Title: Rival Radio Author: Kathryn Nolan Genre: Contemporary Romance
These two on-air enemies can’t stop rubbing each other the wrong way in the booth…and the right way in bed.
Theo
Whoever said “keep your enemies close” never had to share a small, dark sound booth with her. Daria Stone is the infuriating host of “Choosing Yourself.” The name is almost as ridiculous as the concept. Permanently single? Please. The woman’s made a career out of rejecting everything I stand for.
I’m looking for the one. The right woman who’s ready for marriage and a lifetime together. Not some sultry, stubborn vixen who makes my life a living hell and insists a husband can be replaced by a curated collection of bedroom toys. And I know she’s wearing those skin-tight leather pants just to annoy me.
Daria
Dr. Theo Chadwick is a professional pain in my…workplace. Sure—on the outside, the man is gorgeous. But he’s also obsessed with finding his better half and getting his radio show, “True Romance,” syndicated so he can give false hope to lovelorn listeners everywhere.
He keeps pushing my buttons with his arrogant “expertise” about how wrong I am. I just want to see him snap. Maybe that’s how I ended up here, pinned against a wall with my legs wrapped around his waist…whoops…
Can these enemies put their feud on hold and play nice in a shared timeslot to save their popular beach town radio station? Or will their sparks burn everything to the ground?
Author’s Note: One-click if you love forced proximity, breakroom bickering, “we’re just getting it out of our system” one-night stands, a rag-tag crew of DJs, and beachy, retro boardwalk magic.
Kathryn Nolan is an adventurous hippie chick and loves to write steamy romance. Her books are filled with slow-burn sexual tension, memorable characters, tons of heart — and are often set in wild and beautiful locations.
Kathryn started her writing career in elementary school, writing about Star Wars and Harry Potter and inventing love stories in her many journals. She blames her obsession with slow-burn on her similar obsession for The X-Files.
Kathryn is a wanderer at heart, and loves to spend her free time hiking, camping, and traveling in her camper van (“Van Morrison”) with her cute, nerdy husband and Walter, their rescue pup. Kathryn is a Philly girl who just moved back home after spending more than 8 years living in Northern California — and six months traveling across the country in her camper van.
Title: Love’s Last Kiss Author: Sharon Wray Genre: Romantic Suspense
Is love worth risking everything for?
Rose Guthrie, a reluctant erotic dancer, hasn’t trusted anyone since her parents’ death. Yet, to make money for her brother’s heart transplant, she agrees to deliver a sealed box to a mysterious buyer. Until the box—and the seller—disappear. Not surprised by the betrayal, her situation becomes more dangerous when she learns that a brutal arms dealer, known as the Prince, also wants the box and will kill everyone she loves for it. With one clue left, she breaks into Doom—Savannah’s violent, illegal fight club. Unfortunately, Doom’s referee—the sexy, ex-Army Ranger, Kade Dolan—stands in her way. Although she harbors a secret attraction to Kade, she can’t let him stop her. If she doesn’t deliver the box on time, she’ll lose everything. Including her own life.
Rose doesn’t trust disgraced Army Ranger, ex-con Kade Dolan, but that’s okay—he doesn’t trust himself either. Why? Because he lies to everyone about everything, including his time in Leavenworth and his job as an illegal fight club referee. Then there are his two side gigs. The first as an informant for the Prince, the leader of a secret, two-thousand-year-old private army. The second, loving from afar the beautiful, secretive Rose Guthrie. After the Prince discovers Rose is the courier of a lost 18th century artifact, he orders Kade to help her find the box before their greatest enemy does. If they succeed, Kade must return it to the Prince. If they fail, Kade must kill her.
Betrayal or death. When faced with an impossible choice, Kade can’t lie anymore, at least not when it comes to what he’s about to do the woman he loves. But when Rose uncovers Kade’s lies, they learn a terrible truth—the 18th century box holds a secret far deadlier than they imagined. A secret that could destroy them all.
Rose sat on the edge of the bed, closed her eyes, and clenched her fist until the silver compass watch warmed in her hand.
How could she trust Kade when she hardly knew him?
How could she be falling in love with him when she wasn’t sure she could trust him?
He moved, and she opened her eyes, surprised to see he’d picked up the silver bra. It’d been part of her most popular costume at Rage of Angels.
When its sequins sparkled in the sunlight, he said, “This was the costume you wore the night we met.”
She looked away but couldn’t stop the warm flush that traveled up her neck to her cheeks. She remembered that night. She’d been stripping in a cage that hung from the ceiling and had felt his stare from near the stage, where he’d broken up a fight.
The first time she’d met his blue gaze, something inside her had shifted. He hadn’t looked at her with disdain or disgust or desire. He’d just regarded her as if he understood—she was simply a woman in a cage. A woman in a desperate situation. A woman with no other options.
In that moment, the iron straps around her heart loosened the smallest bit.
“I know the truth, Rose.” He laid the bra across her knees and sat next to her. “That night, I saw it in your eyes. The woman who wore this was a character in a story. A wandering ship in a storm.” He paused when the church’s bells rang eleven a.m. “You pretended to be empty—like a bell tower without a bell. Until we spoke.”
How did he have the words to describe how she’d felt in that cage? Seen as an object, unseen as a woman. A woman with her own desires and fears and dreams. “After my set, I was walking back to the locker room, and you offered me a glass of water.”
His smile brightened his face. “Do you remember what you said to me?”
She shook her head.
“You told me you didn’t date bouncers or bartenders.” He laughed beneath his breath. “Then you walked away.”
“That was rude.” She placed the compass watch on the bed. The stream of sunshine highlighted the etching of an eight-pointed star on the silver cover.
“No.” He took her hands and squeezed. “I recognized it for what it was—self-protection. I understood then, and I understand now. You have no reason to trust me. I’m an ex-con, Army Ranger, Doom referee and fighter, gym employee, and my life is owned by the Fianna.”
“Surely you’ve paid the Fianna back for releasing you from prison.”
“Rose”—He kissed the back of one hand and then the other—“it doesn’t work that way. I belong to them until they decide I don’t.”
She pulled her hands out of his grasp and stood quickly. “What does that mean?”
He stood as well but didn’t approach her. “I can’t tell you.”
Her cheeks burned, and she moved toward the window. Outside, the oak tree separating her from the dead appeared so strong and steady. Especially compared to the fact that her world felt like it was falling off its axis. “You ask me to trust you, yet you admit you’re keeping secrets.”
He came up behind her and touched her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
She turned halfway to see his profile. He didn’t meet her gaze. His sight was fixed on the tree where Magnus had stood.
“Kade,” she asked softly, “are you going to give the Fianna my box?”
“No.” He turned her until they faced each other. His lips lowered until they hovered over hers. “Like I said last night, I’m in love with you.”
“That’s not possible.” She backed away, and he dropped his hands. “We hardly know each other. I’ve caused you nothing but problems. And you’re keeping secrets.”
He moved forward with determination, and she retreated until her back hit the wall. His gaze darkened, making his eyes appear more black than blue. He took her shoulders and drew her against him. “I promise you, Tempest Rose Guthrie, I will return.” His lips met hers in a firestorm of need and want and desire. He held her so close, every inch of her soft body was up against hard muscles. The kiss started out demanding, as if daring her to object. But when she relaxed against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, he deepened the kiss until she melted into his embrace.
Sharon is a librarian who once studied dress design in the couture houses of Paris and now writes of novels of suspense, adventure, and love. A caretaker of Donut the one-eyed rescue dog, she’s addicted to snapping photos and eating Oreos.
She writes the bestselling Deadly Force romantic suspense series where smart, sexy women teach their alpha males that Grace always defeats Reckoning.
Title: Pura Vida Author: Jim Utsler Genre: Mystery
Detroit homicide detective Jacob Miller has been accused of many things, but being smart isn’t one of them. The murder of drug dealer Willy is proof enough, but not covering it up is even worse. So why would he think that stealing a fellow inmate’s hidden fortune is any wiser, especially when an ex-mafia family head is after the same thing?
But even the stupidest people have occasional flashes of brilliance, and Jacob is no exception. After being released from prison and moving to sunny Costa Rica, he solves an international murder mystery involving the usual suspects: love, lust, and murder.
Despite that mildly brainiac feather in his cap, he still has to deal with the beef between him, his fellow inmate, and the mob boss…and the violent fallout that ensues.
He was dressed in casual slacks and shirt—and just as casually entered the room. He was probably thinking, An electrical glitch ofsome sort. I was sure he hadn’t thought that someone had broken into his house to do—well, whatever. He walked over to the stereo
and hit the power button.
The music died. He looked around the room but didn’t see me behind the desk, even though I wasn’t hiding. He didn’t see Bob behind the door either, probably because he was hiding. As he was about to leave, I turned on the banker’s lamp. Pusser blinked at the sudden light.
“What—” he said, probably meaning to tack “—the hell?” on the end of that. And then he saw me, blinked a few more times, and simply muttered, “Son of a bitch.”
“Hey, you remember me,” I said.
Pusser turned as I motioned for Bob to close the door.
“I suppose you know why I’m here,” I said.
“I have no fucking clue,” he replied. “And you better get the fuck out. I’m sure the police are on their way right now.”
“What? The alarm system? Your back door was open.”
He just stood there, staring at me, not so casual now. “So why are you here?” he finally said. “And who’s this?” he added, throwing a thumb over his shoulder toward Bob.
“He’s no one. No offense, Bob.” Bob didn’t say anything.
“And why am I here?” I continued.
“Yeah.”
“Because…” I paused. “Bob, would you mind stepping out for a minute?”
Bob shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever.” He closed the door behind himself.
“So, like I was saying—”
“Look, you and your sister and your friend, you already bled me dry. There’s no more.”
I looked around his room, office, study, and all the expensive baubles here and there. I thought about the trophy car his trophy wife drove, the gate that opened and closed automatically, the everyday maid, the pool and hot tub out back. “Looks like you don’t
have it so bad.”
“This, this is all my wife’s. I don’t own a damn thing. Between what you and Patari did, you left me nothing.”
“Oh, c’mon,” I said. “It might be in your wife’s name, but it’s yours. I’m sure you, your accountant and attorney Condon took good care of that.”
“And what you did?”
I shook my head. “That’s kind of off the table right now.”
“Is it?” He stood a little straighter now, more forcefully. He was going into offensive, CXO mode.
