December 5, 2016
Womanizer by Katy Evans
Release Date: December 5th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Evans comes a brand new contemporary romance. WOMANIZER is a full length standalone, and no other books in the series need to be read.
You've seen the headlines: Womanizing billionaire player! Watch out! Stay away!
We were just two strangers. Facing a forbidden attraction, a chemical connection. Neither of us expected or wanted it to amount to more.
But I had never been drawn to a guy the way I was drawn to this one: my brother's best friend, and CEO of the company where I interned.
Even knowing I should stay away, I proved to be too human, after all.
The chemistry was amazing.
The laughs were incredible.
I opened up to him in more ways than I'd opened up to anyone before.
But sex was as far as I'd go.
Just sex because he was too irresistible.
Just sex because I wouldn't be falling for him.
Just sex because I'd leave in three months, and I'd like for my brother not to kill me, and for nobody to find out he was my wicked little secret.
He wasn't the One.
He was just a womanizer.
But for a time, he would be mine.
About the Author
Katy Evans is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Her debut REAL shot to the top of the bestselling lists in 2013 and since then 9 of her titles have been New York Times bestsellers. Her books have been translated into nearly a dozen languages across the world.
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November 30, 2016
Author: Tessa Bailey
Series: Romancing The Clarksons, #1
On Sale: November 29, 2016
Mass Market: $5.99 USD
eBook: $2.99 USD
Previously released as an eBook in May 2016, the first book in Tessa Bailey’s Romancing the Clarksons series is now available in print for the first time!
When rescue looks like a whole lot of trouble . . .
The road trip was definitely a bad idea. Having already flambéed her culinary career beyond recognition, Rita Clarkson is now stranded in God-Knows-Where, New Mexico, with a busted-ass car and her three temperamental siblings, who she hasn't seen in years. When rescue shows up—six-feet-plus of hot, charming sex on a motorcycle—Rita's pretty certain she's gone from the frying pan right into the fire . . .
Jasper Ellis has a bad boy reputation in this town, and he loathes it. The moment he sees Rita, though, Jasper knows he's about to be sorely tempted. There's something real between them. Something raw. And Jasper has only a few days to show Rita that he isn't just for tonight—he's forever.
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THE ROMANCING THE CLARKSONS SERIES
Too Hot To Handle, #1
Too Wild To Tame, #2
Too Hard To Forget, #3
“So.” He plunked his beer down on the bar. “Where were you four headed in that big, rusty Suburban before Hurley reeled you in?”
She looked pensive as her shit-stomping boots started to sway back and forth, bumping the wooden rungs of the stool. “We need to be in Coney Island by New Year’s Day. So we can jump into the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Why—what?” He dropped onto the stool beside her, his drink forgotten on the bar. “That’s pretty high on the list of things I didn’t expect.”
“Oh, I know the feeling.” A beat passed. “It was our mother’s last wish.”
She nodded, brushing her hair back in a jerky motion, as if she were uncomfortable having someone’s undivided attention. He’d never had cause to use the word preposterous before, but that was the only way he could describe her lack of confidence. Despite the inappropriate name, the Liquor Hole was his life’s work, and, at the moment, it was nothing more than an unworthy backdrop for Rita. And, God, he was staring at her hands like an aggressive palm reader. “Most mothers want to avoid having their children turn into floating ice sculptures. What was her reason?”
“Good question.” A hint of sadness winked in her eyes, and Jasper wished he’d let the subject drop. This was what happened when he avoided talking about sex. He stumbled right into deceased parents. And yet he wasn’t sorry. Not even a little bit. He wanted to know everything. “I think…she meant it as some sort of symbolic bonding experiment. But I don’t know. We’re kind of unbondable.”
“Got the feeling I interrupted a near-melee this afternoon.”
“Aaron called my soufflé decent.” A strand of dark hair caught on her lips when she shook her head. It took one hundred percent of his impulse control not to tug it away, but she beat him to it, anyhow. “It sounds silly now.”
“Nah.” Jasper couldn’t help leaning in to get a whiff of cooking spices. “He would have had it coming just for dressing like a preacher on a weekday.”
Another one of those quiet, smoky laughs. “I guess there’s a fine line between politician and preacher.”
“Politician?” Jasper shivered, then recalled the threat Rita’s brother had leveled at his head back on the highway. “Still, I can’t help but like him for wanting you safe from a stranger. He can’t be all that bad if he worries about you.”
“Worried might be an exaggeration,” Rita said.
When her golden-brown gaze lit on his mouth, Jasper realized he’d moved into her personal space without any conscious thought. One of her knees brushed the denim covering his hip and, God help him, if the bar were empty he would’ve been between her split thighs before she could call for Jesus. For someone who hadn’t felt more than a passing appreciation for the opposite sex in years, his libido was sure trying to play catch-up tonight.
“What are you thinking about?”
Lie. He had to lie. I want to strip you down and fuck you on this seat, but I’m trying my hand at being a gentleman, was not an acceptable line. It was too aggressive when she seemed spooked merely from his close proximity. But she was leaving, leaving his town tomorrow, and the slow-game option had been ambitious for Jasper when he knew nothing about it. So he’d tell the truth while leaving out the oh-so-dirty reality in his pants. “I was thinking it would have been a goddamn shame if you’d broken down one town over.” His voice was gravel, so he cleared it. “More than a shame. I’m kind of finding it hard to think about, if you want to know the truth.”
For long moments, he couldn’t hear a single sound in the loud bar. No music, no crunching ice or raucous laughter. And, somehow, he knew she couldn’t hear the noise, either. It was there in the perplexity of her expression. He expected her to call bullshit or make a joke, but she didn’t. She shocked him instead.
“I’ll think I’ll take that kiss now.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans, and laptop, and drove cross-country to New York City in under four days. Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend, and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband and daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
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November 4, 2016
A sparkling new series about a rogue who must learn how to follow the rules and a woman who wants to break all of them.
RULES FOR A ROGUE
Romancing the Rules #1
Releasing Nov 1st, 2016
From the USA Today bestselling author of ONE DANGEROUS DESIRE comes a sparkling new series about a rogue who must learn how to follow the rules and a woman who wants to break all of them, perfect for fans of Maya Rodale and Lorraine Heath.
Kit Ruthven's Rules (for Rogues)
#1 Love freely but guard your heart, no matter how tempting the invader.
#2 Embrace temptation, indulge your sensual impulses, and never apologize.
#3 Scorn rules and do as you please. You are a rogue, after all.
Following the rules never brought anything but misery for Christopher “Kit” Ruthven. After rebelling against his controlling father and leaving the family’s Ruthven Rules etiquette book empire behind, Kit has been breaking every one imaginable for the past six years. He’s enjoyed London’s sensual pleasures and secured his reputation as a Rogue, but he’s failed to achieve success. When he inherits his father’s publishing business, Kit is forced back into the life he never wanted. Worse, he must face Ophelia Marsden, the woman he jilted but never forgot.
After losing her father and refusing a loveless marriage proposal, Ophelia has learned to rely on herself. To maintain the family home and support her younger brother, she tutors young girls in deportment and decorum. But her pupils would be scandalized if they knew their imminently proper teacher was also the author of a guidebook encouraging ladies to embrace their independence and overthrow outdated notions of etiquette like the Ruthven Rules.
As Kit rediscovers the life, and the woman, he left behind, Ophelia must choose between the practicalities she never truly believed in, or the love she’s never been able to extinguish.
Before Ophelia could gather her sister and head back to the kitchen, a knock sounded at the front door. Juliet clutched her notebook to her chest and bolted back into the library. Slipping Guidelines behind her back with one hand, Ophelia grasped the doorknob with the other. She schooled her features into a pleasant expression in case it was Mrs. Raybourn or, heaven forbid, Mr. Raybourn, in need of more reassurance their girls weren’t on the high road to ruin because of the book no one knew she’d written. When she pulled the door open, all the breath whooshed from her body.
Their visitor wasn’t any member of the Raybourn family.
“You remember me, then?” He grinned as he loomed on the threshold, his shoulders nearly as wide as the frame. Eyes bright and intense, he took her in from head to toe, and then let his gaze settle on her mouth. When he finally looked into her eyes, the cocksure tilt of his grin had softened. She read a wariness in his gaze that matched her own. She’d spent years trying to forget those dark, deep-set eyes. “I remember you.” Her book slipped, skidding across her backside and clattering to the floor as her throat tightened on sentiments she’d been waiting years to express. None of them would come. Not a single word. Instead, in outright rebellion, her whole body did its best to melt into a boneless puddle. Gritting her teeth, Phee fought the urge to swoon or, worse, rush into his long, muscled arms.
“I’m relieved to hear it.” He had the audacity to kick his grin into a smile, a rakish slash that cut deep divots into his clean-shaven cheeks. Then he took a step through her door. “I worried that—”
“No.” She lifted a hand to stop him. Looking at the man was difficult enough. Hearing his voice—deeper now but achingly familiar—was too much. If he came closer, she might give in to some rogue impulse. And that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.
Ophelia swallowed hard. She needed a moment to gather her wits. To rebuild her walls.
“You dropped something.” He moved toward her, so close his sleeve brushed hers.
She lowered her hand to avoid touching him and jerked back when he bent to retrieve her book, watching as he turned the volume to read its title.
“Miss Gilroy’s Guidelines for Young Ladies. How intriguing. Looks as though Ruthven Publishing has some competition.”
Seeing him again was worse than she’d imagined. And she had imagined this moment aplenty. Far too many times. Not just on her infrequent jaunts to London but most days since they’d parted. The man had lingered in her thoughts, despite every effort to expel him.
Taking a shaky breath, she braced herself and faced him.
He’d always been tall. When they were children, she’d looked up to him. Literally. But he’d never used his size to bully others. More often he’d born teasing about his physique. Ungainly, his father had called him, and Kit repeated the word when referring to himself.
Now he offered no apologetic hunch in his stance. He didn’t cross his arms to narrow his body. More than embracing his size, he wielded his generous dimensions with a virile grace that made Phee’s mouth water. He stood with his long legs planted wide, shoulders thrown back. His chest was so broad that she itched to touch it.
Stop being a ninny, she chided herself. The most essential observation was that he did not look like a man who’d pined for her. Not a hint of guilt shadowed his gaze.
He thrust his hands behind his back, and the buttons above his waistcoat strained against the fabric on either side, as if the muscles beneath were too sizable to contain. Phee’s gaze riveted to the spot, waiting to see which would win—the pearly buttons or the dove gray fabric. When sense finally wound its way into her boggled mind, she glanced up into gilded brown eyes. He was the winner, judging by the satisfied smirk cresting his mouth.
Kit stood too near, close enough for her to smell his scent. A familiar green, like fresh-cut grass, but mingled now with an aromatic spice. Each breath held his spice scent heightened by the warmth of his body. The heat of him radiated against her chest.
His eyes were too intense, too hungry. He perused her brazenly, studying the hem of her outdated gown before his gaze roved up her legs, paused at her waist, lingered on her bosom, and caught for a moment on her lips. Finally, he met her eyes, and his mouth flicked up in a shameless grin.
She looked anywhere but at his eyes. On his neck, she noted the scar from a childhood adventure in the blackberry briar. Then she got stuck admiring his hair. Apparently his scandalous London lifestyle—if the rumors she’d heard were true—called for allowing his jet black hair to grow long and ripple in careless waves. Strands licked at his neck, curled up near his shoulders.
Time had been truly unfair. The years hadn’t weathered Kit at all. If anything, his features were sharper and more appealing. His Roman nose contrasted with the sensual fullness of his lips and those high Ruthven cheekbones. And his eyes. Gold and amber and chocolate hues chased each other around a pinwheel, all shadowed by enviably thick ebony lashes. One theater reviewer had written of the “power of his penetrating gaze.”
Ophelia only knew he’d once been able to see straight to her heart.
Retreating from his magnetic pull, she dipped her head and stared at his polished black boots, the neatly tailored cuffs of his trousers. Black as pitch, his clothing reminded her why he was here. He’d come to the village to bury his father. He was no doubt as eager to return to London as she was to close her eyes and make the too tempting sight of him disappear. But why had he come to her home?
“My condolences to you and your sisters,” she offered, and almost added Mr. Ruthven. That’s what everyone in the village would call him now, and they would expect him to live up to the name. Just as his father had.
“You didn’t attend the funeral.”
“Would your father have wished me to?” They both knew Kit’s father had never welcomed her presence in his life. She didn’t bother mentioning that Ruthven’s rule book explicitly instructed ladies to avoid funerals.
He shrugged. “I only know what I wished.”
There it was. The heart of all that had passed between them spelled out in six words. Kit had never doubted what he wanted—freedom, fame as a playwright, financial success on his own terms. Unfortunately, she’d never made it high enough on his list.
“Forgive me for missing your father’s funeral. I promise to call on your sisters soon.” Ophelia slid the door toward him, forcing him to retreat as she eased it closed. “Thank you for your visit.”
Pushing his sizable booted foot forward, he wedged it between the door and its frame. “I don’t think we can count this as a visit until you invite me in.”
Fueled by Pacific Northwest coffee and inspired by multiple viewings of every British costume drama she can get her hands on, Christy Carlyle writes sensual historical romance set in the Victorian era. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines who are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there’s nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with a die-hard belief in happy endings.a Rafflecopter giveaway
October 31, 2016
Series: Harmony Harbor, #1
On Sale: October 25, 2016
Mass Market: $5.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD
The first novel in a brand new series from USA Today bestselling author Debbie Mason! The series will appeal to fans of feel-good romances by New York Times bestselling authors Brenda Novak, Robyn Carr, and RaeAnne Thayne.
'Tis the season for love…
Sophie DiRossi loved growing up in Harmony Harbor. But after fleeing in disgrace many years ago, it is the last place she wants to be. Left homeless by a fire, she's forced to go back to the small coastal town that harbors a million secrets, including her own. Sophie sees this secret reflected every day in her daughter's blue eyes—and she must keep it hidden from the only man she has ever loved.
Sophie's return is a shock for everyone…especially Liam Gallagher. The firefighter had some serious feelings for Sophie-and seeing her again sparks a desire so fierce it takes his breath away. Now Liam will do whatever it takes to show Sophie that they deserve a second chance at love, even if everything they've concealed threatens to keep them apart. In this special town at this special time of the year, Sophie and Liam can only hope for a little holiday magic...
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THE HARMONY HARBOR SERIES
MISTLETOE COTTAGE, #1
CHRISTMAS WITH AN ANGEL, #1.5
STARLIGHT BRIDGE, #2
PRIMROSE LANE, #3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Debbie Mason is the USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, their four wonderful children, an adorable grandbaby, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella.
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October 6, 2016
On Sale: October 4, 2016
Trade Paperback: $14.99 USD
eBook: $3.99 USD
Fate. Hate. Love. Lies. Which four letter word will change their lives forever?
Sydney Paige was never so mortified to hear the words "wrong number" in her life. She meant to tell off the guy who broke her best friend's heart, but unleashed her anger on a perfect stranger instead. And now her world is turned upside down by the captivating man who wants to keep her on the line.
Brian Savage is living a life he's quickly come to hate—until Sydney's wild rant has him hooked and hungry for more. Soon the sexy woman on the phone becomes the lover in his bed. But Brian has secrets, and the closer he lets Syd get, the harder it is to shield her from the devastating mistakes of his past . . .
I’d been in Dogwood a month and had been down to the ocean only once. Insane, right? I lived at the beach and I wasn’t experiencing it.
It hadn’t been a priority, and honestly, I didn’t have a lot of free time on my hands.
When I wasn’t picking up shifts at Whitecaps, I was talking on the phone to Brian, shut up in my room or doing it lying on the couch if Tori wasn’t home.
Now I wasn’t shut up in my room or lying on the couch, quilt-covered and heart-shattered. I was no longer talking on the phone to Brian and I wanted to see the ocean. I wanted to feel the sand beneath my feet and skim the waves with my hand.
I had tons of free time tonight while Tori got laid. Might as well make the most of it.
I took the stairs down a level and stepped out beneath the deck.
A couple was sitting on a hammock going at it like their boat was sinking, sloppy-suctioning kisses and need-filled moans spilling into the air.
There had to be a handful of empty rooms in that house. They couldn’t pick one and save me the surround sound?
I followed the sand-covered path down the beach, taking small sips of my daiquiri as I went. Deep voices grew louder the closer I got to the water. I wasn’t paying much attention to them. I was looking ahead and forward to feeling the temperature of the ocean and maybe even finding a couple of pretty shells when the voices grew loud enough to hear clearly.
That’s when it happened.
I stopped, feet frozen and ears alert when one of the voices not only grew loud enough to focus on but also registered in my mind as a voice I’d possibly heard before.
“Don’t know why I gotta keep repeating myself. It wasn’t like that,” the man said, sounding irritated. “She was sweet and good to talk to. Funny and cute about shit. Real cute. The fact that she was also a stunner didn’t surprise me. I heard it in her voice. But for the last fuckin’ time, and I mean this, I’m not saying it again, that’s not what got me. I was fucked before I even saw her picture.”
“You saying you were gone for a girl you never fucking met, Brian? Not possible,” the other guy replied.
I sucked in a breath.
A phantom heartbeat fluttered in my chest.
With gentle steps, I moved closer to the voices, reached the end of the path, and peeked around an overgrown bush, spotting the two men standing on the beach.
I watched the one guy, taller than the other, who had his back to me, cross his arms over his chest and say to his friend, “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You talk to Sydney one fuckin’ time and you’ll know where I’m coming from. It was that fuckin’ good.”
I squeaked then. Not a gasp but a squeak I tried to conceal with a quick hand to my mouth, cup hitting the sand, but it was too late.
They both heard it.
Two pairs of eyes sliced in my direction. I stared back at the one pair coming from the one voice I knew, in my blood and my bones and the breath filling me, I knew that voice and the man it belonged to.
He stared back, eyes narrowing to focus better, focusing enough to make me out where I stood then going round and filling with surprise.
Pain lanced through me.
I wanted to run. To him or away, I didn’t know which urge was stronger, and it felt like I was being pulled in both directions by forces I couldn’t fight so I stood there, staring back as my hand uncovered my mouth and skimmed my throat.
He was moving before I spoke, long legs closing in fast, and before I could blink, he was right in front of me, close enough to smell and feel if my eyes were closed but I definitely couldn’t test that theory right now.
I stared unconsciously into his face, tilting my head back to do so and taking in every inch of him.
Dark hair buzzed close to his scalp, thick eyebrows and deep green eyes, several days’ worth of stubble coating his jaw, which appeared sharp beneath it and full, perfect lips, parted as he breathed slow and heavily.
I knew he was.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “It’s you.”
He blinked, breath shuddering.
“You recognize me?” he asked.
I bit my lip to suppress a moan because, God, that voice. It melted my insides when it sweetly assaulted my ears and turned my bones to jelly. It always had but now, seeing the man behind it and the mouth responsible for it, watching it shape and twist those words so perfectly, I was done.
I blinked when he stepped closer.
“Syd,” he pressed, eyes desperate as they searched mine.
“Holy shit. Are you the girl?”
The other man moved beside us and slapped his hand against Brian’s back, who was keeping his eyes focused on me.
I looked to the friend and recognized Exhibit A from Whitecaps, who I now knew went by Cole.
“Uh,” I answered.
I was in shock. Was he expecting me to speak?
Cole grinned. “Small world,” he chuckled, looking between us. “Small fucking world. I’ll leave you two alone since you probably have a lot to talk about.”
He gave me a wink then shuffled past me and disappeared down the path, doing just that. Leaving us alone.
I was alone…with Brian.
Oh…God. Now what?
I looked up and met pleading greens, filled with desperation I could feel against my skin.
Questions and confusion swirled in my brain. My stomach was doing nothing but flips and excited little twists.
It was Brian. My body knew Brian and it was acting up impulsively, reacting to that smooth familiar voice and more, and when he reached out and held my face, thumb sweeping over my cheek as his lips whispered, “Wild,” soft and ache-filled, I stopped thinking and feeling altogether and sprang, launching myself at him and into his arms, which curled instantly around me, drawing me nearer and higher until our mouths met in a kiss that hurt and healed so deeply my soul cried out.
Knew it would be.
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Listen to two clips from the audiobook from FOUR LETTER WORD, narrated by Sebastian York and Kate Russell!!!!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. Daniels is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sweet Addiction series and the Alabama Summer series. She loves curling up with a good book, drinking a ridiculous amount of coffee, and writing stories her children will never read. Daniels grew up in Baltimore and resides in Maryland with her family.
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