Spotlight: Risk of a Lifetime by Claudia Shelton

Publication date: February 7th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

JB hadn’t been an angel the past few years. And he sure hadn’t counted on being his ex-wife’s protector.

From the moment FBI agent JB Bradley returns to his hometown, he’s tossed into one life-threatening situation after another. All aimed at his ex-wife Marcy. Further complicating matters, their attraction is just as strong as ever.

Marcy’s scared. Her career in marriage counseling has had some dangerous moments, but never anything like robberies, bombs or being shot. She’s even more afraid that JB will discover the truth about their marriage and the divorce papers.

JB can’t wait for another attack on Marcy. He’s made the two of them an escape plan. One where he controls the time and the trail through the woods he grew up hiking. Marcy won’t like the setting, but together they’ll make the cold winter run. Hopefully, the villain will take the bait.

Excerpt

JB wondered what the hell had just transpired with the doctor, but some things weren’t his business. One thing for sure, though, he didn’t plan to leave town until the robbery and shooting were well on their way to being solved. Even if it meant staying around longer than he’d planned.

That would give him time to consider which job to take next. The police department he’d applied to in Texas? Or the covert ops he’d been asked to be a part of a few months back? Both thought he was good enough. Both wanted him. And both locations would keep him away from Crayton...and the only woman who’d ever made him smile morning and night. 

Only Marcy hadn’t been strong enough to let go of her father’s death and face the fact JB’s job would always be in law enforcement. Too bad they hadn’t realized the fact before they were married. Would have saved a lot of heartbreak on both sides. 

“Where’s Marcy?” he asked.

The doctor grabbed the forms and headed down the hall. “They should be rolling her into surgery about now.”

JB charged past him. Past the nurses’ station. Past Truman, Marcy’s stepfather. Past a waiting room full of familiar faces. He had to see Marcy, touch her. Later, if she didn’t remember him being there, that would be okay. He’d know. He could live with knowing. She might not be his wife but keeping her alive and well was his top priority the next few days. 

A gurney edged out of her hospital room. 

“Hold up!” JB shouted to the orderly. 

Grasping her hand, his breaths came ragged—and not from the short sprint down the hall—as he stroked wisps of hair from her forehead. Damn, even the antiseptic smell of the hospital couldn’t cover the remembered scent of her jasmine shampoo.

He leaned in close. “How you doing, sugar?”

“I’m cold.” Her eyes fluttered open. “It hurts. A lot.”

“Doc Crowley’s going to fix that.”

The orderly tried to move the gurney forward, but JB braced it in place with his body. His lips brushed her temple. “Oh, Marcy. Marcy, Marcy, Marcy.”

“JB.” She opened her eyes full force. “Why’d you leave?”

Give her the truth. Tell her how much her words made you feel you weren’t good enough for her. How you couldn’t stand to see her frightened for you every day you left for work as a lawman. Or that you needed to prove something to yourself. 

No. This wasn’t the time or place. Maybe it never would be.

“Because you let me go.” He swallowed hard then brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Don’t forget you’re the one who locked me out.”

Her eyes closed and her breathing weakened.

“Why’d you send the divorce papers?” He needed her answer. Needed to know what or who had taken his place.

“I figured you’d get mad and come back...and we’d be like before.” She loosened the hold on his hand. “Didn’t work. You never came back.”

Like before? They’d been young and naive. Not anymore. He’d developed an edge that went with the job. One she’d never be able to understand. And her? From the letters Sadie sent him, Marcy had regrouped and moved forward. But she’d still never left Crayton except to go to college.

Like before? Nothing could ever be like before.

A nurse opened the doors to surgery, and the orderly pushed Marcy into the cool hallway. The doors slowly closed back into place. 

He braced his head against the doorframe. A whole lot had happened in the last eight hours since he drove back into Crayton. One hell of a lot.

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About the Author

Heroes and stories to love! Making moments to remember for a lifetime!

Words to LIVE by-- "Life is a great big canvas, throw all the paint you can at it."...Danny Kaye 

Words to LOVE by-- "A man's kiss is his signature."...Mae West 

Award winning author Claudia Shelton fills her romantic suspense with sexy heroes, strong women and plot twists all the way to the fast-paced endings. Her contemporary romances are (once again) filled with sexy heroes and strong women, but, usually, she adds a bit of heartwarming along the way. To stay on top of all her writing shenanigans, giveaways, release info, etc. join her newsletter: http://claudiasheltonauthor.com/

On a personal note, Claudia considers herself a storyteller and music lover, a traveler and water person. She loves a cool drink while listening to the splash of waves, but is just as happy with a mug of hot cocoa in the falling snow. Her main priority is spending time with family, friends and her two sweet, conniving rescue dogs. And making moments to remember are my life goals!

Connect:

http://claudiasheltonauthor.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ClaudiaSheltonWriter

https://www.pinterest.ca/claudiashelton1/

https://www.instagram.com/claudiasheltonauthor/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/205777.Claudia_Shelton

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Spotlight: Falling for the Rookie by Carina Rose

Release Date: February 7

People rarely catch me off guard. I’m Collin St. James, after all, starting wide receiver for the Virginia Thunder, and playing football has kept me on my toes. But nothing could have prepared me to mentor our newest teammate, kicker Charlie Nicholson.

I wasn’t caught off guard because I had to take someone under my wing, or because Charlie was easily banging sixty-yard kicks through the uprights. It happened when the rookie’s silver helmet came off and long blonde hair spilled out. Completely baffled, I edged closer and took in the prettiest blue eyes I’d ever seen.

Charlie wasn’t only a complete knockout, she was also my younger sister’s closest friend, and when she smiled at me, I knew right then and there I was in serious trouble.

The last thing I needed was a distraction, but thanks to my gorgeous new teammate—and, to my surprise, my roommate—that was exactly what I got. 

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About the Author

Carina loves everything about romance. To her, it’s the little things that matter. She also believes in insta-love, since she knew her husband was the one the first day she met him.

When it comes to books, she uses them as an escape from reality. . . . to get swept away. Carina hopes her words do the same for her readers.

She’s a mother and wife and loves spending time with her family. She enjoys meeting new people, traveling, reading, watching sports, and, of course, relaxing on a beach.

Carina looks forward to sharing more love stories in her future novels.

Connect with Carina Rose:

https://www.carinarosebooks.com 

Spotlight: The Story of Keilah by Joann Keder

Publication date: February 6th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary

Synopsis:

Keilah moved to Sandy Salts, Iowa in search of a fresh start. Little did she know, acclimating to the quirky town in the middle of nowhere would be more complicated than she anticipated.

Her elderly landlord, Dee, has a dark secret that has followed her since childhood. Dee’s younger brother was kidnapped decades ago and never found. While the spunky woman tries not to talk about the painful ordeal, the mystery of his disappearance constantly haunts her.

Digging into the cold case residents have all but forgotten, Keilah unwittingly discovers shocking secrets from her own past. The explosive truth she uncovers could change the town of Sandy Salts and Keilah, forever.

Excerpt

The Salty Sun, Established 1925

Vanessa Withers, Reporter

Jenny Jacobson, age 82

Our dear Jenny went to be with the High and Mighty yesterday at 4 p.m. She wasn’t upset about dying. As she told this reporter during a chance encounter at a coffee shop, “This lady has gotten her work done and you can only lounge in the sun so long before the sand in your crack becomes unbearable.”

Jenny was born in Wallyville. Her folks were out shopping for a new car that day and lost track of time. She barely outlived her mother, who died at the age of 103 a week ago last Thursday, after finding a big spider’s nest in her bathtub. 

Most of Jenny’s life was spent giving to others. After graduating with a teaching degree, she moved to Canada where she taught English and P.E. for twenty-five years. Upon retirement, she decided to move back to Sandy Salts to open a secondhand goods and firsthand ice cream store, called D’ Ya Want Seconds? Folks who couldn’t afford the ice cream could trade clothing or good, used appliances for a scoop. Nobody went away hungry. 

She closed the place two years ago in order to fulfill her lifelong dream of traveling the world with a younger man. After finding her companion via an online ad, Jenny and Javier spent time in Spain, Greece, New Zealand, and Cancun. She died last week in the garden of her Sandy Salts home with a smile on her face

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About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author, Joann Keder spent most of her years in the Midwest, growing up and raising a family on the Great Plains of Nebraska. She worked for sixteen years as a piano teacher before returning to school to receive a master's degree in creative writing. A mid-life move to the Pacific Northwest led her to re-examine her priorities. She now creates stories about life and relationships in small towns while her ever-patient husband encourages her on.

Connect:

https://www.joannkeder.com/

https://www.facebook.com/jkederauthor/

https://www.instagram.com/joannkeder_author/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3266457.Joann_Keder

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Spotlight: At Last by Whitney Dineen

(Seven Brides for Seven Mothers, #8)
Publication date: February 1st 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Queen Charlotte of Malquar has been hard at work setting up all her children, but so far, she’s been unable to find someone for Sophie.

Princess Sophie was supposed to be the second royal sibling to marry, but she broke her engagement when she found out her fiancé was cheating on her.

Sophie has all but given up hope of finding her own fairytale ending. That is, until a mystery bouquet of roses shows up at the palace. The note says they’re from Arlo Hammond. After years of pining for the man she thought was her everlasting love, Sophie finally released all thoughts of Arlo, only to have him show up again thirteen years later. Why?

Will Arlo’s explanation win Sophie’s forgiveness? Will she give him another chance and find her own happy ending at last? Or will the heartache of the past be too much to forgive?

Find out in the final installment of Dineen’s bestselling and deliciously romantic Seven Brides for Seven Mothers series!

Excerpt

Curling up on my living room sofa, I snuggle under my favorite cashmere throw before picking up the telephone. After punching in the number, I smile when I hear the voice of my dearest friend from university days. “Sophie!” Avery sounds both surprised and delighted. “It’s been ages. How are you?”

“I’m confused,” I tell her bluntly.

“The farthest fork out is for the fish course,” she teases.

“Ha ha ha.” I love how easily we fall into old banter. It’s always been like this between us. But of course, I didn’t call to chit chat. “Do you remember Arlo Hammond?”

I hear her choke on what I’m guessing is her morning coffee. Having grown up in the States, Aves never was one for tea. “Of course I remember. But I thought he was old news.”

“He's been sending me flowers once a month for the last seven months.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“I figured I’d wait to see if he said anything interesting.”

“And?”

I hear a sharp knock, which I’m hoping is someone from the kitchen with the decadent sweet breads I’ve ordered. Even though my waistline doesn’t need the indulgence, I’m still going to enjoy them. “Hold on, Aves,” I tell her before getting up to retrieve my breakfast. 

Padding across my living room rug in bare feet, I pull the door open. My enthusiasm vanishes when I see that my visitor is not from the kitchen. It’s my mother. “What are you doing here?” I greet none too politely.

“Good morning to you, too.” She pushes her way through the door. 

“I’m on an important call, Mum. I can’t chat right now.” If I tell her who I’m talking to, she’ll simply demand to get on the phone and have her own conversation with Avery. 

Stopping in her tracks next to the trestle table against the wall in my foyer, she says, “I see you received the flowers that arrived yesterday.”

“I did.” When she doesn’t immediately respond, I add, “Is there any way we can talk later? I really need to get back to my call. It’s rather important.” Let her assume I’m planning the next big charity event, and child literacy itself is at stake. Participating in charitable events is nearly all I do as a working royal, and while I know it’s an important contribution, it sometimes bores me to the bone.

“I’ll be in the parlor between ten and eleven,” she tells me before backtracking toward the door. Before she walks through it, she adds, “I’ll expect you at ten.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mum.” I’m about to shut the door when I spot the serving girl from the kitchen walking down the hall with my breakfast. I indicate that I’m leaving the door open for her before hurrying back to the couch. 

As soon as I pick up the phone, I hear Avery yelling at someone, “Not there! I asked you to put them in the linen closet.”

“Who are you lording it over?” I ask with a laugh. 

“My husband, of course.  We’re only now getting down to the business of unpacking all the bedding.”

“But you’ve been married and in the house for over six months,” I tell her. 

“You know me, Soph, I’m not that fussy. I’m okay with washing the old sheets and then returning them to the bed. However, my mother-in-law feels that kind of bohemian nonsense isn’t good enough for her Tony. She made me register for six sets of linens and now I have to store them all. I should dump them off at her house.”

“I don’t even have that many extra sheets,” I tell her. 

“I venture you don’t have any idea how many sheets there are in that castle you call home. But you didn’t call me to talk about bedding. You called about Arlo.”

As the server pushes the trolley over the threshold, I motion for her to leave it there before mouthing a quick thank you. When she shuts the door behind her, I ask my friend, “What is he doing getting in touch after all these years?”

“You can’t guess?”  

“Avery, what happened between us was over thirteen years ago. It barely even started before it was over.”

“You talked about him constantly for two years,” she reminds me. 

It’s true, I did. Arlo Hammond made a huge impact on my life in a very short amount of time, but there was no way there could ever have been anything between us. “I did what I was supposed to do, and I forgot him.”

“Why were you supposed to forget him again?” 

“Avery Flemming, you know perfectly well.”

“What I know is that your parents are much more open-minded than you give them credit for.”

I don’t give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her. I simply say, “Maybe …”

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About the Author

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

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Spotlight: Code Name Sapphire: A World War 2 Novel by Pam Jenoff

About the Book:

A woman must rescue her cousin's family from a train bound for Auschwitz in this riveting tale of bravery and resistance during World War II

1942. Hannah Martel has narrowly escaped Nazi Germany after her fiancé was killed in a pogrom. When her ship bound for America is turned away at port, she has nowhere to go but to her cousin Lily, who lives with her family in Brussels. Fearful for her life, Hannah is desperate to get out of occupied Europe. But with no safe way to leave, she must return to the dangerous underground work she thought she had left behind.

Seeking help, Hannah joins the Sapphire Line, a secret resistance network led by a mysterious woman named Micheline and her enigmatic brother Matteo. But when a grave mistake causes Lily’s family to be arrested and slated for deportation to Auschwitz, Hannah finds herself torn between her loyalties. How much is Hannah willing to sacrifice to save the people she loves? Inspired by incredible true stories of courage and sacrifice, Code Name Sapphire is a powerful novel about love, family and the unshakable resilience of women in even the hardest of times.

Excerpt

 Micheline 

February 1942 

Micheline threw the still-smoldering Gauloises cigarette to the ground and crushed it with the high heel of her black leather boot. Then she marched across the darkened Paris street and grabbed the man she’d never seen before by the lapels, throwing him back against the stained brick wall of the station. 

“Kiss me!” she ordered in English, whispering tersely. 

The airman, his crew cut a dead giveaway despite his French civilian clothing and chapeau, stood motionless, too surprised to move as Micheline reached up and pulled him toward her, pressing her open mouth against his. His musty scent was mixed with a hint of tobacco. The streetlight cast a yellow pool on the pavement around them, illuminating their embrace. Micheline felt the man’s body responding against her own. The navy beret which covered her red curls tilted off-center, threatening to fall to the ground.

A second later, Micheline broke away and brought her mouth close to his ear. “If you hope to live, follow me.” Without another word, she started away down the Rue des Récollets. She sensed the one-two beat as he hesitated, followed by the rapid pattern of his footsteps against the icy pavement. She strained hard to make sure she did not hear anyone else following them but did not dare to look back.

Micheline slowed, allowing the airman to catch up. When he reached her, she moved closer, linking her arm in his and tilting her head toward his shoulder. Anyone watching would have thought them just a smitten couple.

Micheline had spotted the airman a few minutes earlier, standing on the pavement outside the Gare de l’Est, a half kilometer from the intended rendezvous spot, looking out of place. It was always that way with the Brits, scared and barely out of school. The passeur, a girl from Brittany called Renee, was supposed to escort the airman. Her instructions had been simple: deliver the soldier to the Hotel Oud-Antwerpen, where a local contact would take him and hide him for the night. But Renee had never shown. Something must have gone wrong and she’d panicked and fled, leaving the airman alone.

Another ten minutes outside the station and the police would have picked him up. There was already a gendarme at the corner, watching the solider too steadily. That might have been what spooked Renee. Micheline, who was in Paris on an unrelated errand but was aware of the planned pickup, had seen the stranded airman by the station and knew she had to intervene. But Micheline had no way to lead him away on the open street without attracting attention. So she had resorted to The Embrace.

It was not the first time she had feigned passion in the service of the network. The Sapphire Line, as it was now called, had formed almost immediately after the war started. They had a singular purpose: ferrying downed British airmen from the Dutch or German borders across Belgium and occupied France to freedom. This was the hardest part of the journey, getting the airmen across Paris from Gare de l‘Est where they arrived to Gare d’Austerlitz where they would set out for points south. It was a few days across France to the Pyrenees, with only a brief stop or two for rest. When the line worked, it was brilliant. But when it failed, catastrophe. There were no second chances.

When they were several blocks from the station and out of sight of the policeman, Micheline pulled the airman into a doorway. He looked as though he expected her to kiss him again. Instead, she adjusted his chapeau in the classic French style so as not to give him away as a foreigner. The disguise, consisting of secondhand, outdated trousers and a too-large shirt, would not fool anyone. And if the clothes did not give him away, his tattered army boots certainly would. He would be forced to take those off farther south anyway. The evacuees tied their shoes around their necks and replaced them with alpargates, the strong laced sandals necessary for crossing the Bidasoa River into Spain.

“Where are you from?” Micheline demanded. She hated to speak aloud out here, but she had to verify that he was actually an airman and not a German spy before taking him to one of their safe houses. If the line was infiltrated even once, it would spread like a cancer, and the entire network would be gone.

The airman paused, his trained instinct not to answer. “Ely in Cambridgeshire.”

“What is the most popular movie in Britain right now?”

He thought for a second. “49th Parallel.”

“Good. What type of plane were you flying? How many men?”

“Halifax. Six. I don’t know if the others made it.” There was a choke in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” There were a half-dozen other questions she wanted to ask to verify his identity, if only there was time. But they had to keep moving. “Come.”

She started walking again more briskly now, savoring the familiar surge of adrenaline that rushed through her as she led the airman to safety. Though just twenty-three years old, Micheline had risen quickly to the top of the network, and she seldom got to undertake rescues herself anymore, instead overseeing operations from her headquarters in Brussels. But the job was fluid and changing. Sometimes, like now, when the mission called for it and there was no one else, she had to jump in. She had nearly forgotten how much she liked being in the field.

As the bell of the church of Saint-Chappelle tolled eleven, Micheline calculated mentally, judging the best way to protect the airman for the night. They had already missed the rendezvous with the contact at the hotel who would have hidden him. Paris was the most dangerous segment of the escape line, but it was often necessary because so many of the trains ran through the French capital. An airman could not simply be dropped at Gare de l’Est and expected to make his way across the city to the southern stations where the trains left for Lyon or Marseilles. No, he had to be individually ferried through the back streets and alleys by someone who knew the city and how to avoid the security checkpoints, and who spoke impeccable French in case they were stopped and questioned.

When they reached the banks of the Seine, Micheline led the airman across the Pont au Change and into the shadowy alleyways of the Left Bank, clinging to the shadows. The cafés were already closed, barkeepers turning chairs onto tables, snuffing out the candles that burned low. She forced herself to walk at a normal pace and not to run. Her close-fitted trench swished smartly below her knees. She looked to the passersby like she belonged in the throngs of students who frequented the Latin Quarter.

Thirty minutes later they reached the safe-house apartment on Rue de Babylone. Micheline took the airman’s hand and led him up the stairs to the apartment, a room which was bare except for a mattress and a weathered armoire and a sink in the corner. He would stay no longer than twelve hours in the city, just enough time to rest and carry on.

Inside, the airman looked weakened and confused. “We went down quickly after we were shot,” he offered, saying too much, as they all did. “They hit the fuel tank.”

“Are you wounded?”

“No. There were others, though. Someone will look for them, right?” She nodded, but it was a lie. The network could not spare the resources to go back and search for those who were wounded and presumed dead. He opened his mouth to ask something else, but she put her finger to her lips and shook her head. It was not safe to say too much anywhere, even here. The airman’s eyes widened. She had seen more than once how very afraid the young soldiers were, the ones who panicked or cried out in their sleep. They were eighteen and nineteen, not more than boys, and thousands of kilometers from home. Micheline herself was just a few years older and sometimes wondered why she could be strong when they could not.

“Empty your pockets,” she instructed firmly. There were too many times when a well-intentioned Brit carried something sentimental from home which would be a dead giveaway if he was stopped and questioned.

The airman glanced around the apartment. Then he turned back toward her hopefully, as if the kiss had been real and matters might continue here. “Did you want to…?”

Micheline stifled a laugh. She might have been offended at the overture, but he seemed so naive she almost pitied him. “Here.” She rummaged in the armoire for new clothes. Then she threw the clothes at him and gestured toward a screen that offered a bit of privacy at the far end of the room. “Get dressed.” He moved slowly, clumsily toward the divider. A tram clacked by on the street below, rattling the cloudy window panes.

A few minutes later, he reemerged in the simple shoes and buttoned shirt of a peasant farmer, an outfit that would help to get him through the south of France to the Pyrenees. She took his old clothes from him. “There’s bread in the cupboard,” she said. “Stay away from the windows, and don’t make a sound. Someone will come for you before dawn. That person will have a key. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

“Merci,” he ventured, and it seemed likely that it was all the French that he knew or understood.

“Bonne chance,” she replied, wishing him luck.

Without waiting for a response, she walked briskly from the apartment. She wondered uneasily whether he would still be safely there when the new passeur arrived to claim him for the next leg of his long journey home or whether another calamity would befall the already-struggling network.

Excerpted from Code Name Sapphire @ 2023 by Pam Jenoff, used with permission by Park Row Books.

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About the Author:

Pam Jenoff is the author of several books of historical fiction, including the New York Times bestsellers The Lost Girls of Paris and The Orphan's Tale. She holds a bachelor’s degree in international affairs from George Washington University and a master’s degree in history from Cambridge, and she received her Juris Doctor from the University of Pennsylvania. Jenoff’s novels are inspired by her experiences working at the Pentagon and also as a diplomat for the State Department handling Holocaust issues in Poland. She lives with her husband and three children near Philadelphia, where, in addition to writing, she teaches law school.

Connect:

Website: https://www.pamjenoff.com/ 

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/PamJenoff 

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/213562.Pam_Jenoff 

Mailing List: https://pamjenoff.com/mailing-list/ 

Spotlight: Serendipity by Carly Phillips

Release Date: February 3

He’s from the wrong side of the tracks. She lived in the house on the hill.

Now their fortunes have reversed…but their long-ago attraction still burns.

From high school golden girl to wife of a high-powered New York attorney, Faith Harrington lived the dream. Until divorce and her father’s imprisonment for fraud left her with almost nothing. Now she's back in her hometown to redesign her life, and not every face is friendly. Least of all the town rebel, whose memory lingered long after they shared one searing teenage kiss.

Ethan Barron is a bad boy. Was. Was a bad boy. Now a man—a very rich man—he quietly buys the old Harrington mansion to thumb his nose at Serendipity and the people who looked down on him. But until he reconciles with his brothers and builds a life, the victory rings hollow.

Faith had been a rich girl ripe for rebellion, and his shamelessly stolen kiss still burns in his dreams. Only a fool would risk feeding town gossip by asking her to redecorate the house she grew up in. But Ethan never did choose easy. Not when the hard way promises a much sweeter—and hotter—reward.

Note: Serendipity is book one of a previously published series by NYT Bestselling Author Carly Phillips. Contains a tarnished golden girl, a bad boy in search of redemption, a brother whose first order of business is to ticket his big bro’s Jag, and a town that runs on nosiness.

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About the Author

NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestseller, Carly Phillips gives her readers Alphalicious heroes to swoon for and romance to set your heart on fire. She married her college sweetheart and lives in Purchase, NY along with her three crazy dogs: two wheaten terriers and a mutant Havanese, who are featured on her Facebook and Instagram. The author of 50 romance novels, she has raised two incredible daughters who put up with having a mom as a full time writer. Carly’s book, The Bachelor, was chosen by Kelly Ripa as a romance club pick and was the first romance on a nationally televised bookclub. Carly loves social media and interacting with her readers. Want to keep up with Carly? Sign up for her newsletter (below) and receive TWO FREE books at www.carlyphillips.com.

Connect with Carly Phillips: https://linktr.ee/carlyphillips