I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.
If you were a fan of Maxton Hall (which I absolutely was), you will most likely end up loving Save Me! The tv adaptation followed so closely along with the books and I love that for us! I’m excited to read the next book in the series (and not gonna lie the next season of the series as well!).
SYNOPSIS
The first book in the international bestselling Maxton Hall series—now an Amazon Prime streaming series—in English for the first time.
They come from different worlds, and yet they are meant for each other.
Money, glamour, luxury, power—Ruby Bell couldn’t be less interested in these things if she tried. After being awarded a scholarship to one of England’s most prestigious and expensive private schools, Maxton Hall, all she wants is to keep her head down, work hard, and get accepted to Oxford. She keeps her distance from everyone, especially the arrogant, rich, and extremely handsome James Beaufort, ringleader of the school’s party boys.
When Ruby discovers a scandalous secret about the Beauforts, she is suddenly on James’s radar. It only gets worse when James is forced to work with her to plan the school’s annual gala. Yet the more time they spend together, the more they realize they share much more than they thought.
Falling for James Beaufort was never part of her plan, yet Ruby can’t help but let her feelings sweep her away. But James must make a decision for will he choose what’s expected of him, or what he feels for her?
Filled with witty dialogue, espionage, steamy tension centered around Mexican culture – this Victorian romance sounds so entertaining!
SYNOPSIS
When a Mexican heiress defies Victorian society to protect her country a British war hero makes it his new mission to protect her…
Isabel Luna Valdés has long since resigned herself to being the “forgotten” Luna sister. But thanks to familial connections to the Mexican ambassador in London, wallflower Isabel is poised to unearth any British intelligence hidden by the ton that might aid Mexico during the French Occupation. Though she slips easily from crowded ballrooms into libraries and private studies, Isabel’s search is hampered by trysting couples and prowling rogues—including the rakish Captain Sirius Dawson.
As a covert agent for the British Home Office, Sirius makes a game of earning the aristocracy’s confidence. He spends his days befriending foolish politicians and seducing well-born ladies in order to learn their secrets. But after he spies a certain sharp-tongued Luna sister lurking in the shadows where no proper debutante should venture, it’s clear Sirius is outmatched, outwitted, and soon to be outmaneuvered by the one woman he can’t resist.
Their mutual attraction is undeniable, but when Isabel discovers private correspondence that could turn the tide of political turmoil in Mexico, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect her country—even if this means ignoring her heart and courting danger…
EXCERPT
A quick peek into the hall revealed her escape route was clear, so Isabel rearranged her expression to one she hoped reflected eagerness to rejoin the festivities. Not that anyone would notice her absence. Isabel was as invisible as the wallpaper-
A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist the moment she set foot inside the ballroom. Panic clawed up her spine, and out of instinct, Isabel brought her hand up to ram it into the perpetrator’s nose, when a familiar scent wove about her. A stupidly alluring scent she’d know anywhere, for the man it belonged to was also stupidly alluring.
“Snooping again, I suppose.” Captain Sirius Dawson slid his arm around Isabel’s waist while his left hand grasped her right. “After everything, it seems you’ve yet to learn your lesson.”
Isabel bristled . . . because of his accusation or his proximity she didn’t know, for Captain Dawson had an annoying talent of leaving her decidedly off-kilter.
She almost despised him for it.
As he effortlessly spun her into the swirl of dancers, part of Isabel realized that the captain had never danced with her before, thus she’d never been this close to him. Her skin tingled with awareness at every spot he touched. Isabel hated that she was apathetic to most men but that every part of her body seemed to stand at attention whenever this man-with his golden beauty and perceptive azul eyes-appeared.
Willing her muscles to relax, Isabel allowed him to move them to the strains of a Chopin waltz. Feeling gazes pressing upon her-whether Lady Yardley’s or Gabby’s, or possibly one of the scores of Captain Dawson’s admirers-Isabel raised her chin. She’d danced a waltz with any number of gentlemen in the time she’d been in England, but never with him. For all that he was her brother-in-law’s friend, or that Isabel had spent more than a fortnight at Captain Dawson’s country estate, he had seemed to go out of his way to ignore her presence. Being shunned by such a man should not bother her half as much as it did, but her chest went tight whenever she saw him.
The amused look on Captain Dawson’s face now reminded Isabel that he had said . . . something. She was sure it was a scold, because when he did speak to her, he liked to point out her bad behavior. Isabel replayed his words in her mind.
“I don’t know what you mean. I was merely returning from the retiring room when you waylaid me into this waltz.” She arched a brow. “If you wanted to dance with me, you could have asked politely, like everyone else.”
Isabel managed not to cringe through her bluff. Everyone else? Hardly. While her dance card was never empty, for rumors of her fortune had encouraged many a cash-strapped second son to seek out her hand, her reserved nature was not particularly inviting. She’d learned quickly that if she spoke of a novel she’d read or a new scientific discovery she’d heard about, eyes would glaze over and attentions would wander. More often than not, Isabel held her silence during such dances, answering the gentlemen’s questions politely but volunteering nothing else, for truly, what was the point?
But something about the captain always made her speak without thinking. It was a very vexing thing. The captain was very vexing.
His blue eyes bored into her now, his lips a confusing slash between displeasure and amusement. Surely Isabel was reading him wrong and she fought not to squirm. She had always believed her father possessed the most intimidating stare, but she’d been wrong, for nothing made her want to share all her secrets-or confess all her sins-like Captain Dawson’s steely gaze. It was a fortuitous thing, then, that Isabel’s stubbornness was more than up for the challenge.
“I don’t see why you should care about me or what I do when you and I are not friends,” she said archly.
“We aren’t?” The captain’s brows rose. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
Her own brows dipped low over her narrowed eyes. “You did, sir. In all the months since we departed Dancourt Abbey, you’ve not spoken with me once. Nor my sister or Lady Yardley, that I am aware of.”
“Well, that’s not true,” he murmured. “I chatted with Lady Yardley in the park just the other day.”
“How nice for you.” Isabel pinned her gaze on a perfect blond curl near the nape of his neck. “Yet the fact remains that we have never been friendly, Captain Dawson, even while my sisters and I were at Dancourt Abbey that summer. You have never taken any interest in me-” Isabel clamped down on her tongue so hard she tasted copper. She had no intention of hinting at her hurt feelings over his disregard. She never wanted any man to think he could maim her pride. Especially this man.
His chest rose and fell with a sigh, and Captain Dawson shifted his gaze from her face to a spot over her shoulder. “That’s not true. I assured Fox I would keep an eye on you and Miss Gabriela-“
“And I assure you, Capitán, that my sister and I do not need anything from you.”
Isabel did not raise her voice, nor did her tone hint at the anger his indifference had sparked within her. But Captain Dawson seemed to know anyway, for the angular planes of his face softened. Just a tad.
She refused to soften in return. The captain may be her brother-in-law’s close friend, and he may have sheltered her and her sisters from Mexico’s enemies after Ana María and Gideon were wed. But Captain Dawson had shown her time and time again that she was not worth his notice.
Being a wallflower had its benefits, but Isabel was so very tired of being overlooked.
I have been a huge fan of Rosie’s since reading The Roommate a few years ago! Do Your Worst sounds like the perfect autumn romance full of curses, magic and of course romance. I’m excited to pick up this book.
SYNOPSIS
Sparks fly when an occult expert and a disgraced archeologist become rivals with benefits in this steamy opposites-attract romance from “go-to author” Rosie Danan (The New York Times Book Review).
Riley Rhodes finally has the chance to turn her family’s knack for the supernatural into a legitimate business when she’s hired to break the curse on an infamous Scottish castle. Used to working alone in her alienating occupation, she’s pleasantly surprised to meet a handsome stranger upon arrival—until he tries to get her fired.
Fresh off a scandal, Clark Edgeware can’t allow a self-proclaimed “curse breaker” to threaten his last chance for professional redemption (or his traitorous heart). After he fails to get Riley kicked off his excavation site, he vows to avoid her. Unfortunately for him, she vows to get even.
Riley expects the curse to do her dirty work by driving Clark away, but instead, they keep ending up on top of each other. Turns out, the only thing they do better than fight is fool around. If they’re not careful, by the end of all this, more than the castle will end up in ruins.
EXCERPT
While other women inherited a knack for singing or swearing from their grandmothers, Riley Rhodes received a faded leather journal, a few adolescent summers of field training, and the guarantee that she’d die alone.
Okay, fine, maybe that last thing was a slight exaggeration. But a unique talent for vanquishing the occult, passed down from one generation to the next like heirloom china, certainly didn’t make dating any easier. Her matrilineal line’s track record for lasting love was . . . bleak, to say the least.
Curse breaking-the Rhodes family talent-was a mysterious and often misunderstood practice, especially in the modern age. Lack of demand wasn’t the problem. If anything, the world was more cursed than ever. But as the presence of an angry mob in any good folktale will tell you, people fear what they don’t understand.
To be fair, Gran had warned Riley about the inherent hazards of curse breaking out of the gate. There was, of course, the whole physical danger aspect that came part and parcel with facing off against the supernatural. Riley had experienced everything from singed fingertips to the occasional accidental poisoning in the name of her calling.
As for the personal pitfalls? Well, those hurt in a different way.
She’d grown up practicing chants at recess and trying to trade homemade tonics for Twinkies at lunch. Was it any wonder that, through middle school, her only friend had been a kindly art teacher in her late fifties? It wasn’t until tenth grade when her tits came in that guys decided “freaky curse girl” was suddenly code for “performs pagan sex rituals.” Riley had been almost popular for a week-until that rumor withered on the vine.
It was like Gran always said: No one appreciates a curse breaker until they’re cursed.
Since she couldn’t be adored for her talents, Riley figured she could at least get paid. So, at thirty-one years old, she’d vowed to be the first to turn the family hobby into a legitimate business.
Still, no one would call her practical. She’d flown thousands of miles to a tiny village in the Scottish Highlands to risk life and limb facing down an ancient and unknowable power-but hey, at least she’d gotten fifty percent up front.
Hours after landing, strung out on jet lag and new-job nerves, Riley decided the village’s single pub was as good a place as any to start her investigation into the infamous curse on Arden Castle.
The Hare’s Heart had a decent crowd for a Sunday night, considering the total population of the village didn’t break two hundred. Dark wood-paneled walls and a low ceiling covered in crimson wallpaper gave the already small space an extra intimate feel. More like an elderly family member’s living room than the slick, open-concept spots filled with almost as many screens as people that Riley knew all too well back home.
Hopefully after this job put her services on the map she could stop picking up bartending shifts in Fishtown during lean months. For now, her business was still finding its feet. The meager income she managed to bring in from curse breaking remained firmly in the “side hustle” category-though it was still more than anyone else in her family had ever made from their highly specialized skills. Riley had always thought it was kind of funny, in a morbid way, that a family of curse breakers could help everyone but themselves.
Whether out of fear or a sense of self-preservation, Gran had never charged for her practice. In fact, she’d kept curse breaking a secret her whole life, serving only her tiny rural mountain community. As a consequence, she’d never had two nickels to rub together. She and Riley’s mom had weathered a few rough winters without heat, going to bed on lean nights-if not hungry, then certainly not full.
Riley had never faulted her mom for ditching Appalachia and the family mantle in favor of getting her nursing degree in scenic South Jersey. It was only because she’d never been good at anything practical that Riley found herself here in the Highlands, hoping this contract changed more than the number in her bank account.
If word got out that Riley had taken down the notorious curse on Arden Castle, she could go from serving small-time personal clients to big corporate or even government jobs. (She had it on good authority they’d been looking for someone to remove the curse on Area 51 since the seventies).
Perching herself on a faded leather stool at the mahogany bar that divided the pub into two sections, Riley had an excellent vantage point to observe the locals. Up front in the dining room, patrons ranging in age from two to eighty occupied various farm tables brimming with frothing pints and steaming plates.
Filled with magic, the bond of sisterhood and a second chance romance – I am so excited to read this witchy romance – perfect for the fall season ahead!
SYNOPSIS
Legend goes that long ago a Flores woman offended the old gods, and their family was cursed as a result. Now, every woman born to the family has a touch of magic.
Sage Flores has been running from her family—and their “gifts”—ever since her younger sister Sky died. Eight years later, Sage reluctantly returns to her hometown. Like slipping into an old, comforting sweater, Sage takes back her job at Cranberry Rose Company and uses her ability to communicate with plants to discover unusual heritage specimens in the surrounding lands.
What should be a simple task is complicated by her partner in botany sleuthing: Tennessee Reyes. He broke her heart in high school, and she never fully recovered. Working together is reminding her of all their past tender, genuine moments—and new feelings for this mature sexy man are starting to take root in her heart.
With rare plants to find, a dead sister who keeps bringing her coffee, and another sister whose anger fills the sky with lightning, Sage doesn’t have time for romance. But being with Tenn is like standing in the middle of a field on the cusp of a summer thunderstorm—supercharged and inevitable.
In the third installment of The Secret Scientists of London, the ladies of Athena’s retreat are back including widowed Margaret Gault. Margaret has big ambitions – she wants to establish England’s first woman owned engineering firm. But life isn’t always easy for a woman and Margaret runs into many roadblocks including one Earl Grantham.
Margaret and Grantham knew each other once, many years ago. What happened to end their friendship? Will they be able to mend their broken relationship – especially when there are so many forces working against them?
SYNOPOSIS
You couldn’t design a better hero than the very eligible and extremely charming Earl Grantham. Unless, of course, you are Margaret Gault, who wants nothing to do with the man who broke her youthful heart.
Widowed and determined, Margaret Gault has returned to Athena’s Retreat and the welcoming arms of her fellow secret scientists with an ambitious plan in mind: to establish England’s first woman-owned engineering firm. But from the moment she sets foot in London her plans are threatened by greedy investors and–at literally every turn–the irritatingly attractive Earl Grantham, a man she can never forgive.
George Willis, the Earl Grantham, is thrilled that the woman he has loved since childhood has returned to London. Not as thrilling, however, is her decision to undertake an engineering commission from his political archnemesis. When Margaret’s future and Grantham’s parliamentary reforms come into conflict, Grantham must use every ounce of charm he possesses–along with his stunning good looks and flawless physique, of course–to win Margaret over to his cause.
Facing obstacles seemingly too large to dismantle, will Grantham and Margaret remain forever disconnected or can they find a way to bridge their differences, rekindle the passion of their youth, and construct a love built to last?
EXCERPT
A LOVE BY DESIGN by Elizabeth Everett
Berkley Romance Trade Paperback Original | On sale January 17, 2023
Excerpt
Maggie had returned.
Of course, she was now known as Madame Margaret Gault.
Try as he might, Grantham could never twist his tongue around the name.
Almost his whole life, he’d called her Maggie.
His Maggie.
From upside down, he watched as she turned the corner of the carriage house, the wind unfurling the hem of her simple bronze pelisse. A brown capelet hung about her shoulders, and a matching muff hid her hands. Catching sight of him, she paused, tilting her head so he caught a glimpse of lush auburn curls peeking out from beneath her tea-colored bonnet trimmed with bright red berries. Margaret’s fair skin showed no hint of the freckles that had once plagued her every summer, and thick brown lashes shielded her hazel eyes.
She was unusually tall for a woman; nevertheless, she moved with effortless grace, and not even the blazing clash of colors adorning Violet next to her could detract from her beauty.
For she was a beauty, Margaret Gault. Once wild and graceless, she’d bloomed into a woman of elegant refinement.
A woman who was more than met the eye.
A woman who would rather feast on glass than give him the time of day.
For eleven years, the first day of summer meant Margaret would be waiting for him beneath the willow where they first met. She and Violet attended the Yorkshire Academy for the Education of Exceptional Young Women together. While Violet came home to her large, affectionate-and very loud-family, Margaret had no one waiting for her at home. Her father had died of a stroke when she was ten and her mother had little interest in Margaret’s whereabouts or well-being.
Violet and Grantham had been Margaret’s family. The three of them had been the best of friends until one hot afternoon when Margaret had smiled a certain way and the ground went out beneath his feet. A year later he was soldiering in Canada and Margaret lived in Paris and their summers together were nothing but a memory he pulled around himself like a blanket on cold lonely nights.
“Good afternoon, Grantham,” Violet greeted him, seemingly unaffected by his headfirst dive into her rosebushes. She wore a shocking yellow day dress beneath a burgundy velvet paletot and atop her head sat a garish blue bonnet topped with a life-sized stuffed parrot.
Swallowing a barrelful of curses, Grantham tried wriggling out of the bushes, every single thorn piercing his flesh a hundredfold as Margaret stared without saying a word.
“Ahem.” He cleared his throat as he managed to get to his feet despite being trapped in the center of one of the bushes. As he pulled a branch from his hair, a shower of wrinkled brown rose petals drifted down his shoulders. “You are especially . . . vibrant today, Violet. I brought this for Baby Georgie.”
He thrust the torn, dirtied rabbit at Violet, who received it with a bemused air. One of the buttons had come off and the silk was stained green and brown.
“Madame Gault,” he said, bowing to Margaret. “So lovely to see you again.”
No matter how strongly Grantham willed it, Margaret did not speak to him in return. Instead, she bent her knee a scant inch in a desultory curtsey, her lush mouth twisted like the clasp of a coin purse, no doubt to hold inside the names she was calling him in her head. He had a good idea what some of them were, considering he most likely had taught them to her.
Grantham hadn’t seen Margaret for thirteen years until their reunion-if one could call it that-a year and a half ago in the small parlor of Athena’s Retreat. He hadn’t exactly met the moment then, either-although to be fair, there’d been a hedgehog involved. The handful of times he encountered her since, she’d avoided meeting his eyes with her own, as though he were an inconsequential shadow cast by their past.
Someone to be dismissed.
Someone who had broken her heart and whom she would never forgive.
“See who is come to live in England for good.” Violet linked her arm with Margaret’s and beamed at her friend.
This was news.
When Margaret had come to stay at Athena’s Retreat a year and half ago to complete an engineering project for her father-in-law’s firm, Grantham had hoped she’d stay but she returned to Paris after three months. He’d asked Violet if Margaret might ever return, but Violet had doubted it.
“She’s one of the only women engineers in Europe with an excellent reputation. Why give up a dream hard fought to come back to England and fight all over again?” Violet had asked.
Something had changed, however, and now Margaret was home.
His heart leapt in his chest and the bitter orange flavor of hope flooded his mouth.
“Clean yourself up and come inside for tea,” Violet said to him now.
Margaret did not echo the invitation. Instead, she tightened her hold on a stylish carpet bag and accompanied Violet and Arthur into the building.
There are moments in life when the world shifts as though a door has opened somewhere out of sight. Whether a person runs toward that opened door or not depends on how fast they’re stuck in place. Grantham considered for a moment how painful it would be to get himself unstuck.
Although the tangle of branches in front of him twisted menacingly, he pulled a deep breath of resolution into his lungs alongside the scents of rosehips and crushed greenery. Gritting his teeth, he made his way through the thorns toward the open door.
Crazy Rich Asians + Gossip Girl + Devil Wears Parada come together in The Fraud Squad, the debut novel by Kyla Zhao. Samantha Song has longed to write for a high-society magazine, but she doesn’t quite have the clout to write for one…yet. When Samantha gets an opportunity to date the son of one of Singapore’s elite families she sees a chance to get in! She’ll just fake it until she makes it. But the more she fakes it the harder it becomes to stay true to herself. How much of a fraud is Samantha willing to be until she finally achieves her dream? How much of herself is she willing to lose along the way?
SYNOPSIS
A working-class woman who infiltrates Singapore’s high society to fulfill her dreams risks losing everything in the process—including herself—in this propulsive novel by debut author Kyla Zhao.
For as long as she can remember, Samantha Song has dreamed of writing for a high-society magazine—and she’d do anything to get there. But the constant struggle to help her mom make ends meet and her low social status cause her dream to feel like a distant fantasy.
Now Samantha finds herself working at a drab PR firm. Living vicariously through her wealthy coworker and friend, Anya Chen, is the closest she’ll get to her ideal life. Until she meets Timothy Kingston: the disillusioned son of one of Singapore’s elite families—and Samantha’s one chance at infiltrating the high-society world to which she desperately wants to belong.
To Samantha’s surprise, Timothy and Anya both agree to help her make a name for herself on Singapore’s socialite scene. But the borrowed designer clothes and plus-ones to every glamorous event can only get her so far. The rest is on Samantha, and she’s determined to impress the editor in chief of Singapore’s poshest magazine. But the deeper Samantha wades into this fraud, the more she fears being exposed—especially with a mysterious gossip columnist on the prowl for dirt—forcing her to reconcile her pretense with who she really is before she loses it all.
Kristan Higgins newest book – Out of the Clear Blue Sky – is the perfect beach read! Heartwarming and funny, this book follows Lillie, recently divorced after her husband dumps her for another woman. With a grown child now in college, Lillie isn’t quite sure what to do with her life. Soon she’s bonding with people in her life that she never thought she’d get close to. Maybe this isn’t the end of life for Lillie, but rather the start of a new chapter?
SYNOPSIS
From New York Times bestselling author Kristan Higgins comes a funny and surprising new novel about second chances–and why the lies we tell ourselves are the most dangerous.
Lillie Silva knew life as an empty nester would be hard after her only child left for college, but when her husband abruptly dumps her for another woman just as her son leaves, her world comes crashing down. Besides the fact that this announcement is a complete surprise (to say the least), what shocks Lillie most is that she isn’t…heartbroken. She’s furious.
Lillie has loved her life on Cape Cod, but as a mother, wife and nurse-midwife, she’s used to caring for other people…not taking care of herself. Now, alone for the first time in her life, she finds herself going a little rogue. Is it over the top to crash her ex-husband’s wedding, dressed like the angel of death? Sure! Should she release a skunk into his perfect new home? Probably not! But it beats staying home and moping.
She finds an unexpected ally in her glamorous sister, with whom she’s had a tense relationship all these years. And an unexpected babysitter in of all people Ben Hallowell, the driver in a car accident that nearly killed Lillie 20 years ago. And then there’s Ophelia, her ex-husband’s oddly lost niece, who could really use a friend.
It’s the end of Lillie’s life as she knew it. But sometimes the perfect next chapter surprises you…out of the clear blue sky.
When the waitress came to ask if we wanted dessert, Brad said no. “I’ll have the coconut cake,” I said, because speaking of joy . . . Pepe’s had the best coconut cake on earth. “We’ll split it,” I added, since we always did. One of our marital habits—Brad always pretended he didn’t want dessert, then shared mine. Denial.
“No, no. All for you,” Brad said, and for a second, I could’ve sworn he glanced at my midsection. He himself was lean. I was not.
Brad was nursing a second glass of malbec. That was funny . . . I’d never seen him order red wine, not even with steak. He said it gave him headaches, but here he was, sniffing it like he was a bloodhound, swirling it, savoring it. Before I said something snarky, I decided this was the moment.
“Honey, I have something to tell you,” I said. I took a breath and tried to get into the romantic mood. The candlelight made Brad look even more handsome. His blond hair, still fairly full, that WASPy, almost delicate bone structure. His amazing cerulean eyes. He looked younger, the gift of candlelight. I hoped I looked equally beautiful. “It’s pretty exciting.”
“Really? I have something to tell you, too,” he said. “Also exciting. But go ahead.”
I paused for dramatic effect. “We’re going to Europe! I booked us a trip!”
Brad’s face didn’t change. He didn’t smile. He barely blinked.
“Oh,” he said. “Uh . . . when?”
“October seventeenth. Venice, then a train ride up into the Alps for a few days, and then . . . wait for it . . . Paris! Surprise!”
Brad didn’t say anything.
“Honey?” I asked.
“Yes. Um . . . well.”
Not the reaction I was hoping for. Brad loved traveling. “Aren’t you excited?” I asked. “You don’t seem excited.”
He drained his wine. “Actually, Lillie, I . . . uh . . . I was thinking it’s time we . . . divorced.”
“Here’s your coconut cake,” said the waitress, a pretty girl with dark hair. “Two forks, just in case.”
“Thank you!” I said. “Dig in, honey, before I lay waste to this whole thing.”
“This is hard for me,” he said. “It wasn’t an easy decision, but I’m sure.”
“About what?” God. The cake melted in your mouth. Melted.
“Did you hear me? What I just said?”
“Did you hear me? We’re going to Europe!”
He looked away sharply. “No. We’re not. I want a divorce, Lillie. That’s why I took you here. To discuss our future at this natural split in the path.”
I snorted. “Oh, please. We’re not getting divorced.” God, this cake was so good.
“I’m serious. Please listen and don’t infantilize me, Lillie.”
“Brad. Honey. Is this because Dylan’s graduating? It’s normal to feel blue. But we’re happy. Not like everyone else.” There had been a rash of divorces among our crowd lately, and suddenly my skin felt a little too tight. “We’ve been talking about how fun being empty nesters will be.” Hadn’t we? No, we had. Just not recently.
“I’ve met someone.”
“You know, this trip is going to be perfect,” I said. “Change of scenery, new places, new food, different languages all around us. You can practice your French! Our son is going to college in Montana, and we’ve both been melancholy. I’ve looked at so many pictures of Venice, I already feel better.”
Wait . . . what was that he’d just said? It wasn’t about Europe. I felt a flush starting in my chest, creeping up my neck.
I took a sip of water. Glanced around the restaurant.
“Lillie?” Brad said.
“We’re going to Europe,” I said again, more loudly this time. “We deserve it.”
“Are you even listening to me?” he said.
“Are you listening to me?” I snapped. “We’re not getting a divorce! Are you crazy?” Heads were starting to turn. I lowered my voice. “Look. I don’t think . . . you didn’t mean what you said, honey. I know it’s a strange time, and it’s natural to do some soul-searching, but we’re in this together. It’s going to be great! We’ve been talking about all the things we want to do.” I smiled. Yeah. Keep smiling, Lillie. “And we will do them.” That last line came out as a command.
He didn’t look at me. “I haven’t been happy in some time, and . . . well, as I just said, I’m in love.”
There was a buzzing sound in my ears. “No you aren’t.”
“Lately, I just feel dead inside.”
“No you haven’t. This is idiotic.”
“I’m sorry if this hurts you,” he said, “but I’m sure.”
Suddenly, my plate was in my hands, and I was squishing the coconut cake on his head. “How dare you, Brad Fairchild! How dare you!”
When Kian gets a text message from ex-boyfriend Hudson, he’s not quite sure what to expect. He definitely does not expect for Hudson to ask Kian to be his fake date to Georgia’s wedding of the season. Soon their fake dating starts to feel all too real – will they keep up the charade or move to make their relationship real? Really looking forward to reading this fake dating/second chance romance!
SYNOPSIS
It’s been months since aspiring journalist Kian Andrews has heard from his ex-boyfriend, Hudson Rivers, but an urgent text has them meeting at a café. Maybe Hudson wants to profusely apologize for the breakup. Or confess his undying love. . . But no, Hudson has a favor to ask–he wants Kian to pretend to be his boyfriend while his parents are in town, and Kian reluctantly agrees.
The dinner doesn’t go exactly as planned, and suddenly Kian is Hudson’s plus one to Georgia’s wedding of the season. Hudson comes from a wealthy family where reputation is everything, and he really can’t afford another mistake. If Kian goes, he’ll help Hudson preserve appearances and get the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the biggest names in media. This could be the big career break Kian needs.
But their fake relationship is starting to feel like it might be more than a means to an end, and it’s time for both men to fact-check their feelings.
EXCERPT
I’M SO (NOT) OVER YOU by Kosoko Jackson
Berkley Trade Paperback Original | On sale February 22, 2022
Excerpt
Chapter One
The first rule, and only rule, of getting over your ex is not to answer your ex’s messages. This can be done in many different ways, depending on the person.
One, change his contact to read: DO NOT ANSWER.
Two, block his number.
Three, glue a horrible weave to your scalp, so you look and act like a completely different person.
Four, restart your life as the owner of a mom-and-pop shop in rural Indiana and call it a day. That’s one I’m particularly partial to.
All of those are good and valid options. Do what you need to do-no judgment.
And yet, somehow I found a way to break this simple rule. Not just break it, burst it wide open. Shatter it, if you will.
Because it’s one thing to open a text and answer it, but it’s another to decide to follow through with your ex’s request.
Look up Bad Idea on Google, and our helpful search engine will bring up, Did you mean: Kian Andrews’s choices whenever they involve Hudson Rivers?
My phone in my pocket vibrates once. My heart skips a beat. Maybe Hudson will cancel. Or maybe he’ll realize the past three months apart have been a mistake and he’s going to confess he’s still madly in love with me? Maybe . . .
Nope, just Divya.
DIVYA EVANS: Let the record show this is a horrible idea.
“Of course you’d say that,” I mutter, forgetting she can’t, you know, hear me. And she may be right, but that’s not the point.
When I got the text from Hudson a week ago, asking me to meet him at the Watering Hole, Divya was not amused. She scrunched her nose, like she tasted something rancid in the air, which wasn’t entirely off.
Because to her, that’s exactly what my relationship with Hudson was: rancid. Which, sure, everyone says that about their ex because it makes them feel better.
KIAN ANDREWS: You’ve said that-multiple times.
DIVYA EVANS: And yet, you still refuse to listen. Remind me, who is getting their law degree from Harvard?
KIAN ANDREWS: Wow . . . we went . . . 12 hours without you bringing up your Harvard degree. That’s a new record!
DIVYA EVANS: But seriously, K. This is a bad idea. Closure is not as good as you think it is.
As a lawyer-in-training, she should understand why I need to meet with Hudson: to process what happened, to close that chapter of my life, and to seal it shut with a glue made of truth. The memory of us breaking up is an open wound that never healed. It was a volatile separation, ending with me blocking him on every social media account possible and drinking myself into a stupor that made the two weeks after the breakup a blur.
Maybe that’s why Divya’s a prosecutor and not a defense attorney.
Another vibration, another text.
DIVYA EVANS: I’m only a few blocks away if you need me.
KIAN ANDREWS: What are the chances of that happening?
Pretty high, if I’m being honest. Divya has always been my rock, no matter what. Whether keeping me from embarrassing myself when I started crying in the club two weeks after my breakup, making sure I got my worthless self out of bed so I didn’t lose my partial scholarship, or even finding some men with absolute dump-truck asses to help me get over my head-over-heels obsession with Hudson, Divya has been that ride-or-die friend for me.
So it’s reasonable to assume that when I’m about to go through another major, traumatizing Hudson experience, Divya Evans is the big guns I have on speed dial. What’s that expression? Behind every great gay guy, there’s a badass woman?
Again, my phone pings. I pull it out of my pocket without looking, expecting another (well-deserved) quippy barb from Divya. But instead, an e-mail stares back at me.
I stare at the screen for so long, the colorful background of one of the many lighthouses on the North Carolina coast. I want to savor this moment. Hold on to it, keep it in its box, and put it on the top shelf somewhere out of the way. When I’m a famous journalist, with sources sliding into my DMs, begging me to write Pulitzer-winning stories, and I’m giving a guest lecture at Northeastern, they’ll ask me, How did you get started in this competitive, cutthroat business?
And I’ll say, I got my first job at Spotlight. Will Spotlight be around twelve years from now? Probably not. News websites cannibalize themselves like bacteria. But it’s the hottest place to work in journalism right now. Getting an Investigative Journalism Fellowship here would change my life. It’s like . . . do not pass Go; instead, get Park Place on your second turn.
I tap the screen, bringing it back to life. Still, the e-mail alert taunts me. Maybe it’s an interview request? Maybe my pitch on the lack of education programs in Appalachia and how it’s setting students back several grade levels that I spent all last week making really did impress them, and they are going to offer me a position sight unseen. That’s not unreasonable. It happens to white guys all the time. And I have good-no, fucking great credentials.
Like Divya says, they would be lucky to have me.
But at the same time, as my journalism professor said, Journalists are a dime a dozen. Why should they pick you over anyone else?
Which takes us back to Divya Evans, and her exact words: You’re a goddamn star, Kian Andrews.
I wish I had the same level of confidence as her. I do a good job faking it when I’m around her, at least I think I do. But now? Alone in this cafŽ? Doing something stupid like waiting for the boy who broke my heart-who is now seven minutes late-and staring at the e-mail that could change my career? That confident facade is pushed far back into the closet; a place I haven’t been since middle school.
And I promised I’d never go back there again.
Without overthinking it, I tap on the screen one more time, and then enter my passcode before I can change my mind. One more tap, and the e-mail fills the screen.
Dear Mr. Andrews,
Thank you for your application for the Investigative Journalism Fellowship at Spotlight’s Boston branch. At this time, we’ve decided-
“Shit.”
There’s no need to read any more. I could do a CTRL-F in my inbox, search for “we’ve decided,” and bring up more than a dozen results. This is no different, despite how badly I want it to be different.
I’m halfway through a text to Divya, informing her about the rejection from Spotlight, which will undoubtedly result in her replying with drinks on me tonight, when a baritone clearing of a throat behind me causes my fingers to stop. The deep voice cuts through the low sensual tones of the Esperanza Spalding cover artist serenading us in the Watering Hole, even if it is as out of place as a Black guy in Boston-aka Me.
But the voice is unmistakable. Even after a year of avoiding everything related to Hudson, the way he speaks effortlessly from the depths of his diaphragm still sends shivers down my spine. And the way his boyish grin plays off his chiseled jaw makes me want to melt.
“Kian?”
I do my best to turn slowly. Eagerness isn’t a good look on anyone, especially around your ex when you’re trying to act like you’ve moved on and are living your best single twentysomething life.
But my God does he look nice.
No, not nice.
Hot.
“Hey,” he says while smirking. “Thanks for coming.”
Opposites attract in this small town charming romance. Crazy About a Cowboy is sure to be a swoony romance!
SYNOPSIS
Local cowboy Jasper Taylor has to decide if it’s more important to help his hometown of Ido, Texas win a contest or for him to win the heart of the woman he loves.
The little town of Ido, Texas, is up against some big competition. With the state tourism department on a search for the most romantic town in Texas, Ido is pulling out all the stops to win the title. Leading the effort is the newly appointed hospitality host Jasper Taylor. If he can secure the honor for Ido, he’ll be able to hang onto his family’s land.
But when the reigning Miss Lovin’ Texas and celebrity judge, Delilah Stone, rolls into town, she isn’t exactly welcomed with open arms. Delilah’s ready to put her beauty queen days behind her, and the only thing standing in her way is spending the next thirty days in Ido. It should be an easy gig, but someone in town is tired of all of the recent publicity. Somehow everything that ought to go right is suddenly going wrong.
Now it’s up to Jasper to convince Delilah to give Ido another chance by showing her just how romantic the small town can be…without losing his own heart in the process.
EXCERPT
Jasper ran his palms over his denim-clad thighs. Delilah Stone had been in town for less than five minutes and he’d already screwed up. How the hell would he explain to his dad that he’d managed to ruin Ido’s run for the title before the judge even made it up the steps of city hall?
“What in the world happened?” Lacey entered her office, her cheeks flushed.
He jumped to his feet. “I don’t know. I was cleaning the pigeon shit off the sidewalk and all of a sudden there she was.”
“You didn’t hear her? See her heading your way?”
Jasper shook his head. “I came around the corner and before I knew what was happening she was soaked through.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll fix this.” Lacey crossed her arms over her chest, her mouth set in a determined line.
“Me?” His stomach dipped. “How do you expect me to do that?”
“I need a hospitality host, and you owe me.”
“Wait a sec. I said I was sorry and I meant it. But I don’t think—”
The office door creaked open. Delilah Stone entered. She’d changed into dry clothes, but her hair still hung in damp curls, framing her heart-shaped face. He’d expected the beauty queen to be, well, beautiful. But beautiful was too dull a word to do justice to the gorgeous woman who’d just entered the mayor’s office.
Lacey rounded the desk and moved toward the door. “Ms. Stone, welcome.”
Jasper rose to his full height and drew in a breath. Then he forced what he hoped looked like a reassuring grin and turned it on Miss Lovin’ Texas herself.
She might have been drenched from head to toe a few minutes ago, but she handled herself with the composure of a queen. Her spine ramrod straight, her face scrubbed free of any trace of makeup, she entered the office like she owned the place.
“We’re thrilled to be hosting you as part of the Most Romantic Small Town in Texas competition.” Lacey glanced toward him and he braced himself for the inevitable introduction. “I’d like you to meet Jasper Taylor, our hospitality host. He’ll be your main point of contact while you’re here in town.”
Jasper shot a look to Lacey, who lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. Great. He didn’t want to undermine the mayor, even if she’d made an incorrect assumption that he’d changed his mind about taking on the role. He’d let it go for now. But once Ms. Stone left the office, he’d have to set Lacey straight.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Stone. I’m sorry about getting you all wet. Although I’ve gotta say, you look just as pretty soaked right through as you did when you won your title.” He had to give major props to the beauty queen, she didn’t flinch as she slid her hand against his.
Delilah glanced over to Lacey. What the heck was wrong with him? Based on how he was handling his interaction with Delilah, she’d probably never believe he actually held a degree in business and had aced his professional communications courses. For some reason his tongue seemed to get all hog-tied when facing the woman with the smoky green eyes who held the fate of Ido in her soft, delicate hands.
She slipped her fingers out of his grip and followed Lacey toward the desk. “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Taylor.”
“Oh, you can call me Jasper.”
“It’s my pleasure then, Jasper.” The tight smile she gave him held more than a hint of frustration, making him think she’d rather slap him than have to rely on him for anything during her time in Ido. She probably thought Lacey was crazy for putting her trust in him. At least they were on the same page with regard to that.
Feuding Alaskan families, a forbidden romance and cute huskies – Heart on a Leash sounds like the perfect romance!
SYNOPSIS
A pack of rescue huskies inspires love and romance in a coastal Alaskan town fractured by feuding families–but can young pups really teach frozen hearts new tricks?
Taylor Lipin has made it her life’s mission to leave her hometown and its ridiculous, century-old feud with the Porters behind. But when her sister needs help running the family inn, Taylor agrees to return to Helen, Alaska on a temporary, definitely not longer than two weeks, basis. Or so she thinks, until she’s quite literally swept off her feet and into enemy territory by three happy huskies and their drool-worthy owner, Dr. Josh Krane.
Though Josh didn’t grow up in Helen with the rest of his Porter cousins, he’s heard the stories: Porters rescue huskies. The Lipins are cat people. Keep to your pack. But Taylor is too tempting to give up–plus, his dogs love her.
As Taylor and Josh grow closer, tensions in the town escalate and the need for secrecy starts taking a toll. Soon they’ll need to decide whether their newfound love is just a summer fling or if they’ve found their forever home.
EXCERPT
Ever since she was little, Taylor had been determined that-in her six-year-old self’s words-she was going to be a “business lady.” Little Taylor had devoted countless hours to making her Barbie dolls into perfect “business ladies,” which had mainly meant they wore stylish clothes, worked in tall buildings, and bossed people around. Her understanding had expanded as she grew older, but her desire to leave home and work someplace with tall buildings and stylish clothes had not. Taylor had taken off to Southern California for college and never turned back.
It was true that sometimes she wondered if she was still chasing an ephemeral ideal, because working in marketing had not lived up to her childhood expectations. And it was also true that sometimes, more frequently in recent years, she’d started wondering if she should have left childhood ideals in childhood and chosen a field that didn’t make her feel like her soul was being crushed on a daily basis.
But it was just as true that returning home and working at the inn remained on her list of Things to Consider Only before Selling Off Internal Organs. But even then, it might depend on which organ. No one needed two kidneys.
Lydia was still speaking, and Taylor caught the end of her last sentence. “. . . to help shut down the gossip too.”
“What gossip?”
“The usual. Mostly people speculating about affairs and garbage like that. All instigated by the Porters, I’m sure.”
Taylor snorted. Possibly living so long in L.A. had changed her perception about such things. “Can anyone back home actually have an affair without everyone else knowing about it?”
“Dan Fidel, the high school principal, carried on with a third-grade teacher for two years before his wife found out. So yes. But that’s not the point. The Porters are spreading lies, and rumor is Wallace is considering running against Dad for mayor. They’ve been looking for ways to cut us down since the article. We can’t afford to let them see us struggle. This is about family, however fractured we currently are.”
With her free hand, Taylor poked at the foam on her coffee. Sure, it was only eight in the morning, but she might need something stronger to drink if this was turning into a Lipin-Porter battle on top of a regular family disaster. Unfortunately, she could easily believe the Porters would try to take advantage of her family’s situation. After the Bay Song’s write-up, they’d started a whisper campaign that the hotel had only gotten such a glowing recommendation because her family had bribed the writer. Or, depending on which Porter was talking, because Lydia had slept with the guy.
It was easy for Taylor to roll her eyes from the California coast, but back home, the nastiness was something her family had to deal with on a daily basis. It was also another reason Taylor had been eager to leave.
The coffee shop’s door opened, and this time Stacy entered, along with a whiff of exhaust from the delivery truck idling outside. Her friend waved and began worming her way through the crowd.
“We can talk more about this later,” Taylor said. “I need to go.”
“Fine. Will you think about what I said? Please.”
“Promise.” It was an easy one to make. Taylor doubted she could do anything else.
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