back except when I was on stage, it hung annoyingly heavy and wet down the sides of my face.
Yankee Girl popped up like a cork from a bottle. She swam to the shallow end and I joined her. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Like I’ve been run over by a steamroller, to be honest. And the fucking meds have turned me into a zombie.” 
I made a face at her like I was one of the walking dead, and she laughed. “You gotta let things take their course. The nurse explained that we need to reduce the pills slowly until you can manage without.” 
“Thought I was gonna die on the plane home.” I grimaced. “I’ve never experienced pain like that. I hope I never have to again.”
She shot me a concerned look. “You’re doing great. Let’s just take this one day at a time.”
“Can’t wait to get back to normal,” I huffed.
Except, what would my new normal be? Sober and clean would be a whole new ball game and I didn’t know if I could hack it.
“Axel and Phoenix are looking forward to hanging out with you, now you’re so much better.” Hayley’s mouth curved into a warm smile.
I stuck out my bottom lip. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Having mates ’round without enjoying booze was about as appealing as an audience with the Pope. 
Golden sparks flashed in Yankee Girl’s amber irises. “They care about you.”
“I know,” I said, but still I wallowed in self-pity. “It will be like partying during prohibition.”
“You don’t need alcohol to have a good time,” she responded. 
“Wine, women and song, the adage goes,” I shrugged. “At least I can still fuck and make music.” 
Her heart-shaped face flushed. “Don’t you have any hobbies or play any sports?”

 

“I’m a musician. Playing music and rehearsing is my life. I exercise in the gym. Never had time for anything else.” I paused, shot her a look. “How about you?”
SC Daiko, aka Siobhan, is a British author of fast-paced bestselling contemporary romance, erotic romance, and romantic suspense. When she isn’t writing or looking after guests, Siobhan loves to swim in the sea, travel around Europe, sample different food and enjoy local wine. She has worked in the City of London and taught languages in a Welsh high school before moving to Italy, where she now lives with her husband, a Havanese puppy and three cats. Nothing makes Siobhan happier than connecting with her readers.

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New Release ~ What’s Left of Me ~ by ~ Kristen Granata

Today we have the release day blitz for What’s Left of Me by Kristen Granata! Check out the release day blitz and be sure to grab your copy today!

Title: What’s Left of Me
Author: Kristen Granata
Genre: Contemporary Romance

About What’s Left of Me:

“It’s very rare that an author surprises me. Kristen Granata didn’t just surprise me, she completely blew me away. If you love emotional, poignant, and healing romance, you simply cannot miss What’s Left of Me. A five-star must read and a lovely introduction for me to a new author I know I’ll love for years to come.” — Bestselling Author Kandi Steiner

Callie Kingston’s life as an Orange County housewife isn’t as perfect as it seems. Her husband isn’t the same man she fell in love with nine years ago, and her home is no longer her safe haven. But she’s determined to keep up appearances, especially when it comes to concealing the bruises her husband’s temper leaves behind.
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Until Cole Luciano moves into her best friend’s house across the street. He’s abrasive and rude, but his steel-blue eyes tell a different story—one with dark secrets that has Callie curious.
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After suffering through an unspeakable tragedy, Cole lives in his sister’s pool house until he can get back on his feet. He’s convinced that he deserves to live with the guilt he harbors from his past, and wants nothing more than to be left alone. Yet he can’t seem to stay away from his beautiful neighbor. He sees right through Callie’s carefully orchestrated lies and is desperate to help her.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Callie discovers more than an angry and bitter man underneath Cole’s hard exterior. But when Callie finally finds the courage to create a new life for herself, Cole isn’t sure if there’s enough of his heart left to give in order to be the man she deserves.
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Can two broken souls heal each other, or are some just too damaged to be put back together?
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*This book contains some graphic scenes and very sensitive subject matter.

Get Your Copy Today!

Exclusive Excerpt:

I’m not getting out of bed today.
This is an amazing mattress. Just the right amount of firm-to-soft ratio. This comforter rocks too. It’s puffy but not suffocating. These sheets are a high thread count. Breathable. I did good when I picked these out. I could stay here all day. Don’t need to go grocery shopping. Who needs to eat when you have a mattress like this? Laundry? Pffft. I won’t need clothes if I stay in bed. This is the perfect solution to all of life’s problems.
But what is that awful smell?
A long, wet tongue slides across my cheek, and I groan. “Go back to sleep, Maverick.”
With my eyelids still closed, I reach out and smooth my fingers through my retriever’s fluffy fur. His tongue makes another pass over my cheek, and again, I’m hit with a blast of that stench.
My nose scrunches as my head jerks up off the pillow. “Maverick, did you eat your poop again?”
His head dips down, and he rests it on top of his front paws.
“Don’t give me those eyes! They’re not going to work on me this time.”
He leaps off the bed and bounds into the hallway, tail swatting from left to right as he waits for me at the top of the stairs.
Guess I’m getting out of bed.
I flip the comforter off my body, swing my legs to the side of the mattress, and jam my feet into my plush white slippers.
Once I’m vertical, my head throbs like someone dropped an anvil on it. I grip onto the cool iron bannister and take my time down the spiral staircase. Maverick waits at the bottom, his body thrashing like a shark from the momentum of his tail.
“You are way too awake for me right now, bud.”
He woofs in response and prances into the kitchen ahead of me.
When I stagger into the kitchen, sunlight streams through the windows, reflecting off the marble countertop and searing my retinas. I yank the cord on the blinds and bury my face in the crook of my elbow, hissing like Dracula.
Maverick plops down at my feet, nuzzling my ankle with his wet nose. We both jump when we hear the creak of the front door, and then he takes off into the foyer.
Paul strides into the kitchen, saturated in sweat from his morning run, and I hold my breath until his lips curve up into a smile.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Relief washes over me. “Morning. How was your run?”
Paul snatches a water bottle from the refrigerator and twists off the cap. “Four miles today.”
His royal-blue Under Armour T-shirt clings to his broad chest, the muscles in his biceps flexing with his movements. His blond strands are damp and disheveled, and his skin glows with a golden sheen.
I lift an eyebrow. “How is it that you look this sexy after a four-mile run?”
He grins. “How is it that you look this sexy when you just woke up?”
I huff out a sardonic laugh, knowing damn well I resemble the Crypt Keeper at the moment.
Paul leans in with puckered lips, but I make an X with my forearms in front of my face. “The poop-eating bandit got me. You might want to stay back.”
He looks down at Maverick, and as if he knows we’re talking about him, Maverick ducks around the corner of the island.
“You’re nasty, dog.”
“I’ll call the vet today. Maybe they’ll know how to deter him from eating his own feces.”
Paul leans his hip against the counter. “I think all dogs eat their own crap.”
“We have to watch him better when he’s out back. Stop it before he can get to it.” I walk around the island so I can start on breakfast. “I read something once that said dogs eat their poop when they’re lacking vitamins in their diet. Was it an article? Maybe Josie told me. I don’t know; I can’t remember. Either way—”
I stop moving and snap my fingers in front of Paul’s face. “Are you even listening to me?”
Paul shakes his head, his eyes roving over my body. “I haven’t heard one word since you stood up in those silky shorts.”
I smile and set a frying pan on top of the stove. “Please. This isn’t anything you haven’t seen before.”
“Yet it never gets old.” He closes the distance between us and stands behind me, trailing his hands up my arms.
I hum at his light touch, welcoming it. “Let’s hope you always think that.”
“I know I will.” He tilts my head to the side and presses his lips to my neck. One of his hands slips under my camisole, cupping my breast, while he tugs my shorts down with the other.
My head falls back against his shoulder, and a long exhale leaves my parted lips. “Don’t you have a meeting?”
“Just means we’ll have to be quick.” His fingers slide between my thighs and press inside me while his thumb rubs circles on my clit at the same time.
My legs quiver, and I reach forward to grip the edge of the counter. Paul gives my back a gentle push until my chest is pressed against the cool marble, and then he slides his length inside me.
“I love you,” he whispers at my ear, gripping my hips, pumping in and out of me in long, controlled strokes.
I arch my back to meet each of his thrusts, and his fingers return to my clit as he drives into me faster, harder, deeper. I moan, writhing against his hand, and his pace quickens.
I can feel the pleasure mounting in my core, the steady build like a rising wave. Soon, it crashes over me. I cry out as the spasms rack through my body. Paul goes under too, grunting as his hot liquid fills me.
He holds me there, pressing soft kisses to my shoulder, my neck, my temple. “This is what I’ve missed. I’m so glad we can finally get back to how things used to be.”
“Me too.”
And that’s my halfhearted truth.
I should relish in this feeling, the closeness, his gentle love, but my mind crawls toward the analytical place it always goes to, calculating the date, the time, the exact location in my cycle. My fingers itch to reach for my phone and click on the fertility app out of habit, but for the first time in three years, I don’t.
And after last night, I never will again.
With a pat on my backside, Paul pulls away and tucks himself back into his running shorts. “I’m hitting the shower.”
My eyes linger on his wide back and confident swagger as he leaves the room with his head held high, free from the anxious thoughts that plague me.
Guilt squeezes my chest when I think about everything that I’ve put him through over the past few years. The stress, the doctor’s appointments, all my tears.
No more.
Paul’s right. We need to get back to the way we used to be. Back before I became obsessed with starting a family. Before I plunged into depression and dragged him down with me. Before the people we were when we got married turned into strangers.
It’s time to put it to rest.
And it’s up to me to do it.
I can be better.
I can find happiness again.
I straighten my camisole, pull up my shorts, and start gathering the ingredients I need for breakfast.
The kitchen is my favorite room in this entire house. Beautiful marble countertops; tall, white cabinets; stainless steel appliances. Paul had the contractor create it based off of my exact vision. He says it’s because he loves me so much. I say it’s because he needs me to cook for him because Paul could burn water.
Sometimes it feels like I’m living someone else’s life, like this is all a dream. Living in a mansion in Orange County, California, married to the Adonis that is my husband, not having to get up and work 9-5 every day. I’m very fortunate to have everything I could ever need at my fingertips.
I didn’t grow up with all this. I came from an average, middle-class family. But when I met Paul in college, everything changed. We’ve been together for nine years now, and I’m still not used to this lifestyle. I don’t think I ever will be.
As I scoop the egg-white-and-spinach omelet with hash browns into the glass container, Paul
struts back into the kitchen, dressed to perfection in his navy suit. I hand him his lunch bag, his breakfast, and his coffee mug.
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Have a good day.”
“Be good, poop breath,” he calls over his shoulder.
Maverick barely lifts his head from where he’s sprawled out by the back door, bathing in the sunspot.
The dog-life of Riley.
When I hear the click of the front door, a long exhale whooshes out of me. I want to walk upstairs and climb right back into bed, but if I’m going to make things better, I have to start by looking the part. So instead, I drag myself up the stairs and into the bathroom.
It’s been a while since I’ve cared about my appearance. Been a while since I’ve cared about anything other than becoming a mother.
Fake it ‘til you make it, they say.
Flipping on the lights, I shimmy out of my pajama shorts and tear the camisole over my head. I suck in a sharp breath when my eyes land on my reflection in the mirror for the first time this morning. My stomach clenches at the sight of the dark-purple splotches along my left bicep, memories of last night flooding my vision.
Damn you, Maverick. I wanted to stay in bed today.
I blink away the hot tears before they get the chance to brim over, quick to replace the weak emotion with logic.
Paul drank too much last night, and everything we’ve been holding in for the last three years came to a head.
It was my fault.
I shouldn’t have let things get to that point.
I shouldn’t have spoken up.
I’ll do better.
It won’t happen again.
Needing a plan rather than wallowing in self-pity, I examine the span of the bruising and mentally scour through my wardrobe for the right sweater. Hopefully, today will be brisk enough to wear one without drawing attention to myself. Even if the weather’s hot, I could get away with wearing one of my cardigans with three-quarter-length sleeves. Shouldn’t be too conspicuous.
Deep breath in through the nose, and out through the mouth.
Maverick.
California king bed.
Walk-in closet.
Dream kitchen.
Yard with a pool.
Mercedes.
“I’m fine,” I tell my reflection. “Everything’s fine.”
I twist the lever in the shower and step under the waterfall, letting the warm water cascade over my skin. By the time I lather and rinse, the urge to cry is gone and I can breathe easy again.
Wrapping the towel around myself, I swing open the bathroom door and head to my closet. My pale-yellow sweater covers the mess on my arm, and I leave it unbuttoned over my white-and-yellow floral maxi dress. I spend thirty minutes lining my eyelids, curling my lashes, and passing the flatiron over my blond waves, taming it the way I know Paul prefers it.
With my armor in place, I square my shoulders in the mirror and heave a sigh. “Good as new.”
At the sound of my sandals clunking down the stairs, my overeager dog gallops toward the front door.
“Ready for your walk, Mav?”
He woofs and spins in a circle.
I’m clipping his leash onto his collar when a loud boom echoes outside. My shoulders jolt, and Maverick jumps to scratch at the door, barking like a madman.
“Are we starting with the fireworks already?”
The Fourth of July isn’t for another week. Plus, it’s nine o’clock in the morning.
I push the sheer cream curtain aside and peer out the window. A white pickup truck rolls to a stop in front of Josie’s house across the street. Well, there are visible areas of white paint—the truck was white at one time—surrounded by burnt-orange rust spots eating away at the metal. The bed of the truck is covered by a blue tarp, securing the contents underneath with a yellow bungee cord. Thick, black smoke billows from the exhaust pipe, trailing all the way down the block.
The truck pops again as it idles, sending Maverick into another barking fit.
“All right, bud. Enough.” I reach down to pat his head, keeping my nose glued to the windowpane.
The driver’s door swings open, and a man steps out. A navy-blue baseball cap sits on his head, pulled down low over his eyes. His plain white T-shirt, which looks more like an undershirt, is wrinkled and smudged with brown stains. His jeans are ripped—not the kind of rips people pay for—and equally as filthy as his shirt. He strides around the front bumper and up the walkway that leads to Josie’s backyard.
“He must be the new landscaper.”
Maverick cocks his head to the side as if he’s listening to me.
Josie’s Lexus isn’t in her driveway, so I find it strange that she’d give a stranger the passcode to get in through her back gate. Maybe she left it unlocked for him before she left. Seems odd, but we’ve been desperate to find a new landscaping company after one of the workers from our old company got caught having an affair with Mrs. Nelson down the street. If Josie found someone dependable, I’m going to need his card. Paul will be thrilled. Our shrubs need trimming, and weeds are beginning to poke up through the pavers in our driveway.
“Come on, bud.” I snatch my sunglasses off the entryway table and lead Maverick out the front door.
Once we cross the wide street, Maverick pulls ahead of me, his nose to the ground, sniffing
his way up the path of pavers. The iron gate is ajar, and Maverick continues pulling me through the opening into the backyard.
The layout is like mine. Same-sized rectangular inground pool, similar patio furniture. But Josie’s yard is full of life, whereas mine has barely been touched. Squirt guns, skateboard ramps, and balls from every sport litter her grass. It’s obvious that a family lives here.
Josie often complains of the mess, but I’d give anything to step on a Lego block belonging to my child.
The landscaper is standing in front of the pool house with his back to me, one hand on his hip while the other tips the neck of a brown glass bottle into his mouth.
So much for finding a reliable landscaper.
I stop a few feet behind him, wrapping Maverick’s leash around my hand a few times to keep him from pulling me any further.
“Don’t think you should be drinking on the job, sir.”
The man spins around and blasts me with a scowl that sends a shiver down my spine. Under the brim of his hat, I spot a deep, disgruntled crease that lies between his dark brows. His prominent, unshaven jaw pops, clenching, as if he’s gritting through physical pain while he glares at me with piercing steel-blue eyes.
The hairs on my arms lift in a whoosh of awareness, and fear slices into me.
I shouldn’t have come back here alone.
Maverick’s tail thumps against my leg as he leans forward to get to the stranger, clearly unfazed by the potential danger I’ve put us in.
“I … I’m sorry.” I pull Maverick back. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I live across the street.”
Great idea. Tell the nice murderer where you live.
He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t introduce himself. He just keeps hitting me with that unwavering glacial stare. It’s too much, too powerful to withstand, so I lower my gaze and take in the rest of him.
Strong shoulders span wide, adding to his towering height. His shirt is taut around his upper-body. The muscles in his arms are well-defined striations, more than just swollen biceps and triceps. He’s carved from stone, detailed and unforgiving. A work of art that people travel from all over to stand in front of in admiration.
This man is beautiful.
Then again, that’s probably what every woman said about Ted Bundy right before he killed them.
I should leave. Flee back to the safety of my home.
But I’m frozen, sucked in by the enigmatic energy surging around him like a tornado of rage and agony.
And I’m standing right in his path.
I swallow, my throat thick with apprehension. “I, uh, we’re in need of a new landscaper. I saw you come back here and figured I’d come ask for your card.” I swallow again, my gaze flicking to the beer bottle glinting in the sunlight. “It’s a little early to be drinking, don’t you think? I mean,
you shouldn’t be impaired while operating heavy machinery. Don’t want to lose a foot in the lawn mower.”
I choke out a laugh, desperate to make light of the situation, but it comes out strangled and strained.
The man doesn’t laugh with me. He doesn’t crack a smile. Not sure his facial muscles would know how if he tried to. One massive hand is curled at his side, as if he’s gripping the leash on his composure, his self-control ready to snap.
“You’ve got some nerve coming back here like this.” The man’s voice is gruff with a sharp edge, like he gargles with a throatful of razors every morning.
My eyebrows lift in a flash of irritation. “Me? I’m a potential customer. One who wants to pay you for your landscaping services. Or I did, before I caught you getting drunk on the job.”
Why am I arguing with the scary man?
He folds his arms over his chest, accentuating the corded muscles in his forearms. “And you assume I’m a landscaper because why?”
“Your truck, for one.” I wave my arm in front of him. “You’re too dirty to be pool maintenance. If you were a roofer, you’d have a ladder.” I shrug like it’s simple addition. “And this isn’t your backyard, so unless you’re here to rob the place …” My fingers touch my lips. “Oh, God. You’re not here to rob them, are you?”
He edges closer, the look of disgust twisting his features—the look he’s directing at me.
I lift my chin and try not to flinch.
I’ve learned that flinching only makes it worse.
Maverick strains against his leash, his eager nose in the air, wide eyes begging the stranger to pet him. I have to use both hands to tug him back.
Some guard dog you are, Mav! This man is about to kill me, and you’re trying to sniff his crotch and make friends.
The man points his index finger at me, revulsion rolling off his tongue with each syllable. “You self-righteous, pretentious little princess.”
My mouth falls open, and my stomach bottoms out.
“You stand there in your designer clothes, your shoes that cost more than a month’s rent, scrutinizing everyone behind your ridiculous fucking sunglasses, and you’re gonna judge me?” He shakes his head. “My clothes are dirty because I work my ass off. My truck’s a piece of shit because I have more important things to pay for. And I’m a grown-ass man, so I’ll drink whenever the fuck I feel like drinking. All you rich motherfuckers act like you’re better than people like me, but I know the sickening truth. I can lay my head down at night with a clear conscience because I’m not living a lie. I’d rather look ugly on the outside than be ugly on the inside like you.”
His words pack a physical punch, hitting way too close to home. A tremor rips through me, and before I can stop it, a tear escapes from under my sunglasses.
It’s time to go.
“I’m sorry.” I whip around and bolt out of the backyard, dragging Maverick behind me.
My legs carry me across the grass as fast as my wedges will allow. I bunch my dress in my
fist, hiking it up over my knees so my strides are longer.
When I reach my house, I slam the door closed behind me and press my back against it. My chest heaves as I gasp for air, my heart racing. A sob gurgles in my throat, but I swallow it down.
Maverick.
California king bed.
Walk-in closet.
Dream kitchen.
Yard with a pool.
Mercedes.
Maverick whimpers, nudging me with his cold nose. I sink down to the floor and fling my arms around him, burying my face in the comfort of his soft fur.
“It’s okay, Mav. I’m okay.”
Everything’s okay.
I shouldn’t have confronted him like that.
It’s my fault for making him so angry.
My speeding pulse returns to normal after a few minutes of deep breathing, and I push off the floor. Maverick follows me into the kitchen as I swipe my purse and my car keys off the counter.
“Sorry, bud. You gotta stay here. I’m running to the store. Making a special dinner for your dad tonight.”
I kiss the top of his head, and then I’m back out the door, head down, without so much as a glance at the pickup truck out front.

* * *

“Mmm. So good, babe.”
My lips spread into a smile. “Figured I’d surprise you with your favorite dish tonight.”
Paul’s hand slides across the cherry wood table, and he entwines our fingers. “I love it. Thank you.”
“How was your day?”
He tugs on his tie, loosening it, before popping his collar and slipping the loop over his head. “Good. Meeting went well. I think Haarburger’s going to sign with us.”
“That’s great.”
He dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “How was therapy?”
“It went well.”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “Did you, uh, tell her what we talked about last night?”
“I told her about our decision to stop trying to have kids. She thinks it’s good that we’re on the same page, that we’re able to move on together.”
“Not what I was referring to, Cal.”
“Oh.”
He’s asking if I told her about the bruises he left on my arm.
I look down at my spaghetti. “No, I didn’t mention it.”
“Good.” He sets his fork down beside his plate. “Because I meant what I said last night. It won’t happen again.”
I nod, unsure of what he wants me to say to that. It wasn’t the first time he put his hands on me, nor was it the first time he promised that it won’t happen again. I want to call him out on that. I want to ask him why he feels the need to hurt me in order to get his point across. I want to ask him why he can’t control his temper. I want to ask him what happened to the sweet man I met in college. I want to ask him to get some help.
But sometimes, silence is easier than navigating around all the egg shells lying at my feet.
He picks his fork back up. “Did you call the vet?”
“I did. They said to watch him when he’s in the backyard so he doesn’t get the opportunity to eat his poop.” I lift my goblet to my lips and take a long sip.
“Did you ask why he’s doing this?”
My stomach coils. “The, uh, the doctor said it could be due to anxiety.”
“Anxiety. Like you.”
“Yeah. He asked if we’ve been stressed, because dogs can pick up on our feelings.”
Recognition flashes across Paul’s face, his light-brown eyes hardening. “So what did you tell him?”
“I told him everything’s fine, of course. He said we could put Maverick on a low dose of anxiety medication, but I said that won’t be necessary. We’ll just watch him better when he’s outside. Won’t happen again if we keep an eye on him.” I force a smile and clasp my hands together. “Ready for dessert?”
He shakes his head and pushes his chair back as he stands. “I’m going to change. Got some e-mails to send out.”
“Of course. I’ll get this all cleaned up.”
He’s gone before the sentence leaves my lips.
Could’ve gone worse, I suppose.
I release a sigh and begin stacking our plates.
While I rinse off the dishes in the sink, I gaze out the window into the darkened yard. The pool house at the far end elicits the memory of the bizarre encounter in Josie’s backyard this morning.
I’ve tried not to think about the rude stranger all day, but my mind keeps drifting back to him. Back to what he’d said.
He was right. I’d judged him by his appearance and made an assumption based on it. Shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, though. He could’ve laughed it off like a silly misunderstanding. He didn’t need to go off on me like he did. People judge books by their covers all the time.
Hell, he did the same thing with me, didn’t he? He lumped me in with the wealthy people in this neighborhood, pointing out my expensive clothes and accessories, calling me a fake without
knowing anything about me. I could call him a jerk and chalk it up to him being mean.
But his words carry weight.
I am a fake.
I am living a lie.
Who was that man, and how did he read me so easily?
More importantly, does Josie know that someone was in her yard today?
I dry my hands on a dishtowel and dig through my purse to find my phone. Before I can tap out a text, I spot one already waiting in my inbox. When I click on it and read the words that pop up on the screen, my hand clamps over my mouth.

Josie: So I heard you met my brother this morning.

 

About the Author:

Kristen Granata is a teacher by day, and an (exhausted) author by night. Known for writing emotional New Adult Romance, she loves creating realistic, flawed characters who struggle through the darkest parts of life and come out stronger on the other side. Kristen is a self-proclaimed “bitter cynic trapped in a hopeless romantic’s body.” Her characters pack a sarcastic punch, make you laugh, make you think, make you ugly cry – and they will always live happily ever after. If you’re a lover of moving, inspirational reads, Kristen’s your girl.

Kristen was born in Brooklyn, New York in 1986. She moved to Staten Island with her family and lived there for almost twenty years. There she attended community college and became a teacher. Despite her passion for writing, and despite her professors strongly suggesting she become a writer, she took the more sensible route (bitter cynic, remember?) After going through a difficult divorce when she was only twenty-nine, Kristen returned to writing. The raw story that poured out of her led her to publish her debut novel, Collision, in March of 2018. Soon after in August 2018, the sequel, Avoidance, was published. Her third novel, The Other Brother, released in April 2019.

Kristen openly shares her mental health struggles with depression and anxiety with her Instagram following. Her message is a beacon of hope to anyone who is suffering: You are not alone. She delicately weaves this theme into her writing, and demonstrates the ability of love to heal trauma.

When she’s not teaching or writing, Kristen is reading, Instagramming, indulging in her messy love affair with popcorn, and annoying her wife and step-daughters by incessantly singing along to The Greatest Showman soundtrack.

Connect with Kristen:
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