Delilah Reily was a broken soul. The only person keeping her pushing forward is her daughter, Olive. She returned to her family home. A place that holds so many memories, some good and some bad. It was now time to mend fences while also trying to fix a beyond repairable heart.
Sebastian King, Formula One racer, was a single father. He met Delilah on the worst day of his life. A day he’d never forget. A day that left him raising a five-year-old and a newborn—it seemed things had gotten a whole lot more complicated. After a year of healing and being unable to continue with his career as a race driver, he decided it was best to be with his girls. Without any plans in place, he booked a holiday at Rose Ridge Ranch and left the following day.
Sebastian never thought he’d see Delilah again. But fate had other plans. Sometimes love needs a kickstart with a horseback ride.
Rose Ridge Ranch is a place for the broken to be mended. The special to blend in. Love to be found in the most unlikely places. The heart to find a home.
Can Sebastian and Delilah help each other overcome the things that hold them back?
Liz Lovelock is from bright sunny Queensland in Australia. She is the mother of three little monsters, a wife to an amazing husband and very much a lover of everything books and reading. Liz has always loved books and, from a very young age she began reading comic books and then in high school her passion grew. She was given Tomorrow When The War Began by John Marsden for an assignment but, when that was done she continued to discover new books to fall in love with.
Liz always has a book she is currently enjoying and, a notebook beside her bed for in her hand bag for when inspiration hits at those crazy times. She is a stationary addict and will buy more notebooks and pens then what she needs. Her one click finger likes to go crazy as well.
AUTHOR BIO Alex Grayson is a USA Today bestselling author of heart pounding, emotionally gripping contemporary romances including the Jaded Series, the Consumed Series, the Hell Night Series, and multiple standalone novels. Her passion for books was reignited by a gift from her sister-in-law. After spending several years as a devoted reader and blogger, Alex decided to write and independently publish her first novel in 2014 (an endeavor that took a little longer than expected). The rest, as they say, is history.
Originally a southern girl, Alex now lives in Ohio with her husband, daughter, three cats and one dog. She loves the color blue, homemade lasagna, casually browsing real estate, and interacting with her readers. Visit her website, www.alexgraysonbooks.com, or find her on social media!
BB Easton has revealed the cover for Devil of Dublin!
Releasing: September 27, 2022
Cover designer: Damonza
Photographer: Regina Wamba
Cover Model: Jered Sternaman
From the Wall Street Journal bestselling author of 44 Chapters About 4 Men (inspiration for the Netflix Original series Sex/Life) comes a dark mafia romance steeped in Irish folklore.
I can’t remember anymore if my grandfather’s eyes were blue or green, but I’ll never forget the way they wrinkled at the corners when he laughed at one of his own jokes. Or the way they sparkled with mischief when he told me tales about the magical creatures that dwelled in the forest behind his humble Irish sheep farm—shy fairies who liked to eat tea biscuits, cruel witches who liked to eat children, a moody lake spirit with a taste for expensive gifts.
As a child, I believed every fantastical word. But when he warned me about the mute boy who also lurked in those woods, the one the priest had declared to be the spawn of Satan himself, I refused to listen. Kellen wasn’t evil. He was kind, and beautiful, and special, and hurting. He was my friend. And with every summer I spent stolen away with him in those enchanted woods, he grew to become so much more.
But when I return to Glenshire as an adult, grieving and engaged to someone else, all those legends quickly morph into nightmares.
My grandfather had been right about everything, especially the boy.
If only I had listened.
WARNING: If you are a sensitive reader or find certain subject matter triggering, please exercise self-care and select a different book. Devil of Dublin is a dark romance, intended for mature audiences who enjoy high emotional intensity, explicit adult content, graphic violence, heart-pounding suspense, fairy-tale worthy love, and gorgeous Irish scenery. If that sounds like you, then … welcome to Glenshire!
Wall Street Journal bestselling author BB Easton lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her long-suffering husband, Ken, and two adorable children. A few years ago, she quit her job as a school psychologist to write books about her punk rock past and deviant sexual history full-time. Ken wasn’t super excited about that, but now that he’s appeared in three of her books and inspired a TV show character, he’s incredibly supportive.
BB’s debut memoir, 44 Chapters About 4 Men, went on to inspire the Netflix original series, Sex/Life, which was viewed by 67 million households worldwide within the first month making it the 3rd most-watched Netflix original series of all time. Because she had so much fun writing 44 Chapters, BB went on to publish four more wickedly funny, shockingly steamy, and heartwarmingly autobiographical books, one for each man in her memoir—Skin, Speed, Star, and Suit.
The Rain Trilogy—a dark, immersive, end-of-the-world romance—was BB’s first work of fiction. Or at least, that’s what she thought when she wrote it in 2019. Then, 2020 hit, and all of her dystopian plot points started coming true. Hoping to fix everything, BB returned with a fun, feel-good romantic comedy called Group Therapy, but alas, the world is still on fire … and so is BB’s desire to write intense, us-against-the-world romances. Her next release,Devil of Dublin, isa dark Irish mafia romance steeped in folklore and family secrets.
You can find BB procrastinating in all of the following places:
Secrets. Lies. A man. There’s always a man. And there’s always a truth to be told.
I’m Hailey Anne Monroe. I’m twenty-eight years old. An artist, who found her muse on the canvas because I wasn’t allowed to have friends or even keep a journal. And yes, if you haven’t guessed by now, I’m that Hailey Anne Monroe, daughter to Thomas Frank Monroe, the man who was a half-percentage point from becoming President of the United States. If you were able to ask him, he’d probably tell you that I was the half point. But you can’t ask him, and he can’t tell you. He’s dead. They’re all dead and now I can speak.
READ THE FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS OF A PERFECT LIE FOR FREE!
“Can I join you?” he asks, motioning to the table.
There’s interest in his eyes, the kind a man has for a woman, but who knows, maybe it’s real or maybe it’s not real. Maybe he knows who I am and sees a path to power and fame. The way Tobey wanted me for money and power, right up until the moment I’d called his number aka his agenda; thus, he has not called me since I left. Maybe Harvard will lie even better than Tobey did. Maybe Harvard will at least kiss better than he did, and the lies would taste like temptation rather than convenience. At least then, if I’m used, I’ll enjoy being used.
Whatever the case, it’s clear I might actually be angry with Tobey and that aside, the interest that Harvard has shown in me, must be controlled before my Denver sanctuary is destroyed. “You can join me,” I say, “but only because I’m trying to save the rest of the place from the attorney in the house.”
I am pleased when Harvard laughs, where Tobey would have scowled, proving that Harvard has a sense of humor, which is rare for those in my life. I’ve barely completed this thought when he moves forward and claims the seat next to me, not across from me, settling his briefcase on that chair instead. In the process, his leg brushes my leg and for the briefest of moments, I’m transported back to the place that I’m now trying to forget: to Austin, to Drew’s leg next to mine, his wink, and I do now what I did then. I jerk back. If Harvard notices he doesn’t react. “Since we haven’t been formally introduced,” he says, resting his naked hands on the table. “I’m Logan. Logan Casey.”
“Logan Casey,” I repeat trying to ground myself in the present, at least for now, but some part of me is still swimming in that memory, which naturally has me wondering if this man is a shark in the water around me. “Two first names,” I add. “Sounds like your parents fought over who got to pick your first name. Did they draw straws for which choice became your middle name?”
“You’re actually right on target,” he says, laughing again, and it’s a nice, masculine laugh, and oddly this thought feels familiar while Logan does not. “No one has ever guessed that,” he adds. “My mother won the name war. The women always win. Speaking of names. Do you have one?”
“Hailey Anne Pitt,” I say, “and in my house, my father won the name war.” Because in my father’s world, I add silently, the women don’t win the wars. At least, not that he knows, not in an obvious way. I’ve learned this well.
“Well then, Hailey Anne Pitt,” he says, “what’s a Stanford girl like you, doing in a place like this? You’re a long way from school.”
I’m smacked in the face with a lesson I’ve long ago learned and forgotten with this man; strangers do not always remain strangers and all offhanded remarks can come back to haunt you. “That was a joke,” I say, shutting the door connected to my real life, and a path that leads to my father. “I hate attorneys, remember?”
He narrows his eyes on me, and for no reason other than instinct, I believe he’s looking for a lie that he won’t find. I’m simply too well-taught from birth, too skilled at being more than one person to allow such a detection. Well that, and the fact that I really do hate attorneys, which is why I’ll be a good one.
“That was a joke?” he confirms.
“Yes,” I say. “Are you amused?”
“Yes, actually. I am. What does a lawyer-hating smart ass like yourself do for a living?”
“When not busy taunting those who went to law school,” I say. “I’m an aspiring artist.” Both honest answers, if you put a “was” in front of the “aspiring artist” which I’d thought that I’d come to terms with, but the knot in my stomach says I have not.
Logan motions toward the art room. “Your career explains why you ended up here.”
“I guess it does,” I say, as this place serves me well to reconnecting to the Pitt part of my life, which is a place I really need to be right now, for all kinds of reasons.
“Are you good?” Logan asks, as if he’s read my mind.
My father’s words answer him in my head. Art is useless unless you’re famous, he used to say often, because of course, it was inconceivable that I might be good enough to be famous. “Art is like movies and food,” I say, shoving aside that bad memory. “Good is subjective.” I don’t give him time to reply. I ping the conversation back toward him. “What kind of law do you practice?”
“Corporate,” he says, and this time he pings back to me. “Do you live in the neighborhood?”
“Yes,” I say simply. “Do you?”
“I bought a building a few years ago where I live and work which means this is my home turf, and why I know you’re new here.”
“I am,” I say and since he’s clearly going to ask for details, I quickly preempt with an on-the-fly story. Actually, it’s the suggested story, Rudolf included in my file. “I came here for a job, and my new boss owns a house he’s rented to me for dirt cheap.”
“And what does an artist do but create art for a living?”
“I’m working for a private art acquisitions firm. I now hunt for treasures for a living.” This lie is actually my dream job that I’ve never been allowed to entertain.
The horror flick loving waitress delivers my coffee and brownie. “Thank you,” I say, because every politician’s daughter has manners beaten into her.
“No problem,” she says, “but if you come to your senses and want a better version of that coffee, just shout.” She eyes Logan. “I already know you want a crappy tasting coffee, on endless pour and a chocolate chip cookie. Coming right up.”
“Thanks, Megan,” he says, giving her a wink that I don’t classify as flirtatious, just friendly, and Megan is gone.
“Obviously you’re a regular,” I comment, “and they even like you.”
“And they like me,” he confirms, “despite knowing I’m an attorney.
“Because you’re good looking and use it to your advantage.”
He arches a brow. “You think I’m good looking, do you?”
“Oh, come on,” I say, crinkling my nose. “Everyone thinks you’re good looking. I’m simply stating a fact. We use what we have and those of us that are smart, know what we have.” I move on from what is really quite inconsequential. “Why work here, not at home, or in the office?”
“I find I get a lot of work done with a cookie, coffee, and no access to streaming television,” he explains.
No one in my D.C. crowd would make an admission of being human and distractible. Some people in my situation might take comfort in that fact, but I don’t. Logan’s an attorney, and my gut, which I’ll confirm with research, says he’s a powerful one, the kind that radiates toward my father. Maybe that’s a coincidence and maybe it’s not. Maybe he’s testing how well I execute my cover story. The possibilities are many. Though in all fairness to Logan, perhaps I’d lean toward his innocence, if not for the laundry list of recent events such as Tobey being gay and the FBI agent, who is likely working for my father, that I slept with to prove I was a) still desirable and b) not a killer.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones writes dark, edgy fiction to include the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT series and the crime thriller The Poet. Suzanne Todd (producer of Alice in Wonderland and Bad Moms) on the INSIDE OUT series: Lisa has created a beautiful, complicated, and sensual world that is filled with intrigue and suspense.
Prior to publishing Lisa owned a multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine. She lives in Colorado with her husband, a cat that talks too much, and a Golden Retriever who is afraid of trash bags.
“A lively series launch . . . Bissonnette’s message of new beginnings after devastating losses inspires.” —Publishers Weekly
Stardom fades fast when you’re on the line for murder, in this debut cozy mystery perfect for fans of Richard Osman and Jenn McKinlay.
Jay Allan and Cindy Cooper were soap opera stars in the late ’90s, a wholesome young husband-and-wife duo who combined musical talent with humor and charisma. When the truth about their sexual orientations came to light, their marriage and TV careers ended, but decades later they have remained friends. Together, they open Palm Springs’ chicest movie memorabilia store, Hooray for Hollywood–but no customers and dwindling finances spell trouble.
A Hail Mary arrives in the form of Yana Tosh, a ninety-year-old diva of the silver screen who has amassed a valuable collection of costumes and props and is looking to sell. But first, Jay and Cindy have to beat their competition, a vice president from a mega-auction house with ten times their resources. And when he winds up dead, they become prime suspects in the murder.
With their freedom and livelihoods on the line, Jay and Cindy desperately need to clear their names. There are plenty of other potential suspects, but they’ll have to solve it soon before they’re forced to trade in their vintage costume collection for two orange jumpsuits.
New York Times bestselling author Zac Bissonnette’s most recent book is 2015’s The Great Beanie Baby Bubble: Mass Delusion and the Dark Side of Cute. He is an equity analyst at a hedge fund, and lives in New York City with his partner and a tuxedo cat named Perry Como.
Zac’s writing journey, from finance and economics to queer humorous mysteries
The Lighter Side of Crime: Why readers crave humorous mysteries
The booming market for Hollywood memorabilia
How a painting of Angela Lansbury in Murder, She Wrote Zac bought at a Hollywood memorabilia auction inspired the series.
The history of LGBT representation in crime fiction.
Praise for A KILLING IN COSTUMES
“Fans of movie memorabilia will have a field day.” —Kirkus
“Sure to enthrall. . . At the very core of this astonishing debut is love in various forms—and especially our eternal love of, and fascination for, Hollywood in all its glamor and glitz.” —Miranda James,NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author of The Cat in the Stacks and the Southern Ladies Mysteries
“With effortless prose and laugh-out-loud banter … the absolute must-have mystery of the season.” —Kate Carlisle, NYT Bestselling author of The Fixer Upper Mysteries
“You might be a future queen, but when it comes to the bedroom, I’m your king.”
ROYALLY NOT READY, a brand new sexy, enemies-to-lovers standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author Meghan Quinn, is Now Available in all formats, including the illustrated hardcover edition! Fall in love with this fresh take on a royal romance with a twist. Laugh out loud funny and full of some of her steamiest scenes yet, Quinn takes you on an unexpected, sizzling fairytale journey. One-click your copy today!
Emma Wilder and John Hartley narrate ROYALLY NOT READY in duet, and their performances are perfection! Grab your earbuds and dive into this aural sensation today!
ABOUT MEGHAN QUINN:
USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.
Never miss another NEW RELEASE, text READ to 474747.
She’s his total opposite. But she could be his everything.
True North, an all-new opposites attract contemporary romance from New York Times bestselling author JB Salsbury is now available!
The North name is a heavy burden. Two things I learned young—the best way to keep my head on is to keep my head down, and… never fall in love. But I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress.
Lillian came into my life swinging. Mistaking me for my abusive twin brother, she greets me with a swift kick to the balls and a busted lip. Then she really shakes up my world.
She needs her job, but she needs a break just as much. And nothing silences my demons as efficiently as playing the hero.
To protect her from my jerk twin—her boss—I take her on a business trip and quickly learn that she’s different. Blunt. Honest. Intriguingly strange. I’m transfixed, so when she unknowingly sinks a multimillion-dollar deal, I don’t speak up. Something my family won’t forgive.
Now, I have a choice to make. I can go against my own blood and burn the North legacy to the ground, or play it safe, commit to my self-imposed rules and predestined future. Choosing her would ruin my life as I know it, but I’m starting to wonder if a life without her is worth living.
About JB Salsbury JB Salsbury, New York Times Best Selling author of The Fighting Series, lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day lost in a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles as stories claw away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.
Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to write her first novel.
Since 2013 she has published six bestselling novels in The Fighting Series and won a RONE Award.
In Chaos We Reign, an addictive and must-read dark romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Amo Jones is coming August 14th, and we have the incredible cover!
I was the trick that they could never play. She was the greatest game of all…
There was elegance that comes from being carved from the ashes of all the darkness that surrounds you in the world. You start as dust, and you end as dust. At least that’s what I always thought. Crowned Princess Mayhem all my life became old fast, and I found myself forging my iron crown with the blood of our enemies.
To The Brothers of Kiznitch, I was nothing but a little brat that always got my way. I was the sister none of them asked for, but they’d find themselves needing. He was no different. Loving Keaton Cicero was never going to be easy. There was evil within him that would never be accepted.
They thought their over-protectiveness had kept me safe all these years, but they were wrong. Everything they thought they knew, was about to burn around them. I wasn’t someone who needed protecting…
In Chaos We Reign can be read as a stand-alone, but it is recommended to read In Silence She Screams first to better understand some story points.
Resisting the Grump, an all-new hilarious and steamy small-town romantic comedy from bestselling author Ashley Munoz is coming September 2nd and we have the first look at the gorgeous cover!
Stalking the town recluse wasn’t exactly wise.
Davis was five years older than me…antisocial and temperamental. And there was the little fact that he didn’t know I existed. Still, I gave him my heart, and he crushed it.
So I picked up the pieces and ran away to New York City. I had a plan that kept my heart intact for four years. But one phone call changed everything.
Returning home meant facing the past…and the man who ruined me. I had hoped that the mountain had swallowed him whole. Alas, as I set out to help my parents, I discover he’s not only alive and well, but that they apparently love the jerk.
He has no idea that we have a past, which is both a relief and salt in the wound. I promise myself I’ll ignore how his eyes linger on me, or the way his touch feels like a live wire, and I’ll remember that once upon a time he broke me and for that I refuse to fall for him again. But I can’t control that he seems to be falling for me this time.
Tessana Allisand might have proven that she’s the oldest living daughter of the dead king of Elysia, and that she’s the rightful heir to the Seat of Power, but that doesn’t mean she gets to be queen . . . yet. Forced to wait until her twenty-first birthday, Tess is supposed to be learning how to navigate court life and all the ways she will one day rule the realm. But circumstances and her nefarious uncle keep getting in the way of her education.
A kingdom in turmoil . . .
While Tess is pampered with the luxuries of castle life, the rest of the kingdom suffers under the oppressive thumb of the Ring of Shadows. And while no other ruler seems all that concerned with the evil rebels intent on destroying everyone and everything, Tess alone must find a way to stand up to the dark magic threatening to choke the life from her precious kingdom.
A love shaken by distance . . .
Tessana and Taelon found each other in the depths of the Blood Woods. And just like when they were children, their affection for each other saved the realm. But now, with separate kingdoms to fight for and royal duties to attend to, life is pushing them in impossibly opposite directions. Tess wants nothing more than for Taelon to be at her side. And yet, she will never ask him to leave his own kingdom for hers. Fate seems determined to keep them apart. But it was love that brought them back together. And love that will defy titles, crowns, and destiny.
The swooshing noise fired in the distance. Swoop. Swoop. Swoop. I was only mildly adept with a bow, but I recognized the release of an arrow. But never had I heard so many at one time.
“You’re under attack,” Caspian snarled at my ear.
I lifted my head and looked around at the chaos bursting into action around us. Guards scrambled to dive out of the way of incoming arrows. But too many were slicing through the air and coming too fast. Wave after wave of ill-fated projectiles. I watched a young man who had only just been promoted from page to my protective service get hit in the chest and fall over the balcony’s edge, his scream of pain and panic renting the air as he plunged to his death.
I clung to Caspian’s tunic, terrified and shocked. Another body fell behind me. I did not have to look to know it would be another of my guards.
“Where are they coming from?” I gasped as an arrow crashed and toppled just feet from where we lay. We were high above the castle grounds, and there weren’t buildings or other structures anywhere near this side of the castle. It was all gardens and rolling hills. And miles away, the sheer façade of the Diamond Mountains.
“The turrets.” He ducked his face into my neck as another arrow came whizzing by. It was the most intimate I had ever been with a man. Even Taelon had never pressed his face against my bare skin like this.
Obviously, now was not the time to be thinking of such things. Both of us could die in the next instant. Probably should be more focused on surviving than the way Caspian’s rough jaw scraped against my throat, or the way his chin dipped and brushed my bosom.
But then he inhaled deeply. I felt the breath move through him, down the length of his taut body.
He lifted his head again and smirked. “You smell of oranges and honey.”
There was such an intimate knowledge of me in his voice that I nearly forgot about the arrows completely. Caspian wasn’t like Taelon at all. That had been true since the first moment he spoke to me. But in this way especially. Taelon was nothing but a gentleman, proper, sweet, respectable. Yes, he was roguish and playful too. Clever. Calculating. Wise. But with me, there was always an invisible boundary of regard. Capsian was the opposite. His eyes glinted with carnal things, his hands flexing on my body where he held me—one hand on my outstretched wrist, the other at my hip. His voice was smoke and sandpaper. His skin hot against mine. And still, the arrows zipped by, miraculously missing us. But barely.
“We need to get inside,” I reminded him.
He refocused and looked to the right and to the left. The ballroom and its balcony were set into the castle, nestled between two gradually extending walls that ended in towering turrets. The design gave the ballroom privacy, tucking it away with only a view of the gardens. While I could see nothing but Caspian’s profile and long neck, the bowmen must be set up in the guest rooms and using the windows to get a line of sight on their targets.
Swoop. Then a sick crunching sound made my stomach beat against my spine.
Caspian growled in pain, his body contracting from the impact.
“Caspian!” I shrieked as he became limp over me, crushing me beneath his surprisingly substantial weight. He did not answer. “Caspian, please!” He still did not answer. “Dragon’s blood, Caspian, do not die on top of me!” Still, he did not answer.
I clutched his shoulders, my fingers brushing the hilt of an arrow on his right side. I breathed a small sigh of relief that it didn’t seem to have gone through his heart. I stilled long enough to feel a shallow breath move his chest up and down. Shaking him gently, I tried to rouse him while the party inside finally realized what was going on.
Women screamed, glasses shattered, and guards began moving outside. But as soon as someone stepped onto the patio, they were felled by a barrage of arrows.
I heard someone shouting about the princess and wondered if they could even see me beneath Caspian’s unconscious body.
“Caspian, please,” I begged, shaking him again. “I promise, I will give you a fair shot at being my consort if you will just wake up!”
I knew he hadn’t heard me, not really. But he did suck in a deep breath and make a pained growl against the pain.
His head jerked upward, and his gaze found mine almost instantly. “I’ve been shot.”
It was inappropriate to laugh at a time like this. But was he serious? “I realize.”