Spotlight: Restless by Michelle Bellon

You grow up. You get married. You have a family. At least, that’s what Malea Winters believes she’s supposed to do. So why is it that every time she comes close to finding that happily ever after, she runs?

When she meets Garrett Taylor, she warns him that she’s not the marrying type because history has shown that long-term relationships are not her forte. She has a tendency to leave when things get too serious; the direct result of being raised by an emotionally detached mother and a stepdad with philandering ways. So she swore off men and surrounded herself with her best friends; three quirky, funny women who are facing challenges of their own.

But Garrett is everything she’s ever looked for; charming, successful, fun, and sexy. Despite her better judgment, his persistence pays off and she finds herself falling for him.

Learning how to love and be loved will be the hardest lesson she’s ever faced. The question is, will her relationships survive that lesson?

Book Excerpt:

As I walk down the aisle, avoiding eye contact with my husband-to-be, I remember the dream and feel the need to run.

I clutch the bountiful bouquet of flowers, red and white for our Christmastime wedding, and feel the sweat on my palms collect in the center. I want to rub them down the front of my dress.

But that would be unacceptable. My grandma has lovingly sewn every stitch, carefully placed every pearly bead, and worked every delicate piece of lace. It’s a work of labor and love.

Today, I am supposed to be a princess.

But as I look around at familiar faces, friends and family, watching me take this enormous step into life as a wife, as a life partner, I feel anything but princess-like.

I feel the lie. I feel the relentless pursuit of truth. Both follow me down the aisle, tapping on my shoulder and reminding me that I have no ability to live up to this responsibility.

I am quaking in my white heels. My knees are shaking. But still I march forward on the arm of the only male in my life I’ve ever thought of as a father. He isn’t really, but he’s the only man my mom brought home over the years to whom I formed any real emotional attachment before they’d split ways. Due to his philandering ways, he was out of our life more than he was in it. But when he was around, something inside of me recognized something inside of him, and I cared for him.

I swallow down my fear. It’s only nerves. It’s normal. This is the natural order of things: you grow up, you get married, you have a family. That’s how it’s done.

Then what?

I finally make eye contact with Garrett and search for…safety? Love? Answers?

Only my own fear reflects back. He can see the hesitation, the anxiety, the angst. He smiles cautiously. He’ll never admit what we both know.

Just before we reach the altar, I take one last look around. The gathering within the small church is there for only one purpose: to watch us get hitched.

I could run right now. This is my last chance. I could just turn around and make a run for it.

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About the Author

Michelle Bellon lives in the Pacific Northwest with her four children and boyfriend, Seth. She loves coffee and has an addiction to chapstick.

She works at a surgery center as a registered nurse and in her spare time writes novels. She writes in the genres of romance suspense, young adult, women’s fiction, and literary fiction. She has won four literary awards to include making finalist in the New Age category in the USA Book Awards for her latest release, The Fire Inside.  Her latest release is the contemporary romance, Restless.

For More Information

• Visit Michelle Bellon’s website.

• Connect with Michelle on Facebook and Twitter.

Find out more about Michelle at Goodreads.

Spotlight: That Second Chance by Meghan Quinn

Get To Know Author Meghan Quinn

1. In the past few years you have written dozens of novels! First off, how do you find the time? And second, how has becoming a bestselling author changed your life?

I have the best partner in life ever that helps out with everything around the house, including the kids. I also have a very overactive imagination so when I get into a scene, my fingers fly, giving me high word counts in a short amount of time. Even though it looks like I’m working all the time, I make sure to make time for my family, ending every day at five at night. And hitting the USA Today bestselling list was a huge goal of mine I had ever since I started writing. It meant everything to me.

2. What can you tell us about the first time you sat down to write with the goal of completing a novel?

I was a maniac. I wrote the book in a week. Yes, a week. It was insane. I had so much to say because I was thinking about it consistently while commuting an hour and twenty minutes one way to work. When my fingers hit the keyboard, it al flew out of me.

3. What is the best part about being a romance author? What is the most difficult part?

The best part is constantly being able to create, break it up, and then find it again. It’s such an old, classic formula, but it’s my favorite of all time. The most difficult is trying not to gross people out with terminology during sex scenes. There are only so many words that are on the OKAY list. Sometimes it can be restricting.

4. What draws you to writing romance novels? Specifically why is it important that your characters have happily-ever-afters?

Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved love. Instead of going out in high school, I would stay at home and watch romantic comedies. I was fascinated with falling in love and the heartbreak, and then the make up. I love everything about it. I think we all deserve a HEA, why not give it to our characters too?

5. Even though you include realism and heartbreak in your books, the thing readers really takeaway is sense of fun you pack into the novels. How is it you (and your characters) are able to find humor in everyday things?

I’ve always found myself to live in the clouds, in a land of cupcakes and fun, it’s just my personality so whenever I’m in a situation, I usually can find the fun in it and of course, I’m really good at embellishing.

6. Give us a quick snapshot of your newest novel That Second Chance.

Four brothers, small town romance, all single, all cursed. Will they be able to find love, even though they’re the most eligible yet untouchable bachelors in Port Snow, Maine?

7. What makes Ren and Griff’s story special to you?

Their meet cute is probably one of my most favorite of all time. Wayward moose, volunteer firefighter, a crazed woman new to town, looking for help. It’s all charming, funny, and perfect.

8. What’s next for this series?

Rogan!!! AND OH MY GOD!!! His story is . . . gah! I can’t even tell you how in love with it I am. There is mystery, intrigue, questions that need to be answered and so much swoon you might just fall off your chair while reading.

Summary:

It was supposed to be an innocent night, celebrating my brother’s birthday. Nothing was supposed to go wrong. We’d vowed to be on our best behavior after all . . .

But it only took one rowdy night with my brothers to flip my world upside down. One unlucky encounter saddled us with a family curse and the promise of doomed relationships. I laughed it off immediately. “Yeah, right,” I thought. “A love curse. Ha!”

Boy, was I wrong.

Word spreads quickly in a town like mine; rumors about that night soon made us the most eligible yet untouchable bachelors in Port Snow, Maine. As a subject of endless gossip and speculation, I could kiss my dating life goodbye.

It would have stayed that way if Ren Winters, the new girl in town, hadn’t crashed into my life. Brave, beautiful, and smart—her vivacious thirst for a fresh start has given me hope that maybe, just maybe, I can have one too.

Everyone wishes for that second chance . . . but could this really be mine?

Excerpt

I’m counting out our register drawer, trying to stay focused on the numbers whipping through my head, but it’s difficult with Reid’s constant small talk. I jot down another tally mark on the paper in front of me and set aside a stack of bills.

“Hello, are you listening?” Reid asks, sounding annoyed.

“No. I’m counting.”

“Well, I’m talking about you, so you might want to lend me your ear for a second.”

Huffing, I set the cash on the counter, knowing my very persistent brother won’t be quiet until I give him my full attention. “What’s up, Reid?”

Satisfied, he smiles. “You should ask her out.”

“Ask who out?”

“Ren.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. “No.”

I go back to counting, but Reid starts snapping his fingers at me. “Hey, I wasn’t finished.” I look back up at him, not even slightly interested in this conversation. “I saw the way she was looking at you today. I think she likes you.”

“You’re confused. She was probably just being nice, since I’m the guy who pulled her out of the window of her car after her accident. And even if she does like me, which I highly doubt, there’s no interest on my end. So that’s the end of that.”

“Bull,” Reid and Jen both say at the same time.

Christ. My two most nagging siblings are ganging up on me. Just what I need when I’m trying to get home and relax.

“Can we not make this into a dissection of my personal life, please? I’m not in the mood, and I want to get this done so I can go home.”

“Griff, she’s pretty, she’s sweet, and she’s smart. She’s new to town and, I’m sure, could use a friend,” Jen says just as the door opens, its bell chiming through the space. Brig pops in, grease all over his shirt and a smirk on his face.

Uh-oh. There’s only one reason why he’d be smirking at me that way.

“What are we talking about?” He rubs his hands together and takes a seat on a barstool near the window. “If it’s about the hot new teacher in town, I want in on this conversation.”

“We’re trying to convince Griff to ask her out.”

Brig slow claps his appreciation. “Novel idea. I think they’re a perfect match.”

“I’m not asking her out,” I huff, giving up on the register and leaning against the wall behind me, arms crossed. There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on counting while these three are yapping in my ear.

“Why the hell not? She’s perfect for you,” Brig says, a little insulted at my rejection. “Before you even say no, you should at least get to know her a little. I told her today she could borrow your truck while her car is in the shop.”

I count to five before answering, tamping down my temper. “Why the hell would you do that?” Okay, maybe I didn’t tamp it down enough.

“Uh, because she lives three houses down from you?” Brig rolls his eyes as if I’m the stupid one in this conversation. “She needs some help, so be a knight in shining armor, dude. Help out the damsel in distress and then make out with her on the beach. Maybe cop a feel; get some for once.”

“I’m not doing that,” I answer, going back to the money, letting them know this conversation is over.

“And why not?” Jen asks.

“Because I’m not interested in starting or being in a relationship. I’m happy with how my life is right now, and I don’t need anything complicating it.”

“But she has heart eyes for you,” Brig says like a jackass.

“Don’t worry; there are plenty of Knightly brothers to choose from,” I reply.

“Come on, Griff, how fun can going home to an empty, lonely house really be?” Jen chimes in, concern evident in her voice.

I shift on my feet, my voice terse. “I like my house. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Silence falls between us, an awkward air moving in like a fast-moving cold front.

“Is this because of New Orleans?” Reid finally asks, taking a seat next to Brig. Both of my brothers fix their gazes on me, waiting for an answer.

Why is this a thing whenever we talk about my love life? Can’t they just let it go? What happened was … hell, I don’t even know how to describe it. All I know is I don’t foresee love in my future.

Claire was the love of my life, and I lost her; in a blink of an eye she was gone. I’m not going through that again. Not ever.

Shaking my head, I turn away from my family. This conversation is over.

And with that, I take the cash to the back office, where I can get some peace and quiet.

Ask Ren Winters out on a date? Not going to happen.

And she’s not going to drive my truck either. I think that’s evident in the fact that she drove her car in between two trees.

Can’t blame a guy there.

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. An author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

Connect:

Website: https://authormeghanquinn.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormeghan.quinn

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorMegQuinn

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7360513.Meghan_Quinn

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Spotlight: The Desire Card by Lee Matthew Goldberg

Any wish fulfilled for the right price. That's the promise the Desire Card gives to its elite clients. But if the Card doesn’t feel like they’ve been justly compensated, the “price” will be more menacing than the clients could ever imagine.   

Harrison Stockton learns this lesson all too well. Harrison has lived an adult life of privilege and excess: a high-powered job on Wall Street along with a fondness for alcohol and pills, and a family he adores, yet has no time for. All of this comes crashing to a halt when he loses his executive job and discovers he has liver cirrhosis with mere months left to live.

After finding himself far down on the donor list, Harrison takes matters into his own hands. This decision sparks a gritty and gripping quest that takes him to the slums of Mumbai in search of a black market organ and forces him under the Desire Card’s thumb. When his moral descent threatens his wife and children, Harrison must decide whether to save himself at any cost, or do what’s right and put a stop to the Card.

THE DESIRE CARD is a taut international thriller that explores what a man will do to survive when money isn’t always enough to get everything he desires. It’s the first book in a series followed by PREY NO MORE that focuses on other people indebted to this sinister organization, where the actual price is the cost of one’s soul.

Book Excerpt:

HARRISON STUMBLED INTO CENTRAL PARK CLUTCHING THE SILVER BRIEFCASE, HIS BODY SHAKING FROM BEING HUNTED. Clouds clogged the sky. The trees seemed like creatures towering over him. He turned around to see the man in the Humphrey Bogart mask running toward the entrance, a gun bulging from the guy’s inside pocket. The man’s cold eyes scanned the park, zeroing in. Harrison took off down a dirt path until he was alone with only the wind ringing in his ears.

He wanted to collapse; he begged himself to just give in. Nature would destroy him soon anyway, and his shins were starting to feel like they’d been repeatedly stabbed. He coughed up an excess of blood and mucus that spilled down a rock. Now he’d gone so far down the trail that he couldn’t see where he entered. The sound of footsteps came from all directions. A distorted laugh caused all the nearby pigeons to shoot toward the sky. The laugh was followed by an eerie whistle that became louder and louder as he spun around expecting to see his pursuer.

A shadow passed behind a tree, bigger than any animal. He propped himself up against a rock, too exhausted to move any farther, closing his eyes and waiting to die. He could see tomorrow’s headlines declaring his death as a mugging gone wrong.

“Gracie,” he cried, trembling. “Brent, my boy…oh God.”

He had pissed himself now, the urine hot and sticky as it trickled down his pants leg. He still held the silver briefcase close to his chest, resolving not to let it go without a fight.

The man in the Bogart mask emerged from behind a tree holding a gun.

“Just hand it over, Mr. Stockton,” the man said. The voice box attached to his mouth made him sound robotic, weirdly calm. “You don’t want this to get any more complicated than it already has.”

The man made a grab for the briefcase, but Harrison held on tight.

“You’ll kill me anyway,” Harrison yelled, spooking any pigeons that hadn’t already flown away.

“Only if you force me to do so.”

The man kicked Harrison in the shin, causing him to nearly buckle over. Harrison was thrown to the ground, the man pinning him down. He still managed to hold onto the briefcase as if it was fused to his hand.

“The Boss doesn’t know about what you’ve done yet,” the man said, hitting Harrison’s head against the hard dirt. “Do you understand what that means? That means you can still live. And he’ll never find out as long as we get what we’re owed.”

“Why would you do that for me?” he asked, seeing four masked men spinning around.

The man stepped back and pointed the gun between Harrison’s eyes.

“The Boss doesn’t like when things don’t go according to plan. I could be in as much trouble as you for letting this slip-up happen. So let’s make this easy for both of us.”

Harrison got on one elbow and hoisted himself up.

“Do I have your word?”

The man nodded.

“And my family? My wife…my kids? I wouldn’t have to worry about them being hurt?”

“As much as you might think that you are our sole concern, we have an entire organization to run beyond your pithy life. Now I will count to ten and if you don’t hand over the briefcase, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”  

Harrison thought about what his life had really amounted to. All the hours he’d slaved at Sanford & Co., making rich people boatloads richer. Getting into the office before dawn and often heading home in the middle of the night. Sacrificing his family, his youth, his sanity. How it had made him into a drinker, a serial gorger of all vices, just so he could forget about what he was losing. After all of that, what did he have left to show?

“…8…9…10,” the man said, about to pull the trigger.

“All right, all right.”

Harrison handed over the briefcase. The man opened it up and appeared to be satisfied, a smirking grin visible through his mask.

“I’ll leave you with this nugget of wisdom,” he said, without putting the gun away. “If what you did manages to compromise us in any way, if there are any rippling after-effects, be prepared to come across the Boss. He’s known to wear a Clark Gable mask.” The man’s smirk had disappeared. “He only appears when he’s ready to bloody his hands. Good day, Mr. Stockton.”

“Who are you people? Under the masks…who are you really?”

The man raised the gun over Harrison’s head.

“I doubt you’ll ever find out,” he said, and struck Harrison on the forehead with the handle.

A trickle of blood spilled down Harrison’s nose and felt cold on his tongue. He slunk down and rested his cheek against the dirt, watching the man in the mask take off through the trees, the silver briefcase shining like a beam of light snaking through the leaves. And then the man finally disappeared—as if he was nothing more than a nightmare brought to life and extinguished once the fitful dreamer finally woke.

Harrison pressed against his rib cage and felt for his engorged liver. Cursed at it. Wanted to tear it from his stomach. He’d been poisoned from within for too long, his unending punishment for all of his crimes. Blood zigzagged into his eyes as the wound on his forehead opened up even more. With his other hand he reached into his pocket and removed his wallet. A thin metallic card fell from out of a sleeve and sat in a puddle of blood that had collected in the dirt.

He crumpled it up in his fist since it was responsible for letting these psychopaths into his life. He knew he’d never feel completely settled again, always worried that they might come after him and his family. The Desire Card had caused him to seek out gruesome and despicable wishes. From the instant this devil’s temptation had been placed in his hands, his moral compass never stood a chance. So he chucked it into the air and watched it sail over the rocks for some other fool to find.

“I’m sorry, Helene,” he mumbled to the wind. He knew he’d have to come clean about everything. His head throbbed, and he recalled a memory from twenty-five years ago. Spying her in the quad at Chilton College drinking a cherry Coke, tan and shapely from field hockey, the entire campus becoming muted except for her. He took a chance by flirting miserably and changing the course of their lives.

She would’ve been better off if they had never met. In such a short amount of time, he’d fallen so far. Now because of him people had been sliced up, left for dead, and soon he’d follow them to his own grave. As he drifted off into unconsciousness, he remembered that it all began to spiral out of control on his last day at Sanford & Co. over a month ago, this treacherous path he embarked on, his dark and dried-up destiny.  

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About the Author

Lee Matthew Goldberg is the author of SLOW DOWN and THE MENTOR (St. Martin’s Press), which was acquired by Macmillan Entertainment with the film in development. He has been published in multiple languages and nominated for the 2018 Prix du Polar. The first two books in a thriller series, THE DESIRE CARD and PREY NO MORE, are forthcoming from Fahrenheit Press in winter 2019. His pilots and screenplays have been finalists in Script Pipeline, Stage 32, We Screenplay, the New York Screenplay, Screencraft, and the Hollywood Screenplay contests. After graduating with an MFA from the New School, his writing has also appeared in the anthology DIRTY BOULEVARD, The Millions, The Montreal Review, The Adirondack Review, Essays & Fictions, The New Plains Review, and others. He is the co-curator of The Guerrilla Lit Reading Series (guerrillalit.wordpress.com). He lives in New York City. Follow him at leematthewgoldberg.com and @LeeMatthewG.

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Spotlight: The Bluestocking by Christi Caldwell

You Might Be a Bluestocking If... with Author Christi Caldwell

In my newest novel, The Bluestocking, Gertrude, the eldest Killoran sister, has spent a lifetime being underestimated—especially by her own family. She may seem as vulnerable as a kitten, but given the chance she can be as fierce as a tiger. Her adopted brother Stephen has just been snatched back by his true father, and she’ll be damned if she relinquishes the boy to the man reviled throughout London as the Mad Marquess.

Still haunted by a deadly tragedy that left him publicly despised, Lord Edwin holds only hatred for the Killorans—the people he believes kidnapped his son. And not one of them will ever see the boy again. But when Gertrude forces her way into the household and stubbornly insists that she remain as Stephen’s governess, Edwin believes he may have found someone madder than himself. 

With every moment he shares with the tenderhearted Gertrude, Edwin’s anger softens into admiration . . . and more. It is possible that the woman he loathed may be the only person who can heal his broken soul?

Gertrude was such a wonderful character to write. She’s the eldest of her siblings and firmly on the shelf. She’s incredibly diverse in her strengths and in her interests and in the knowledge she possesses: it’s a knowledge that really is all-encompassing, spanning furniture-making to the care of animals to skills for surviving on the streets. In addition, she’s been responsible for educating the children in her family’s care, and what I found so fascinating is that she knows the value of education and what she’s been providing has been so important, and yet so many have failed to appreciate the power of her contributions.  

In honor of Gertrude, an intelligent, interesting, and ultimately irresistible heroine, I have written a short game of "You Might Be A Bluestocking If..." so you can test yourself to see what you have in common with Gertrude. 

• You might be a bluestocking if...you have more than one cat.

• You might be a bluestocking if...your hands are permanently ink stained from your writing.

• You might be a bluestocking if...you have an in-depth knowledge of ancient furniture design.

• You might be a bluestocking if…you prefer lectures to balls.

• You might be a bluestocking if…you would rather have a book in your hands than needlework.

Summary

Gertrude, the eldest Killoran sister, has spent a lifetime being underestimated—especially by her own family. She may seem as vulnerable as a kitten, but given the chance, she can be as fierce as a tiger. Her adopted brother, Stephen, has just been snatched back by his true father, and she’ll be damned if she relinquishes the boy to the man reviled throughout London as the Mad Marquess.

Still haunted by a deadly tragedy that left him publicly despised, Lord Edwin holds only hatred for the Killorans—the people he believes kidnapped his son. And not one of them will ever see the boy again. But when Gertrude forces her way into the household and stubbornly insists that she remain as Stephen’s governess, Edwin believes he may have found someone madder than himself.

With every moment he shares with the tenderhearted Gertrude, Edwin’s anger softens into admiration . . . and more. Is it possible that the woman he loathed may be the only person who can heal his broken soul?

Excerpt

Who was this . . . daughter of Diggory? The one few spoke of and about whom little was known.

Edwin pushed himself away from the door, and folding his arms at his chest, he took slow, predatory steps closer, walking a path around her. His earlier assessment in the darkened foyer of the woman had proven correct. Drab brown hair. Nondescript brown eyes. Of medium height, and in possession of a slender frame that left her cloak hanging unflatteringly upon her, there was nothing extraordinary about the last unwed Killoran. Which was no doubt why she’d not snagged herself a wealthy or powerful husband as her sisters had already done. At his lengthy scrutiny, she dared him with her eyes. And yet for her . . . ordinariness, there was a strength of spirit that radiated, casting a soft blush upon cream-white cheeks, that marked her as . . . interesting. She was interesting. He stopped abruptly. Seeing this woman in any light except the darkened one was a betrayal to his late wife and his children, both living and dead . . . and himself.

“I was clear with my demands. Get out now, Miss Diggory.”

The stubborn chit pursed her slightly too-full lips. “As I said earlier, you were less clear than you give yourself credit for,” she challenged, ignoring the latter part of his directive. My God, she is an insolent bit of baggage. “And my name is Killoran.”

The names were synonymous and interchangeable.

Edwin stopped before her so only a pace divided them. “And tell me, where was I not clear?” he purred. “Was it the part about making sure Broderick Diggory hangs, as he deserves, that was not clear?” The color bled from her cheeks. “Or was it my stated intentions for your sisters . . . what are their names? Ophelia? Cleopatra?” he asked, mocking that Shakespearean queen’s name, and the woman in front of him frowned deeper. “How . . . unfortunate it would be if their business ventures were both to fail.”

The young woman curled and uncurled her coarse hands at her sides. “Do not threaten my family,” she said coolly.

He’d hand it to her. She remained undaunted.

“Or what, Miss Diggory?” A muscle ticked at the corner of her right eye, but she did not rise to the bait, either. “Will you set my townhouse afire and attempt to steal my son . . . again?”

Her features leached even more of their color, leaving those previously blushing cheeks a ghastly grey-white. And for her earlier brave show, it was her turn to falter. “I didn’t . . .” And he celebrated that triumph over his enemy.

“What was that?” he barked, cupping a hand around his ear. “You didn’t what?” Destroy my life? Shatter my family? “Kidnap my son?” he settled for, refusing to voice aloud his greatest agonies before this of all women.

She flinched.

“Now leave, and tell your real brother if he violates our arrangement once more, using you or another one of your . . . sisters or his henchmen to do his work for him, I’ll take you all down.” His in-laws’ earlier recriminations flooded forward. It was just something else they’d been right about.

Edwin had stomped over to his desk when he registered the absolute silence—more specifically, the lack of retreating footfalls.

He turned back.

Miss Diggory jutted her chin up defiantly. “No one sent me, my lord. I am here of my own volition.”

He chuckled, that rusty, ill-used laugh more a growl than anything that could ever be confused with a real expression of mirth. No one came here of their own volition. As a rule, the world avoided him.

Shifting direction, he returned to the stubborn chit’s side, and leaning down, he placed his mouth close to her temple once more and fought the maddening pull of whatever damned perfume she dabbed behind her ears. “Do you think I’m foolish enough all these years later to believe a lie dripping off a Diggory’s lips?”

The young woman’s back moved up and down, an indication of her rapid breath. Of her fear. A lifetime ago, he’d have sooner chopped off his left hand than deliberately taunt a woman and take pleasure in her fear. No longer. That pathetic excuse of a man who’d gotten his wife and babe killed, and the other son snatched, reveled in this woman’s unease. “Hmm?” he prodded, and she jumped.

“I have no reason to lie to you, my lord,” she said calmly, and as she spoke, her breath, containing a whispery trace of honey, filtered from her lips and fanned his mouth. Another unexpectedly sweet scent, at odds with her past and name and sins. It enticed, drawing his gaze to her mouth and holding his focus there, mesmerized. “There is nothing I want, need, or desire.” She darted her tongue out and traced the plump seam of her lips. And God forgive him, his gut clenched. For even as self-loathing spiraled through him, something far worse, far more perilous and viler and more treacherous, held him in its snare: desire. “The only reason I’ve come . . . the only worry I had . . . was for Stephen.”

Stephen.

That single name, spoken aloud, snapped whatever siren’s trap she’d sucked him momentarily into. “August.” Had there ever been a doubt as to his insanity, this quixotic fascination with the woman’s slightly too-full mouth as she spoke was evidence enough of it.

She tipped her head, and one of the few brown strands that had managed a curl bounced at her shoulder.

Edwin flared his nostrils. “His name is August Rudolph Thadeus Stephen Warren, the Earl of Greyley.” He flicked a stare over her face. “You’ve no relation to him. He is His Lordship to you.” Stalking over to the front of the room, he pulled the door open. “Now that you’ve seen him”—he peeled his lip in a mocking sneer—“safely delivered to his rightful home, you are dismissed. You may leave now.”

Gertrude Killoran drew in a breath. “I am afraid I cannot do that.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And whyever not?”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I beg your pardon?” What more could she possibly want or expect of him?

The young woman clasped her palms before her, like a nun at the abbey. “I’m staying.”

Confusion rooted around his mind. “Staying?” he repeated. “Staying where?”

“Here.” She settled her features into a serene expression he’d have believed impossible for a Diggory. “Indefinitely,” she clarified.

Edwin rocked back on his heels.

My God, I’ve finally found someone madder than myself.

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling, RITA-nominated author Christi Caldwell blames authors Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught for luring her into the world of historical romance. When Christi was at the University of Connecticut, she began writing her own tales of love. She believes that the most perfect heroes and heroines have imperfections, and she rather enjoys torturing her couples before crafting them a well-deserved happily ever after.

The author of the Wicked Wallflowers series, which includes The Governess, The Hellion, and The Vixen, Christi lives in southern Connecticut, where she spends her time writing, chasing after her son, and taking care of her twin princesses-in-training. Fans who want to keep up with the latest news and information can sign up for Christi’s newsletter at www.ChristiCaldwell.com or follow her on Facebook (AuthorChristiCaldwell) or Twitter (@ChristiCaldwell).

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Spotlight: Then Came You by Kate Meader

Then Came You
Kate Meader
(Laws of Attraction #3)
Published by: Loveswept
Publication date: May 7th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

In the courtroom, they’re rivals. In the bedroom, they’re . . . divorced. But could the road trip from hell lead to a second chance at love?

“I love Kate Meader’s books!”—Kelly Jamieson

Aubrey Gates is the hottest divorce lawyer in Chicago, a barb-tongued stiletto with legs that go on for miles. When her cool gray eyes meet mine across the battlefield, I want her like I’ve never wanted anyone or anything. Then I remember who she is: the woman who brought me to my knees. The woman who destroyed my faith in relationships.

The woman I used to call . . . wife.

And she needs a favor from me, Grant Lincoln.

It seems my ex forgot to mention the demise of our marriage to her dear old grammy, and now we’re both expected to attend her ninetieth birthday party. In Boston. And because it isn’t already awkward enough, Aubrey and I are driving there together from Chicago. That’s more than a thousand miles of tension, heartbreak, and barely concealed lust.

A little piece of paper might say we’re over, but this road trip is the true test. I intend to get my wife back . . . and I won’t stop until “I do.”

Kate Meader’s super-sexy Laws of Attraction novels can be read together or separately:
DOWN WITH LOVE • ILLEGALLY YOURS • THEN CAME YOU

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—

EXCERPT:

“Ms. Gates.”

Damn, the man himself has to appear and ruin a perfectly fine fantasy. He looks like the Terminator in Tom Ford. I can assure you that he didn’t dress so well before I met him. He didn’t even use chopsticks.

“Mr. Lincoln.”

“Oh, hold up, please!” Just before the elevator doors close, Serena Gleason, one of my colleagues at Kendall, joins us inside. She flashes a grin. “Aubrey, heard you got your ass handed to you by—Grant! Didn’t see you there.” Unlikely, given that the man is about as impossible to miss as a redwood.

“Serena, how you doin’?” Grant’s syrup drenches the entire car and he leans in to buss her cheek. “A little birdie told me some lucky guy’s scooped you right up. Congratulations.”

Serena flashes her hand, showing off a rock the size of a planet. She’s marrying her hunky personal trainer. “Thanks, he is lucky.” Sighing for a couple of seconds at the sight of her ring, she raises her gaze and frowns at me. “What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“She won’t say,” Grant offers. “I’m thinking maybe a tryout for the Hawks.”

My eye roll is epic.

“Oh, there’s a story here.” Serena narrows her eyes in suspicion. I’ll be a source of gossip, visits from senior partners, and hopefully a tray of cupcakes by five.

The elevator reaches the lobby—finally—and we all step out and stand around awkwardly like we need to discuss our next moves. Sushi or Italian, friends?

Serena divides a look between the two of us. “Should I play referee? Or maybe something else?”

I shut that nonsense down immediately. “I’ll walk back to the office with you, Rena.”

“Got a minute, Bean?”

Again, with that Bean business. I can’t. Not now.

Serena mouths “Bean” at me. I want to thump her and stuff that rock on her finger in an uncomfortable place.

Instead, I say sweetly, “No—I need to get back. I’ve got a client’s financials to investigate, remember?”

“Been thinkin’ on your dilemma,” Grant says, his voice ridiculously lazy and sexy.

“My dilemma?”

“Thanksgiving, traveling with the beast, heading into the Lion’s Den.”

I shoot a look of not here at him, but Serena has already sniffed blood. “The Lion’s Den? Color me intrigued!”

He looks amused. “Think you’d prefer we discuss this in private.”

“Discuss what? How you tried to bypass discovery in Judge Jamieson’s court like a first year associate?”

“Nah. Me driving you to Boston for Thanksgiving so you can pretend to your grandmother that we’re still married.”

I gasp, which sets off a chain of unfortunate events. Slightly panicked, I move closer to Grant instead of farther away, inhale how good he smells, become light-headed with the pleasure of it, then step back. I look like a dancing fool and Serena definitely notices, her eyes going wide with wonder at my smoothness.

“Rena, I’ll catch you later.”

“Yeah, you will, girl.” Serena toddles off to get the rumor mill grinding at the office.

I shoot stabby eyes at Grant. “Nice going, idiot.”

“No problem. Let’s get coffee in the food court. Won’t take long to sort out the details.”

What details? This isn’t happening. Yet I turn, trancelike, toward the escalator.

I know he’s watching my ass with those dark blue eyes of his. I’m not much taller than five four and I need heels to strike fear and envy. But I’ve always had a very well-proportioned behind that looks good in pencil skirts and Grant has always been an ass-man.

Like the recent reawakening of my long-dormant sexuality, the sway of my hips as I walk ahead of my ex-husband fills me with power. I know it’s ridiculous to feel this way because of a male gaze, but I can’t help it. It’s his gaze that fuels me.

Author Bio:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Originally from Ireland, Kate cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Harlequins thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians, and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, and she's there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with alpha heroes and strong heroines who can match their men quip for quip.

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Spotlight: The Revenge Plan by Linda Kage

The Revenge Plan
Linda Kage
Publication date: April 29th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

After I caught my boyfriend cheating, I tried to be mature about it with an amicable split. But he took his retaliation too far, and I have officially had enough. No more Miss Nice Haven.

No one is allowed to lie to me, betray, embarrass, and devastate me, fill me with self-doubt, or put my future at risk, and expect to get away with it. He is going to feel my wrath.

Enter Wick Webster, his archenemy.

Nothing would provoke my ex more than to see me moving on with the one guy he hates most, so that’s exactly what I plan to do.

The only hitch in my brilliant scheme is Wick himself. He’s just gotta be all love-not-war and peace-is-the-only-way. He’s more concerned about helping me heal than seeking my sweet revenge.

And what the hell is it about his soothing presence and yummy looks that calls to me until I forget how much pain I’m in? He’s making it awfully hard to use and abuse him for my malicious means. The damn guy is making me fall for him.

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—

EXCERPT:

“You guys are totally off your rockers. I am not having sex with anyone just to get back at Topher. To me, that’d be like drinking poison and expecting him to die from it.”

Bentley gasped, affronted, and pressed a hand to her chest. “Sex isn’t poison.”

I rolled my eyes because SHE hadn’t been cheated on recently.

“Seriously,” Teagan went on. “Sex can be good for you. It’s actually the number one reliever in vaginal atrophy.”

I blinked. “In…what?”

“Inflammation, dryness, and thinning of the vaginal walls.”

“Huh?” I furrowed my brow, wondering how I’d landed myself in a sex-education class.

“You must massage the tissue down there, exercise it regularly and get the blood flowing so it remains healthy and elastic. Otherwise, it’s going to dry out like an unused rubber band and crumble apart.” She balled her hand into a fist as if wadding up something. “Just a brittle piece of hopelessness.”

Ouch.

Why did I suddenly want to wince and protectively cover my hoo-ha with both of my hands? Seriously, I’d just found an old rubber band last week. It had dried up and fallen to pieces as soon as I had picked it up.

Lord, I didn’t want my vagina to crumble apart like that.

But then Bella—bless her soul—rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh, whatever. She doesn’t need a man to get the blood flowing down there. My faithful BOB has kept me more satisfied and elasticized than any human douche ever could.”

Teagan merely shrugged. “It’s more fun with a real penis though. Just saying.”

“Wow,” Lucy murmured, shaking her head. “JB must have some kind of magical cock to make you talk this way because, before him, you were all like, eww, men are so overrated. Sex is gross. Keep it away from me.”

Lifting her chin, Teagan sniffed proudly and rubbed her swollen belly. “He does. It even sparkles in the sunlight.”

“Ack,” I cried, covering my ears with my hands. “It is so impossible to think of JB that way. He’s like a cousin to me, T.”

“You know, you don’t actually have to have sex with anyone,” Bentley spoke up, making me glance at her in confusion. “You just have to make Topher believe you did.”

“Or…” Bella countered. “As much of a showboat as Topher is, the best way to get back at him would be to just move on and be happy. I have a feeling him seeing you moving on without him might drive him crazier than anything.”

Author Bio:

Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.

Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children's literature from The Institute of Children's Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.

Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.

Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor...or Hulk (can't decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny.

Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.

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