STUCK-UP SUIT

(A standalone novel)

Release date 4/11/2016

A Contemporary Romance novel

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Authors

Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland

RELEASE DATE: April 11th, 2016

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Cover Information

Cover designer: Letitia Hasser, r.b.a designs

Model: Dusan Susnjar

Photographer: Tijana Vukovic

Blurb

It started out like any other morning on the train.

Until I became mesmerized by the guy sitting across the aisle.

He was barking at someone on his phone like he ruled the world.

Who did the stuck-up suit think he was…God?

Actually, he looked like a God. That was about it.

When his stop came, he got up suddenly and left. So suddenly, he dropped his phone on the way out.

I might have picked it up.

I might have gone through all of his photos and called some of the numbers.

I might have held onto the mystery man’s phone for days—until I finally conjured up the courage to return it.

When I traipsed my ass across town to his fancy company, he refused to see me.

So, I left the phone on the empty desk outside the arrogant jerk’s office.

I might have also left behind a dirty picture on it first though.

I didn’t expect him to text back.

I didn’t expect our exchanges to be hot as hell.

I didn’t expect to fall for him—all before we even met.

The two of us couldn’t have been any more different.

Yet, you know what they say about opposites.

When we finally came face to face, we found out opposites sometimes do more than attract—we consumed each other.

Nothing could have prepared me for the ride he took me on. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for where I’d wind up when the ride was over.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.

Other books from Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

Cocky Bastard

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Meet Penelope Ward

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.

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Other books from Penelope Ward

RoomHate

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Sins of Sevin

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Stepbrother Dearest

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Gemini

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Jake Undone (Jake #1)

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My Skylar

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Jake Understood (Jake #2)

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Meet Vi Keeland

Vi Keeland is a native New Yorker with three children that occupy most of her free time, which she complains about often, but wouldn't change for the world. She is an attorney and a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, & USA Today Best Selling author. Over the last three years, ten of her titles have appeared on the USA Today Bestseller lists and three on the New York Times Bestseller lists.

Website | Facebook | Twitter |Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest

Additional Books by Vi Keeland

Life on Stage series (2 standalone books)

Beat

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Throb

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Kobo: http://bit.ly/1slglLN

MMA Fighter series (3 standalone books)

Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter Series, Book One)

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Worth The Chance (MMA Fighter Series, Book Two)

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Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter Series, Book Three)

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1wbsJEK

B & N: http://bit.ly/1ljdVzb

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The Cole Series (2 book serial)

Belong to You (Cole Series, Book One)

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Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/belong-to-you-vi-keeland/1114962845

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Made for You (Cole Series, Book Two)

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Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1KRsdCx

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/made-for-you-vi-keeland/1115883225

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Standalone novels

The Baller

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iBooks: http://apple.co/1QM9TfP

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Kobo: http://bit.ly/1SEiOhC

Left Behind (A Young Adult Novel)

Amazon US:http://amzn.to/1G9HdDK

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Rmi3xp

First Thing I See

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Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1JWFo21

THANK YOU!

Title: Slip of the Tongue

Author: Jessica Hawkins

Genre: Contemporary Romance

 Release Date: February 25, 2016

Blurb

Sadie Hunt isn’t perfect—but her husband is. Nathan Hunt has her coffee waiting every morning. He holds her hand until the last second. He worships the Manhattan sidewalk she walks on. Until one day, he just…stops. And Sadie finds herself in the last place she ever expected to be. Lonely in her marriage.

When rugged and sexy Finn Cohen moves into the apartment across the hall, he and Sadie share an immediate spark. Finn reveals dreams for a different life. Sadie wants to save her marriage. Their secrets should keep them apart, not ignite a blistering affair. But while Sadie’s marriage runs colder by the day, she and Finn burn hotter.

Her husband doesn’t want her anymore. The man next door would give up everything to have her.

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Excerpt

After spending two hours outdoors getting my headshots taken by Finn, I slide into the backseat of the Uber with Finn, grateful to be back inside. He puts an arm around my shoulders and draws me to him. “Cold?”

I should pull away. Once I have it, though, his warmth is impossible to reject and feels as necessary as breathing. “A little.”

He squeezes me closer. Moves his hand up and down my bicep. “You’re shivering.”

The driver looks at us in the rearview mirror. “You guys are a cute couple.”

“Thanks,” I say.

Finn arches an eyebrow, pleased—because she thinks we’re together, or because I didn’t correct her? I don’t even want to correct her. I’ve missed the look she’s giving us, the one a woman makes when she’s more envious than jealous. I get it all the time with Nathan. That feeling, coupled with the heater blasting from the front seat, leaves me slightly woozy.

We’re just like actors in a movie, I tell myself. This isn’t real. It doesn’t count. After a few minutes, the urgency to get warm lessens, and the door opens to another less pressing, but still basic need. Because that’s how my arousal feels—essential. The more it’s ignored, the fiercer it grows. I snuggle into his side. All it takes is his hand on my upper thigh to invite an assault of graphic fantasies. Finn shoving me down on the backseat because he can’t control himself anymore. Thrusting his fingers under the hem of my dress to find me ready for him. The lower half of my body aches with sudden demands.

“Some of those photos we just took were for me,” he whispers in my ear. He couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to tease me. My legs are jelly-like. “Does that make you mad?”

I check to see if the driver is paying attention. She must know I’m married. How can something so vital and concrete in my life be hidden? “What if I say yes?” I ask.

“I’ll delete them. If you’re sure it doesn’t . . . turn you on.”

I try not to pant. “Why would it?”

“Imagining me looking at them later.”

I turn my head. Our mouths are a breath apart. One more inch, and they’ll touch. Again. Those lips are the color of sunburnt rock but whisper soft. We’ve done it once. Would one more kiss hurt? I can’t stop the image of him looking at me, my exposed, white throat on his computer, his cock in a firm fist. It should disgust me. It makes my panties damp instead.

“No response necessary,” he says as the car pulls up to the curb. “I can read it on your face.”

Author Bio

Jessica Hawkins grew up between the purple mountains and under the endless sun of Palm Springs, California. She studied international business at Arizona State University and has also lived in Costa Rica and New York City. To her, the most intriguing fiction is forbidden, and that's what you'll find in her stories. Currently, she resides wherever her head lands, which is often the unexpected (but warm) keyboard of her trusty MacBook.

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My review- ** spoiler alert ** This book......Well let's start off as if you feel like your the character in the book and can relate so much. You have Sadie with her perfect husband Nathan who will go to wits end to make her happy. Perfect couple or so you think. He starts becoming distant and when she has a new neighbor Finn move in and leans on for comfort. Little did she know they have met before and the connection they had still lingered. He's married but is Sadie worth fighting for. could he really care for someone so much that he just met? Does she want to fight the pull for the other man or give her husband a shot who is shutting her out when al she wants to do is talk. The emotions in this book are like no other. Jessica had done that to me in the Cityscape series but this was different. Something a lot of people can relate with of ups and downs, what ifs, strong connection and betrayal.

 

Title: I Pick You

Author: Jettie Woodruff

Release Date: Feb 23, 2016

Find on Goodreads

 

 

 

When I left Nashville, Tennessee, I knew deep in my heart I wouldn't be back. I knew I would never be heard on every country music station around the world, and I would never step foot on the Grand Ole Opry stage. Cold hard guilt and responsibilities that I didn't want forced me on a different path.

 

Me being responsible for an eighteen-month-old was a horrible idea. Me being a second grade teacher in a catholic school was plain ludicrous.

 

Life sucked, love hurt, and I didn't know who to pick.

 

Amazon

 

 

 

Kit held up the blue book with white stickers, spelling out The Bay Bible. “This book will tell you any and everything you would need to know, right down to a mosquito bite.”

 

I blew out a puff of air, cocky air. “I’m pretty sure I can handle a mosquito bite. I didn’t need a tab for that one. I’m not stupid, just not made for this daddy stuff.”

 

“What you put on your mosquito bite isn’t the same as hers. You have to be careful with all those chemicals. A little bit of baking soda and water does the same thing.”

 

“Oh, okay, yeah, that makes sense,” I admitted while I stepped off my pedestal, accepting defeat, the thought of my grandma using that same home remedy crossing my mind. Nope, didn’t know how to do this, and I didn’t want to. I was doomed, she was doomed, and this was a horrible idea.

 

“You’re going to be fine.”

 

That wasn’t what I was worried about. Not fully. “And what about the girl? You’re trusting someone who has never been around little kids. Ever.”

 

“I’m trusting her with her dad, and stop calling her the girl. Her name is Bay.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Why you would name a child, Bay is beyond me. Especially when your last name is Berry.”

 

“Hey, I gave her your name. I could have given her mine.”

 

“Whatever, it’s still a stupid name. How much time do I have, Kit? I have to pack up this place, get a job and get out of the city.”

 

Kit frowned while her head did this little jerking thing. Like I had just slapped her across her face. “You’re leaving Nashville?”

 

“I know you’ve only seen the ceiling of my apartment, but I’m sure you noticed the size? Where’s she going to play? Where is she going to sleep? And, what? Am I just going to make her a bed in my guitar case while I perform on the streets until two in the morning? Of course, I’m leaving Nashville.”

 

“I remember your apartment, idiot, but where would you go?”

 

“Idit,” the tiny little voice said from the bed.

 

Kit laughed and scolded her with a lighthearted tone. “You can’t say that.”

 

“I don’t know yet. I just sent out a resume right before I called. I’ll let you know when I know.”

 

“But what kind of job? I mean what can you do besides sing?”

 

I shook my head a little with that one, deciding not to tell the dumb twit. Not because I wasn’t proud of the degree I had gotten as a backup plan. It was more because she didn’t think I was capable of such an accomplishment. She didn’t know shit about me, and it pissed me off that she was so quick to judge. “Oh, I don’t know, Kit. I bet I could mow lawns, or maybe change some oil or something.”

 

Kit’s frown never changed and she continued to start each sentence with, but. “But where would you go? I thought you would stay close to your family. You know, so they can help with Bay.”

 

I did the frowning that time. “See, this is why this is wrong on so many levels. You don’t know me any more than I know you. My family lives in Michigan. Not Nashville. I came here right after high school.

 

“But I met your sister.”

 

“Bridgett, yes. She just so happened to be visiting that weekend. She doesn’t live here. She’s a social worker back home. Not here.”

 

I could almost see the air being exhaled as Kit’s eyebrows sank with both her shoulders. She looked back at Bay, dumping raisins onto the bed, and back to me. “This changes things.”

 

“It does?” I questioned, wheels spinning like crazy in my head while I tried to contain the excitement.

 

“Yeah, I mean I was already having an issue with how immature you are, but moving her from place to place with no family. Yeah, I don’t know.”

 

Normally the immature remark would have pissed me off, but honestly, it was sort of true. Although in my defense, I had nothing to be mature about. It sounds selfish now, but at the time, I didn’t really think about Bay being my responsibility. My duty to my daughter consisted of six hundred dollars set up to automatically deposit into Kit’s bank account on the first day of every month. At least, I wouldn’t have to send that anymore. Surely a baby didn’t cost that much.

 

“I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’m not going to move her from place to place. Why do you think I need to know how much time I have until you fly halfway across the world?”

 

“You have no idea how much I want this, Brantley. It took me months to ask you. I wouldn’t even consider it if it wasn’t you.”

 

I didn’t understand that at all. “Why? I’ve never even been in her life.”

 

“Because nobody but you will love her like I do.”

 

I didn’t touch that one either. How could she say that, knowing we didn’t even know each other? “When do you leave?”

 

“Six weeks,” Kit replied in a faraway tone. Her head turned back to Bay and a smile took over her entire face.

 

That didn’t give me much time, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t asked six months before. That’s just how long it took for her to talk me into it, begging and pleading until I finally caved. And I still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced. My eyes moved past Kit to Bay, throwing both hands into the air, calling out some incoherent chant, raisins scattered all around her. “I’ve never changed a diaper.”

 

“She’s doing great on the potty. If you’re lucky, I can have her out of diapers before you get her. There is one thing, Brantley.”

 

“Here it comes. What?”

 

“I want her back. You have to sign something promising to give her back. You can see her and get her on weekends, but you can’t keep her. I’m getting her back.”

 

That wouldn’t be a problem. “Sure, whatever. I’ll call you in a few days.”

 

“Thank you so much, Brantley.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. See ya.”

 

I closed my laptop, seeing my guitar case propped in the corner. My sad guitar. The one that I would retire for an eighteen-month-old. What the hell was I doing?

 

 

 

 

Jettie Woodruff is a lifelong writer, living in a pretend world since she was a little girl. Jettie spent hours filling pages of spiral notebooks with a number two pencil and a wild imagination. Her very first story was a scifi of all things.go ah

Jettie writes more along the lines of erotica now. She likes to keep her readers on edge, and deliver a story that will pull out every emotion possible. Writing on the edge of taboo and dark, Jettie hopes to distribute an adventure you'll not soon forget.

 

Married for twenty five years, raising two boys and one girl has left lots of writing material. She has recently become a grandma to not one, but two of the most beautiful little girls on planet earth.

 

Jettie also hates doing this bio. That's all you get. She loves to read and write. What else is there? <3

 

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Title: Porn Star 

Author: Laurelin Paige & Sierra Simone
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Sarah Eirew 

Release Date: March 8, 2016

Blurb

You know me.

Come on, you know you do.

Maybe you pretend you don’t. Maybe you clear your browser history religiously. Maybe you pretend to be aghast whenever someone even mentions the word porn in your presence.

But the truth is that you do know me.

Everybody knows Logan O’Toole, world famous porn star.

Except then Devi Dare pops into my world, and pretty soon I’m doing things that aren’t like me—like texting her with flirty banter and creating an entire web porn series just so I can get to star in her bed. Again. And again.

With Devi, my entire universe shifts, and the more time I spend with her, the more I realize that Logan O’Toole isn’t the guy I thought he was.

So maybe I'm not the guy you thought I was either.

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Meet Logan O’Toole

Laurelin Paige

Laurelin Paige is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters.

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Sierra Simone

Sierra Simone is a USA Today Bestselling former librarian (who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk.) She lives with her husband and family in Kansas City.

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Ink & Lies

by S.L. Jennings

Release Day: February 9th, 2016

 

Synopsis

From International Best Selling Romance Novelist, Hope Hughes, comes a gripping, heartfelt tale of two lovers, fighting for the freedom to… No. Scratch that. Too cheesy.   …two people, torn apart by the tumultuous tides of life, only to discover refuge in… WTF? What does that even mean? DELETE.   …two people, confused as shit as to where they should be and who they should love and none of this means a damn thing because it’s all lies! Lies. I’m not Hope Hughes. I’m not some fierce woman romance machine. Hell, I’m not even a woman. I’m a liar. And while I refuse to believe my own BS, deceit masked in heartfelt phrases of love and devotion, I want to make her believe them. Because maybe—just maybe—if she can find the soul within my words, she’ll also be able to find the truth scribbled on my heart. You see, I once lived for the perfect plot twist. I just never expected to actually live it. This is my story. Well, maybe her story. I just wish I could make it our story. The one I’m still writing.  

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Signed paperback of INK & LIES by S.L. Jennings

 

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About the Author

Most known for her starring role in a popular sitcom as a child, S.L. Jennings went on to earn her law degree from Harvard at the young age of 16. While studying for the bar exam and recording her debut hit album, she also won the Nobel Prize for her groundbreaking invention of calorie-free wine. When she isn’t conquering the seas in her yacht or flying her Gulfstream, she likes to spin elaborate webs of lies and has even documented a few of these said falsehoods.

Some of S.L.’s devious lies:

INK & LIES- Coming Soon

TAINT (a Sexual Education novel)

TRYST (a Sexual Education novel)

FEAR OF FALLING (a Fearless novel)

AFRAID TO FLY (a Fearless novel)

THE DARK LIGHT SERIES

・Dark Light

・The Dark Prince

・Nikolai (a Dark Light novella)

・Light Shadows

 

Meet the Liar

Facebook Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorsljennings

Facebook Fan Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/JonesinForJennings/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MrsSLJ

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/s.l.jennings

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6572969.S_L_Jennings

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/S.L.-Jennings/e/B009YPO1WU/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1452042688&sr=8-2-ent

Slip Of The Tounge by Jessica Hawkins Chapter 1 Excerpt

SLIP

OF

THE

TONGUE

JESSICA

HAWKINS

CHAPTER ONE

The man who just stepped out of 6A doesn’t notice me staring. He shakes out his honeyed-brown hair like a boy after a bath and wipes his temple with his sleeve. He rolls his neck. Watching him, I feel like an intruder in my own apartment building.

It’s the jingle of Ginger’s dog tags that makes him look over. He tilts his head, studying me. “Hello again.”

I squint. The sixth floor has never been well lit. Warm light bathes the beige walls and a carpet the color of dead leaves. I let Ginger pull me down and across the hall. She wants to smell this new person, and I want a better look. When we make eye contact, my heartbeat snags as it might for a new lover. Because he isn’t familiar. I don’t know him. “Sorry, have we met?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond, as if he’s waiting for me to go on, but it’s a pretty straightforward question. I’m not sure where to look—his soulful green eyes, or a bottom lip that sticks out like his default expression is a pout. He licks it with an easy smile and once again, I’m staring. “I must’ve mistaken you for another neighbor,” he says. “Just moved in yesterday. You’re 6B?” He points to his chest. “6A.”

I stick my coffee thermos under my arm and shake his paw of a hand. He ruffles Ginger’s polished-penny red fur next, but watches me. And I forget that just moments ago, I was sad. Lonely. Confused. Now, I’m still a little confused, but not in the way that makes my brain and chest hurt.

 “Welcome to the building.” Since I’m already behind schedule thanks to this unplanned dog walk, I tug the leash. “Let’s go, Ginger.”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he says as I continue to the elevator, “can you point me in the direction of a good breakfast spot? Something hearty.”

I glance back. His back is arched, his large hand spread over his stomach. The corner of his mouth is quirked. He’s kind of a hunk, and I think he knows it. I contain my smile, even when I realize it’s my first genuine one in days. “There’s a diner on the corner.” I begin to sweat, my hands in my gloves, my neck under my scarf. I hadn’t planned to be indoors this long. His expression is eager, though, like he’s asking an old friend for help. “Don’t be scared off by the smell. It’s good.”

“Which corner?”

“Lexington.” Ginger whines. I shouldn’t even be standing here. I’m verging on late for work. Suddenly, though, that seems less important than welcoming a new neighbor. “We’re headed downstairs. I’ll show you.”

“That’d be great.” He heads past me down the hall to get to the elevator first, where he pushes the button. Ginger and I catch up as it arrives, and he holds the door open for us. The space feels small with him in it. He’s big, one of those guys who could jump and knock his head on the ceiling of the subway. One of those guys who can make the whole city feel small.

He glances up at the digital numbers, his hands stuck in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Won’t you be cold?” I ask, eyeing the thin material.

“Nah. My heater’s busted. It won’t turn off. It has to be over eighty degrees in my apartment.”

I had the opposite problem when I moved in. It shouldn’t make me smile to remember that, but trying to stay warm can be fun when it involves a ridiculous amount of cozy blankets and endless, stovetop hot chocolate.

“I can deal with the cold,” he continues, then groans, “the heat, though—Jesus. I could not sleep. I’ve been up for hours, moving boxes around the apartment. Finally, I had to come out for fresh air. You can only remove so much clothing, you know?”

Heat creeps up my chest. I scold myself. So what if he’s naked in his own apartment? I try to think of a witty response to cover the fact that I’m blushing, but I come up short. I sip my coffee instead. We exit the elevator with his last comment hanging between us.

“So, these are the mailboxes,” I say with flourish, breaking the silence, as we cross the small lobby. “Yours is next to mine.”

He smiles politely and gets the door. We’re blasted by cold air. I try to pull my collar up around my neck, but my hands are full.

“Need some help?” he offers.

I give him Ginger’s leash and my thermos so I can bundle deeper into my coat. “The diner’s to the right,” I tell him. “I’m going that way too.”

He gives me back the coffee but takes Ginger down the sidewalk as if she were his own.

Despite the cold, the sun is shining. I get a better look at him. He has a five o’clock, butter-blond shadow at seven o’clock in the morning. It’s a shade lighter than his coppery lips and shows off his high cheekbones. His is the kind of face you’d see in a movie. One I might’ve gone to as a teenager just because he was on the poster.

“Shit,” he states.

Because I’m paying attention to him and not where I’m going, it takes me a moment to understand. Literally—shit. I hop sideways just in time, narrowly avoiding a pile of dog poop. “Ugh.”

He grins. “Mondays.”

“Lazy assholes is more like it.”

“Spoken like a true city girl.” He smiles bigger. “Have you lived in the building long?”

“Four years yesterday.” We stop so Ginger can pee on her usual tree. “But I went to NYU. I’ve lived on the east side for over ten years.”

“So you hate it here.”

I laugh, and God, does it feel good. My dry cheeks crack like they’re made of concrete and I’ve hit them with a hammer. We continue walking, Ginger looking back at us every few seconds, as if we might disappear on her. My mood has lifted. Sometimes, in this city, talking to strangers is a burden. They want something—directions, money, time. I’m glad I stopped for my new neighbor, though. He’s chasing off the dark clouds that’ve been hanging around lately.

But then, he stops abruptly and groans. I get the sudden, intense feeling this walk is over. “I left my wallet in the apartment. Think they’ll let me open a tab?”

“Not a chance.” We’re a few feet from the crosswalk, and I nod across the street. “There’s the diner.”

“Okay.” He wipes his nose on his sleeve. Mine is also running a little despite the fact that the walk has warmed me up. I don’t believe he isn’t the slightest bit cold. “I better run back. I’m about to eat my hand.”

I don’t have to think twice. He’s helped me out just by making me feel better, and I want to return the favor. “I’ll spot you,” I say, digging in my pocket for cash. I keep forty bucks in my coat in case of dog-walking emergencies. Since I can hear his stomach grumbling from here, I give him both twenties. “Get the hash browns. Trust me.”

He takes the money. “You’re an angel. I’ll pay you back.”

“No problem.” I nod at Ginger, who pants, giving us her signature Golden-Retriever smile. “Consider it a thanks for your services.”

“For a ten-minute walk? Expensive pooch.” He hands me back the leash, then adds, “Unless you want to join me? My treat,” he teases.

I’m surprised by his invitation but even more so that I’m disappointed to turn it down. Hash browns and good company sound like a great way to spend the morning. “I should get to work,” I say with some reluctance. “Not everyone can make rent walking dogs.”

“Good point.” He grins. The walk signal begins to count down. Last chance to change my mind and play hooky from work. He holds up the money. “Thanks again.”

He jogs across the street toward the restaurant. I wonder what his name is. And why he isn’t also on his way to work on a Monday morning.

Except for him, the view from this corner is familiar. I’ve stood here more times than I can count. Ginger pulls on her leash. She knows this is where we turn back for the apartment. The sun is still out, but clouds edge the city. Alone again, any humor in my morning dissipates. My mood creeps back down to where it was earlier—where it’s been for months.

Title: The Perfect Life
Author: Erin Noelle
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 18

I had the perfect life.

The perfect husband. Colin Cassidy—the incredibly talented, extremely gorgeous, and unbelievably humble star NFL quarterback.

The perfect marriage. Our bond was unbreakable. His support unwavering.

The perfect career. As the recently-appointed executive director for the Boston chapter of Mending Hearts, a child abuse prevention and treatment program, my daily reward was helping to keep vulnerable, innocent children from being preyed upon and destroyed. It’s all I’d wanted to do since I was a teenager.

Perfect city. Perfect car. Perfect house with the perfect view.

From the outside looking in, it was impossible to find a single flaw in my life. I had it all. Everything I’d ever wanted.

But that kind of perfection came at a price. Demanded the ultimate sacrifice.

What happened when I discovered what I’d been missing all along? When I began to question if the lies were worth protecting?

What if suddenly the last thing I wanted was to be perfect?

Available on Amazon and FREE in KU

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I SMELLED HER before I saw her. I know . . . fucking weird. But as soon as she stepped into the foyer of the restaurant, where Allison and I were waiting for our table, I was aware of her presence, even though I couldn’t see her. She had on the same perfume she’d worn the night before at the gala. Orange blossom with a hint of vanilla. A scent that reminded me of the orange cream sodas my three sisters and I used to get when we were kids at Casey’s General Store, the place our parents would pick up pizza every Friday night. As I got older and started partying in high school, my friends and I learned those same drinks were the perfect mixers for cheap vodka, and many of our weekend nights were spent sitting around a campfire on someone’s land, sipping on that sweet, fruity concoction that somehow never caused a hangover. Back when life seemed easy and all I was interested in was having a little innocent fun. Back before everything changed.

“Monroe!” Allison’s face lit up next to me when she spotted her friend, our colleague, welcoming her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it. Oliver and I just got here.”

Still reeling from the primal reaction that Monroe’s scent alone had on me, I was thankful the two women acted like they hadn’t just seen each other the previous evening, fawning over each other’s hairstyles and outfits for several moments. It gave me a few extra seconds to get my shit together and process the fact Monroe was apparently joining us for lunch, a detail I was sure Allison had not-so-accidentally failed to mention. The foyer of the restaurant suddenly heated up, rising to temperatures that rivaled the fiery pits of Hell. The sinfully sensual fantasies I’d had about the married woman standing only a few feet away from me while I’d jacked off in the shower that morning flooded through my mind once again. Had I known I’d be sharing a meal with her mere hours later, forced to hold a conversation and not think about how I’d envisioned her naked body looking and feeling underneath mine, I’d have definitely held out until I was safely back home in Chicago the next day, nearly a thousand miles away and with no chance of a humiliating run-in.

“Hey, Oliver. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you again,” she greeted me cheerfully, though it was apparent that Allison had also neglected to inform her that our lunch would be a party of three. “And thank you again for coming last night. Having you, Jeff, and Tracie there for support meant so much to me.”

The same lyrical voice I’d pretended was moaning my name in sweet release prompted my pulse to spike along with my internal thermostat. As I pivoted around to offer a polite smile and handshake, I inconspicuously tried to rub my sweaty palms on the dark denim of my jeans while also ensuring the growing bulge in my pants was hidden behind my fly. Thank God, it was. Lifting my gaze to meet hers, the instant our eyes locked, I sucked in a deep breath and completely lost my train of thought. I froze mid-movement, my arm embarrassingly stuck reaching out between the two of us in no man’s land. Every drop of moisture that was in my mouth evaporated, and then somehow multiplied exponentially and reappeared seconds later in my armpits. Much like it had done the first time I met her.

Never in my life had a woman ever had that kind of effect on me, and after I’d shamefully indulged myself in the shower, leaving me feeling dirtier than it did clean, I’d spent several minutes staring in the mirror, berating my reflection for my inexcusable actions before convincing myself that I’d imagined Monroe to be more beautiful than she really was. I blamed the soft lighting of the ballroom, along with the classical music and bold city skyline for creating an atmosphere straight from the final scene of a romantic comedy. Her tight, low cut, sparkly blue dress was like a beacon in a sea of standard black, and with her smoky eyes and the way her hair was up, revealing that long, creamy neck, I didn’t have a chance. I mean, even I had looked pretty debonair in my designer tux with my long hair tamed into a low knot and my facial hair neatly-trimmed, and I was often mistaken for being homeless in Chicago.Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad.

I came up with all kinds of excuses for why she’d affected me the way she did, and had I not seen her again afterward, I might’ve gone on believing she wasn’t nearly as impressive as I’d first made her out to be in my mind. But as I stood there in front of her, for the second time in as many days, in my slack-jawed, semi-aroused motionless state, I knew I’d been wrong. In her modest turquoise blouse, linen capris, and tan wedges, Monroe had left her hair down, allowing the wavy, golden locks to cascade around her shoulders and frame her fresh, youthful face, somehow appearing even more beautiful than I remembered. How that was possible, I hadn’t a clue, but there she was. The most exquisite sight I’d ever seen.

Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History at the University of Houston, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child.

A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.

Her titles published include the Book Boyfriend Series, the Dusk ‘Til Dawn Series, the Luminous Duet, Conspire — co-authored with SE Hall, Surviving Us, MILF: Wrong Kind of Love, Spark and Flame.

Her books have been a part of the USA Today Bestselling list and the Amazon and Barnes & Noble overall Top 100.

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