Read an excerpt from A Charmed Little Lie by Sharla Lovelace

/

Lanie Barrett didn’t mean to lie. Spinning a story of a joyous marriage to make a dying woman happy is forgivable, isn’t it? Lanie thinks so, especially since her beloved Aunt Ruby would have been heartbroken to know the truth of her niece’s sadly loveless, short-of-sparkling existence. Trouble is, according to the will, Ruby didn’t quite buy Lanie’s tale. And to inherit the only house Lanie ever really considered a home, she’ll have to bring her “husband” back to Charmed, Texas for three whole months—or watch Aunt Ruby’s cozy nest go to her weasel cousin, who will sell it to a condo developer.

Nick McKane is out of work, out of luck, and the spitting image of the man Lanie described. He needs money for his daughter’s art school tuition, and Lanie needs a convenient spouse. It’s a match made . . . well, not quite in heaven, but for a temporary arrangement, it couldn’t be better. Except the longer Lanie and Nick spend as husband and wife, the more the connection between them begins to seem real. Maybe this modern fairy tale really could come true . . .

Excerpt

I didn’t look back, and I didn’t care. Nick’s hand was warm in mine, and when we reached the dance floor they’d cleared a space for, he tugged back gently to make me turn around. The look in those dark eyes nearly took out my knees. He pulled me into his arms, leaving no room for imagination, and I let my hands slide up his chest to his neck, and around back as his eyelids grew heavy.

Roberta Flack crooned softly, the first time…ever I saw your face… And something in me went warm from head to toe. Something besides whatever was in that punch. Something more real than that.

“Nice save.”

“I tried.”

“How was the punch?” he asked.

I wound my fingers into his hair and pulled his head down.

“See for yourself,” I said, the last word finished against his lips.

Sparks ignited throughout my body as our lips met. Soft. Slow. Wet. Needing. Our bodies moved as one with the music, so close, so tightly pressed together I could feel his heart beating. My hands traveled slowly back down his chest and around his middle as his came up into my hair. When his tongue ran over my top lip, I knew he could feel my gasp. And when I pulled him in deeper to taste him, I felt the low growl in his chest rumbling against mine.

His fingers twisted in my hair as he dove deep and then pulled back, deep again and back, teasing me, pulling back to kiss my lips one at a time, as I kept clinging tighter. I was drunk on it. Breathing shallow. My fingers curling into his shirt with the need for more.

The first time…ever I kissed…your lips…

It was erotic, the way he kissed me. The way I kissed him. Slow, matching our movements. Intimate. Electric and emotional at the same time. And so full of desire and barely restrained need, that my body was trembling with it when he held my face and leaned his forehead against mine.

I wanted to keep my eyes closed. Absorb the feel of him, the song, the words, the taste. Just hold on to it a little longer. But I felt the heat of his gaze and my eyes fluttered open. And everything inside me turned to liquid fire. No one—ever—had looked at me like that. Had wanted me like that. The mirror image of what was churning inside me was all over him. In the desire mixed with the trouble haunting his eyes. This wasn’t the game. That thought hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. This was—

His mouth covered mine again, hungrier, hotter, and I melted into it. The burn in my chest at the realization of just how fucking real this was, stole at my breath, and I didn’t care. It was more than we were supposed to be doing but—God, it was so good. It was so good my heart felt like it was swelling to the size of the room. Wrapping around us as his hands cradled my face and he broke from the kiss, moving his lips along my face, my cheeks, back to my lips, both of us breathing fast. It was more. Nick was giving me the more. It wasn’t just physical; it was bursting inside me.

When he pulled me to him, I buried my face in his neck and held him as tightly as I could as the words slowed to an end. I didn’t want it to be over. I didn’t want to let go.

I could hear my heart in my ears, pounding with every breath. He smelled like soap and something woodsy and Nick, and I always knew that but being up close enough to lick him made the smell intoxicating.

The music stopped.

 The lighting was changing. I had to let go of him, and the second I moved he backed up too. Just a little. Just enough for me to see the mouth I’d just gotten to know intimately. His gaze fell to my lips as well, before dragging up to my eyes. Things had changed. In the course of time it took for that song to make its evolution, our reality had shifted. And the real kicker was that I think we both knew it already had.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Sharla Lovelace is the bestselling, award-winning author of sexy small-town love stories. Being a Texas girl through and through, she’s proud to say she lives in Southeast Texas with her retired husband, a tricked-out golf cart, and two crazy dogs.  She is the author of five stand-alone novels including the bestselling Don’t Let Go, the exciting Heart Of The Storm series, and the fun and sexy new Charmed in Texas series.

For more about Sharla's books, visit www.sharlalovelace.com, and keep up with all her new book releases easily by subscribing to her newsletter.  She loves keeping up with her readers, and you can connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Connect:  WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

Read an excerpt from Silk & Scholar by Cassandra Dean

/

Most ladies dream of finding a husband, but Etta Wilding-Marsh dreams of the law. Establishing a law school for women is the determined firebrand’s dearest ambition and she has no time for distraction—and certainly no time for the wickedly handsome antagonist from her youth.

After years of annoying her from afar, Lord Christopher Hiddleston leaps at the chance to return to Cambridge and the fiery girl he has never forgotten. Now a successful Gothic novelist, Christopher will use his notoriety to support the school...and drive Etta wild.

A chance meeting leads to another, and then the firebrand and the antagonist find a passion of a different sort. But can a woman who dreams too much and a man who never does truly find a happily ever after?

Excerpt

Looking at him now, resting exhausted in a chair, that same feeling rushed over her, threaded with concern and a desire to care for him, to make it so the exhaustion left his features and he again turned that wicked grin upon her. “I will work with you.”

Christopher opened one eye.

Etta lifted her chin. Uncertainty made her falter, and she despised faltering. “I will work with you. On your lady detective.”

Both eyes snapped open. “You will?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

The most glorious smile lit his face.

Quickly, she averted her gaze. You have no call to think his smile glorious, Etta Wilding-Marsh. Get your mind back where it belongs. Crossing her arms, she affected a glare. “It had better not be claptrap.”

“It won’t.” He straightened in the chair, the tiredness falling away. “It will be the very best I can make it. And it will be even better with you to ensure I don’t fall to lazy habits.”

He truly did esteem her opinion. He spoke and his lips formed words, the upper thin and well-defined, the points forming a sharp bow. His lower lip was full, generous and…and she shouldn’t be thinking of his lips.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Cassandra Dean is the author of historical romance ranging from sweet to steamy, playing about in the eras, roaming from Ancient Rome to Victorian to the Old West and beyond. Her books take readers on an emotional rollercoaster, from the lowest of lows to the joyous of highs. And, of course, her characters fall into the forever kind of love. 

Cassandra is proud to call South Australia her home, where she regularly cheers on her AFL football team and creates her next tale.

Connect: Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Tumbler

Read an exclusive excerpt from The Hangman by Mary Burton

/

Julia Vargas is a cop with a mission. When she’s not chasing down bad guys, Julia dedicates her time to investigating the Hangman serial killer…the same unsolved case that her father, Jim Vargas, was working on when he supposedly shot and killed himself three decades before. While rumors continue to swirl around her father’s death, Julia attempts to hunt down the truth.

The case once again hits dangerously close, however, when a woman’s bones are discovered in a historic downtown home, together with a photograph of Jim and Julia as a young girl. As horrifying as this discovery is, it may just be the break Julia has waited for. Working alongside Tobias Novak, a homicide detective with whom she shares a complicated—and steamy—history, she’s forced to confront her own past even as the Hangman looms in the shadows. But as the mysterious killer circles closer, Julia can feel her own noose begin to tighten…

Excerpt

“You’re off in a big rush.” The deep timbre of Novak’s voice stopped her midstep on her way to the SUV. She turned to find him leaning against a parked car.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Thought I’d stop by.” He looked toward the sky like he was taking in the morning sun. “Where are you headed?”

“Running an errand. And yeah, I’m kinda in a rush.”

He slowly glanced around, making sure they were alone. “Does your urgency have anything to do with the noose you found in the alley?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I arrived about two minutes before you came downstairs.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“I know.” He rose to his full six-foot-plus height. “Were you going to tell me about it?”

She was tall for a woman, but he was a good four inches taller than her and was pressing on the edge of her personal space. “Not sure there’s anything to tell.”

“Really? You don’t see the significance?”

Her fingers tightened around the shoulder strap of the backpack. “Look, I can take care of myself. And again, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Cindy. She said she’d get those other pictures of you and your father.”

“She didn’t mention you were coming.”

“Seems communication is not a strong suit in your family.”

“Appears not.”

Cindy arrived with an old box. “Detective Novak, I found the pictures.”

“Where were they?” Julia was a little annoyed her aunt had not mentioned Novak’s visit while they’d been in the alley.

“Attic of my house. Back corner. Really tucked away.” She set the dusty box on the hood of the SUV. “These are all the pictures taken while your dad was still alive. When he passed, your mom didn’t want them around, so I boxed them up and put them away. I wasn’t a fan of Jimmy Vargas, but he was your father and I thought that one day you’d want these.”

Julia let her backpack slide to the pavement and opened the box. “I’ve never seen these.” She’d learned at an early age that mentioning her father to her mother or aunt triggered the same response. Time hadn’t changed much.

The first set of pictures was of her as an infant. She was about three months old, and her dad had long hair and a beard.

“He was working undercover then,” Cindy said. “He came home every few weeks to see you two. But he was also gone a lot.”

Feeling a rush of unwelcome emotion, she set the picture aside and dug for the stack that would have been taken at the park. Midway through the pile, she spotted the park location. She handed them off to Novak, not wanting to do the digging. “Here are your pictures.”

He took them. “I’ll get them back to you.”

“Keep ’em.”

“No. I’ll get them back to you.” Novak carefully stacked the photos and placed them back in the envelope. “We are working the same case, Julia.”

We. He spoke about them as if they were a team. The last time she’d been a part of a team, she’d nearly gotten killed.

“Thanks, but I have Shield helping me.”

“Computer work doesn’t take the place of legwork,” he said.

“What about your caseload?” she challenged.

“I’ve doubled up before.” A wry grin tugged at his lips. “We make a good team.”

“I’m not a team player, if you haven’t noticed.”

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling novelist Mary Burton is the highly praised author of twenty-six romance and suspense novels and five novellas. She lives in Virginia with her husband and three miniature dachshunds.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Spotlight: Caught Looking by Jody Holford

/

Sometimes loving enough means letting go…

Major league baseball player, Ryan Walker, takes a mandatory leave of absence to escape the paparazzi and the false drug charges against him. All he wants is a little peace of mind out in the middle of nowhere.

Eager to rid herself of the empty socialite life, Frankie Vaughn moves to a rundown home in Minnesota that she inherited from her aunt. But Frankie is shocked at what she discovers inside: three young boys. When Ryan discovers that Frankie, his new neighbor, has taken on the three homeless kids as her own, he has a new hope for humanity.

Despite how easily and lovingly Ryan takes to Frankie and the boys, his past just might be the reason Frankie can't adopt the boys. Now, Ryan must choose between loving them or letting them go. Can he walk away from what he's been looking for all along?

Excerpt

As he edged near the property line, he caught sight of toned, shapely legs swinging from the branch of a tree. His neighbor was doing pull-ups. On a tree.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan said the words to himself, his finger sliding off of the trigger. Frankie hadn’t heard him. Her earbuds’ cord was connected to the iPod strapped to her arm. He repeated his question, louder, and she startled, dropping from the limb she’d been holding. Pulling her earphones out, she smiled and gave a surprised laugh. Lust curled tight in his stomach at the sound. Which pissed him off since he didn’t need more complications in his life.

“Hey. Didn’t see you there, neighbor.”

She wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. Strands of hair were escaping the ponytail sitting high on her head. She put her hands on her hips, gulping in air, still smiling. His eyes roamed over the tone and definition of her arms. Arms weren’t supposed to be a turn on. They were just something to have wrapped around you. Along with legs. But legs were a turn on. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her arms. They led up to sleek shoulders and a graceful collarbone. When his eyes met hers, she was grinning and he knew he’d been caught looking.

“You’re doing pull-ups on a goddamn tree?”

“Um, it’s my tree,” she said, looking back and forth between him and the tree. Small as she was, the tree didn’t look like it could hold its own branches, never mind a person’s weight.

“Actually, it’s smack in the middle of our property line. So stay the hell off it and get a pull-up bar.”

She rested a hand on the bark and smiled at him with something like fire flashing in those blue eyes. Her breath was a bit uneven, but firm. “I’ve never shared a tree with anyone. It feels like a big step.”

He bit back a smile. “Funny. This tree needs to be cut down. It’s rotted.” He kicked at the trunk to show her what he meant.

“Don’t kick our tree,” she said, not even trying to hide her smirk.

“It’s not safe.” Jesus. She was hard to be irritated with. Which, oddly, only irritated him more.

“And as much as I appreciate your neighborly concern, Ryan, I can take care of myself. And our tree. See, my home gym isn’t quite set up yet so I’m using what’s available. If you want, we can work out a schedule for tree use.”

There was as much sarcasm in her stance as in her tone. This time, the grin spread before he could stop it.

“You’re feisty.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Yeah. But it’s still not safe. I have an extra pull-up bar in my garage. You put it in the frame of a doorway. I’ll grab it and bring it over,” he said, hoping the gesture served as an apology.

Which he was man enough to admit she deserved from him.

Frankie’s eyes widened and she took a step back, wariness overshadowing her amusement.

“No thanks. I’m not ready for visitors.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on coming for tea.”

She gave a rough laugh. “I don’t need anything from you, Ryan. I’ll pick another tree. Or do push-ups.”

She backed away, the unease in her eyes fascinating the hell out of him. She didn’t want him over. And not because he was a jerk. She waved one perfectly shaped arm over her head as she went back to her house.

He turned the weed trimmer back on, purposely turning his body in the other direction. He wasn’t going to stand around and watch her go, even across her yard. He’d never watch a woman leave again. Once was enough.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

Jody Holford is a multi-published author who has a soft spot for happily ever after. So much so, she tattooed the words on her arm. She’s a mom and a wife, a friend, sister, daughter, teacher, and book-lover. Her stories have a little bit of heat and a lot of heart. And maybe, some swoon-worthy moments that will make you smile.

Connect: WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

Spotlight: To Have and to Hold by Arell Rivers

/

Rally around Cole Manchester and Rose Morgan: the rock star and his publicist are about to face their most perilous trials yet. Cole and Rose’s passionate love story culminates in this third full-length novel in The Hold Series.
 
Back in the spotlight for his world tour, Cole Manchester performs hit after hit before delighted fans. However, his heart remains firmly in Los Angeles with Rose, whose condition remains critical following their terrible car wreck.
 
After lying unconscious for weeks, Rose Morgan awakens to find herself professionally and personally adrift. Her scrambled memories have convinced her Cole is dangerous, compelling her to shut him out and face an uncertain future on her own.
 
With nothing left to lose, Cole’s crazed stalker executes her final desperate act. After an explosive finale, who will survive her deadly rampage?
 
Destinies will be altered. Intentions stripped bare. Rose and Cole must face all of their remaining demons if their love is to survive. In the trilogy’s thrilling conclusion, they’ll discover if they truly have each other forever To Have and To Hold.

Excerpt

Grabbing a Lakers cap from the backseat, I shove it on my head and race into the main entrance, Jared at my heels. The guy at security asks for my identification, which I hand him. Jared turns his over to the other security guy.

After checking my face against the photo, he asks, “Who are you visiting today, Mr. Manchester?”

“Rose Morgan, I mean Bloomer.”

He nods and flips some pages. I tap a beat on my leg. Hurry up. He glances at the clock on the wall and says, “I’ll clear you, but you only have twenty minutes before visiting hours are over.”

Jared gets his clearance as I’m retrieving my driver’s license. We sprint through the lobby to the elevator. I repeatedly press the call button. Finally, a cab arrives and whisks us up to the fifth-floor lobby. Her floor.

Roberto stands when he sees us. I wave at him, but don’t have time to check in. I run to the small security booth at the entrance to the restricted wing. This officer checks my pass from the first checkpoint, makes a notation on it and nods. He presses a button and the door buzzes open. As soon as it’s almost wide enough, I rush down the hall and come to a halt outside her door.

The door is open. Pop music plays softly in the room.

For some reason, now that I’m here, I can’t put one foot in front of another to cross the threshold. It’s like I’ve been turned to stone, and only my rapidly beating heart distinguishes me from one of those marble statues in the Tuileries. I want to see her so badly. But, I don’t want her to be lying lifeless on a hospital bed. I want my Rose back.

Over the PA system, a woman announces fifteen minutes until the end of visiting hours. I need to go to my girlfriend and talk to her, even if I’m the only one doing the talking. Inhaling, I step through the door.

And freeze.

Facing the windows by the bed, a woman with long, limp brown hair is standing with her back to me. Her leg’s in a cast. She’s dancing. Well, sort of.

“Rose?”

The woman turns around.

Holy. Fuck.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

For as long as I can remember, I have been lost in a book. During my senior year in college, I picked up a Danielle Steel novel … and instantly was hooked on romance.

I started writing my first novel, No One to Hold, because the characters were screaming at me to do so. The story started coming out in my dreams and attacking me in the shower, so I took to the computer to shut them up. But they kept talking.

Born and raised in New Jersey, I have what some may call a “checkered past.” Prior to discovering my passion for writing romance, I practiced law, was a wedding and event planner and even dabbled in marketing. I live with a very supportive husband and two mischievous cats. When not in my writing cave, I can be found making dinner in the crock pot, working out with Shaun T or hitting the beach.

I hope you enjoy my stories about driven men, strong women and the passions that ignite!

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Spotlight: Unfinished Night: The Complete Duet by Violet Duke

/

BEFORE THAT NIGHT

Before that night, Addison Milan had been just a college dropout secretly raising her two young siblings in a beat-up minivan she'd bought with her first semester's tuition refund--the only money her addict mother hadn't taken off with when she'd abandoned them nearly two years ago.

Before that night, Caine Spencer had been just a rough, gruff cop sent to check out the phoned-in claims of suspected child neglect involving the same woman he'd met just months prior when she'd first served him the city's worst diner coffee...which he'd been drinking daily ever since.

Before that night, Addison would never have thought the man she'd been fighting hard not to fall for--her only friend in her new shadow of a life--would be in a position to rip her family apart.

Before that night, Caine would never have believed any woman could make him fall head over heels, let alone make him feel so damn compelled to look the other way when it came to his job.

Then that one perfect night changed everything.

EVERY NIGHT WITHOUT YOU

Seven years

 Seven damn years of wondering whether the woman was still alive...whether she'd spent the last two thousand five hundred fifty-five days wondering if he was still alive.

Wondering whether that night was as burned into her memory as it was his.

Seven years having his heart tethered to Addison―and now she's back. With even more reasons to run than she'd had then.

Only this time, Caine isn't letting the gorgeous little flight risk out of his sight.

Regardless of how noble her reasons may be.

Excerpt

Caine stopped with his hand on the doorknob and studied her for a bit, with those deep, stormy eyes of his that always saw too much, read her too well.  Then, he quietly pushed open the door to the darkened room and walked in.  

But he made no move to flick on the light switch.  

Instead, he simply stood there, just inside the doorway, holding the door open for her silently, waiting for her to decide if she wanted to go into the pitch-blackness with him.

Addison knew the choice to step over that threshold, into the unknown, was symbolic of so much more than what he was asking in that moment…a fact she was certain hadn’t escaped him.

He didn’t back down.  But he didn’t push, either.

“Alec thinks there’s no way you and I can be friends,” she whispered, in a feeble attempt to keep them away from a ledge they’d be tempted to jump off of, where there would be no coming back from.  “This is sort of an experiment he’s conducting to prove his hypothesis.”

“Did I mention I hated that ‘just friends’ idea from the start?”

Yeah.  Her too.

“You want to know what I was thinking about when you suggested it?” he continued, reaching up to put his forearm against the door jamb, crowding the opening with his broad, six-foot frame.

She shouldn’t.  No good could possibly come from being allowed inside Caine Spencer’s head.  “Yes.”

The gravelly rumble of his voice turned hypnotic.  “I was remembering how those soft, sexy sounds you’d make when I’d kiss you on your neck—right where that new tattoo is—would test me, nearly break me of my control every time.”

When his eyes began tracing intently over the lines of her tattoo, the air in her lungs thinned, and slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

His jaw tightened, and his forearms flexed.  Once.  Twice.  Before his voice dropped a full octave lower.  “A test.  Every. Single. Time.”

Oh God, she wasn’t going to make it.

He took a step back.

She followed him in.

Buy on Amazon | Barnes and Noble

About the Author

NEW YORK TIMES & USA TODAY bestselling author Violet Duke is a former professor of English Education ecstatic to be on the other side of the page now writing emotion-rich stories with fun, everyday characters and sweet, sexy match-ups. Since her debut series in 2013, over a million readers have put all four of Violet's laugh & cry contemporary romance series on bestseller lists and Top 10 charts across the major eretailers, both in the U.S. and internationally.
 
 When she isn't feeding her book-a-day addiction, Violet enjoys doing far too many things without checking the directions first (often with outrageous power tools she has no business operating), and cooking impossible-to-replicate 'special edition' dishes that laugh in the face of recipes. She lives in Hawai'i with her kids (Violet & Duke) and Mr. Violet Duke (their ringleader), with a PJs-and-rubber-slippers work dress code she takes very seriously.

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads