Title: Crash Author: M.T. Morgan Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
Easton
I’ve always hated Jasmine. I couldn’t pinpoint why, something about her just got under my skin.
Then she snitched on me. Now, I live to torment her. Bask in the glory of her tears.
One kiss put her on my radar.
One bet had my world in a downward spiral.
And my heart? It found its reason for beating… until she broke it.
Jasmine
I just wanted to finish school and leave my legacy behind. I didn’t want to sling drugs like my dad or become a mafia princess like my mom. I wanted to be an artist, but everyone keeps telling me it’s not possible.
My plan was to escape. But then Easton came along, tormenting me and crushing my heart in the palm of his hand.
She lives in Texas with her husband and two children. She enjoys reading a good fantasy/PNR romance as well as a good cup of coffee. She has old lady tendencies even though she’s in her mid-twenties. And writing her own bio is very cringy worthy to her.
M.T. Morgan tends to bounce around the romance genre. She may make you laugh, cry and cringe. It just depends on her mood.
Writer of all things untamed, romantic and free, Ivy Wild never planned on becoming a romance novelist. In fact, she hated romance as a kid and was quite proud of that fact. Basically, life is weird.
Married to her own alpha hero, she currently lives in various places of the world at various times thanks to his military career.
Especially when the player is the sinfully handsome, foul-mouthed Holden Sanders… my new library assistant.
The benched bad boy needed an image makeover, I needed to save my job, and his star status was just what the library ordered to raise awareness for our fundraising campaign. The press can’t get enough of Mr. Growly reading to kids.
It’s win-win and completely platonic.
Until I need a shoulder to cry on after drowning my heartbreak in too many margaritas. I only typed that invitation to his brawny biceps and perfect pectorals for fun–I never meant to hit send. Holden isn’t the kind of guy to care about tears and feelings, least of all mine. He’s made it clear good girls aren’t his type.
But he shows up–with his strapping shoulder, a box of tissues and a supersized bag of Doritos.
That’s when I realize there’s more to him than meets the eye.
One soulful, smoldering mistake of a kiss has me craving more, and the heat between us quickly builds to a blaze neither of us can control.
But I’m not the only one guarding secrets, and Holden’s might push us to the breaking point.
Even if I’m surrounded by books, I know better than to believe in storybook endings. And yet, I want to believe… Because I know he’s a keeper
“Mare, I had no idea what I was in for when you stormed out of the library that day, looking to kill me for skirting my parental responsibilities.”
She squints, then her expression turns wry. “I’d never kill a person.” She tilts her head from side to side, considering. “Well, unless you burned a book.”
Nodding, I kiss her softly. “I respect that. And I want you to know you can trust me. I know people have left you behind in your past, but I hope you believe me when I tell you I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you.” As I say the words, I believe they’re true. If I move to England, I hope she loves me enough to come with me. Even if she hasn’t said the words.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe relief or acknowledgment that she’s not going anywhere either. I want to believe she feels the same way.
I don’t expect her forehead to crease and her eyes to glisten with tears, which swell until they can no longer be contained and roll down her cheeks before she buries her face in my shoulder.
Turning us to the side, I wrap her in my arms, as the flow of tears turns to quiet sobs. I smooth her hair and give her the outlet she needs, even though I feel guilty for making her cry.
With a sniff, she leans her head away and meets my gaze. Her wet eyes glisten above pink cheeks. I wipe a remaining tear away with the pad of my thumb and rub her back gently.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“You didn’t,” she whispers, wiping her eyes. A moment later she laughs at the lie. “It was stuck inside me. You just let it out.” She exhales, tucking the emotions away.
“You okay?” I want to tread carefully until I know where she is in her head.
Nodding, she reaches for my cheek and cups the side of my face. “Thank you for saying that. I’d never ask that of you, but thank you. I love you. So much.”
I’ve been waiting to hear those words. For a moment, I’m convinced that everything between us can stay this easy. We’re both cautious, but we can cross each new line together. It feels powerful to be able to do that with her.
“I know you’d never ask. That’s why I said it. I wanted you to know.”
“I’m not going anywhere either.”
I’m struck by a foreign but welcome feeling, a realization that I can’t go backward now. I can’t be okay without her in my world. I need to tell her about the Premier League, but it can wait another day. She likes to live in the present.
She loves me.
Everything between us is still so fragile and new and good. I don’t want anything to change us. One more day won’t hurt.
It’s a rough world out there, and we all sometimes need a good, romantic beach read, even if we can’t make it to the beach. I’ve spent many lazy days walking the streets of Paris and other gorgeous European cities, and if I’m doing it right, I’m bringing you a dash of romance and a vacay fantasy.
I can’t sit still, so when I’m not hiking, biking or running, I’m playing a very average game of tennis. Background music for writing undoubtedly features some U2, Lizzo, Billy Joel, Pink, Taylor Swift, and Led Zeppelin. Not necessarily in that order. And if I could only eat one food group, it would be cheese. Or wine. Or bread. Are those food groups? Whatever.
Fun-loving Isla Waterstone loves her laid-back life on Mariposa Island. She has everything she could ever want…a great job as a journalist for the local paper, amazing friends, and pink sand beaches with stunning tropical sunsets.
The only problem with tiny tropical islands? There are more sea turtles than single men.
So when British billionaire Declan Fox and his aristocratic friend arrive, Isla’s friends know this can mean only one thing.
Marriage.
After all, it’s a truth universally acknowledged, when a single billionaire travels to a tropical island, he must be in want of a wife.
But Isla isn’t convinced. Especially because Declan is the most rude, arrogant, prideful man she’s ever met.
Or is he?
From tropical Mariposa to England and back again, this playful summer romcom finds that first impressions don’t always tell the whole story.
Jimmy starts the propeller and the noise fills the cabin. Percy and Arya lean closer together to continue their conversation. When Jimmy starts moving the plane forward I close my eyes, but unfortunately, my head spins so much that I have to open them again.
When I do, I notice Declan staring at me.
“Yes?” I ask.
He scowls. “You made a noise.”
I probably did. In fact, I imagine it was a noise like “please, oh please, please fly okay.”
“I’m fine,” I say.
Declan looks down at my hands and makes a disbelieving noise. I look down too. I’m gripping the seats and my knuckles have turned white.
The plane bumps down the runway and my stomach flips with each little bump.
“Are you afraid to fly?” asks Declan. He has a judgy look on his face. “How can you live on an island and be afraid of flying? Don’t you have to fly to go anywhere else in the world?”
I glare at him. His people skills are terrible. “I’m not afraid of flying.”
He makes another disbelieving noise.
“I’m not,” I say.
“Just like you don’t eat balls very often,” he says. Then he smirks at me.
I gasp and my back goes poker straight. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure he remembered me, or recognized me from the Valentine’s Day Brunch, but I am now.
“It’s none of your business how often I eat balls,” I hiss at him. Then I flush. “And I’m talking about chocolate, you…you…man.” My insult falls flat. It’s hard to be eloquent when you’re drugged up and terrified of flying.
“I know what you’re up to,” he says, and his lip curls in a villain-ish sort of way.
What’s he talking about?
“You don’t know anything,” I say. Because…comebacks.
He shakes his head and looks at me like I’m the larva of a slug. “I heard your friends talking in the terminal. ‘Land the white whale. Nab a billionaire. Blah blah blah.’ Trust me, La-La. I’ve had enough gold diggers after me to recognize one from a mile away. I’m not interested.”
My mouth drops open and I try to formulate a comeback. Instead, all I manage are little choking noises of outrage. Finally, I say, “I’m not a dold gigger…” I shake my head. That wasn’t right. Darn prescription. “Gold digger,” I correct.
Declan snorts and turns back to his phone, effectively dismissing me.
However, I’m a person, not a dog he can dismiss or beckon at his convenience. So I lean over and forcefully poke his arm with my pointer finger.
He glances up and gives me an affronted look. “Yes?”
“I’m not a gold digger,” I say again.
“Methinks thou protesteth too much.”
I shake my fuddled head. “I just want to set the record straight. I wouldn’t chase you, lust after you, date you, or marry you, even if you and I were stranded on a deserted island together, or if you were the last man on earth. Billionaire or bankrupt, I don’t care. Because I don’t like you. Got it? I don’t like you.”
Declan gives me a tight-lipped smile. “The feeling’s mutual,” he says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have important things to do.”
Implying that I’m not important.
Well.
“So do I,” I say.
I resist the urge to stick out my tongue.
What a jerk.
I turn away from him, my head spinning. When I look out the little oval window next to my seat, I see with surprise that we’re high in the sky, soaring over the azure-colored sea. I was so distracted by Declan that I forgot about my terror over take-off, and my fear of flying.
I look down and make out the white sail of a sailboat, the dark greenish-black smudges of a reef, and a tiny uninhabited island.
I glance over at Declan. It’s amazing. It seems that my complete and utter loathing and fear of flying was finally wiped out. I don’t need anti-anxiety medication, therapy, or any other tricks. I just need to replace it with an even greater loathing – that of Declan Fox.
I grin gleefully. At that moment he looks up, sees my expression and scowls at me.
Amazing. Wonderful.
“It’s not going to work. You’re not pretty enough to tempt me. Nor are you eloquent or smart enough. Or friendly enough for that matter. Even when you smile. You can stop trying,” he says grumpily.
This makes me smile even more.
He’s awful, and that’s wonderful.
“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met,” I say with the biggest grin on my face.
“And you’re the most vulgar, greediest, average-looking gold digger I’ve ever met.” “Perfect,” I say with a smile.
Author Sarah Ready writes contemporary romance and romantic comedy. Her books have been described as “euphoric”, “heartwarming” and “laugh out loud”. Her debut novel The Fall in Love Checklist was hailed as “the unicorn read of 2020”. She loves to write fast-paced, emotionally compelling romances about quirky, smart women and the men who love them.
Before writing romance full-time Sarah had lots of fun teaching at an Ivy League. Then she realized she could have even more fun writing romance. Her favorite things after writing are adventuring and travel. You’ll frequently find her using her degree at a dino dig site, crawling into a cave, snorkeling, or on horseback riding through the jungle – all fodder for her next book. She’s lived in Scotland, Norway, Portugal, Switzerland and NYC. She currently lives in the Caribbean with her water-obsessed pup and her awesome family.
Life is hard. I learned that at an early age growing up on the South Side of Chicago. I accepted it, even came to expect it. With a sister who was a constant source of worry, and a track record of losing anyone even remotely close to me, trouble seemed to follow me no matter where I turned.
Some people were born lucky. I was just born.
That’s what I used to believe, anyway, until GQ. The gorgeous guy in the fancy clothes who for some reason decided to look twice at me. He gave me a place to call my own, a space to feel safe, and he made me believe in the impossible—that love was more than just a four-letter word.
Ryan
Life is unexpected. I learned that just recently when I walked into a bar on the South Side and found the love of my life—Jameson Clarke.
He’s everything I’ve always wanted, and yet somehow even better than I imagined. He’s brave, brash, protective of those he loves, and under all that bravado is a vulnerability that calls to my very soul.
Jameson’s a storm cloud, but he thinks I’m the sun. If that’s true, then I’m determined to break through the shadows of his past and steal his heart the way he’s stolen mine.
Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust and is the co-author of the fan-favorite erotic serial, Sex Addict. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”
A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction.
Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.
Title: See Me Author: Stacey Kennedy Series: Phoenix #4 Genre: Contemporary Romance
In the Phoenix club, fantasies come to life, but he wants her for real, and he’ll do anything to prove it in this deliciously sexy romance.
Lottie Harlow spends her days as a dog walker and her nights losing herself in wild fantasies at Phoenix, a members-only, voyeuristic sex club in New York City. Her anonymous existence is precisely planned. She must lay low, or risk facing the consequences of her family’s criminal past. She’s a ghost, and she likes it that way. But detective Hunt Walker is determined to uncover her secrets…
Hunt has always loved his nights at Phoenix, but they’re no longer enough. He wants more. He wants a relationship. He wants Lottie. He’s wanted her for years. The only problem? Lottie keeps him at a careful distance, never letting him get too close, ignoring the sizzling heat burning between them. He knows she’s intrigued by him, but she’s scared. He just can’t figure out why… But when enemies from her past come seeking revenge for her family’s deal gone wrong, Lottie’s secrets are revealed, and so is the explosive passion they’ve been fighting.
Soon, lust leads the way to love, but when Lottie’s brothers start threatening her, the line between right and wrong is blurred. Hunt becomes torn between his duty to his badge and his need to keep Lottie safe. But he’ll only get one chance to prove to Lottie that she’s worth fighting for… and that their love is worth the risk.
“Tell me who you think broke into your condo,” he said firmly.
She shook her head, forcing her shoulders back. “I don’t know.” She knew better than to totally write off her family, but she couldn’t think up a good enough reason why they’d break into her condo after all this time. Plus, she had paid a lot of money to ensure she was never found. For the first couple of years she’d been in New York City, she’d always looked over her shoulder, worried they’d catch up with her, demanding the money she’d stolen. But no one ever came. After the third year, she stopped looking, feeling safe in her new identity.
Hunt dipped his chin, bringing his eye level down to hers. “No idea at all who it could be?”
“Nope,” she said, striding off before he could look too deep and find answers that she couldn’t give him.
She felt his gaze following her, reading right through all the things she wasn’t telling him.
When he finally caught up with her on the way back to her condo, he blessedly shifted subjects. “Come stay with me until we catch the person responsible,” he offered.
Cars honked at each other as she shook her head adamantly. “Like hell they’re making me afraid of my own home.”
“Then I’ll take your couch. It’s not safe, Lottie.” When they stopped at the corner of the street and waited for the light to change, he arched an eyebrow. “I have a gun. You do not.”
“Good point,” she said. This spelled all kinds of dangerous, but Hunt would not relent, and she refused to leave her condo. “Okay, you’re right; it’s safer,” she conceded, knowing her limitations in protecting herself if someone broke in again. “I appreciate the offer.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said and began crossing the street. “We can grab my overnight bag before we go back to your place.”
All of this seemed unnecessary, but she realized as she inhaled the greasy aroma coming from the hot dog stand, that for the first time since she opened her condo’s door earlier, she could breathe a little easier.
When they arrived at the condo a half an hour later, the forensic unit was packing up. She sighed as she took in the state of the place. What a mess! Figuring she had to start somewhere, she moved to the living room, picked up the cushions off the floor, and placed them back on the couch.
After a short conversation, Hunt shut the front door behind the last cop and locked it. He moved to the liquor cabinet in the corner of her living room and poured them both a double shot of whiskey. He handed her the glass and watched her with a stern look, his well-crafted cop look. “Time’s up, Lottie.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She sipped her whiskey. A big, long sip.
His mouth twitched, but that was the only break in his intensity. “I rather enjoy when you make me work to know you. But I’m afraid, like I already said, time is up. Tell me what you’re hiding.”
She swallowed. Part of her wanted to tell him everything. Explain her entire past. But if Hunt knew about her past life as Marissa Ricci, and that she’d had her true identity buried, he’d have to tell Rhys. Then Archer would learn that she’d lied to them. She’d never be allowed back in Phoenix. She loved her new life, and that included her sensual life in Phoenix, and her friends who also belonged.
The air seemed too thin as Hunt took another step closer, erasing the distance between them. “I know there’s a reason you have refused, from day one, to not act on what’s between us. And I know that reason is tied to your break-in today.”
She looked to her glass, avoiding his penetrating stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His fingers dragged against her jawline before he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet the strength in his gaze. “Let me help you.”
She needed to shut this down. Now. Hunt was too smart, too insightful, too damn trained. Her heart began to hammer, making the room feel smaller and smaller. He’d peel all her layers back and expose all her secrets. She couldn’t allow that.
“Lottie,” he said, a pillar of strength.
Suddenly it occurred to her she knew exactly how to distract him. Ignoring the consequences, she placed her glass on the table and grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer. Before she could second-guess herself, she sealed her lips on his. He stiffened, seemly momentarily surprised, until he softened, wrapping his arms around her, bringing her tight against him with a low groan.
Her lips opened, and his followed, but he never quite gave her the kiss she suddenly, desperately needed.
When he broke away a few minutes later, he chuckled against her lips. “Shutting me up, huh? All right, Lottie, I’ll go along with that.” His hands fell to her hips, and he gave her a push until her back hit the wall. She gasped. Need stormed through her as his eyes darkened with arousal. “For now.”
Frenzied thoughts filled her mind as his mouth met hers again, but when he took over the kiss, her thoughts simply faded into nothingness.
She parted her mouth, and his tongue invaded, sliding against hers. His kiss was skilled, determined, and left her dripping. She slid her hands over his strong, flexing arms, shoulders, up his thick neck to the back of his head, running her fingers across the shaved hair.
He groaned, breaking the kiss so his lips could travel along her neck. His hand threaded in her hair, and she rolled her hips, heat pooling low in her body. His tongue flicked her ear lobe, and she moaned, a tease of how that tongue would feel elsewhere. “Can I touch you?” His breath tickled across her ear. The game was dangerous. And yet, and yet…she couldn’t stop from playing now that she felt him…tasted him. “Yes.”
Stacey Kennedy is a USA Today bestselling author who writes contemporary romances full of heat, heart, and happily ever afters. With over 50 titles published, her books have hit Amazon, B&N, and Apple Books bestseller lists. Stacey lives with her husband and two children in southwestern Ontario—in a city that’s just as charming as any of the small towns she creates. Most days, you’ll find her enjoying the outdoors with her family or venturing into the forest with her horse, Priya. Stacey’s just as happy curled up indoors, where she writes surrounded by her lazy dogs. She believes that sexy books about hot cowboys or alpha heroes can fix any bad day. But wine and chocolate help too.
Fame. Money. Status. An infinite number of women standing ringside in hopes of one night with him. These are all the things Carter Reynolds loves about being MMA royalty. As a UFC Heavyweight champion, and the son of the illustrious Matt Reynolds, Carter thinks he has everything he could ever want.
Until he comes face to face with Emma Jameson—the one who got away. The pair are bonded by a secret from their past, one that none in their inner circle can ever know about…
Thanks to her father, Emma is no stranger to the MMA world. UFC Middleweight champion, Ryley Jameson, is known far and wide for his scandalous antics in and out of the ring. His fame put her in the spotlight at a very early age. It even led to her lucrative modeling career and the opportunity for her to travel the world. Now Emma is back with the family of fighters she left behind and quickly discovers a darkness that has wriggled its way into the MMA fold.
Someone demands retribution for the sins of the past, and they’ve chosen to make Emma their first target. Determined to keep her safe, Carter will do whatever it takes to protect her, even if that means putting his life on the line.
As hidden truths are revealed, Carter and Emma find that no one in their circle is safe… and this is only the beginning.
Out of all the jobs I’ve had to do in my lifetime, this one was the hardest. I couldn’t concentrate with Carter’s hands on me. My photoshoot with Ryan only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity with Carter.
Chris clapped his hands. “All right, we’re done. You two sure did steam up my camera.”
Heat rising to my cheeks, I walked away to put distance between Carter and me, but he followed close on my heels. “We need to talk,” he demanded.
I jerked around, wishing like hell I didn’t have to look in his eyes. They were easy to get lost in, which was the last thing I needed right now. “About what?” I challenged, knowing he would keep following me if I didn’t acknowledge him. “You have your own life, and I have mine. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Carter’s eyes darkened as he looked down at me, his body towering over mine. “It’s what you wanted too. Or am I wrong? You seem pissed, and for the life of me, I don’t know why. I did exactly what you wanted.”
That wasn’t true. At the time, I was too afraid to tell Carter what I truly wanted. It was best to cut ties and lose him for good than really get my heart broken. Sadly, who was I kidding? It broke anyway.
A laugh escaped my lips, but there was no humor to it. “That’s for damn sure. The second I left for New York, you ended up cock deep in every woman you could get your hands on.”
Carter stepped closer, and I had no choice but to back up. “And you ended up with that fucktard downstairs. Are you two getting back together?”
The audacity was mind-boggling. Carter had no right to be angry about anything. Crossing my arms over my chest, I shot him a nasty glare. “That’s none of your business.”
The door opened, and Aleah came out, carrying my bag. What was she doing? She waved at me with a sheepish grin on her face. “Hey, girl. I’m going to be a while finishing up the interview with Ryan. Do you mind if Carter gives you a ride back to my place?”
“Wait, what?” I gasped, panic rising in my chest. “No, that’s not going to work.”
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t want you having to stay here. You’ll be bored out of your mind.”
Shaking my head, I said no a million times, but she completely ignored me. Aleah handed my bag to me and quickly took off for the door, waving as she hurried away. “I’ll see you later,” she shouted, the door shutting behind her.
Everything happened so fast that all I could do was stand there in shock. “This can’t be happening.” But once the shock wore off, I stormed to the door. “I’m calling a cab.”
Carter ran up beside me and slammed the door when I tried to open it. “No, you’re not.”
My eyes burned so hot I could feel the fire in my veins. “Like hell, I’m not. Get out of my way, Carter.”
He kept his hand on the door. “I heard about the letter, Emma. It’s not safe for you to be out and about alone.”
Of course, someone had to tell him. “I’m fine,” I snapped. “I can take care of myself. If you want me to show you, I can.” Carter smirked, and I shook my head. “Never mind. You’d probably like that too much.”
Carter shrugged. “Maybe so. But right now, you’re coming with me, even if I have to haul you over my shoulder and carry you right past your boyfriend. That’ll end up a giant fucking mess. He’s already told me you’re off-limits. I’d hate to have to break his legs before his next game.”
Carter had always been true to his word, and I had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his threat. I couldn’t let that happen. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Take me to Aleah’s. The sooner we get out of here, the faster I can get away from you.” Carter opened the door, and we stepped into the elevator, his body so achingly close. “Seriously? Can you give me some space?”
“Nope. I like where I’m standing,” he countered, his tone smug.
Much to my dismay, I liked it too. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
Carter chuckled, his laugh sending shivers through my body. “Me being this close never bothered you before.”
I didn’t want to hate Carter, but I did. Yes, I decided to move to New York, and I knew something serious wouldn’t work between us, not when he was about to start competing in the UFC. The distance would’ve torn us apart. I never realized how angry and bitter I’d become seeing him with all those different women. Over time, it was easier to despise him than hold onto my true feelings.
When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out into the lobby and glanced over at Carter, still bare-chested in his athletic shorts. “Don’t you have some clothes you can change into?”
“Yep,” he answered. “That’s why you’re coming with me to the hotel.”
I stopped right in the middle of the lobby floor. “I’m not doing that.”
Carter turned around, his face grave as he moved closer. “Believe it or not, Emma, but I’m honest to God, truly worried about you.” Quickly, he glimpsed around at the people in the lobby who’d all stopped to watch us. “Now that I’m here,” he said, his voice smooth and deep, “I’m not leaving you alone for something to happen to you.”
His protectiveness was what made me fall for him in the first place. He had always been the serious one out of our group, but he was gentle when he needed to be. Hearing his words only confused me more.
“Why do you care?” I breathed.
Carter brushed a thumb over my cheek. “Because I do.”
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author L. P. Dover is a southern belle living in North Carolina with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she began her literary journey she worked in periodontics, enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.
She loves to write, but she also loves to play golf, go on mountain hikes and white-water rafting, and has a passion for singing. Her two youngest fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime, usually Christmas carols.
Dover has written countless novels in several different genres, but her favorite to write is romantic suspense. However, she has found a new passion in romantic comedy, especially involving sexy golfers. Who knew the sport could be so dirty and fun to write about.
Title: All-Star Love Author: Stephanie J. Scott Genre: Young Adult Sports Romance
An enemies-to-more fake dating romance set in the world of competitive tennis Maisie Maxwell planned for a senior year of dazzling college scouts by playing her best tennis. Instead, her beloved tennis training academy is thrown into scandal when the academy founder and head coach, who happens to be her uncle, takes off to Tahiti with the school’s tuition money. Her classmates label her a traitor, but she commits to graduate from the school she loves.
Only her aim to lay low is thwarted by the school’s last-ditch hope to stay open, a new partnership with reality show The Academy.
Also not helping her stay-under-the-radar plan? A wayward forehand shot that nails transfer student Shane Wagner in the face on day one. Shane, obnoxiously gorgeous for starters, is the current number one nationally seeded player in junior boys’ tennis. Oops.
Everyone at school sees Shane as an outsider and fame-seeker. He’s just as much an outcast as Maisie. While reality show producers push for chaos, Shane and Maisie band together with their own idea: pretend to be together and control the narrative.
But the savvy head producer has her own agenda, and it’s not collegiate tennis scholarships. Shane and Maisie need to play hard to save the school before they’re outmatched.
Instinctively, I backed up, stepping directly onto Shane’s foot. His hands captured my arms, catching me before we fully collided. I slow turned, mouthing Go! just as the sound of dagger heels against tile floor click-clicked. Paige was coming.
Shane, still holding my arms, stared at me, our faces scant inches apart. He was frozen. Unmoving iceberg, dead in the water.
And then our lips met. I wasn’t entirely sure how, but our faces were definitely connected. I stared at him—or, more like stared into his pores because my face was on top of his. His eyes were closed.
Shane Wagner. Was. Kissing me.
A burst of heat traveled from our lips like a furnace on full blast. He tasted like blueberry muffin with a hint of salt. His lips were soft and welcoming. Actually, I could stay here awhile. I could stay like this, kissing Shane, and live in this furnace blast for—
“Oh,” said Paige behind me.
And just like that, Shane broke away. My sense of direction skewed, I fell back against the wall.
He blinked at me and cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He spoke past me toward Paige. “Maisie and I, we thought we were alone.”
What? I stared back at Shane. Oh, right. We’d been spying and had no reasonable excuse for listening in on Paige’s conversation. This was a cover-up.
Paige gave us a steely look, then continued on her way.
“Come on.” Shane’s hand joined mine. I found myself trailing after him, my vision unfocused. Trailing after with betraying, puffed lips. Lips that wanted another taste.
Stephanie J. Scott writes young adult and romance about characters who put their passions first. Her debut ALTERATIONS about a fashion-obsessed loner who reinvents herself was a Romance Writers of America RITA® award finalist. She enjoys dance fitness, everything cats, and has a slight obsession with Instagram. A Midwest girl at heart, she resides outside of Chicago with her tech-of-all-trades husband and fuzzy furbabies.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.
Wrecker is dead. I keep on repeating it to myself over and over again as I chase after Becca. I need her forgiveness for all the ways I hurt her not only to save myself and her, but also to save my son. Getting her back is easy. Keeping her is not. I am not here for a relationship but to give us both closure. Becca has other ideas.
Becca
Just when I think I’m getting my life back together, Dylan crashes into it and changes everything. He tells me that he doesn’t want me forever and that he will leave. He needs me to understand it. Yet, he refuses to go away. When life gives us both more than we can handle, it is my turn to send him on his way with no remorse.
***WARNING*** This book is Part Three of the Wrecked series, and it ends in a cliffhanger.
Andie Bale lives in Ann Arbor (Go Blue!), Michigan, with her husband, daughter and awesome four-legged baby. Her love of reading started at a young age when sneaking her mother’s romance books to read was the highlight of her day. Now, I am beyond grateful and excited to be able to bring the characters in her head to life.
