





“This duet put a cherry on my book cake and I loved it.” ~ Goodreads Reviewer
“This book made me smile feel my heartbreaking and so many other emotions” – Goodreads Reviewer

Spencer Brooks was the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. Not only was he my boss and father’s best friend but he was also the man I had been sneaking around with for the entire summer.
That is why my world shattered the night my father caught us in bed together. Angry as hell, my father forbade us to be together, but Spencer promised me that everything would work out. In the coming days, my father demanded I quit my job. Only he didn’t stop there. He also called Spencer’s ex-wife, who threatened to take Spencer’s daughter Nikki away from him, forcing Spencer to call us quits for good.
Heartbroken, I buried my feelings for the man I loved, and put in a transfer to another department to appease my father. Only to my surprise Spencer refused to sign it until after I helped him organize his company Christmas Party.
I could only do this if he promised to keep it professional, but soon I was noticing the soft touches and lingering glances. Then one night he delivered a kiss that brought all my feelings back to the surface. I try to fight it at first until I discover something that will either bring us together or tear us apart for good.

I cleared my throat. “Things are going great,” I answered, straightening the tie Dad was wearing.
Dad turned and looked in the mirror, impressed with my tie straightening skills. “Wow, where on earth did you learn to do that?” he asked, knowing full well I’d never held a serious relationship before.
Truth was I had come to learn to straighten ties almost immediately after Spencer and I had had an intense session of hot sex against his office wall.
I shrugged. “It’s just easier when someone else does it,” I said, turning away from my father.
“When is Spencer supposed to be back from that business trip?”
“Um, I believe he said Monday. At least that was what his schedule said. Why?”
“Good, I have to go out of town for work on Monday. I feel better knowing he is home next door to look over you when I am gone.”
I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and hoped that my father hadn’t seen it. He wouldn’t feel better if he knew that Spencer and I were involved. He certainly wouldn’t feel better if he knew the things Spencer and I had done together when he’d been gone.
“What time are you supposed to be meeting this woman?” I asked, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket.
“I pick her up in ten minutes. I guess I should probably get going. She lives on the other side of town,” he said, looking at his watch.
I handed Dad his jacket and practically shoved him out the door and watched as he ran down the front steps of the house. “Make sure you keep the doors locked, and if you’re feeling ambitious, why don’t you pull up some of the Christmas decorations from the basement,” He called out as he climbed in the car.
“I might,” I yelled. I waved just as he pulled out of the driveway and watched until he was out of sight, then I took my phone and sent Spencer a message.
BabyGirl89: He’s gone.
Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, in a matter of minutes, he was standing in the entryway of the house, and I was pressed up against the wall in his embrace with his lips tightly pressed to mine.




Andraya removed her suit cover-up and kicked off her sandals as soon as she hit the beach. The mid-September sun beat down on her head and face, making the day bright and beautiful. She smiled as she walked halfway down the sandy spot, out of the prying eyes of the palace guards. Because of that, she’d worn a two-piece yellow bathing suit Annie had given her. When she her destination, she dropped down on one of the many chaises the royal family attendants had set out. Umbrellas dotted the area too, but Andraya allowed herself one half-hour in the sun. Renata insisted she swim here.
Darling Andraya, of course you must use our beach. Your father would skewer Alessio if we let you use the public one.
Renata, my father does not control my life over here.
Then do it for the school. Do you really want to sunbathe with students?
Well, no.
And you shouldn’t swim alone. I’ll have a female guard far enough up on one of the cliffs for privacy but close enough for her to jump in and get you, if need be.
Eventually, Andraya had given in. Eventually, everybody gave in to the queen who, at sixty, was imposing and lovely.
Lying flat on her back, she rubbed her arm to make sure she had enough sunscreen on her body. Satisfied she did, she took a book out of her backpack. By Elena Ferrante, The Lost Child, had won the Strega Award. If Andraya thought it was age appropriate and interesting enough, she planned to teach it next term.
She began reading. The book was interesting, but her eyelids began to close. So, she set it down, got up and headed into the Mediterranean Sea. Sand squished between her toes and still-warm water lapped at her feet. She went out further and further then dove into the water.
When she got back on land, she felt great. She laid back on her chaise, picked up the book, and began to read again. Her family wondered why she’d moved to Casarina. Was anything better than this?
#
What the hell? Ben Moretti stopped short inside the door of the Agricultural wing. He walked up close to the color picture of a woman sunbathing plastered on the wall. No, not any woman. Dio mio, Andraya Manwaring.
A prank? Damn it, he hoped his kids weren’t responsible for this. They’d asked to stay at friends’ houses overnight so he came in early on the first day and didn’t drive them to school.
For a few seconds, he stared at her curves. Wow! He had no idea she was so…sculpted. Her dark hair was up on her head and she had her eyes closed. The amount of skin revealed made him swallow hard. Shrugging off the reaction, he pulled down the first one headed up the hall. Outside every few rooms were more of copies of the photo. He yanked at them. His heart beat fast in his chest. This was so unfair of her. She’d be embarrassed to hell.
His phone buzzed. Renata. “Moretti.”
“Are you at school yet?”
“Yeah.”
“Are there photos of Andraya up in your wing?”
“Yep. I’m taking them down as I go.”
“When you’re finished, could you come over to the Humanities wing and head off Andraya. I’m having the building scoured. If you can, get them down in her hallway first, but tell her what’s happened.”
He wondered why Renata called him. He hadn’t spent that much time with Andraya. They’d met during the summer for some preplanning, and he’d talked to her about the kids. He’d also have to confess some of the reasons for their behavior. And she was understanding of their issues. He owed her “Sure, I’ll help out.”
“She parks in her designated spot outside the Humanities wing.” Teachers had their own spaces in the faculty lot.
Making quick work of ripping down the rest of the flyers in this wing, he jogged down to her hall, grabbing pictures. He got to the outside door and found her just entering the building.
“Hey, Ben. Are you waiting for me?” She looked like a daisy in a pretty yellow dress.
“Yeah. Renata asked me to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Let’s talk on the way to your room.”
She stopped. “Tell me now.”
Sighing, he handed her a copy of the picture. She stared at her photo then lifted her gaze. “Hey, it’s a pretty good shot of me, don’t you think?”
“How can you joke about this?”
A small line marring her brow. “I’m not ashamed of how I look.”
“Why would you be? You’re gorgeous.”
Now those light brown brows shot up. “Why…thank you.”
She took another glance. “Where’d you get this? I was sunbathing on the palace property.”
“I’m afraid someone took a picture of you there. Copies were posted all over school.”
“Seriously? Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“I…” He glanced away.
“What?”
“I’m afraid my kids did it. They stayed overnight at a friend’s house, so they could have come in early without me knowing it.”
“Let’s not overreact. Or assign blame just yet.”
Now, he frowned. “I didn’t expect you to be…all right with this.”
“I’m not. No one did this with kindness in his or her heart. But I’m also not going to melt into a puddle at the sight of it.” She took a bead on him. “You know, anyone could be responsible.”
“You don’t have enemies. You’re too nice.”
“There’s resentment among some of the faculty because I’m so close to Renata. And all my life, people have been jealous of me being the daughter of the U.S. president.”
“This looks more like kids’ doing to me. They had to sneak on the palace property over the weekend to take the photograph, then somehow get the flyers up when school opened early.”
“Walk me to my room, would you?”
“Sure.” On the way they passed teachers who were arriving.
A woman stopped them. “Andraya, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. But it’s not the end of the world, so don’t worry about me, Iliana.”
They went further and bumped into the new member of her department. Ben said, “Domenico.”
Andraya held his gaze boldly. “Dom.”
“Lookin’ good,” he said with a seedy smile.
She gave him a dazzling one. “Why, thank you, Dom.”
He recoiled back. If the stronzo thought he was going to get a rise out of her, he was swimming in the wrong fish tank.
They kept going. Finally, he couldn’t keep it in. “You know, you’re something else. I wouldn’t have handled this as well as you are.”
“Why, you have a great body?”
Holy hell. He kept himself from being embarrassed. And worse, turned on by her comment. All he said was, “Ha!”
#
The kids were fourteen and they looked so young with their new sneakers and recent haircuts as they walked into her classroom. They were whispering and giving her sly looks. Just as she thought, she’d have to deal with the photo right away. Once they were seated, she greeted them. She was heartened to see several students frowning or sad even. Some, though, were grinning a lot like Dom.
“I’m sorry to have to start the first day like this, but hello, I’m Professoressa or Prof Andraya, if you like. I met some of you this summer, others not. But, before I can greet properly, I’ll address this.”
She held up one of the copies Ben had given her and with a bland expression on her face, she silently walked down one aisle and up the another, until she’d covered the whole room.
Once back up front, she said, “These were all over school this morning. If you know who did this, tell that person I’m not embarrassed. I know this is a flattering picture of me.
“I also know whomever did this was trying to hurt me, and I’m very sad about that. Again, I’m not angry, not embarrassed, but sad.
“With that, I’d like to forget about this…” she crumpled the paper tossed it into the trash “…and go on to our first day together.”
A pretty little girl raised her hand. “Do you have something to say, Serina?” The kids wore name tags until their teacher learned their names.
“Yes, Professoressa. I hate that stupid person who did this to you. Lots of students will be sorry, like me.”
“Thank you for telling me that. Now I’d like to have the first class I planned.” She picked up a stack of journals. “I’m handing these out for you to use at home then bring back in case we need them in class. Like right now. In either English or Italian, you’re to write about your expectations for the class. How you’re feeling about it. Be honest. You have fifteen minutes. No one else will read it but me. I’ll comment on each one.”
They got to work. Most of them. The two dark-haired Moretti twins looked at each other. She saw Meliora shake her head at Matteo. Huh, she was the dominant one. Their journals remained closed. Andraya walked to them. Bent over, so they both could hear. “If you don’t do this now, you’ll have to come after school to complete the paragraphs.”
“Can’t,” Meliora said. “No ride home then.”
“Not an excuse. You’ll have to find one. And since you’re new this year, I’ll tell you that it’s rule at the Marcello School that a teacher can keep kids after school any day of the week. Even Saturday. Parents have to agree to accommodate them before you enroll.” Italy had classes on Saturdays.
Meliora glared at her with hateful dark eyes. Then she opened the journal and wrote, No expectations. Feeling like shit now.
“Three paragraphs are required.” She glanced over at the boy. He’d opened his journal and started writing.
“Mattie!” Meliora whispered harshly.
“Come on, Meli. You know what Papa said.”
“And if you insist on preventing your brother from doing assignments, Meliora, I’ll separate you in the room.” She arched a brow. “Or we’ll transfer you to a different classroom and another teacher. For the whole year.”
A glare that could freeze hell came from the girl now. But she started to write. And Matteo did the same. Andraya couldn’t wait to read what they had to say.
All of her classes consisted of the same speech, and similar statements from the students. But she did get to the journals activity and some other get-to-know-you activities.
At the end of the day, after the students left, Ben appeared in her doorway. “Hey. How are you holding up?”
“I made it through. Come on in.”
He walked to the front. Now she noticed how big and attractive he looked in black and white shirt rolled up at the sleeves and khaki pants, his hair tousled. He hitched a hip on the edge of one desk.
“From what I hear, it was more than that. The kids told me what you did. Good for you.”
“Thanks, but as I said, it was tedious and tiring. And marred our first time together.”
“For what it’s worth, some kids told me directly that they didn’t like the prank. And as they worked, I overheard even more of them discussing it, saying the same thing. You’re well liked, Andraya.”
“Thank you, Ben. Do you still think it’s your kids?”
“I don’t know. I can usually tell when they’re triumphant over something bad they did, and I didn’t get any vibes of that when their nonno picked them up.”
“I hope it wasn’t them.”
He checked the time. “Are you up to going to the meeting?”
“Meeting?”
“Of the assessment team. We’re picking up from what we did this summer on the new courses.”
“I forgot.”
“Renata would excuse you.” The queen was conducting assessment, as she was responsible for the curriculum. Otherwise, the facilitator would have been Luciana DeLuca, the upper grade principal.
Andraya pushed back her chair. “I told you, Signor Benito, that I’m not a wilting flower. I’m ready.”
“You said you wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle and now you’re not wilting flower.” The corners of his mouth turned up and his deep brown eyes crinkled. “I guess you are a force to be reckoned with.”
“I am.”
Another smile. “Let’s go.”



Verve Romance ~ “Crazy hot, super sweet, and with one of the most rewarding epilogues I’ve ever read, An Unexpected Turn was an absolute joy to read.“
Booklover Judy Lynn ~ “There are some hot and steamy times, some very romantic and swoon-worthy moments, and times filled with heart-warming emotion.”
Pages with Payten ~ “the white hot chemistry between Peyton and Jake is undeniable”
Kristina Hearts Books ~ “If the age gap, forbidden elements, small town vibe, and real adult communication weren’t enough the heat is sizzling between Peyton and Jake!”




Prologue
The call changed everything.
The call ordering me to stand down. I stood, walking in circles, the rage stiffening my neck, eyes drawn to my gun safe. I paced toward it, then shuffled back. They had kidnapped my wife, intent on destroying me. But I didn’t know who or why.
I had held a gun many times in the last decade, but not since protecting the US Secretary of State several years ago. It was the first and only time I killed anyone. I’d never completely recovered. I hated guns, hated killing, until now. Sometimes killing was necessary. Grandpa had taught me that. And I would again if that’s what it took to get Rebecca back.
Approaching the safe, I removed the Glock 17 and 26. The only thing that mattered was rescuing Rebecca.
Our sons needed their mother, I needed my wife, and would do anything to find her or die trying.


The North name is a heavy burden. Two things I learned young—the best way to keep my head on is to keep my head down, and… never fall in love. But I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.
Lillian came into my life swinging. Mistaking me for my abusive twin brother, she greets me with a swift kick to the balls and a busted lip. Then she really shakes up my world.
She needs her job, but she needs a break just as much. And nothing silences my demons as efficiently as playing the hero.
To protect her from my jerk twin—her boss—I take her on a business trip and quickly learn that she’s different. Blunt. Honest. Intriguingly strange. I’m transfixed, so when she unknowingly sinks a multimillion-dollar deal, I don’t speak up. Something my family won’t forgive.
Now, I have a choice to make. I can go against my own blood and burn the North legacy to the ground, or play it safe, commit to my self-imposed rules and predestined future. Choosing her would ruin my life as I know it, but I’m starting to wonder if a life without her is worth living.

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About JB Salsbury JB Salsbury, New York Times Best Selling author of The Fighting Series, lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day lost in a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles as stories claw away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.
Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to write her first novel.
Since 2013 she has published six bestselling novels in The Fighting Series and won a RONE Award.
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Welcome to Summers in Seaside, a small town located along the Oregon Coast and home of the Seaside Festival. This brand new series of short contemporary romance stories is filled with sun, sand and summer adventures that will tug at your heart strings.
by the authors.

Hi! I’m Monica. I write romance, not just any romance, though. I write romance that feels real and deep and has other fun and exciting elements to it. I love including other genres in my romance stories like action, suspense, and crime.
It all started with my love of reading. My mom used to read to me every night. I can’t remember a time in my childhood when she didn’t, until I became a rebellious teenager of course! This love of reading eventually morphed into wanting to create my own stories. I fell in love with writing at a young age. I started with fanfiction at the age of 12 and have been writing ever since.
As I’ve read other’s stories and have written my own, I’ve found it can be easy to let characters fall into societal stereotypes. I feel this is especially easy with female characters. They can so often fall into the Mary-Sue type and be perfect with no flaws or sharp edges or, you know, real personalities. Here’s what I aim to bring to you. Real, messed up, flawed, angry, hurt, traumatized characters.
As a victim of trauma myself, I aim to bring a real-life feel to my characters and stories. While this all may sound sad or morbid, that’s not all I bring to the table I assure you. These characters are also strong and independent despite their pasts, like so many of us are. Take a look at my work and see if you can relate or be inspired by the words on the pages, because you are strong and amazing and a survivor too!
Come on in and join a fantastic community focused on love, support, and equality. Your comments help keep me inspired and motivated! So, if you’ve got anything to say, say it! Thank you so much for being part of everything here. There are plenty of ways that you can become more involved. You can add me on Facebook and follow me on TikTok @monicamishogrems_author. Make sure to come say hi, I promise to respond!



Welcome to Summers in Seaside, a small town located along the Oregon Coast and home of the Seaside Festival. This brand new series of short contemporary romance stories is filled with sun, sand and summer adventures that will tug at your heart strings.
by the authors.

We all live in the illusions of our own realities. Cassandra’s reality lies between the quiet bridge of complex and chaotic. A single mother to two amazing boys, graphic artist, author, avid home gardener, baker, reader, and introvert, her hats are many. A refined goth, she’s obsessed with tattoos, shoes, hair dye, chocolate, metal and hip-hop music, and all things dark and creepy except bugs, those are too creepy. Each of her books contains a piece of her reality. Tiny fragments laced with forbidden romance, defining miniature slices of her truths.