REVIEW & NEW RELEASE: Big Badd Wolf (Badd Brothers #7) by Jasinda Wilder

Lucian Badd saved my life. He jumped into the freezing water of the Ketchikan harbor after I fell in. He took me to his room, stripped my wet clothes off, and wrapped me in a warm blanket. 

That should have been it. I should have hit the road as soon as I could, because I’m a vagabond, a drifter. A homeless orphan with no family and no future except what I create for myself. Which is why getting tangled up with a guy—no matter how tall, dark, quiet, and sexy he may be—is a really terrible idea.

Yet…I kissed him anyway. And that one kiss? It set my world on fire, turned everything upside down. 

I know I shouldn’t get involved with him. I tell myself I won’t. Yet, I still get pulled in by him and his seven brothers and their wives and girlfriends—by the concept of family, something I haven’t had in a very, very long time. Something I never thought I’d have again. 

Every moment I spend with Lucian turns my present into perfect, and puts my future at risk. 

* * * 

As the second youngest Badd brother, I’ve lived my entire life in the long, broad shadows cast by my older brothers—the burly, bad boy bartender, the Navy SEAL, the trick pilot, the athlete, and the rock star twins. Even my younger brother, Xavier, finds a way to outshine everyone in the room with his unassuming charisma and dizzying intellect. More and more lately, I’ve been asking myself where I fit in.

And then Joss Mackenzie fell into the Inside Passage in the middle of a freak snowstorm, and in so doing, fell into my life. I saved her from the icy water, but can I can I save myself from falling for a girl I know is only going to end up doing the one thing she does best—leave? 

It’s evident from the first kiss what the answer is—there’s no saving myself, not from the magnetic appeal of her wild, untamable spirit, or the exotic allure of her caramel skin and long dreadlocks and golden-brown eyes and perfect body. I’m helpless against this attraction.

But as I seek to find myself and my place among my larger-than-life brothers, will I lose my heart to the exotic beauty with walls a mile high and a tragic past?

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AMAZON

BARNES & NOBLE

IBOOKS

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Seriously?  Author Jasinda Wilder has yet done it again!  

I am in freaking love love love with another Badd Brother!

Just saying right now if I could clone myself, I would do it 7 times right now and be with every single one of these hot, delicious, vicariously gorgeous Badd men she has created.

Okay, so my cherries are cooling off from all the hotness of Lucian Badd.
He is out of all the brothers so far (we still get one more, Xaiver), the one I can relate to the most.

Yes, every raw emotion Lucian & Joss had in this book, it stuck to me hard because I felt as though I was them.

The not fitting in, the what if's, the silence, it all was very relatable to how many of us feel at times.

Lucian is such a loving bookworm and Joss is his equal.  Both Joss & Lucian are holding back with frustration that makes you want to slap some sense into them.  Especially Joss.  Once finding out why her past haunts her present makes you sympathize for her and fall hard for her too.

Lucian is a lonely lost soul in his crazy family and my heart wants him to find his happy.  

Joss literally falls into his life and shows him that focusing on what you want is key to finding his happiness, even if it means having to not be his introvert self anymore and opening up to the ones that love him, including himself.

And yes you will get all of the Badd Brothers making appearances in this story.

Go one click and get ready to go on another Badd adventure!

**ARC kindly provided in exchange for an honest review***

5 Cherries Popped

    

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New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, and internationally bestselling author Jasinda Wilder is a Michigan native with a penchant for titillating tales about sexy men and strong women. Her bestselling titles include Alpha, Stripped, Wounded, and the #1 Amazon.com and international bestseller Falling into You. You can find her on her farm in northern Michigan with her husband, author Jack Wilder, her six children, and a menagerie of animals.

RELEASE DAY BLITZ: Up in Smoke by T.M. Frazier

Up in Smoke, an all-new gritty standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author T.M. Frazier is LIVE!

I'm a man without a conscience.

I deal in murder and mayhem.

I'm the best at what I do.

Frankie Helburn is supposed to be an easy job.

A means to flush her father out of hiding.

Simple.

Except there isn't anything simple about Frankie or the secrets she's keeping.

She's cocaine with legs. I'm addicted before I've even had a taste.

I might have her, but I can't keep her.

But if her father doesn't show his face, Frankie will be mine.

To KILL.

*Can be read as a standalone.

Read Today!

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About the Author:

T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter. When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance. Well…it has a beach in it!

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REVIEW: Forget Me Not (The Unforgettable Duet #1) by Brooke Blaine

Experience the heartbreakingly beautiful journey of Ollie & Reid in…

Forget Me Not, the first all-new contemporary MM Romance in The Unforgettable Duet, from Brooke Blaine is available NOW!

Three sugars, two creamers.

That’s how you took your coffee every morning at Joe’s Grab ’N Go.

But you don’t remember that.

You don’t remember anything.

Anything, that is, except me…

That day…

And the tragedy that catapulted us together.

Read Today!

(Free in Kindle Unlimited)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2Cd3sOX

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/ForgetMeNotBB

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

CHAPTER ONE

“IT’S MONDAY, AND you know what that means,” Mike said as he cut off Big Bertha’s engine and looked over at me expectantly. I patted my pants pocket to make sure I’d shoved my wallet inside before we’d headed out this morning, and when I felt the outline of the trifold, I nodded. “Yep. Extra-bold coffee comin’ up.” As I popped open the passenger-side door, Mike’s hand landed firmly on my arm, halting me before I could get out of the ambulance, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. “It means don’t be a chickenshit, Ollie, that’s what it means.” Lifting my eyebrows, I glanced around, searching for whoever it was Mike thought he was talking to, and when he read my quizzical expression, he snorted. “Yeah, that means you,” he said. “You callin’ me out?” “Damn right I am.” I shook my head. “I’m not a chickenshit, and you know it.” Mike shrugged and let go of my arm. “Fine. Prove it.” “I can’t do that.” “You can. You just won’t.” Yeah, whatever, he had me there. Something always held me back from saying much more than hello to the guy in the fitted chinos and starched collared shirt and tie that I saw most mornings in the coffee aisle at Joe’s Grab ’N Go, and Mike never could resist an opportunity to rib me for it. I never should’ve told him about my crush in the first damn place, but being my best friend as well as my work partner meant we tended to overshare in the time between calls. “He’s straight, Mike. Leave it alone, huh?” “You don’t know that for sure.” I picked up a container of mints and shook a couple into my mouth before tossing it back in the console. “Trust me. I know.” “You ask him since the last time I saw you?” Rolling my eyes, I ignored his question and pushed open my door. “You want that coffee or not?” “Mhmm. The date for you, too.” “Jesus,” I muttered, slamming the door before he could make any other requests. I could hear him chuckling behind me as he got out to pump the gas. And out of the corner of my eye, a flash of red pulling into a parking spot had my heart beating a bit faster. It was ridiculous that I’d even wonder for a second if I’d see him, since hardly a weekday had gone by in four months when I hadn’t. But that flutter of anticipation still sent a thrill through me, the handful of minutes seeing him every morning the highlight of my day. That’s it. I need to get my damn life back. Working all these overtime shifts to pick up some extra cash over the holidays—and giving the guys with families some time off—had sent my extracurricular activities into a tailspin. If I didn’t get laid soon, I’d crash and burn. Or, worse, hit on the straight guy. “Hey, Ollie,” Mike called out, and I paused with my hand on the door to the Grab ’N Go before moving aside to let the woman behind me pass through. When I turned around, a mischievous grin played on his lips as he inserted the gas pump into Big Bertha’s tank and began to hip-thrust. Oh for the love of— “And while you’re at it, maybe grab me one of those apple fritters, would ya? And a soda for later?” So much for New Year’s resolutions, I thought. That had lasted less than a week. Not that I could blame him when it came to the tempting basket of freshly baked goods that sat by Joe’s register every morning—even I had a hard time passing on those. Still, Mike had wanted to lose the twenty pounds that had crept up since Halloween and made me swear I’d keep him in check. “You sure you wanna do that?” I asked. Mike looked pointedly over at the red Mazda3 and his smile grew. “Life’s too short to pass on the good stuff, wouldn’t you say?” That fucker. I shook my head and shot a glare his way, and then I went inside, determined now to buy out the apple fritters and personally stuff ’em down his meddling throat. “Morning, Oliver,” Joe greeted me from behind the counter where he was ringing up a customer, and I smiled his way before grabbing a handheld basket and heading down the aisle for Mike’s Sprite. I took the third bottle from the front—yeah, I never took the first one of anything—and laid it in the basket as the freezer door slapped shut behind me. I kept a tight grip on the handle as I took my time walking toward the far aisle, the anticipation building in my gut. Finally, I rounded the corner, and just as he was every day, Bluebird stood in front of the coffee station, refillable mug in hand and somehow looking more gorgeous than I remembered. My memory never did him justice. I didn’t move as he placed his mug beneath the machine’s spout and hit a button, and I knew exactly what he’d get, the same as every morning: a latte with light foam and three sugars, two creamers. Today he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a white button-down shirt and a midnight-blue tie—always so well put together, from his stylishly tousled dark brown hair, so dark it was almost black, down to his black loafers. A couple of days of stubble covered his usual freshly shaven jaw, and I imagined how it’d feel under my hands as I took either side of his face and pulled him toward mine— “Dammit!” Bluebird’s curse shook me out of my stupor as my feet managed to move again, and as I got closer, I saw that the usual brown liquid coming out of the machine was a cloudy white instead. He let out a frustrated sigh. “Hey, Joe,” he called out to the owner. “Latte machine’s down.” “Again?” Joe scratched his jaw and then said, “Sorry about that, Reid. I’ll get someone out to fix it today.” “No problem,” Reid replied, dumping out the hot water from his mug into the tray, and hello, I finally had a name to go with the face: Reid. How was it I’d gone so long without knowing? I pulled out a couple of large disposable cups from the rack and reached for the coffee pot at the same time as Reid, our fingers brushing each other ever so slightly before we both jerked back. His touch shot through me like an electric jolt to my heart, and the surprise that lit his eyes told me I wasn’t the only one affected. “Sorry,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “Damn static.” That wasn’t static, I thought, but I wasn’t about to enlighten him, so instead I gestured to the almost empty coffee pot. “No problem. Go for it.” “Oh…uh…” He glanced at how little was left and shook his head. “That’s okay. You were first.” “Nah, go ahead. Something tells me you need it more than I do.” “You sure?” Reid asked, his forehead creased like he didn’t want to impose, but I wouldn’t have minded him taking the last of the coffee every day, so long as those dark chocolate eyes of his stayed on me. “I insist,” I said, and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “Besides, I know where Joe keeps the spares. I’ll just make another pot.” A grateful smile lifted his lips. “Thanks.” Then he poured himself a full mug of coffee and scratched his jaw as he said, “Ever have one of those mornings?” “All the time.” Reid looked up at me, and then his eyes shifted down to my name and title patched in on my uniform. Oliver McFadden. Paramedic. “Yeah, of course you do. Paramedic, huh? I don’t know how you do it.” “Helps that we can filter caffeine through IVs for a quicker hit on bad days.” He laughed as he ripped open three sugar packets and dumped them into his drink. “I think I’m in the wrong field.” “What is it you do?” “I teach music education at Castle Hill.” “Middle schoolers?” I whistled. “I think I’ll stick with my job.” “I wouldn’t blame you some days. They’re mostly a good group, but man, there’s a few whose mission is to run off the new teachers.” “And you’re one of the new ones?” “Four months running.” He tossed the empty packets into the trash and then held his hand out to me. “I’m Reid, by the way.” I stared at his hand for a couple of heartbeats before taking it in mine. His long fingers were cool to the touch, unlike my perpetually hot ones. It could be negative fifty outside, and my hands would still be warm. “Ollie,” I said, and then shook my head slightly. “Well, Oliver, but everyone calls me Ollie.” “Ollie,” Reid repeated, still shaking my hand. “I’ve never met an Ollie before.” “Mom was a big fan of Laurel and Hardy. I’m just glad she didn’t go with Stan.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that was an unnecessary reference because he probably had no idea who the hell Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy were, but Reid surprised the hell out of me by laughing. “Your mom has good taste. I used to watch their stuff at my nan’s,” he said, and then let go of my hand. I missed the contact immediately. Before I could respond, Joe’s gnarled fingers clamped down on my arm as he hobbled in between us and hit the side of the latte machine with his cane. “I don’t think it’ll respond to a beat-down, Joe,” Reid said, as he stirred two creamers into his coffee. “Worked once before. By George, I’ll do it again.” As Joe whacked at the machine, Reid shook his head at the stubborn man. Then he capped his mug and smiled at me. “Thanks again, Ollie. I owe you one.” “Anytime,” I said, and meant it. “Hope your morning improves.” “I’m counting on it. Bye, Joe. I’ll leave the money on the counter.” Joe grumbled what sounded like a goodbye and kept fiddling with the latte machine as I rinsed out the coffee pot and started up a fresh brew. Two steaming mugs and a bag full of apple fritters later and I was climbing back into Big Bertha, still reeling from my run-in with Reid. It was so unlike me to moon over a guy, for fuck’s sake, but there was something about him that had caught my attention from day one and never let go. Today’s encounter had only served to pique my curiosity. I’d always thought him older, maybe mid- to late twenties, but he said he’d only been at Castle Hill for four months. Maybe that meant he was fresh out of college? Or could be he’d relocated from somewhere. Definitely somewhere still in the South, since he seemed to have the manner of someone who’d grown up with parents who drilled in the Yes, sirs and No, thank you, ma’ams so telling of this part of the country, though his accent didn’t betray much of a twang. “That has got to be the biggest, dumbest grin I’ve ever seen on your ugly mug,” Mike said, staring at me like I’d grown two heads. “Did you finally do it? Did you ask him out?” I tossed the bag of fritters and soda into Mike’s lap. “Feel free to choke on those.” “Ahh, I’m gonna take that as a yes, then. He shoot you down?” After setting the coffees in the console, I fastened my seatbelt and waited for Mike to get the hint we needed to get moving. “The hell, man?” he said. “You gonna leave me hangin’?” I arched my brow in his direction, and when I didn’t say anything, he gave a grunt and started up the rig. “One of these days, Ollie,” he grumbled, pulling out of the gas station. “You know all my personal shit. See if I spill my guts anymore.” “You wouldn’t know what to do if you couldn’t talk about Deb twenty-four seven.” “Hey, it’s not my fault I scored a good one. Just letting everyone know what they’re missing out on.” As Mike slowed down behind traffic, he glanced over at me and waggled his black eyebrows. “Make sure to do us a favor and hand out barf bags the next time you get started.” I nodded at the bag of pastries in his lap. “And don’t tell Deb I’m doin’ a horrible job of keeping you accountable.” “Nah, she likes my love handles.” “Bullshit.” He laughed and tore into the bag of fritters with one hand, while keeping his other on the wheel. When he’d made me swear last week that I’d keep him on track while he “cut the crap,” I’d thought he was nuts. Even with an extra twenty pounds on his strong six-foot build, Mike was as attractive as ever. Black, close-cropped curls, a permanent tan, and dimples that only seemed to have deepened the past few months. The hot ones are always straight. At least they are in Floyd Hills, Georgia, I thought, my mind drifting back to the man I always made sure to run into during the workweek. And yeah, I got that straight vibe from Reid too, though even he couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited when our hands had brushed against each other. That wasn’t enough to hang any hope on, though, much as I wanted to. “His name’s Reid,” I said, breaking up the quiet in the cab, and when Mike’s head jerked in my direction, a fritter half shoved in his mouth, I was unable to keep the smirk off my face anymore. “Teaches music at the middle school.” As I casually sipped my coffee, Mike’s jaw practically hit the ground. “No shit.” A horn sounded from behind us, and Mike stepped on the gas, shaking his head. “About damn time. What else did you talk about?” “Nothing. Joe came over to give the coffee machine a concussion, and that was the end of that.” “Dammit, Joe. Way to cock-block.” “Nah, he didn’t know.” “Well, you have an opening now,” Mike said, winking at me. “And that was only a pun if you want it to be.” “Oh, Jesus. I’ve done it now.” “What?” “Created a monster who uses puns against me.” Mike laughed as I flipped on the radio to drown out any other comments his sugar high wanted to lob out, but when Bing Crosby began to croon about a winter wonderland, Mike groaned and jabbed at the buttons to change the channel. “I can’t believe they’re still blasting Christmas music in January. Didn’t they get the memo that Santa Claus already came to town, and all he brought me was a damn snow blower? When the hell am I gonna use a snow blower around here? I think my in-laws called in a favor.” Chuckling, I brought my coffee up to my lips and blew softly, while Mike continued to flip through the stations until a country song began to play. He started to sing along, something about naming babies and dogs, which would normally have me eye-rolling him to death. But since his mouth was now otherwise occupied and he wasn’t digging for more information out of me, I didn’t bother putting up a fight to change the channel. Let him belt out “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” for all I cared. Until a call came in, my mind would be preoccupied by…other things. A quick tone alert came through the radio, and I punched the music off as a call came through from dispatch. “Unit 110, please respond Code 3 to the intersection of Mercer and Thomas on a multi-vehicle accident with injuries. Fire responding for possible extrication.” I picked up the receiver. “Ten-four, Unit 110 en route. ETA less than two minutes,” I said, as Mike dropped the plastic bag on the ground at my feet and flipped on the lights and siren. “Not how I’d want my day starting out,” he said, cutting through an intersection to make a left on Mercer. “Saddle up,” I said. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long one.” Traffic going east was already beginning to back up, the roads congested at the height of morning rush hour. Now with the accident up ahead and the cars unable to move to the side, Mike had to pull us into the suicide lane to get by. From the opposite direction, a backup unit, along with two police cars and a fire truck, veered toward the intersection, though it looked like we’d get there first. I could see the smoke rising up ahead, and as we got closer, it seemed to be coming from beneath the hood of a black four-by-four truck that had smashed into a— “Oh shit… Ollie…” Mike’s voice trailed off as we both caught sight of the crushed passenger side of the car that had been T-boned. The crumpled car had been no match for the bigger vehicle; it looked like they’d skidded into the middle of the intersection during impact. The car’s hood punched up at an awkward angle with the truck half inside, and broken glass littered the road. I’d seen the sight so many times before, but never had the breath left my lungs in a rush, never had a faint ringing sound filled my ears, and never had a wild sense of panic seized my chest like it did right then. Because the mangled car, the one I was responding to, was none other than Reid’s bright red Mazda3.

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Ollie & Reid stole my heart! 

Their relationship and love for one another had me soaring. I could not get enough of these two! I savored each page hoping, wishing, falling in love as they did and my heart was breaking of what will happen next between these two men.
I am anxiously awaiting the next book because I need to know...will he or won't he? Thank goodness it will be here at the end of the month!

This book will emotionally gut you in a delicious way. 

Go Grab it and be ready to find out if the truth is worth forgetting.

Go One Click it!

**ARC kindly provided in exchange for an honest review***

5 Cherries Popped

    

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Book two, Remember Me When, will be released on February 26th, 2018.

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

About Brooke

Brooke Blaine is a USA Today Bestselling Author of contemporary romance that ranges from comedy to suspense to erotic. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts. If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for years. Or you can reach her at www.BrookeBlaine.com.

Connect with Brooke:

Website: http://www.brookeblaine.com/

Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrookeBlaine.Writer

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If you’d like to be the FIRST to know about a new release, sale, giveaway, or upcoming signings & events, make sure to join Brooke’s mailing list:

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COVER REVEAL & EXCERPT: Getaway Girl by Tessa Bailey

GETAWAY GIRL

by

Tessa Bailey

Release Date 3/26 (self-published)

BUY LINKS:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2C05rpK

iBooks: https://apple.co/2nHwFgp

B&N: http://bit.ly/2ErZl6Z

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2nPCSX4

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2E6pbKc

Blurb:

This unlikely getaway driver never expected to help the mayor escape…

After a six-year absence, Addison Potts is back in Charleston to stir things up. And what better place to make her villainous return than her estranged cousin’s wedding? Only, the nuptials hit a snag when the bride doesn’t show, leaving Addison to play getaway driver for the jilted groom. A groom whose heartbreaking smile and deep, southern drawl she should not be noticing…

Elijah Montgomery Du Pont is the future mayor of Charleston. From his military career to city hall, every detail of his life has been meticulously planned. Until now. His only respite from life’s sudden upheaval is Addison, his new, improbable best friend. She makes him happy. Grounds him. And public disapproval be damned, he’s not willing to give her up. But with an election on the line and public pressure rising, Addison—and the cruel hand of fate—might not give him a choice.

EXCERPT:

“Well…” I stop to clear the rasp from my voice. “If there’s no picture of us together, we should take one.”

“Good idea.” He crooks his finger at me, unwittingly sealing his fate. “Come here.”

I put my jacket on downstairs when I thought we were leaving, but I take it off now, simply letting it fall. “I want you in the mayor’s chair.”

His eyes stray to my pooled jacket, then tick to mine. “You what?”

“In the picture. I want you sitting in the chair.”

“Oh. Right.” He slides out the brown leather, high-back executive chair and drops into it. “What about you?”

My bravery slips. Whose wouldn’t? This powerful, gorgeous man sits before me, outlined by the city he’s been elected to run. His thighs are thicker than my waist, his sleeves caught up around his elbows. A strong man. A man of conviction who will not be seduced unless he really wants to be.

Or is driven out of his mind and can’t resist.

Before I can second-guess myself, I move between his outstretched thighs and ease myself onto his lap. “Addison.”

I send him an innocent look over my shoulder. “Yes, Captain?”

His chest rises and falls. Once. Twice. “Take the picture.”

The fact that I’m playing with fire stops psyching me out…and begins to excite me. Maybe it’s the gravel in his tone…or the big fists that come to rest on the desk. No…it’s definitely the way he presses his nose to my hair and inhales. As if I’m not going to notice. But I do. I do and it makes me braver. Makes me throb between my legs.

“The picture, Addison.”

“Sorry.” I lean across the desk where I set my purse, taking my time digging through to find my cell before pulling it out, searching for the camera app. All the while, his muscles bunch beneath me, harder and harder…and that’s when I feel it. His erection lifts under my backside, so thick and glorious, I bite my lip to stop from crying out. I want to, though. I want to sob at the proof that he’s physically attracted to me and at least I have that much.

My hands are shaking as I lift the camera, my instincts screaming at me to grind down. Elijah’s breath is pelting the back of my neck. Other than that he’s completely still, though. But when I flip the camera around to selfie mode and get my first look at his face, there isn’t a jury on the planet that would rule him unaffected. His eyes are closed, nostrils flared, mouth open against my hair. “You’ve got five seconds,” he says. “Take it, or—”

“Or what?” Elijah stands up and takes me with him, my ass pressed to his lap, feet dangling off the ground. As if I weigh nothing more than a child. It only lasts for a couple mind-blowing seconds, though, before he settles me on the ground behind his desk. His heat begins to leave me and I sense my chance slipping away, so I twist around to face him. Still mere inches away from me, he pauses with his head tipped forward, hands flexing at his sides. “We could be more than friends.” After easing myself backwards onto the desk, I snag his necktie and tug him closer, guiding his hips between my open thighs. “Just for tonight.”

His laugh is more like a rough expulsion of air, the scent of bourbon hitting me. “That’s not how things work,” he says, his palms scraping up my thighs, twisting in the hem of my dress. “Goddammit, Addison. You’re not supposed to tempt me like this.”

Tempted. He’s tempted. My blood cells crash together. “I don’t always do what I’m supposed to,” I murmur, leaning up to bring our mouths close, a breath separating them. “If I wasn’t your friend, would you kiss me right now?”

His eyes fasten on my mouth, seeming darker than usual. Predatory. “You felt what you did to my cock, sugar. You know the answer to that.”

Author Social Media Links

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EXCERPT REVEAL: GENTLEMAN NINE by Penelope Ward

   

       

From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward, comes a new, sexy standalone novel.   Growing up, the three of us were friends. He was the nerd. I was the playboy. She was the beauty.   Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits. He lied.   I went off to college, and he got the girl. Amber never knew how I felt. They were together for years—before he broke her heart.   Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch. When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.   Still reeling from her breakup, she’d sworn off men. One night, I opened her computer to find the shock of my life. She’d hesitantly contacted a male escort company. Afraid to date and get her heart broken again, she was looking for sex with no strings. Every emotion imaginable ran through me: protectiveness, jealousy—curiosity. Amber had chosen Gentleman Number Nine and sent him a message. She opened up to him, confessing, among other things, her physical attraction to her friend— me. But she considered me off-limits—and she thought I was a manwhore. (Ironic, considering the circumstances.) Eventually, she set up a date to meet Gentleman Nine at a hotel. When she showed up several nights later to meet him, she got the surprise of her life to see me standing there—with an offer I hoped she wouldn’t refuse. 

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      G9, Is that what your friends call you? I like that. Thanks for the answers. That’s an interesting question—why tonight of all nights? Well, I saw my ex tagged on Facebook with another woman, and that put me over the edge. But it’s more than that. Lately, I’ve developed a strong attraction to a good friend of mine, and that’s sort of screwing with me a bit. He’s actually temporarily living in my condo, but he’s someone I’ve known for years. I’ve always thought he was extremely handsome, but it’s complicated. He and I would not be a good match romantically. He’s not the monogamous type, or at least, he never used to be. We’re better off as friends. He was also the best friend of my ex years back, so there’s that. Having him around, though, has made me more sensitized to my sexual desires. Little things like the waft of his scent, the way he touches the small of my back when he passes by me in the kitchen…it’s like my body is on this constant state of alert. So, I was thinking if I could just—for lack of a better word—get laid, maybe I could get this feeling out of my system. —Amber   My jaw was open as I just sat there staring at the screen. Holy shit. I read it again. And again. And again. I honestly didn’t think that Amber felt that way about me. She would always make jokes about me being good-looking, but her attraction to Rory proved that her taste wasn’t exactly conventional. Now, I really felt like shit for invading her privacy, because there was no way she would’ve been okay with confessing that to me. I never imagined any of this had to do with me. I’d assumed it was solely about Rory. She wanted to use another man to f*ck me out of her system? That revelation left me shocked and confused—not to mention hard as f*ck thinking about the fact that Amber wanted me.  

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She’s a seventeen-time New York Times bestseller. Her novels are published in over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world. Having grown up in Boston with five older brothers, she spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 13-year-old girl with autism and a 12-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island. 

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NEW RELEASE & EXCERPT: Brooklynaire by Sarina Bowen

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I grab a towel off a waiting stack of them and toss it onto the edge. “You can sit and put your feet in.”

She’s wearing a short little knit dress that’s been making me crazy all evening, so it would be easy enough for her to strip off those stockings, sit on the towel, and drop both feet in. 

And that’s what she does. She eases one stocking down over a smooth knee and tugs it off.

I don’t want to stand there staring like a middle-school boy. Okay, I do want to. But I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. So I go over to the sound system instead, and I set my phone on the speaker and cue up a really old playlist. One she’ll recognize. 

When I turn around again, she’s seated on the towel, both legs hanging down into the churning water. “Ah. Wow.” She looks up at me, her eyes sparkling. “Nice place you got here.”

“Isn’t it?” I toe off my shoes and kick them to the side.

The first song comes on, and it’s a Macklemore tune that we used to play far too often in our first office. Rebecca laughs immediately. “You didn’t! I haven’t heard this playlist in forever. But I’ll bet I still know every transition. Lady Gaga is next.”

“She sure is.”

Rebecca kicks her feet, making a splash. “I have a little confession to make.”

“What’s that?” I loosen my tie and slide the knot out.

“Well…” She grins up at me. “I used to have a crush on you. Back in the early days.”

My hands freeze on the tie silk. “Get out of town. You did not.”

“No, I really did.” Her cheeks are pink. “That first year especially. But you were taken, and you were my boss. Those two things made it pretty easy to tamp down, when you’re a practical girl like me.” 

I walk over and drop down beside her, my back to the water, though, because I’m still wearing trousers and socks. “So how does that work, exactly?”

“What?” She gives me a sidelong glance, but then looks away again and won’t meet my eyes.

“How do you stop wanting someone? I’m a practical person, but I don’t see how that makes it any easier. Nothing seems to mute the raging attraction I have for you.”

Her chin turns quickly toward me, and I seize the opportunity to kiss her. And it only takes one kiss—one slide of my lips over hers, and I’m on fire again. 

We’re facing opposite directions, so it’s awkward as hell. But I don’t even care. I take greedy sip after greedy sip of her mouth, until she pulls back to stare at me. Her color is high and her eyes are bright and happy. “This is like Twister.”

“It’s better,” I correct. Lady Gaga comes on, just as Becca said she would. “Are we getting into this pool or what?” 

Becca kicks a foot in the water. “I’m tempted. But I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh, snap.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Are you really getting in?”

“We don’t have to.” I’m never going to pressure her.

Her fingers trail across the surface of the bubbling water. “But this is an adventure, right?”

“Right.” I stand up and remove my socks. She’s watching me. And I can’t read her expression. “What?”

“Just wondering what else you’re going to take off.” She smiles. 

“Come here.” The order rolls off my tongue. 

But Rebecca doesn’t blink. She gets up and turns toward me, curiosity in her eyes. 

“You tell me. What am I taking off?”

She puts two hands tentatively on my chest, and I make myself be patient. Everything I ever wanted is on the other side of this moment. I just need us to break through this awkwardness—the “will we or won’t we” tension. 

Her fingers find the top button of my shirt. “I’m not getting in the water unless you are.”

That’s a compromise I can live with. I find my lower shirt buttons and work upwards, until we meet in the middle. She pushes the two halves of my shirt apart and runs a hand down my bare chest. 

My inner caveman stands up and cheers.

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