Sneak Peak: Don't Forget Me Tomorrow by A.L. Jackson

🖤 Don’t Forget Me Tomorrow First Chapters Sneak Peek 🖤

NYT Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson has the prologue AND first chapter of her upcoming brother’s best friend, single mom, small town romance, Don’t Forget Me Tomorrow, available to read now before release day on October 5th! 

Prologue

I stared at her from across the room.

I could feel the walls closing in, and the need I’d had for her for my entire life growing stronger than it ever had. As if the two of us were hinged on this moment.

 â€śTell me I’m not too late. Tell me you still love me.” There was no stopping the plea.

Pain and desperation twisted through her expression. “Do you think I could ever stop loving you?”

The second she said it, I snapped, and I was across the room.

I crashed into her in a landslide of greed.

One hand dove into her hair and the other curled around the side of her neck as I crushed my mouth against hers.

Really kissing her for the first time.

Nothing had ever felt quite like kissing Dakota Cooper.

It was flames and heat and pure relief.

I sucked it in, imbibing the feeling as I devoured her mouth.

My chest nearly blew with the power of it. With the way my heart thrashed violently at my ribs. With the devotion that surged from the sacred place that had always been meant for her.

Except I’d always known why I couldn’t touch her. The reasons I’d built the walls between us.

Why she was only supposed to be my best friend’s little sister.

I’d crossed a line I wasn’t supposed to cross.

And I should have known I’d have to pay the penalty…

Chapter One - Ryder

What the fuck was she doing out here?

I slowed my motorcycle as I came upon a small white Volvo SUV pulled off to the side of the road, its hazards flashing through the dusky light as the summer day faded into grays.

My guts tangled in a knot of worry.

We were twenty miles outside of town, and the two-lane road was basically desolate except for a random car that whizzed by.

There was no mistaking that car. The rear window was a fucking billboard for the country market and café Dakota Cooper owned. It wasn’t like I blamed her for wanting to advertise, but I didn’t love that every fucking person in this town knew her name, either.

Where she worked and where she lived.

Not that there was a ton of privacy in a small town the size of Time River.

Everyone knew everyone.

And even if she lived in the middle of a bustling city, I was pretty sure she would have made a name for herself, anyway.

Hell, I figured every time she smiled at some unknowing fool, she carved herself into their memory.

Made her mark.

Unforgettable.

Protectiveness lined my insides in a sheet of steel.

It was nearing dark, and she was out here in the middle of nowhere.

By herself.

Any monster could roll up and catch her unaware.

Just like me.

My bike came to a rumbling stop ten feet behind her, and I killed the engine, tossed the kickstand, and swung off as I took stock of the situation.

Dakota was more than capable, but it still made me itch that she was on her knees in front of the back-passenger side tire, cranking at a handle on the jack to lift the rear-end of her car.

Looking like a goddamn vision beneath the rays of the setting sun.

I tamped the bolt of lust that stirred my dick, something I’d gotten really fucking good at over the years, and I edged toward her, my boots crunching on the loose gravel.

Awareness rippled through the twilight with my approach.

A flash of tension before it settled into something familiar and right.

“Funny, I didn’t see a call or text from you,” I said, words rough and carrying over a big truck that blew by, sending a flurry of debris scattering through the air.

Dakota glanced my way. The hint of a smile played through the shiny gloss coating her lush lips.

“That’s because I didn’t call you.” Her voice was a tease as she continued to crank the handle, though her breaths were coming hard with her exertion as the back-end of her Volvo slowly hoisted.

At least she had a blanket spread on the ground to protect her bare knees since she had on one of those sundresses she always chose to wear. Black fabric dotted with pink flowers that hugged every lush curve of her body.

I thought she might have been prescribed specific attire with the sole purpose of driving me out of my mind.

“You should have.”

“What, you think I’m not capable of fixing a flat tire?” Eyes the color of cinnamon and fire glinted back. “I seem to remember someone who insisted on making sure I knew where the jack and spare were when I bought this car.”

She arched a brow. Her cheeks were full and high, and the threat of that tiny dimple on the left side of her chin flickered and danced like temptation.

“Yeah, that was so you would know how to do it for when I’m not around, and here I am.” I lifted my tatted arms out to the sides.

Except if she had called an hour before, I wouldn’t have answered. I’d have been too wrapped up in the bullshit dragging me under. A millstone around my neck.

One day it would be the reason I drowned.

The thousand shades of brown in her eyes danced as she peered up at me, and she chuckled a low, throaty sound that shivered over my skin. “Of course, you are. Tell me you’re not stalking me?”

Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I let a smirk ride to my face. “You know it. It’s my job to know where you are at all times.”

“Is that so?” Her expression twisted in playful disbelief.

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Friends? Hardly. It sounds to me you’re acting more like my overbearing brother. I swear, if it was up to the two of you, I’d never step foot outside by myself.”

Sounded like a solid plan.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” I asked.

“I had to pop over to Costco in Poplar to grab some things for the café. What are you doing out here?” She tossed it back at me like she figured I’d been up to no good.

I had been, but I doubted it was what she was thinking.

Shame locked down my throat. As close as I was to Dakota, there would always be a wall. A place I couldn’t let her see. The fucking last thing in the world I wanted her to know about me.

My jaw clenched as I forced out the lie. “Just felt like feeling the wind on my face. My bike was calling to me.”

“A little hot for that, isn’t it?”

“Never too hot for me.” The smirk was back in full force.

With the history around us, I was thankful we’d gotten to this place.

Where we could be easy together.

Friends, even though it was fucking painful being this close to her most of the time.

But I would take her any way I could have her.

She scoffed and turned her attention back to the jack, clearly picking up on the innuendo I couldn’t help but slide into the conversation. Before I could let my brain spiral into depravity, I strode the rest of the way up to her.

It cast her in my shadow where I towered over her.

“Are you going to get up off your knees and let me help you, or are you just going to leave me standing here staring at you like a lazy prick?”

Leaning back, she swiped a bead of sweat that trickled from her hairline with her bare shoulder.

My fingers itched with the urge to reach out and trace the spot. But touching her was the last thing I could do. I wouldn’t taint her goodness with the sickness of me.

“Haven’t you learned yet that you don’t need to ride in like the cavalry, Ryder?”

“I already rode in, Cookie, so you might as well let me.”

I’d started calling her that years ago.

Now there was no way I could stop.

Pushing to standing, she waved at the flat tire. “Fine, if it makes you feel more like a man, then go for it.”

I shook my head at her. “Are you trying to bust my balls?”

“Someone needs to.” She punted me a grin.

I started to move to take her place, but she bent over to straighten the skirt of her dress.

It speared me to the spot.

Her tits were heavy and spilling out of the scooped neckline.

Her hips full and wide and perfectly hugged by the fabric.

Hair a warm brown that was streaked with honey, and she wore it in a high ponytail, the same way as she did most days, the lush locks wavy and draping over one shoulder.

I couldn’t help but envision wrapping my hand around it, tugging her head back, and devouring that lush mouth.

I swallowed hard, doing my best not to ogle my best friend’s baby sister.

Dude would fucking gut me if he had an inkling of an idea about the thoughts I had of her.

Too bad he was the least of my worries.

She moved a foot to the side, and I took her spot, reining that bullshit in.

I knew better.

Dakota was a friend. Like a sister to me. And I’d do well to remember it. Because I would never fucking drag her into the mess that was my life.

I cranked through the lug bolts, removed the tire, then was quick to replace it with the spare.

The whole time, I could feel her attention on me. Eyes tracing.

“You enjoying yourself, Cookie?” I canted a glance up at her. The last of the light caught her in its hazy rays.

Brown hair and mesmerizing eyes.

So goddamn pretty my stomach clutched.

Raking her teeth over her bottom lip, she tried to contain her laughter. “Guess I like you on your knees for me.”

A snort left my nose. I’d been for years, and she didn’t have a clue.

Giving a final tug at the lug nuts to make sure they were tight, I shifted to fully look up at her. “You need to make sure you’re not driving on this for long and take it in to get the original tire repaired or replaced.”

The cock of her head was nothing but a razzing challenge. “I am a capable adult, Ryder. I even own my own business.”

“Know that, Dakota.” The words were low.

“Then you can stop treating me like a little girl.” The barest flash of annoyance hit her expression.

If only that was the way I saw her.

“Go ahead and tell my brother while you’re at it,” she tacked on, rolling her eyes though there was affection woven through. “The two of you are ridiculous.”

“I just care about you, Dakota. About Kayden.” The admission came rough, and the sweat that suddenly slicked my skin didn’t have anything to do with the summer heat.

Thinking of Dakota’s son always got me that way. He was two, and the cutest fucking thing I’d ever seen.

I didn’t know if it was loyalty or jealousy that hit me hardest, not that I had any right to the last.

Softness radiated from her as she gazed down at me, that sweetness that was always lingering beneath the surface riding from her tongue. “You know I can’t call you every time some little thing goes wrong in my life and expect you to come running, Ryder. You’ve already done enough for me. Too much.”

Gratitude tinged with unease infiltrated her tone, her eyes dropping for a beat. I knew exactly where her mind had gone.

The money I’d given her to help start her business.

I released the jack and stood. There was nothing I could do but take her by the chin. More tender than I should. I towered over her, searching her face like there was a way I could get her to understand.

“That’s where you have it wrong, Dakota. You can. I expect you to call me. Whatever you need. And there is no such thing as too much when it comes to you. Do you understand?” The words left me like a tumble of stones. A plea and a demand.

Because I’d wanted to give her everything I had, but the only thing I had been able to do was give her the one gift that I could.

She viewed it as a debt. Like something she needed to repay.

She could never understand that what I’d given her was my heart.

Those pink lips parted, and fuck, greed twisted through me like a hurricane, cock pushing at my jeans like I might be able to possess the one woman I could never have.

“I don’t want you to waste your time on me,” she whispered. “I know you have your own life. Things you need to take care of.”

A puff of disbelief escaped between my lips. “You could never be a waste, Dakota Cooper.”

The air thickened. Growing dense and pushing in. Heavy and hot. A dragging pull between us.

My phone pinged in my pocket, and both of us jumped back like it was a warning going off that we were about to cross a line we couldn’t cross.

Blowing out a steadying sigh, I dug into my pocket and thumbed into my phone like it was the most important thing in the world, then my chest clutched with the reminder of why I could never get too close to Dakota.

Why she’d hate me if she knew.

 

Dare: Where the fuck are you? You’re late.

 

Swallowing around the barbs in my throat, I looked up at the woman who stood three feet away shifting on her feet.

Innocent and right and every good thing in this life.

I roughed a hand over the back of my neck, attention on my boots when I said, “I need to get going.”

I felt the weight of her nod. “Yeah, I need to get to my mom’s and pick up Kayden before they get worried.”

I hoisted up her flat tire, opened her trunk, and tossed it in. Dakota came to my side, her presence close to overwhelming as she placed the blanket she’d had on the ground on top of it.

For a second, we hovered in each other’s space. So close but where we could never belong.

Lost to a beat of greed.

The kind I could never give into.

I pushed the button to close the hatch then took a step toward my bike. “Be safe, Dakota.”

Cinnamon eyes watched me like they could see through to my sins. “You, too.”

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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,DON'T FORGET ME TOMORROW, releasing October 5th!

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 newsletterhttps://geni.us/ALJacksonBookClubB or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

Spotlight: The Total Knockout by Cookie O’Gorman

(Southern U O’Brien Brothers, #4)

Publication date: September 28th 2023

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Maisie Hawthorne doesn’t do boyfriends.

Or girlfriends. Or relationships. Burned in the past, the scrappy bartender knows better than to trust a pretty face. Dex O’Brien is gorgeous (with or without the scar). Pierced, tatted, annoyingly attractive. She knew he was trouble even before she saw him fight. Her mind told her to stay away—but her heart wouldn’t listen.

Dex O’Brien doesn’t do love.

Not the romantic kind anyway. Sure, he loves his family, would defend them with his dying breath. And yeah, he loves baseball and fighting too. But falling in love? No thanks. Too messy. Dex couldn’t care less, especially about the bookish bartender with the smart mouth and beautiful eyes.

She needs money to pay the bills. He needs a tutor to keep playing ball—even if he’ll never admit it.

When the Southern U Wolves recruit Maisie to tutor Dex, tempers flare and sparks fly.

This new adult sports romance features two scarred souls, one hot-and-hilarious case of enemies-to-lovers, and a sexy set of brothers guaranteed to make you swoon.

The #1 lesson they’ll both learn?

Love is the total knockout you never see coming.

Excerpt

I was doing a third pass of the crowd, trying to keep my anxiety in check, when I felt a presence behind me.

"Looking for someone?" a deep voice said.

Smooth like silk.

Edged with a hint of sarcasm.

The sound settled over me like a caress. A totally inconvenient caress. I knew who it was. Recognition came quicker than it should have, wasn't like we'd talked a lot. Still, I knew the owner of that voice and decided to ignore him.

Or I tried to.

"No answer, huh? Guess I have to assume you're here to see me."

"In your dreams, O'Brien," I said.

"Nah, in my dreams we're alone, and there aren't as many clothes."

I bit back a laugh. "Nice. You practice that one?"

"Didn't have to. Unlike how you must practice pretending not to like me."

Again, I ignored him.

"Seriously, what're you looking for?" he said.

"None of your business," I replied.

"You just have to ask nicely."

"I don't need your help, O'Brien."

"Suit yourself," he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice, "though I got about a foot on you, shorty. Good luck finding anything in this crowd without me."

The fact that he was right just made me loathe him more.

Begrudgingly, I turned…and found Dex O'Brien staring back at me. Piercing gray eyes. Granite cheekbones. Full lips. The grin was there as predicted, so was his ever-present scar that should've made him less attractive but didn't. Yet another injustice in a world brimming with them.

"Okay, fine," I said and crossed my arms. "Since you offered, I do need your help."

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" he said.

My scowl deepened.

"Thought I must be hearing things." He shrugged, crossing one arm over the other. That's when I noticed the beer he was holding. Of course, he had a drink. Nearly everyone did. He was probably one of those guys who couldn't have a good time without one. "It's not every day the Maisie Hawthorne says she needs me."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Forget it, Dex. Sorry I asked."

His lips stretched into a full-blown smile.

It should've been illegal for someone with Dex's bad boy rep to have a smile that pretty.

"And she used my first name," he said. "Sounds serious."

"Whatever," I muttered. "I should've known better. You wouldn't lift a finger if I was dying in the middle of the street."

He cocked his head. "Depends. What finger and what street?"

Before I could walk away, he placed a hand on my arm. I looked at it, taking in the blood-stained tape wrapped around his knuckles from the fight, then lifted my eyes to his.

"It was a joke, Hawthorne."

Pulling back and rubbing away the warmth his touch left against my skin, I sighed. "I don't have time for your jokes, O'Brien. I lost something important tonight."

"What'd you lose?" he asked.

"My sister," I said miserably.

Dex nodded. "What's she look like?"

"Like a younger, happier version of me, I guess."

"Ah Hawthorne, you're breaking my heart."

"Ha ha."

"So, she's pretty," he said.

I blinked. Did he just…call me pretty? Dex "I hate everything about you" O'Brien? Maybe he got hit in the head one too many times.

Seeing my look of surprise, Dex lifted a brow. "I meant in an uptight, straight-laced, no-fun-ever kind of way. Don't read more into it."

"I wasn't," I lied.

"Sure, you weren't."

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About the Author

Cookie O'Gorman writes YA & NA romance to give readers a taste of happily-ever-after. Small towns, quirky characters, and the awkward yet beautiful moments in life make up her books. Cookie also has a soft spot for nerds and ninjas. Her novels ADORKABLE, NINJA GIRL, The Unbelievable, Inconceivable, Unforeseeable Truth About Ethan Wilder, The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad, WALLFLOWER, CUPCAKE, FAUXMANCE, and BOOKWORM are out now!  She is also the author of NA sports romances, The Best Mistake, The Perfect Play, The Sweetest Game, and The Total Knockout.

Connect:
http://cookieogorman.com/
https://twitter.com/CookieOwrites
https://www.facebook.com/cookieogorman
https://www.bookbub.com/profile/cookie-o-gorman
https://www.instagram.com/cookieogorman/
https://mailchi.mp/bdb1d9c56ae7/the-cookie-jar
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14924267.Cookie_O_Gorman

Spotlight: The Broken Hummingbird by Ann Marie Jackson

IN THE MIDST OF A MARITAL CRISIS, Jane hatches an unusual plan to avoid a custody battle. She convinces husband Kevin to walk away from the pressures of New York—in particular, her demanding job and an affair she almost had—in the hope that moving to their favorite city abroad will fix their family. In San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, Jane and her young sons delight in new adventures, but Kevin seethes. Jane befriends a circle of intriguing women and helps two girls who remind her of the brother she abandoned when her own parents divorced. After witnessing violence involving the girls’ father, Jane’s vivid dreams, possibly guided by a hummingbird messenger from the hereafter, grow ever darker. When tragedy strikes San Miguel, the community fractures and then rises, and Jane must make a dangerous choice. 

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About the Author

Ann Marie Jackson is co-founder of microlending organization Mano Amiga and former Vice President of Casita Linda, which builds homes for families living in extreme poverty in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Early in her career, after earning degrees from Stanford and Harvard, Jackson joined the U.S. Department of State to promote human rights in China and other East Asian and Pacific Island nations. She has worked with Human Rights Watch, A Better Chance, and Internews, among other organizations, to further social justice causes and advance respect for human rights, and has traveled widely on five continents. Her short stories, essays, and articles appear in Mexico News Daily, THIS Top Destinos, San Miguel Life, Solamente en San Miguel, AtenciĂłn San Miguel, and more. “The Broken Hummingbird” is her first novel. A portion of the proceeds from book sales will benefit nonprofit organizations serving women and families in central Mexico. A native of Seattle, Washington, Jackson resides in San Miguel de Allende. Visit her at https://annmariejacksonauthor.com/  

Spotlight: Perfect Together by Carly Phillips

Release Date: September 29

This big-city girl is ready for Serendipity.
But is Serendipity ready for her?

No sane woman breaks off an engagement to an extremely handsome, rich man, right? But Nicole Farnsworth is tired of being the good daughter, and she’s sick of being her fiancé’s arm-candy. So she flees to Serendipity. She can’t think of a better place to find some peace and figure out what comes next.

“Next” shouldn’t include falling for the man who once slapped handcuffs on her wrists—and unwittingly changed her life. But in this small town, fate and fortune make the decisions.

Sam Marsden trusts his instincts as a cop, but when it comes to love? Not so much. Back when he’d mistakenly arrested Nicole, she’d made his jaded heart beat faster and he thought she’d reciprocated. But she returned to her high-society life in NYC and slipped through his fingers. Since then, he’s tried and failed to stop dreaming about the beautiful woman.

Now Nicole is back and it isn’t long before they give in to the attraction that never stopped burning. But when the reason Nicole ran away from home catches up with her, it’ll take every ounce of Sam’s protective instincts to keep her safe.

Buy on Amazon | Audible | Bookshop.org

Meet Carly Phillips:

Carly Phillips is the NY Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of over eighty sexy contemporary romances featuring hot men, strong women, and emotionally compelling stories her readers have come to expect and love. She is happily married to her college sweetheart and lives in Westchester County, NY. She is the mother of two adult daughters and three crazy dogs who star on her Facebook and Instagram pages. She loves social media and is always around to interact with her readers. Way back in 2002, Carly’s book, The Bachelor, was chosen by Kelly Ripa and was the first romance on a nationally televised book club. Carly loves social media and interacting with her readers. For more information on upcoming releases, sign up for her newsletter (below) and receive two free books!

https://www.carlyphillips.com/subscribe-newsletter/

To learn more about Carly Phillips & her books, visit here!

Connect with Carly Phillips: https://www.carlyphillips.com/ 

Spotlight: Twice Upon a Midnight by Anna Harrington

When once upon a time...becomes twice upon a midnight... With a masked ball, evil stepfather, jealous half brother, and unlikely fairy godmother, TWICE UPON A MIDNIGHT is a Cinderella story that readers of Regency romance will love!

Genre: Regency Romance

WHEN ONCE UPON A TIME…BECOMES TWICE UPON A MIDNIGHT

When Lady Elenora Darby returns to London, what better way for her parents to introduce her—and attract suitors—than to throw a masked ball? But Ella prefers poets to peers, and in the dark gardens, she encounters a man she knows nothing about…except that he loves poetry. Before she can learn his name, midnight strikes, and he vanishes, leaving behind only one clue to his identity—a glove embroidered with his initials.

As the Duke of Pensworth’s unwanted stepson, Spenser Rhodes has nothing to do with society…until he meets Ella. He knows they have no future. After all, the daughter of a duke deserves a peer, not a printer. Yet Ella is determined to find her masked man. As her search brings them closer, more than society is keeping them apart—so is Spenser’s half brother Simon, who wants Ella for himself.

With a masked ball, evil stepfather, jealous half brother, and unlikely fairy godmother, TWICE UPON A MIDNIGHT is a Cinderella story that readers of Regency romance will love!

Excerpt

Spenser Rhodes forges an invitation to the Duke of Durham’s ball because he’s tired of being excluded from society. But when he’s found out, he has no choice but to leave—quickly—through the rear gardens, where he runs—literally—into the most alluring woman he’s ever met, one whose soul is as poetic as his and whose identity is just as unknown…

“You are beautiful, Ella,” Spenser murmured and smoothed both his hands over her cheeks until he cupped her face between his palms. “So very special.” He lowered his mouth and murmured against her lips, “You have no idea how much.”

This time when he kissed her, there was no teasing, no hesitation. He captured her mouth possessively beneath his, and when she opened to him, he slid his tongue wickedly inside to claim all of her kiss. Her slender arms snaked up to encircle his neck, and her soft body pressed into his in a silent plea to increase the intimacy of their embrace. He did exactly that by sliding his tongue over hers in wanton encouragement to do the same to him, and when she did, his heart nearly soared out of his chest. 

Until it came crashing down when she whispered, “Spenser…” 

The name she thought was as false as his mask. But he could never tell her his true identity. She would have laughed, and the sound would have simply killed him.

With his eyes screwed shut, he broke the embrace. He rested his forehead against hers while he caught back the breath she’d stolen, while he tamped down his attraction for her which had him wanting to do anything but stop kissing her.

“You need to go back inside now,” he said quietly. And he needed to find his way back to his normal life, one that didn’t include intelligent, beautiful women like Ella. 

She stepped back. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m sure you’re being missed.”

At that dismissal, the wounded look on her face nearly undid him. “Do you regret spending time with me?”

“No.” God no.

“Kissing me, then?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Then why—”

A loud boom reverberated through the park beyond the stone wall beside them, followed by a bright burst of red. Around them, the garden suddenly came to life with showers of sparks arching up in fountains of red and blue flames. Cheers went up from the guests who spilled out onto the terrace and down onto the lawn to watch the display. 

“It’s midnight,” she explained, looking high into the sky as rockets roared overhead to strains of “Rule Britannia” played by the orchestra. Then she gave him a look somewhere between uncertainty and anticipation. “Time to remove our masks.”

Time to pay the piper… He drew a deep breath. “Ella, I need to ex—”

“There! There he is!”

The light of the bursting fireworks had lit the shadows around them and revealed them to the butler and a footman. The angry butler pointed at Spenser, and the footman charged toward him across the garden.

“My lord!” the butler shouted. “I must speak with you regarding your invitation!”

Spenser blew out a low curse. He gave her a last, longing look, then said sadly, “Goodbye, Ella.” 

“Don’t go,” she protested, reaching for his arm. “You can—”

He placed a quick kiss to her lips, then turned and leapt over the wall into the park. He had to leave. Now. The last way he wanted her to remember him was as an uninvited trespasser being dragged out of the party. A fraud. A man led away in disgrace. Or worse—the unwanted stepson of the Duke of Pensworth. 

As he dropped into the darkness beyond the garden wall, he caught a last glimpse of her bending down to pick up his dropped glove.

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About the Author

Anna fell in love with historical romances—and all those dashing Regency heroes—while living in London, where she studied literature and theatre and found herself lost nearly every day. A USA Today best selling author, she loves to travel, fly airplanes, and ballroom dance, and when she isn’t busy writing her next novel, she can usually be found in her garden, fussing over her roses. She loves all things chocolate and coffee, is a terrible cook, and hopes one day to use her oven for something other than shoe storage.

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Spotlight: Head Case by Bonnie Traymore

Genre: Psychological Thriller 

A workplace rivalry. An isolated campus. A tragic death.

Never make a major life decision in the wake of emotional turmoil. Cassie Romano learned this the hard way, leaving sunny San Diego for a teaching position at a private school in the Catskill Mountains in upstate New York after a painful break-up left her heart-broken and in need of a change.

It all seemed so perfect in June when she came to interview. But now it’s December, and she’s stranded on top of a mountain surrounded by snow, ice, and acres of wilderness, lonelier than ever and bored out of her mind.

When a fellow teacher turns up dead and Cassie receives a cryptic letter from her a few days later, it’s clear to Cassie that something strange is going on at Falcon Ridge Academy. Everyone seems to be writing the death off as a tragic accident, but she’s not so sure.

Cassie has secrets of her own, though, so she’s initially reluctant to get involved. Torn between the urge to protect herself and the desire to investigate further, she decides on the latter.

And the consequences could be deadly. 

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Kimi

Kimi knows what the other teachers call her behind her back. She’s heard them before, although she’s pretty sure they don’t know she knows.

Here comes the mole.

It’s not like she signed some formal agreement. And it’s not like she had much of a choice. It had all started pretty innocently. Her boss befriending her and then subtly starting to pump her for information.

Then it became an unstated directive. A quick promotion to English department chair in exchange for some hints about who might be plotting behind the woman’s back. Getting her preferred chaperoning duties in exchange for a few tidbits about who might be holding up her latest initiatives.

And then it became even more complicated.

She wonders how Brooke will take the resignation letter she left in her mailbox yesterday afternoon. It’s a terrible career move to leave now, just two weeks before winter break. But Kimi feels that she doesn’t have much choice.

It’s not just the strained relationship with the other teachers, although that’s part of it. It’s that she’s pretty sure her boss doesn’t know what she overheard, and it needs to stay that way. She’ll go back to North Carolina and regroup, then come back for the rest of her belongings some other time.

As she enters the deserted Cortlandt train station and starts walking towards the tracks, she feels a chill run up her spine. It’s dead still on a frigid Saturday morning. No commuters. Not another passenger in sight. But she has a nagging sensation that she’s not alone.

Is someone following me?

She stops for a moment and turns to look behind her. Nobody’s there. She glances out the window to the parking lot, but the view is obstructed by a thin layer of ice. Then she takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and makes her way over to the staircase that leads down to the train tracks.

The hairs on the back of her neck are standing up, but she reminds herself there’s a good chance she’s overreacting—to all of it. And for a moment, she considers that she might be making the biggest mistake of her entire career.

Too late to second-guess myself now.

When she lifts her foot to start down the stairs, she freezes, reacting a split second too late to the sensation of a presence behind her. In an instant, she’s flying headfirst in the air looking down at the cold, menacing metal stairs.

She closes her eyes and braces herself, incapable of emitting the terrifying scream that’s welling up inside her.

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About the Author 

Bonnie Traymore is an author, educator, and consultant. A world traveler, she loves to include vivid settings in her novels. She is also an accomplished non-fiction writer, historian, and educator with a doctorate in United States History. She has taught at top independent schools in Honolulu, Silicon Valley, and New York City for over 20 years, and she has taught history courses at Columbia University and the University of Hawaii. Originally from the New York City area, she resides in Honolulu with her husband but frequents the Hudson Valley and New York City areas.

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