Chapter Reveal!! Handle With Care by Helena Hunting

Handle With Care, an all-new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming August 27th, and we have a sneak peek!

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HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.

Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman

SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.

Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.

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Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2VGJ83p

AppleBooks: https://apple.co/2VXTyvK

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/HandleWithCare

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Kobo: http://bit.ly/2M09aKC

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Excerpt from Chapter One

Chapter One

What Have I Gotten Myself into?

Wren

I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze himself into a suit two sizes too small. He’s intimidatingly broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazard man bun thing. His beard is a hipster’s wet dream. His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine. And yet, here I am, sidling up next to him.

He glances at me, eyes bleary and not really tracking. He quickly focuses on his half-empty glass again. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward his mouth, I’m guessing he’s pretty hammered. I order a sparkling water with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime.

What I could really use is a cup of lavender-mint tea and my bed, but instead, I’m sitting next to a drunk man in his thirties. My life is extra glamorous, obviously. And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope.

“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’s missing more than half its contents. It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago. Yes, I’ve been watching him the entire time, waiting for an opportunity to make my move. While he’s been sitting here, he’s turned down two women, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel.

“You could say that,” he slurs. He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits. I can still make out the vibrant blue hue despite them being nearly closed. They move over me, assessing. I’m wearing a conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees. Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady.

“That solving your problems?” I give him a wry grin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie.

His gaze swings slowly to the bottle. It gives me a chance to really look at him. Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway.

“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here.” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died.”

I put a hand on his forearm. It feels awkward, and creepy on my part since its half-genuine, half-contrived comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink. “I should be sorry too, but I think he was mostly an asshole, so the world might be better off without him.” He attempts to fill his glass again, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead. I rush to lift my purse and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess.

“I’m drunk,” he mumbles.

“Well, I’m thinking that might’ve been the plan, considering the way you’re sucking that bottle back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t ask for a straw in the first place. Might be a good idea to throw a spacer [CD3] in there if you want tomorrow morning to suck less.” I push my drink toward him, hoping he doesn’t send me packing like he did the other women who approached him earlier.

He narrows his eyes at my glass, suspicious, maybe. “What is that?”

“Cranberry and soda.”

“No booze?”

“No booze. Go ahead. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He picks up the glass and pauses when it’s an inch from his mouth. His eyes crinkle, telling me he’s smiling under that beard. “Does that mean Imma wake up with you beside me?”

I cock a brow. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Shit, sorry.” He chugs the contents of my glass. “I was joking. Besides, I’m so wasted, I can barely remember my name. Pretty sure I’d be useless in bed tonight. I should stop talkin’.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then motions to me. “I wouldn’t proposition you.”

I’m not sure how to respond. I go with semi-affronted, since it seems like somewhat of an insult. “Good to know.”

“Dammit. I mean, I think you might be hot. You look hot. I mean attractive. I think you’re pretty.” He tips his head to the side and blinks a few times. “You have nice eyes, all four of them are lovely.”

This time I laugh—for real—and point to the bottle. “I think you might want to tell your date you’re done for the night.”

He blows out a breath and nods. “You might be right.” He makes an attempt to stand, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, he stumbles into me and grabs my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa. Sorry. Yup, I’m definitely drunk.” His face is inches from mine, breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Beyond that, I get a whiff of fresh soap and a hint of aftershave. He lets go of my shoulders and takes an unsteady step back. “I don’t usually do this.” He motions sloppily to the bottle. “Mostly I’m a three drink max guy.”

“I think losing your father makes this condonable.” I slide off my stool. Despite being tall for a woman, and wearing heels, he still manages to be close to a head taller than me.

“Yeah, maybe, but I still think I might regret it tomorrow.” He’s incredibly unsteady, swaying while standing in place. I take the opportunity for what it is and thread my arm through his, leading him away from the bar. “Come on, let’s get you to the elevator before you pass out right here.”

He nods, then wobbles a bit, like moving his head has set him off balance. “That’s probably a good idea.”

He leans into me as we weave through the bar and stumbles on the two stairs leading to the foyer. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop him if he goes down, but I drape one of his huge arms over my shoulder anyway, and slip my own around his waist, guiding him in a mostly straight line to the elevators.

“Which floor are you on?” I ask.

“Penthouse.” He drops his arm from my shoulder and flings it out, pointing to the black doors at the end of the hall. “Jesus, I feel like I’m on a boat.”

“It’s probably all the alcohol sloshing around in your brain.” I take his elbow again, helping him stagger the last twenty feet to the dedicated penthouse elevator.

He stares at the keypad for a few seconds, brow pulling into a furrow. “I can’t remember the code. It’s thumbprint activated though too.” He stumbles forward and presses his forehead against the wall, then tries to line up his thumb with the sensor, but his aim is horrendous and he keeps missing.

I settle a hand on his very firm forearm. This man is built like a tank. Or a superhero. For a moment, I reconsider what I’m about to do, but he seems pretty harmless and ridiculously hammered, so he shouldn’t pose a threat. I’m also trained in self-defense, which would fall under the by any means necessary umbrella. “Can I help?”

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2ZBt0RL

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

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Cover Reveal!! He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by Iris Moreland

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not: A Steamy Romantic Comedy (The Flower Shop Sisters)

Author: Iris Morland

Genre: Romantic comedy

Release date: July 16, 2019

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Blurb:

 

I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman.

Oops.

I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM.

That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher.

After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body.

Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong.

Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package.

Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no.

Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love.

 

 

Goodreads:

http://irismorland.com/loves-goodreads

 

Preorder links:

Amazon: http://irismorland.com/loves-amazon

Apple: http://irismorland.com/loves-apple

Barnes & Noble: http://irismorland.com/loves-bn

Kobo: http://irismorland.com/loves-kobo

Google Play: http://irismorland.com/loves-gp

 

 

About the author:

iris morland headshot

A coffee addict and cat lover, Iris Morland is the author of over a dozen sexy, small-town romances and romantic comedies. If she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys binging on Netflix shows and cooking something delicious.

 

 

 

Connect with Iris

Newsletter: http://irismorland.com/newsletter

Reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/irismorlandsmermaids/

 

Other links:

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Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/irismorlandbooks

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BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/iris-morland

Cover Reveal!! The Judgement of Paris by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

 

 

THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS (The Odyssey Duet #2) by Dr. Rebecca Sharp
Release Date: July 9th

Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44582089-the-judgment-of-paris

 

 

PRE-ORDER NOW AVAILABLE!
AMAZON: http://bit.ly/READTheJudgmentOfParis
AMAZON UNIVERSAL: mybook.to/TheJudgmentOfParis
iBooks/Nook/Kobo: books2read.com/TheJudgmentOfParis

The judgment of Paris is the second book in the Odyssey Duet and must be read after The Fall of Troy. The Fall of Troy is available now and FREE in KU here:
Amazon UNIVERSAL: mybook.to/TheFallOfTroy

*The Judgment of Paris will be releasing in KU. If you prefer another retailer, pre-order now before the book becomes exclusive to Amazon.

 

 

Blurb:
Love is honorable but selfish. Love is a record of my wrongs.
Love had fractured in trials but held on for the truth.

And the truth was he’d hurt me, yet I loved him.
He’d left me, yet I followed him.

But I was done with Léo Baudin.
And as soon as the semester was over, I would be done with Paris.

But until then, I would learn the rest of his secrets.
The ones they whispered about behind his back. The ones that had the entire city watching his every move. The ones that held him hostage.

But to know his secrets meant to know him. And to know him was to fall further for the man who’d already hurt me so much.

I hated him for breaking my heart, but I should’ve learned by now that the things we loathe become the things we love.

And just when I thought there was nothing left to keep us apart, the ghosts of his past came back to life with a truth neither of us could’ve expected.

And lies that neither of us could’ve imagined.

As each layer unraveled, the choice between power and wisdom and love grew greater. And the consequences of our decision would be the judgment of this city.

But when all else fails, love always hopes.
Against all odds, love always perseveres.

The Judgment of Paris is the second book in the Odyssey Duet.

 

 

About the Author:
Dr. Rebecca Sharp, while using a pen name, is actually a doctor living in Pennsylvania with her husband – the love of her life.

She enjoys working in her practice with her father as well as letting her creativity run free as an author. Growing up she’s always loved a good love story and finally decided to give writing one of her own a go.

After graduating with her doctoral degree, she now enjoys spending that thing called free time traveling with her husband, cooking, and knitting.

Connect w/ Rebecca
Facebook: www.facebook.com/drrebeccasharp
Reader Group: http://bit.ly/BecomeASexySharpie
Instagram: www.instagram.com/drrebeccasharp
Twitter: www.twitter.com/drrebeccasharp
Mailing List: http://bit.ly/StaySharpSignUp
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/drrebeccasharp
Amazon: https://goo.gl/bxuLPd
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/rebecca-sharp

 

Chapter Reveal!! Making Up by Helena Hunting!!

Making Up, an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy standalone from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming July 16th and we have a sneak peek!

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Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

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Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GEt63s

AppleBooks: Coming Soon!

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/MakingUp

Nook: http://bit.ly/2IPLTvV

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2ZIrFcH

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2GFTD0b

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/MakingUpHH

Excerpt from Chapter One

Sexy Suit

Cosy

Working in an adult toy store is the opposite of glamorous. Sure, I get a fifty-percent discount, which is a real perk, but it doesn’t offset some of the weirdness I have to deal with. Such as Eugene, one of the locals who frequents the shop on a regular basis. He came in this morning and handled all the display toys. He’s mostly harmless, but the silicone fondling is pretty high on the creepy factor. Eventually I told him I had to close up for a few minutes so I could grab lunch. The deli across the street has the best daily specials.

While I wait for my chicken shawarma, I make a mental list of all the things I need to do this afternoon: check the magazines to make sure the pages aren’t stuck together, restock the flavored lube, and wipe down everything Eugene molested with toy cleaner. Once I’ve tackled those less-than-fun chores, I can work on my assignment for my hospitality class, provided I don’t have real customers.

I glance out the window, checking to make sure Eugene isn’t loitering around in front of the store, waiting to be let back in. Sometimes he’ll stop by more than once during my shift. He’s not there—thank God—but there’s a black sports car parked in the lot. It looks nice and possibly expensive, which might mean an actual customer who will spend money.

Loki, the cashier at the deli, hands me my drinks and shawarma.

“Thanks! Have a great day!”

“You too,” Loki says to my chest.

As I leave the store, I see a man in a suit reading the sign I taped to the door. I don’t want to miss a potential customer, so I take a deep breath and mentally shift gears, putting on my best sales-person mask. I have to pretend to be a completely different person when I deal with customers, so I can get through what would otherwise be a fairly embarrassing event. Discussing the ins and outs of sex toys with strangers is not something I particularly enjoy, but it’s a paycheck, so I’ve learned to roll with it.

My root beer foams and drips down the straw while my coffee sloshes onto my hand—the lids never fit right—and my chicken shawarma dangles perilously between my pinkie and ring finger as I cross the street.

The suit doesn’t look creepy like Eugene, but then, suits can be deceiving. Half the time they think they can proposition me like a sex worker. Or they pretend the weird stuff they’re buying is a gift and not for them. Pfft. I know better.

Suit turns and heads for his car, so I call out, “Hey! You in the suit, hold on!”

His shoulders hunch, as if he’s trying to be smaller, which is physically impossible. Based on the size of him, he probably played college football. Or he has Marvel comic hero blood relatives. Either way, he’s a big dude.

He stops walking, though, which is good. I could use some sales today. The commission boost is always a plus to the shitty minimum wage. Rent is due next week, and judging by his car, he has money to burn.

My heels are skyscrapers, and everything I’m wearing is either too short or too tight to facilitate running—the Sex Toy Warehouse uniform is supposed to be sexy, aka revealing—so I awkwardly jog the rest of the way while trying to get the key to the shop out of my pocket and not drop my shawarma. The manager gave me my own set since I frequently open the store.

“Sorry to keep you waiting; plastic dicks don’t quite cut it for lunch.” Inwardly I cringe, because seriously, why did I say that?

“I would imagine they’re not all that satisfying,” he replies in a deep voice that would probably sound good whispering naughty things in my ear.

I’m not sure if he meant that suggestively or not. Regardless, I walked right into that one.

I finally look up. Dear sweet Jesus on a cloud of marshmallows, this is my lucky day. The suit is gorgeous. Like the kind of hotness that sucks the breath right out of your lungs and sends all the blood in your body rushing between your legs. It’s a good thing clits don’t react like penises, otherwise mine would be hanging out of the bottom of my shorts with excitement. I’m thankful my physical reaction is limited to damp underwear and tingles.

His dark hair is straight and cut short, parted at the side and neatly styled. He’s a cross between a mobster, and a fifties movie star. Capone and Ward Cleaver rolled together and dipped in lust. His nose is straight, lips are full, and he’s got a chin that looks like it could cut glass. His features are strong, but he somehow manages to be boyish even though everything about him screams pure, undiluted masculinity.

His tongue drags across his pillowy bottom lip and his throat bobs. I lift my gaze and meet his eyes. They’re a strange color. Not brown, not green, but some kind of honey-lemon color, ringed in emerald. Like a cat maybe.

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2KO3Mf6

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5
Facebook Fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/385795934890523/
Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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Cover Reveal!! Lie For A Lie by Helena Hunting

From the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series comes a romantic comedy about instant attraction, second chances, and not-so-little white lies.

A Lie for a Lie from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming October 15th, and we have the sexy cover!

Hunting-A Lie for a Lie-28155-CV-FT.jpg

Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.

A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

A LIE FOR A LIE FB.jpg

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KeBlqZ

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ALieforLie

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2MTMWOC

Audio: https://amzn.to/2KM4CZF

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2MJpbIG

Photography by Regina Wamba

Model: Robb

About Helena Hunting

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

 

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting

Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5

Facebook Fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/385795934890523/

Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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Excerpt Reveal!! Ask My Why by Harloe Rae

 

 

ASK MY WHY by Harloe Rae
Release Date: June 20, 2019
Genre: Contemporary romance (Enemies to lovers, single father)

 

Sign Up for Ask Me Why LIVE ALERT
http://bit.ly/AMWalert

 

 

Add to Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45007201-ask-me-why

 

 

Blurb
One deep breath. Two slow blinks. Three hollow beats.
I’m still here.

After three years, that reminder isn’t as necessary. But everyone has their bad days. This is definitely one of them.

Until an adorable little boy dashes into my store.
His zest for life makes me smile in a way that’s been long lost.

Then I meet his father.
Well, confront is more like it.

Brance Stone is volatile.
Offensive.
Harsh.
And can’t be bothered to care.

Not that I want him to.
I get frostbite just looking into Brance’s glacial stare. But there’s something undeniable about him.

My misery suddenly craves company. The suffocating numbness lifts whenever Brance is near. That alone should have me running in the opposite direction. Try as I might, there’s no avoiding him. If only I could understand why. As if he’d let me.

I don’t ask. He doesn’t tell. A silent, bitter truce settles between us.
That was our first mistake.
It’s certainly not the last.

 

 

EXCERPT REVEAL: Ask Me Why by Harloe Rae
Copyright © 2019 by Harloe Rae, LLC
“Need a camera?”

I startle at the harsh growl. “Huh?”

“Then you can take a picture.” His frosty blue eyes narrow on me, and I’m frozen in place.

“Excuse me?” Why is my voice so breathy?

“It’ll last longer.” He raises a dark brow.

Clarity seeps into my stupor, and the urge to tuck tail streaks through me. But I don’t. I raise my chin and openly appraise him. “I like your suit.”

“It’s custom fit.”

“Looks that way.”

He crosses his arms and stands straighter. “You’re not my type, taffy girl.”

I fight the urge to scratch my temple, being stumped again. “Okay?”

“Stare all you want. It’ll get you nowhere.” He points between us. “Never gonna happen.”

For a moment, all I can do is gape at him. I feel my face go up in flames. Is he for freaking real?

“I w-wasn’t… no, I didn’t mean,” I sputter. “I’m not hitting on you.”

His smirk is devilish. “Save it for the judge, sugar. I get it.”

Before I can defend myself, Ollie zips toward us and smiles at me. “Do you like my dad?”

Everything inside of me skids to a stop. I pop my mouth open, but nothing comes out. My throat is a tight fist, and swallowing is a challenge. How the hell do I respond to that?

I tug at the collar of my shirt. “Uh, well, we haven’t really met. I don’t even know his name.”

Ollie’s gaze bounces between us. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.” There’s no hesitation. Throwing this cocky dick under the bus is an easy decision.

The ass glares at me. “We didn’t get that far.”

Ollie shakes a finger at his dad. “That’s not polite. You’re supposed to do introductions first. That’s what you taught me.”

He remains silent, thoroughly scolded by a child. Ollie huffs loudly. I lift a hand to cover my growing smile. Something tells me this imposing man wouldn’t appreciate my humor.

“Brance Stone,” he finally offers. A weaker woman might wither under that icy stare. Too bad for him, I’m all out of shits to give.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Braelyn Miller.” I plaster on an extra wide grin for good measure.

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “Likewise.”

 

 

About the Author
Harloe Rae is a USA Today & Amazon Top 100 bestselling author. Her passion for writing and reading has taken on a whole new meaning. Each day is an unforgettable adventure.

Harloe is a Minnesota gal with a serious addiction to romance. She’s always chasing an epic happily ever after. When she’s not buried in the writing cave, Harloe can be found hanging with her hubby and son. If the weather permits, she loves being lakeside or out in the country with her horses.

Harloe is the author of Redefining Us, Forget You Not, Watch Me Follow, GENT, MISS, LASS, and Ask Me Why. These titles are available on Amazon.

 

Connect w/Harloe
BookBub: http://bit.ly/HarloeBB
Amazon: http://bit.ly/HarloeOnAmazon
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/HarloeOnGR
Facebook Page: http://Facebook.com/authorharloerae
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/harloerae/
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Book & Main: https://bookandmainbites.com/harloerae
Find all the latest on her site: www.harloe-rae.blog
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Join her reader group, Harloe’s Hotties: http://www.facebook.com/harloehotties

 

 

 

Cover Reveal!! Coming Up Roses by Staci Hart

Coming Up Roses, an all-new enemies to lovers romantic comedy from Staci Hart is coming August 1st, and we have the beautiful cover!

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Everyone hates parts of their job.

Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.

But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.

Except for Luke Bennet.

The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint.

When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him.

Almost.

He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

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About Staci

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

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