Exclusive Excerpt: The Guy on the Right by Kate Stewart

 

We’re celebrating the release of The Guy on the Right by Kate Stewart!

Fall in love with Theo and Laney today!

Scroll down for an Exclusive Excerpt….

 

 

 

Contemporary Romance/Romantic Dramedy

Stand Alone

Designer: Q Design

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2LyFdTR

Links coming soon!

Paperback: https://amzn.to/2SFt3dc

 

 

Blurb:

Strike One-My mother named me Theodore after her favorite chipmunk.

Not cool, Mom.

I‘ve spent most of my life answering to Teddy, because I couldn’t make Theo work.

Except for here. College. The place where all bets are off, and I’ve managed to redeem myself.

There’s only one problem, my new roommate, Troy, is football royalty and looks like he stepped off the set of an Abercrombie shoot.

Doesn’t matter, I cook a mean breakfast for his panty parade, and we get along well.

And anyway, this year I got the girl. And she’s perfect.

That’s right. Theodore Houseman, former band geek, now marching band rock star has finally landed the girl of his dreams.

Everything is perfect.

That is, until Troy takes a good look at her.

I’m not going down without a fight. As a matter of fact, I’m not going down at all. As glorious as these days may be for my all-star roommate, Laney is my end game.

I may not know much about play strategy, but I’ve been the good guy my whole life. I’ve been listening and I know exactly what women want. Framed in a picture standing next to me, Troy may seem like Mr. Perfect, but he’s underestimating the guy on the right.

Spoiler alert: In this story, the underdog is going to win.

 

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

THEO

Pacing the aisles of the grocery store, I check the list Troy gave me and double back for a tomato with his crumpled twenty in my pocket. As usual, his demands exceed the chump change he gave me. I knew when he moved in, he was penniless. He has yet to pay his rent in full and his IOU’s are stacking up. I don’t mind doing the grocery shopping, because he does the yard work. I’m also the cook and adhere to his dietary restrictions. This doesn’t bother me either because I need to stay in shape myself for my own time on he field. Granted, I don’t deadlift the weight of my teammates.

I’m halfway back to produce when I hear a familiar voice utter some magic words.

“He’s a dick. I got tired of him. Total dick. Yeah, I know. Well, I had to figure it out for myself. Shut it right the hell on up with the, ‘I told you so’. Devin, you’re starting to sound like Momma.”

Stopping in my tracks, I redirect all my attention toward the woman pacing an aisle over.

It can’t be. Catching sight of her, my eyes trail down to the cowboy boots, just as she turns the corner and awareness prickles.

It’s her.

Frozen behind my shopping cart, I look down at my clothing choice. I’m wearing my PBS shirt, dark jeans, and Converse. I can’t remember if I gelled my hair before I left the house, which could be disastrous. Without a second thought, I follow as she spouts off on her phone.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll meet you there.”

I’m smiling at her back while she pushes her squeaky cart. She’s small but curvy, her dress flaring out a little at her hips. Toned calves peek out through a knee-length slit as she saunters down the aisle with purpose. Dark-brown hair flows past her shoulders swaying with her movement. Intrigued, I follow her into the next aisle as she gazes at the various pickle jars like they have some secret she’s straining to hear. She chooses kosher dill, my favorite, as I try to get a better look at her profile. Pink glossed lips protrude as she bites one of them and scans the rest of the shelves. It’s when I push forward for more inspection that she turns to look directly at me. All words fall away when I get my first real look at her.

“Need some pickles?”

“Sure,” I say with a grin, stepping forward and taking the jar out of her hand.

Her mouth parts as she watches me put them in my cart.

“Is your back broken, buddy? Or are you just desperate for pickles?”

“Uh huh.”

“Wow, okay, enjoy.” She gives me wide eyes that scream ‘weirdo’ before she grabs a replacement jar and wheels away.

Shaking off my shock, I turn the corner to announce myself and slam into her waiting cart as she blocks the next aisle.

“Why are you following me? And choose your words carefully, or I will make a scene like you would never believe. You’re creeping me out right now, and I’m pretty sure I can take you.”

I chuckle and shake my head.

“Sorry, that was a dick move taking your pickles.”

She narrows hazel eyes at me. Adorable. “Yes, it was. Doesn’t answer my question. Why are you following me? I assure you whatever is in my cart, they have more of it here.” I

peruse her stash.

“How about some rum?”

“Come again?”

“Rum.”

“Ugh, look, I can see that you’re high…or something. But this is the grocery store.” She jerks her head. “Liquor store is down the street.”

“I’m not high.”

“You sure? ‘Cause that would explain a lot.”

“Banana rum?”

“Fascinatin’. Look, no habla window licker. I’m sure the ‘special’ bus driver will come retrieve you shortly.”

I bark out a laugh. “Laney, it’s me, Houseman.”

She tilts her head before realization dawns, and a smile upturns her lips. “Houseman?”

Nodding, I return her smile as her eyes trail down, taking me in. I can’t decipher what she’s thinking.

“So, this is you?”

“Yep. This is me.”

“Well, you’re lucky I remembered. I was about to end you.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty funny you think you could take me.”

“Oh, I can,” she says confidently. “How did you know it was me?”

“I heard you on the phone.”

“Forever an eavesdropper, huh?”

“Forever having disturbingly private conversations in public, huh?”

She smiles. “Got me there.”

“Your accent is pretty unmistakable. Especially when you say the word dick.”

She lifts a brow. I lift one back.

“So, you all healed up?”

“Mostly.” I palm my chest, “there’s still emotional damage.”

She reaches in her cart and extends a bag of Twizzlers toward me. “Here, you need it more than I do.”

“I’m good. Wouldn’t want you to miss the only fruit in your cart.”

We grin at each other a beat longer before she sighs.

“So, you live around here?”

“No, I was running errands and decided to stop here instead of the store closer to home. Crazy coincidence, right?”

“Yeah.”

We spend a few minutes circling the aisles while I observe everything she tosses into her cart and it’s all junk. Doritos. Doritos. Doritos and one bag of sour cream and onion chips

for variety.

“Having a party?”

“No. Why?”

“No reason,” I say, biting back a smile. “You might want to get another bag.”

“Don’t judge me. I’m post breakup.”

“If memory serves me correctly, you’re the one who did the heartbreaking.”

“It’s still a breakup,” she admonishes.

“I’m just trying to save you from clogged arteries.”

I lift my hands from my cart in surrender as she peruses its contents. “Leave it to you to be so disciplined.”

“Eh, I have food allergies, like, if I eat a peanut or most any nut, and there is no EpiPen around, I die. I rarely eat out. And I live in a house full of athletes with zero percent body

fat.”

“Not cool,” she says with a sigh, “you know I’m trying to cut down on those.”

“Sorry, if it helps, they’re both acting like fuckboys at the moment.”

“It does help, thanks.”

“Anytime.”

We grin at each other.

“I’m glad we ran into each other again,” she says. “You know it’s only been a week, but I’ve made good on my oath.”

“Going to need to do better than a week to impress me.”

“You seem hard to impress.”

“Nah, just giving you shit,” I focus on the delicate curve of her slender neck, the full, dark lashes that dance over her cheeks as she scans more junk. She radiates playful energy that’s hard to ignore.

“Well, I’m giving up fuckboys for food. So, it shouldn’t be that hard to stick to.”

“I guess I should start a bad habit to keep up?”

She turns to me with two boxes of Famous Amos cookies and hands me one. “You’ll thank me later.”

“I could thank you now. That is, if I woke up this morning and thought, ‘today is a good day to die.’”

“Oh shit, these have nuts in them,” she says, scanning the ingredients. “I may just be too dangerous for you to know.”

“Nah, I can handle you.”

“Think so, huh? Challenge accepted. Shop with me.”

It’s the longest grocery store trip of my whole fucking life.

Snails have a faster pace than Laney with a shopping cart.

She literally weighs every decision she makes for ten minutes, and not only that, an aisle after a decision is made, if she finds something she wants more or a better ‘steal’, we have to double back to put it back exactly where we got it because she was taught better. I run my hands through my hair so many times, I feel like I’m balding by the time we make it to frozen foods. But it’s her smile and her laugh that keep me from bolting. It’s the energy I’m feeling that keeps me with her, though I’m fairly sure everything I have is hot and wilted.

When we finally roll out of the store, she turns to me.

“Well, what now?”

I shrug. “Beats me. You’re the one popping up everywhere I am.”

“Bound to happen.” She chews her lip in thought. “Maybe we’re supposed to be friends.”

“Maybe.”

“Give me your number,” she says, unlocking her phone before handing it to me. I type my number in, and she looks at it.

“So, Theo?”

“Yeah.”

“As in Theodore?”

I grimace. “Unfortunately.”

“As in Teddy?”

“Absolutely not,” I say with such authority, I’m rewarded with a giggle that strikes me right in the throat.

“Fine, I’ll stick with Houseman. Where you off to?”

“Waiting on my special,” I hold up air quotes, “bus driver.”

“Sorry about that, my mouth can get away from me sometimes.”

“No, really?”

“Smart ass, believe it or not, I’m shy at times around people I don’t know.”

“Not. I don’t believe it.”

She grins, shaking her phone in my direction, “I’ll hit you up, soon. We can hang out,” she smiles back at me as she rolls away, “and live our realest life.”

“Sounds good.”

We exchange curious back glances as we walk away. I’m so not her type. I can tell, and if I’m completely honest, though beautiful, she doesn’t seem like mine either.

It doesn’t matter in the least. Some part of me wants to know her, and I can tell by the way she looks back at me before she disappears behind a row of cars, she feels the same

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author:

 

A Texas native, Kate Stewart lives in North Carolina with her husband, Nick, and her naughty beagle, Sadie. She pens messy, sexy, angst-filled contemporary romance as well as romantic comedy and erotic suspense because it’s what she loves as a reader. Kate is a lover of all things ’80s and ’90s, especially John Hughes films and rap. She dabbles a little in photography, can knit a simple stitch scarf for necessity, and on occasion, does very well at whiskey.

Contact Kate- Email-authorkatestewart@gmail.com

Website Facebook Group Facebook Author Page Newsletter signup Twitter Instagram

 

Exclusive Excerpt: Handle With Care by Helena Hunting

Handle With Care, an all-new romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming August 27th, and we have a sneak peek!

12_13_Handle With Care (1)

HE WANTS TO LOSE CONTROL.

Between his parents’ messed up marriage and his narcissistic younger brother, Lincoln Moorehead has spent the majority of his life avoiding his family. After the death of his father, Lincoln finds himself in the middle of the drama. To top it all off, he’s been named CEO of Moorehead Media, much to his brother’s chagrin. But Lincoln’s bad attitude softens when he meets the no-nonsense, gorgeous woman who has been given the task of transforming him from the gruff, wilderness guy to a suave businessman

SHE’S TRYING TO HOLD IT TOGETHER.

Wren Sterling has been working double time to keep the indiscretions at Moorehead Media at bay, so when she’s presented with a new contract, with new responsibilities and additional incentives, she agrees. Working with the reclusive oldest son of a ridiculously entitled family is worth the hassle if it means she’s that much closer to pursuing her own dreams. What Wren doesn’t expect is to find herself attracted to him, or for it to be mutual. And she certainly doesn’t expect to fall for Lincoln. But when a shocking new Moorehead scandal comes to light, she’s forced to choose between her own family and the broody, cynical CEO.

HWC - PO.jpg

Pre-order your copy today!

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Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/HandleWithCare

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Excerpt from Chapter One

Chapter One

What Have I Gotten Myself into?

Wren

I slip onto the empty bar stool beside the lumberjack mountain man who looks like he tried to squeeze himself into a suit two sizes too small. He’s intimidatingly broad and thick, with long dark hair that’s been pulled up into a haphazard man bun thing. His beard is a hipster’s wet dream. His scowl, however, makes him about as approachable as a rabid porcupine. And yet, here I am, sidling up next to him.

He glances at me, eyes bleary and not really tracking. He quickly focuses on his half-empty glass again. Based on the slump of his shoulders and the uncoordinated way he picks up his glass and tips it toward his mouth, I’m guessing he’s pretty hammered. I order a sparkling water with a dash of cranberry juice and a lime.

What I could really use is a cup of lavender-mint tea and my bed, but instead, I’m sitting next to a drunk man in his thirties. My life is extra glamorous, obviously. And no, I’m not an escort, but at the moment I feel like my morals are on the same kind of slippery slope.

“Rough day?” I ask, nodding to the bottle that’s missing more than half its contents. It was full when he sat down at the bar an hour ago. Yes, I’ve been watching him the entire time, waiting for an opportunity to make my move. While he’s been sitting here, he’s turned down two women, one in a dress that could’ve doubled as a disco ball and the other in a top so low-cut, I could almost see her navel.

“You could say that,” he slurs. He props his cheek on his fist, eyes almost slits. I can still make out the vibrant blue hue despite them being nearly closed. They move over me, assessing. I’m wearing a conservative black dress with a high neckline and a hem that falls below my knees. Definitely not nearly as provocative as Disco Ball or Navel Lady.

“That solving your problems?” I give him a wry grin and tip my chin in the direction of his bottle of Johnnie.

His gaze swings slowly to the bottle. It gives me a chance to really look at him. Or what I can see of his face under his beard, anyway.

“Nah, but it helps quiet down all the noise up here.” He taps his temple and blurts, “My dad died.”

I put a hand on his forearm. It feels awkward, and creepy on my part since its half-genuine, half-contrived comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

He glances at my hand, which I quickly remove, and refocuses on his drink. “I should be sorry too, but I think he was mostly an asshole, so the world might be better off without him.” He attempts to fill his glass again, but his aim is off, and he pours it on the bar instead. I rush to lift my purse and grab a handful of napkins to mop up the mess.

“I’m drunk,” he mumbles.

“Well, I’m thinking that might’ve been the plan, considering the way you’re sucking that bottle back. I’m actually surprised you didn’t ask for a straw in the first place. Might be a good idea to throw a spacer [CD3] in there if you want tomorrow morning to suck less.” I push my drink toward him, hoping he doesn’t send me packing like he did the other women who approached him earlier.

He narrows his eyes at my glass, suspicious, maybe. “What is that?”

“Cranberry and soda.”

“No booze?”

“No booze. Go ahead. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

He picks up the glass and pauses when it’s an inch from his mouth. His eyes crinkle, telling me he’s smiling under that beard. “Does that mean Imma wake up with you beside me?”

I cock a brow. “Are you propositioning me?”

“Shit, sorry.” He chugs the contents of my glass. “I was joking. Besides, I’m so wasted, I can barely remember my name. Pretty sure I’d be useless in bed tonight. I should stop talkin’.” He scrubs a hand over his face and then motions to me. “I wouldn’t proposition you.”

I’m not sure how to respond. I go with semi-affronted, since it seems like somewhat of an insult. “Good to know.”

“Dammit. I mean, I think you might be hot. You look hot. I mean attractive. I think you’re pretty.” He tips his head to the side and blinks a few times. “You have nice eyes, all four of them are lovely.”

This time I laugh—for real—and point to the bottle. “I think you might want to tell your date you’re done for the night.”

He blows out a breath and nods. “You might be right.” He makes an attempt to stand, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, he stumbles into me and grabs my shoulders to steady himself. “Whoa. Sorry. Yup, I’m definitely drunk.” His face is inches from mine, breath smelling strongly of alcohol. Beyond that, I get a whiff of fresh soap and a hint of aftershave. He lets go of my shoulders and takes an unsteady step back. “I don’t usually do this.” He motions sloppily to the bottle. “Mostly I’m a three drink max guy.”

“I think losing your father makes this condonable.” I slide off my stool. Despite being tall for a woman, and wearing heels, he still manages to be close to a head taller than me.

“Yeah, maybe, but I still think I might regret it tomorrow.” He’s incredibly unsteady, swaying while standing in place. I take the opportunity for what it is and thread my arm through his, leading him away from the bar. “Come on, let’s get you to the elevator before you pass out right here.”

He nods, then wobbles a bit, like moving his head has set him off balance. “That’s probably a good idea.”

He leans into me as we weave through the bar and stumbles on the two stairs leading to the foyer. There’s no way I’ll be able to stop him if he goes down, but I drape one of his huge arms over my shoulder anyway, and slip my own around his waist, guiding him in a mostly straight line to the elevators.

“Which floor are you on?” I ask.

“Penthouse.” He drops his arm from my shoulder and flings it out, pointing to the black doors at the end of the hall. “Jesus, I feel like I’m on a boat.”

“It’s probably all the alcohol sloshing around in your brain.” I take his elbow again, helping him stagger the last twenty feet to the dedicated penthouse elevator.

He stares at the keypad for a few seconds, brow pulling into a furrow. “I can’t remember the code. It’s thumbprint activated though too.” He stumbles forward and presses his forehead against the wall, then tries to line up his thumb with the sensor, but his aim is horrendous and he keeps missing.

I settle a hand on his very firm forearm. This man is built like a tank. Or a superhero. For a moment, I reconsider what I’m about to do, but he seems pretty harmless and ridiculously hammered, so he shouldn’t pose a threat. I’m also trained in self-defense, which would fall under the by any means necessary umbrella. “Can I help?”

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2ZBt0RL

 About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy. 

 

Connect with Helena:
Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5
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Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/
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Sneak Peek: Making Up by Helena Hunting

Making Up, an all-new laugh-out-loud romantic comedy standalone from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming July 16th and we have a sneak peek!

Making Up_ebook.jpg

Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

MU - PO.jpg

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GEt63s

AppleBooks: Coming Soon!

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Excerpt from Chapter One

Sexy Suit

Cosy

Working in an adult toy store is the opposite of glamorous. Sure, I get a fifty-percent discount, which is a real perk, but it doesn’t offset some of the weirdness I have to deal with. Such as Eugene, one of the locals who frequents the shop on a regular basis. He came in this morning and handled all the display toys. He’s mostly harmless, but the silicone fondling is pretty high on the creepy factor. Eventually I told him I had to close up for a few minutes so I could grab lunch. The deli across the street has the best daily specials.

While I wait for my chicken shawarma, I make a mental list of all the things I need to do this afternoon: check the magazines to make sure the pages aren’t stuck together, restock the flavored lube, and wipe down everything Eugene molested with toy cleaner. Once I’ve tackled those less-than-fun chores, I can work on my assignment for my hospitality class, provided I don’t have real customers.

I glance out the window, checking to make sure Eugene isn’t loitering around in front of the store, waiting to be let back in. Sometimes he’ll stop by more than once during my shift. He’s not there—thank God—but there’s a black sports car parked in the lot. It looks nice and possibly expensive, which might mean an actual customer who will spend money.

Loki, the cashier at the deli, hands me my drinks and shawarma.

“Thanks! Have a great day!”

“You too,” Loki says to my chest.

As I leave the store, I see a man in a suit reading the sign I taped to the door. I don’t want to miss a potential customer, so I take a deep breath and mentally shift gears, putting on my best sales-person mask. I have to pretend to be a completely different person when I deal with customers, so I can get through what would otherwise be a fairly embarrassing event. Discussing the ins and outs of sex toys with strangers is not something I particularly enjoy, but it’s a paycheck, so I’ve learned to roll with it.

My root beer foams and drips down the straw while my coffee sloshes onto my hand—the lids never fit right—and my chicken shawarma dangles perilously between my pinkie and ring finger as I cross the street.

The suit doesn’t look creepy like Eugene, but then, suits can be deceiving. Half the time they think they can proposition me like a sex worker. Or they pretend the weird stuff they’re buying is a gift and not for them. Pfft. I know better.

Suit turns and heads for his car, so I call out, “Hey! You in the suit, hold on!”

His shoulders hunch, as if he’s trying to be smaller, which is physically impossible. Based on the size of him, he probably played college football. Or he has Marvel comic hero blood relatives. Either way, he’s a big dude.

He stops walking, though, which is good. I could use some sales today. The commission boost is always a plus to the shitty minimum wage. Rent is due next week, and judging by his car, he has money to burn.

My heels are skyscrapers, and everything I’m wearing is either too short or too tight to facilitate running—the Sex Toy Warehouse uniform is supposed to be sexy, aka revealing—so I awkwardly jog the rest of the way while trying to get the key to the shop out of my pocket and not drop my shawarma. The manager gave me my own set since I frequently open the store.

“Sorry to keep you waiting; plastic dicks don’t quite cut it for lunch.” Inwardly I cringe, because seriously, why did I say that?

“I would imagine they’re not all that satisfying,” he replies in a deep voice that would probably sound good whispering naughty things in my ear.

I’m not sure if he meant that suggestively or not. Regardless, I walked right into that one.

I finally look up. Dear sweet Jesus on a cloud of marshmallows, this is my lucky day. The suit is gorgeous. Like the kind of hotness that sucks the breath right out of your lungs and sends all the blood in your body rushing between your legs. It’s a good thing clits don’t react like penises, otherwise mine would be hanging out of the bottom of my shorts with excitement. I’m thankful my physical reaction is limited to damp underwear and tingles.

His dark hair is straight and cut short, parted at the side and neatly styled. He’s a cross between a mobster, and a fifties movie star. Capone and Ward Cleaver rolled together and dipped in lust. His nose is straight, lips are full, and he’s got a chin that looks like it could cut glass. His features are strong, but he somehow manages to be boyish even though everything about him screams pure, undiluted masculinity.

His tongue drags across his pillowy bottom lip and his throat bobs. I lift my gaze and meet his eyes. They’re a strange color. Not brown, not green, but some kind of honey-lemon color, ringed in emerald. Like a cat maybe.

Read the rest of Chapter One: http://bit.ly/2KO3Mf6

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting

Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5

Facebook Fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/385795934890523/

Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

 

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Cover Reveal: A Lie for a Lie by Helena Hunting

From the New York Times bestselling author of the Pucked series comes a romantic comedy about instant attraction, second chances, and not-so-little white lies.

A Lie for a Lie from New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting is coming October 15th, and we have the sexy cover!

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Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a monthlong sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.

A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

A LIE FOR A LIE FB.jpg

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KeBlqZ

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ALieforLie

Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2MTMWOC

Audio: https://amzn.to/2KM4CZF

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2MJpbIG

Photography by Regina Wamba

Model: Robb

About Helena Hunting

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Connect with Helena

Instagram: http://instagram.com/helenahunting

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenaHunting

Facebook: http://on.fb.me/Zt1xm5

Facebook Fan group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/385795934890523/

Website: http://www.helenahunting.com/

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Cover Reveal: Instant Gratification by Lauren Blakely

 

INSTANT GRATIFICATION by Lauren Blakely

Release Date: September 3rd

Cover Designer: Helen Williams

 

Add to Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45441933-instant-gratification

 

 

 

PRE-ORDER TODAY!

✦Kindle ➜ https://blkly.pub/InstantKindle

✦Apple Books ➜ https://blkly.pub/AppleInstant

✦Kobo ➜ https://blkly.pub/KoboInstant

✦Nook ➜ https://blkly.pub/NookInstant

✦Google Play ➜ https://blkly.pub/GoogleInstant

✦Paperback ➜ https://amzn.to/2VZ98Ks

Audiobook preorder coming in late July

Sign up here to receive an alert for it: http://www.subscribepage.com/LaurenAudio)

The cast for this full-cast audiobook will be announced on May 24th! Stay tuned!

 

 

Blurb:

Snagging a date? Not a problem. But one that meets my special requirements?

As the premier best-man-for hire in all of Manhattan, I promise discretion, so when I need a plus one for a couple of “I dos,” she needs to be A-Plus in reliability. Fortunately, I have a brilliant solution in asking my best friend’s sister to go on my arm. Truly is my good friend, too, and I trust her completely.

Just look how discreet she’s been about the time we spent the night together. But, it was only once, and it was months ago. We’ve been the souls of restraint ever since. I’m sure we can make it through these weddings without banging each other in the limo. Probably.

Plus, she needs my help with a business proposal. A little I’ll-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine doesn’t have to lead to the bedroom, right?

Good thing we know our way around the friend zone. The treacherous, torturous all-too-easy to slide out of friend zone…

Instant Gratification is told from the hero’s POV, so if you loved Big Rock, Mister O, or Full Package, you’ll devour this new standalone rom-com!

 

 

About the Author:

A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’ssweet, sexy and witty. Her heroines are strong and smart and her heroes have hearts of gold and fantastic funny bones. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 100 times, and she’s sold more than 3 million books.

In June she’ll release SATISFACTION GUARANTEED and in September INSTANT GRATIFICATION.

She’d love to give you a free book today! Check out her web site to grab your free read: laurenblakely.com/one-free-book/

 

 

Connect w/Lauren:

Website: http://www.laurenblakely.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LaurenBlakely3

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

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lauren-blakely

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2YzfGNv

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6860216.Lauren_Blakely

 

 

New Release: Well Suited by Staci Hart

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Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is available now!

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Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.

Who: one night stand.

How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2V07dpi

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WellSuitedSH

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JjTzbd

About the Author

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Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

 

Pre-Order Alert: Well Suited by Staci Hart

Well Suited Pre-Order2

✮ ✮ ✮ HOT New Pre-order Alert! ✮ ✮ ✮

Chemistry is my love language.

Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is coming May 2nd and is available for pre-order now!

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2V07dpi

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WellSuitedSH

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.

Who: one night stand.

How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

insta-preorder

Cover Reveal: Well Suited by Staci Hart

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Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is coming May 2nd and we have the beautiful cover for you!

well-suited-illustrated-sm.jpg

Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.

Who: one night stand.

How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

fb-coverreveal-sq.jpg

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JjTzbd

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

AuthorPics.jpg

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

 

Cover Reveal: The Feel Good Factor by Lauren Blakely

 

That inked bad boy who’s been striking sparks with me since he rode into town? Turns out he’s my new housemate, which adds up to a super-complicated living situation and chemistry so hot it should be illegal.

THE FEEL GOOD FACTOR, a sexy new standalone romance from #1 New York Times bestselling author Lauren Blakely, will be releasing on March 25, 2019 on all retailers! A roommates-to-lovers romantic comedy, don’t miss the stunning cover below, and pre-order your copy today!

 

Photography by Wong Sim.

Model is Sahib Faber.

Cover Design by Helen Williams.

About THE FEEL GOOD FACTOR (Coming 3/25/2019):

I have a fantastic family, great best friends, a job I love…and now I’m up for a promotion to police sergeant. I need total focus—not a flirty, dirty, irresistible, tattooed hottie riding into my town on his motorcycle. Can I arrest him for being too good-looking? When he kisses me senseless in the back of a waffle truck, it’s criminal, the things he makes me think about hot syrup and melted butter. One order of hot, fluffy hookup to go, please.

But the next time I see him, it’s not for our date with benefits. He’s the guy who just rented the room above my garage.

I need the rent to pay my bills, not a man like Derek, who I soon discover to be strong, caring, generous, good with kids, and kind to puppies… If I’m not careful, he’ll be moving into my heart as well as my house.

***

A no-strings-attached fling with the fiery redhead who revs my engine? Why, yes, that does sound like a delicious perk of my new job in this new town, thank you very much. I’m coming off a bad relationship, and I have zero interest in anything serious. I’ve got all the serious I need helping my sister take care of her three little kids while her husband is deployed.

Except, surprise! Perri isn’t just my future fling. Turns out she’s my sexy, sassy landlord.

A lease definitely counts as “strings attached,” and as much as I’d like to get tangled in her sheets, I can’t let myself get tangled up in a relationship.

But as soon as we put the cuffs on our escapades, I learn over late-night conversations in the kitchen, that my landlord is so much more than the sexiest woman I’ve ever met– she has a quick mind and the biggest heart.

Once I’m in, I’m all in. And to convince her that we should see where this goes, I plan on turning up the heat—and not just in the kitchen.

 

 

PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

✦Amazon PB ➜ http://blkly.pub/AmazonFG

✦Apple Books ➜ http://blkly.pub/AppleFeelgood

✦Kobo ➜ http://blkly.pub/KoboFeelGood

✦Nook ➜ http://blkly.pub/NookFeelGood

✦Google Play ➜ http://blkly.pub/GoogleFeelGood

✦Kindle LIVE alert (via Lauren’s newsletter) ➜ https://laurenblakely.com/newsletter

✦Goodreads ➜ http://blkly.pub/GoodreadsFeelGood

 

 

 

 


Love Audio Books? Get ready for one amazing listen with two Audie-nominated romance narrators!

Joe Arden and Erin Mallon team up to bring you Lauren’s latest standalone rom-com The Feel Good Factor!

And that’s not all! This audiobook also includes the bonus short story, STRONG SUIT!

Get the latest audio news from Lauren Blakely here: http://www.subscribepage.com/LaurenAudio


 

About Lauren Blakely:

A #1 New York Times Bestselling and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sweet, sexy and witty. Her heroines are strong and smart and her heroes have hearts of gold and fantastic funny bones. She lives in California with her family, including her smoking hot and hilarious husband and her two brilliant and kind children. She has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs — she might have four dogs, or maybe five. If she’s lucky, she’ll soon have six dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 100 times, and she’s sold more than 3 million books. In February she’ll release BEST LAID PLANS, in March THE FEEL GOOD FACTOR, and in May THE DATING PROPOSAL. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter

 

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

 

Now Available: Work in Progress by Staci Hart

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Her fake husband is a Work In Progress…

Work in Progress, an all-new romantic comedy from Staci Hart, is available now!

*** READ MY FIVE STAR REVIEW HERE ***

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I never thought my first kiss would be on my wedding day.

But here I stand, clutching a bouquet of pale pink roses behind the doors of a Las Vegas chapel, and at the end of the aisle is the absolute last man I imagined would be waiting for me.

Thomas Bane.

Bestselling author. Notorious bad boy. Savagely handsome, dark as sin, chiseled as stone. And somehow, my soon-to-be husband.

Marry him, and I’ll land my dream job. Save him, and I’ll walk away with everything I’ve ever wanted. All I have to do is remember it’s all for show. None of it is real, no matter how real it feels.

But first, I have to survive the kiss.

And with lips like his, my heart doesn’t stand a chance.

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DmTuOU

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WorkinProgress

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2QvdaTV

Excerpt:

The hall bathroom door opened, consequently stopping the earth’s orbit and flinging me into space for lack of gravity.

Thomas Bane stepped out of the doorway in slow motion, propelled by a cloud of steam that licked at his glistening body like it wanted to taste him. His hair was black, wet, curling and dripping in rivulets down the planes and valleys of his expansive chest and abs and narrow hips. He had that thing, the trough of muscle bracketing his hips that caught sluicing water and carried it in an angle that would eventually reach that unknown terrain beneath his towel. I saw the ghost of that terrain, the long, cylindrical bulge that was substantial enough to clearly state its presence, even through the thick towel.

He smirked, dragging his hand through his wet hair. I salivated, watching droplets of water roll down his forearm and collect on the tip of his erotic elbow.

“You’re up,” he said.

I blinked, not knowing when I’d set my coffee down or how many minutes—hours? years?—had passed in the time I spent ogling his body.

He sauntered into the room like he wasn’t basically naked. I tried unsuccessfully not to stare at his knees, the place where his ropy thigh connected, the angular muscles of his calves, the curve of his ankle, the broad pad of his foot.

He was perfectly proportioned. Michelangelo would have carved him twenty feet tall, and women would have worshipped at his perfect feet.

Gus bounced when he saw Tommy, his toys forgotten. And when Gus took off running, Tommy stopped, eyes widening and hands splayed in front of him.

“Gus, no,” he commanded.

To no one’s surprise, Gus did not listen. He barked once, snagged the hem of Tommy’s towel, and whipped it off him in a single tug that exposed every inch of skin on Thomas Bane’s ridiculous body.

Thank God my coffee was already on the counter. I’d have gotten third-degree burns.

For a split second, Tommy was frozen there in all his natural glory, poised to run after his dog, his face drawn and eyes locked on the sweet, disobedient dog. He wasn’t paying any attention to me.

I, however, gave him my full and undivided consideration.

His thighs were a mass of muscle so hard and defined, the tops were planes that came to a notch at his knee and a point where it met his hip. My eyes caught that trough that had before disappeared and followed it where it pointed—straight to the thatch of dark hair and the member nestled there.

The very thick, very long, mostly limp member.

If I stared at it a second longer, I was going to faint—my vision was already dim, my pulse pumping so hard, I could feel it in my neck, at the back of which a cold sweat had broken.

But he shifted to run after Gus, who was galloping away, trailing the towel behind him.

“Dammit, Gus! Gimme that!”

Then it was the back of him I saw, his hair, the streaming water rolling down all the curves of his shoulders, his back, the valley of his spine, and down to the most perfect ass I’d ever seen in real life.

Well, the only ass I’d ever seen in real life that wasn’t my own, and even that I couldn’t get a good look at without a mirror.

Seriously, that ass. That perfectly sculpted ass, round and tight and curved in the sides, shifting from one side to the other as he ran after the damn dog. My gaze caught a tattoo on one ass cheek, and I squinted at it, trying to make it out.

Tommy bent to snag the end of the towel—I caught sight of his sack and almost dissolved through the floor in an acidic puddle of embarrassment—but when he pulled, Gus spun around, ass in the air and tail wagging as he growled, pulling back.

A string of obscenities left Tommy’s mouth, but I was still gaping and staring at his ass. I realized that I was laughing. It sounded like someone else in a different room.

I wondered absently if this was how it felt to have a stroke.

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

StaciHart.jpg

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

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

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/