Spotlight: The Text God by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers

Publication date: April 1st 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Text and you shall receive…

Jen Flanders moved to New York to be an artist. This translates into walking dogs for money, practicing yoga for sanity, and hitting up her friends at a local bakery to supplement her diet. Rent is due and she’s running out of cash. After begging the universe for a sign that help is on the way, her phone pings with an incoming text. GOD: You can do it; I believe in you!

Gabriel Oliver Daly agreed to mentor a friend’s younger sister. Unbeknownst to him, after losing her phone, said sister uses her dog walker’s phone to text him about a job offer. He responds enthusiastically.

Jen can’t believe GOD is actually texting her! But who is she to question the ways of the universe? On the first day of texting, GOD gets her a job that will keep her afloat. On the second and third days he offers even more help.

Gabriel starts to think his friend’s sister might be too flighty to make it in the legal jungle of New York. Why exactly does she need a survival job? Wasn’t she supposed to be interviewing for a position as a junior lawyer? And why is she texting him random (not to mention very personal) stuff all the time?

When they finally meet, Jen realizes GOD isn’t a deity but a divinely handsome lawyer. A complete stranger has answered all her prayers. After all, God does move in mysterious ways.

Excerpt

Jen 

Bending over in Downward Dog, I release the whoosh of breath I’ve been holding for what feels like the last three days. Then I have a stern talk with myself. It goes like this:

Jennifer Flanders, you’re an artist. You are a highly evolved soul who is temporarily off track. While dog walking isn’t your dream job and picking up copious amounts of poop is not fulfilling in and of itself, you’re lucky to have a job. And with such cute furry love nuggets who worship you unconditionally. With the exception of Brutus, of course, who loves nobody.

Then, as I do, I answer myself.

You haven’t sold one painting since you moved to New York. Not. One. Therefore, you can claim to be as advanced a soul as you want, but you are no artist. 

Back to Positive Me: Screw you. I went to art school for three years and apprenticed with Peony Parks. That’s Peony. Parks. Second only to Georgia O’Keeffe in matters of all things flowers and possibly girly bits. Those lilies do bring to mind something of a non-botanical nature. I am an artist no matter what you say.  

Negative Me: Nope. Not. Lalalalalalala, I can’t hear you!

I’m as tense as the rubber bands that hold a tennis ball together.  I gradually retreat out of my current yoga pose and move into a headstand. As the blood rushes to my frontal lobe, I pray to the Universe for peace, strength, creativity, and either more clients or a better-paying survival job. I can’t even afford new art supplies right now, and I’ve been told by every gallery that I’ve walked into that they don’t want me coming back until I have something new to show them. 

For some reason my mind drifts off to the morning of Gram’s funeral. I remember Pops telling me that I need to ask for miracles and not to turn away from them when they happen. “Dear God, send me a sign,” I plead. “Just a little something to give me the strength to carry on.”

Not a minute later, maybe not even thirty seconds later, my phone pings. Gently tucking and rolling out of my headstand, I strike a quick warrior pose and namaste my goldfish Frank before checking to see who texted. 

The yoga gods would probably prefer all electronics be banned during times of spiritual mind/body goings-on, but they aren’t worried about eviction like I am.

When I see who the text is from, I have to stop and rub my eyes before reading it again. Same result. I read:

GOD: Word on the street is you need a little career guidance. Just wanted to let you know I’m here for you.  

What the … God is texting me? Is this some new Verizon service? Because if it is, what in the heck am I paying for it?

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback

About the Authors

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Connect:

https://whitneydineen.com/

https://twitter.com/whitneydineen

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8145525.Whitney_Dineen

https://www.instagram.com/whitneydineenauthor/

https://www.facebook.com/Whitney-Dineen-Author-11687019412/

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Connect:

https://mjsummersbooks.wordpress.com/

https://twitter.com/mjsummersbooks

https://www.instagram.com/mj_summers_author/

https://www.facebook.com/MJSummersAuthorPage

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17105602.Melanie_Summers

Spotlight: The Mix-Up by Melanie Munton

(Southern Hearts Club, #3)
Publication date: April 6th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

She thought she accidentally slept with her boss…
Then she met his twin brother.

Real talk: I slept with my boss. Back before he even was my boss. Back when I had no clue who he was.

Real talk: My boss is an arrogant jerk. I hate him. If we didn’t work so well together, I would have told him exactly where he could shove his pompous attitude a long time ago.

Turns out…my boss has a twin. Identical twin.

Now I know why he’s always acted like our one night together never happened. Why he acted like he’d never met me before when I started working for him.

It wasn’t him that night. It was his brother.

A brother who’s just as gorgeous as my boss and a hell of a lot nicer.

Real talk: I’m kind of…bothered that it wasn’t my boss that night.

But that’s before certain revelations about that night come to light.

Excerpt

“Why did you keep working here?”

My head snaps up, my confused gaze colliding with Ryder’s. “What?”

His expression is inscrutable, but it’s…intense. Whatever is going on behind his blue eyes must be a doozy. “If you thought you had slept with your boss, why didn’t you just quit?”

“You really want to talk about this now?” While sober? 

I do confrontation best with some liquid courage.

He says nothing. Just watches me and waits.

I toss my pen onto the table. “Because if you didn’t remember it happening, then I could pretend like it never did, too. Clean slate.”

When his tongue slowly drags over his lower lip, I can’t tell if he likes that answer or not. 

I roll my eyes with a huff. “Plus, not to add to your already inflated ego, this is the best market and ad firm in the area, despite your abhorrent people skills. It was a dream job for me.”

He taps his finger against the gleaming wood of the table. Tap, tap, tap. “You made it clear right from the start that you weren’t my biggest fan. Can I now assume that was because you were angry that I, from your perspective, didn’t remember us having sex?”

I have no answer. 

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I’m afraid the truth will make me sound like a naïve girl who became obsessed with a guy after only one night.

FYI, I didn’t.

Tap, tap, tap of his finger. “But being angry implies that you wanted me to remember.” A muscle pops in his jaw. “It was that good for you?”

‘Kay, now I’m rattled.

Because now I know that I never slept with Ryder Colson. My long-time annoyance with him is unfounded, yet it feels as strong as ever and I don’t know what to do about it.

“We’re not talking about this,” I state firmly.

“Why not?”

Seriously? “Because now I know it wasn’t you. Which means that none of this is your business. We”—I gesture between us—“never slept together.”

Your brother and I did was the unspoken part of that sentence.

He hears it. And his nostrils flare. 

“You’re right,” he admits gruffly. “It wasn’t me. Because if it had been me, I wouldn’t have forgotten a single detail. Like Myles obviously did.”

My face goes slack. 

Did he just—? Did I hear him say—?

Ryder just took us into another realm. Another dimension. For the first time ever, he turned a sexual corner with me. One I thought we both silently agreed to never even approach, let alone maneuver around.

But he went there. He put it out there.

“Are you saying I’m not worth remembering?”

His face darkens, hardens. “Fuck, no. I’m saying anyone who doesn’t remember a night with you didn’t deserve to have you in the first place.”

I just stare…

…mouth agape…

…and stare some more…

…and drool a little…

I shake my head. Like a dog. What the frig is happening right now?

Is Ryder saying that he wants a night with me? Or is this just some male chauvinist thing where he has to assert himself as the most virile man in the village because he senses another encroaching on his territory?

He does realize I’m not his territory, though, right?

I’m not his anything. Except employee.

“I’d say it’s for me to decide whether or not someone deserves me,” I eventually say, my voice oddly hoarse.

Tap, tap, tap. “You never answered my question.”

I know which one he’s talking about, but I still ask. “What question?”

Tap, tap, tap. “Was it good for you?”

I cross my arms over my chest, assessing him. Okay, fine. He wants to go there? Let’s do this. “We’re talking about your brother here. You really want to know?”

Tap…tap…tap. “He may not remember it, but you clearly do. It couldn’t have been the worst you’ve ever had.”

“What if I said it was the best?”

His face reflects a range of emotions in a matter of seconds that confuses the crap out of me. At first, his eyes crinkle in the corners, as if he’s pleased. Then they narrow to slits as banked fury emanates from them. 

“Then I’d say that’s because I haven’t had you.”

My jaw unhinges like a snake’s. 

He slowly nods, his eyes burning holes through me. “Yeah, duchess. I said that.”

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback

About the Author

Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.
Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it’s boring to only stick to one sub-genre! From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.
Go visit Melanie’s website and sign up for her newsletter to stay updated on release dates, teasers, and other details for all of her projects!

Connect:
https://www.facebook.com/melaniemuntonauthor/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13976464.Melanie_Munton
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/melanie-munton
https://twitter.com/melanie_munton
https://www.melaniemunton.com/
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Spotlight: Say You're Mine by Layla Hagen

Release Date: April 6

I swear I didn’t mean to flirt with the world-famous Brayden Clarke—especially not right in the middle of an interview for a job.

It was a slip—or perhaps a gut reaction to his smoldering eyes and deep, sexy voice.

To my total disbelief, they give me the assignment. My task is simple: advise Brayden and his band on how to communicate with their fans. Easy-peasy. Or so I thought...

I can handle the job, but the sexy lead singer who's intent on getting under my skin might be too hot to resist.

But our lives are too different. His life is under constant scrutiny. I thrive on freedom and spontaneity. I like exploring the streets of New York and meeting up with my siblings without needing security detail.

But when we’re together, all our differences fade, and I can’t get enough of this man. And he won’t quit until he makes me his.

Buy on Amazon

Meet Layla Hagen

Welcome! My name is Layla Hagen and I am a Contemporary Romance author.

I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later. I write romantic stories and can't wait to share them with the world. And I drink coffee. Lots of it :-D

SIGN UP FOR MY MAILING LIST and find out about future books as soon as they are released! (just copy and paste this link in your browser to sign up): http://laylahagen.com/mailing-list-sign-up/

I am represented by Louise Fury (The Bent Agency)

Connect with Layla Hagen

Newsletter: http://laylahagen.com/newsletter/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaylaHagenBooks 

Website: www.laylahagen.com 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/laylahagen_author/ 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Layla-Hagen/e/B00IFMJ7PY 

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/layla-hagen

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7520984.Layla_Hagen 

Spotlight: Magical Midlife Misadventures by Jennifer L. Hart

Genre: Paranormal Women's Fiction 

A mountain of regrets. A bargain with a mischievous faery. Could tinkering with her past create a better future?

Joey Whitmore longs to escape her dead-end world. Facing a midlife crisis at age forty-two and still living with her mother, getting fired from yet another job is the proverbial last straw. So when a fae trickster in human guise offers a chance at changing her history, she figures there’s nothing left to lose.

Though skeptical of his magic, Joey accepts the sly prince’s enchanted hourglass and begins a reckless journey back in time. But as she tries to act as her own fairy godmother and reverse her mistakes, her blundering interference causes a chain of catastrophic consequences.

Will Joey’s attempts to alter her deadbeat destiny end up erasing her entire existence?

Over the Fairy Hill is the first entry in the Magical Midlife Misadventures paranormal women’s fiction series. If you like relatable characters, paranormal twists, and laugh-out-loud humor, then you’ll love Jennifer L. Hart’s endearing tale.

Buy Over the Faery Hill to grant a bag full of dubious wishes today!

Excerpt

I scrolled down through the listings, many of which were seasonal and wouldn’t start back up until spring. All of the nearby ski resorts were full up and things like ziplining and rafting were definitely warm weather-based. Plus, with my bum wrist, it wasn’t like I could tackle anything uber physical.  

Story of my life.  

Irritated, I snapped the laptop shut and stared out the window, massaging the ache in my wrist more out of habit than any real pain. My mother was right. At my age, not knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up was just plain sad.  

Maybe because the one thing I had truly wanted to be had been taken away from me at sixteen. My gaze fell on the 1st place ribbons, the trophies and newspaper clippings on the built-in bookcase across the way. Artistic gymnastics, first place. Six years running. A photo of me in midair, doing a back handspring off the balance beam. The headline read—Local gymnast is heading for Olympic glory.  

It had been more than hope though. It had been my whole life for as long as I could remember. Fate might as well have minced up to me, cracked her gum in my face, and said, “Sorry, Joey. No gold medal for you. How about a lifetime of scraping by instead?” I’d been groping for a purpose ever since. 

The Fae Side of Forty 

Magical Midlife Misadventures Book 2 

She made a bargain with a fae prince...but how high is the price?

Joey Whitmore has learned her lesson when it comes to magic—it just isn’t worth the toll. Her plan is to keep her nose clean and enjoy midlife to the fullest. Margarita Mondays, Taco Tuesdays, the works. But when the fae prince appears to call in his favor, Joey has no choice but to live up to the bargain she made and leave Wine Wednesday in her wake.

The ruse is simple. Play Robin’s mortal fiancé in exchange for wiping the slate clean. But the more she learns about the tricksy fae bachelor, the more Joey becomes convinced that the fae prince is hiding something…something that only magic can illuminate. Does Joey have what it takes to untangle herself from the fae or will she lose herself to them forever?

The Fae Side of Forty is the second entry in the Magical Midlife Misadventures paranormal women’s fiction series. If you like relatable characters, magical twists, and laugh-out-loud humor, then you’ll love Jennifer L. Hart’s endearing tale.

Buy The Fae Side of Forty and fall in love with magic now!

Buy on Amazon

About the Author 

USA Today bestselling author Jennifer L. Hart writes about characters that cuss, get naked, and often make poor but hilarious life choices. A native New Yorker, Jenn now lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her imaginary friends. Her works to date include the Damaged Goods mystery series and the Magical Midlife Misadventures.

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads 

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Spotlight: The Last Bookshop In London by Madeline Martin

Inspired by the true World War II history of the only bookshop to survive the Blitz, a sweeping story of wartime loss, romance, and the enduring power of literature, perfect for fans of The Paris Wife and The Lilac Girls

London, autumn 1940: the Blitz has only just begun when Grace Bennett arrives in London to find the city she’s spent a lifetime dreaming about now cast in the clouds of war, and all of her plans unraveling at the seams. After accepting a job at a charming bookshop nestled in the heart of the city, a haven for literary-minded locals, she feels like a fish out of water – she’s never been much of a reader, after all.

As the bombs rain down on the city night after night, a devastating air raid leaves London’s literary center in ruins, and the libraries and shops of Paternoster Row are destroyed in a firestorm. But against all odds, one bookshop miraculously survives. Through blackouts and air raids, Grace continues staffing the shop, discovering a newfound comfort in the power of words and storytelling to unite her community in ways she never imagined, a power that triumphs even the darkest nights of war-torn London.

Excerpt

August 1939 London, England 

GRACE BENNETT HAD ALWAYS DREAMED OF SOMEDAY living in London. Never did she imagine it would become her only option, especially not on the eve of war. 

The train pulled to a stop within Farringdon Station, its name clearly marked on the wall inside a strip of blue set within a red circle. People hovered on the platform, as eager to get on as those within were to get off. They wore smartly cut clothing in the chic styles of city life. Far more sophisticated than in Drayton, Norfolk. 

Equal parts nerves and eagerness vibrated about inside Grace. “We’ve arrived.” She looked at Viv beside her. 

Her friend clicked the top on her lipstick tube closed and gave a freshly applied vermillion smile. Viv glanced out the window, her gaze skimming the checkerboard of advertisements lining the curved wall. “After so many years of wishing we could be in London.” Her hand caught Grace’s in a quick squeeze. “Here we are.”

Back when they were mere girls, Viv had first mentioned the notion of moving away from dull Drayton for a far more exciting life in the city. It had been a wild concept then, to leave their slow-moving, familiar existence in the country for the bustling, fast-paced pulse of London. Never had Grace considered it might someday become a necessity.

But then, there was nothing left in Drayton for Grace anymore. At least nothing she cared to return to.

The ladies rose from their plush seats and took hold of their luggage. Each had only one case with them, faded things, beaten down more by age than use. Both were stuffed to the point of near-bursting and were not only impossibly heavy, but awkward to manage around the gas mask boxes slung over their shoulders. The ghastly things had to be brought with them everywhere, per the government, to ensure they’d be protected in the event of a gas attack.

Lucky for them, Britton Street was only a two-minute walk away, or so Mrs. Weatherford had said.

Her mother’s childhood friend had a room to let, one she’d offered a year ago when Grace’s mother first passed. The terms had been generous—two months for free while Grace acquired a job and even then, the rent would be discounted thereafter. Despite Grace’s longing to go to London, and despite Viv’s enthusiastic encouragement, Grace had remained in Drayton for nearly a year after in an attempt to pick up the pieces of her broken existence.

That was before she learned the house she’d lived in since her birth truly belonged to her uncle. Before he moved in with his overbearing wife and five children. Before life as she knew it shattered even further apart.

There was no room for Grace in her own home, a point her aunt had been eager to note often. What had once been a place of comfort and love became a place Grace felt unwelcome. When her aunt finally had the temerity to tell Grace to leave, she knew she had no other options.

Writing the letter to Mrs. Weatherford the previous month to see if the opportunity still held was one of the hardest things Grace had ever done. It had been a surrender to the challenges she faced, a terrible, soul-crushing failure. A capitulation that had rendered her the greatest failure.

Grace had never possessed much courage. Even now, she wondered if she would have managed her way to London had Viv not insisted they go together.

Trepidation knotted through her as they waited for the train’s gleaming metal doors to part and unveil a whole new world.

“Everything will be brilliant,” Viv whispered under her breath. “It will all be so much better, Grace. I promise.”

The air-powered doors of the electric train hissed open and they stepped onto the platform amid the push and pull of people coming and going all at once. Then the doors shushed closed behind them, and the gust of the train’s departure tugged at their skirts and hair.

An advert for Chesterfields on the far wall displayed a handsome lifeguard smoking a cigarette while another poster beside it called on the men of London to join the service.

It wasn’t only a reminder of a war their country might soon face, but how living in the city presented a greater element of danger. If Hitler meant to take Britain, he would likely set his sights on London.

“Oh, Grace, look!” Viv exclaimed.

Grace turned from the poster toward the metal stairs, which glided upward on an unseen belt, disappearing somewhere above the arched ceiling. Into the city of their dreams.

The advert was quickly forgotten as she and Viv rushed toward the escalator and tried to tamp down their delight as it effortlessly carried them up, up, up.

Viv’s shoulders squeezed upward with barely restrained happiness. “Didn’t I tell you this would be amazing?”

The enormity of it hit Grace all at once. After years of dreaming and planning, here they were in London.

Away from Grace’s bully of an uncle, out from under the thumb of Viv’s strict parents.

Despite all of Grace’s troubles, she and Viv swept out of the station like caged songbirds ready to finally spread their wings.

Buildings rose into the sky all around, making Grace block the sun with the palm of her hand to see their tops. Several nearby shops greeted them with brightly painted signs touting sandwiches, hairdressers and a chemist. On the streets, lorries rattled by and a double-decker bus rumbled in the opposite direction, its painted side as red and glossy as Viv’s nails.

It was all Grace could do to keep from grasping her friend’s arm and squealing for her to look. Viv was taking it in too, with wide, sparkling eyes. She appeared as much an awed country girl as Grace, albeit in a fashionable dress with her perfectly styled auburn curls.

Grace was not as chic. Though she’d worn her best dress for the occasion, its hem fell just past her knees, and the waist nipped in with a slim black belt that matched her low heels. While not as stylish as Viv’s black-and-white polka-dot dress, the pale blue cotton set off Grace’s gray eyes and complemented her fair hair. 

Viv had sewn it for her, of course. But then, Viv had always seen to both of them with an eye set toward grander aspirations. Throughout their friendship, they had spent hours sewing dresses and rolling their hair, years of reading Woman and Woman’s Life on fashion and etiquette and then making countless corrections to ensure they “lost the Drayton” from their speech.

Now, Viv looked like she could grace one of those magazine covers with her high cheekbones and long-lashed brown eyes.

They joined the flurry of people rushing to and fro, heaving the bulk of their suitcases from one hand to the other as Grace led the way toward Britton Street. Thankfully, the directions Mrs. Weatherford had sent in their last correspondence had been detailed and easy to follow.

What had been missing from the account, however, were all the signs of war.

More advertisements, some calling for men to do their part, with others prompting people to disregard Hitler and his threats and still book their summer holidays. Just across the street, a wall of sandbags framed a doorway with a black-and-white sign proclaiming it to be a Public Air Raid Shelter.

Excerpted from The Last Bookshop in London @ 2021 by Madeline Martin, used with permission by Hanover Square Press.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Hardcover | Paperback

About the Author

Madeline Martin is a USA TODAY bestselling author of historical romance novels filled with twists and turns, adventure, steamy romance, empowered heroines and the men who are strong enough to love them.

Connect:

Website: http://www.madelinemartin.com/ 

Facebook: https://facebook.com/madelinemartinauthor 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/madelinemmartin

Instagram: https://instagram.com/madelinemmartin 

Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/madelinemartin9 

Spotlight: The Marriage He Demands by Brenda Jackson

In the wilds of Wyoming ranch country, he needs something only she can give him. What price is too high to pay? Find out in this sizzling contemporary romance from New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson!

This ranching heir wants it all, including the woman who stands in his way!

Businessman Cash Outlaw has inherited almost all of his late mother’s Wyoming ranch…but still needs the fifty acres left to her former caretaker. As negotiations with beautiful, determined Brianna Banks become much more intimate, she reveals she’ll only sell him the property…if he gives her a baby! Cash’s counteroffer? That the mother of his child must become his wife!

From Harlequin Desire: Luxury, scandal, desire—welcome to the lives of the American elite.

Love triumphs in these uplifting romances, part of the Westmoreland Legacy: The Outlaws series.
Book 1: The Wife He Needs
Book 2: The Marriage He Demands
Book 3: What He Wants for Christmas

Heartfelt or thrilling, passionate or uplifting—our romances have it all. Visit TryHarlequin.com to sample FREE books from among 12 different series. It’s just a taste of the new books published each month—every story a journey guaranteed to leave you with That Harlequin Feeling.

Excerpt

Two days later, Cash flew his Cessna to the Laramie Regional Airport. He’d ordered a rental car to be there when he arrived, and it was. Shifting his cell phone to the other ear, he tossed his overnight bag in the back seat as he continued his conversation with his sister, Charm. She was calling from Australia with her condolences. 

Charm had tagged along with Garth’s best friend, Walker Rafferty, and his wife, Bailey, on a trip to visit Bailey’s sister, Gemma, who lived in Australia. 

“Thanks, Charm, but you know the real deal with this. It’s not like me and Ellen had a close relationship. Like I told Garth, I’m surprised she remembered I existed long enough to put me in a will.” 

Cash glanced at his watch before starting the car and switching the phone call to the vehicle’s speaker system. He would get a good night’s sleep, and be at the meeting with the attorney in the morning at eleven. Then he would leave, head back to the airport and fly home to Fairbanks. 

“I need to end the call, Charm, so I can concentrate on following the directions to Black Crow. I’ll talk to you later, kid.” 

As Cash headed for the interstate, he thought about the conversation he’d had with his father be- fore leaving. Bart was typical Bart. Even with six adult offspring, their old man still assumed it was his God- given right to stick his nose into their business when it didn’t concern him. 

Cash had put Bart in his place just that morning when he’d tried telling Cash to make sure he got everything his mother owned because it was rightly due him. Cash had made it clear to Bart that he didn’t want a single thing. He’d even seriously thought about not showing up for the reading of the will. As far as he was concerned, it was too late for Ellen to make up for the years she had been absent from his life. The only reason he had decided to come was for closure. 

The drive from Laramie to Black Crow took less than an hour. He couldn’t help wondering when his mother had moved to Wyoming. According to Bart, when she left Fairbanks thirty-four years ago, she had moved to New York. 

Cash saw the marker denoting the entrance into Black Crow’s city limits, and recalled all he’d learned from doing an internet search last night before going to bed. It had first been inhabited by the Black Crow Indian tribe, from which the town derived its name. The present population was less than two thousand people, and most fought to retain an old-town feel, which was evident by the architecture of the buildings. He’d read that if any of the inhabitants thought Black Crow wasn’t progressive enough for them, they were quickly invited to leave. But few people left and most had lived in the area for years. It was a close-knit place. 

He came to a traffic light and watched numerous people walking around, going into the various shops. As he sat there, tapping his hand on the steering wheel, his gaze homed in on a woman who was walking out of an ice-cream shop. She was strikingly beautiful. He couldn’t help noticing how she worked her mouth on her ice-cream cone, and he could just imagine her working her mouth on him the same way.

Cash drew in a deep breath as he shifted in the seat. She looked pretty damn good in her pullover sweater and a pair of jeans. If she was a sampling of what Black Crow had to offer, then maybe he needed to hang around for another day or two and not be so quick to leave town tomorrow.

He chuckled, thinking it would take more than a beautiful face and a gorgeous body to keep him in this town. Besides, he doubted that even if he stayed he’d be able to find her. He had more to do with his time than chase down a woman. Chances were, she was wearing some guy’s ring. There was no way a woman who looked like her was not spoken for. 

The driver behind him beeped his horn to let Cash know the traffic light had changed and it was time to move on. Not able to resist temptation, he glanced back for one final look at the woman and saw she was gone. 

Just as well. 

***

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About the Author

Brenda Jackson is a New York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles. Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family, writing and traveling. Email Brenda at authorbrendajackson@gmail.com or visit her on her website at brendajackson.net.

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