Spotlight: Once a Rebel by Mary Jo Putney

“Putney’s endearing characters and warm-hearted stories never fail to inspire and delight.” —Sabrina Jeffries

A Rogue Redeemed

As Washington burns, Callista Brooke is trapped in the battle between her native England and her adopted homeland. She is on the verge of losing everything, including her life, when a handsome Englishman cuts through the violent crowd to claim that she is his. Callie falls into her protector's arms, recognizing that he is no stranger, but the boy she'd once loved, a lifetime ago.

Lord George Gordon Audley had been Callie’s best friend, and it was to Gordon she turned in desperation to avoid a loathsome arranged marriage. But the repercussions of his gallant attempt to rescue her sent Callie packing to Jamaica, and Gordon on a one way trip to the penal colony of Australia.

Against all odds, Gordon survived. Finding Callie is like reclaiming his tarnished soul, and once again he vows to do whatever is necessary to protect her and those she loves. But the innocent friendship they shared as children has become a dangerous passion that may save or destroy them when they challenge the aristocratic society that exiled them both….

Excerpt

Kingston Court, Lancashire, 1799

“Richard! Richard!”

Lord George Gordon Richard Augustus Audley, third and most worthless son of the Marquess of Kingston, snapped awake at the hissing voice outside his open bedroom window. Callie? She wasn’t supposed to be home from school for another week. He frowned; it had to be her. Only two people had ever called him Richard, and she was the only one who might be climbing up the thick vines below his window.

In the warm night he wore only his drawers. Though he and Callie had been best friends since they were in the nursery, they weren’t on terms of seminudity, so he grabbed his robe and tied the sash as he swung from the bed.

He leaned out the casement and looked down into the rustling vines. In the light of a full moon, the heart-shaped face and shining red-blond hair were unmistakable. But what the devil was the Honorable Catherine Callista Brooke doing scrambling up to his room in the middle of the night?

“Callie, you’re insane!” he said affectionately as he leaned out and extended a hand to help her up and over the sill. “If I’d known you were home from school, I could have called tomorrow in a perfectly civilized manner.”

Her hand clamped onto his and she scrambled over the sill and into his room. She was dressed as a boy, which was sensible for climbing vine-covered walls.

He was about to say more when the moonlight revealed shining streaks on her face. Callie was crying? She never cried. She had nerves of Damascus steel. “What’s wrong, Callie?” he asked sharply.

“Everything!” she replied in a raw voice.

She was shaking, so he instinctively wrapped com-forting arms around her. He must have grown in the last months of school, because she seemed smaller as she buried her face against his shoulder. “Steady, Catkin,” he said quietly as he patted her back. “We’ve been in and out of enough trouble to know how to fix problems.”

“Not this kind of problem.” She took a deep breath and stepped back, though she kept hold of his arms as if not trusting her balance.

Moonlight touched her face, revealing a dark mark on her left cheek. Swearing, he skimmed a gentle fingertip over the bruise. “Damnation, your father has been beating you again!”

Callie shrugged. “I’m used to that, being the most dis-obedient, rebellious, devil-touched daughter in England, as he informs me regularly. But this time . . .” Her voice broke before she continued. “It’s much worse. He’s going to marry me to some horrible old planter from the West Indies!”

“Good God, how has that come about?” Gordon steered her to a chair, then retrieved his hidden flask of forbidden brandy. He poured a small measure into a glass and added an equal amount of water before handing it over. “How would a planter from the Indies even know you exist?”

“He’s some kind of distant connection of my father. A widower.” She sipped at the watered brandy, coughed, sipped some more. “He called at Rush Hall to discuss business, saw me, and offered marriage because I’m so beautiful!” She almost spat the words out.

“Beautiful?” Gordon blinked at the thought. She was . . . Callie. Pretty enough with that sunset red-gold hair, and she was athletic and graceful as well. An old man might consider the hair and Callie’s vibrant good spirits enough to be beauty. “You’re only sixteen, so surely that means a long betrothal.”

She shook her head violently. “He wants to marry immediately, before he returns to the Indies! He’s staying at the Hall now. As soon as my father said he could have me and good riddance, the fellow sent to London for a special license. It came today. My father told me this evening that I’ll be married the day after tomorrow.”

“He can’t force you to marry a stranger!” Gordon said, aghast. “Just keep saying no. It won’t be easy, but you’re practiced at disobedience.”

She shook her head, shaking again. “If I don’t obey, I’m afraid he’ll take his anger out on my sisters.”

Damnably, she was probably right. Callie’s sisters were vulnerable, and her father was quite capable of bullying or hurting them to insure Callie’s cooperation. Gordon wrapped an arm around her shoulders, murmuring soft, comforting words until she pulled away with a smile that almost worked. “You’re talking to me like one of your horses.”

“It works with frightened fillies, so it seemed worth trying.” He smiled when she rolled her eyes with elab-orate disdain, but sobered swiftly. “What do you want me to do, Callie?”

“I’m going to run away and I need money,” she said bluntly. “Can you lend me some?”

He frowned. “Run away to where?”

“My Aunt Beatrice. She’s my godmother and has said I’m welcome to visit anytime. I’ll be safe with her.”

“But for how long? If your father comes to drag you off to get married, she won’t be able to stand up to him.”

Callie bit her lip. “Then I’ll change my name and disappear into Manchester or Birmingham. I’ll find some sort of work.”

“Become a mill worker?” he asked incredulously. “This is not a good plan, Callie!”

“Not a mill worker! You know how good I am at sewing. I’m sure I can find a job as a seamstress,” she said impatiently. “If you can lend me twenty or thirty pounds, it will be enough to get me away and support me until I’m established somewhere my father will never find me.”

He bit his lip, thinking how many disastrous things might happen to a pretty, inexperienced girl, even one who was intelligent, ingenious, and brave.

He caught his breath as a thought struck. Yet it made sense. “I have a better idea, Callie. Marry me. We can be in Scotland in two days and we’re old enough to marry there without permission.”

She gasped, her hazel eyes widening. “And you think I’m insane! We’re too young to get married, even if it is legal in Scotland. Marriage is forever.” She bit her lip. “I’ve always wanted to marry for love.”

“My parents did that and it didn’t work out particularly well,” he retorted. “I’ve always thought that in the unlikely event that I marry, it would be to a friend, and aren’t we best friends?”

She frowned as she considered his proposal. “I sup-pose marrying you would be better than a fat old planter with damp hands.”

He grinned. “I am so very flattered.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just that marriage seems so . . . so extreme.”

“It is, but so is being bullied into marriage to a man you can’t stand.” He shrugged. “If someday you meet someone you really want to marry, I won’t stand in your way. It’s easier to get a divorce in Scotland than in England. In the meantime, you’d be better off with me because I won’t try to force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“There is that,” she admitted. “If we’re married, we’ll both be free of our fathers and able to look out for each other.”

“It would be a grand adventure,” he said, liking the idea more and more. “At twenty-one I’ll have control of half the money my godfather left me. It’s enough for us to live comfortably. Between now and then, we’ll discover what life is like for average people. We’ll find work with some decent country squire. You can be a lady’s maid and I’ll look after the horses.”

Callie’s face lit with laughter. “You’re right, it would be an adventure! Far better than marrying a dreadful stranger. We’ll make it work. We always do. No more adults telling us we’re too rebellious and ill behaved!”

“Too wild and fated to come to a bad end!” Exhilarated, Gordon swept Callie into his arms and kissed her. He started the kiss as a friend, and ended it as . . . something else. She was sweet and warm and strong in his arms, and for the first time ever he thought of her as a girl. No, not a girl, but a young woman ripe for marriage.

She also reacted to the kiss, leaning into him, her lips parting. Heat kicked through him. He’d admired his share of pretty girls and stolen a few kisses, but this was different. More. She would be his wife and they would have physical and emotional intimacy beyond anything he could imagine. The prospect was alarming, but also exhilarating.

Callie drew back, her eyes shining. “The adventure of a lifetime,” she breathed. “And the sooner we begin, Richard, the better!”

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About the Author

Mary Jo Putney is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has written over 50 novels and novellas. A ten-time finalist for the Romance Writers of America RITA, she has won the honor twice and is on the RWA Honor Roll for bestselling authors. She has been awarded two Romantic Times Career Achievement Awards, four NJRW Golden Leaf awards, plus the NJRW career achievement award for historical romance. Though most of her books have been historical romance, she has also published contemporary romances, historical fantasy, and young adult paranormal historicals. 

Mary Jo Putney, Jo Beverley, Joanna Bourne, Patricia Rice, Nicola Cornick, Cara Elliott, Anne Gracie, Susan King are the ladies otherwise known as the Word Wenches. These eight authors have written a combined 231 novels and 74 novellas. They’ve won awards such as the RITAS, RT Lifetime Achievement award, RT Living Legend, and RT Reviewers Choice award. Several of them are regulars on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists.


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Spotlight: Diomere's Exile by Sabrina A. Fish

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We are delighted to announce the PRE-ORDER AVAILABILITY of Diomere's Exile by Sabrina A. Fish. Check it out and reserve your copy today.
Official release date: September 29, 2017.
Diomere's Exile
Series: The Gate Keeper Chronicles Book 1
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
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An exiled woman seeking redemption, and the man who distracts her from finding it.
Five Gates. Five Sisters. Five Very Different Men.
Once there were two worlds connected by five magical gates. Then the Gate Keepers closed the gates and disappeared. The Gate Keepers have returned.
Nadia de Quinones was exiled when her nephew, the crown-prince was abducted on her watch. She’ll let nothing stand in the way of her redemption, not even discovering her heartbonded and a connection to an ancient magical gate.
Lord Gregor Cyrene is sworn to protect his country's royal heirs. After the youngest prince’s life is threatened, Gregor sets out to discover who is responsible and suspects the answer lies with Nadia.
When fate forces their competing goals to align, neither are prepared for the irresistible attraction between them. Can they see beyond their pasts and a millennia old hate between their people? Or will they continue to distrust, allowing those plotting against them to win?

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Prizes up for grabs:
$25 Gift Card (Winner's choice: Amazon or Barnes & Noble)
2 Diomere's Exile eBooks
3 Mystery Prizes
Contest runs from August 29 - October 16, 2017.

About Sabrina A. Fish

Sabrina A. Fish
Sabrina A. Fish lives in Oklahoma with her husband, son, and two cats, where she owns a trophy company and collects names for her novels from lists of award’s recipients. She loves all things chocolate and her husband is sweet enough to never let the candy dish near her computer become empty.
She loves and advocates being involved in the local writing community, and is President for the 2018 Oklahoma Writers' Federation, Inc (OWFI).
She is an annual featured speaker at The Rose State Writing Conference and has been a panelist at Wizard World Comic Con.
Born and raised in Oklahoma, she considers the three years she spent in a Texas high school to be a short trip down the rabbit hole that ended at graduation. She returned to Oklahoma where she received her Bachelor's degree in Political Science from the University of Oklahoma. BOOMER SOONER.
When she isn't writing & promoting her novels or running her company, she can be found reading, scrapbooking, or spending quality time with her family.
To find out more about Sabrina and her books, visit her website https://www.SabrinaAFish.com
Connect with Sabrina A. Fish on social media:

About The Wild Rose Press

The Wild Rose Press
The Wild Rose Press has been publishing electronic and print titles of fiction for more than nine years. Our titles span the sub-genre spectrum from sweet to sensually erotic romance in all lengths to mainstream and womens fiction. To check out the latest and upcoming releases and more, visit https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com.
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Audio Excerpt: Touch of Fondness by Joy Penny

Four friends. Four college grads. Four people figuring out that life doesn't always turn out the way you expected.

Brielle Reyes may not have post-college life planned out like some of her friends do, but she figures she'll work for her mother's home cleaning service while job hunting for something that makes use of her history and philosophy degrees. It'll work out as long as she doesn't fall in love. Her last relationship was a disaster and she has no idea where she'll be in a few weeks, let alone the rest of her life. Since the only guy in her age range she sees now on a regular basis is cantankerous if handsome client Archer Ward, she probably won't have a hard time sticking to that vow. Probably.

Archer Ward likes very few things: illustrating as a somewhat-celebrated comic artist and his privacy. When his meddling mother hires him a cleaning service on an almost daily basis because she doesn't fully trust her son to live on his own with his disability, he's at first annoyed - even if his house cleaner is the most beautiful woman he's ever spent more than a few minutes with. When he realizes her dreams may take her far outside of his restricted orbit, he has to decide whether to stifle his interest in her or risk messing up her plans to explore if there's something more between them.

Neither can deny they're growing a little fond of each other, even if falling in love just now makes no sense whatsoever. But how often does love ever make perfect sense?

Excerpt

About the Author: Joy Penny

Joy Penny writes books, devours stories, and geeks out about everything from classic romance books to manga. When she's not working as a freelance writer and book editor, she's probably immersed in her favorite TV shows, period dramas, and anime series. She also writes YA speculative fiction as Amy McNulty, and one of her books, Nobody's Goddess, won The Romance Reviews' Summer 2016 Readers' Choice Award for Young Adult Romance.

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About the Narrator: Susan Marlowe

Susan Marlowe is an audio book narrator/voice artist. For more information, contact her at smthom76@gmail.com.

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Spotlight: Rachel Brimble's Victorian Romances

ALL BOOKS ARE LOOSELY CONNECTED YET EASILY READ AS STANDALONES!

The Seduction of Emily

Seduction is a wicked game, and no one plays it better than the devilish Will Samson in Rachel Brimble's captivating new novel. . .

Since girlhood, Emily Darson has accepted that she will marry Nicholas, the son of her father's trusted business partner. The marriage contract safeguards her family legacy, Emily's fortune, and everything she values--except her independence. Only when a sinfully handsome scoundrel enters her life does Emily realize quite how much a loveless match will cost her.

Will Samson has advanced from expert pickpocket to confidence trickster of the highest caliber. Now he has come to Bath to exact vengeance on the man who destroyed his mother--the man Emily will soon marry. But from his first glimpse of the enemy's bewitching, spirited fiancée, Will's plan changes.
Amid the ballrooms and salons of elegant society, heated glances explode into scandalous kisses. Revenge is sweet, but surrender will be irresistible. . .

The Temptation of Laura

Laura Robinson has always been dazzled by the glamour of the stage. But perhaps acting and selling one's favors are not so different—for Laura must feign pleasure with the men she beds to survive. Now, with her only friend at death's door and a ruthless pimp at her heels, escaping her occupation seems impossible. Hoping to attract a gentleman, she attends the theater. Yet the man Laura captivates is no customer, but a rising star and playwright. . .

What a Woman Desires

From country girl to actress of the stage, one woman dares to live her dreams—but is she brave enough to open her heart. . .?

Monica Danes always wanted more than the village of Biddlestone had to offer. After a failed courtship to a man of her parents' choosing, she fled for the city of Bath and never looked back. Today, Monica is the undisputed queen of the theater—a wealthy, independent woman. But when she is called home in the wake of tragedy, Monica returns—intending to leave again as soon as possible.

Thomas Ashby has been a groom at the Danes estate since he was a boy—and has been enamored with Monica for almost as long. He knows he isn't a suitable match for his master's daughter, despite the special bond he and Monica have always shared—and their undeniable attraction. But now that she's returned, Thomas has one last chance to prove himself worthy—and to show Monica a life, and a love, she won't want to give up. . .

Her One True Love

Jane Charlotte Danes has loved the squire of her idyllic country town for as long as she can remember. He is good, kind, and alluring beyond words… and he chose to marry another. Tired of dwelling on her futile longings, Jane plans a move to Bath, where she dreams of a new beginning. But the man who has so imprisoned her heart is only a few steps behind…

He Can't Let Her Go…

Until now, Matthew Cleaves has endeavored to meet the responsibilities of his position with dignity and good spirits--including his dutiful marriage. But when his wife leaves him for another man, Matthew is at last free to pursue his one true love. Only one vital question remains: will the captivating, stubborn, beautiful Jane allow him the challenge, and the pleasure, of winning her back?.. 

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About the Author

Rachel lives with her husband and two young daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. Here first novel was published in 2007. Since then, she's had several books published with small presses and since 2012 has written mainstream romance and romantic suspense for Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories) and Victorian romance for eKensington/Lyrical Press.

Agent represented in the US, Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, When she isn't writing, you'll find Rachel with her head in a book or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in South West England. And in the evening? Well, a well-deserved glass of wine is never, ever refused...

Connect: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Spotlight: Pretty Perfect by Lana Sky

Pretty Perfect
Lana Sky
Publication date: May 31st 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Perfection. It is an illusion that twenty-year-old Anya DeSotto strives to maintain.

The perfect ballerina.

The perfect daughter.

The perfect liar.

Everyone else seems fooled by the charade—but Anya isn’t prepared for the moment her perfect mask is cracked in half by someone much more adept at the art of pretending.

Nearly two decades her senior, Revend Marcus, the owner of a prestigious international ballet company, has no problem with breaking Anya down to suit his own twisted idea of perfection. But when a shadow from Revend’s past looms over their futures, and Anya’s insecurities push their relationship to a violent crescendo, the resulting chaos threatens to destroy them both.

Though, sometimes, even destruction can be pretty perfect.

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On sale for 99¢ for a limited time only!

EXCERPT:

When I finally left the bathroom and entered the larger rehearsal room, his real voice berated me from the center of it. “About time. Warm up.”

A chandelier hanging from the ceiling was already lit, flooding the room with orange light—as well as illuminating several distinct fixtures. He owned his own piano, tucked into the corner. There was also a metal dance barre, about six feet long, placed near the wall before me. Behind it was an even longer mirror stretching nearly all the way up to the ceiling. My reflection mocked me from it, wearing a sheer skirt that hung crookedly around my waist.

Revend frowned at the sight, though who could blame him? How in the hell was he supposed to transform this robot into a real girl?

“Warm up,” he barked, gesturing to the barre.

He never gave me any direction, so I began my usual exercises, focusing on each core muscle group one at a time. Legs. Arms. Back.

The mirror threw his reactions in my face, making them impossible to ignore. The frown when I lifted one leg over the barre. The way it grew more pronounced when I started to work on the second. How, with every plié, his narrowed gaze scanned my face for emotion.

“Look at me.”

I wasn’t brave enough to mention that I had never stopped. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found that his real expression wasn’t any warmer than the reflection.

“We will do the pas de deux from the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet,” he said. “I will only rehearse the partner work minus the lifts, but you need to know the full routine.”

The full routine. One that just so happened to include an infamous kiss at the end. Sizing Revend up, I couldn’t tell if he planned on rehearsing that part too.

“Why?” I asked.

“Why?” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Did you even read the instructions for the next round of auditions?”

I bit my lip rather than admitting my lack of preparation out loud. Two weeks. Only then did it sink in just how little time that was to prepare.

“Get into the starting position.”

I stiffened as Revend appeared behind me. Before I could react, his hand captured my waist.

“En pointe,” he commanded as his fingers flexed possessively. “Now, begin.”

What was that saying? Third time’s the charm. It fit there almost, considering that I had danced the role of Juliet only twice before in my junior year of a performance arts academy in the city. I had been an understudy at first, only to be thrust into the lead role when the principal dancer got sick off bad sushi. The reviews in the community newspaper read something along the lines of, Beautiful production but stiff female lead—an opinion Revend seemed to second.

“Don’t tense,” he hissed. His hands went to my shoulders, correcting my posture with precise nudges. “You’re stifling your own motion.”

“I don’t—”

“You don’t speak. You dance.”

Dance. I used the command as an excuse to move away from him, but I could never escape my own reflection. The woman performing a series of light steps alongside me was no Juliet. Maybe just a jilted member of the corps shoved onto the very back of the stage as a nameless extra: servant number one.

“Stop!” Revend snarled halfway through the variation. Tearing a hand through his hair, he retreated to the other end of the room.

For the first time, I realized he didn’t have his cane. It leaned against the chair in the corner.

“You’re a young girl,” he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the walls. “You’re in love. Passionate. Show me.”

How did people show passion outside of forced luncheons and silent dinners? Maybe this damn ballet held the answer; the act began with Juliet rushing excitedly to meet her Romeo. One count passed. Then another as I hesitated on the balls of my feet.

I didn’t recall Romeo having graying hair.

“You’re thinking like a child and not a dancer,” Revend scolded as if reading my mind. “All that matters is maintaining the illusion. Make me believe it!”

I launched into the steps without giving myself the chance to believe in anything—to regret having shown up at this lesson. I was Juliet, prancing across marble to meet the man she’d admired from afar. Juliet, rising on pointe to pirouette in her lover’s arms…

And I was Anya in the arms of Revend Marcus, who seized my waist mid-spin and marshaled me over to the mirror.

“Look! Watch your face,” he hissed against my ear. “Your heart is racing. Your body is tense. But what do you see?”

Negative traits stood out in stark contrast, impossible to overlook. I only saw someone in over her head, dressed in a pretty uniform that highlighted the blank, unnatural expression on her face.

Feel?

Robots couldn’t feel.

“Forget the dance.” He captured my head with his hands, raking his fingers through that perfect bun at the nape of my neck. “Only feel.” His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth as if to give me a sensation to study.

When I flinched, the nail grazed my lip. My chin. Lower…

“Ignore the source. Focus on the feeling and take what you need from it to create your own illusion.”

What I needed?

Maybe for him to stop touching me. My own family didn’t touch me. They looked. They watched. Monitored. Pitied. Hugs were for real girls; robots simply needed daily programming. The firmer Revend’s fingers dug into my hip, the more my insides twisted, struggling to register every sensation. Too warm. Too hard. Everywhere.

“S-stop—”

“No.” He muscled in even closer. My back struck his chest, his right thigh caging my hip. “Ignore everything but what you need to craft your illusion.”

Easier said than done. Only his tone kept my heart from racing. He sounded cold, like a professor attempting to show an ignorant student the folly of her ways. Even the way he touched me held purpose. His nearness forced my spine to lengthen. His hands urged my feet to turn out further, my toes perfectly pointed.

“Become Juliet,” he grunted before standing back. “Move.”

I raised my arms and turned out my left foot. I’m Juliet. I’m…

“Dead!” Revend hissed. “You’re already dead before an ounce of poison even touches your lips.”

Staring into the empty, blue eyes watching me from the mirror’s surface, I had to agree with him. I didn’t even recognize the woman he was taunting. Why did she seem so damn cold?

“Begin again,” Revend snapped, but I lifted my arms only for him to swat them down. “Try again. Move. Feel, Anya.”

He made it sound so damn easy. Feel. But how could I with no lines to recite? No fake smile to wear for show? No daddies to lie to or mommies to placate?

No script.


Author Bio:

Lana Sky is a reclusive writer in the United States who spends most of her time daydreaming about complex male characters and legless cats. She writes mostly paranormal romance, in between watching reruns of Ab Fab and drinking iced tea. Only iced tea.

Drain Me is her debut novel and the first novel in the upcoming "Ellie Gray Chronicles."

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Spotlight: One Summer Night by Caridad Pineiro

An offer that’s impossible to accept . . .

Maggie Sinclair has tried everything to save her family’s business, including mortgaging their beloved beach house on the Jersey Shore. But now, she’s out of options.

The Sinclair and Pierce families have been neighbors and enemies for almost thirty years. That hasn’t stopped Owen Pierce from crushing on Maggie, and he’s determined to invest in her success. Now he has to convince her that he’s more than just trouble with a capital T…

Excerpt

Tracy Parker was in love with being in love.

That worried her best friend and maid of honor Maggie Sinclair more than she cared to admit.

In the middle of the temporary dance floor, Tracy waltzed with her new husband in a satin-and-lace designer gown, gleaming with seed pearls and twinkling sequins. But the sparkle dimmed in comparison to the dreamy glow in Tracy’s eyes.

The sounds of wedding music competed with the gentle rustle of seagrasses in the dunes and the crash of the waves down on the beach. The fragrance from centerpiece flowers and bouquets battled with the kiss of fresh sea air.

Connie and Emma, Tracy’s two other best friends and members of the bridal party, were standing beside Maggie on the edge of the dance floor that had been set up on the great lawn of Maggie’s family’s beachfront mansion on the Jersey Shore. Huddled together, Maggie and her friends watched the happy couple do a final whirl.

“She’s got it so bad,” Maggie said, eyeing Connie and Emma with concern past the rim of her rapidly disappearing glass of champagne.

“Do you think that this time he really is The One?” Connie asked.

“Doubt it,” Emma replied without hesitation.

As the DJ requested that other couples join the happy newlyweds, Maggie and her friends returned to the bridal party dais set out on the patio. Grabbing another glass of champagne, Maggie craned her neck around the gigantic centerpiece piled with an almost obscene mound of white roses, ice-blue hydrangea, lisianthus, sheer tulle, and twinkling fairy lights and examined the assorted guests mingling around the great lawn and down by the boardwalk leading to the beach.

She recognized Tracy’s family from their various meetings over the years, as well as some of Tracy’s sorority sisters, like Toni Van Houten, who in the six years since graduation had managed to pop out a trio of boys who now circled her like sharks around a swimmer. Although the wedding invite had indicated No Children, Toni had done as she pleased. Since Tracy had not wanted a scene at her dream beachfront wedding, Emma, who was doing double duty as the wedding planner for the event, had scrambled to find space for the children at the dinner tables.

“Is that Toni ‘I’ll never ruin my body with babies’ Toni?” Connie asked, a perplexed look on her features.  At Maggie’s nod, Connie’s eyes widened in surprise, and she said, “She looks…happy.”

A cynical laugh erupted from Emma. “She looks crazed.”

Maggie couldn’t argue with either of their assessments. But as put-upon as their old acquaintance seemed, the indulgent smile she gave her youngest child was positively radiant.

Maggie skipped her gaze across the gathering to take note of all the other married folk. It was easy enough to pick them out from her vantage point on the dais where she and her friends sat on display like days’ old cakes in the bakery. They were the last three unmarried women in an extended circle of business and college acquaintances.

“How many times do you suppose we’ve been bridesmaids now?” Maggie wondered aloud. She finished off her glass and motioned for the waiter to bring another.

“Jointly or severally?” asked Connie, ever the lawyer.

“Way too many,” replied Emma, who, for a wedding planner, was the most ardent disbeliever in the possibility of happily ever afters.

Maggie hadn’t given marriage a first thought, much less a second, in a very long time. She’d had too many things going on in her life. Not that there hadn’t been a few memorable moments, most of which revolved around the absolutely worst man for her: Owen Pierce.

But for years now, she’d been dealing with her family’s business and its money problems, which had spilled over into her personal finances. As she gazed at the beauty of the manicured grounds and then back toward her family’s summer home, it occurred to her that this might be the last time she hosted a celebration like this here. She had mortgaged the property that she had inherited to funnel money into the family’s struggling retail store division.

Unfortunately, thanks to her father’s stubborn refusal to make changes to help the business, she spent way too much time at work, which left little time for romance. Not to mention that none of her casual dates had piqued her interest in that direction. Looking down from her perch, however, and seeing the happiness on so many faces suddenly had her reconsidering the merits of married life.

“Always a bridesmaid and never a bride,” she muttered, surprising herself with the hint of wistfulness in her tone.

“That’s because the three of us are all too busy working to search for Prince Charming,” Connie said, her defense as swift and impassioned as if she were arguing a case in court.

“Who even believes in that fairy-tale crap?” Emma’s gaze grew distracted, and she rose from her chair. “Excuse me for a moment. Carlo needs to see me about something.”

Emma rushed off to the side of the dance floor, where her caterer extraordinaire, Carlo Teixeira, raked a hand through his thick brown hair in clear frustration. He wore a pristine white chef’s jacket and pants that enhanced his dark good looks.

Emma laid a hand on Carlo’s forearm and leaned close to speak to him, apparently trying to resolve a problem.

“She doesn’t believe in fairy tales, but her Prince Charming is standing right in front of her,” Connie said with a sad shake of her head.

Maggie took another sip of her champagne and viewed the interaction between Carlo and Emma. Definitely major sparkage going on, she thought.

“You’re totally right,” she said with an assertive nod.

Connie smiled like the proverbial cat, her exotic green-gold eyes gleaming with mischief. “That’s why you hired me to represent your company as soon as I finished law school. Nothing gets past me.”

“Really? So what else do you think you’ve seen tonight?”

Raising her glass, her friend gestured toward the right of the mansion’s great lawn where some of the fraternity brothers from their alma mater had gathered. One of the men slowly turned to sneak a peek at them.

“Owen has been watching you all night long,” Connie said with a shrewd smile.

“Totally impossible, and you of all people should know it. Owen Pierce has absolutely no interest in me.”

She set her glass on the table to hide the nervous tremble of her hand as her gaze connected with his for the briefest of moments. Even that fleeting link was enough to raise her core temperature a few degrees. But what woman wouldn’t respond like that?

In his designer tuxedo, Owen was the epitome of male perfection—raven-black hair, a sexy gleam in his charcoal-gray eyes, broad shoulders, and not an ounce of fat on him, which made her recall seeing him in much, much less on a hot summer night on Sea Kiss Beach. She had been staying in the quaint seaside town on the Jersey Shore with her grandmother that summer, much as she had all her life. As they also had for so many years, the Pierce boys had been residing next door for the entire season.

The two beachfront mansions had been built side by side decades earlier, before the start of the Pierce and Sinclair rift. The cost of waterfront real estate had escalated so drastically since their construction that neither family was willing to sell their beloved home to put some distance between the warring clans.

Well, make that the warring fathers, because as far as Maggie was concerned, she had no beef with Owen. They had played together down on the beach as kids. She couldn’t count the many sand castles they’d built or the time they’d spent out in the surf.

But after her mother had died, things had changed, and the carefree spirit of those halcyon days had disappeared. The Pierce boys had stopped coming down to the Shore for the next few years, and combined with the loss of her mom, it had created an emptiness inside her that hadn’t really gone away.

By the time the Pierce brothers returned years later, the feud had gotten worse, and Owen and Jonathan had been instructed to stay away. But an ill-timed and half-drunk kiss with Owen on a moonlit summer night had proved that staying away was impossible. It had also helped the emptiness recede for a bit. Since then, fate had seemed to toss them together time and time again in both their business and personal lives, keeping alive her fascination with him. She felt not quite so alone when he was around, not that she should get used to that.

Owen Pierce had left her once before when she’d needed his friendship the most: right after her mother’s death. His on-again, off-again presence in her life proved that she couldn’t count on him.

Owen stood next to his younger brother, Jonathan, who couldn’t be more different. While Owen was clean-cut and corporate, Jonathan had the scruffy hipster look going on. It was appealing in its own way, but not to her.

“Trust me, Maggie. Your families might be at war, but Owen would clearly love to sleep with the enemy,” Connie said.

She blew out a frustrated sigh. “More reason to avoid him. You know I’m not the kind to sleep around.”

Emma returned, color riding high on her cheeks, but not in a good way.

“Something wrong?” Maggie asked.

Emma kneeled between the two of them and whispered, “It seems the groom had a bit too much to drink and Tracy caught him being hands-on with an old flame.”

“Not Amy? Tracy always lost it if she spotted him with Amy,” Maggie whispered.

“Definitely Amy. Now Tracy is refusing to come out and cut the cake. I have to say, this takes the cake, literally. Married a few hours, and already there’s trouble.”

“Ever the hopeful romantic, Em,” she kidded.

“If you think you can do better, why don’t the two of you come help me talk Tracy off the ledge?”

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About the Author

Caridad Pineiro is a transplanted Long Island girl who has fallen in love with pork roll and the Jersey Shore, but still can’t get the hang of tomato pies. When Caridad isn’t taking long strolls along the boardwalk to maintain her sanity and burn off that pork roll, she’s also a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author with over a million books sold worldwide. Caridad is passionate about writing and helping others explore and develop their skills as writers. She is a founding member of the Liberty States Fiction Writers and has presented workshops at the RT Book Club Convention, Romance Writers of America National Conference as well as various writing organizations throughout the country.

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