Title: The Reluctant Bride Author: Monica Murphy Genre: Contemporary Romance
Everyone’s for sale, including me. One moment I’m the forgotten daughter of one of the most wealthy families in the country, and the next I’m the blushing bride in an arranged marriage. My fate is sealed in my wedded union with a complete stranger.
In public, Perry Constantine is the life of the party. Easygoing. Adored. In private, he’s brooding. Dark. Angry. But so am I. It’s a contest of wills to see who will break in the bedroom first, and while I try to remain strong, I find myself craving the very man I swore to hate.
I shuffle through the papers—damn this contract is thick—until I come across a photo. I pull it out and stare at it, trying to come up with some sort of feeling I might have toward this Charlotte Lancaster person upon first seeing her.
Nothing. I feel nothing.
The photo is from what I can only assume is a debutante ball.
She’s wearing a ridiculous white dress that looks like an over frosted wedding cake.
Her smile is small. Reluctant. Her eyes are blue, crystal clear like a perfect spring sky. Her hair is blonde and done up in the most elaborate style it overwhelms her small features.
I prefer brunettes. Happy, sexy as fuck brunettes who know how to have a good time and laugh a lot. Redheads too.
I don’t discriminate.
Well, I might discriminate against grumpy looking blondes who seem pissed at the world.
“She looks like an angry virgin,” I finally say, my gaze still on the photo.
“Perry,” Mother admonishes.
Winston smothers a laugh.
“Didn’t she refuse to dance with every guy who asked her the night of her debut?” I remember reading something about this. My mother and Winston share a look, but don’t answer me. “Yeah, pretty sure she even turned down her father. Bet that pissed him off.”
“None of that matters,” Mother says. “I’m sure she’s changed.”
Yeah right.
I toss the photo onto the table, immediately banishing her face from my thoughts.
“She’s not my type.” “If she spreads her legs, she’s your type,” Winston says gruffly.
Solma is a fighter. Trained by her village Steward to protect their community from the predators of their harsh world, she is fierce and loyal. But how can she protect her friends and family from crop failure and starvation? With flying insects extinct for over a century, nowhere on the forsaken continent of Alphor is safe and Solma is terrified her little brother, Warren, will be one of the next to die. The villagers cling to life, waiting for the Earth Whisperers—mysterious nomads with a strange magic that helps plants grow—to arrive.
But then Warren finds something. Something impossible. When the first bee in a hundred years crawls out of the earth, Warren forms a strange bond with the creature and Solma fears he might have a new power. One that leaders of Alphor would kill for. As she and Warren fight to keep the bee secret and safe, word of this miracle sweeps the continent. Allies and enemies alike descend on the village. Some demand the bees for themselves, others want to destroy the colony to level the odds. When words become threats and then violence, Solma and Warren are caught in the conflict, and now it isn’t just the bees in danger.
When whoever controls the bees controls the world, how will Solma and Warren know who to trust?
The crowd parts and a visiting Steward strides to face Olive. It’s the woman with the silk scarf. She’s at least half a head taller than Olive and gets close enough so that she can look down at her, their noses inches apart. Solma bristles before she realizes what she’s doing and almost steps in, knife in hand, but someone grabs her arm. She glances down to see Cobra holding her wrist, eyes imploring. Solma scowls and wrenches her arm free, but it’s enough to stop her diving in and starting the scuffle anew.
The Steward grins down at Olive, teeth bared like a predator. “We’ll go home,” she murmurs. “When your pathetic little village gives us its bees.”
Olive cocks her pistol and presses it up under the Steward’s chin. There’s a gasp from the crowd and the Steward’s guards brandish their weapons again. Olive either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“Don’t think I won’t,” Olive snarls. “’Cos I will.”
Solma believes her. She clutches her belly to quell the churning inside it. Could Olive really shoot an unarmed woman? Except …
There’s a flash of steel at the woman’s hip and Solma sees with a kick of her heart that the woman is not unarmed at all. The steel winks in the sinking sun. The Steward’s grin widens and Solma sees, as if the whole world has slowed down, Olive’s eyes widen in sudden realization.
Rebecca has been obsessed with two things since she learned to walk and talk: stories and animals. Luckily, the two seem to be very compatible. Rebecca writes stories set in strange worlds filled with bizarre creatures, strong female characters and magical powers. She started her writing career as a poet, performing all over the country and publishing her first collection, Octopus Medicine, with Two Rivers Press in 2017.
In addition to writing, Rebecca is also a teacher and, in 2018, decided that she wanted to write quality books for the young people she works with. Her books tend towards themes of respect for the environment, protecting the planet and the new generations challenging the old to face up to their mistakes.
She lives in Reading, UK, with her unusual family, which includes herself and her partner, a friendly little mini-lop rabbit (called Cleo) and a gregarious and feisty quaker parrot (called Maya).
There are few things I enjoy more than messing with Taylor Palmer. She’s such a priss with her tight, corporate skirts and her high heels. Someone’s got to bring her down to Earth.
She glares at me and parades her dates into my bar like she thinks it’ll bother me. She’s on the hunt for a husband, but she’s doing it all wrong. She’s never going to be into one of these nerds. She really wants a man like me, but I’m not on the market.
I can help her find a guy she can stomach. And if she decides to break her celibacy streak with me in the meantime, good for her…and me. But she better not get attached. She also needs to quit making me feel things I don’t understand.
Taylor
I’ll never forgive John Chapman for what he did to my best friend. I don’t care that she’s forgiven him, is close friends with him now, and even seems to be pushing me toward him. It’s because he and I are the last two single people in our friend group. All will be right in the world if he and I just connect. Forget it.
He fancies himself some kind of dating coach. He says he can find me the right guy. He certainly couldn’t do worse than I’ve been doing. I guess it won’t hurt to let him help.
The only problem is he won’t quit making his own moves on me, and they are working, impressively. I can’t fall for him. He’s made that crystal clear. But as we grow closer, I have to wonder if I’m chipping away at his cement walls, just a little bit.
Welcome to Destiny Dunes, where the only thing hotter than the Florida sun is the romance between this resort’s employees. Each book in this steamy series focuses on your favorite romance tropes. Once you enter the gates of Destiny Dunes, you’ll never want to leave!
“Are you watching this at all, or are you just eating my ice cream?” Chapman asks.
“I thought it was my ice cream.”
We both stick our spoons in at the same time and they clatter together. “Back off,” he says, tapping my spoon with his.
“I was in here first,” I say.
He gets a spoonful. “Fine, take it,” he says, putting it in my mouth. It happens so fast that I accept it without argument. He stares at me, and I can feel the moment moving into something more intimate. I search for a delay tactic while I figure out where I want this to go with him tonight.
I put my palm to my forehead. “Oh no, brain freeze,” I say through my mouthful of ice cream.
“Amateur,” he says, getting a bite. He watches me, and then wraps his arm around my head, covering my forehead with his giant hand. “I’ll warm you up.”
I slide my gaze over to him, unable to control my draw to him, and he gives me that mischievous look. I can feel him coming in for a kiss. His lips meet mine, and I’m about to sink in, when my senses slap me across my face. I pull away. “What are you doing?”
“I’m healing you from your brain freeze.”
“With your lips?”
“My kiss doesn’t make you hot?”
If he only knew. “I thought we weren’t allowed to kiss again.”
“We’ve already broken the seal. We can kiss all we want.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll try to slide a ring on your finger while you’re not looking?”
“We’ll be fine as long as you make sure you’re not falling for me.”
“What makes you think your kisses are so electric that I’m going to fall all over myself to be with you?”
“It might not even necessarily be just me. Let’s face it, you’re a modest girl. I doubt you sleep around very much. I doubt you even kiss guys often.”
I glare at him.
“Am I wrong?”
I don’t answer. I’m not giving him the satisfaction.
“All these guys you’ve been going on these dates with, have you been kissing them good night?”
I remain silent.
He raises his eyebrows. “Taylor, come on. You have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen.”
“Why are you so interested in this?”
“Because I think you don’t kiss guys often. And I don’t want you to get the wrong idea that since we’ve kissed a couple of times now, that means we’re some kind of thing. Because we’re not anything.”
I take the ice cream and stand up. “You have made that so clear, especially when you kissed me just now. Crystal clear.” I walk to the kitchen and shove the carton in the freezer.
He follows me in there. “I thought it might be a good idea for you to get a little practice in.”
“You arrogant asshole. I’ve kissed plenty of guys.”
“Who’s the last one you kissed before me? Easton?”
I give him a rueful smile. “It eats you up that he and I lived together, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not buying that you weren’t with him.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not selling anything.”
He takes a step toward me, and I take one backward, finding my butt against the counter and my heart pounding.
“Admit you’re lying,” he says.
“Admit you’re jealous.”
“Why would I be jealous?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
“I’m setting you up with other guys. If I were jealous, I wouldn’t be doing that.”
“Why are you doing that, by the way?”
“I’m scratching your back and you’re scratching mine.”
I shake my head at him.
“We could help each other out in other ways,” he says.
“Oh yeah?”
He runs his knuckle up my arm, sending a shimmer through my chest. “We could satisfy a certain need for each another.”
Melissa Chambers writes contemporary novels for young, new, and actual adults. A Nashville native, she spends her days working in the music industry and her nights tapping away at her keyboard. While she’s slightly obsessed with alt rock, she leaves the guitar playing to her husband and kid. She never misses a chance to play a tennis match, listen to an audiobook, or eat a bowl of ice cream. (Rocky road, please!) She has served as president for the Music City Romance Writers and is the author of the Love Along Hwy 30A series, the Before Forever series (YA), and Courting Carlyn (YA).
