Spotlight: Honey Bun by Victoria Pinder

(Single Brothers, #1)
Publication date: April 27th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Arman wasn’t supposed to be the one.

I dumped him when we were 17 and married a man my parents picked for me.

#NeverListentomyDad 

Either way it’s the past, and now I have a daughter and finally left my ex.

On my way home to the beach, I didn’t expect to run into Arman, the nicest and sweetest man I’d ever met.

♥ He’s hotter than ever.

★ And a trillionaire.

And I am not looking for a relationship even from the one man’s kiss that still burned in me.

I don’t get what he still sees in me.

I’m a mess, but you’d never have expected what happened because I absolutely hadn’t.

Excerpt

Once we were alone, I clinked glasses with her as she grew quiet. “Now, it’s your turn. What happened?”

She sipped her wine and closed her eyes. The lines on her face grew deeper, and my heart sped up. I wished I had the power to erase whatever pain she had. 

Then she met my gaze. “Two days ago, I hit the road. My husband has a new girlfriend and a new victim of his anger. I want a divorce and to not have to run.” She brushed her cheek, and I peered closer. Under her makeup, there was a trace of a bruise. “And I have no place to live, no job. I used my last few pennies to get here, and I’m probably dreaming that all will somehow be okay.”

My heart ached for her. Her pain was palpable. I brushed against her hand. “I’d like to help.”

She finished her glass and shook her head. “No. I have my mother. I don’t need a handout.”

Pride often stopped people. I poured her the second glass and changed tactics. “Look, I need an assistant who can handle my never-ending schedule and help me coordinate events.”

The food came, and she waited till we were alone and then asked, “So you’re offering me a job?”

I would do anything to keep her smiling and happy. And I’d never had an assistant stick around for too long. I didn’t trust the ones I hired enough to train them fully, and the better ones all ended up quitting on me. Maddie was perfect. I’d always trusted her. 

I cut my food. “I’d need you to take my calls, arrange my schedule, run events—which is your specialty—and ensure that everything I need to do in a day is organized. I’m hard to please, my HR manager said, but I pay well.”

She stared at her plate like it was a lifeline. I didn’t want to cause her pain, so I waited. Then she asked, “You’re serious?”

I sipped my wine to clear my palate. “Fuck yeah. You’re not scared to talk to me, which already gives you an advantage over the last few assistants, who couldn’t handle the job.”

She cut her burger in half and grinned like she’d just found a present from Santa. “So, you’re a demanding boss.”

Maybe not entirely with you. She’d accepted my help, and this way, we would stay in touch. And when she was ready, she would tell me more. 

I tasted my food, which was perfectly cooked. “The job would come with a place to stay that’s close to me and in the right school zones.”

The second I said that, I felt my face heat. I hadn’t meant to push. The information had slipped out. We ate in silence. But my shoulders felt stronger, like I could handle whatever problems she threw at me.

As we finished, she sipped her wine and then said, “Maybe I should say no to the job. I don’t want to take your charity.”

Right. I said too much. The truth was, I was drawn to her. “It’s not charity. I’ll take a lot of your time, so the place is a perk of the job. The markets in other countries means I need you at strange hours. And you’ll be able to save some of your paycheck if you’re good at budgeting.”

She twisted her glass, then she sipped her wine and took a deep breath. “Let me think about it. I didn’t meet you tonight so you could give me a job. I haven’t decided what we’re going to do yet or even slept really. I just thought it would be nice to catch up.”

At work, I was the boss and solved all problems. I was sure I could figure out her problems, too, but I would need her permission and her trust. So I changed directions. Since we’d talked about my family, I asked about hers. Her father had died two years before, and she hadn’t come home. I’d looked for her when I was on the island the weekend of her father’s funeral. 

I sipped my wine. “Your dad wouldn’t want you working for me.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She sat straighter. “He died two years ago.”

My family was my support system. I put my glass down. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost mine.”

She wiped her face and said simply, “Yeah, well, your family is not a lot like mine.”

That was true, but she was all I’d wanted at one point. I whispered like we were sharing a secret no one else should hear, “No, but when we were kids, I wanted us to find a way to work out. I missed you that summer when I was eighteen and alone here.”

“With your family, you were never alone.” She held up her glass. I did the same, and we clinked them. “If I’d been here, maybe my life would have been very different, but let’s just be thankful we had this evening.”

“Fair enough. I’m with the only woman who ever dared to tell me no.”

Her eyes widened, but she finished her sip. “That can’t be true.”

Actually, it was. I handed my platinum card to the server, who then left. “It is. Money usually makes people agree to anything.”

She tilted her head like she agreed and finished her glass. “We all need it.”

The last thing she needed to do was lie to herself. I finished my own glass and shook my head. “No, we don’t. It’s a tool, but it’s not the reason to do anything.”

“Tool, right.” She threw her head back and laughed. “You sound like a rich boy. Thank you for meeting me tonight, but I should get home.”

And once again, she hadn’t given me permission to fix her life. The waitress returned with my card. I signed and then walked out with Maddie. “I’ll pop over tomorrow, and we’ll talk about the job again. You can read over the contract via email.”

She sucked in her lips, but then she texted me her email and headed toward the black truck that her mother usually drove to the garden. She turned and waved. “Good night.”

Most women I had drinks with offered to warm my bed, but that wasn’t Maddie. She was a lady. I had no idea what I needed to do to get her to trust me, but I had to figure out how to prove myself to her. For some reason, she made the world nicer to live in when I was around her. And I knew it was wrong, as she was married, but I wanted to find out if she still tasted like she had when I was a boy.

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About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author Victoria Pinder moved cross country and now lives in Denver though her books always take her right back to Miami, where she lived for years. She's currently expecting another baby and raising the first one, both of whom inspire her writing. Somewhere in between using drama to make her humdrum days seem more interesting and falling in love with happily-ever-afters to offer hope to her readers, she takes to her fictional world where all her characters in Miami might mention or meet each other in one huge world and discovers what her bold heroine and her brainy, sexy hero might need to really find true love. You can follow her on twitter @VictoriaPinder

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Spotlight: Confessions from the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates

The Ashwood women don’t have much in common...except their ability to keep secrets.

When Lark Ashwood’s beloved grandmother dies, she and her sisters discover an unfinished quilt. Finishing it could be the reason Lark’s been looking for to stop running from the past, but is she ever going to be brave enough to share her biggest secret with the people she ought to be closest to?

Hannah can’t believe she’s back in Bear Creek, the tiny town she sacrificed everything to escape from. The plan? Help her sisters renovate her grandmother’s house and leave as fast as humanly possible. Until she comes face-to-face with a man from her past. But getting close to him again might mean confessing what really drove her away...

Stay-at-home mom Avery has built a perfect life, but at a cost. She’ll need all her family around her, and all her strength, to decide if the price of perfection is one she can afford to keep paying.

This summer, the Ashwood women must lean on each other like never before, if they are to stitch their family back together, one truth at a time...

Excerpt

1

March 4th, 1944

The dress is perfect. Candlelight satin and antique lace. I can’t wait for you to see it. I can’t wait to walk down the aisle toward you. If only we could set a date. If only we had some idea of when the war will be over.

Love, Dot

Present day—Lark

Unfinished.

The word whispered through the room like a ghost. Over the faded, floral wallpaper, down to the scarred wooden floor. And to the precariously stacked boxes and bins of fabrics, yarn skeins, canvases and other artistic miscellany.

Lark Ashwood had to wonder if her grandmother had left them this way on purpose. Unfinished business here on earth, in the form of quilts, sweaters and paintings, to keep her spirit hanging around after she was gone.

It would be like her. Adeline Dowell did everything with just a little extra.

From her glossy red hair—which stayed that color till the day she died—to her matching cherry glasses and lipstick. She always had an armful of bangles, a beer in her hand and an ashtray full of cigarettes. She never smelled like smoke. She smelled like spearmint gum, Aqua Net and Avon perfume.

She had taught Lark that it was okay to be a little bit of extra.

A smile curved Lark’s lips as she looked around the attic space again. “Oh, Gram…this is really a mess.”

She had the sense that was intentional too. In death, as in life, her grandmother wouldn’t simply fade away.

Neat attics, well-ordered affairs and pre-death estate sales designed to decrease the clutter a family would have to go through later were for other women. Quieter women who didn’t want to be a bother.

Adeline Dowell lived to be a bother. To expand to fill a space, not shrinking down to accommodate anyone.

Lark might not consistently achieve the level of excess Gram had, but she considered it a goal.

“Lark? Are you up there?”

She heard her mom’s voice carrying up the staircase. “Yes!” She shouted back down. “I’m…trying to make sense of this.”

She heard footsteps behind her and saw her mom standing there, gray hair neat, arms folded in. “You don’t have to. We can get someone to come in and sort it out.” 

“And what? Take it all to a thrift store?” Lark asked.

Her mom’s expression shifted slightly, just enough to convey about six emotions with no wasted effort. Emotional economy was Mary Ashwood’s forte. As contained and practical as Addie had been excessive. “Honey, I think most of this would be bound for the dump.”

“Mom, this is great stuff.”

“I don’t have room in my house for sentiment.”

“It’s not about sentiment. It’s usable stuff.”

“I’m not artsy, you know that. I don’t really…get all this.” The unspoken words in the air settled over Lark like a cloud.

Mary wasn’t artsy because her mother hadn’t been around to teach her to sew. To knit. To paint. To quilt.

Addie had taught her granddaughters. Not her own daughter.

She’d breezed on back into town in a candy apple Corvette when Lark’s oldest sister, Avery, was born, after spending Mary’s entire childhood off on some adventure or another, while Lark’s grandfather had done the raising of the kids.

Grandkids had settled her. And Mary had never withheld her children from Adeline. Whatever Mary thought about her mom was difficult to say. But then, Lark could never really read her mom’s emotions. When she’d been a kid, she hadn’t noticed that. Lark had gone around feeling whatever she did and assuming everyone was tracking right along with her because she’d been an innately self focused kid. Or maybe that was just kids.

Either way, back then badgering her mom into tea parties and talking her ear off without noticing Mary didn’t do much of her own talking had been easy.

It was only when she’d had big things to share with her mom that she’d realized…she couldn’t.

“It’s easy, Mom,” Lark said. “I’ll teach you. No one is asking you to make a living with art, art can be about enjoying the process.”

“I don’t enjoy doing things I’m bad at.”

“Well I don’t want Gram’s stuff going to a thrift store, okay?”

Another shift in Mary’s expression. A single crease on one side of her mouth conveying irritation, reluctance and exhaustion. But when she spoke she was measured. “If that’s what you want. This is as much yours as mine.”

It was a four-way split. The Dowell House and all its contents, and The Miner’s House, formerly her grandmother’s candy shop, to Mary Ashwood, and her three daughters. They’d discovered that at the will reading two months earlier.

It hadn’t caused any issues in the family. They just weren’t like that.

Lark’s uncle Bill had just shaken his head. “She feels guilty.”

And that had been the end of any discussion, before any had really started. They were all like their father that way. Quiet. Reserved. Opinionated and expert at conveying it without saying much.

Big loud shouting matches didn’t have a place in the Dowell family.

But Addie had been there for her boys. They were quite a bit older than Lark’s mother. She’d left when the oldest had been eighteen. The youngest boy sixteen.

Mary had been four.

Lark knew her mom felt more at home in the middle of a group of men than she did with women. She’d been raised in a house of men. With burned dinners and repressed emotions.

Lark had always felt like her mother had never really known what to make of the overwhelmingly female household she’d ended up with.

“It’s what I want. When is Hannah getting in tonight?” 

Hannah, the middle child, had moved to Boston right after college, getting a position in the Boston Symphony Orchestra. She had the summer off of concerts and had decided to come to Bear Creek to finalize the plans for their inherited properties before going back home.

Once Hannah had found out when she could get time away from the symphony, Lark had set her own plans for moving into motion. She wanted to be here the whole time Hannah was here, since for Hannah, this wouldn’t be permanent.

But Lark wasn’t going back home. If her family agreed to her plan, she was staying here.

Which was not something she’d ever imagined she’d do.

Lark had gone to college across the country, in New York, at eighteen and had spent years living everywhere but here. Finding new versions of herself in new towns, new cities, whenever the urge took her.

Unfinished.

“Sometime around five-ish? She said she’d get a car out here from the airport. I reminded her that isn’t the easiest thing to do in this part of the world. She said something about it being in apps now. I didn’t laugh at her.”

Lark laughed, though. “She can rent a car.”

Lark hadn’t lived in Bear Creek since she was eighteen, but she hadn’t been under the impression there was a surplus of ride services around the small, rural community. If you were flying to get to Bear Creek, you had to fly into Medford, which was about eighteen miles from the smaller town. Even if you could find a car, she doubted the driver would want to haul anyone out of town.

But her sister wouldn’t be told anything. Hannah made her own way, something Lark could relate to. But while she imagined herself drifting along like a tumbleweed, she imagined Hannah slicing through the water like a shark. With intent, purpose, and no small amount of sharpness.

“Maybe I should arrange something.”

“Mom. She’s a professional symphony musician who’s been living on her own for fourteen years. I’m pretty sure she can cope.”

“Isn’t the point of coming home not having to cope for a while? Shouldn’t your mom handle things?” Mary was a doer. She had never been the one to sit and chat. She’d loved for Lark to come out to the garden with her and work alongside her in the flower beds, or bake together. “You’re not in New Mexico anymore. I can make you cookies without worrying they’ll get eaten by rats in the mail.”

Lark snorted. “I don’t think there are rats in the mail.”

“It doesn’t have to be real for me to worry about it.”

And there was something Lark had inherited directly from her mother. “That’s true.”

That and her love of chocolate chip cookies, which her mom made the very best. She could remember long afternoons at home with her mom when she’d been little, and her sisters had been in school. They’d made cookies and had iced tea, just the two of them.

Cooking had been a self-taught skill her mother had always been proud of. Her recipes were hers. And after growing up eating “chicken with blood” and beanie weenies cooked by her dad, she’d been pretty determined her kids would eat better than that.

Something Lark had been grateful for.

And Mom hadn’t minded if she’d turned the music up loud and danced in some “dress up clothes”—an oversized prom dress from the ’80s and a pair of high heels that were far too big, purchased from a thrift store. Which Hannah and Avery both declared “annoying” when they were home. 

Her mom hadn’t understood her, Lark knew that. But Lark had felt close to her back then in spite of it.

The sound of the door opening and closing came from downstairs. “Homework is done, dinner is in the Crock-Pot. I think even David can manage that.”

The sound of her oldest sister Avery’s voice was clear, even from a distance. Lark owed that to Avery’s years of motherhood, coupled with the fact that she—by choice—fulfilled the role of parent liaison at her kids’ exclusive private school, and often wrangled children in large groups. Again, by choice.

Lark looked around the room one last time and walked over to the stack of crafts. There was an old journal on top of several boxes that look like they might be overflowing with fabric, along with some old Christmas tree ornaments, and a sewing kit. She grabbed hold of them all before walking to the stairs, turning the ornaments over and letting the silver stars catch the light that filtered in through the stained glass window.

Her mother was already ahead of her, halfway down the stairs by the time Lark got to the top of them. She hadn’t seen Avery yet since she’d arrived. She loved her older sister. She loved her niece and nephew. She liked her brother-in-law, who did his best not to be dismissive of the fact that she made a living drawing pictures. Okay, he kind of annoyed her. But still, he was fine. Just… A doctor. A surgeon, in fact, and bearing all of the arrogance that stereotypically implied.

One of the saddest things about living away for as long as she had was that she’d missed her niece’s and nephew’s childhoods. She saw them at least once a year, but it never felt like enough. And now they were teenagers, and a lot less cute.

And then there was Avery, who had always been somewhat untouchable. Four years older than Lark, Avery was a classic oldest child. A people pleasing perfectionist. She was organized and she was always neat and orderly.  And even though the gap between thirty-four and thirty-eight was a lot narrower than twelve and sixteen, sometimes Lark still felt like the gawky adolescent to Avery’s sweet sixteen.

But maybe if they shared in a little bit of each other’s day-to-day it would close some of that gap she felt between them.

Excerpted from Confessions From the Quilting Circle by Maisey Yates, Copyright © 2021 by Maisey Yates. Published by HQN Books.

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About the Author

New York Times Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit.

Connect:

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Twitter: @maiseyyates

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Goodreads

Spotlight: An Officer and a Fortune by Nina Crespo

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Series: The Fortunes of Texas: The Hotel Fortune

About An Officer and a Fortune:

His homecoming was temporary. Until he met the woman who changed everything.

Captain Collin Waldon is on leave from the military, tending to his ailing father in his final days. Knowing his stay in Rambling Rose will be short, Collin is not looking for romantic entanglements—especially not with Nicole Fortune, the beautiful, free-spirited executive chef of Roja Restaurant in the struggling Hotel Fortune. Yet these two unlikely lovers seem perfect for each other, until Collin’s reassignment threatens their newfound bliss…

From Harlequin Special Edition: Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

Excerpt

In An Officer and a Fortune, Nicole is a chef and Collin is a soldier who shares her passion for cooking. They have a slight obsession with Lemon Rosemary Chicken. Has reading a scene in a book where food is involved ever made you hungry?

***

A knock on the doorjamb drew Nicole’s attention.

Lesly stood in the doorway. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s a Collin Waldon in the dining room. He wants to order something that’s not on the menu—lemon rosemary chicken and pasta?” Lesly gave her quizzical look. “He said you’d understand.”

He showed up. Barely suppressed excitement waved through Nicole. She hit Send on the website form. “I do. I’ll take care of it.” Cooking for Collin and talking to him again was exactly what she needed to get her mind off the competition.

In the kitchen, she gathered the ingredients for the dish and got to work. As she prepared the recipe, mindfulness plus a dash of perfectionism blended with her skill. Peacefulness settled inside her as she moved through the tasks.

Cooking had always been her bliss. The only thing that topped it was witnessing the satisfaction of someone enjoying the first bite of something she’d made. Would her meal rate a smile of satisfaction from Collin when he tasted it?

She worked a little faster, eager to find out…

In case you’re interested, here’s a simple rosemary chicken recipe:

https://littlespicejar.com/easy-lemon-rosemary-chicken/

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About the Author

Nina Crespo lives in Florida where she indulges in her favorite passions — the beach, a good glass of wine, date night with her own real-life hero and dancing.

Her lifelong addiction to romance began in her teens while on a “borrowing spree” in her older sister’s bedroom where she discovered her first romance novel.

Let Nina’s sensual contemporary stories and steamy paranormal tales feed your own addiction for love, romance, and happily ever after.

Stay connected with Nina on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest or through her newsletter.

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Spotlight: OLIVIER by Brenda Rothert

Daphne

I knew who I was before Olivier Durand came along. Despite growing up among the privileged elite, I never cared about corporate ladders or dream weddings. I proudly wear the label of social justice warrior. Until a car accident changes everything overnight. A video goes viral: Chicago’s Hottest Bachelor, billionaire Olivier Durand pulling me from my burning car. When he sets his sights on me, the whole world is watching. He can chase after me all he wants, but my answer will be the same: I loathe the ultra-wealthy. Even when they’re handsome, persuasive and...I have to admit, charming. It’s a hell no from me, though. Until suddenly, I’m not sure I’m the woman I thought I was.

Olivier

Now I know how the players on the NHL team I own must feel. Relentlessly hounded. Once the video of me pulling a woman from her burning car goes viral, privacy becomes a thing of the past. For whatever reason, Twitter has collectively decided this woman and I should become a romantic thing. A hashtag combining my name with hers is trending daily. Absolute nonsense. But then I meet her, and realize Twitter got it right. Daphne Barrington is beautiful, funny, brilliant and sweet. Now I just have to convince her to date me. Easier said than done. She’s maddeningly stubborn, and my deep desire to be with her soon has me writing massive checks. Not for jewelry or cars, but to charities. Winning Daphne’s heart is going to cost me, and I’m not sure even I have enough money to do it.

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About the Author

Brenda Rothert is an Illinois native who was a print journalist for nine years. She made the jump from fact to fiction in 2013 and never looked back. From new adult to steamy contemporary romance, Brenda creates fresh characters in every story she tells. She’s a lover of Diet Coke, chocolate, lazy weekends and happily ever afters.

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Spotlight: It Takes a Thief by Sloane Steele

When catching a thief requires becoming one.

Jared Towers has skills. One of them is being able to talk his way out of—or into—anything.

Audrey Abbott has skills, too. Need something hacked and only the best will do? She’s your girl.

He’s charming.

She’s reclusive.

They have absolutely nothing in common—except for a driving desire to take care of those who need it the most.

For Jared, that means assembling a team of thieves to steal back what rightfully belongs to the victims of a crime perpetrated by his own father. For Audrey, it means doing whatever she can to make sure her grandma never has to worry again.

And now they have something else in common: the art heist of the century.

It was supposed to be all business. Get in and get out, then move on to the next target. But when Jared finds himself falling for Audrey, artwork isn’t the only thing at risk of being stolen...

Counterfeit Capers

Book 1: It Takes a Thief

Book 2: Between Two Thieves

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About the Author

Sloane Steele is the pen name for Shannyn Schroeder. Shannyn is a part-time English teacher, part-time curriculum editor, and full-time mom, even though her kids are pretty self-sufficient teens. In her down time, she bakes cookies, reads romance, and watches far too much TV. For more information about Sloane’s and Shanyn’s books, visit her main website: https://ShannynSchroeder.com 

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Spotlight: Up for Seconds by Melissa Chambers

(Destiny Dunes, #2)
Publication date: April 27th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He won’t get in her head again…

Tori:

Jack Massey broke my heart. He was jealous and possessive. We were all wrong together—too engrossed, too greedy for one another…like we were each other’s fix.

We made no sense. He’s a stuffy, number-cruncher from a wealthy family, and I’m a hot mess from a trailer park. We’d never work long-term.

He says he wants me back. He needs to let the past stay behind us. I’ve worked too hard this year to get over him. I’ve thrown myself into my work with the kids at the resort. I’ve nurtured friendships with my amazing co-workers. I even tried another relationship. Though Jack’s never left my head or my heart.

Jack:

I screwed up. I’ve paid the price this past year. I quit drinking and became obsessed with my job and working out. I’ve not so much as looked at another woman. Tori’s all I’ve been able to focus on, even after a year

I want her back. It’s not going to be easy. We come from different worlds, and she makes sure I know it at every turn.

I’ve never failed at anything in my life except for my relationship with her, and I don’t intend to lose at that again.

Welcome to Destiny Dunes, where the only thing hotter than the Florida sun is the romance between this resort's employees. Each book in this steamy series focuses on your favorite romance tropes. Once you enter the gates of Destiny Dunes, you'll never want to leave!

Excerpt

He stands up and holds his hand out to me. “Well, I’m not ready to let this go. Come into the water with me.” 

I wipe the sand off my hands and then take his hand. He pulls me up, and I follow him into the surf.

“Wow, look at that sunset,” he says.

I’m embarrassed that I hadn’t even noticed. I’ve been too caught up in him. “That’s a beautiful one.”

“Do you know what they say about first kisses under a sunset like that?” he asks.

My chest sears with anticipation. “What do they say?”

“That they’re pretty damn amazing.”

I wish I could stop my stupid grin, but there’s no way. “It’s not our first kiss.”

He takes my hand. “It is for this go-around.”

“I think we skipped past kisses last weekend.”

“We just did things a little out of order. We still get to have our second first kiss.” 

“Lucky us.”

He looks down at my hand and takes it as the water washes over our calves. The longer he hesitates to kiss me, the more buildup rolls through my body like a big rig. He takes my other hand as well, still not looking into my eyes. I can’t tell if he’s nervous or trying to make me collapse with want.

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About the Author

Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Destiny Dunes series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).

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