Paige wants two things: to land a full time librarian job and find the man of her dreams. On the cusp of thirty, she finds herself suddenly single and working part-time in a Michigan library. A handsome patron with a delicious accent appears at the reference desk, inadvertently sparking an idea that might help her land the promotion she so desperately needs. But that’s not the only thing he sparks.
James is in town from Glasgow, Scotland, on a summer artist residency. Luckily, the trip got him away from the pressure he feels to take over his uncle’s river tour business. He only wanted to clear his head and make his art in peace, but he wasn’t counting on finding an attractive librarian to fill his days.
With only eight weeks before James goes home to Scotland, Paige knows she should protect her heart. After all, she already wasted years with her commitmentphobe ex. But the more she gets to know James, the less she can stick to her plan to just be friends. Is she just wasting her time again, or can they bridge the ocean between them to find a happily ever after of their own?
“Here we are,” James said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “This is what I’ve been up to so far.”
Paige stepped into the room and deeply inhaled the scent of lumber. Her eyes were drawn to the workbench in the center of the room and the wood shavings littering it and the floor. A large chunk of wood stood on the table, but part of it had been carved away to reveal the rough shape of a ship emerging from the larger piece.
Paige walked reverently to the table. The air in the room was still and charged with promise, like in a museum or cathedral.
She leaned down to get eye level with the figure James was exhuming from the log. Even though it was still pretty raw, Paige was amazed by what she saw. While all the rest of the log still resembled a log, this little part had been rough-hewn into the very clear image of a ship. She could see the scoring of the chisel against the wood and the rougher strokes he’d taken to get to this point. If you’d put a chuck of wood and a chisel in front of her, she’d have no idea where to begin. The fact that he’d taken the raw material and already transformed it into the ship she saw before her, blew her mind.
“James,” she breathed. “This is incredible.”
“Oh, this is early days. Still a long way to go before it looks like anything much.”
“But look at this!” Paige gestured at the table. “How do you decide what to cut away and what stays? I can’t imagine doing anything like this.”
James joined her at the table and pointed at the emerging ship. “It’s no’ like that for me. When I pick up a piece of wood, I feel the story inside of it. It used to be alive. All living things have a story of some sort. Once I feel that story, it’s like the wood guides me to the image inside. I dinnae feel like I’m really the one making the decisions. I just uncover what was there all along.”
James’s face was so close to hers and his words, combined with the creative atmosphere, made Paige dizzy. All rational thoughts left her mind and she found the full focus of her attention on his lips. They were so close. So enticing. Her eyes began to close.
*****
Author Info:
Alana Oxford is a Michigan author of romcoms, sweet romance, and humorous women’s fiction. She wants her stories to bring sunshine and smiles to her readers. She enjoys improv comedy, moody music, everything book related, and has an ongoing love affair with the United Kingdom.
Jase Brooks had been a 26-year-old Marine, stationed in Afghanistan when his parents were killed in a head-on collision. His anguish was compounded when, at the reading of the will, he learned they’d made him sole guardian of his 11-year-old brother. Jase gladly walked away from a promising military career to step into their shoes, a tough job made tougher by the boy’s risky behavior: Petty theft to fund the addictions that led to the birth of his son, Luke… who also became Jase’s responsibility.
Through it all, best friend Samantha (Sam) Finnigan set aside her own heartaches to stand beside him–even when he made the dangerous decision to become a professional recovery agent. It isn’t until one of the criminals he’d rounded-up escapes prison–and kidnaps Sam and Luke as part of a twisted scheme to even the score–that Jase realizes Sam is more, so much more than a friend.
Now, he faces the greatest challenge of his life: Staying alive long enough to save them, so that he can finally admit just how much she has always meant to him…
Loree Lough, a USA Today bestselling author, has published over 140 novels. This is the second novel in The Shadow Series.
Elbows on knees, he held his head in his hands. What awful thing would life throw at him next!
By now, ten month old Luke’s cries bordered on screams.
“Jesse,” he growled, “are ya deaf? Luke is bawlin’ his lungs out!”
Most days, that was enough to get his brother up, stumbling and grumbling and chanting, “Shh, Lukey, shh,” on his way to the crib.
Not this morning.
Jase crossed the hall, opened the door to the room where Jesse had slept for nearly ten years. Luke greeted him with a big, four-toothed smile and said, “Duke up, Case?”
His nephew hadn’t yet mastered his L’s and J’s, and Jase had grown fond of the boy’s nickname for him, so fond that he wasn’t looking forward to the day when Luke could finally say ‘Luke’ and ‘Jase.’
“Dah-dee s’eep?” He pointed at his father’s bed.
Jesse had always been a restless sleeper, moreso since Connie left him to raise their boy, alone. The neatly-made bed proved he hadn’t slept here last night.
He thumb-dried fat tears from the baby’s cheeks. “Where is that daddy of yours?” he wondered aloud, and lifted him from the crib.
Damp blue eyes met his, held the gaze for a moment. On the heels of a shaky sigh, Luke snuggled against Jase’s chest and whimpered, “Dah-dee.”
“Someday he’ll realize what a gift you are, li’l man.” He hoped it was true, for both their sakes … before it’s too late.
According to the Ford Thunderbird wall clock, it was nearly six in the morning. The kid was probably wet. And hungry. Jase went back to the crib, released the side rail, and gently deposited him on the matching T-bird sheets. “Let’s get you changed, and then Uncle Jase will fix you some oatmeal, okay?”
The baby grabbed his favorite toy—the stuffed monkey Jase purchased in the hospital gift shop the night Luke was born—and began gnawing on the long, once-fuzzy tail. “Got another tooth comin’ in, huh, kiddo?”
Any worries that Connie’s drug use might have caused birth defects disappeared that first night, looking into those alert, innocent eyes. He’d vowed, right then and there, to do everything in his power to make sure the kid stayed innocent. He hadn’t done a very good job, protecting Jesse from the world’s evils, but maybe with Luke, he’d get a second chance to do things right.
It hadn’t been easy, straddling the line between big brother and disciplinarian, partly because he had no idea what he was doing, and partly because Jesse fought him every step of the way. But for a while there, while working together to fix their dad’s classic Thunderbird, their brotherly bond strengthened enough to distract Jesse from bad company, drugs, and booze. He’d been clean a year when the car was finally roadworthy, and he’d driven it to daily AA meetings. Ironic, Jase thought, that the following year, Jesse met Connie at one of those meetings. Her influence had been stronger than AA’s. Stronger than Jase’s. When she announced her pregnancy, Jase had hoped that fatherhood would end Jesse’s slow, downward spiral, but the empty bed across the room said otherwise.
Downstairs, he strapped Luke into his high chair. “That oughta keep you busy,” he said, sprinkling a handful of Cheerios across the tray, “while I heat up your oatmeal.” And when I put you down for a nap, I’m gonna hunt up that father of yours …
*****
Review:
Jase has taken a lot on his shoulders throughout his life – serving his country, raising his brother, and now helping to care for his nephew. He can carry it all but it definitely helps to have help. Sam has had feelings for Jase forever, so helping him when he needs it isn’t a hardship. She just wished that sometimes he could see her as more than friends. Trouble at home, followed by danger from Jase’s job, has him realizing how much Sam really means to him … if it isn’t too late.
I enjoyed the characters and the plot definitely kept my interest. The story isn’t very long so it moved pretty quickly and unfortunately I felt like some stuff was left out or glossed over. It didn’t stop me from enjoying the book but it did keep it from being as smooth as maybe it could have been. Overall, though, a fast, satisfying, and occasionally exciting read.
******
Author Info:
With more than 14M copies of her books in circulation, USA Today bestselling/award-winning author Loree Lough has 125 books in print (contracts for 6 more), 7 book-to-movie options, 68 short stories and 2,500+ published articles. She and her real-life hero split their time between a home in Baltimore’s suburbs and a cabin in the Alleghenies. She loves interacting with readers and answers every letter personally.
On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it that I want to see my fake boyfriend naked?
Marnie
What’s worse than being left at the altar? Becoming a meme because one of your nearest and dearest took a video of you running—and falling—down the aisle and made it internet famous.
Yup, I’m that Marnie Jones. My sister is for-real famous, which only makes people more interested in my predicament. Is it any wonder I’m feeling down?
My best friends will try anything to cheer me up…including setting me up with the Fairy Godmother Agency, a maybe-crazy husband and wife private investigator-slash-life coach team who promise to find the person who sold me out. Better yet, they lend me a fake boyfriend to make my ex jealous and appease my sister.
Griffin is gorgeous, attentive, and a very convincing actor. He’s perfect for the job.
Too perfect.
Griffin
After a lifetime of practice, I’m good at pretending. But the more time I spend with Marnie Jones, the less I have to feign my interest in her.
She may be down, but she’s not out. She’s beautiful, funny, and just the right amount of weird. All she needs is someone to remind her of that.
If I weren’t such a screw up, I’d have half a mind to do it myself.
“Aw, you two are staring into each other’s eyes like you’re teenagers,” Sinclair says, slicing her way into the moment. I shift my attention to my sister’s face on the iPad. Her words are sweet, but she’s obviously not appeased. To be fair, she’s spoken to me nearly every day for the last month, and I’ve been feeling down for a while. Now, I’m suddenly in a relationship with a man who looks like this, wearing a nighty that could have been stolen from the set of her Netflix show. She probably has whiplash.
Then again, maybe she thinks I could never find a man like this without bribing him. It stings, even more so because she’s right.
“What can I say? Mitchell makes me feel like I’m a teenager again,” I tell her, my tone tight.
“The same age you were when you pretended you had a boyfriend?” She grins at
“Mitchell,” that thousand-dollar grin that’s on dozens of posters. “See? I have my reasons for suspicion.”
Old hurt wells up inside of me. My sister was a beautiful TV star, and I was an awkward teenager who couldn’t attract a second glance from a guy unless he was teasing me. So, yes, when she asked if I had a date to prom, I claimed I did. Rupert Wrightman.
Crap. I’m really bad at coming up with off-the-cuff names. Actually, considering I told her this handsome stranger next to me is called “Mitchell Mountainbottom,” I’ve probably gotten worse at it.
I look down, but suddenly strong fingers are touching my jaw, tipping my face up. Then I’m looking into Mitchell’s eyes, which look hot, like caramel starting to boil in a pan, and he shocks me by leaning in for a soft kiss. It would have lasted for only a few second, just long enough for me to register his soft but firm lips, the brush of his short beard, and his spicy scent, but my mouth parts in surprise, and then I find myself pressing into him, electricity arcing between us and gluing us together. He’s the one who pulls back, a slight smile on his face as he lifts his hand to my jaw and softly traces it.
“Seems to me there must’ve been plenty of guys half in love with her,” he says, still looking at me, and my pulse is galloping in my chest, so alarmingly fast I think I might actually die. “If she did pretend to have a boyfriend, it was probably because she wanted to let them down easy.” He lifts a hand to my jaw again, tracing it. “She’s thoughtful like that.”
I’m at a loss for words. Actually, I can’t do anything but gape at him. Should I be pissed at him? Probably. Maybe I would be if I could form a single coherent thought.
It’s for the best that Sinclair takes over. “You guys are too cute.” There’s a bit of an edge to her voice. She’s still suspicious, although I’ll bet she’s not altogether sure why she’s suspicious.
“Yes, we are,” Mitchell says with a smirk. He’s still looking at me, though.
I’m the one who finally breaks the stare. Glancing back at my sister, I clear my throat. “We have to go. Talk to you later?”
“Where do you have to go?” she asks. “You haven’t even finished your breakfast.”
Mitchell gives her a suggestive grin. “Isn’t it obvious? It was nice meeting you, Scarlett.”
Marnie may have taken a bit of a hit when her fiance walked out on their wedding, but she’s not out. She just needs someone to show her the strong, confident person hiding underneath her baggy Star Wars shirt. Griffin wants to be that person, he just needs some help to fight his own demons and realize that he’s worthy of love.
I’ve only read one other book by Casella and I have to say I’m missing out. Marnie and Griffin’s story was fun, sexy, and easy to read. I loved all the quirky characters and the slightly off the wall, entertaining storyline. Lying as a central part of the story is tricky for me but it works here. And while with a fake boyfriend story you could expect a lot of “is it real” drama, Casella does a good job of avoiding that trap. Instead we get a low angst, light-hearted, slow burn romance with a good dash of humor and a bit of heat. I’m pretty sure I need to add this author to my must read list!
*****
Author Info:
ANGELA CASELLA loves writing romcoms, particularly with the lovely Denise Grover Swank. They write together as Angela Denise. Angela also writes the Fairy Godmother Agency series. She lives in Asheville, NC with her husband, daughter, and two geriatric dogs. Her hobbies include herding her daughter toward less dangerous activities, stress baking, and marathon watching TV shows.
Toby Jenner may be tall, handsome, and own the world’s greatest collection of cardigans, but his track record with women is woeful. Even though he’s the tech genius behind the most successful matchmaking app of all time, it seems as though Doctor Love is able to predict everyone’s perfect partner except his own.
All that changes when a beautiful, intelligent, quirky-as-hell woman crashes into his life. Plagued by her own relationship woes, Joanna’s done with dating guys who aren’t right and pins her hopes on the Happy Ever After app turning her love life around.
Within hours of meeting her, Toby realizes he’s finally found the soul-deep connection he’s always craved. Even better, she seems to feel the same way.
There’s just one problem–according to his own state-of-the-art compatibility algorithm, they don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of working out.
Being a man of logic, Toby knows he should forget about her and move on. He knows he shouldn’t move into her plush Manhattan apartment so he can monitor the glitchy A. I. that runs/ruins her life. He knows he should be fine with her dating men whose compatibility scores aren’t in the single digits. And he should absolutely ignore how just being near her sets his entire world on fire.
Yes, Toby is very aware that falling for his perfectly imperfect match will lead to devastating heartbreak. But he also knows that if there’s even a one-percent chance of them making it, he’ll move heaven and earth to beat the odds.
A sizzling new standalone from the internationally bestselling author of Bad Romeo.
Download your copy today, exclusively on Amazon or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
I down more of my drink. For an eighteen-dollarish glass of whiskey, it’s not bad.
When I glance at Eden, I see her eyes have glazed over. I follow her gaze across the room to where her boyfriend is talking to one of the test couples. As if he feels her staring, Max turns, and the expression he gets makes me shake my head. Pretty sure I’ve never looked at a girl like that, but I’d like to.
I wonder what it must be like to be that much in love. The way they’re looking at each other … the chemistry is so thick, you can almost see it shimmering in the air. It’s like there’s no one else in this entire place but them. Whenever I witness the passion between Eden and Max, I wonder if that sort of depth of emotion is reserved for a lucky few. Will everyone get to feel something that powerful during their lifetimes? Or is it some kind of cosmic lottery that most of us never get to win?
“Out of interest,” I say. “Did you and Max fill out your compatibility questionnaires?”
Eden drags herself away from her man and leans one elbow on the bar. “Of course. Max wanted to make sure your algorithm was working.”
“So, what did you score?”
She gives me a smug smile. “Ninety-two.”
I almost choke on my own saliva. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She looks confused. “No. Why?”
I stand up straighter. “Just haven’t seen a score that high before. New record.” Up until now, the highest was eighty-six, and that was one of my research couples who’d been together for thirty years. “Guess it must feel good to know you chose right.”
She smiles wistfully into her wine. “I don’t need a score to tell me Max is my soul mate. When you know, you know.”
I roll my neck again to try and relieve the tension in my shoulders. “So I hear.”
She touches my forearm, and I can feel the sympathy she’s exuding. “Toby, you’re a six-foot-five, totally ripped, scruffily handsome genius. I have zero doubt you’ll meet your perfect match someday soon.”
I shrug her off. “Doesn’t bother me.” I’m such a liar. I want a soul mate just as much as the next person. I just doubt it’s something I’m ever going to have.
Eden frowns for a second, before turning to me with an excited expression. “Well smack my ass and call me stupid, why didn’t I think of it before? I have a single friend who’d be great for you.”
Oh, Jesus, here we go. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Just hear me out. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, quirky as hell––”
“Eden, I’m the professional matchmaker here. How about we leave potential dates to the expert instead of just hooking me up with some random woman you know.”
“She’s not random. She’s Asha’s best friend.”
I cringe. “Are you talking about that Joanna chick you mentioned ages ago? The one who first told you about Mister Romance? Didn’t you say she was a compulsive liar?”
“That was before I got to know her. She’s actually remarkably cool.”
“I’m sure. Still not interested. Plus, I’ve already made it clear that until this app is out in the big, bad world, I have zero time to scratch myself, let alone date.”
She nods like she understands, but knowing Eden, this subject is not being dropped any time soon. “Okay. Sure. I hear you. But just know that one day, you’ll meet someone amazing and forget all about how busy you are. When your soul mate shows up, you can try to deny them, or ignore them, but it won’t work. They’ll bully their way into your life whether you want them to or not. Take it from someone who knows.”
I down the dregs of my whiskey and put the empty glass on the bar. I love Eden like a sister, and I’m grateful that she looks out for me, but I’m really not in the mood for this conversation tonight. She’s working on the assumption that there’s someone out there for everyone, and the more I study the numbers, the more certain I am that most of us are destined to stagger from one bad relationship to the next, until we die, miserable and alone.
“Well, thanks for the drink,” I say as I pat her shoulder. “But I really need to get back to work.” Without waiting for permission, I sit back down in front of my laptop and open it.
She rubs my back. “Okay, then, Doctor Love. Go matchmake your little heart out. I have to head home to finish up a story, but I’ll see you at work on Monday, okay?”
“Yep, see you then.”
As she heads across the room to kiss Max goodbye, I watch them for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and diving back into the dizzying labyrinth of code on the screen in front of me.
Author, actor, and professional snuggler, Leisa is the creator of the critically acclaimed Starcrossed series, published through Macmillan New York: BAD ROMEO, BROKEN JULIET, and WICKED HEART. The finale in the Starcrossed series was the holiday-themed anthology, BAD ROMEO CHRISTMAS.
Her latest endeavor is the Masters of Love series, which has everyone swooning over some spectacular book boyfriends who will do anything for their soul mates. The first two books, (MISTER ROMANCE and PROFESSOR FEELGOOD,) are now available, and DOCTOR LOVE is scheduled to be published in early 2019.
Leisa’s books have gained hordes of passionate fans all over the world, and can be found on e-readers and bookshelves in fifteen foreign countries, and she’s also been featured on various international bestseller lists.
Leisa lives in Australia with her husband, two enormous teenage sons, four cats, and a kangaroo named Howard. (Howard may or may not be her imaginary marsupial friend. Everyone should have one.)
When Leisa isn’t writing books, she’s probably eating cheese. Or guacamole. Or cheese covered in guacamole.
London 1776: Lord Worth is busying himself restoring his family fortunes and burying any feelings he still harbours for the woman who rejected his proposal.
The fact that the lady in question—Lady Rebecca Fairing—happens to be his sister’s best friend, his niece’s godmother, and present at every Societal gathering of consequence is… unfortunate.
Meanwhile Rebecca fears she made the wrong decision in rejecting James Worth, but when he assures her he won’t be renewing his proposal, she is forced to accept her choice. It doesn’t take long for the eligible Lord Worth to attract other suitors, among them Lady Sophia, daughter to Society’s most notorious gossip, Lady Goring.
Rebecca knows she must step aside and allow James to find happiness, but when she senses all is not as it seems in the Goring family, she can’t help but intervene.
As James and Rebecca work together to unearth Societal secrets, deal with scheming matriarchs, and face villainous highwaymen, they find themselves more in each other’s company than ever before.
Will they continue to bury their feelings for one another, or will they finally realise what it means to love?
Rebecca reminds me a lot of how I remember Jane Austen’s Emma – a big heart but a little flighty and easily swayed by a pretty face & even prettier words. She learns a few things about what’s truly important but of course manages to get herself into a scrape or two along the way. I’m not sure if I’d feel differently about her if I’d read the previous books though.
James is solid, dependable, and a little taciturn. He may not be as flashy as the rest of the Ton but he’s a good man and a good catch. Unfortunately the one woman he wants turned him down and he’s not really interested in getting married to just anyone. Regardless of what their mom’s think. So finding himself constantly thrown into Rebecca’s company isn’t helping. But he can’t help himself from getting involved when it’s obvious that one of their friends needs help, even when it means more time with Rebecca.
Lord of Worth is a slow burn, second chance love story with a good dose of societal shenanigans, misunderstandings, heartbreak, and trouble on the way to a satisfying happy ending.
(Can be read as a stand alone but probably enjoyed more if read in order.)
*****
Author Info:
Philippa Jane Keyworth, also known as P. J. Keyworth, writes historical romance and fantasy novels you’ll want to escape into.
She loves strong heroines, challenging heroes and backdrops that read like you’re watching a movie. She creates complex, believable characters you want to get to know and worlds that are as dramatic as they are beautiful.
Keyworth’s historical romance novels include Regency and Georgian romances that trace the steps of indomitable heroes and heroines through historic British streets. From London’s glittering ballrooms to its dark gaming hells, characters experience the hopes and joys of love while avoiding a coil or too! Travel with them through London, Bath, Cornwall and beyond and you’ll find yourself falling in love.
Keyworth’s fantasy series The She Trilogy unveils a world of nomadic warrior tribes and peaceful forest-dwelling folk. Explore the hills, deserts and cities of Emrilion and the history that is woven through them. With so many different races in the same kingdom it’s become a melting pot of drama and intrigue where the ultimate struggle between good and evil will bring it all to the brink of destruction.
Win a signed copy of Lord of Worth (Open to UK Only)
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The last thing any professional hockey player wants is to be the old man in the game. The guy who doesn’t know when it’s time to retire. Still, I can’t bear the thought of leaving the game.
This past year I’ve reflected on all my regrets, and I told myself that once I retire it’ll be the time to settle down and start a family. But this is where it gets tricky.
I think I’ve found her—my Mrs. Although she’ll deny our connection to anyone who asks. We’ve been sleeping together casually and since I’m still playing hockey, I’ve let her get what she wants—me—whenever she wants.
After being told my career as a player is over, the owner of Florida Fury grants me a shot to stay in the game. A coaching position I didn’t know I wanted until it was offered. The catch? He’s also passing the family business down to his daughter.
Who’s his daughter?
The woman who’s been in and out of my bed for the past year. Which means the woman I intend to make my wife is now my new boss.
I’m sure returning readers already have an investment in Jana & Kane’s HEA but as a new reader I enjoyed it as well – and didn’t feel too left out not having that background. Both characters are strong and pretty sure they know what they want out of life. Which has them bumping heads just as much as … more enjoyable activities. Forced to work together as owner & coach, their relationship changes but it’s hard to turn off the attraction so things quickly get complicated.
While I really liked Jana & Kane (individually and as a couple) and enjoyed their story, there were a couple of suspension of disbelief moments for me. The fact that Kane went from player to head coach in an instant is a little much, definitely something he normally would have worked up to. Jana as new owner is a little easier to understand as she’s been heading there her entire life. Also they both had reasons for not wanting certain things relationshipwise but that changes towards the end and the way it is handled felt a bit rushed to me. Overall though, I liked the book and the way Piper Rayne delivers it, so I’ll definitely be looking for more stories to add to my TBR pile.
*****
Author Info:
Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling Author duo who write “heartwarming humor with a side of sizzle” about families, whether that be blood or found. They both have e-readers full of one-clickable books, they’re married to husbands who drive them to drink, and they’re both chauffeurs to their kids. Most of all, they love hot heroes and quirky heroines who make them laugh, and they hope you do, too!
Welcome to Four Corners Ranch, where the west is still wild…and when a cowboy needs a wife, he decides to find her the old-fashioned way.
Cowboy Sawyer Garrett has no intention of settling down. But when he becomes a single dad to tiny baby June, stepping up to the responsibility is non-negotiable. And so is finding a wife to be a mother to his infant daughter. So he decides to do it how the pioneers did: He puts out an ad for a mail order bride.
Evelyn Moore can’t believe she’s agreed to uproot her city life to marry a stranger in Oregon. But having escaped one near-disastrous marriage, she’s desperate for change. Her love for baby June is instant. Her feelings for Sawyer are more complicated. Her gruff cowboy husband ignites thrilling desire in her, but Sawyer is determined to keep their marriage all about the baby. But what happens if Evelyn wants it all?
“There’s no way around it. I’m going to need a wife.”
Sawyer Garrett looked across the table at his brother, Wolf, and his sister, Elsie, and then down at the tiny pink bundle he was holding in his arms.
It wasn’t like this was an entirely new idea.
It was just that he had been thinking the entire time that Missy might change her mind, which would put him in a different position. She hadn’t, though. She had stuck to her guns. When she found out she was pregnant, she told him that she wanted nothing to do with having a baby. She wanted to go through with the pregnancy, but not with being a mother. Not even when he proposed marriage. Oh, they hadn’t been in a relationship or anything like that. She was just a woman that he saw from time to time.
In fact, Sawyer Garrett could honestly say that he had a very low opinion of relationships and family.
Present company excluded, of course.
But when Missy had said she was pregnant, he’d known there was only one thing to do. His dad had been a flawed man. Deeply so. He’d acted like the kids were an afterthought and all he’d really done was let them live under his roof.
Sawyer wanted more for his child. Better. He’d determined he would be there, not just providing housing and food, but actually being there.
If he could spare his child the feeling of being unwanted, he would.
And that was where this idea had been turning over in his head for a while.
The fact of the matter was, Garrett’s Watch had a lousy track record when it came to marriage.
The thirteen-thousand-acre spread had been settled back in the late 1800s, with equal adjoining spreads settled by the Kings, the McClouds and the Sullivans, all of whom had now worked what was known in combination as Four Corners Ranch in the generations since.
And where the Garrett clan was concerned… There was nothing but a long history of abandonment and divorces. The one exception being Sawyer’s grandparents. Oh, not his grandfather’s first marriage. His biological grandmother had run off just like every other woman in their family tree. As if the ground itself was cursed.
But then the old man had happened upon an idea. He thought to write a letter to one of the newspapers back east asking for a woman who wanted to come out to Oregon and be a mother to his children. They’d had the only successful marriage in his direct line. And it was because it was based on mutual respect and understanding and not the emotional bullshit that had been a hallmark of his own childhood. He barely remembered his own mother. He remembered Wolf’s and Elsie’s, though. Two different women. Only around for a small number of years.
Just long enough to leave some scars.
Hell, he didn’t know how he wound up in this position. He was a man who liked to play hard. He worked hard. It seemed fair enough. But he was careful. He always used a condom. And Missy had been no exception. He’d just been subject to that small percentage of failure. Failure.
He hated that. He hated that feeling. He hated that word. If there was one thing he could fault his father for it was the fact that the man hadn’t taken charge. The fact that he just sat there in the shit when everything went to hell. That wasn’t who Sawyer was. But Sawyer had to be responsible for his siblings far sooner than he should’ve had to be, thanks in part due to his father’s passivity. If there was one thing Sawyer had learned, it was that you had to be responsible when responsibility was needed.
He wasn’t a stranger to failing people in his life, but unlike his father, he’d learned. He’d never let anyone who needed him down, not again.
“Marriage,” Wolf said. “Really.”
“Unless you and Elsie want a full-time job as a nanny.”
Elsie snorted, leaned back in her chair and put her boots up on the table—which she didn’t normally do, but she was just trying to be as feral as possible in the moment. “Not likely,” she said.
“Right. Well. So, do you think there’s a better idea?”
“Reconsider being a single father?” Wolf said.
“I am,” Sawyer said. “I’m aiming to find a wife.”
Wolf shook his head. “I mean, reconsider having a baby at all.”
A fierce protectiveness gripped Sawyer’s chest. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?”
“Wasn’t too late for Missy to walk away yesterday,” Wolf said.
“Too late for me,” Sawyer said.
It had been. From the moment he’d first heard her cry. The weight of… Of everything that he felt on his shoulders when this tiny little thing was placed into his arms. It was difficult to describe. Impossible. He wasn’t good with feelings when they were simple. But this was complicated. A burden, but one he grabbed hold of willingly. One he felt simultaneously uniquely suited for and completely unequal to. He didn’t know the first thing about babies. Yeah, he had done quite a bit to take care of Elsie and Wolf, and… He could see where he’d fallen short. Elsie was just a hair shy of a bobcat in human form, and Wolf suited his name, and, well…big, a little bit dangerous, loyal to his pack, but that was about it.
“It’s not too late,” Elsie said. “In the strictest sense. You haven’t even given her name.”
No. It was true. He hadn’t settled on anything yet. And he knew there was paperwork that he had to do.
“You want me to give her back?” He shook his head. “It’s not like I have a receipt, Els.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Elsie said. “It’s just… It’s a hard life here.”
“And I aim to make it a little less hard.”
“So, you’re going to… What? Put an ad in the paper?”
“Granddad did,” he said.
And it had changed their lives for the better. The history of Garrett’s Watch might be rich with failed love stories, but it was a marriage of convenience that had brought real love to the ranch.
Their grandmother—their real grandmother (blood didn’t matter here, staying mattered)—had loved them all with a ferocity their own mothers hadn’t managed, let alone their father.
She had taught Sawyer to tie his shoes and ride a bike. She’d hugged him when he’d fallen and scraped his knees.
She taught him tenderness. And he was damned grateful for it now, because he had this tiny life in his care, and if it weren’t for her, he would have never, ever known where to begin.
And thanks to his grandfather, he knew what else he might need.
However crazy his siblings thought it was.
“It’s not 1950,” Wolf pointed out.
Though, sometimes, on Four Corners you could be forgiven for not realizing that. For not realizing it wasn’t 1880, even.
Time passed slowly, and by and large the landscape didn’t change. Sure, the farm implements got a little bit shinier.
On a particularly good year, the savings account got a little bit fatter.
But the land itself remained. The large imposing mountains that surrounded the property that backed Garrett’s Watch. The river that ran through the property, cutting across the field and the base of the mountain. The pine trees, green all through the year, growing taller with the passage of time.
They were lucky to have done well enough in the last few years that the large main house was completely updated, though it was ridiculously huge for Sawyer by himself. Wolf and Elsie had gone to their own cabins on the property, which were also sturdy and well kept.
In truth, this whole thing with the baby had been a wake-up call. Because whether or not he could look out the window and see it, time was passing. And when Missy had asked him what he wanted to do about the baby, the answer had seemed simple. It had seemed simple because… He had no excuse. He had plenty of money, and had the sort of life that meant he could include a kid in most anything. His dad had done him a favor by showing him what not to do. They were largely left to their own devices, but it was a great place to be left to your devices. And he’d had to ask himself… What was he hanging on to? A life of going out drinking whenever he wanted, sleeping with whoever he wanted.
He was at the age where it wasn’t all that attractive, not anymore.
Thirty-four and with no sign of change on the horizon. In the end, he decided to aim for more. To take the change that was coming whether he was ready or not.
Turns out not very ready. But again, that was where his plan came in.
“I’m aware that is not 1950,” he shot back at his brother. “I can…sign up for a… A website.”
As if he knew how the hell to do that. They had a computer. Hell, he had a smartphone. They had a business to manage and it made sense. But the fact remained, he didn’t have a lot of use for either.
Elsie cackled, slinging her boots off the table and flipping her dark braid over her shoulder. “A website? I don’t think people swipe on their phones looking for marriage. I think they look for… Well, stuff you seem to be able to find without the help of the internet.”
His sister wasn’t wrong. He found sex just fine without the help of his phone. That was what Smokey’s Tavern was for.
“The way I see it,” Sawyer said, speaking as if Elsie hadn’t spoken, which as far as he was concerned was the way it should be with younger siblings, “marriage can work, relationships can work, as long as you have the same set of goals as the other person. It’s all these modern ideals… That’s what doesn’t work.”
“Which modern ideals?” Elsie asked. “The kind that saw every woman in our bloodline leaving every man in our bloodline all the way back to when people were riding around in horse-drawn carriages?”
“Yes,” he said. “That is what I mean. People thinking that they needed to marry for something other than…common need.”
He was pretty sure his grandparents had loved each other in the end. But it reminded him of something other than romance. It reminded him of his connection to the land. You cared for that which cared for you. It sustained you. You worked it, and the dirt got under your nails. The air was in your lungs. It became part of you. Of all that you were.
Maisey Yates is a New York Times bestselling author of over one hundred romance novels. Whether she’s writing strong, hard working cowboys, dissolute princes or multigenerational family stories, she loves getting lost in fictional worlds. An avid knitter with a dangerous yarn addiction and an aversion to housework, Maisey lives with her husband and three kids in rural Oregon. Check out her website, maiseyyates.com or find her on Facebook.
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.
*****
Review:
Either Molly works some magic on him or Holden isn’t as much of a grump as he pretends to be, because he’s pretty awesome, in a gruff and foul-mouthed kinda way. He wooed me just as much as he wooed her, every step of the way. And, though I’m surprised that Molly hadn’t found a way to address her problems up to this point, I’m happy that it brought these two together.
He’s a Keeper is definitely that – the characters are fun, their interactions are adorable (and hot), and it’s an easy read to a feel good ending. And while you can see the drama coming a mile away, I appreciate the way that Travis has them evaluate their feelings and come back together. It’s a satisfying HEA to a satisfying story and I’m definitely looking forward to what is coming up next with this series.
*****
Author Info:
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.
In this delightful new Regency romance from New York Times bestseller Candace Camp, a feisty commoner and a ruthless aristocrat spar in all the right ways.
Noelle Rutherford would do anything for her young son, Gil. A fiercely independent woman recently widowed, Noelle is determined to raise Gil alone. After all, her late husband Adam Rutherford married her for love, which infuriated his aristocratic family. Gil is Noelle’s whole world, and she will not have him wrested from her by haughty nobles.
But she may not have a choice unless she’s prepared to run.
One awful night, Noelle is confronted by Carlisle Thorne, a handsome yet severe, irascible man sent by the Rutherfords. Noelle is horrified when Carlisle offers her money in exchange for taking Gil to be raised at the Rutherford estate, Stonecliffe. Knowing that Carlisle will use any means necessary to take her son from her, Noelle flees, Gil at her side.
Thus begins an epic rivalry that spans five years—a battle of wits between two unforgettable characters bound together by fate and fortune. However, when danger threatens, these enemies must come together to protect what matters most… even if it means losing their hearts.
Noelle gazed down at the sleeping baby. How were they to live?
At first she had been too numb to think, moving through the past few days in a dazed state, unable to believe that this was real. Adam was too young, too full of life to die. Why had he been so reckless? And why, dear God, why had she argued with him that night?
She shivered. Their home was still and silent, empty of his laughter, his words, even his scowls or curses when his work went badly. Noelle wished she could return to her earlier befogged state. But this morning, as she had stood at his graveside, the Paris sky fittingly gray and drizzling, her heart had accepted what her mind refused to the past three days. Never again would she see her husband’s smile or feel the touch of his lips on hers.
But she could not allow herself to sink into a morass of grief. She had a baby to care for. As she watched her child sleep, a fierce surge of protectiveness rose in her. She must face the harsh truths, the bitter reality, for Gil’s sake. There was no one to solve her problems—or even to give her advice.
Adam’s artist friends? His models? They were all as penniless as she was. Her father was far away in Oxford, and in any case, he was an impoverished academic who could barely manage to support himself. Even less likely to help was Adam’s aristocratic father, who had been so opposed to Adam marrying “beneath him” that he cut his son out of his life.
Noelle glanced around their flat, forcing herself to take stock of her situation. There was no money here. Noelle had used the pittance she had stashed away just to pay for Adam’s burial and the small headstone—and oh, how it hurt that a man of his artistry should have so little to mark his passing! The butcher refused to sell anything to her until she paid their bill. The wine merchant was already dunning them—that was what set off her argument with Adam and sent him storming out into the night. The flat itself was paid only through the end of the next week, and their landlord was a hard man who would not care that he was tossing a widow and a fatherless baby into the street.
It was enough to make her dissolve into sobs, but Noelle had cried so much the last few days that she was utterly drained of tears, and in any case, it would do no good. Crying never solved anything. She must think of what to do. Madame Bissonet would take her back at the millinery where Noelle had worked before Gil was born. Noelle had been a good clerk as well as an excellent model for Madame’s hats, not to mention the added benefit of being able to converse with English customers.
But how was she to work there—or anywhere—with a small baby? She could hardly carry an infant about the showroom with her or take time from making bonnets to feed and tend to him. Even if she could find a way to do so, the money she could earn would be very little. They had always lived on the stipend Adam’s family sent him despite his estrangement from them. Noelle’s salary had merely helped make ends meet when Adam’s extravagant spending sent them into dun territory. It wouldn’t be enough to live on. And she had no hope that the Rutherfords would continue to provide Adam’s much-disliked widow any aid after his death.
She could sell Adam’s work. She looked across the room to where his easel stood by the window. Finished paintings crowded all around it—the fruit of his genius, the rich glimpses into his soul—some dark and stormy, others visions of stunning beauty, and all of them compelling. It made her heart ache to think of letting them go, but she would have to try to sell at least some of them. That would bring in enough to live for a while, but he had been able to sell too few of them in the past for her to think she would be able to reap any great sums. They were worth far more to her than they ever would be to someone else.
Noelle turned away, going to the alcove that served as their bedroom, and began to take off the black dress she had worn to Adam’s funeral. Adam would have hated that; he had always said she was suited only for color. She had but one black dress. It was old and uncomfortably tight across her breasts, so full now since the baby was born. Tossing it onto the bed, she pulled on the bright silk wrapper Adam had bought her. It was far too extravagant, as were so many of the things that he bought, but it was soft and comfortably loose, and it made her feel closer to Adam.
Taking an ornate box from the dresser, she sat down on the bed and opened it. The jewelry Adam had bought her was the most valuable asset she possessed. She began to pull out the pieces, laying them out on the bed beside her. The diamond earrings Adam had given her when Gil was born. Gold bangles. An enameled brooch. A jeweled hairpin that looked like a dragonfly. Pendants, earrings. That foolish narrow ruby-and-diamond tiara that Noelle would never attend anything formal enough to wear.
Indeed, she would never wear most of them. She had protested time and again that Adam spent too much on jewels and clothes for her; it would have been far more useful for him to pay the rent. But Adam was the son of an earl, and he’d never completely adjusted to his new financial circumstances. He would complain about his lack of funds and call the monthly payment he received from England “blood money.” He would make periodic vows to follow a budget. But then he would see something he wanted, and he would buy it on the spot, without regard to the price.
That first bracelet he’d given her, she had promptly handed back to him, saying heatedly that she was not the sort of girl to accept such a present from a man. She smiled to herself, stroking her finger over the delicate chain of sapphire flowers. Adam had kept it and presented it to her again after they married, smiling in that irresistible, mischievous way of his and saying he believed she could accept it now.
Noelle swallowed the lump in her throat and fastened the bracelet on her wrist, holding her arm out to admire it. She pulled out the matching necklace that he’d given her on their first anniversary. Going to the mirror, she fastened it around her neck. She smoothed her finger over the delicate stones, remembering the way he looked as he gave it to her. Tears welled in her eyes.
A thunderous knock sounded at the door, breaking into her reverie. Whirling, she ran for the door in the futile hope she might keep the visitor from waking the baby. But, naturally, Gil began to howl, his tiny face screwing up and turning red. In exasperation, she flung the door open.
A tall, lean man stood outside her door, his strong-boned face set in a stony expression and his eyes the cold gray of a winter storm. His brown hair had no silver to it, but his fierceness gave him an authority that his age, and even his obvious peerage, didn’t.
Noelle took an instinctive step back. The man’s eyes flicked down her and beyond to the cradle. “I believe your child is crying.”
“Not until you started banging on the door.” Her temper flashed at his tone. Turning, Noelle scooped Gil up and held him against her chest, murmuring soothing noises. When she pivoted back to the door, she saw that the man had walked into the room uninvited and closed the door behind him. He stood there silently, his coolly assessing gaze roaming over the small living quarters.
His eyes fell on the unmade bed, the contents of the jewelry box spread across it, and his lips lifted in a sneer. “Sorry to disturb you. I can see that you are deep in…um, sorrow.”
His tone gave a sarcastic twist to the words that made them sting and brought a flush of embarrassment to Noelle’s cheeks even as they angered her. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Suspicion of the man’s identity was already tickling at the back of her mind. English, aristocratic, contemptuous…and surely she had seen a charcoal drawing of this man among Adam’s sketches.
“I am Carlisle Thorne. I am a friend of the Rutherford family.”
“I see.” Adam had spoken of him several times. Though not related to Adam by blood, Thorne had been the earl’s ward. He had lived with Adam’s family for some time and had been something of an older brother to him. When Adam first mentioned him, it had been with affection, but after their marriage, his references to the man had turned bitter. Adam had believed Thorne would intercede with his father, but instead he had, like the earl, opposed the marriage.
Noelle remembered well the letter Adam had received from Carlisle Thorne. He’d torn it up and flung it on the ground, but Noelle had pieced it together and read it: It is entirely understandable, even expected, that you should dally with the lasses while you are at university, but it is out of the question for a man of your heritage to marry one of these common girls.
It had only exposed the man’s arrogance and narrow mind, but the words had made Noelle feel ashamed. Even now, she could remember the pang of hurt, assuaged only partially by Adam’s fierce denouncement of Thorne.
It was not surprising that this icy man was the author of that missive. She felt sure his opinion of her had not changed. Certainly, she had no liking for him. But still, she could not help but feel a quiver of hope. Thorne had been something of an emissary between Adam’s father and his renounced son in the past; the earl had sent Adam his monthly stipend through Thorne. If the earl had sent Thorne himself to pay a visit, surely that meant he would help his son’s widow and child, no matter what he thought of Noelle herself.
Thorne’s gaze went to the bundle in Noelle’s arms. Gil had once again fallen asleep against her chest. Thorne shifted awkwardly, tilting his head to look at the baby’s face. “Is this…”
“Yes. This is Gil. Adam’s son.”
He gave a short nod and turned away. For a moment Noelle thought he was about to simply walk out the door, but then he swiveled back to face her. “I am here to return Adam to his family.”
“Return him to his family! They would not accept Adam when he was alive, but now that my husband has died, they want his body?” Noelle flared. “It’s a trifle late, isn’t it?”
His eyes darkened and for the first time it was fire, not ice, that flared from them. “I am well aware that I did not arrive in time to save Adam from the disastrous consequences of his marriage to you.”
Noelle drew in a sharp breath, shocked. “Are you implying that I harmed Adam?”
“I am implying nothing. I am saying plainly what we both know—if he had not run off with you, Adam would be alive today.” His words pierced her, and Noelle could say nothing as he continued, “I will regret to my dying day that I did not keep him out of your clutches. But I am not too late to save his son.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, and Noelle turned away to hide them from him. She laid Gil back in his little bed, buying herself time to force down the pain and anger that threatened to swamp her. She hated this arrogant man. But she had to think of her son. She must take care of him, and Carlisle Thorne was the only person who might do that. If he was offering to provide support for Adam’s baby, then she must accept it, no matter how humiliating, no matter how much it galled her.
Not looking at him, carefully keeping her voice drained of emotion, she said, “And how do you propose to do that?”
“Ah. Yes. Now we are at the heart of the matter, aren’t we? No need for any pretense; you are ready to bargain. What is your price?”
“My price?” She turned to face him, confused. Was she supposed to figure out how much it would cost to raise her child? And what an odd way to put it. “I—I’m not sure—”
“You must have a number in mind. What will you take to give me Adam’s son?”
Noelle stared at him, stunned. “You want to buy my baby?”
“If you want to call it that.” He frowned. “Did you expect me to hand over a pile of banknotes and leave him here with you? To let the earl’s grandson be raised in…” he gestured vaguely around the apartment “…in this? In the sort of life you will lead? No. I can assure you I will not. The earl is his legal guardian, as you must know. The child will be earl one day, and he shall be raised at Stonecliffe, just as Adam was, in the care of his grandmother and grandfather. You will take the money and be on your way. A thousand pounds.”
“No,” Noelle said weakly. She was too shocked to put her thoughts into order. He could not really expect her to sell him her child.
His mouth tightened. “Two thousand, then. You’ll have money, your jewelry, your clothes, and you won’t have the burden of a child. Even a woman of your face and form would find it difficult to attract a protector with a baby in tow. Here.” He reached inside his jacket to pull out a small pouch. “I haven’t that much in coin with me. I will have to visit the bank. But here is a deposit on that.” He tossed the pouch down on the table. “I’ll return tomorrow for the boy.”
Candace Camp is a New York Times bestselling author of over sixty novels of contemporary and historical romance. She grew up in Texas in a newspaper family, which explains her love of writing, but she earned a law degree and practiced law before making the decision to write full-time. She has received several writing awards, including the RT Book Reviews Lifetime Achievement Award for Western Romances. Visit her at http://www.candace-camp.com.
Rowe brings a story that balances suspense, danger, and emotion. WIth Caleb not being able to remember anything about his life before he wakes up hurt and surrounded by rubble, he’s running on pure instinct. It also allows him the opportunity to embrace the man he is at heart and not just who time and circumstance has turned him into. WIth the help of Jenna and her spunky daughter Gracie, Caleb has to work fast to figure out who he is and why someone wants him dead.
Overall I enjoyed this book (although there may be a bit too much of instalove for some), and it can definitely be read on its own, but I think that it would have even more of an impact for someone who has read the series. It seems that each of the Stockton’s has had to fight to let go of their childhood and find their way back again. With Caleb being the last to return, there is probably a lot more feels for someone who has been there every story. I’m not saying not to give it a shot, but maybe start at the beginning – if the rest of the books are anything like this one, you should be set on reading materials for a while 🙂
*****
Author Info:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is both “contemporary romance at its best” (Bex ‘N’ Books) and a “paranormal star” (JR Ward). The author of more than fifty novels, Stephanie is a 2021 Vivian Award Nominee, and a 2018 winner and a five-time nominee for the RITA® award, the highest awards in romance fiction. As an award-winning author, Stephanie has been touching readers’ hearts and keeping them spellbound for more than a decade with her contemporary romances, romantic suspense, and paranormal romances. For more info on Stephanie, visit http://www.stephanierowe.com, follow her on Facebook: @StephanieRoweBooks, Twitter: @stephanierowe2, and Instagram: @stephanierowe2.
Romantic Reads and Such 