Excerpt Reveal: Ready to Run by Lauren Layne

The Bachelor meets The Runaway Bride in this addictive romance novel about a reality TV producer falling for her would-be star: a Montana heartthrob who wants nothing to do with the show.

Jordan Carpenter thinks she’s finally found the perfect candidate for Jilted, a new dating show about runaway grooms: Luke Elliott, a playboy firefighter who’s left not one but three brides at the altar. The only problem? Luke refuses to answer Jordan’s emails or return her calls. Which is how she ends up on a flight to Montana to recruit him in person. It’s not Manhattan but at least the locals in Lucky Hollow seem friendly . . . except for Luke, who’s more intense—and way hotter—than the slick womanizer Jordan expected.

Eager to put the past behind him, Luke has zero intention of following this gorgeous, fast-talking city girl back to New York. But before he can send her packing, Jordan’s everywhere: at his favorite bar, the county fair, even his exes’ book club. Annoyingly, everyone in Lucky Hollow seems to like her—and deep down, she’s starting to grow on him too. But the more he fights her constant pestering, the more Luke finds himself wishing that Jordan would kick off her high heels and make herself comfortable in his arms.

Exclusive Excerpt

Damn. Charlie hadn’t been lying about the hot blonde.

The woman walking straight toward him was all tight jeans, high heels, and confi-dence. And hot. Very, very hot.

Charlie muttered something admiring under his breath, and Luke’s gaze flicked to the man beside the woman. Tried to place him. Couldn’t.

Not too many guys around here who wore light-purple shirts and white pants with the same easy comfort that Lucky Hollow residents wore jeans and flannel.

No doubt about it—neither was from around here. Not by a long shot.

The man was a half step behind the woman, and Luke assessed that the woman was calling the shots.

His eyes narrowed as he realized that she hadn’t once wavered in her approach.

She knew what she was after:

Him.

She got closer and Luke saw that the face matched the body. Wide blue eyes, full lips, sassy shoulder-length blond hair that was just tousled enough to make a man wonder how it had gotten that way—to want to be the one to muss it.

Her gaze flicked over him, and Charlie whistled and muttered under his breath. “She just checked you out, man.”

She had indeed, but Luke was far from flattered. It hadn’t been the assessment of a woman checking out a man so much as a predator evaluating its prey.

As though she was evaluating him for . . . something.

Blondie stopped in front of him, and the second her blue eyes locked on his, Luke felt a little jolt of awareness and was irrationally annoyed. It had been a long time since he’d been quite so aware of a woman.

Once, he’d enjoyed the feeling—sexual chemistry was almost the perfect combination of pain and pleasure. A subtle punch in the gut that you wanted to experience again and again.

These days, though, he was having a hard time getting past the pain part. The shitty parts had outweighed the good parts just one time too many. Now he mostly settled for casual hookups with a divorcée a few towns over who was even less interested in com-mitment than Luke was.

He had zero use for attraction to a pretty, bold woman in high heels.

Luke noticed that for a sheer moment she had a slightly off-balance look, as though she too had felt the annoying zip of arousal when their eyes met, but she recovered quick-ly.

Pasting a sunny, generic smile on her face, she stuck out her right hand. “Luke Elliott. I’m Jordan Carpenter. This is my colleague, Simon Nash.”

Good manners had him setting down his equipment and extending his own right hand toward hers even as his brain caught on her name. Familiar, and . . .

Shit. Shit!

He managed to stop from jerking his hand back, but just barely. Instead, he gritted his teeth, gave her hand a perfunctory shake, and then fixed her with a glare. “You’re wasting your time, Ms. Carpenter. And mine.”

Blue eyes narrowed. “Aha. So you did get my emails.”

Those. The voicemails. The letters.

“Sure,” he said with a nod, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Just like I suspect you got the message that I didn’t want to be a part of your show.”

Charlie looked from the woman to Luke and back again. “Show?”

Ryan ambled over, his shit-eating grin telling Luke that this damn woman had already spilled the beans on why she was here. “Luke’s gonna be a national heartthrob.”

“International,” said the blond guy in the purple shirt.

Jordan Carpenter didn’t look at her companion, but all three firefighters did.

The other man gave the sort of easy smile that probably had him making friends easily. Luke didn’t want a new friend.

Especially not one who wanted to use his shitty romantic past for the sake of TV ratings.

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About the Author

Lauren Layne is the New York Times bestselling author of romantic comedies. She lives in New York City with her husband.

A former e-commerce and web marketing manager from Seattle, Lauren relocated to New York City in 2011 to pursue a full-time writing career. She signed with her agent in 2012, and her first book was published in summer of 2013. Since then, she's written over two dozen books, hitting the USA TODAY, New York Times, iBooks, and Amazon bestseller lists.

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Spotlight: The Last Gambit by Om Swami

Success by design is infinitely better than a win by chance. Vasu Bhatt is fourteen years old when a mysterious old man spots him at a chess tournament and offers to coach him, on two simple but strange conditions: he would not accompany his student to tournaments, and there was to be no digging into his past. Initially resentful, Vasu begins to gradually understand his master’s mettle.

Over eight years, master and student come to love and respect each other, but the two conditions remain unbroken – until Vasu confronts and provokes the old man. Meanwhile, their hard work and strategy pay off: Vasu qualifies for the world chess championship. But can he make it all the way without his master by his side?

Inspiring, moving and mercurial, The Last Gambit is a beautiful coming of age tale in a uniquely Indian context.

Excerpt

‘You are a genius, Vasu,’ he said. ‘I’m investing all my time in you because I know some day you’ll surprise everyone, including yourself.’ My chest swelled with pride. ‘And that day is not far,’ he added. I felt as if I had won the world championship. He thinks I’m a genius! I couldn’t contain my smile and adjusted myself in my couch. ‘But,’ he said, gently bringing me down a notch, ‘you are not consistent. You do play some brilliant moves, but they don’t add up.’ As always, he had a nugget of wisdom. ‘Every move, Vasu, every move must put greater pressure on your opponent. To win, you must play good moves and do so consistently.’ ‘The same goes in life too,’ he continued. ‘A consistent and persistent man of average intelligence is more likely to succeed than an erratic and lazy genius. A hundred well played draws, or a hundred lost but well-fought games are better than one victory by fluke. Success by design is infinitely better than a win by chance.’
Success by design is infinitely better than a win by chance – this got etched in my mind. This was it. The missing link. I had been playing in the hope that success would come, that it would just happen. It dawned on me that success was a sculpture that I had to carve and chisel at patiently. I had to design my success.

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About the Author

Om Swami is a monk who lives in a remote place in the Himalayan foothills. He has a bachelor degree in business and an MBA from Sydney, Australia. Swami served in executive roles in large corporations around the world. He founded and led a profitable software company with offices in San Francisco, New York, Toronto, London, Sydney and India. 

Om Swami completely renounced his business interests to pursue a more spiritual life. He is the bestselling author of Kundalini: An Untold Story, A Fistful of Love and If Truth Be Told: A Monk’s Memoir. 

His blog omswami.com is read by millions all over the world.

Spotlight: Casanova's Secret Wife by Barbara Lynn-Davis

Set in eighteenth-century Venice and based on an actual account by Giacomo Casanova—here is a lush tale of desire and risk.

Caterina Capreta was an innocent girl of fourteen when she caught the attention of the world’s most infamous chronicler of seduction: Giacomo Casanova. Intoxicated by a fierce love, she wed Casanova in secret. But his shocking betrayal inspired her to commit an act that would mark her forever …

Now twenty years later on the island of Murano, the woman in possession of Caterina’s most devastating secret has appeared with a request she cannot refuse: to take in a noble-born girl whose scandalous love affair resembles her own. But the girl’s presence stirs up unwelcome memories of Caterina’s turbulent past. Tested like never before, she reveals the story of the man she will never forget.

Bringing to life a fascinating chapter in the history of Venice, Casanova’s Secret Wife is a tour de force that charts one woman’s journey through love and loss to redemption.

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

The Island of Murano in the Lagoon of Venice

March of 1774

Caterina Capreta perched on a chair in the chilly room where it seemed no spring came.  She forced herself to meet the frightening gaze of Abbess Marina Morosini, her old friend and rival, who sat behind an elaborate scroll-leg desk.  Gilt bronze vines climbed up its shiny redwood legs, as if it were on fire.

The abbess gave a nod.  “Caterina, I am pleased you have returned to visit us at the convent.  How long has it been?”

Caterina couldn’t help staring at Marina’s ruined beauty.  Her waxy skin pulled tight across her cheekbones.  Her eyes, once blue-green, had lost their color.  She was dressed in a black tunic, black veil, and white wimple that covered her ears, neck, and hair.  All the forbidden vanities Marina had indulged in when she was young to the veil—the jeweled hairpins, long fingernails, even the rose perfume that had seemed to breathe from the very folds of her garments—were gone.  

Caterina’s mouth was dry, but she forced herself to speak.  “I believe it is almost twenty years.”  

Marina sipped water from a goblet.  “Twenty years . . . yes . . . such a long time.  As I explained in my letter, a situation has arisen at the convent that brought you to mind.”

“I’m flattered you still think of me,” Caterina said.  As if Marina could ever forget her.  “But I can’t imagine how I might be of any help—you are the abbess now, after all.  And I know so little about spiritual matters.”  Caterina bowed her head, as if warding off a coming blow.

“I haven’t asked you here to counsel me on spiritual matters,” Marina said, barely hiding her irritation.  “I have an unfortunate problem on my hands with a young boarder—sixteen years old.  She was brought here by her father a month ago.  The mother is dead.  He offered me a sack of gold zecchini to take her in.  How could I refuse?”

Caterina dared to look up but said nothing, knowing how these things went.  The girls weren’t so much left off at the convents for religious reasons, as for safekeeping.

“Only she is pregnant.  He neglected to tell me that part.”  Marina’s voice was mocking.  “Instead, he sat in that chair showing me old coins and cameos he collects out of the ground.  He called himself an antiquarian.  He was on his way to Constantinople and said he couldn’t possibly take his daughter there—given the depravity of the heathens.  He pleaded for my help.”

At the mention of a pregnancy, Caterina’s gut had started to ache.  But she remained silent, hoping she was wrong about where this was heading.  

“I can’t keep Leda at Santa Maria degli Angeli any longer,” Marina announced, confirming her fears.  “It would cause a scandal.  Of course you understand.”

Caterina nodded.  Of course she did.

“I need to remove her from the convent until the thing is done.  So I asked myself—who would be willing to take in a girl in Leda’s situation—quietly, and with discretion?  And then, I thought of you.”

“Marina,” Caterina begged.  In her mind she was already grabbing for the thick oak door, running to the dock, and slipping into a boat for home.  “You think too highly of me.  I’m sure she would do better here.”  

Marina simply waited for the foolishness of Caterina’s words to disappear like a bad smell.  Then she smiled for the first time.  Her teeth had a greenish cast, like the lagoon.

“My angel.  May I call you that?”  

Caterina felt the cruel jab hidden in Marina’s words.  Someone else, long ago, had first called her an “angel.”  And somewhere, far away, perhaps he still saw her that way.

“We share a long history, yes?”  A glimmer of Marina’s old spark had returned.  “I remember when you were just fourteen.  Such an innocent!  Or so we all thought.”

Caterina laughed nervously and stared at the floor to hide her hot face.  Her heart began to pound in her head.

“I learned otherwise,” Marina said, “and I’ve protected your secret all these years.  Who knows why?”  She sighed.  “There was nothing to be gained by revenge; all was lost anyway.  I let you be.”

Caterina sat like a piece of marble in her chair.  She could hear lagoon water outside the windows lapping at the mossy stones.

“Now, old friend,” Marina pressed, “I ask you a favor.  It is only for a short time—I would guess not more than six months.  Remember that the girl is no more of a fool than you—we—once were.”

Caterina looked up to meet her faded eyes, which looked softer now at the memory of long ago.

“Will you help her?”

“Of course.” Caterina’s defeat was complete, but she said it with strength, as if this was her wish.

“Good.” Marina smiled green at her again.  “Leda is waiting in her room, ready to go.”

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About the Author

Barbara Lynn-Davis graduated from Brown University with a degree in art history. She then worked at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum in Venice and later spent a year there while completing her Ph.D. in Renaissance art at Princeton University.

She currently teaches art history and writing at Wellesley College, and lives outside Boston with her family.

For more information please visit Barbara Lynn-Davis’ website. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.

Read an excerpt Fatal Threat by Marie Force

“Fans of Scandal and House of Cards will love the Fatal Series.” —New York Times bestselling author Cindy Gerard

Don't miss the next chapter in the New York Times bestselling series from Marie Force! Read the electrifying romantic suspense novel that everyone is talking about!

It's just another day at the office for Washington Metro Police lieutenant Sam Holland when a body surfaces off the shores of the Anacostia River. But before Sam can sink her teeth into the new case, Secret Service agents seize her from the crime scene.

A threat has been made against her family, but nobody will tell her anything—including the whereabouts of her husband, Vice President Nick Cappuano. This isn't the first time the couple's lives have been at risk, but when a bombshell from Sam's past returns to haunt her, she can't help but wonder if there's a connection.

With a ruthless killer out for vengeance, and Nick struggling to maintain his reputation after secrets from his own past are revealed, Sam works to tie the threat to a murder that can't possibly be a coincidence. And she has to get it done before her husband's career is irrevocably damaged…

Excerpt

“Thank you, Brant,” Sam said to the agent in charge of Nick’s Secret Service detail.

“You’re welcome.” Brant paused before he added, “I know we’ve had this conversation before, Mrs. Cappuano, but I really recommend that you have a detail until we’re certain we’ve contained this threat.”

“I appreciate the recommendation, but I’ll be providing my own security through my team here. I’ll be accompanied by other armed officers everywhere I go. There’s no need to be redundant.”

“Redundant,” Nick muttered with a grunt that would’ve been laughter if the subject matter hadn’t been so grave. “Brant is suggesting added precaution, not redundancy.”

“It’s not necessary,” Sam said, digging in. The last fucking thing she needed was to be escorted around by federal agents. She may as well hang up her badge if that was going to be her reality.

“On that we disagree, my love,” Nick said. “But I’m not going to waste everyone’s time fighting a losing battle. Brant, we appreciate your thoroughness and ask you to keep us posted on the situation.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll wait for you outside.”

When they were alone, Sam looked up at Nick. “I know what you’re going to say, and—”

Nick kissed her hard. “I’ll see you at home later. Let me know if anything pops in the investigation.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

“That’s it.”

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“You surprise me.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Then my day is officially made. I’ve managed to surprise my shrewd, sexy wife.”

“I thought you were going to do the whole alpha-dog lift-your-leg thing and demand I have a detail.”

“Sorry to disappoint you on the leg lifting, babe, but we have a deal. Would I like you to have a detail? Abso-fucking-lutely. Do I understand why you won’t allow it? Yeah, I get it. Doesn’t mean I like it, but I get it.” He kissed her forehead and then her lips. “Now, we’ve both got stuff to do, so let’s get to it so we can get to the best part of the day.”

“Which is?”

His lips were a heartbeat away from hers when he said, “The part where you crawl into bed with me and rub your naked self all over me.”

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About the Author

Marie Force is the New York Times bestselling author of 60 contemporary romances, including the Gansett Island Series and the Fatal Series from Harlequin Books. In addition, she is the author of the Butler, Vermont Series, the Green Mountain Series and the erotic romance Quantum Series, written under the name of M.S. Force. All together, her books have sold 6 million copies worldwide!

Her goals in life are simple—to finish raising two happy, healthy, productive young adults, to keep writing books for as long as she possibly can and to never be on a flight that makes the news. 

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Read an exclusive excerpt from Suddenly Engaged by Julia London

Single mother Kyra Kokinos spends her days waiting tables, her nights working on her real estate license, and every spare moment with her precocious six-year-old daughter, Ruby—especially when Ruby won’t stop pestering their grumpy next-door neighbor. At first glance, Dax Bishop seems like the kind of gruff, solitary guy who’d be unlikely to offer a cup of sugar, let alone a marriage proposal. But that’s exactly what happens when Ruby needs life-saving surgery.

Dax showed up in East Beach a year ago, fresh from a painful divorce and looking for a place where he could make furniture and avoid people. Suddenly his life is invaded by an inquisitive munchkin in sparkly cowboy boots—and her frazzled, too-tempting mother. So he presents a practical plan: his insurance will help Ruby, and then they can divorce—zero strings attached.

But soon Kyra and Dax find their engagement of convenience is simple in name only. As their attraction deepens, a figure from the past reappears, offering a way out. Can Kyra and Dax let go so easily—or has love become a preexisting condition?

Exclusive Excerpt

Dax thought he was dreaming when he heard the tap tap tap on his door. He lifted his head and blinked and then looked around. Everything was as it should be—Otto snoring at the foot of his bed, the light from the streetlights near the lake weakly filtering in through his curtains.
 
He’d imagined it. He punched his pillow, then resettled.
 
The knock came again, only this time it was loud and insistent. Otto leapt from the bed, barking and sliding across the hardwood floor as he tried to get out of the room and head for the front door to rip someone’s head off.
 
The pounding came again, and Dax felt a slight panic. No one came knocking on a person’s door in the middle of the night except the police or home invaders. What time was it, anyway? He glanced at the clock. Half past twelve.
 
The knocking came again, and he shouted, “Just a damn minute!” He groped around, trying to find something to clock this person with. Finding nothing in the bedroom, he marched through the kitchen, saw some tools on the kitchen table, and grabbed a crowbar.
 
“This had better be good,” he muttered.
 
Otto was scratching at the door, barking. Dax had to lean around the damn dog to push aside the drapes and peer out. It was dark, and he could only make out a figure. And while he couldn’t see the person’s face, he knew it was Mrs. Coconuts.
 
He flipped on a light and yanked open the door. “What the hell?” he demanded, taking note of Mrs. Coconuts’s blazing eyes. In fact, if those lovely teak eyes had been guns, he’d be lying in a pool of blood right now. Otto chose that moment to leap up and plant his paws on the screen door. Stupid dog would have taken the shot for him. Dax shoved him aside. “What’s wrong?” he asked and pushed his fingers through his unruly hair. “Something happen to the kid?”
 
“You want to know what’s wrong?” she snapped and slapped a hundred-dollar bill up against the screen door. “That’s what’s wrong.”
 
He looked at the bill. Then at her. “It’s called a tip.”
 
“It’s called charity,” she said. “And I don’t want your stupid charity. Open the door.”
 
“Excuse me?”
 
“Open the door! Open it right now or I’ll put my foot through it!”
 
He didn’t think she was really capable, but he pushed the screen door open. Otto burst out with so much force that she was knocked backward, almost falling, but she grabbed onto the screen door, then used it like a slingshot to propel herself inside. She awkwardly slapped that bill against his bare chest and held it there. “I wanted to stuff it in your pocket and tell you to take a flying leap, but since you don’t have any pockets . . . take it.”
 
He glanced down and remembered he was wearing nothing but boxers. He fixed his gaze on her and all her craziness and covered her hand with his. “Okay.”
 
“All right.”
 
“Let go and I’ll take it.”
 
She yanked her hand free, then turned to go.
 
“I was trying to help,” he blurted. That’s all he’d meant by the tip. He hadn’t known she was waiting tables until he saw her at the bistro, and he’d thought of how much he imagined waitstaff made, and how the kid had wanted that purple octopus bath toy, and he’d left a big tip.
 
But Mrs. Coconuts whirled around so fast when he said it that it startled him. “By leaving me an unreasonably large tip? How exactly was that helping, other than contributing to the Kyra Kokinos charity? And why didn’t you acknowledge me?” she demanded. “You acted like you’ve never met me—or couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
 
“I didn’t act like that,” he scoffed.
 
“Yes, you did. You know you did. Why?”
 
Dax didn’t know how he’d acted to Kyra. He’d been too uptight about Heather. “I was on a date.”
 
Her eyes narrowed. “So?”
 
“Why didn’t you say something if you were so concerned about it?”
 
“I don’t know—maybe because you would hardly even look at me?”
 
Dax shrugged, feeling a little out of his depth here. Being on a date seemed a perfectly reasonable explanation to him. He wasn’t supposed to look at another woman while he was on a date, was he? Especially not one with a dark mane of hair and arresting eyes.
 
“Are you embarrassed by me?” she asked.
 
“What? No,” he said. Where did she come up with that? “Then why?”
 
He sighed. He dragged his fingers through his hair. Why was a difficult question to answer. All he knew was that when she’d looked at him like she had last night, he’d felt things stirring in him that he didn’t want to stir. He’d been sort of intrigued, sort of shocked, sort of scared, and the truth was, he still felt that way. He didn’t want . . . complications. He didn’t want to feel anything for her, and yet he couldn’t seem to bury the tiny shoots of feelings growing in him. Today at the bistro, he’d been confused about being confused and had felt very uncomfortable looking at Kyra while he was on a date with Heather. “I didn’t want you to be . . .” He whirled his hand around. “You know.”
 
“No, I don’t know.”
 
Neither did he, but he went with it. “You know,” he said again.
 
She blinked. But then something sparked in those lovely eyes, and they narrowed dangerously. She said, in a low voice that probably set off male alarms across East Beach, “You thought I’d be jealous?”
 
Jealous? Was she crazy? Well, yes, she was—but there was no way she should be jealous of Heather.
 
“You thought that I would be jealous of a girl because she was at lunch with you?”
 
She shoved him in the chest with what looked like a supreme amount of effort on her part, but which barely registered on him.
 
“Calm down,” he said.
 
“If you want me to calm down, then don’t you dare patronize me!”
 
“Patronize.” He snorted. “I’m not patronizing you, Kyra. You’re acting crazy. You seem a little volatile.” He was grasping at straws, trying to figure a way out of this while his body was trying to figure a way in.
 
Kyra gasped. Her eyes sparked with so much fire that he was amazed she didn’t torch Number Two to the ground. And then she lunged at him. Dax had a split second of believing she was going to choke the life out of him, and he moved to grab her arms in case she had that in mind, and then he was kissing her.
 
He was kissing her, and oh God, it was good. It was more than good, it was hot.

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About the Author

Born in Canyon, Texas, and raised on a ranch, Julia London didn’t have her eye on writing romance right away. After graduating with a degree in political science from the University of Texas in Austin, she moved out to Washington, DC, eventually working in the White House. She later decided to take a break from government work and start writing. Today, she is the New York Times, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today bestselling author of more than thirty novels. She writes historical romance and contemporary women’s fiction, and her most popular series include the Secrets of Hadley Green series, the Cabot Sisters series, the Desperate Debutantes series, the Lear Sisters series, and the Pine River series. She is a recipient of the RT Book Reviews Best Regency Historical Romance award for The Dangerous Gentleman, and a six-time finalist for the renowned RITA Award for excellence in romantic fiction. She resides in Austin, Texas.

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Spotlight: Can't Stop Lovin' You by Lynnette Austin

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Maggie Sullivan can't wait to get out of Texas. Luckily, she just got the break she needed to make her big-city dreams a reality. But then Brawley Odell swaggers back into Maverick Junction, looking hotter than ever in his dusty cowboy boots and well-worn jeans. He's the guy she still dreams of at night. The guy who broke her heart when he left her behind.

Fed up with city life, Brawley jumps at the chance to return home and take over the local vet's practice—and get back to the smart, sassy woman he's never been able forget. He couldn't be prouder of Maggie's new wedding-dress business . . . until he realizes it may mean losing her all over again. Determined to win her back, Brawley must find a way to convince Maggie that their one true home is with each other.

Excerpt

Brawley Odell figured his life wouldn’t be worth one plug-nickel the second he stepped foot inside Maggie’s shop. Too damn bad. He hadn’t driven the thirty miles from Maverick Junction to back out now. He was goin’ in.

After all this time, he’d come home…and she was leaving.

He grasped the brass knob and shoulder-butted the oak door. It flew open, the bell overhead jangling. Maggie Sullivan, all that gorgeous red hair scooped into a jumbled mass, stood dead-center in the room. Dressed in a skirt and top the color of a forest at twilight, she held a fuzzy sweater up in front of her like a shield. Those amazing green eyes widened as he stormed in.

“We need to talk.” He ignored the woman at the back of the store who flipped through a rack of tops.

“What the—?”

He held up a hand. “Don’t speak. Not yet.”

Her mouth opened, then closed.

Anger boiled in him, but he needed to find some modicum of control. Taking a deep breath, he held it for the count of ten, then slowly released it. “Did you plan on telling me?”

Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

“You’re invited to New York City for a showing of your new line, and you don’t share that with me? I have to learn about it secondhand?”

“Last I heard this wasn’t about you, Brawley. In fact, my life, my business has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

His jaw clenched. “Anything that affects you is my business, Mags.”

She snorted. “Get real, Odell. You gave up any and all rights years ago.” Her head tilted. “Why are you even interested? You want to attend so you can show off your latest Dallas Cowboy cheerleader? Maybe order her trousseau?”

He shot her a deadly look, one that had made grown men back away.

Not Maggie. She actually took a couple steps toward him. The woman had no survival instincts. Another reason she had no business heading off to New York alone.

She tapped a scarlet-tipped finger on her chin. “Oh, that’s right. There’d be no trousseau for your honey, would there? Maybe a weekend-fling outfit for your date du jour? A one-night-stand set of lacy lingerie.”

“Shut up, Maggie.”

“Make me.” Her eyes flashed.

This time the look in his eyes must have warned her she’d treaded too close to the edge. She stepped back.

“You challenging me, Maggie?”

When she wet her lips, his gaze dropped to her mouth, followed the tip of her pink tongue as it darted out.

“Only one way I could ever get you quiet,” he said.

Her hand shot up. “Don’t even think about it.”

“No thought required. Been wanting to do this a long time now.” He closed the distance between them and dropped his mouth to hers. Fire. Smoke. Hell, a full-out volcanic eruption.

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About the Author

Lynnette Austin, a recovering middle school teacher, loves long rides with the top down and the music cranked up, the Gulf of Mexico when a storm is brewing, chocolate frozen custard, anything by Blake Shelton, Chris Young, and Thomas Rhett, and sitting in her local coffee shop reading and enjoying an iced coffee. She and her husband divide their time between Southwest Florida's beaches and Georgia's Blue Ridge Mountains. Having grown up in a small town, that's where her heart takes her—to those quirky small towns where everybody knows everybody...and all their business, for better or worse. Writing for Grand Central and Sourcebooks, she’s published twelve novels and is at work on a new series.

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