Spotlight: Never Look Back by A.L. Jackson

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Never Look Back

An Enemies-to-Lovers, Close-Proximity, Second-Chance Romance from A.L. Jackson

Coming August 29th

From NYT and USA Today bestselling author A.L. Jackson comes an enemies-to-lovers, close-proximity, second-chance romance…

Logan Lawson won me in a bet.

The second I saw him sitting at the illegal card table, I knew I was in trouble.

Years ago, he sealed my fate and condemned me to a life I didn’t want to lead.

Yet he’s filled with untamed fury and thirsting for vengeance against the husband I hate.

Aster Costa is everything I never should have wanted.

The second she showed with her pompous, prick of a husband, I should have gotten up and walked.

But there’s no looking away from the woman who wrecked me.

Worse, I can’t stop myself from plotting to get her back.

I want nothing more than to be free of my husband.

I’m afraid Logan Lawson is the only one who can make that happen.

He might hate me for our past, but now it’s me on my knees begging for help.

Finding each other in the middle of it wasn’t supposed to be part of the bargain.

But once Logan touches me, I’m gone.

A torch is rekindled. A fire is lit.

Aster Costa has always been mine.

And this time, no matter the cost, I won’t give her back…

Excerpt

Tension bound the room, and few words had been said, everyone’s attention rapt on the duel going down. 

Jarek tried to keep his expression neutral, the pompous prick with his slicked back black hair and his careless confidence that had been given to him through his name rather than earned. 

Like he was confident I would let him reach out and take what was mine. 

Not ever again.

Even with the pungent arrogance, I saw the tick of his jaw, the flinch of his eyes, the sheen of sweat that hinted at the edges of his brow and glimmered beneath the dull lights from the chandelier that hung from above. 

He glanced at his dwindling chips. 

“Your father-in-law would be proud. If only he could see you now.” I couldn’t help but taunt it as I rocked back in my chair. I did my best to ignore the presence that hovered over him from behind. 

A presence that fanned out and teased me like a sinful, decadent dream. A dream that had once been so beautiful it’d coerced me into believing there just might be something better in this life than depravity and greed. 

I glanced up in time to catch the worry that riddled those fire-agate eyes. The golden green with flecks of red that were begging for something she didn’t deserve to be given.

Mercy. 

I tore my attention from the lure of hers and watched as redness clawed at Jarek’s throat before he started to push in the chips to meet the bet. 

Aster gripped him by the shoulder. “Jarek, don’t do this.” 

I had to wonder exactly what he had riding on the line. Why he was there. Why I could feel the chinks in his armor coming apart.

Flinging off her hand, he cut her a hard glare. 

“Don’t,” he warned. 

The word was coated with his humiliation. With desperation. 

Ah. 

There was the chink.

Weakness wept through the powerful persona.

Reluctantly, Aster withdrew her hand, and her delicate throat trembled as she swallowed. She lifted that stoic chin that I’d caressed more times than I could count. 

Okay, fine.

That was a goddamn lie because I remembered every fucking touch. Every glance. Every broken promise she had made. 

Jarek met my stare as he pushed nearly the rest of his chips into the pot, raising me by a thousand.

I raised him another ten. 

How far are you going to go, asshole? Whatever you have, it’s mine.

A soft sound of pain wheezed from Aster’s chest. A heave of distressed air. 

My gaze followed to where the black dress she wore dipped low between her tits. My heart fisted when I saw what she wore around her neck. It was a star-shaped necklace, dangling down to kiss her cleavage.

I nearly cracked. Lost the control I was holding onto.

It had to be a joke. 

A taunt. 

A fucking cruel, sick twisted one, the girl coming down here and parading it like a slap to my face.

It made my teeth clench and the fury I was barely constraining flashfire through my veins.

I tore my attention from her when Jarek spat, “Fuck,” under his breath.

He still clutched his cards, refusing to give up the fight. 

Haille laughed, the sadistic fucker enjoying this far too much. He looked at Jarek. How the hell he knew him, I didn’t have a clue, but I didn’t believe in a coincidence quite this big. He pulled his cigar from his mouth and jabbed it Jarek’s direction. “It seems you’re in a small predicament, Mr. Urso. Are you already going to walk? And here I thought you were going to bring something interesting to the table.” 

Jarek all but growled, and Aster’s gaze darted between the three of us. Nerves flew from her soft, caramel flesh. That face carved of perfect lines and smooth skin tightened in dread.

He’d brought something interesting to the table, all right. 

“Just cut your losses, Jarek.” She begged it quietly, but I heard the strength behind it. 

Jarek roughed his hand down his pompous face, and he turned to look at the necklace around Aster’s neck as if it could be a solution to his issues. 

Aster gasped, and her hand came up to protect it. Tears sprang to her eyes. She took a small step back. “No,” she wheezed, like it would physically pain her to remove it. 

I wanted to jump to my feet. 

Take hold of her and demand answers.

Demand to know why. 

Why had she done it if she could stand there and look like there was a piece of her that was broken. 

Anger and confusion had me in a stranglehold.

Old grief I’d buried deep that was clawing to the surface. 

“Give it to me,” Jarek grated. 

“No.” My voice cut through the dense air. 

A roll of thunder. 

The tolling of a challenge. 

Aster froze. Her stare landed on me. 

It was pain. 

A plea. 

Desperation. 

It only made the sickness thrum harder. 

I looked to Jarek.

“The girl.” 

The stake came out without thought to repercussions. 

Without rationale. 

No sense. 

Just revenge. 

I wanted what never should have been his.

A gasp rocked from her, and she stumbled back farther. 

Jarek’s eyes sharpened to blades, and there was no question he wanted to reach over the table and choke the life from me. 

My fingers itched. 

I hoped he tried. 

I gave nothing. No smile. No sneer. Just the quiet hatred that emanated from within. The fact I intended to take everything from him.

I’d known one day I would. I just hadn’t anticipated the opportunity would present itself so soon.

He blinked then jutted his chin at the dealer for the exotic chip.

The one that signified he would hazard my proposition.

It wasn’t rare. A bid made for a beach home. A family heirloom. Something that couldn’t be replaced. Here, fortunes were won and lost. 

“What are you doing? I am not for sale.” Aster’s voice was aghast. Horrified and filled with disgust.

“He’s bluffing, Aster.” Jarek tossed in the chip.

It was the first time I let myself fully look at her. To sit back and take her in like she was mine to take. Sickened terror ridged her gorgeous face because I was pretty sure she knew this wasn’t close to a bluff. 

I couldn’t do anything but crack a grin. “It seems you are tonight.” 

Then I laid down my cards. 

A straight flush.

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About the Author

A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.

Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, BLEEDING STARS, FIGHT FOR ME, CONFESSIONS OF THE HEART, FALLING STARS, and REDEMPTION HILLS novels. Watch out for her upcoming stand-alone, NEVER LOOK BACK, releasing August 29th!

If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.

Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson - Sign up to receive her newsletter https://geni.us/ALJacksonBookClubB  or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

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Spotlight: The Devil’s Den by Lilian Harris

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(Cavaleri Brothers, #4)
Publication date: August 13th 2022
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Suspense

He was the boy held captive in the basement. I was the girl who knew.

But I never told a soul. I had innocent lives to protect. And this was the only way.

He was my friend first. My lover second. We wanted to be free, to make a life together. But that was a dream we knew would never come true.

Prisoners of my ruthless father, we could not escape the horror we were forced to endure-until I drew a weapon on the only boy who ever loved me.

And as they drag me away, screaming his name, I hope he’s still breathing.

Because our story, it’s not over yet.

Author note: This story contains dark themes and scenes depicting SA.

Excerpt

⁠“What are you thinking about?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand, my head lying over his shoulder.

“That I have ugly hair.”

“What?” He jerks his head back in an instant. “Who gave you that idea?” The way he stares, it’s not with anger at me, but for what I just said.

I shrug, avoiding his gaze by staring at my bare feet. After a few seconds, he snakes a hand under his pillow and retrieves something. In his palm is the notepad I once gave him.

But as I look at it, as he turns to open a page, I let out a small gasp, my stomach flipping all over again.

I can’t stop staring.

My breathing goes ragged.

I’m there on the page, in a long wispy dress, my hair caught in the wind, skipping among flowers, butterflies floating around me, like he knew that’s how he makes me feel. But that’s silly, of course, there’d be butterflies in a meadow. That’s what this is. He continues to turn, page after page, and I find more of me on every single one.

He’s been drawing me this whole time? Why?

He gazes straight at me, the crooked smile reaching the far corner of his mouth. “Your hair reminds me of the sun, and the sun is beautiful.”

My heart flutters in my chest, tears growing within my eyes. And his face, the one that barely ever smiles anymore, grins so wide for me now. “Did you just call me beautiful?” I whisper with a thread of shock, because there’s no way he said that.

He raises a shoulder with a smirk. “I may have.”

My mouth spreads into a smile of my own, those butterflies in my stomach flying higher. And my head, it falls right over his shoulder, his arm draping around my back. “I think you’re kinda beautiful too.”

With a deep sigh, his head slants over mine and we stay that way until it’s time for me to go, wishing I didn’t have to.

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About the Author

For Lilian, a love of writing began with a love of books. From Goosebumps to romance novels with sexy men on the cover, she loved them all. It’s no surprise that at the age of eight she started writing poetry and lyrics, and hasn’t stopped writing since.

She was born in Azerbaijan, and currently resides in Long Island, N.Y. with her husband, three kids, and a dog named Gatorade. Even though she has a law degree, she isn’t practicing. When she isn’t writing or reading, Lilian is baking or cooking up a storm. And once the kids are in bed, there’s usually a glass of red in her hand. Can’t just survive on coffee alone!

Connect:

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Spotlight: Kiss and Tell A Limited Edition New Adult College Romance Collection

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What happens when the brainy student is teamed up with the class rebel who has a huge chip on his shoulder? It's not rocket science. It's just chemistry.

This limited edition collection takes readers on a whirlwind through new adult college romances where the good girl is stuck with the bad boy and she's not happy about it, until their chemistry together makes her question everything she thought she knew about him.

This collection will include the following stories by the authors listed below:

Kings of Study Hall - Mandy Melanson, USA Today Bestselling Author

The Science Club - C.A. King, USA Today Bestselling Author

Study Games - USA Today Bestselling Author, Sofia Aves and Dove Priest

Guarded - Lizzi Stone

What I Love about You - Kari Shuey

Making the Grade: a Woodbridge Park story - Kira Cunningham

Heartbreaker - Amy Stephens

Playing for Her - Sienna Grant

A Play called Pretend - USA Today Bestselling Author, Ainsley Jaymes

Truth or Dare - Corinne M Knight

Imperfect Chemistry - Lynn Stevens

The Good Girl Con - USA Today Bestselling Author, Sunny Abernathy

Ropin' Her In - TB Mann

Right Now - USA Today Bestselling Author, Rachel A. Smith

TBD - USA Today Bestselling Author, Krista Ames

Love on Campus Radio - Danielle Jacks

Tempting - Zepphora

Bad Chemistry - USA Today Bestselling Author, Maci Dillon

TBD - Lissa Lynn Thomas

Campus Legend - Jennifer Sucevic

Collision Course - LJC Fynn & Hope Sherrill, International Bestselling Authors

TBD - Leanne Davis

Rescuing Griffin - Kaye Kennedy

TBD - Lexi Noir

Loft Mechanics - Rhylie Matthews and Eliza Matthews

How to Catch the Bad Guy - USA Today Bestselling Author, Helena Novak

In Session - Kay Blake, Award Winning Author

Reckless Legend - Zoey Drake

TBD - Lorelei Reese

Clueless in Calabases - Jade Bay

Bully Crush - Michele Mannon

Blinded Me with Science - Tara September, multi-award-winning author

TBD - A.L. Morrow

TBD - A.D. Brazeau

TBD - Amanda Shelley

TBD - Karen Stivali

TBD - CL Collier

TBD - M Jameson

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Featuring:

The Science Club by C.A. King 

The Science Club is out to prove there is one universal equation for love.

It started as a joke. It continued as a tradition. Somewhere along the line, invites became an honour and joining an elite privilege. Now, the all-female member roster is shaking up the status quo.

Ten years after inception, they have a formula. All that’s left is to test their theory and the resident bad-boy just became their lab rat.

About the Author 

I was diagnosed with clinical depression after the loss of my mother, father and husband within three years of each other; all to cancer. 24/7 in-home care, coupled with the loss I felt, left its mark on my psyche.

Depression takes up a lot of my life. Reading and writing are the only things I have found that help (in connection with regular medication), even if only for a short time. To escape to a different world can make a big difference in my mood in real time.

To put things in perspective, when I was at my lowest point, I couldn't open mail, talk on the phone, or even drive to the store. Walls of sadness surrounded me. As they closed in, tears would fall. There didn't need to be a reason or trigger.

People ask me why I started writing. My answer is simple: I wanted to create a world into which other people with similar problems could escape. I wanted to share the one place that had helped me for many years.

I have always said that as long as one person finds a little bit of happiness out of my books, I am, in my opinion, an accomplished author. The same is true for every writer out there. Please don't ever let anyone tell you different.

I read books as well as write them and have visited the worlds many different authors have created. Those worlds not only make me feel better, but give me the strength to face real life again. I want to thank everyone who writes—I want them to know they are making a difference.

Fast forward to today...

C.A. King, USA Today Bestselling Author has over 60 books available across multiple fantasy sub-genres.

Awards include:

Hamilton Spectator Readers' Choice Award in the Best Local Author category 2017 & 2018 & 2019

Brant News Readers' Choice Award: Best Local Author 2017 

Readers' Favorite International Book Awards: Best Novella/Short Story 2017 Silver medal

2017 SIBA Awards - Best Novella

2017 SIBA Awards - Best New Adult

2018 Readers' Favorite International Book Awards: Gold Medal in the Fiction - Supernatural genre

2018 Readers' Favorite International Book Awards: Bronze Medal in the Fiction - New Adult genre

2019 Readers' Favorite Gold Medal Winner in the Fiction - Supernatural genre

2019 Readers' Favorite Gold Medal Winner in the Young Adult - Fantasy - Urban genre

City of Brantford Featured Artist February 2020

Burlington Post Readers' Choice Award in the Best Local Author Category 2020

Toronto Star Readers' Choice Award in the Best Local Author Category 2020

Cambridge Times Readers' Choice Award in the Best Local Author Category 2020

Burlington Post Readers' Choice Award in the Best Local Author Category 2021

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Spotlight: Casino Heat by Sharon C. Cooper

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Genre: Romantic Suspense 

When it comes to true love, never say never…

Trust doesn’t come easy for NBA superstar Hunter Graham, especially after his fiancée married his stepbrother. Vowing to be single for the rest of his life, women and gambling have become his favorite pastimes. But when Hunter learns of his stepbrother’s death, he’s forced to deal with the woman who crushed his soul. He wants nothing to do with her, but his heart won’t cooperate.

Viviana Connelly thought being blackmailed into marriage was the worst thing she could ever experience. Wrong. Coming face-to-face with the only man she’s ever loved after betraying him is like a punishment worse than death. Hunter hates her. She might’ve made peace without him in her life, but when they are unexpectedly thrown together, their passion reignites, and the flame between them burns hotter than ever.

Hunter refuses to let vicious accusations from the media or the NBA’s claim of him having a gambling problem keep him from a second chance with the woman he loves. However, his gambling hobby might be the death of him…and Viviana, too.

Will they ever get their happy ending—or will the evil around them suffocate their love? 

Excerpt:

“We’ll get started. I’ll read this portion of the will before I give you the letters that Thomas left for each of you.”

Hunter barely listened as the attorney read a statement that apparently his brother had written about being sorry for what he’d put Hunter and Viviana through. He claimed that he had his reasons for what he’d done to each of them, even if they were self-serving.

Hunter grunted in disgust, and the longer he sat there listening to his brother’s words, the more he wanted to get up and walk out. But what kept him rooted in place was curiosity. His stepbrother hated him; at least that’s what Hunter had assumed. 

Why else would Thomas lure Viviana away from him and then marry her?

“To my only brother and my wife,” Walter was saying when Hunter tuned back in, “I leave to you TGR Grand Hotel and Casino to be shared equally, fifty-fifty. To my wife…”

Hunter sat stunned as the attorney continued. 

What. The. Hell. Thomas left me TGR Grand? 

Had he really heard that right? The casino and hotel were easily valued in the billions. There had to be a catch. No way would Thomas treat him like shit from the time Hunter was ten years old until the day he stole his fiancée.

“Wait?” Hunter interrupted. “Back up. Did I hear you correctly? Thomas left his casino, the thing he cherished more than anything, to me? I mean, to both of us?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Graham. He also left letters for both of you.” Walter handed each of them a white envelope. “We’ve come to the moment to where he wanted you both to read your letters.”

Hunter knew Thomas. He might not have seen him in seven years, but he knew the low-down dirty dog. There was no way the man left him a casino without there being a huge catch. He probably set the whole thing to blow the moment Hunter stepped inside the place.

Hunter braced himself as he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. He was surprised to see it actually in his brother’s handwriting. 

What’s up, my brother?

If you’re reading this, that means I’m on my way to heaven. Ha ha ha. That also means that you know that I left you half of the casino. You’re probably wondering—what’s the catch? There isn’t one. Seriously. Well, not really. 

I should be thanking you. It’s because of you, indirectly, that I worked my ass off to become a successful billionaire. I wanted to prove to my father that I was just as good as you. I might not have had your athleticism, but I had a good business mind that has served me well. 

I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching this past year, and believe it or not, for the most part, I’m sorry for what I did to you and Viviana. I’ll admit that I’ve always been angry and a little jealous of you. My father and I never had a super-strong bond before he died, but before you came along, we at least hung out. But then you showed up with basketball skills that could rival someone twice your age. I ain’t mad at you for that, but I hate you for taking my father from me. 

You were everything I wasn’t in his eyes—tall, good-looking, and a future NBA star. Your love of sports and athletic abilities bonded the two of you and destroyed anything he and I had. Which was why I took something—or should I say someone—you loved. She was way out of your league, anyway.

Now that I’m gone, you can have Viviana back. She served her purpose. Good luck with that, though. Assuming you’ll ever be interested in her again, she probably won’t give you the time of day. Not because I’m the better brother, though I am, but because your stupid ass has a gambling problem. 

Ha ha ha. Yeah, I know about that. The gambling world is small, my brother, and word on the street is that you’ll probably end up broke since you bet on everything. The stupidest things…

Anyway, Viviana will never want you mainly because of that. I wish I could be there to watch her crush your spirits again. I guess I’ll just have to watch from the sidelines. Oh, and good luck with that trifling mother of hers. I wouldn’t be surprised if after seven years, Chandra starts showing her face again.

Enjoy the benefits of owning a casino. It has served me well.

Thomas.

Hunter’s heart was beating so fast and hard, everyone in the office could probably hear it. He hadn’t realized he had balled the letter up in his hand, but when he noticed he had, he tossed it on the attorney’s desk. 

“Sell my half of the casino as soon as possible. I want my inheritance in cash,” he blurted, and jerked out of his seat, causing the chair to fall backward. He stormed out of the office, wanting nothing to do with anything that once belonged to Thomas. 

And that included Viviana.

Copyright © 2022 by Sharon C. Cooper

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author 

USA Today bestselling author Sharon C. Cooper loves anything involving romance with a happily-ever-after, whether in books, movies, or real life. She writes contemporary romance, as well as romantic suspense and enjoys rainy days, carpet picnics, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her stories have won numerous awards over the years, and when Sharon isn’t writing, she’s hanging out with her amazing husband, doing volunteer work, or reading a good book (a romance of course). To read more about Sharon and her novels, visit www.sharoncooper.net

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Spotlight: The Reckless Union by Monica Murphy

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(Arranged Marriage, #3)
Publication date: August 16th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Our marriage may look like a fairytale, but outside forces threaten to tear us apart. Don’t they realize that nothing will keep me apart from Charlotte? Not my family. Not hers either.

What started out as a relationship in name only has evolved into something much more. Something deeper. And when Charlotte is taken from me, I launch into action, determined to rescue her.

She's mine. Nothing is going to stop me from being with her.

Not a damn thing.

Welcome to the Midnight Dynasty... The warring Morelli and Constantine families have enough bad blood to fill an ocean, and their brand new stories will be told by your favorite dangerous romance authors.

WARNING: This book is intended for readers eighteen years old and over. It contains material that some readers could find disturbing. Enter at your own risk...

Excerpt

Charlotte

I startle awake with a gasp, my eyelids heavy with fatigue when I barely crack them open to find I’m in an empty room. Taking in my surroundings, I note the cheap white blinds covering the single window, the bent ones letting in the waning sunlight from outside. I shift, tingles prickling along my legs. My feet. My lower half has fallen asleep, my butt killing me thanks to the hardwood floor I’m sitting on. Grimacing, I try to stretch my feet but the rope around my ankles cuts into my skin.

At least the tape isn’t covering my mouth anymore, I think as I take a deep breath. I swear Seamus did that only for the photos he took on his phone. The minute he was finished, he tore the tape off my face with a gleeful expression, his eyes dancing when I yelped in pain.

The asshole.

I have no idea who he could’ve sent those photos to. My family? My parents wouldn’t care. Not really. My brothers? They’re both so busy working deals and conquering New York City, I doubt they’d notice text messages with photos. Mom forgets to check her phone most of the time and my father lets his messages pile up to an ungodly amount.

Maybe he didn’t send those photos to anyone. Maybe he’ll use them later. Or he took them for his own personal pleasure. I don’t understand him, or know what makes him tick.

Does he plan on keeping me forever?

A shiver steals through me at the thought.

If he sent those photos to my husband, Perry will kill him when he finds us. He hates Seamus with every fiber of his being, as well he should. And you know what?

I do too.

Before, I didn’t. Everything that happened between us feels like a lifetime ago. Seeing Seamus the morning of my wedding had been a total shock to the system. Completely unexpected and downright surreal. When I first spotted him, I thought I was hallucinating. How could he suddenly appear in front of me on my wedding day? What are the chances?

I’m realizing there’s no such thing as chance encounters. Not in this situation. He planned it. Somehow, he found out about my impending wedding—it was public knowledge, of course he found out—and decided to make an appearance.

Why? To try and lure me back? And when that didn’t work, then he abducts me? Has he gone mad? Seriously, what he’s doing isn’t normal. Or sane.

I’m worried for his mental state, which means I’m also worried about…me. My safety. How is this going to end? I doubt he’s going to let me go easily.

Unease slips through me and I close my eyes. Remind myself I need to stay strong. I can get out of this—and get back to my husband. Perry is jealous of my relationship with Seamus when he shouldn’t be. What I had with Seamus was nothing compared to what’s growing between my husband and I. In Paris, with Seamus, I was a little girl with a crush.

Now I’m a woman who’s married and is slowly but surely growing to care about her husband.

If Seamus messes this up in any way, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Buy on Amazon | Audible

About the Author

Monica Murphy is a New York Times, USA Today and international bestselling author. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance.

She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere, along with their four cats and one crazy dog. She's a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to sometimes putting her characters through tough, angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.

Monica is also known as USA Today bestselling romance author Karen Erickson (http://karenerickson.com).

Connect:

https://monicamurphyauthor.com/

https://www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyauthor

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Spotlight: Becoming Family by Elysia Whisler

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Publication Date: August 16, 2022

Publisher: MIRA Books

Contemporary romance for fans of Jill Shalvis and Lori Foster, returning to the characters of the Dogwood County series, Book 3 follows Tabitha Steele as she plans to have her best year ever.

On her thirtieth birthday, Tabitha realizes she hasn’t much to show for her life since she left military service. Tabitha makes a hasty vow that she will make this the best year of her life, which is a tall order considering her mish-mash of unfulfilling jobs, her stagnant social life, and the crippling PTSD she has to overcome on a near-daily basis. But she thinks she can do it with the help of her beloved service dog, Trinity.

Chris Hobbs, the playful and wild-hearted bad boy of the Semper Fit gym, is Tabitha’s complete opposite. Which is why, despite his habit of dating any woman who bats an eye at him, he's always steered clear of Tabitha, even though they've formed a tight friendship. Especially because of that.

Excerpt

ONE

Tabitha’s radar was lit before the woman even entered the store. The way she whipped into the parking space, killed the engine at a crooked angle and jangled the bell over the shop door like it was being throttled. Tabitha had just taken a bite of the Really Big Cookie—a birthday indulgence bought at the community college cafeteria—when the woman marched right up to the front counter and, without so much as hello, slapped down some pictures. “My father’s old Harley has been sitting in the barn for decades,” she declared, out of breath. “And I’m determined to get it going.”

Tabitha closed up her Journal of Invincibility—I am not afraid; I was born to do this. ~Joan of Arc—and tucked it behind the counter, like a mother protecting her young. The woman went on for a bit, while Tabitha tried to chew and swallow her treat. When she was done ranting, she stood there in silence. Eventually, she shook her head. “Don’t you know anything about motorcycles?” Big-breasted, big-hipped, big personality, big, brassy red hair, the customer rested her elbow on the counter and leaned against it, settling in.

“Not much, no.” A hunk of cookie fell from Tabitha’s lips and landed on the front of her Triple M Classics employee T-shirt. She hastily brushed it away and gestured to the shelves that lined the rear of the shop. “I just ring up the merchandise. Keep tabs on the floor when the mechanics are in the back.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, but that just prompted images from school this morning, which she didn’t want in her head. Still, with her eyes closed, Tabitha sensed that this wasn’t really about the motorcycle. The woman was upset, possibly grieving. The motorcycle meant something to her and she wanted quick answers because she was searching for a way to ease her pain. Tabitha opened her eyes again, looked past the woman and settled her gaze on Trinity, the little black rescue pit bull who always made her feel better.

“Then get the mechanic. Or, better yet, get the owner. Where’s Delaney Monroe?”

“She’s on an errand.” Tabitha kept her gaze on Trinity, who lay near the stairs that led to Delaney’s apartment. She was catching some zees in the dog bed intended for Delaney’s dog, Wyatt. For about the third time that day Tabitha thought, What am I doing here? I’m not cut out for this.

“Delaney Monroe is who I came to see,” the woman pressed. “I heard she’s an expert on classic bikes. If you work in a bike shop, you should know about bikes. I don’t have time for this.” She straightened up and planted her hands on her hips.

“Delaney’s out. Maybe I can help.”

Tabitha turned to the sound of Nora’s raspy voice.

“I’m Nora. One of the mechanics.” Delaney’s mom had come out of the back room, wiping grease from her fingers with a shop rag. She had a cigarette tucked behind her ear, right where her temples were starting to gray. The rest of her hair was silky black and tied back in a ponytail. Nora was a small woman with a slight build, but the way she carried herself, she might as well have been six feet tall. She wore blue jeans and the same Triple M Classics T-shirt and she locked her fearless, almond-shaped eyes into the irritated gaze of the customer. “Whatcha got?” She nodded at the photographs.

The woman pushed them across the countertop. “This has been in my father’s barn for ages. He recently passed and I’m not sure if it’s worth fixing up.”

Nora went silent while she leafed through the pictures. “An old Harley Panhead,” she murmured. “Sweet. Do you know the year? Looks like a ’49.”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

Tabitha felt a shift in the air as the woman’s demeanor changed, her anger melting away, relief softening her shoulders and her scrunched-up mouth. Crisis averted.

“The window on a Panhead is only ’48 to ’65. The emblem on the gas tank in this shot tells me it’s a ’49.” Nora tapped the top photo with her grease-stained finger.

The woman stuck out her hand, a huge grin on her face. “Nelly Washington. Nice to meet you.”

“Nora.” Nora glanced at Nelly’s hand but didn’t touch her. “My girl owns this place.”

“I’ve heard good things.”

“Damn straight you heard good things. My girl’s the best.”

Nelly gave off a deep belly laugh and used the humor as an excuse to withdraw her unrequited handshake. “Can she fix it up? Make it run?”

Like a cowgirl walking into a saloon in an old Western, Delaney pushed open the shop door at that moment. The bell jangled as she strode inside, motorcycle boots thunking over the floor, helmet in her gloved hand. Delaney was taller than her mother by several inches, had the same slender build and dark hair, but in a pixie cut. Wyatt, the wandering white pit bull with the brown eye patch, trotted in next to her, still wearing his Doggles. Delaney slipped the eye protection off her motorcycle-riding companion. Wyatt spotted Trinity on his dog bed and raced over to play. He leaned on his front paws, butt in the air, tail wagging, then jumped backward and spun. When that didn’t work, he danced all around her, flipping his head and poking his muzzle in the air. Trinity, unmoved, looked to Tabitha for instruction.

“Break, Trinity,” Tabitha said, and the dogs were soon twining necks like ponies.

Nora waved at her daughter and shrugged at Nelly. “You’ll need to bring the bike in. See what’s up. Is it dry?”

“Been in the shed. Covered up.” Nelly’s gaze went to Delaney as she neared.

“She means did you drain the carburetor and gas tank,” Delaney clarified, settling her helmet on the counter. “Before you stored it.”

“Oh.” Nelly’s face went straight. “I don’t know, actually. My father is the one who stored it. Once his arthritis got too bad for him to ride.”

“That’ll make a difference,” Delaney continued, like she’d been in on the conversation from the beginning. “That, and how straight the bike was when it was put up.” She glanced at the photos. “A ’49 Panhead. Cool. Bring it in. We’ll take a look.”

“I will definitely do that. Thank you. My father recently passed away. He used to take me on rides on that bike when I was a little girl.” Nelly’s voice grew faraway, wistful. “We’d go to the general store and he’d buy me a grape soda. I loved feeling the wind in my hair.” Nelly waved a hand. “This was before helmet laws. Anyway.” The reminiscent look in Nelly’s eyes slid away and she sniffed deeply. “Are you Delaney?”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. I’ve never met a Panhead I can’t get going.”

Tabitha stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth and tried to sneak away, her lack of motorcycle knowledge no longer an issue. Her shift was over, she was exhausted and she was ready to go home.

“Get back here, Steele.” Delaney grasped the hem of Tabitha’s shirt and pulled her back gently. “You need to take down this lady’s information. The more you listen, the more you’ll learn. Pretty soon you’ll know a Harley Panhead on sight.” Delaney nodded at Tabitha. “She’s still learning.”

“She seems like a nice young lady.” Nelly was all smiles now, like their earlier interaction had never happened.

After Tabitha filled out a capture sheet with Nelly Washington’s information, and the woman had left the shop in an entirely different mood than the one she’d barged in with, Delaney turned to her and said, “What’s going on, Steele? You look ready to lie on the floor and call your dog for Smoosh Time.”

Smoosh Time was Delaney’s slang for the deep pressure therapy Trinity was trained to provide if Tabitha was having a panic attack. It was affectionate rather than sarcastic. Unused to affection, Tabitha liked it and had taken to calling the therapy Smoosh Time herself. Smoosh Time actually sounded really good about now. But Trinity was still on break, chasing Wyatt around the perimeter of the shop. “It’s been a long day.”

“Massage school getting you down?”

“Old Nelly was kinda rough on her,” Nora offered. She slipped the cigarette from behind her ear and stuck it between her lips.

“That’s why she’s learning as much as she can.” Delaney tapped the capture sheet. “That’s all you can do, Steele. I don’t expect you to become a mechanic, unless you want to, but you soak in everything you can while you’re here.” She glanced at her mother. “Don’t you dare light that in here, Nora.”

Nora pulled it from her lips and rolled her eyes. “I’m not. It’s just a prop, okay?”

“How many days has it been?” After some hemming and hawing Delaney clarified, “For real.”

“Half a day,” Nora admitted. “I’d gone two days and then I caved this morning. It’s so hard not to smoke after I eat. Maybe I need to stop eating.”

Delaney shook her head. “You gotta be tough, Nora. Like Tabitha here.”

“I’m not tough.” Tabitha had been enjoying watching the mother-daughter pair interact, despite how rough her day had been so far. They made her wonder what her relationship with her birth mother would’ve been like, if she’d known her. Tabitha’s relationship with Auntie El—the woman who’d raised her and the only mother Tabitha had ever known—was as old-fashioned as it got. Yes, ma’am, No, ma’am, please and thank you, respect your elders and all boundaries clearly drawn and rarely crossed. There was none of this role reversal or sarcastic banter. Life certainly hadn’t been easy, and Tabitha had been handed absolutely nothing. If that didn’t make her tough, nothing would. “Tough is just not my nature.”

Sensitive was Tabitha’s nature, for good or bad. The armor she lacked had never been very useful, not until she joined the navy and her main job in Afghanistan was to protect her chaplain from harm. She’d been pretty good at smelling trouble, hearing things nobody else heard, seeing things nobody else saw. Some had even jokingly called her Radar, after the character from M*A*S*H. It made her good at her job, despite the fact that she hadn’t been able to prevent the IED that had got her chaplain hurt, and despite the fact that the skill was kind of useless, and often counterintuitive, in everyday life.

“You’re tough-ish, Tabitha,” Nora agreed. “Which means you got potential. Just gotta stand up for yourself with lippy women like Nelly.”

“Spill it, Steele.” Delaney shot her mother a silencing look. “What’s going on?”

“You were right, Sarge,” Tabitha admitted. She hadn’t planned on discussing her day, but there was just something about Delaney, the woman she’d met at Camp Leatherneck years ago. The woman who’d helped her keep her head straight during that awful day when an IED had taken out her convoy. “It’s massage school.”

“What about it?”

“It’s the student exchanges.” Tabitha drew a deep breath. “We have to swap with our classmates once a week to practice the strokes we learn in class. At first, I was doing really well. Everyone loved my massages and said that I just had that magic touch. But then…well… I’m doing something wrong. I’m not…massaging right.” Tabitha bit down on her lower lip.

“How can you not massage right?” Nora spoke around the unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. “Aren’t you just squirting lotion on each other? How hard can that be?”

“No. We’re not just squirting lotion. It’s a lot more than that.” Tabitha was used to Nora’s directness at this point, and did her best to not let Delaney’s mother get under her skin. “You have to learn all the bones and muscles and physiology. Plus all the strokes. There’s a lot of science. You have to learn about how the body moves and how everything works together. And then you have to massage in such a way that you’re helping people. And right now, I’m not helping anyone.” Just like she hadn’t been able to help Nelly Washington with her Panhead. Tabitha wasn’t helping anyone, anywhere.

She was an impostor in every aspect of her own life.

Nora pulled a Zippo from her pocket and flipped it open. “How do you know?” She ran her thumb over the wheel, making a clicking sound with the lighting mechanism without actually bringing the flame to life.

“I’m…” Tabitha sighed and faced the blank expressions of the women. “I’m giving the men erections.”

A round of silence passed.

“I’ve done it three times now, to three different men. So it’s not like a one-off. I’m doing something wrong.”

“Man,” Delaney said, shaking her head. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

Wyatt gave off a loud woof and everyone burst into laughter.

“Well.” Nora stuck the cigarette behind her ear and jammed the lighter in the front pocket of her jeans. “Au contraire, but I bet those men think you’re doing something right.”

“We’re definitely not supposed to get erections,” Tabitha insisted. All three men had reacted differently. Todd—young, indifferent, thought massage therapy would be an easy career field—had pretended it didn’t happen. Frank—in his forties, quiet, deliberate—had been embarrassed and would no longer make eye contact with Tabitha in class. Corbin—a loud twentysomething who called everyone dude—had eyed his own erection with detached interest and announced, “You’re doing something wrong, dude.”

Delaney shook her head. “Men are just like that. The wind blows and their dicks get hard. I wouldn’t be so down on yourself.”

“I already struggle with the science. Like right now we’re learning all the bones, with all their divots and ridges and stuff. It’s excruciating and not coming easily to me,” Tabitha said. “And now I’m screwing up the massages. I’m starting to think I’m just not cut out for it.” Just like I’m not cut out for this bike shop, she didn’t add. She already knew Delaney had given her the job out of pity. No need to shine a spotlight.

“Sounds like the bones are coming easily to you,” Nora muttered as she collected today’s paperwork from the counter and started to file it away. “You’ll be the most requested massage girl in the county. I don’t see what the big problem is.”

Delaney stifled a laugh. “Don’t listen to her. Ask Red about it later. We have the Halloween party, remember?”

The party. Tabitha died a little inside. “Right. The party. Tonight.” But Delaney was right. Tonight she could ask Constance, “Red” for short, the famous massager of humans and dogs alike, about the erections. See what advice she had to give. She’d been the one to talk Tabitha into massage school in the first place, claiming Tabitha had a gift for connecting with people. She was connecting, all right. Just not in the way she meant to.

Delaney grinned and slapped her on the shoulder. “Go home and get some Smoosh Time with your dog, Steele. Rest up. We’ll figure out the boners later.”

Excerpted from Becoming Family by Elysia Whisler. Copyright © 2022 by Elysia Whisler. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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About the Author

Elysia Whisler is the author of RESCUE YOU and other coming titles in the Dogwood County series. She was raised in Texas, Italy, Alaska, Mississippi, Nebraska, Hawai'i and Virginia, in true military fashion. Her nomadic life made storytelling a compulsion from a young age. Her work as a massage therapist and a CrossFit trainer informs her stories. She lives in Virginia with her family, including her large brood of cat and dog rescues, who vastly outnumber the humans.

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