Want a Signed Paperback or Promise Me Always Release Box? PRE-ORDER HERE
Can’t wait for the release? Be sure to vote for PROMISE ME ALWAYS as one of your most anticipated January reads on Goodreads!Vote Here
Connect with A.L.
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, PROMISE ME ALWAYS, releasing January 30th!
If sheâs not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter https://geni.us/ALJacksonBookClubB or text âaljacksonâ to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.
I shook my head. âNo, here with me at this moment. You must have plenty of other things you could be doing right now that are more fun than listening to my drivel.â
âMaybe I like drivel.â
I snort-laughed. âNo one likes drivel.â
He smiled, and his eyes dropped to my lips for a fraction of a second. âMaybe I like you.â
I shifted in my seat to face him. âWhy?â
Christian shrugged again. âI donât know. I think youâre interesting.â
My eyes narrowed. âWhat about me is interesting?â
âYouâre a billionaire who lives in a rent-controlled apartment over a fruit stand and tried to give the team you inherited to your grandfather. Whatâs not interesting about you? Given your situation, most people I know would live in a penthouse by now and take car services, not walk twenty minutes to the stadium every day after getting off the train.â
I raised an eyebrow, and a grin spread across Christianâs face.
âPlus, youâre hot.â
That last part made me smile. âAnd technically, Iâm your boss.â
His grin widened. âThat makes you even hotter.â
I chuckled. âTell me about yourself, Christian. I feel like you know so much about me, but I donât know anything about you, other than your stats, of course.â
âWhat do you want to know?â
âDo you have a girlfriend?â
âYou think Iâm hot too, donât you?â
I laughed. âJust answer the question, Knox. Something tells me your ego gets stroked enough.â
âYes, maâam.â He shook his head. âNo girlfriend.â
I tapped my lip with my pointer. âWhat do you do in the offseason?â
âRecover. Let my body heal. Sleep. Fish. I have a cabin on a lake up in Maine. Spend time with friends. Travel. Keep up with my training.â
âThat sounds soâŠnormal.â
âThe season is anything but normal when you play in the NFL. Itâs tough on the body and mind. Youâre on the road all the time, the media follows your ass around, women hand you underwear with their numbers written on them and sneak into your hotel room. So normal is good.â
My face wrinkled. âWomen give you their underwear?â
Christian smiled. âAny other questions?â
âAm I demented if Iâm curious to know whether the underwear are clean or not?â
He laughed. âMaybe. But I like the way you think.â
Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Viâs new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-six languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria, and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
Excited about Penelope Ward & Vi Keelandâs upcoming release, The Rules of Dating?
Check out this SNEAK PEEK!
Crash!
Shit. Billie and I looked at each other. A devilish smirk spread across her faceâŠand then she turned and bolted.
I looked around. The coast seemed clear, so I ran as fast as I could while pushing a heaping cart full of crap. For the last hour and a half, Billie had been picking things out and holding them up to show me. If I agreed, she chucked them over her shoulder for me to catch with the cart. Iâd been zigging and zagging, trying to scoop up all the merchandise she threw as I followed her aroundâboth of us laughing like school kids the entire time. That is, until I missed that last toss and a glass bowl shattered on the floor.
IKEA was a giant maze, and both of us kept running, turning left and then right, until we finally arrived in the warehouse portion of the store, which was right before the checkout line. Billie leaned over with her hands on her knees, huffing and puffing.
âI think weâre in the clear,â she said.
âPretty sure I wouldâve rather paid for the twelve-dollar bowl than make a run for it. This cart is so full, it almost tipped like ten times.â
She laughed. âDid we get everything we need?â
âIâm not sure. But we definitely bought a lot of shit we donât need. Like I think we could have done without the motorized ice cream cone spinners. The tenant can lick their own ice cream.â
Billie grinned. âThose are for me and Saylor. They light up, too!â
I snorted. âCome on, letâs check out before Iâm completely broke.â
While we loaded everything onto the conveyor belt, I lifted my chin toward the in-store restaurant located just after the cashier stations. âYou still up for meatballs?â
âUhâŠhello? Itâs the only reason I came.â
I clutched my hand over my heart. âOww, that hurts. And here I thought you came for the company.â
After we were all checked out, I wheeled the cart over to a table for two in the corner of the restaurant. âWhy donât you stay here with the stuff, and Iâll go get us some meatballs.â
âOkay. But can you get me a drink, too, please? Iâm so thirsty.â
When I came back, I set two big plates of meatballs on the table.
âDid you forget the drinks?â Billie asked.
I grinned and lifted a finger. âActually, I didnât. I brought them.â My gym bag from earlier had been lying on the bottom shelf underneath the cart since we walked in. Taking it out, I unzipped and started to unpack. âWine, madame?â I held a bottle of merlot over one arm, showing the label like a maĂźtre dâ.
Billie cracked up. âYou brought wine with you? I thought it was strange when you took your duffle bag into the store. But I figured maybe your wallet was in it and stuff.â
I shrugged. âWhat choice did I have? You wonât go out with me, so I have to make the best out of our undate at IKEA.â I unloaded two plastic wine glasses, white cloth napkins, and a candleholder with a red candle.
Billie picked up the candle and examined it before raising a brow. âA winter village scene?â
I shrugged. âTheyâre Christmas candles. I only had an hour to get out of the house with a four-year-old. Donât judge.â
The looks we got from the people around us as we ate meatballs by candlelight were pretty comical. I was also pretty sure it was against the rules to have an open flame in IKEA, let alone an open bottle of wine, but evidently the people behind the counter hadnât read the employee rule book to be certain. Either way, the smile on Billieâs face made it all worthwhile. After we were done eating, I blew out the candle and started to pack up.
âYou knowâŠâ Billie shook her head. âI think you just snuck a date into our undate.â
I shoved the cork back into the top of the wine bottle and zippered it into my duffle. âI did not.â
She squinted at me. âIâm pretty sure you did. Whatâs the difference between what we just did and a date? We shared a candlelight meal with wine and cloth napkins.â
I leaned down and whispered in her ear. âThe difference is, you donât get to come at the end.â
When I pulled back, Billieâs jaw was hanging open. I freaking loved that she looked so affected. She swallowed. âIs that the way all your dates end?â
I shook my head back and forth slowly. âNo, but itâs damn straight the way ours would.â
It all started when I hosted a little party for a bunch of new friends.
Though âfriendsâ might not be the right word since the invitees were all the women Iâd found out my boyfriend was talking to behind my back. When the guest of honor walked inâaka my now exâthings took a turnâŠ
Unfortunately, a stranger witnessed the whole blowout. I was in a mood that night and ended up giving this gorgeous guy an attitude, too. As if my night could get any worse, before he stormed off, he informed me he was actually my landlord.
Colby Lennon, along with three of his friends, owned the building where my tattoo shop was located. He and I were total opposites. He wore a tie, oozed confidence that came with years of women falling at his feet, and wasnât afraid to say what he wanted, which latelyâwas me.
I hated that I found myself attracted to him. Especially since I was supposed to be on a self-imposed dating hiatus. Yet the two of us couldnât seem to stay away from each other. We started hanging out, as friends. I even went as far as making rules for what heâd dubbed our âundates.â
But eventually, our explosive attraction became too much to bear, and we broke our resolve. I let my guard down and started to really fall for Colby.
Nothing could have prepared me for the ride he took me on. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for where I’d wind up when the ride was over.
All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.
PENELOPE WARD
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
Vi Keeland is a #1âŻNew York Times, #1âŻWall Street Journal, andâŻUSA TodayâŻBestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-seven languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
Check out this SNEAK PEEK and meet Merrick and Evie!
Merrick
âMr. Crawford?â My assistant, Andrea, poked her head into my office while I was eating lunch with Will. âSorry to interrupt, but HR asked me to find out if you might have time to talk with one of the candidates for the in-house therapist position?â
I shook my head. âI donât need to talk to the applicants. I already gave my input to Joan. HR is holding second-round interviews and will let me know what they think when theyâre done.â
âApparently one of the candidates asked if she could have a minute with you after her appointment with HR. But her meeting is starting now, and I know you donât like anything on your schedule during trading hours.â
âWhich candidate?â
âEvie Vaughn.â
I leaned back in my chair with a chuckle. âSure. Why not?â
She nodded. âIâll let her know.â
Will lifted his chin after Andrea shut the door. âWhat was that little grin about?â
âOne of the candidates for the stress therapist job is interesting, to say the least.â
âIn what way?â
âHer first-interview appointment wasnât until five one day last week, so when the market closed, I ran downstairs to Paloma to pick up a suit Iâd bought and had tailored. After I left the store, I thought Iâd forgotten my cell phone in the fitting room, so I went back to check. When I opened the door, I walked in on a woman.â
âI hate those places that have one fitting room for both men and women.â
âActually, this place has separate ones. The woman was just in the menâs room. But thatâs not the best part. When I walked in, she was half undressedâŠand smelling her armpit.â
Willâs brows shot up. âCome again?â
âYou heard me right. Anyway, a few minutes later, my five oâclock appointment walks in, and itâs her. The woman from the fitting room.â
âThe pit sniffer? Get the hell out of here. What did you do?â
âNothing. I played it off like I didnât recognize her, though she definitely recognized me. I could see her squirming.â
âShit like this only happens to you, my friend. So what went down? How did the interview go?â
âYet sheâs back here today for a second interview?â
âShe is, indeed.â
Will shook his head. âWhat am I missing?â
âWhen I got home that night, I started thinking about how the board is shoving this position down my throat. They mandated that I hire someone, not that the person be competent.â
Will smiled. âGenius.â
I shook my head. âI need my people to be focused and ruthless while theyâre hereânot getting in touch with their emotions.â
âI hear you.â
As we finished lunch, Andrea returned and knocked. Evie Vaughn stood right behind her. Her wavy blond hair was up today, and she wore a simple black skirt and jacket with a red blouse underneath, giving her the sexy-librarian look every male fantasizes about at least once in his life. I tried to ignore the stir seeing her caused in me and forced my gaze down.
Andrea peeked her head in the door. âDo you need more time?â
I looked at Will. âWe need to discuss anything else?â
He shook his head. âNot that I can think of. Iâll get the Endicott buy order placed as soon as it hits forty a share.â
âGood.â I turned my attention to Andrea. âPlease show Ms. Vaughn in.â
Will left, tossing me a smirk over his shoulder as he passed Evie.
When the door shut, she took a few steps forward, then hesitated. âThank you for seeing me.â
I nodded and gestured to the guest chairs on the other side of my desk. âHave a seat.â
âYour assistant mentioned you donât usually take appointments while the market is open.â
âI donât.â Leaning back, I tented my fingers. âWhat can I do for you, Ms. Vaughn?â
âItâs Evie, please. AndâŠwell, I was hoping you could clear something up for me.â
âWhat would that be?â
âWhy am I here? For a second interview, I mean. You made it pretty clear during the first one that you didnât think I had the right experience for the position, and I didnât exactly make a winning first impression in that fitting room. SoâŠwhy am I here again?â
I folded my arms across my chest and deliberated how to answer. The politically correct and professional response wouldâve been to say Iâd reconsidered based on how sheâd handled herself during the interview. But Iâd never been accused of being politically correct or professional.
âAre you sure you want the real answer? Sometimes itâs better not to know and just accept the outcome.â
She folded her arms across her chest, mimicking my posture. âMaybe, but Iâd like to know anyway.â
I liked her spunk. It was a challenge to keep myself from smiling. âYou were invited back because you are the least qualified of all of the people we interviewed.â
Her face fell, and I felt a tinge of guilt, even though sheâd said she wanted the truth.
âWhy would you do that?â
âBecause hiring an in-house stress coach wasnât my idea. My board of directors is forcing my hand.â
âIs it a problem because it wasnât your idea?â
âI employ a hundred-and-twenty-five people whose jobs are to give me ideas.â I shook my head. âNo, I donât have an authority issue, Ms. Vaughn.â
She pursed her lips. âDoctorâitâs Doctor Vaughn. I prefer to be called Evie, but if you insist on using formal etiquette, you might as well use my proper title. I hold a PhD in clinical psychology.â
I couldnât hold back the smile that time. I nodded. âFine. No, I donât have authority issues, Doctor Vaughn.â
âSo youâre against the position, in general, and you wanted to hire the worst person to prove a point?â
I nodded once. âYou could say that.â
âAre you against therapy?â
âI believe some people can benefit from therapy.â
âSome people? But not your employees? Do you believe your employees donât have any stress in the workplace?â
âThis is Wall Street, Ms.âDoctor Vaughn. If it werenât a stressful job, my average trader wouldnât earn seven figures. I just prefer my people to be focused while theyâre here in the office.â
âDid you ever consider that you might be looking at things backward? Taking an hour out of the day to speak to someone isnât whatâs interrupting a stressed-out personâs focus. Theyâre already not focused because of their stress level. Therapy could help center someone so they can concentrate better.â
âNoted that thereâs more than one way to look at things.â I studied her for a moment. âIs there anything else you wanted to ask? Or have we reached the point in the discussion where you tell me you hope we never see each other again?â
She smiled shyly. âIâm sorry about that. It wasnât an appropriate thing to say.â
I shrugged. âItâs fine. Believe it or not, Iâve been accused of being inappropriate a time or two myself.â
She laughed as she stood. âGee, I never would have guessed that from the man who sniffed me during my interview.â Evie held out her hand. âThank you for your time. And your honesty.â
Do you like texts better than email? Receive text notices of Viâs new releases by texting the word BOOKS to 77948 You will ONLY receive a text when a new book goes live – no other messages at all!
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-seven languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
The peace they both crave theyâll find in each other.
Hidden Waters, an all-new emotional, roommates and friends to lovers, small-town romance from bestselling author Catherine Cowles is coming June 21st, and we have your first look!
Prologue
Addie
PAST
âCecily!â My fatherâs voice bellowed through our ranch house. I swore the force of his words shook the beam above our heads.
Mom pulled her hands from the dough she was kneading and wiped them on her apron. âScamper, Little Mouse.â
The familiar code made my stomach cramp and palms dampen. How many times had she drilled it into my head? âScamper, Little Mouse. Find a nook to hide, just like a tiny mouse would.â
I bit my lip, shaking my head. âI want to stay with you.â
âCecily! Where are you?â
âIâm in the kitchen, Allen. Just making your favorite biscuits for dinner.â She pushed me towards the back door, her hands warm and soothing but forceful. âGo, Little Mouse.â
I opened my mouth to try another argument, but her sharp look had me snapping it shut. The door closed quietly behind me. Mom knew better than to advertise that someone had made an escape.
I stepped to the side of the door and pressed my back to the siding of the house. I held my breath as I waited. Dadâs footsteps pounded against the floor. I watched the back step tremble with the force of them as though we were having our own little earthquake. One that only reached our house.
âJohn said you left today. Without me.â
I knew the words came through gritted teeth. I could picture my dadâthe set of his jaw, the clench of his fists. The red that crept up the back of his neck.
âWe were out of baking soda, and I knew you wanted biscuits with dinner. You were out all day. So, I took Addie into town with me.â Momâs voice was soft, but it didnât waver.
âAdaline should be home like her mother. She needs to learn how to tend this house so sheâll make a good wife one day. But I canât imagine thatâs possible with you teaching her.â
I pressed my hands harder into the wood of the house, splintered pieces embedding in my palms. I fought the urge to run inside. To tell him to shut up. It would only make things worse.
âI wanted to make sure you had what you wanted for dinner.â Momâs voice sounded defeated, almost as if sheâd given up.
âThen you shouldâve planned ahead. Checked our pantry before I took you to the store on Sunday.â
âIâm sorry, Allen.â
There was silence for a moment, and I could picture Dad staring at her. Sometimes, he prowled around her like a jungle cat, looking for any signs of weakness.
âTell me the truth. Were you going to meet a man?â
Mom let out a small gasp. âNo. I would never. You know that.â
âLies. I see the way you flirt with the ranch hands.â
I went up on my tiptoes, craning my head to get a glimpse inside. My stomach knotted as I took them in. Dad had grabbed Mom by the collar of her dress, pushing her against the refrigerator.
âI donât. I would never disrespect you that way.â
âBullshit.â He hauled back, slapping her so hard she crumpled to the floor.
A small sound escaped my lips, a panicked, keening noise. Dadâs head snapped around as he looked for the source of the sound. I took off running. My legs pumped hard as I cut across the back field towards the woods.
Our ranch butted up to national forest land. Those trees were my refuge and solace, the only safe place Iâd ever known. I pushed my muscles harder, even once Iâd reached the shelter of the woods.
My lungs burned as I dodged tall pines and fallen logs. Tears streamed down my face as the guilt grabbed hold. How could I have left her? Iâd learned the hard way that it would be worse for us both if I stepped in. Still, I shouldâve stayed close.
My run slowed to a walk as I wrapped my arms around my waist. I followed an invisible path I knew by heart and sent up a silent prayer for my momâs protection. But I wasnât sure that God heard me. If He did, Heâd remained silent in response so far. I prayed harder, pleading and beggingâfor safety and for freedom.
My muscles burned as the path moved into the foothills of the mountains. The sound of rushing water teased my earsâit only made my tears come harder. This was the place that my mom had shown me, the one weâd bring a picnic to in summer or hike out to in our snow boots in winter.
I stepped out of the trees and took in the waterfall. The crashing of the water onto the rocks below reminded me that there were forces more powerful than me in the world. More mighty even than my father and his fists. I only wished I could channel them to take him on.
âAddie?â
My head jerked in the direction of the voice, my heart hammering against my ribs. I let out a shaky breath as I took in my cousin. âEvie.â
She strode towards me quickly, her horse, Storm, grazing by the edge of the pool of water. She framed my face with her hands and then pulled me into a hug. âWhat happened?â
âI-Iâm okay. Dad hurt Mom.â My voice cracked on my words, and the tears continued to fall.
Everly hugged me tighter. âIâd like to kick his sorry ass.â
âEvie.â
She was so much braver than I was. So much fiercer. Never afraid to stand up to anyone, even her jerk of a brother or her dad when he was in one of his moods.
âMaybe we could poison him. Thereâs some rat poison at my house. We can grind it up and put it in his sweet tea.â
My hands fisted in her sweatshirt. âYou canât.â
Everly pulled back. âWhy not? He shouldnât be able to do what heâs doing to you and Aunt Cecily.â She bit her bottom lip. âMom says we canât interfere.â
No one wanted to interfere. I knew the neighbors saw Momâs bruises, but they never said a word.
Everlyâs fingers dug into my shoulders. âWe could run away. We can gather our things, and Iâll bring Storm to pick you up. We could live off the land. We know how.â
Sure, our mothers had taught us what plants were safe to eat, how to build traps and shelter, but how long would we really last? I swallowed against the burn in my throat. âIâm going to talk to Mom. Iâll ask her to run away. We could steal one of the cars. Maybe we could take you and your mom, too.â
A look of longing passed over Everlyâs face. âSheâll never leave. Dad doesnât hit her or us. Heâs justâŠâ
Her words trailed off, but I knew what she meant. At times, it seemed as if Uncle Howardâs brain didnât work rightâhe was always sure that the whole world was out to get him.
Everlyâs fingers tightened on my shoulders. âBut if you get a chance to be free, take it.â She gave me a wobbly smile. âYou and I could go to college together.â
âYeah.â College was a million years away. What I wanted more than anything in the meantime was to go to school. To have a real teacher and a classroom.
A crack of thunder sounded, and I looked at the sky. Dark storm clouds had rolled in, and a drop of rain splashed on my forehead. âYou should go. You donât want to get caught out in this on horseback.â
Everly looked back at Storm, who pawed at the dirt. âWhat about you? Want to come with me to my house? Storm can carry us both.â
I shook my head. âItâll just make him madder. Iâll wait here for a little bit and then go back.â
Her jaw clenched. âYou sure?â
âIâll be fine.â I just hoped the same would be true for my mom.
âOkay. Letâs meet here for lunch tomorrow. Twelve-thirty?â
âIâll be here.â
She pulled me into a tight hug. âLove you, Addie.â
âLove you, too.â
Everly released me and mounted Storm, giving me a wave as the skies opened. She kicked Storm into a canter as she rode away, headed down a path that would take her around and up the mountains to her house.
Rain peppered my skin. I hadnât planned on this little adventure, and I was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I hurried for cover, but the trees could only give me so much.
The wind howled, sending the rain sideways and a chill rocketing through me. Iâd just stay for a little while longer, enough time for Dadâs temper to cool. Only I didnât think forever was long enough for that.
My family tried to break me. But, somehow, I made it out alive, even though the wounds from that survival are forever carved into my bones. Now, my only wish is forâŠnormal. To know what itâs like to have friends, a job, a home.
The last thing I want is for my new roommate to see the scars Iâm so desperate to keep hidden, especially not the ruggedly handsome man who steals my breath and sends my heart into overdrive.
But something tells me that Beckett has demons, too. I see it in the shadows haunting his gorgeous eyes and the way he looks at me with gentle understanding.
As our unlikely friendship becomes so much more, forces from my life slink out of the shadows. And we could both lose everything weâve fought so hard forâdown to our very last breathsâŠ
About Catherine Cowles Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she’s not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
A Close Proximity, Single Parent Romance from A.L. Jackson
Coming March 28th
âYou matter, Salem. You matter. Look at you, darlinâ.â
There was the charm all mixed up with the disorder that was at the heart of this man.
My chest squeezed and the blood thundered through my veins.
âBeauty. The meaning of it.â The words fell on a harsh exhale from his lips, and the air that was barely skating up my throat died right there when he slowly toed off the dress shoes he wore.
Obsidian eyes flashed like a rush of the darkest night, rough as they devoured me from across the space.
Without looking away, he leaned down and peeled the socks from his feet.
I gulped, then I was nearly passing out when he ticked through the buttons on his shirt and peeled that off, too.
The man was nothing but wide, wide shoulders. Muscle everywhere, bulky on his arms and chest, his abdomen packed, tapering down and narrow at the waist.
Most all of his skin was covered in ink that seemed to scream the same as the walls, though it remained indistinct in the minimal light cast down from the rafters.
But I could make out enough to get the intonation.
The pure intimidation.
Menace and peril and life.
The mountain of a man stood there for a moment, then he took a step forward.
Energy rushed across the floor.
He approached like a phantom. Like a painting that had come to life.
It covered me whole and caressed me in shadows.
I was right. This man was definitely, definitely dangerous.
There was no question about it then.
And still, I remained there, held in his gaze, feeling the safest Iâd ever felt.
I thought he was coming for me, only he slipped by on his bare feet.
Desire rippled through on his wake.
God, that was sexy, too.
Jud Lawson was an anomaly.
Conflict and peace.
Harmony and dissention.
A blinding light in the longest night.
Stealer of heart and sanity and good sense.
Because remaining there on the ground like an offering?
Posing for him?
There was no question Iâd lost my mind.
His aura rippled through the room as he moved over to the wall that I faced. He pulled an easel closer, and the canvas he set on it looked like itâd been painted over a thousand times. He knelt to open a few jars of paint.
He picked up a brush and studied me.
I trembled beneath his watch.
âBeauty,â he rumbled. âSecond I saw you out in the rain. Thought I had to be imagining things. Hallucinating.â
âI was terrified,â I admitted, our voices dancing through the condensed air.
Louder than they should be.
The thrumming of our hearts was palpable.
Frantic beats that echoed against the other.
A smirk ticked at the corner of his sexy mouth, then it slipped when he glanced at me then to the canvas. He began to paint. Quick, sweeping strokes, as if the images fell from him without thought. âI felt your fear, Salem. I felt your desperation. Wonder if I felt it then, that we were bound to be more than strangers. Wonder if I knew you were supposed to be on the back of my bike that night. Wonder if I knew you were going to become something that mattered in my life.â
“If you want a book that will wreck you in the best way possible than grab this UNPUTDOWNABLE, HEARTBREAKINGLY BEAUTIFUL story that will leave you with ALL THE FEELS!”
Want a Signed Paperback or Say It’s Forever Release Box? PRE-ORDER HERE
The Alternate Cover is Here!
Not only do we have the AMAZING release boxes up, but the alternate cover is now available to pre-order as well. I am IN LOVE with both covers and can’t choose a favorite!
If you can’t choose either – I also have hardbacks that feature both!
Want a Say It’s Forever Release Box? It includes a signed paperback, premium merchandise, and goodies! This box is even better than the last and I CAN’T WAIT for you all to see what’s inside!!!
Quantities are limited and boxes sell out fast, so reserve yours now!
Want a Signed Paperback or Say It’s Forever Release Box? PRE-ORDER HERE
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, SAY IT’S FOREVER, releasing March 28th!
If sheâs not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text âaljacksonâ to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.
âAn unforgettable start
to a new series. Atmospheric, suspenseful and crackling with tension and electric chemistry,
Tattered Stars is a must read romance for 2022!â âSamantha Young, New York Times
bestselling author
Tattered Stars, a beautiful and moving romantic
suspense and first book in the Tattered & Torn series from bestselling author Catherine
Cowles is coming February 1st and we have the first look!
Prologue Everly
PAST
Be brave. For sixty seconds. Twenty breaths. I could do anything for twenty ins and outs.
The springs on my mattress squeaked as I swung my legs over the side of my bed. I froze. And
listened.
There were lots of things I hated about growing up here. But there were things I loved, too.
Things I was grateful for. Like how attuned I was to every whisper. Iâd know in an instant if a
sound didnât belong.
I waited. Heard the screen door rattle in the wind. The call of an owl. Even the hum of our
refrigerator in the kitchen. I didnât hear my brother or dad. Mom had been gone for days, helping
a baby come into the world. But I wished for her now. She was the only one who had a chance
of stopping the craziness. But she wasnât here, and I wasnât sure what tomorrow would
bring.
I pushed to my feet, praying my mattress would stay quiet and not give me away. The
springs didnât betray me again. I moved to my closet, careful to avoid any floorboards that
creaked. Pulling a pair of worn jeans from a shelf, I slipped them on. I tugged the nightgown
over my head and reached for a t-shirt.
The breeze picked up through my open window. It had been unbearably hot today but just a
few hours into the night and a chill had settled. I grabbed a flannel just in case. Slipping on
socks, I picked up my boots. I knew better than to put hard soles on this floor.
My dad had taught me how to move without a sound to avoid any kind of predator. And
tonight, I was thankful for each and every lessonâeven the ones where Iâd had to roll in mud to
disguise myself.
I reached for the doorknob, but my hand stilled on the metal. I could just go back to bed.
Forget my attempt at being brave and wait for Mom to come home. To bring my dad down from
his paranoid state where everyone was the enemy and we were at risk from it allâthe
government, neighbors, even my teachers.
Iâd watched as our lives got smaller and smaller, with fewer and fewer people to trust. I
didnât remember a lot of the normal. But I remembered some. The second grade and Miss
Christie before Dad had pulled Ian and me out of school. Visiting Momâs family in Portland
before heâd decided they were heathens. The town fair before he became convinced that it was
evil.
I closed my eyes and turned the knob. Stepping out into the hall, I listened again. Nothing
out of place. I created a dance to avoid every problematic board in my path, sometimes
tiptoeing, other times stretching my legs to the point I worried Iâd tip over.
Finally, I reached the front door. Our old dog, Bruiser, raised his head, but I held a single
finger to my lips, begging for silence. Feeding him table scraps mustâve paid off because he lay
back down and let out a soft snore.
I eased open the door and stepped through to the first true rebellion Iâd ever embarked on.
One that might make me like my older sisterâan outcast. I closed the door behind me with a
soft snick, but it was deafening to my ears, echoing off the mountain itself. I let the screen door
fall closed, too, only a small rattle in my wake.
I hopped over the porch steps entirely, knowing each and every one would give me away. I
landed with an oomph but held in my cry of pain. Slipping on my boots, I glanced at the shed in
the distance. The motion lights on its exterior meant I didnât dare try for it. So, I started for the
barn instead.
One of the doors was open a hair to let some of the night air in, and I pulled it a bit more,
just wide enough so Storm and I had a path. As I moved down the aisle, our few horses
nickered or lifted their heads to see who was about. I paused at the tack room, picked up a
bridle, and then continued until I reached Stormâs stall.
She must have scented me coming because her head was already over the stall door. I
gave her nose a rub and then urged her back. âGotta let me in.â She did as I asked, and I left
the door open, knowing she wasnât going anywhereâŠnot without me.
I eased the bridle over her head, and she accepted the bit without complaint. âWhat do you
say we go for a ride?â She seemed to nod her head in agreement. It wouldâve been so much
simpler if we were just taking off for one of our afternoon adventures, exploring the
mountains.
I led her out of the stall and towards the exit. We made our way out, and I hoisted myself
onto the fence so I could climb onto her back. She stayed steady as I threw a leg over and
adjusted my grip on the reins. âNice and easy.â
I guided her down the path that stayed far away from the house. One that led to the
mountain switchbacks. I glanced up at the sky, thanking the heavens for a nearly full moon. I
just prayed my sense of direction was as good as I thought.
Iâd never ridden all the way to town before. It was at least fifteen miles, and several paths
ebbed and flowed. But I knew where I was headed. Iâd memorized these mountains every day of
my life. They were both a refuge and a prison. Solace and tormentor.
Tonight, they were on my side. Each trailâs crossroads seemed to give me the next logical
step until switchbacks turned to wide, worn paths, the dirt packed by hikers and riders. Soon, I
reached the road into town. I stayed just off it, my heart hammering against my ribs as the
forests turned to neighborhoods.
I adjusted my grip on the reins, seeking out a peek at the lake on the outskirts of town. The
moon made the water almost glitter. âJust a few more minutes,â I whispered to myself. I could be
brave for a little longer.
I moved Storm onto the blacktop, her hooves echoing against the buildings along Aspen
Street. Every store was dark with limited streetlights so residents and visitors alike could see the
stars. Normally, I loved seeing them, too, but tonight I fought a shiver. Wolf Gap felt like a ghost
town.
I slowed Storm as we approached the street I knew held my next battle for bravery. I
wondered if I was already past the point of no return or if I could guide Storm back up the
mountain and go home. I turned her onto Spruce.
The light from a building poured out into the night. It wasnât harsh, more like a soft beacon,
guiding me home. Only if I walked inside, I had a feeling Iâd never see home again. WANT
MORE? Click here for the full sneak peek. >>>https://bit.ly/3KXHwMq
Synopsis
Be brave. Just for sixty seconds. Twenty breaths.
One night changed them both forever.
Their lives shattered, beyond repair, with jagged edges and
pieces askew.
Now, Everly has a chance to make things right. To bring
healing to the place where everything fell apart. But it means facing the family her father almost
destroyed, and the boy with the dark eyesânow grownâwho still haunts her dreams.
Just one breath away from having your life ripped out from
under you.
The last thing Hayes wants is another reminder of all the ways
he failed sixteen years ago. When Everly drives back into Wolf Gap, his only mission is to get
her to leave. For his familyâs sake, and for his own, those demons need to stay buried for
good.
But everything about this woman is a surprise, from her spine
of steel to the sanctuary she hopes to create with the land her mother left behind. And Hayes is
powerless to stay away.
As a careful friendship sparks into something more, someone
watches. And theyâll do anything to tear it all apartâŠ
About Catherine Cowles Writer of words.
Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had
her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her
own stories. When she’s not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon,
listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
Canary, an all-new not-to-be-missed, enemies-to-lovers standalone mafia romance from New York Times bestselling author Tijan is available now!
We were on the front lines in that world, the mafia world. There was nothing soft or glamorous about it. Who you were before no longer mattered. Names didnât exist.
I joined anyway. I had no other choice because they took my sister. Join. Find her. Try and make it out alive.
Then he won me in a poker game. I hated him instantly, thinking he was like my other bosses before him. He wasnât. He was worse.
He wasnât just cold. He was dead inside. It didnât matter that he was gorgeous. He was the most lethal thing Iâd ever met.
He was also the only person who could keep me alive, if he didnât kill me himself.
A/N This is a 102k mafia/cartel standalone. This is the most violent book Tijan has ever written. Trigger warning: references to sexual violence
âCanaries sing to save lives. I sing and people die.â
âIâŠâ I didnât even know. I couldnât explain what I didnât know. âAsk me about Jake in a different way.â âThere is no other way.â âYou know there is! Ask it in a different way.â I shoved up to my feet. This was the fight here. I was sick of the killing. I could not handle one more body, especially not someone I knew. My chest heaved. âAsk it in a different way.â I liked Jake. I was hurt by what he said, but he wasnât on my list anymore. I frowned. âWhat happened with Cavers?â âNone of your business!â he erupted, his hands flying in the air, but he was moving farther away from me. His back hit the wall, and he let me see him, how haunted he was, how stricken. He let it all out for me to see and read, though I wasnât sure he knew it. âI donât run my decisions through some pussy I like plowing.â Okay, now I was mad. âTake that back,â I said quietly. He swore, low and long. Then he moved, flipping a chair into the wall. It impaled there, and the wall held it. It looked like an abstract piece of art. âTake it back!â I clipped out, folding my arms over my chest. He looked away. I didnât know what was going on here, but fuck him if he didnât take back calling me pussy he liked to plow. I screamed, âTake it back!â âNo!â He was across the room and in my face in the next second. I braced myself, but he didnât touch me. He stopped just short of it, his breath in my cheek, his eyes taking me in, scanning my face. He was panicking. I saw it now, lurking there. Good! That filled me with satisfaction. My chest started pounding. No, that was my heart. It was thumping in my chest, getting stronger, fasterâa steady and powerful beat now. I could feel it all the way to my toesâin my fingers, my neck. His eyes lingered on my lips. He couldnât look away. Stark hunger flashed in his eyes, and he raised a hand, holding it in the air. It curved gently, as if he wanted to touch my neck, or the side of my face. But he didnât move. He just held it there, a few inches from my skin. His eyes lifted to mine. âYou bitch.â My heart still pounded, trying to reach him. âYouâre a murdering asshole,â I whispered back, seething. âWhat?âhe sneered. âYou want to fuck now? Forget you put a fucking gun to your head?â âDonât kill Jake.â He pressed into me, his eyes wild, on the edge of control.
âWhy?â His breath was hot on me. He bent down, his eyes glittering now. Then he found his control. He rested one hand against the wall, next to my head. The other found my hip and slid up, moving under my shirt, raising it. God. I almost moaned. Wetness flooded me, and I started to throb. I wanted him. So fucking bad. He bent and his lips grazed over mine, my cheeks, my chin. Tingles raced through me. Jesus. I wanted him deep inside of me. I shifted, pressing against him, and both of us groaned from the contact. I began moving, a slow grind, and he was quiet, grinding back. This was different from the other times. The terms had flipped. Roles were changing. Everything was being upended between us.
About Tijan Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. Sheâs written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new series from north Minnesota where she lives with an English Cocker she adores.
Rich. Vicious. Vengeful. Forbidden. The Boys of Clermont Bay had always been untouchable.
The Taste of an Enemy, the first angst-filled new adult romance in The Taste of an Enemy Duet from Holly Renee is available now!
Rich. Vicious. Vengeful. Forbidden. The Boys of Clermont Bay had always been untouchable. And Carson Hale was the worst of them all. He was pretentious and a player, and he had hated me for so long I forgot that we were ever anything more than enemies. Brutally beautiful and savagely heartless, his only plan was to ruin everything I loved. But dares were made, and even though I had no business saying yes, I found myself in trouble and forced to work with my rival to get us out of it. He had always been cruel, but something changed. The lure of him was too much. The way I craved his touch was unbearable. Just as I fell for him, he proved himself to be exactly who he had been all along.
I walked into Wings and Things and spotted Eli as soon as I made it through the door. He smiled before standing and coming to meet me. I couldnât tell if anyone else was already at the table, and I tried to remind myself that I shouldnât care. Tonight was about having fun and getting to know Eli. Carson didnât matter for either of those things. I would just drown him out and pretend he wasnât there. That was what I was used to doing. That was what the two of us had been
doing for years. Even though I was already a little but irritated that Eli hadnât offered to pick me up. My dad was irritated by that fact too. âYou look beautiful.â Eli grinned before pulling me into a hug. âThank you.â I breathed in the scent of his warm cologne, the smell familiar and calming. âYou look nice as well.â I looked up at him as he let me go. He was much taller than me, although shorter than Carson, and he had a smile that made me feel comfortable. He grabbed my hand in his and led the way back to the table. I fixed my hair while I was still blocked from view, and I planted the best smile I could manage on my face as he pulled out the chair for me that was directly across from Carson. âThank you.â I settled into my seat and tried to avoid making eye contact with Carson. âAllie, this is Kimberly. Kimberly, Allie. I think you all might know each other.â I looked across the table at Kimberly, and of course I knew her. We had gone to school together since grade school, and I had hated her almost as long. She was popular, conceited, and a perfect fit for Carson. âOf course.â I nodded and pulled out my menu. âHow are you, Kim?â âIâm perfect.â She giggled and looked over at Carson. His hand disappeared under the table, and even though I couldnât see it, I knew that his hand probably rested on her thigh. I wanted to rip it off. âAwesome,â I mumbled and tried to focus on the menu. Carson laughed under his breath, but I ignored him. âWhat are you getting?â I looked to my right where Eli sat. âDo you want to share some wings?â âOh.â He looked up from his menu. âI was thinking about getting the burger.â âA burger at a wing place.â Carson scoffed and tossed his menu down on the table. âIâll share an order with you, Allie. Kimâs getting a salad.â He didnât give me time to answer. As soon as the waitress came to our table, Carson opened his mouth. âMy girl Allie and I are going to share a large order of wings, extra ranch for both of us. No carrots. She hates those.â I looked at him like he had lost his mind because I was pretty sure that he had. âWhat can I get you to drink?â The waitress was now looking at me. âUm, just a Coke, please.â Everyone else ordered their food, and I fidgeted with my hands under the table. âSo, Allie, how is school going for you?â I looked up at Eli. I had almost forgotten he was there. âItâs all right. Iâm so ready for fall break, though.â âMe too.â He nodded. âAre you going anywhere? My family is taking a trip to Europe.â âNo.â I almost choked on the word. Sometimes I forgot just how far apart my family was from those who went to Prep. They were made of money, old money to be exact, and guys like Eli had never had to think about working or how heâd pay for college. âWe typically stay home and do a Thanksgiving meal at our house. Itâs real low-key.â And my dad would still be working every day except for Thanksgiving, and my small house would be busting with people. My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. We were always together on holidays, and I loved it. It may not have been Europe, but it was ours. âThatâs cool.â He nodded and turned his chair to where he faced me better. âWeâve been going to Europe for years now. My parents love it, and they take us about every other year. Have you ever been?â âTo Europe?â I shook my head, and suddenly I felt ridiculous. âNo. The farthest Iâve been is Disney World.â I didnât mention that had been almost ten years ago. I could hear Carson and Kimberly talking across from us, and I hoped he was too enthralled with her and her perfect face to even consider listening to our conversation. Eli laughed like I had just told a joke, but I hadnât. âThatâs too bad. I bet you would really like Europe.â âWhat makes you think that, Eli?â Carson was leaned back in his chair with his arm resting on the back of Kimberlyâs. Eli laughed nervously and looked between me and Carson. âItâs Europe.â He shrugged his shoulders. âBut you donât know anything about Allie specifically that would make her love Europe, correct?â Eli opened his mouth, but Carson continued. âLike you have no clue that sheâs been dreaming of going to Paris forever, and she has this little Eiffel Tower key chain that sheâs had on her set of keys since sheâs had them. Or that she thinks sheâs part Irish because she has a little bit of green in
her eyes.â âI didnât realize you knew so much about her.â Eli was no longer aloof. He was sizing Carson up, and I wasnât here for a pissing contest. âWell, now you do.â Carson stared back at him with the same unrelenting gaze, and I felt like I was going insane. Carson hadnât given a shit about me since that night he needed me and I wasnât there. If he wasnât ignoring me altogether, he was making me wish he was, and now all of the sudden, he wanted to share wings and spew facts about me like he was my best friend. âStop,â I hissed. âYouâre being an ass. Arenât you supposed to be on your own date?â I looked over at Kimberly, and she looked uncomfortable. I couldnât blame her. I felt uncomfortable too. The waitress arrived back at our table with food in hand, and we were spared from whatever Carson was going to say next. He looked down at the food, and his bright eyes looked so hollow. He scrunched his brow, something he always did when he was upset, and his jaw stiffened. I didnât know if he was angry with me or with himself. But I didnât want to find out. I quickly grabbed a wing from our plate and took a huge bite. Sauce dripped down my chin, but I didnât stop. The food was a distraction. If we were eating, then we werenât talking, and I couldnât stand to hear anything more from Carson right now. Not after everything he just said. Not with the way he had brought up memories of me like it wouldnât mess with my head. âThis is good.â I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand. âDo you want a bite?â I looked over to Eli, and he shook his head as he looked at my half-bitten wing. âNah. Iâm good.â âSuit yourself.â I shrugged as I looked down at his measly-looking burger. âIâll take one.â Carson reached forward, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, and he stood in his seat enough to bring my hand to his lips. I stared at him, shocked by what he was doing, but there wasnât an ounce of shame in his gaze. He didnât look away from me for a second as he bit down into the wing I was still holding, and I couldnât stop myself from holding my breath as his lips met my fingers. Carson Hale wasnât just taking a bite of my chicken. He was causing a scene, and part of me wondered how he had gotten so damn good at it. He ran his tongue over the edge of my thumb, licking up the sauce that had dripped there, and I felt like he had just used his tongue on parts of my body that no one else ever had. I pressed my thighs together as I watched his mouth, and I couldnât bring myself to care that Eli was watching me as Carson finally let go of my hand and settled back into his seat. âYouâre right, Allie. Thatâs absolutely delicious.â He licked his lip before picking up a wing of his own, then began eating like that display hadnât just happened. I picked up my napkin, quickly dropping my gaze to my lap as I wiped my hands, but I couldnât get the feel of him off. And I didnât know if I wanted to.
About Holly
Iâm Holly Renee, a small-town east Tennessee girl who is obsessed with all things romance. I love bringing flawed, sassy, and real characters to life in a way that makes you feel like youâve been best friends with them for years. No two Holly Renee books are the same, but if you love real, relatable, fun female characters and swoon-worthy heroes, Iâm your girl. When Iâm not writing or reading, you can find me momming so hard, being disgustingly in love with my husband, or chilling in the middle of a lake with my sunglasses and a float. #lakelife I have a 2-year-old adorable little man who is as wild and sweet as they come and a baby girl on the way.
I walk into Drip after the last of my classes has ended for the day. The cool AC feels good, and Iâm glad to see friendly faces rather than just an endless sea of people I donât know.
âSo, how was your first day?â Ian asks, placing an iced caramel macchiato in front of me.
âThanks,â I say, accepting the drink and taking a sip. âMy classes were good, so far. The art program here is pretty great, so
Iâm excited about my painting class and my clay class. And my bio lecture was pretty standard. It was all typical first-day stuff, but everyone was really nice.â
âGood. Anyone gives you trouble, you just send them to me,â Ian nods. Bless his heart, I think heâs serious. Heâs tall, but heâs lean. Built like a runner, but Iâd bet my bank account, such as it is, that the only running Ian does is on a treadmill. Heâs got fair skin, freckles, and strawberry blonde hair. His glasses are those thick black trendy ones I could never pull off, but heâs got that whole hot-professor look down.
He turns his attention to Mel. âHow about you, Mel? Did you kick some accounting ass today?â
âDamn straight I did,â she says, stepping behind the counter and slipping on her apron. âHow about you? Howâs the TA life so far?â
âExhausting,â he smiles. âEspecially when you add this place in. But I love it. Iâm only doing two classes for Hanna–Dr. Bergman–this semester, so things will level off, Iâm sure. I just feel totally overwhelmed, but in a good way, you know?â
I totally get it. âI know exactly what you mean. The last week of my life has been a little daunting–a lot of change and new experiences, but itâs all good stuff.â
âExcellent,â he nods. â And you know where youâre headed tomorrow?â
I smile over my eye-roll. âYes, I know where all of my classes are. And I scoped out a study bay in the library today. Look at me, exploring uncharted waters.â
Mel clears her throat. âDonât worry about her, Ian. She got a personal tour of campus from Ty Marshall.â
Ian nearly drops the pitcher of tea heâs holding. âSay what now?â
âIt was no big deal– my tour guide was double-booked or something, so Ty took over.â I shrug as if itâs no big deal, because it isnât one. Ok, he was sex on a damn stick, but he was just doing his job. Well, his friendâs job.
âHoney.â Ian levels me with an older-brother look, and my heart pinches. âYou need to be careful with that one.â
âIt wonât be an issue, I promise. It was just a tour. He had to do it. And Iâm 100% positive he was not impressed by me.â
âOh, sweetie,â Ian shakes his head. âLetâs get a few things straight. Those broody boys on the hill? The fearsome foursome who live in The Chapel? They donât have to do anything. And they certainly donât have to work. Each one of them is richer than sin even without their trust funds. So trust me, he was not doing his job. He was doing someone elseâs. And I want to know why.â
âI told you– it was a favor. He wouldnât say what the favor was for though.â âSee? Suspicious.â
Melâs refilling the napkin dispenser. âCalm down, Ian. My guess is he jumped at the opportunity to cover Gabeâs shift because our girl here is gorgeous. Plus, sheâs new in town and knows nothing of his reputation.â
âHis reputation?â I ask. Sure, he was surly, but maybe thereâs more to the story.
âTheyâre all assholes,â Ian shakes his head. âOk, not assholes, exactly. But theyâre rich and entitled, and they donât seem to give much of a damn about anyone but each other. Theyâre a tight crew. Sure, theyâll socialize. Hell, Whit deejays half the parties on Greek row. And Booker plays hockey. And, yes, I will take this moment to pay homage how fucking hot his hockey butt is. So, yea, theyâre visible and everybody knows them. Part of that is because Bookerâs great-great-great grandaddy founded this school. Part of that is theyâre all nice to look at. But hereâs the thing: theyâre totally insular. Itâs the four of them against the rest of the world. I donât think any of them have ever had a long-term relationship. Not to say you canât have some fun, but…just be careful.â
Blurb:
My family destroyed hers, but I can’t let her go…
Ty
Amends…they’re not mine to make, but I’ve been haunted by the memory of a shattered girl in that courtroom two years ago.
So, I tell myself I’m doing what’s right. Iâll stay in the shadows, out of her way. She wonât know Iâm there–she doesnât even know who I am. I’m just setting it up and walking away with as clear a conscience as my guilt will allow me.
But then she needs a tutor. And I’m the only one working. How can I say no?
But one coincidental meeting turns into two, and then three. And before I can stop myself, I’m falling hard for a woman I have no business wanting. The problem is, she’s falling hard for me, too.
I need to tell her who I am–I have to. But I know that the moment I do, I’ll break her. And sheâll break me, too.
Uncovered is a full-length novel with a tortured hero, a broken heroine, and an HEA. It is the first STANDALONE in the Bainbridge University Series.
About the Author:
Andi Burns writes contemporary romance infused with humor, sass, and steam. She loves a happily-ever-after as much as her characters do, and she always reads the last page of a book first, just to make sure it all turns out okay.
Andi lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, folding laundry, or daydreaming about her next hero and heroine.
All Encompassing Books 