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✍🏻 Catherine Cowles’s Glimmers of You, book 3 of The Lost & Found series, is coming August 1st. Check out the sneak peek, and preorder your copy of it NOW! ✍🏻

USA Today bestseller, Catherine Cowles, has a sneak peek of her upcoming fake dating,
brother’s best friend, small town romance, Glimmers of You, coming August 1st.

“Why are your lips touching my sister?” Holt growled as he pushed to his feet.
Lawson strode out from the kitchen. “This is a joke, right?”
But Roan stayed sitting. He simply stared, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Caden didn’t seem especially worried and showed no signs of releasing me as three
pissed-off guys charged toward him. I, on the other hand, immediately started sweating.
“Explain,” Nash growled.
Caden rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “Gigi and I are dating.”
Lawson’s jaw dropped open, then closed, then opened again. “You two hate each
other.”
Caden shrugged. “I think that was really just flirting.”
Holt’s gaze narrowed on him. “Grae said she was going to murder you. Repeatedly.”
My fingers twisted in Caden’s shirt as the panic set in.
“Murder is apparently Gigi’s love language,” Caden explained.
We were so screwed.

Pre-Order Nowhttps://geni.us/GlmmrsofYouAmzn

About Catherine Cowles

Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her
dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally
decided to write down some of her own stories. When she’s not writing she can be
found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.

Connect with Catherine
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2IEQXSw
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Website: https://www.catherinecowles.com/
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Excerpt/Sneak Peek

✍🏻 A.L. Jackson’s Love Me Today releases on Monday! Need an excerpt to get you ready? Check it out HERE! ✍🏻

NYT Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson has the prologue AND first chapter of her upcoming single dad, enemies-to-lovers romance, Love Me Today, available to read now. Coming May 29th!

Prologue

Energy crackled through the dim-lit hall.

Tension binding the oxygen in attraction and need.

Every-fucking-thing I could no longer ignore as I stared at her where she hovered in front of her door.

“Caleb.” My name barely hit the air.

At the sound of it, I broke.

I crossed the space. No restraint left.

My hand dove into her hair at the side of her head, and I curled the other around her waist and tugged her against me.

We collided in a torrent of greed.

Mouths and tongues and spirits that no longer knew how to exist without the other.

We spun, gripping at each other, desperate to erase every inch of space as I kissed her.

Kissed her with a madness that burned me to the soul.

This woman who’d scored herself into the places I wasn’t supposed to let her go.

Because I knew what I brought into the lives of the people I cared about.

I knew the price they paid.  

And I should have known what touching her would cost…

Chapter One – Paisley

Leave it to me to be late, but it couldn’t be helped.

Gathering the straps of the reusable grocery bags, I slung them over my shoulder and shifted my cell to my other ear as I hustled out the automatic doors of the small grocery store.

“You know I don’t have many details,” I told my bestie Dakota as I jogged toward my old truck in the parking lot, my boots thudding hard on the pavement. I pinned my phone between my ear and shoulder so I could dig my keys from my bag. “You know Ryder got me the gig. Some cousin he doesn’t know all that well has a little girl who got her first pony, and she needs to learn how to ride it. Easy peasy.”

Extra cash in my pocket. Exactly what I needed.

“Are you sure you don’t just want to come and work with me at the café? We’re slammed this morning. I could really use the extra help.”

A small chuckle got free. “Which is why you’re wasting your time on the phone with me?”

“Hello, bestie duties. I needed to get the details before you run off to some rando stranger’s house in the middle of nowhere. You haven’t even talked to the guy. You could end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Buried in a shallow grave. Locked in an attic or basement with some freak telling you that you’re his new pet.”

I could physically feel Dakota shudder through the phone. She was so dramatic.

“You really should stop listening to true crime podcasts before you go to bed at night. Your paranoia is getting out of control. Besides, this is Ryder’s cousin we’re talking about. He isn’t going to send me to some serial killer’s house.”

At least I hoped so because it was super odd this guy had only communicated through email, all formal and calling me Ms. Dae, referring to himself as Mr. Greyson as he gave me the precise time to show at his ranch.

What a weirdo.

As far as I knew, Ryder had spent summers with him growing up, but they hadn’t seen that much of each other as adults, and the mysterious Mr. Greyson had moved into Time River about six months back. In all that time, I didn’t think anyone had ever even met the guy, which considering the size of the town we lived in, that was on the questionable side.

He had to be some kind of recluse, I guessed.

“It’s fine,” I told her. “You know Ryder wouldn’t lead me astray.”

“Okay, just text me as soon as you’re done. I want all the details. Or wait, come into the café so you can tell me face-to-face. Even better.”

A giggle slipped up my throat. “You missed me while I was away, didn’t you?”

“I won’t even try to deny it. This town was boring as crap without you.”

Regret pulled at my ribcage. The intense kind because you could never make up for time that had passed or the things you had missed. But I couldn’t wallow in the mistakes that I had made, I could only make sure I never repeated them again.

“I promise you will be bored no more,” I said like a solemn oath. “Mack’s Friday night?”

These cowgirl boots were made for dancing, and I was about to set them free.

“Um, you could not keep me away. Kayden is having a sleepover at my mom’s, and this girl is ready to get her party on.”

Dakota’s son was almost two. He’d been born while I’d been living in Arizona. It was just another thing I’d missed—being there when he was an infant, being there for my best friend.

“I can’t wait,” I told her. “I gotta run. I just picked up my grandpa’s medication and need to drop it off at his house before I head out to this interview, and I’m wicked late already.” 

“Give your grandpa a hug for me.”

“Will do. Talk to you soon, Doodle-Boo.”

“Bye, Paisley-Cakes.”

Ending the call, I yanked open the door to my old truck who I lovingly called Maybe.

Her hinges creaked in protest.

Yes, I’d named her. She’d been with me from the beginning, since I was sixteen and had scraped together enough money to buy her, and she’d been by my side through every escapade I’d embarked on ever since.

I tossed the grocery bags across the bench seat and hopped in, and I pushed myself up close to the steering wheel as I leaned in and stuffed the key into the ignition. I bounced as I gave it a little gas and cranked it over, coaxing her with sweet nothings. “That’s it. We have this. It’s you and me, Maybe. Don’t let me down now.”

She roared to life.

And I mean, roared, my old girl rumbling and chugging and vibrating like a raring beast. I caressed a hand over the weathered dash that sported a crack rivaling the Grand Canyon that ran from one side to the other, a perfect reflection of the one that ran across the windshield. “You’re so good to me.”

My phone pinged, and I glanced to the side where it was sitting on the seat.

Ryder: Don’t be late.

I rolled my eyes. As if.

Okay. Fine. I was always late.

Ryder knew me well. And truth be told, I didn’t want to make him look bad, so I pressed down on the brake as I shoved the gear into reverse.

Plus, I really needed this job. No, I really wanted this job.

I could feel the hope of it vibrating through my spirit, and I needed to get my butt in gear before I messed up this opportunity before it even started.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, squinting against the blinding rays of morning light that streaked in as the sun climbed into the endless expanse of blue Colorado sky.

All clear.

I gunned it out of the spot.

I jarred forward when Maybe banged into something from out of nowhere. The sound of grating metal was garbled by the screech that tore up my throat.

I rammed back on the brakes, holding tight to the steering wheel, blinking through the confusion, before my mind finally caught up to what had just happened.

“Crap,” I grumbled under my breath, and I tossed it into park and hopped out. I absolutely didn’t have time for this.

My boots hit the pavement, and I rounded the rear to find Maybe’s tail-end banged up against the bumper of a shiny black Range Rover.

Just freaking awesome.

The SUV was halfway out of its spot, too, and appeared to have been pulling out to head the opposite direction. The two vehicles had made impact right in the middle of the aisle.

I knelt to inspect the spot where we’d collided.

Relief gusted.

There was only a small dent and a scratch on the Rover’s bumper, and my truck didn’t have any damage at all.

It didn’t look bad. Nope, not too bad at all.

Except I was pretty sure the other driver might not agree when I felt the dark cloud descend from above.

Warily, I looked up, and my heart pitched in my chest.

I could barely make him out with the sunlight that blurred around him, the man a silhouette of darkness that towered two feet away. That didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the stone-cold eyes glaring down at me.

“Are you hurt?” His tone was completely at odds with the question.

“No. I’m fine.” It came out shakier than I’d anticipated.

Air huffed from his nose, and his deep voice was a rumble of condescension as he looked at the damage on his bumper. “I guess it’s too much to ask people to watch where they’re going.”

I pushed to standing, my words cracking with anger. “Excuse me? You ran into me.”

Okay, we’d run into each other, but if he was going to be a jerk about it…

A displeasured scoff blew from his nose, and he stepped forward.

I really hoped my eyes hadn’t actually popped out of my head when it brought him into view.

Bollocks and ballsacks.

I’d backed into an Abercrombie model.

Or maybe a Greek God reincarnated.

He glowered, his jaw and cheeks as hard as the icy blue eyes that seemed to glow from his ridiculous face. He was all sharp angles and polished stone, his lips so full and red that my tongue unconsciously stroked over mine.

Correction.

Fallen angel.

That’s what he was.

A dark one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant dick.

His brow lifted, his dark blond hair mostly short, cut close on the sides, but the longer pieces on top were pushed back, making him look fiercer.

My stomach twisted.

“I ran into you?” he challenged.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Um, yes, you did. You’re clearly farther out of your spot than I am. Besides, doesn’t your fancy-ass car have some sort of warning system to keep you from crashing right into unsuspecting people?”

I flung a hand toward his showpiece, scowling hard to prove my point.

Annoyance had him readjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket.

His suit jacket.

Seriously, who was this guy and where did he come from? He was obviously lost. Men like him didn’t belong in Time River, a spec of a small town in Nowhere, Colorado.

But he wouldn’t be the first tourist to stray from the big city and onto our streets. Seeking the beauty of the plains set in a backdrop of breathtaking mountains and the gorgeous river that ran through. In the winter, the mountains would be covered by snow, but at this time of year, only the soaring peaks were painted white, the snow slowly melting as the fullness of the summer approached.

The irritation the man wore was almost palpable. “It warned me, but since you flew out of your spot without care in that monstrosity, there was no time to avert the accident.”

Monstrosity?

“How dare you call Maybe a monstrosity.” I set my hand on the tailgate like it could shield her from the slur.

Exasperation seemed to shake his head as he shifted a bit to the side, and he had the audacity to rake his teeth over that full bottom lip. He returned his potent gaze back to me, blowing out a sigh of resignation. “You know what, I don’t have time for this.”

“Like I do,” I spat, trying to ignore the buzzy power radiating from him.

It wasn’t like he was beefy or anything. Everything about him was lean and hewn, but I’d bet my ass everything under that suit was sculpted in strength. Deceptively smooth. He was the type of guy who would strike before a person even knew he was coming for them.

I propped my hands on my hips. “Do you want my insurance information or what? Or we can exchange numbers or whatever. You barely have a scratch on your car, but I’m sure you’re going to want to get it fixed.”

Like this guy would settle for anything less than perfection.

“No, I don’t want your information. I’ll handle it.”

My mouth dropped open. I didn’t know if I was offended or relieved. “I do have insurance, you know.”

“Congrats, but I think I’ll see to things for myself.”

I blinked.

Congrats?

Without saying anything else, he turned on his heel and strode around the side of his car, taking that dark, broody, self-righteous ego with him.

I stood there gaping at his overpowering form as he slipped into the driver’s seat, the man far too tall and powerful for anyone’s good.

He didn’t spare me a glance when he put the SUV into drive, his tires squealing as he peeled away.

“Grrr…what a freaking jerk,” I shrieked. And still, I stood there staring as he took off onto Manchester, the main street that ran through Time River.

The second his SUV disappeared, I tore myself out of the trance he had me under and hightailed my ass back to the driver’s side of my truck and climbed inside. I shoved it back into reverse the way I’d done before I’d been so rudely interrupted and finished pulling out of the spot, then I shifted into drive and gunned it.

Sorry Ryder, now I really was going to be late.

Pre-Order on Amazon

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Want a Signed Paperback, Hardback or Collector’s Bundle? PRE-ORDER HERE

Can’t wait for the release? Be sure to vote for LOVE ME TODAY as one of your most anticipated May reads on Goodreads!

Vote Here

Connect with A.L.

A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.

Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, BLEEDING STARS, FIGHT FOR ME, CONFESSIONS OF THE HEART, FALLING STARS, and REDEMPTION HILLS novels. Watch out for her upcoming stand-alone, LOVE ME TODAY, releasing May 29th!

If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.

Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson – Sign up to receive her newsletter https://geni.us/ALJacksonBookClubB or text “aljackson” to 33222 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.

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✍🏻 Adriana Locke’s Flaunt is coming FAST. Want a little nibble of Banks? Check out this excerpt! ✍🏻

⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

FLAUNT BY ADRIANA LOCKE

Release Date: June 2nd

Genre/Tropes: Roommate-to-Lovers / Blue Collar / Small-Town Romance

CHECK OUT THIS EXCERPT!!

Flaunt by USA Today bestselling author Adriana Locke is coming June 2nd!

Make sure to pre-order this roommate-to-lovers romance TODAY!

https://geni.us/VE8XNT2

Add to Goodreads

https://geni.us/FlauntGR

EXCERPT

“Banks!” Ashley calls, stopping me in my tracks.

What?” I groan and face her again. “Call someone else. Whatever it is, call someone else to help her. I’ll even pay for it. It’ll be cheaper than the therapy I’ll have to endure after seeing her.”

“She needs help.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Oh, I know that. I rode with her all the way to Orlando and back to pick up someone’s shit when they moved in with Maddox.”

She sighs.

I sigh back at her.

We watch one another. Neither of us says a word. But Sara? Sara says lots of words, many of which can be heard through the phone dangling in Ashley’s hand from across the room.

If Sara had called and asked for my help, I wouldn’t answer. The woman is hell on wheels. She’s headstrong and thinks she knows everything. Her aversion to physical labor is astounding.

If I’m water, she’s oil—oil that hasn’t been changed in a hundred-thousand miles. And I’m basically holy water, so it’s a no-go.

But it’s not Sara who’s asking for my help. It’s Ashley. And Ashley is family.

Oh, fuck my life.

I blow out a long, hasty breath.

“I’ll let you come over for dinner tomorrow, too,” Ashley says, luring me in with her fluttery lashes.

Still, I hold strong and think it through.

Even if I put up an argument and do my best to resist her pleas for help, I’ll give in. Arguing will only delay the inevitable. At worst, Ashley will call Maddox, and he’ll call me, asking me to go. And I can’t say no to Maddox because he never says no to me.

Except for the spiders.

Three dinners,” I say. “And movie nights with you guys every Saturday for a month.”

She grins and thrusts the phone my way.

I take it, glaring at her. It only makes her giggle.

I sigh again, just to set the stage. Can’t let Sara think I’m happy about this.

“Hi, giant pain in the ass,” I say.

“Thinking about my ass again, I see.”

This is gonna suck.

Blurb:

Looking for a Fake Fiancé

Have you ever wanted to prove someone wrong so badly that you could taste it?

It doesn’t matter if they’re right. The fact that they had the audacity to say it is what counts.

Hi. It’s me. I’m that person.

The man I’ve been casually seeing told me I’m not “wife material” and should “lower my expectations”. Didn’t he realize I lowered them the moment I met him for dinner?

Obviously not.

Am I petty? Maybe. Annoyed? Of course. Determined? Definitely.

I need someone to help me flaunt my new engagement—my fiancé couldn’t wait to pop the question because I’m that amazing—in his face.

The problem? I don’t have a boyfriend, let alone a husband-to-be.

Which brings us to you.

Are you handsome? Successful? A smooth talker extraordinaire?

Are you willing to do all the things that someone madly in love would do?

Putting your hand on the small of my back. Forehead kissing. Acting like I’m a treasure you can’t live without. I need you to be prepared to do all those things … and maybe more.

What do you get out of this? I’m willing to negotiate terms—especially if they include a job and a place to stay. It’s a long story.

One night. One event. Let’s put on one heck of a show.

From USA Today and Amazon Charts Bestselling author comes a “hot and hilarious!” fake-dating tale between two frenemies that turn into roommates, coworkers, and, ultimately, lovers. Fans of close proximity, one-bed trope, and blue-collar, small-town heroes will fall madly in love with this story.

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author, Adriana Locke, writes contemporary romances about the two things she knows best—big families and small towns. Her stories are about ordinary people finding extraordinary love with the perfect combination of heart, heat, and humor.

She loves connecting with readers, fall weather, football, reading alpha heroes, everything pumpkin, and pretending to garden.

Hailing from a tiny town in the Midwest, Adriana spends her free time with her high school sweetheart (who she married over twenty-five years ago) and their four sons (who truly are her best work). Her kitchen may be a perpetual disaster, and if all else fails, there is always pizza.

Learn more at adrianalocke.com.

Connect w/Adriana:

Website: https://adrianalocke.com

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✍🏻 Talia Hunter’s Tough Cookie is one of my favs of the new season of Smartypants Romance. Noah Malone is a treasure of a hero. ✍🏻

Tough Cookie, an all-new heartfelt fake dating small-town romance from Talia Hunter, is now available in Kindle Unlimited!

Noah Malone is back in his hometown for a short break from his stunt work, but his mother’s set on convincing him to settle down in Green Valley so he can give her grandbabies like the good Lord intended. Not only is she pushing him to help out at the Donner Bakery decorating cookies, but her matchmaking is relentless.

To end his mother’s awkward set-ups, Noah needs a no-strings-attached pretend girlfriend. And who better than Carla, a mysterious recluse who seems to have taken an instant dislike to him? When she reveals she’s been isolated by illness, he proposes a fake relationship that’ll stop his momma’s shenanigans and help Carla ease back into the world.

Tech-geek Carla creates a spreadsheet of fake-date challenges. She’s serious and focused on her goal of slowly becoming more social… until daredevil Noah starts messing with her spreadsheet. He’s ridiculously charming, and his sexy additions may be even more appealing than the cookies he brings her, but Carla won’t let her resistance crumble.

Opposites may attract, but can such different people find a recipe for love?

‘Tough Cookie’ is a full-length contemporary romance, can be read as a standalone, and is book #3 in the Donner Bakery series, Green Valley Chronicles, Penny Reid Book Universe.

Grab your copy TODAY!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3Ks706P

Amazon UK: https://bit.ly/3kpRSMp

Amazon CA: https://bit.ly/3Y6u8Ln

Amazon AU: https://bit.ly/3ZbVoc5

Audible Audiobook: http://bit.ly/3JHWd6j

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/41ueX1j

Excerpt

Pulling my truck up in front of our old farmhouse, the first thing I noticed was how enormous the old oak tree behind the house had grown, and how far its branches stretched over the roof. I made a mental note to trim it back. 

The house was even prettier than I remembered, mostly because someone had placed potted herbs along the porch rail to soak up the winter sunshine. My mother had said she hadn’t sent anyone over to check on things since her tenant had moved in, yet the place looked well maintained. The vegetable beds had been covered with cold frames, and the plants inside seemed to be thriving. And chickens were scratching around in the large run I built for Momma years ago. 

Who was the mysterious tenant who grew her own food and never asked for anything?

Maybe she was on the run, or in witness protection. She could have stolen a bunch of money before holing herself up in the isolated house and was living in constant fear of being found by the feds. Though in all honesty, that was the plot of the last movie I’d worked on.

Still, when I mounted the steps to the porch with the jar of cookies under my arm—to my credit, it was still more than half full—and knocked on the front door, I was ready for just about anything. 

Anything, that was, except what actually happened.

When the door swung open and I saw the woman in the doorway, my jaw loosened. Momma had called her pretty, and though it was a true statement, it didn’t do her justice.

The woman’s face shape was delicate, but her eyes, cheekbones, and lips were generous, like she’d managed to swipe a little more than her fair share. Her eyes were a rich brown. She had dark, wavy hair that fell past her shoulders and was tucked neatly behind her ears. She was wearing thick, fuzzy socks, sweatpants, and what looked like several layers of warm tops. Despite the layers, her bombshell curves were obvious.

I was struck speechless. But it wasn’t just her beauty that made words dry up. It was the way she was looking at me.

Her gaze traveled up from my boots, over my jeans, and cut a slow path across the jersey I’d worn to keep my mother happy. It brushed over the jar of cookies on its way, and grazed my freshly trimmed beard. Her gaze stopped short of reaching my eyes, however. It jerked back to the cookies. And all the while, a frown creased her brow. 

She didn’t look happy to see me. The opposite, in fact. 

About Talia Hunter

Talia Hunter likes to include her three favorite things in her novels: toe-curling romance, snort-laughs, and heart-warming friendships. She recently moved to Australia’s beautiful Gold Coast, where she’s constantly amazed and not at all freaked out by the weird and wonderful critters. When she’s not writing, you can usually find her with a glass of wine, a good book, at least one of her three cats, and a jumbo-sized can of bug spray.

Find Talia online

Website: www.taliahunter.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/taliahunter

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✍🏻 Wondering what to read this week? Check out Stacy Travis’s second chance romance, Dough You Love Me? ✍🏻

Dough You Love Me?, an all-new second chance small-town romance from Stacy Travis, is now available in Kindle Unlimited!

First rule when returning to your hometown after storming out of sight: don’t fall for the guy who broke your heart.

Julia Browne should know better than to kiss where she bakes. She’s built a bread empire in California, and only plans to stay in Green Valley long enough to sell the family house.

She certainly won’t spend any more time with Shane Meadows than she has to…and she will not let him draw her in with his soft blue eyes or level her with his handsome smirk of a grin. 

The last thing she wants is a temporary gig at Donner Bakery, baking sourdough side-by-side with Shane and clashing with his ego. And he thinks the sassy baker should take her fancy bread and go back where she came from.

But that’s before they take a series of wrong turns on a road trip to look at wheat, leaving them stranded for the night. Out on the open road, neither of them can escape the sizzling attraction and old feelings that feel a lot more real this time around.

But life is complicated, and Julia’s life in California might derail their second chance at love. Will they wake up and smell the sourdough?

They say you should leave the past in the past, but what if it’s the winning recipe for love?

‘Dough You Love Me?’ is a full-length contemporary romance, can be read as a standalone, and is book #2 in the Donner Bakery series, Green Valley World, Penny Reid Book Universe.

Grab your copy TODAY!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/3YP7sQU

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3YXzIRu

Amazon CA: https://bit.ly/3YSKJmR

Amazon AU: https://bit.ly/3IsOGrE

Audible: http://bit.ly/3ngSkhk

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/3KFvj0Z

Excerpt

My eyes traveled to one of the musicians who stood out from the others, not just because he was tall and lean with a dark shock of hair hanging over his forehead. He sat playing the French horn, a gleaming gorgeous pretzel of brass with a bell at one end.

The sound was a love language that spoke directly to my heart. 

But an intricately curved, soulful symphony instrument at a country music jam session full of Tennessee local boys . . . WTF?

I didn’t have to be a country music aficionado to know that one of these things was not like the others. 

Every other instrument came from the string family—banjo, guitar, fiddle. An older man with a gray beard stood behind Cletus playing the bass, plucking the strings, and nodding along with the music.

The faces in the room started looking more familiar. Maybe I’d known some of them once. Maybe I wasn’t such a stranger. Not that it mattered, since I had no plans of sticking around afterward to chat. I felt worn out from the funeral and the travel. 

But . . . that horn . . . 

My eyes remained riveted to the instrument and the man playing it. I’d been to a couple of orchestra performances with a full brass section. Those were the types of places people normally found a French horn—with musicians wearing tuxedos and following a conductor. 

This man and his instrument stuck out like a glossy gemstone in a sea of wicker and cardboard. And yet, oddly, it worked. He pursed his lips and blew out notes that had no business sounding so beautiful.

Nodding and stomping one foot, he picked up the rhythm of the other instruments and made his accompaniment sound like it belonged there. 

He kept one hand in the bell-shaped end of the horn and used his other hand to draw out a melodic sound. From the first note, he had me willing to follow him down whatever path he took. For the first time since I’d arrived in town—hell, for the first time in months—I felt a glimmer of happiness. Double-chocolate cupcake happiness.

I wanted to hear more, and at the same time, I knew exactly what I would hear. Something in his beautiful aching call sounded familiar, as though I’d been hearing it my whole life. 

But that was impossible. 

I hadn’t been in town in years. Even if I’d heard this man play before, it had to have been so long ago that surely the sounds wouldn’t be familiar now. 

The music called, and I answered by freeing myself of the funereal black jacket I wore over a white tank top and getting comfortable leaning against the wall. As a spectator, I had  license to gaze at him for as long as I wanted. 

My senses scrambled and competed for which one should win out—the sight of him, the sound of his music, or the touch I felt from him halfway across a crowded room. 

Taking a couple steps closer, I cautiously took in the whole of the man playing the gleaming horn. He looked about my age, early thirties, and the strong cut of his jaw and short beard made things happen to my lady parts that hadn’t happened in a very long time. 

He wore a dark brown corduroy sport coat over a fine-checked plaid flannel shirt and dark blue jeans. His eyes were a pale blue, like an illusion of shallow water that actually runs deep enough to be dangerous. Soulful. Like repositories of hurt or art or knowledge. 

Almost as though he could feel the heat of my stare, his eyes fastened to mine and didn’t let go. 

So I did the only logical thing a person could do when faced with a sexy, soulful stranger’s lingering gaze. 

I ran from the room.

About Stacy Travis

Stacy Travis writes charming, spicy romance about bookish, sassy women and the hot alphas who fall for them. 

Writing makes her infinitely happy, but that might be the coffee talking.  

She’s worked as a journalist, camp counselor, TV writer, SAT tutor, corporate finance researcher, education technology editor, and non-fiction author. When she’s not on a deadline, she’s in running shoes complaining that all roads seem to go uphill. Or on the couch with a margarita. Or fangirling at a soccer game. 

She’s never met a dog she didn’t want to hug. And if you have no plans for Thanksgiving, she’ll probably invite you to dinner. 

Stacy lives in Los Angeles with her very tall sons and a poorly-trained rescue dog who hoards socks. And she’s serious about the Thanksgiving thing.

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✍🏻 Ooohhhh…who’s ready for Catherine Cowles’s Echoes of You? Check out this sneak peek! ✍🏻

💜Echoes of You Sneak Peek💜

USA Today bestseller, Catherine Cowles, has a sneak peek of her upcoming friends-to-lovers, small town romance, Echoes of You, coming May 2nd!

MADDIE

His fingers found the buttons on my shirt, though he paused for a moment, silently asking for permission.

I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs. A million different emotions warred inside me. Want, anxiety, excitement, fear. But most of all, hope. For this moment. For us.

Nash’s fingers deftly unfastened each button. But he seemed to be in no hurry. My hands lifted to the top buttons to help the process along.

“Don’t.” His voice was all husky smoke.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been dreaming of peeling the clothes from your body for as long as I can remember. And I’m going to enjoy every damn second.”

My eyes flared as my hands fell back to the mattress. “Oh.”

Nash leaned over me, his lips skimming the column of my neck. “I’ve dreamt of how this skin would feel. How it would taste. I’ve come to pictures of you in my mind more times than I can count. And I know the real thing will ruin me forever. But it’ll be so damn worth it.”

My breaths came in short pants, my fingers fisting in the sheets. “Nash…”

 He pulled back, moving from button to button. “Hmm?”

 His focus was zeroed in on each expanse of skin my parted shirt revealed as if it were the most riveting sight he’d ever seen. Nash’s thumb circled my belly button. It was the most innocent of movements, but it had everything in me drawing up and winding tighter.

“Please.”

Nash unbuttoned another clasp. “Don’t rush me.”

I squirmed in place, a million curses on the tip of my tongue. But two could play this game. I ran my bare foot up the inside of his leg from his calf to his thigh to what stood at attention between us.

“Maddie…” he growled.

I grinned. “What? If you get to touch, I get to touch.” I stroked Nash through his sweatpants.

The sound that slipped from his lips wasn’t altogether human. Nash took both sides of my blouse and tugged. The remaining buttons went flying across the room.

I gaped at him. “You did not just do that.”

Nash grinned as he slid the blouse down my arms. As the fabric parted more, he stilled, his gaze zeroing in on the kaleidoscope of colors on my side.

I swallowed. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His fingers lightly skimmed the marred skin, then he bent and ghosted his lips over the fading bruises. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. That I didn’t—”

I grabbed Nash’s tee and gave a hard tug. “No. It’s not on you. And he doesn’t get a place here. Not when it’s you and me. Not when I finally have what I’ve wanted all these years.”

Nash took my mouth in a long, slow kiss. “It’s you and me.”

“Always you and me,” I whispered against his lips.

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About Catherine Cowles

Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she’s not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.

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✍🏻 Adriana Locke’s Fluke is coming next week. Check out this excerpt to hold you over until then. ✍🏻

FLUKE BY ADRIANA LOCKE

Release Date: April 10th

Genre/Tropes: Fake ex-husband / Small Town Romance / Friends to Lovers / One Bed / He Falls First

Fluke, an all-new small-town romance, by USA Today bestselling author Adriana Locke is coming April 10th!

CHECK OUT AN EXCERPT BELOW!

Pre-order this fake ex-husband, small-town romance TODAY!

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EXCERPT

“Do you check your email?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“Have you checked it today?”

“Uh, no. I’ve been working all day.”

She clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “May I ask you to let me see your emails, please?”

Excuse me?

I press my lips together, curiosity getting the best of me, and pull my phone out of my pocket.

“Jess?”

“No, you may not see my emails.”

Her hands go to her hips. “Please?”

“What are you up to, Pip?”

She reaches for my phone in a quick, bold move. Unfortunately for her, I’m quicker. I hold it up in the air and effectively out of her reach.

“Please, don’t look at them. At least not with me standing here,” she says, hopping a whole foot off the ground to try to reach the device.

I chuckle. “What did you do?”

“Give it to me.” She hops again. “Now.”

“Not a chance.” I swipe the screen and find my email app as she tries to tug my arm down. “Will you stop it?”

“Jess,” she says, fake crying. She stops hopping. “Wait.”

I laugh at her little pout. “You are so fucking cute.”

“I hate you.”

“You do not.”

The app opens, and I scan my inbox. It’s the third message from the top that catches my attention.

Plum, Pippa Re: SEEKING AN EX-HUSBAND

Blurb:

SEEKING AN EX-HUSBAND

I need a fake ex-husband.

Let me explain …

I may have let it slip to my new co-workers that I have an ex-husband. Now they’re fascinated with the details, specifically with him.

Why wouldn’t they be? He’s gorgeous, has exceptional skills in the bedroom, and is determined to win me back.

But there’s a problem. He doesn’t exist.

The bigger problem? I have to produce him to save my job.

This is where you come in.

I’m seeking someone to play a smitten ex-husband for two weeks. You’ll need to remember our love story—details matter when it comes to romance! Please be prepared to travel in-state at a moment’s notice. We may be in close proximity and sharing a bed may be required.

One more thing—kisses are required for optics as necessary.

If this sounds interesting or, at the very least, entertaining, let me know.

Signed,

Your Future Ex-Wife

Buckle up for a steamy adventure between friends-turned-lovers in this new “fresh twist on a favorite trope!” take on fake dating, close proximity, and romance in the workplace from USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke.

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling author, Adriana Locke, writes contemporary romances about the two things she knows best—big families and small towns. Her stories are about ordinary people finding extraordinary love with the perfect combination of heart, heat, and humor.

She loves connecting with readers, fall weather, football, reading alpha heroes, everything pumpkin, and pretending to garden.

Hailing from a tiny town in the Midwest, Adriana spends her free time with her high school sweetheart (who she married over twenty-five years ago) and their four sons (who truly are her best work). Her kitchen may be a perpetual disaster, and if all else fails, there is always pizza.

Learn more at adrianalocke.com.

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Excerpt/Sneak Peek

✍🏻 I just finished Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s The Rules of Dating My Best Friend’s Sister, and the chemistry between Holden and Lala is off-the-charts HOT! Get ready for this one…✍🏻

Title: The Rules of Dating My Best Friend’s Sister
Authors: Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 2, 2023
Excited about Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s 
upcoming release, The Rules of Dating 
My Best Friend’s Sister? 
Check out this SNEAK PEEK!
“What the hell?” He stood on the other side of the door. “Where’s the doorknob?”
I leaned down and spoke through the hole where the knob used to be. “It’s in here with me. The lock jammed, and the knob came off in my hands when I tried to pull it open.”
“Alright. Give me a minute. I need to run next door to get a screwdriver.”
“I have one now! I picked it up after the beeping incident, so I wouldn’t need to bug you again. It’s in the top drawer in the kitchen!”
“Okay, great. Hang on.”
Two minutes later, the door popped open. It wasn’t until I saw Holden’s face that I remembered I was only wearing a tank top and underwear, sans bra.
He gulped and took a long look before turning his head. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed.”
I wasn’t the only one scantily clad. Holden had on only a pair of boxer briefs, his beautiful tanned skin and carved six pack on full display for my eager eyes, yet again. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. Silence ticked by until Holden turned his head back, probably to see why I’d grown quiet. “You oka—”
My eyes rose to meet his, but not before he’d caught me ogling him.
I shook my head and laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I just hadn’t expected you to be in your underwear either, I guess. It caught me off guard.”
Holden ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m sorry if I checked you out, too.”
I should’ve just left the bathroom and covered up with a robe, but something about being near this man made me say and do things that were completely out of character. “Would you mind if I…looked a little more?”
Holden’s brows shot up to his hairline. “You want to check me out?”
My face heated. I shook my head and looked down. “Oh my gosh. I’m so embarrassed. I think the lack of sleep and stress from being locked in here made me a little bonkers. It’s just that maybe we both have some pent-up curiosity about what we look like as adults. I mean, I’ve only stolen glimpses of you without a shirt on since we were teenagers in my backyard pool. And you certainly haven’t seen me in a skimpy bottom and no bra since then. I guess I was thinking if we took a good, long look, once and for all, we might get it out of our systems.”
Holden stared at me. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. Eventually, his eyes dropped to my chest. “You have no bra on…”
I shook my head. “No bra.”
He swallowed. “Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Fuck yeah. I’m going to hell anyway. Might as well enjoy the ride down. But you have to stay in the bathroom, and I’ll stay on this side of the doorway.”
“Okay.” I bit my bottom lip. “You look first.”
“Why don’t we look at the same time?”
I nodded. “Good idea. How long should we do it for?”
Holden shrugged. “A minute?”
“Do you have your phone?”
“No. I thought someone broke in and you were being attacked. My phone was the last thing on my mind.”
“Mine should be on the coffee table. Do you want to grab it so we can use the timer?”
Holden walked away and came back ten seconds later. “What’s your code?”
“Zero, seven, one, three.”
He started to type and then froze before looking up at the ceiling. “That’s the day you’re getting married, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
Holden cursed as he went back to typing. “I’m so fucking going to hell.”
He called up the clock app and then turned the phone to show me. The countdown was set for one minute. His finger hovered over the green button. “You ready?”
I nodded.
Holden pressed the button, and we began to openly ogle each other.
Copyright © 2022 by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward
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BLURB
From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes a new standalone romance.
Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t.
Just don’t do it.
Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.
As a musician whose longest committed relationship was six weeks, I, Holden Catalano, was the last guy on Earth who should’ve been messing around with Laney Ellison.
The super smart girl whom I affectionately dubbed Lala since childhood was always off limits.
Though that didn’t stop me from thinking about her over the years, especially those times when the two of us would sneak out onto the roof and talk for hours after my buddy fell asleep. It was innocent, but I’d always held a torch for her.
After Ryan passed away, I vowed to always protect Lala. That included protecting her—from me.
Now all grown up and a scientist, Lala needed a place to stay when she accepted a temporary research position in New York. I thought I did the right thing by offering her an apartment in the building I co-owned with my three friends.
Except having her close by reignited all of those old feelings.
And things started to get complicated.
Especially since she was engaged.
And especially since, lately, I’d noticed something more in her eyes. Desire.
Lala didn’t exactly look at me like the platonic brother figure I was trying so desperately to be, even though I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.
Yet, I was being good—on my very best behavior.
But you know what they say…all good things must come to an end, right?
VI KEELAND
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles are currently translated in twenty-seven languages and have appeared on bestseller lists in the US, Germany, Brazil, Bulgaria and Hungary. Three of her short stories have been turned into films by Passionflix, and two of her books are currently optioned for movies. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
PENELOPE WARD
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance. 
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over thirty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
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ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT & AUDIO
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✍🏻 Penelope Ward’s Toe The Line is coming next week. Check out this sneak peek and preorder your copy of it today. ✍🏻

Title: Toe the Line
Author: Penelope Ward
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Trope: Friends-to-Lovers
Release Date: February 27, 2023
BLURB
From New York Times bestselling author Penelope Ward comes a friends-to-lovers story spanning more than a decade…

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends.
What I knew about Archie: he was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger.
When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.
The boy I remembered was now a full-grown man—but with the same attitude.
After a rough start, Archie and I unexpectedly started getting along one day and eventually became friends. We shared secrets and bonded during our morning jogs. I discovered that Archie had a wild spirit and that he struggled to conform to his father’s expectations.
Things were cool until I had to go and ruin it, getting drunk one night, and blurting out my fantasy—involving him.
I took it back, but it was too late. Archie had heard me loud and clear. After that, we never quite knew how to toe the line.
When that summer came to an abrupt and shocking end, I headed back to college, unsure if anything would ever be the same again.
Across the miles over the years, he and I stayed in touch as friends, but fate and timing always kept us from becoming more.
You know the saying: If two people are meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other?
Let’s just say Archie came back into my life in a way I would’ve never expected.
And this time, my heart would really be put to the test.
PRE-ORDER LINKS
**No Amazon e-book preorder. 
Will go live on/around release day
EXCERPT
Copyright © 2022 Penelope Ward
Mixing alcohol with nostalgia, it turns out, is not always the wisest choice.
When Archie and I returned to the house that night, we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. Neither of us was tired enough to sleep. But the alcohol from the beers at the beach and the wine he’d opened once we got back home was going to my head fast. I could no longer be trusted with my words.
Archie took out the chocolate cake he’d made earlier and placed it on the counter. We both began eating it—with our bare hands. It was a mess, and I likely had chocolate all over my face. So this is how it ends, huh? I suppose it could be worse.
“I had so much fun tonight,” he said with his mouth full. “You?”
“It was awesome. Reminded me of the old days.” I licked chocolate off the corner of my mouth.
Archie’s eyes fell to my lips. “Seven years ago sometimes feels like yesterday, and other times like forever ago, doesn’t it?”
When I felt my eyes starting to well up, I knew that was my cue. I never wanted to leave Archie’s side, but I needed this weekend to be over before I lost it in front of him. “Anyway, we’d better go to bed,” I told him. “We both have early flights in the morning.”
I hopped down from my stool and rushed over to the sink to wash my hands. I hadn’t intended to make eye contact with him again because I didn’t want him to notice my eyes. Then again, he was a little drunk, too, so not sure how perceptive he would be.
Then I felt his presence nearby.
“I have so many regrets,” he said from behind me.
I turned to face him and swallowed. “Regrets about what?”
He had chocolate cake on his face, but somehow he’d never looked hotter.
“Everything,” he whispered. “With you.” He paused. “What we did and what we didn’t do. The way that summer ended. Everything.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because I’m fucking drunk, I guess. I don’t know.” He pulled on his hair. “You look so goddamn beautiful right now.” His eyes were hazy as he murmured, “It hurts to look at you.”
My tears felt ready to fall. I couldn’t let that happen. “Keep that shit to yourself,” I muttered.
“We never talk about it, Noelle. We talk about everything else except the massive elephant in the room—the things we did that summer, what almost happened before—”
“Stop.” I sniffled. “You’re only bringing it up because you’re drunk. This is not a healthy way to discuss anything.”
“Maybe.” Archie leaned against the center island and placed his head in his hands. He went silent for a long time. “You were with Shane for like…forever. I thought you were gonna marry that guy. And I thought you were happy. I never thought you’d break up with him.” He looked down at the floor. “I kept waiting and…”

Waiting? He was waiting for things to end between Shane and me?

“I’m sorry…” He shook his head. “You’re right. I need to stop.”
Nothing good could come of two people with a ton of unspoken baggage trying to work things out while drunk. I could’ve poured out all of my feelings. I could have chosen to complicate his already-complicated life—turned it into a goddamn soap opera. But I loved him too much. I loved him. So I wouldn’t do that.
“Goodnight, Archie. Get some sleep.”
I left him standing in the kitchen next to a chocolate cake that looked like it had been ravaged by wild animals.
Then I went to my room and cried myself to sleep.
AUTHOR BIO
Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling
author of contemporary romance.
 
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a
television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son,
and beautiful daughter with autism.
 
With over two million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. Her books have been translated into over a dozen
languages and can be found in bookstores around the world.
AUTHOR LINKS
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Excerpt/Sneak Peek

✍🏻 Catherine Cowles’s newest romance, Whispers of You, is DIVINE. This story kept me on the edge of my seat and Cowles salved the story’s pain with a gorgeous second-chance romance. ✍🏻

💙Whispers of You Sneak Peek💙

USA Today bestseller, Catherine Cowles, has a sneak peek of her upcoming second-chance, small-town romance, Whispers of You, coming January 31st!

HOLT

Wren opened the door to reveal a massive Husky with the most piercing blue eyes standing guard in front of her. The dog’s gaze went from Lawson to me and back again. 

Wren’s head jerked in my direction. “What are you doing here?”

Lawson winced. “Sorry. He overheard the call. There was no stopping him.” 

My eyes traced the trails that tears had left on Wren’s cheeks. Some ended on her chin, while others streaked down her neck. Marks that I had put there. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Wren stared at me for the count of three. “I’m fine. Really.” 

Lawson cleared his throat. “Can you show me where you found the shoe print?”

She nodded, motioning around the house. “I was in the hall with Shadow. I had just hung up with Grae and heard what I thought was a twig snap. Shadow growled, which she doesn’t usually do unless she’s warning me that she heard something.” 

“Did you hear anything other than the twig snapping? Voices? Footsteps?” Lawson asked. 

Wren shook her head. “Nothing…” 

Her voice trailed off in a way that had me picking up my pace. “What is it?”

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About Catherine Cowles

Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she’s not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.

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