Genre: Romantic Suspense Release Date: December 5, 2019
Never expected much out of life—Succeeded!
Poster boy for a brother; he claimed the badge, I embraced the bad.
My best friend’s sister is pure innocence, but somehow, I’m gonna claim Celeste Morgan.
I’ve had enough of waiting for something, anything to happen with Greyson Michaels.
But he’s bound by a promise.
Though we aren’t little anymore.
And we don’t need anyone’s approval.
We’re adults, free to make our own choices.
And I don’t see a single reason to not have Greyson Michaels take all of me!
But with the level of drama surrounding us, our story won’t ever be easy…
Seatbelt secure, I stepped hard on the peddle. The car lunged forward and the Kona Blue Mustang reached 60 miles per hour within seconds, and I continued to push the limits. I pressed the clutch to the floor and maneuvered the shifter. Instantly, the low rumble of the exhaust turned to a powerful roar. Bold lights and a vast skyline were blocked by high-rises, becoming blurred lines beyond the windshield. The closer I moved to my destination, the further I drifted from a world of darkness. With corruption looming behind me, I welcomed the light dangling in front of me. Her light…
My flight got in late to JFK, so now I had to deal with a shitload of traffic heading into Midtown Tunnel. But then a black Yukon Denali drew down on my bumper and flashed its lights about ten times. I let the idiot have fun until we got out of there. From every angle, traffic held steady, but I couldn’t let other drivers keep me from getting to her. At 9:30 on a Friday night, I didn’t have time for this shit.
I caught a break and swerved out of the lane; the Denali followed, lights blinking like before. This was the shit, the childish shit that transferred from childhood to adulthood. And unfortunately, I knew the asshole: my brother, Detective Brendan Michaels.
Not now! Not today! I caressed the wheel, squeezing tighter than before. This was nonsense, but I wasn’t up for the bullshit tonight. So I flashed him off and kept going. Now wasn’t the time for complex family issues. Plotting out my route, I slowly began ramping up the speed.
A red SUV sat in the left lane, in front of me, while a shuttle limo tried to box me in on the right. Dropping my speed enough to force the asshole to pass, I shifted down and cut behind him, skipping over to the second lane in time to trap the idiot trailing me. This was the type of shit that always occurred whenever I made it to the city because he had connections to track me down once I entered his state and mostly importantly, enjoyed riding his younger brother. But I needed the next 2 or 3 hours, just for me and the girl that haunted my dreams.
Holding the wheel steady while keeping the pace, I said, “Call CeCe!” Saying her name nearly took my breath away. If nothing else, life thought me that first love spoiled a man for everyone else.
Thumbing the wheel and waiting to hear her shriek my name, I didn’t breathe. Honestly, I’ve faced off with some of the worse scum to walk this earth, yet she had the ability to crush me. The guys I went up against could only hurt the outer me; CeCe, on the other hand, could shred me from the inside out.
“Greyyy!” Her voice snapped me out of the daydream. “Greyyy!”
“Hey girl,” I muttered, scared like hell of sounding too anxious or desperate. I even sat up in the seat, gripping tighter on the wheel with both hands.
“Don’t tell me you’re not coming, Greyson! The last time you were in town, you promised every month. How long has it been?”
“No, no you better not disappointment me!”
“I wouldn’t ever do that, CeCe.”
“Don’t patronize me, Greyson!”
“My flight was late, and I’m in traffic. Have you left home yet?” With each word, I tried like hell to slow the heartbeats.
“I’m already on my way,” she sang into the line and it took me back to when we were little kids. I could imagine her lips—the way they’d poke out, pointing at me. And when she’d tilt up her head to gaze into my eyes, looking me full on, pupils diving past the barriers most girls would be too afraid to challenge.
“I can pick you up. Need more time? Where—”
“No… No… And hell no! You’re meeting me, as planned. I need a friendly face. It’s been a long week, Grey. You owe me tonight …” While she went on and on about my disappearing acts, I shot to the exit. Flooring the pedal, then quickly easing into a smooth stop at East 35th Street.
“Celeste, I don’t know what the hell you just said.”
She laughed and I could picture her shaking her head, swooping her long, blonde hair from shoulder to shoulder in a flirty way. I know this girl; shit, I’ve known this girl since her arguments were nothing more than whiny sentences. I’ve known her since those big, blue eyes were even bigger; when her nosey, little ass would come all the way over to my parent’s house, up the street, just to find out what I was doing so she could have something incriminating over my head at any given time. I’ve always known her likes and dislikes, even more than she’d admit to herself even.
That’s the girl I fell for.
I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did. I fell in love with my best friend’s sister, and I don’t know how to turn off the feelings because something inside of me wanted to go against a childish promise and make her mine. Ours might’ve been a perfect love, if we were different people—if she wasn’t his sister and I wasn’t the man I’d grown into.
Sienna Evans is a mother of two young men, lover of an incredible alpha male and writer of amazing stories with deeply passionate characters. She loves toy dogs with attitudes because she has a belief that good things come in small packages. Don’t miss out on the Sienna Evans experience.
The wait is over! Gilded Lily, the second standalone in Staci Hart’s Bennet Brothers Series, is LIVE! Trust me when I say you do NOT want to miss this one! Lila & Kash are everything. Grab your copy today on Amazon or snag this beauty in Kindle Unlimited today!
They say there’s no such thing as perfect.
But I’ve built my life to perfection—the perfect boyfriend, the perfect apartment, the perfect career planning celebrity weddings. My job—my only job—is to make sure every event is absolutely and completely perfect.
What’s not perfect? Kash Bennet.
And I wish I didn’t find that so appealing.
I could have told you every perfectly imperfect thing about the gardener at Longbourne. Like his hair, lush and black and far too long. Or his nose, the flat bridge of a Greek god, bent a little like it’s been broken. Or his size. Beastly. Roped and corded with muscles, gleaming with sweat and peppered with dirt.
There’s no escaping him, not if I’m going to use his family’s flower shop for my events.
But nothing is what it seems. And in the span of a heartbeat, my perfect life is turned inside out.
They say the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody new. When Kash offers his services to the cause, it sounds like the perfect plan.
What’s not part of the plan? Falling in love with the gardener.
But they were right—there’s no such thing as perfect.
And I’m the fool who finds out the hard way.
A SPADE’S A SPADE
Heaven existed within the walls of our greenhouse.
The shuck of my shovel against the iron wheelbarrow was the second hand on my day. Rich soil mounded on my spade, and I transferred it into the bed of Black-eyed Susans, turning it to feed the sleepy dirt already gathered at the flowers’ feet.
I caught sight of the snowy top of my father’s head between stalks of amber amaranth down the row where he knelt, hands in the earth. He hummed along with the music playing from the portable speaker on our work cart, and with another shuck, I drove my shovel back into the wheelbarrow.
It was peaceful and familiar, the rhythm of our day, the slanting sun, the humid air and smell of flowers. I’d worked in my family’s greenhouse during high school—as had all my siblings—but where they made their way into the world, I hung back, content to hang back at Longbourne with Dad, unable to leave Mom without anyone to fuss over. And if there was one thing Mrs. Bennet required from life, it was someone to fuss over.
I found myself smiling at the thought. She’d see us all married off—in fact, she played the matchmaker like it was her full time job—but I had to wonder what she’d do with herself once we were all gone. Press us for grandchildren and divert her attention to them, if the rest of the Bennet brood was lucky.
The crack of the swinging metal door against the wall wiped that smile off my face. I shot up from my task with a hard look, appalled and accusing, prepared to smite whoever had disturbed our sanctuary.
Lila Parker blew in like a gale, heels clicking like hammers against the cement floor. At the sight of her, my fury abated, replaced by a curious wonder and the incremental slowing of time that always accompanied her entrance.
She was a study in white, pristine and stern in a pantsuit that belonged in some fancy lady’s luncheon, not a greenhouse. Her legs were ten miles long in those white pants, the matching jacket cut low. A sliver of silken nude fabric was the only thing to mar the line of her cleavage, which my eyes followed before climbing up her lily-white skin, up the long column of her neck, to the set of her uncompromising little jaw.
God, she was pretty when she was mad. Shame she had a boyfriend.
I’d known Lila since high school, the notorious rule follower and teacher’s pet, thumbing her nose at the trouble the rest of us got in and refusing invitations to parties in favor of SAT prep. Her sister, Ivy, worked here then and stuck around like I had, and though Lila’d had every opportunity to join the gang, she’d happily declined. She’d ignored me then, and she ignored me now, outside of storming into our flower shop to get onto us—or me specifically—for whatever wedding we had, were, or would provide flowers for. As a high-profile wedding planner, I supposed that was her right.
The only bearable thing about it was the chance to give her just a little hell, simply because I knew she could take it and I could take whatever she gave back.
As she approached, her lips set in a firm line, red as blood against the milk of her skin. The bridge of her nose was short, though long enough to look down at everyone from her high horse—or high heels, as it were—but her eyes always struck me beyond all else, cool and gray as a winter’s afternoon, tight with suspicion, hard with the bite of demand. Incongruent to the impeccable, pallid shades of snow was her hair, a shining crimson too bright for all that ivory. It was as perfectly right as it was utterly unnatural, the only indicator that she ran on hot coals and gasoline, just waiting for a match to strike so she could ignite. Just as she had once a week—typically in my direction—since she’d started using Longbourne’s flowers for her events.
That red hair bounced with every click of her heels as she rounded the corner of the aisle and marched toward me, her eyes narrowing another tick when they met mine. Tess, our lead florist, followed with an apologetic look on her face.
My lips tilted higher on one side. And with a shield of calm, unaffected charm in place, I leaned on the handle of my shovel, ready to catch whatever Lila threw at me.
“Coral,” she snapped as she approached. “You were supposed to give me coral chrysanthemums for the Berkshire wedding, and you sent pink.” She stopped a few feet in front of me, crossing her arms.
I offered an easy smile. “I cut those flowers myself, picked the best stock from our Gigi mums, just like you asked.”
“Then why were they the wrong color? Do you have any idea the tantrum Johanna Berkshire threw over those flowers? She tried to get me fired.”
A chuckle through my nose. “Sounds like she needs to get some real problems.”
She eyed me as she drew a breath to fuel her furnace. “For years, my sister has begged me to bring Longbourne business, and I refused for exactly this reason. If it hadn’t been for all your recent press, I never would have put my ass on the line. But if I say coral, I expect coral. Not pink. Not fuchsia. Not goddamn watermelon or flamingo or anything but coral.”
“Sorry, Ms. Parker,” I answered lazily. “Won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t.”
“How about we issue the Berkshires a partial refund for the trouble?”
Suspicion sparked in her gaze. “I’m sure that would help.”
“Then consider it done.”
Those cool eyes narrowed even more. “I need someone to come to a venue in Midtown to measure for arbors and garlands. They’ve requested an archway, and one of you needs to come take the measurements.”
Dad cast me a glance that said not it. The way Tess glared at the back of Lila’s head, I figured she’d just as soon claw her in the back with a hand rake than help her measure anything. Lila’s sister Ivy—who was a florist at Longbourne—was entirely too pregnant to measure anything but her uterus, and Wendy, our newest addition, just wasn’t experienced enough.
My brother Luke might have done it, but something told me I wanted to be the one to handle Lila Parker.
“Sure. When and where?”
“Tomorrow, if you can manage it. I can meet you at three, 49th and 5th. I’m going to need an archway long enough for the wedding party to stand inside, and the arbor will need a special design built in the shape of a triangle. It’s at the—” She paused, lips flattening. “Shouldn’t you be taking notes?”
I tapped my temple. “Got it all right here.”
Color rose in her cheeks as she drew a slow breath through her nose. “I really think you should write it down.”
“What, don’t trust me?”
“I don’t know what instills more faith—that you can’t tell the difference between shades of pink or that your shirt says Can You Dig It? on the front.”
I glanced down at my chest, flicking at a streak of dirt like I gave a shit what she thought. “Listen, Priss. I’ll be where you say, when you say, ready and at your service.”
A pause while she stared me down, seeming to weigh her options. “All right, Filthy. Can you at least wear a clean shirt? This venue books for two-hundred-thousand per event, and I don’t want to have to get you in through the service entrance.”
“Deal,” I said, extending a hand in challenge. It was as filthy like she’d said, with crescents of dirt under my nails and enough soil in the creases of my palms to grow zucchinis.
Her eyes dropped to my hand, and for a moment, I was positive she’d refuse. But somewhere in that pretty little head of hers existed some form of manners and a healthy helping of pride, so she slipped that spotless, manicured hand into my dirty, callused one.
It was soft and warm, though her fingers were strong, gripping my hand and pumping it once, firm and definitive, before taking it back.
Instantly, I felt guilty for daring her—her skin was spoiled with streaks and flecks of dirt. To her credit, she didn’t even dust it off. Instead, she held up her chin and gave me a quietly confrontational glare.
“I’ll give Ivy the exact address. At least I know she’ll write it down.”
“Whatever you have to do,” I said, returning my forearm to the handle of the shovel, not missing the flick of her eyes to my shoulders and the cross of my arms.
“Tomorrow, then. Don’t be late.” She tugged tugged the hem of her jacket, straightening it to match the yardstick that was her spine, and once again I lamented taking her hand. A scuff of dirt now sullied the very edge of that white tailored coat.
Before I could apologize, she turned on her heel to walk away.
What she didn’t realize—the cat had taken up post directly behind her.
The moment stretched as she tilted in a successful attempt to avoid impaling Brutus with her heel, and when that heel came down, it caught in the seam of concrete. Her long legs twisted, arms shooting out for balance but finding none. Fast, but not fast enough, I moved for her, the shovel hitting the ground with a clang as that pristine white ass of hers landed flat in the Black-eyed Susans and that fresh coat of soil I’d just laid down.
Brutus took a seat next to Tess’s feet, curling his tail around himself and watching Lila with what I swore was a wry smile.
My urge to laugh was so intense, it caught in my chest, frozen by the sheer outrage on her face and utter hysteria of the sight of her, so clean and white against the browns and greens and golds of the flowerbed. A slow heave of her chest as she breathed fire. The pink of her cheeks flaring to red. The gray of her eyes igniting into a cruel shade of blue, illuminated by the inferno of her thoughts.
I stepped up, unable to school my face as I extended a hand, this time to help her up.
But she scowled, slapping my hand away. “I’ve got it,” she shot, planting her palms in the dirt to push herself up.
As I backed out of the way, I watched her swipe at her ass, too furious to realize she’d only smudged the dirt around.
Tess removed her hands from her mouth, unable to right her face any better than I had. “Here, let me help you—”
“I said, I’ve got it.” Lila’s voice was deadly calm, and at the sound, Tess pinned her lips between her teeth and stepped out of the way.
“Tomorrow,” Lila snapped at me over her shoulder, smoothing the shining waves of her hair, which remained undisturbed by her tumble.
“See you then,” I answered with a nod.
And then I watched that dirty ass stride proudly out the door.
The second it swung closed, laughter bubbled out of Tess, and at the sound, there was no containing my own. Even Dad joined in, shoulders shaking gently.
“Oh, the poor Susans,” Tess said, swiping at a tear. “Look, her ass print is still there,” she squeaked before succumbing to another bout of laughter.
“The look on her face,” I said with the shake of my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so mad. Not even you, Tess.”
“And that’s saying something,” she added, resting her palm on her belly like she’d just done a hundred sit-ups. “God, if Ivy and Lila didn’t look like twins, I’d never believe they were related.”
“I didn’t remember her being this…” I started.
“I was gonna say bossy, but okay.”
Tess sighed. “She wasn’t kidding about sticking her neck out. She’s handling this huge celebrity wedding on her own, and her senior is a total asshole, breathing down her neck and micromanaging her at every turn. Addison is constantly looking for reasons to throw Lila under the bus, and if we screw up, Addison will blame Lila. But even though she’s a pain, the business is good for us. Archer Events handles the biggest weddings in the city, and that’s putting us in the spotlight. We’ve just gotta deal with all the stress that comes with doing weddings.”
“Like bridezillas and entitled wedding planners?” I asked.
“Exactly.” Tess sighed. “Although, I don’t know what we’re going to do with Lila when Ivy is on maternity leave and isn’t here to manage her. Today was bad enough, and Ivy was just at a doctor’s appointment.”
Dad dusted off his hands. “If she got past you, Tess, I fear for us all.”
“I tried to tell her it wasn’t your fault,” Tess said, her eyes full of apology. “Those flowers went through three florists before it got to the wedding—which I told her—but she stormed right past me to yell at you about it.”
I shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, Tess—I can handle her.” At the disbelieving quirk of her mouth, I added, “I mean it. She can get as mad as she wants and I won’t get riled. I’ll hold the bucket so she can dump all her rage into it, and when she’s empty of it, I’ll get whatever done that she needs done. Trust me when I promise you this—Lila Parker cannot get to me.”
At that, Tess laughed. “Famous last words.”
And oh, if I’d only known how right she was.
Want more Bennet Brother goodness?
Grab Coming Up Roses, the first stand alone in the Bennett Brothers series, available now on Amazon in Kindle Unlimited!
Everyone hates parts of their job.
Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.
But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.
Except for Luke Bennet.
The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint. When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him. Almost.
He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.
Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.
Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.
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. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.
Just in time for holiday season travel and gifting, Audible released award-winning romance author Alyssa Cole’s Audible Original, The A.I. Who Loved Me, starring Regina Hall (The Hate U Give, Girls Trip, Little) and Mindy Kaling (The Mindy Project, The Office, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me). Listeners will love hearing Hall and Kaling bring this captivating romantic comedy – about a 36-year-old woman named Trinity Jordan who’s life gets turned upside down when her neighbor’s gorgeous nephew moves in – with a thrilling sci-fi twist to life.
Regina Hall commented: “Performing in the Audible Original ‘The A.I Who Loved Me,’ was a completely new and creatively challenging experience. Each character had their own voice, personality and emotions and I had fun crafting each and every one of them— particularly for the bio-human! I’m so excited for audiences to hear this amazing and truly unique love story.”
Mindy Kaling commented: “I’ve been a sucker for love stories since I was an awkward middle-schooler, so I absolutely loved getting to be the voice of Penny in the new Audible Original The A.I. Who Loves Me. It was so fun to work on and the story is ridiculously juicy and romantic. Plus, I got to talk in a sassy, sexy robot voice so that was pretty cool too.”
Alyssa Cole commented: “I was already super excited about getting to work on this project with Audible, but my soul basically left my body when I was told about the casting. Mindy Kaling! Regina! Freaking!! Hall!!! Reading something I wrote! I still don’t quite believe it, but I feel incredibly lucky.”
The A.I. Who Loved Me is also available to members of Audible Escape. Kaling is the face of Audible Escape’s ‘Love Love’ campaign, which launched earlier this year.
The A.I. Who Loved Me
Trinity Jordan leads a quiet, normal life: working from home for the Hive, a multifunctional government research center, and recovering from the incident that sent her into a tailspin. But the life she’s trying to rebuild is plagued by mishaps when Li Wei, her neighbor’s super sexy and super strange nephew, moves in and turns things upside down.
Li Wei’s behavior is downright odd – and the attraction building between them is even more so. When an emergency pulls his aunt away from the apartment complex, Trinity decides to keep an eye on him…and slowly discovers that nothing is what it seems. For one thing, Li Wei isn’t just the hot guy next door – he’s the hot A.I. next door. In fact, he’s so advanced that he blurs the line between man and machine. It’s up to Trinity to help him achieve his objective of learning to be human, but danger is mounting as they figure out whether he’s capable of the most illogical human behavior of all…falling in love.
We are beyond excited to be sharing this release from Kristen Proby with you today! WONDER WITH ME is part of her With Me in Seattle series and it is releasing as part of 1001 Dark Nights. It just went live today! Check out an excerpt and book trailer from the title below. Click here to grab your copy now.
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kristen Proby comes a new story in her With Me In Seattle series…
Reed Taylor doesn’t pay much attention to the holidays—until he receives a surprise present. Four-year-old Piper is the daughter he never knew about, and with the death of her mother, is also now the roommate he never expected. He’s determined to make their first Christmas together one she’ll never forget.
Noel Thompson has gotten her share of strange requests in her career as an interior designer. The call to design a beautiful home for Christmas is more like a dream come true. And that was before she met her new employer—sexy and mysterious, he’s everything she ever hoped Santa would bring her.
As Noel showers his home with holiday spirit, Reed showers Piper with love. And the busy life he’s created for himself no longer seems nearly as important as the one Noel is helping him build with his daughter. But if he can’t convince his decorator to stay, this could be the only year he feels the true wonder of the season.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
“Who decorated your home?” Noel asks in the kitchen. She’s using a camera to take photos of the rooms, and looks at me over the lens.
“I bought it like this,” I say and smile. “Furniture and all. So I’d have to ask the real estate agent. Why do you ask?”
She purses her lips and shakes her head. “It just doesn’t feel like you. And I know that sounds odd, considering I just met you, but it’s quite cold. There’s no color in here.”
“I spilled juice on the couch,” Piper admits. “And my mom always used to say that white furniture isn’t good with kids around.”
“She probably had a point,” Noel says with a wink. “The layout is brilliant, showing off the view.” She points to the accordion windows that open to the outdoor living space, and the view of the water beyond. “But the furniture is white, the rugs are white. Everything is white.”
“It’s clean,” I offer.
“It’s cold.” She wanders over to the staircase. “Will I be working upstairs?”
“Everywhere,” I confirm. I want Piper to have the best Christmas of her young life. After everything she’s been through this year, she deserves it. My daughter takes two of my fingers in her hand as we climb the stairs behind Noel and my heart catches. It still takes my breath away when she reaches for me, climbs in my lap or kisses my cheek. Piper is an affectionate little girl, which is something I’ve had to get used to, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“I want to show you my room,” Piper announces, pushing her way to the front and leading Noel down the hall.
Her room is across from mine, so I can hear her if she needs me. I’d originally put her down the hall, but that first night here in the house she had a horrible dream, and I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
I moved her things here, across from my room, the next morning.
“Oh my goodness,” Noel says from the threshold. “Piper, this is beautiful.”
“I got to pick it out myself,” Piper says proudly.
My daughter’s room looks like a princess threw up all over it. Pink upon pink upon pink flows everywhere, from her bedding, to the carpet, to the wall color. Her bed is a full-size canopy, with flowy curtains hanging down. I had a mural of happy flowers and butterflies painted on one wall.
“Finally, a room that a girl can get comfortable in,” Noel says, then sends me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t mean that to sound as bad as it does, it’s just this room is absolutely perfect for a little girl.”
“No offense taken,” I say as I lean my shoulder on the doorjamb and watch as Piper shows off her books and her dolls.
REVIEW QUOTES FOR KRISTEN’S NOVELS:
“No one does swoony alphas, strong women, and sexy love stories like Kristen Proby. She truly knows how to write romance with heart.” ~Laurelin Paige, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author
“Kristen Proby is the Nora Roberts of our generation.” ~Corinne Michaels, New York Timesbestselling author
“Kristen Proby is our go-to when we want to escape, when we want a love story with a slow burn, a stellar supporting cast, and heroes that have us swooning for days.” ~Christina Lauren, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author
“Proby has a knack for drawing readers in with her witty storytelling and heated romances that keep readers engaged until the very end. Once you sink your teeth into this juicy tale, you’ll find yourself wishing that the Seduction restaurant was actually in your city!” ~RT Book Reviews
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kristen Proby is the author of the bestselling With Me In Seattle and Love Under the Big Sky series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong, humorous characters with a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type; fiercely protective and a bit bossy, and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves.
Kristen lives in Montana, where she enjoys coffee, chocolate and sunshine. And naps.
Two sisters. One unsolved murder. A sickening plot for revenge.
Kiss Me With Lies, an all-new must-read romantic suspense from S.M. Soto, is available now!
When Mackenzie Wright attends her first real high school party, held somewhere deep in the woods of her small California town, no one expects to wake up the next morning to news of a gruesome murder. Especially not her own sister’s.
Just one unsolved murder and whatever’s left of the now deserted town.
Mackenzie has spent years with her sister’s death weighing heavily on her shoulders, but it isn’t until she stumbles across a photograph that changes everything for her. The memories, everything from that night, come flashing back in high-speed technicolor and Mackenzie soon finds herself obsessed with the truth.
Determined to find out what really happened to her sister, Mackenzie relies on that one photograph to give her the answers she needs by embedding herself into the lives of five of the wealthiest men in Los Angeles. Consumed by her need for revenge, Mackenzie infiltrates the world of the rich and elite, only to come face-to-face with an alluring complication in the form an elusive playboy.
When enemy lines are drawn, Mackenzie has to choose between her loyalty to her sister and the man who has stolen her heart.
S.M. Soto was born and raised in Northern, California where she currently resides with her son. Her love for reading began when she was a young girl, and has only continued to grow into adulthood. S.M. lives for reading books in the romance genre and writing novels with relatable characters. She refers to herself as a bit of a romance junkie. S.M. loves to connect with readers and eat copious of donuts that will surely lead to her demise.
Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new YA series along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.
“Stacey Lynn always knows how to perfectly balance sexy and sweet.”—New York Times bestselling author Lauren Layne
Weekend Fling, an all-new contemporary romance from Stacey Lynn is available now!
Fresh out of a long-term relationship, Willow Parks is working two jobs and caring for her mother, whose husband left her with nothing but a pile of bills. That’s why Willow made a vow: no men until she figures out her own life.
But while she may not need a man, she could use a break. And a weekend away at a California beach to clear her head? That’s appealing. Even if the offer comes from Trey Collins, the irresistible tech-mogul millionaire who visits her coffee shop every morning like clockwork—and needs a date for his best friend’s wedding. With an adorable, occasional stutter, he refuses to take no for an answer.
Once the weekend begins, Trey is intent on proving how good they can be together. Willow’s even feeling tempted to break her vow—until reality rudely interrupts her well-deserved getaway. There’s no way she and Trey have a future, not with the colossal amount of baggage Willow has to offer.
But Trey is used to getting what he wants. He just has his work cut out for him convincing her that they want the same thing.
Stacey Lynn likes her coffee with a dash of sugar, her heroes with a side of bossy, and her wine a deep shade of red.
The author of over thirty romance novels, many of which have been best-selling titles on Amazon, AppleBooks, and Barnes & Noble, she loves being able to turn her vivid imagination into a career that brings entertainment and joy to her readers. Focused on sports romance and emotional, small-town romance, she also loves stretching herself in different genres.
Born in Texas and raised in the Midwest, she now makes her home in North Carolina and loves all things Southern. Together with her ultimate tall, dark, and handsome hero, she has four children. Her life is a chaotic mess that fights with her Type-A, list-making, neurotically organized preferences and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
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