Excerpt Reveal:: Just One Touch by CA Harms

JUST ONE TOUCH by CA Harms is available for pre-order!

AMAZON US | AMAZON INTERNATIONAL

Oh' Tequila #3 Series / NA Contemporary Romance 

Releasing June 19th from Limitless Publishing

I should have known this would happen...

Nothing about my Fraternity was ever simple. Parties, tequila – tons of tequila – and wild souvenirs from our kind of crazy.

Never, and I do mean never, did I expect my brother’s girl to target me in a midnight prank. A prank that backfired and left me squealing in pain.

Have you ever seen those shows, the ones that say the “dirty deed” sent you to the ER? Well, I went to the ER and yes, my manhood was involved. Let me just say, I gained absolutely no pleasure from it. Unless, of course, you consider that sweet nurse who treated me.

The problem? She hated me...and I had no idea why, but I wasn’t willing to let her walk away until I figured it out.

Emelie was feisty and I’d never felt the type of excitement I did after spending only five seconds in her line of fire. I was gonna enjoy this...way more than I should, and I knew it.

She saw, she conquered, and I was defeated. 

All it took was just one touch and oh, what a ride it was.

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EXCERPT REVEAL

“Why are you pretending to dislike me so much, Em?” 

“My name is Emelie,” I corrected him, “and I’m not pretending. I do dislike you, so if you’d just be quiet long enough so that I can complete my job, I could get out of here. Believe me, I would rather be any place but here.” 

I could feel his eyes on me, staring at me as his breath fanned out over my cheek. In my mind I was mentally going over my notes from lab today in preparation for tomorrow’s quiz. The last thing I wanted or needed was for him to get any type of reaction from me. He’d find it as a form of interest, and I was anything but interested. 

“I think you’re lying, Emelie.” I closed my eyes involuntarily as my name rolled off his tongue. Chills covered my arms and neck as I mentally lectured myself. “I think you do like me, but for some reason you think you have to hide that fact. I don’t bite, Em, unless you’re into that kinda thing. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to you.” 

I opened my eyes, ripped the cuff from his arm, and turned to place it back on the cart. My hands were shaking and my legs felt weak. With one calming breath I turned back to face him, stepping in close. His eyes roamed over me, pausing at my breasts. Pig. 

“You disgust me,” I told him and his grin widened. “You walk around like you are some kind of god, but you aren’t even close. You’re an ass, Clayton, a complete and total douchebag. I have no interest in you. In fact, I rather enjoy our normal activities where we choose to pretend the other doesn’t exist.” 

“That’s where you are wrong.” I had to admit he was good. He didn’t even flinch at my words and his grin didn’t falter. “I’ve noticed you,” he confessed, “from day one, as you hurried to your seat before the bell rang. I still remember what you were wearing and how well you were wearing it.” 

I swallowed hard, trying my best to come up with some rebuttal, a sly comment that would knock him back down off his high horse. But I had nothing. 

“Pink sweater, hanging off one shoulder. The tightest pair of dark jeans, and these cute little black boots.” My head felt as if it was literally spinning. “Your hair up, much like it is now.” When he reached out to touch my hair I flinched and stepped back. 

Then it dawned on me that we were not alone. I straightened my smock as if it was wrinkled. I just needed something to focus on other than his piercing green eyes. 

MEET THE AUTHOR:

C.A. Harms is an avid romance and mystery reader. She's always had a love for books, getting lost in writing and storytelling even as a young girl. She enjoys happy endings and HEA love stories. 

She lives in Illinois and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children. She holds an addiction for Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha’s and KitKat when she should really be focusing on water and maybe a fruit or two to make herself feel less guilty, but that feeling quickly passes...thankfully. 

She is easy going, fun, and although she may seem like one of the quiet ones at first, you just wait until she gets to know you better...that quietness changes, fast.

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Excerpt Reveal:: The Other Brother by Meghan Quinn

Check out this amazing excerpt for THE OTHER BROTHER by Meghan Quinn!

THE OTHER BROTHER

NA Romantic Comedy

Model: David Harris

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2yievF5

PREORDER HERE:

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I got the call. The dreaded call every child fears. My dad wasn’t well, and the man who had always been my everything needed me.

There was only one thing to do; pack up and head back to my hometown. I had finally made my dream life in the city with the great job and loving boyfriend. But was there really a choice not to go?

I found a wonderful job, a quaint house to rent, my boyfriend was working on joining me in Binghamton, and my favorite pizza place was only miles away. Life was good.

Until I met my neighbor.

It's been three years since I'd seen Aaron Walters, and my God is he all kinds of sexy gorgeous. Figures. He was supposed to be my forever, the man I grew old with, but he had different plans. How can a man who ripped my heart apart still trip me up? How can he make me still want him now more than ever?

I’m tempted, I’m drawn toward him, I’m completely and utterly unaware that I’m dating his biological brother.

Now two men own my heart. The question is, which brother will I choose?

EXCERPT:

Right on time, I’m impressed.

She doesn’t get out of her car right away, so I give her a second but then realize maybe she’s not exiting the vehicle because I have the key to the house and she has nowhere to go.

Wanting to make a good impression and seem approachable since I’m the property manager, I run my hand through my hair and adjust my jeans. I’m not wearing any fancy shit, but at least I don’t have holes in or paint stains on my clothes. I hop off my front porch and make my way toward her car, slowly, not wanting to scare her.

There is muffling coming from her car, voices I can’t quite hear, but I get the idea she’s finishing up a conversation, so I slow my pace drastically. That’s when I see her tilt her head down and look at me. From the reflection of the light off her windows, I can’t make out her features. I can only see a silhouette.

I lift a friendly hand in her direction to let her know I come in peace and make my way to her driveway. There is no wave back, but I do hear the telltale sound of her opening her car door. She steps out and when I round the vehicle, I catch the sun off her driver’s side window, temporarily blinding me.

Blinking my eyes a few times to calm my retinas, I bring her into focus.

“Aaron . . .”

Every hair on my body sticks straight up and my body goes still from that voice, that unmistakably sultry voice.

When she finally comes into view, I am met with a pair of hazel eyes I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the day she left town for bigger and better things.

“Amelia.” I clear my throat and take a step forward. “Wow, I uh . . .” Tongue-tied, that’s exactly what I am right now. “Didn’t expect to see you get out of that car.” I laugh nervously while I pull on the back of my neck, trying to comprehend what’s going on. I point with my thumb toward the house and ask, “You’re the new tenant?”

She nods and looks me over, taking her time with her perusal, her eyes burning a hole right through my clothes like they used to. When her eyes meet mine again, she asks, “You’re the property manager?”

I nod and swallow hard. “And neighbor.”

She presses her lips together, thinning them out. “What are the chances?” She laughs nervously.

“Yeah, especially since I thought your life was in the city.” I didn’t mean for that to come out rude, but it did. Gentling my voice, I ask, “What brings you back home?”

Staring at the ground, clutching her purse to her side, she says, “My dad. He’s, uh, not doing well.” Duh, Mrs. Ferguson mentioned something like that. I’m so damn overwhelmed and shocked right now though, that entire conversation I had with Mrs. Ferguson is not registering in my mind.

“Oh no.” My brow pinches together in concern. “What happened?”

She waves me off. “Nothing you need to worry about.” And just like that she shuts me down. Honestly, I’m surprised she said that much to me after how we ended things between us.

Yes, there was an us, a perfectly beautiful, love-filled us. Amelia Santos was the best thing to ever happen to me, and yet, she was also the worst. During a time where my heart broke from every uncaring glance from my mom, Amelia resurrected me from the ashes I would have otherwise drowned in. She was my rock, the one solid feature in my life.

She was also my downfall.

She was going places, and I wasn’t. She had opportunity, and I had none. She wanted me to move with her, and I couldn’t, but no way in hell would I hold her back. I barely made it out of my mom’s house. There were many days when I tried hard to earn a buck so I could find a place to live other than the homeless shelter where I spent many lonely nights. Amelia deserved better than that, so I pushed her away to achieve her dreams. Little did I know, breaking up with her would send me in the biggest downward spiral of my life. The only reason I’m the man I am today is because after hitting rock bottom, I knew things needed to change, and it was up to me to make something of myself. So I worked my ass off. And now at thirty, I can say proudly that I’m a co-owner of an up-and-coming construction company as well as the proud owner of a house in the heart of Hillcrest, a beautiful two-story house. I’m doing well for myself . . . at least that’s what I thought until Amelia stepped out of her car.

Now I’m questioning every little thing about my life leading to this point.

About the Author:

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if "It's Raining Men" starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing... enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Like me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/meghanquinnauthor

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Excerpt:: Sacked in Seattle by Jami Daveport

Are you ready to be SACKED? Sacked in Seattle is an emotional romance that is about more than just sports! Keep reading for an excerpt Release Date: August 24th

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 He's loved Tiff since high school--but tragedy has blockaded her heart. Tyee University football player Riley Black has adored Tiff since high school, but she's never felt the same way. As Riley enters his senior year of college, he's finally moving on and enjoying the perks of being a star athlete. Until one glimpse of Tiff unearths all those old feelings of longing and desire, not to mention the trauma of their shared past. Tiffani Vernon has been running from her demons for seven years. When she's forced to return to Seattle for financial reasons and attend the same college as Riley, she's confronted with the traumatic event which has shaped her future and scarred her memories of Riley. Tiff struggles to avoid her secret high school crush, but he's not having any of it. He's pursuing her with a relentless determination to prove once and for all, they were meant to be together. Can love finally heal their wounds or will they succumb to the pain and forever wonder what could have been?

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1—Running * Riley * Life-changing moments can be as obvious as a guy holding a gun to your forehead or as subtle as glimpsing a face in a crowd. That gun and that face haunted my nights and often my days. I hadn’t laid eyes on Tiffani Vernon since the night of our high school graduation over three years ago. She couldn’t leave Seattle fast enough, while I’d never considered going anywhere else. Seattle was the only real home I’d ever known, and I wanted to stay here and make things better. Face my fears head on. You know, crap like that. Tiff ran from her fears, and our last night together had been epic, unforgettable, and scary as shit. She sped out of town and never looked back—especially not at me. I knew why. It wasn’t personal, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I reminded her of that horrible, awful day when our lives hung in the balance, the world shifted in a matter of minutes, and nothing would ever be the same again. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Except move on. And I had. Or I thought I had, until I saw her standing across that proverbial crowded room. Our eyes met. Her brown ones to my blue ones. Recognition flashed in her eyes, then panic. Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something. Her expression went soft with regret. Shaking her head, she turned and ran, weaving through the crowd faster than a running back angling for the end zone. Her little pink skirt swished back and forth, calling attention to her fine ass and shapely legs. She was so smoking hot, heads swiveled as she passed. Pain stabbed deep in my gut. Memories flooded back and slammed me to the turf, leaving me stuck to the beer-soaked floor. Graduation night. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as she gave herself to me, body and soul. I lost myself inside her, certain we’d be together forever. She left town the next morning, and I never saw her again. Squelching that memory, I stood alone in a crowd of people, hearing nothing, sensing nothing, seeing nothing but the place where she’d stood a second ago. People elbowed me in their haste to get to the keg of beer I was blocking. I shook my head, attempting to clear it. She couldn’t be here. She should be at USC starting her senior year, just as I was starting mine at the Ty, what us locals call Tyee University on Lake Union in Seattle. She’d traded the rain and mud for sun and sand, and she’d traded me for surfer dudes and Hollywood wannabes. But now she was back. My feet refused to follow my orders. All I could do was gape open-mouthed like some creep with a stalker crush. There’d been other times I’d sworn I’d seen her, only to race after her and embarrass the hell out of myself when I found out the poor girl I’d dogged wasn’t Tiffani. But we’d locked gazes this time, and there wasn’t any doubt in my mind. She was here. I tried to swallow, clear my throat, gulp in some oxygen. I swear my organs were either shutting down or going into overload. My heart slammed in my chest as if building to detonation, and my head pounded to the beat of the music in the room. Oblivious to my disinterest, the blonde who’d been hustling me all night leaned in closer and gripped my arm. She slipped her tongue in my ear while her hand migrated to my crotch. I gave her a gentle shove, not giving one shit how rude my behavior was, even though I usually prided myself on being a nice guy. “Later,” I told her and pushed through the throng of frat-house party-goers. Almost frantic, I shoved my way to where I’d last seen her and caught a flash of blonde hair as she slipped out the door. I dashed after her down the sidewalk into the street and glanced left and right. She was gone, vanished into thin air as if she’d never existed. I waited five, then ten minutes, she never reappeared. With a sigh, I trudged back to the party, ignoring the curious stares of the guys. I sank onto the couch in the living room, next to a couple of teammates, and faked interest in a football game on TV. My heart thudded wildly, and my hand shook as I lifted a pizza slice to my lips. My eyes met the concerned blue gaze of my best friend, Gage Harmon, the team quarterback, campus man slut, and proud of both titles. He was chewing slowly and staring at me as if he expected me to strip naked and dance on the table while stone-cold sober. “You okay, Ry man?” “Yeah, fine. Thought I saw someone. I was wrong.” One brow crept upward, disappearing under his messy blond hair. “Female?” I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze on the off-chance he’d see the pathetic truth and peg me for the idiot I was. What kind of loser pines after a girl this long when he has the world at his feet? This loser. Tiff was the only girl I’d ever truly loved. And I’d never stopped loving her, as fucked up as that was. * Tiff * Running into Riley Black was inevitable. The Tyee campus was big, but obviously not big enough. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him during my first week of classes. I’d carefully avoided the areas where he might be hanging out, such as Greek Row, and opted for an off-campus apartment. I planned my classes to avoid being near the football field and gym in the afternoons when he’d most likely be practicing. I timed everything with careful attention to detail and avoidance. Lot of good that did me. Coming to this party had been a lapse in judgment. I should’ve known he’d be here. Maybe I secretly hoped to run into him, just to torture myself. Maybe I was all kinds of screwed up. Okay, well, that’s stating the obvious. Ask my family. Ask my counselor. Ask my horse. They’d all agree. I, Tiffani Grace Vernon, was one fucked-up girl, and years of therapy had barely put a dent in my tormented past. Through no fault of his own, Riley brought back every traumatic memory of that fateful day when my charmed life became a living nightmare. He was a victim as much as I was. Now, here we were. At the same frat party. I shouldn’t have come. Our eyes met, and recognition instantly lit up his gaze. Those same cobalt blue eyes had studied me intently from across the room in our high school biology class. They’d watched me ride my horse in endless circles at the arena near his aunt’s house. Those same eyes had opened wide in horror as my ex-boyfriend, also his teammate, pointed a gun at each of us, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The loud bang had deafened me, and the smell of iron had filled my nostrils, followed by the wrenching pain of being slammed to the ground. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Seeing him brought it all back as if it had happened six minutes ago instead of almost seven years. Maybe seeing me did the same for him, too? He’d gaped at me like he’d seen a ghost. Momentarily frozen in shock, his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Not that I would have heard him over the sea of drunken partygoers and the roar in my ears. My brain clawed at the last shred of sanity as wave after wave of dizziness sucked me deeper into a swirling abyss of darkness. My lungs begged for oxygen until I had to be blue in the face. My legs wobbled, and I stuck out a hand to steady myself. Swaying like a drunken sailor, I accidentally buried my fingers in some sorority girl’s cleavage. She raised her hand to take a swing at me but was too wasted to come close. “You stupid, perverted bitch.” Whatever. She was the least of my worries. The music was so loud, no one paid attention to us. I wasn’t a fighter, and the time had come to get my ass out of here, not so much to run from her—I could handle her—but to get away from him and the demons nipping at my heels I abandoned my beer on a windowsill and shoved my way through the crowd, desperate to exit as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley dodging people in the crowd with deft footwork that would do any running back proud. Only he wasn’t a running back. He was a tight end. The starting tight end for Tyee University. A big man on campus with an NHL star uncle. And I was— Nobody. And I planned on keeping it that way. I didn’t have any interest in being in the spotlight or even in a flashlight. It’d been a mistake to enroll here, but I hadn’t had a choice. My parents’ divorce had been costly, leaving no money for out-of-state tuition. So here was I was. Back in the area I both loved and despised among the best of memories drowned out by the worst of tragedies with the one person who played a part in both. I ran out the door and down the front steps, knowing he was only seconds behind. Glancing around desperately, I dived into some bushes in front of the apartment building next to the frat house and huddled in the darkness. I waited what seemed like hours. Finally, I peeked through the branches of the bush. Riley stood there, several feet away, gazing down the street with such profound sadness, you’d think he’d lost his best friend. His big hands hung loosely at his sides. He still had that one lock of dark hard that refused to stay in place. He looked the same, but different. A familiar face, yet a stranger. Shaking his head, Riley trudged back inside, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging. I almost ran after him—almost—but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t invite the one person back into my life who could destroy every bit of progress I’d made since high school. Even worse, I couldn’t drag him down with me. I waited long after he’d gone inside before creeping along the side of the building, and around the corner. I ran the several blocks home and collapsed on my bed. Only then did the wrenching sobs shake my body and wring every bit of emotion from my soul until nothing was left but bone-deep weariness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

USA Today Bestselling Author Jami Davenport writes sexy contemporary, sports, and new adult romances, including her two new indie endeavors: the Game On in Seattle series and the Men of Tyee series. Jami lives on a small farm near Puget Sound with her Green Beret-turned-plumber husband, a Newfoundland dog with a tennis-ball fetish, and a prince disguised as an orange tabby cat. She works in computer support in her day job and juggles too many balls, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

Connect with Jami! Subscribe to my newsletter to receive a free novel and be notified of new releases, special sales, and contests: http://eepurl.com/LpfaL
 Website Address: http://www.jamidavenport.com
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Excerpt Reveal:: Trouble by Avery Flynn

Trouble by Avery Flynn

Release Date: June 27th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Trouble, an all-new sexy standalone from Avery Flynn is coming June 27th!

                                               

Synopsis

A high school reunion is about to get down and dirty and a whole lot more complicated in this new romance from USA Today bestselling author Avery Flynn.

Brains and a badass attitude. That’s all troublemaker Leah Camacho took with her when she left Catfish Creek. She’d promised herself she’d never go back, but when the invite to her tenth high school reunion arrived along with the chance to show everyone who doubted her what a success she’s made of herself, she couldn’t resist. However, when she discovers a 15-carat, stolen diamond in her rental car’s glove box, there’s only one man she can turn to for help—the same sexy, stubborn domineering man who’d smashed her heart all those years ago.

Sheriff Drew Jackson knew a long time ago that Leah Camacho was nothing but trouble and has sworn to never get caught up in her again—no matter how damn sexy she is or how badly he’d failed to forget her. But, when the woman who test drove his heart right into a concrete wall rolls into Catfish Creek with some serious bad guys on her tail, it’s up to him to keep her safe—even if that means guarding her hot bod 24/7 without giving into temptation or losing his mind.

Excerpt

Spinning the wheel as he hit the brakes, he came to a stop behind the sports car at an angle that blocked it from reversing. Drew got out of his truck, keeping the open door between him and the other car and flicked open the leather strap on his hip holster that kept his sheriff's office-issued 9mm locked in place. "Get out of the vehicle," he hollered. The car's driver's side door opened wide. The first part of the driver to appear was one shapely leg wearing skin-tight denim punctuated with scuffed up black Doc Martens. Some sort of danger alarm sounded in Drew's head, but not the kind that warned of bullets or other bodily danger. A woman got out, facing away from him, her hands up and her dark hair a long silky curtain that led his attention straight down her back to the high curve of her ass poured into those jeans. Parts of him that had no place in police business sat up and noticed. Her ass was a testament to the reason why society required women to wear full dresses for so long—because men were weak, lust-addled idiots when it came to asses like the one that looked more than a little familiar to Drew. His gaze snapped back up as his internal alarm went from quiet buzz to all-out blare. He knew that ass, that hair, and those damn boots. "Turn around," he ordered. She did. Her lush mouth—one he knew far too well—was compressed into a tight line, her attention focused on something behind him. Leah Camacho was back and with her always came trouble—for him, for his sanity, and for the part of him that still thought of her at opportune moments in the shower. "Drew," she said, making his name sound like a curse and a promise. "Get on the other side of the door." Listening to Leah Camacho was the last thing he should be doing, but he did it anyway for reasons he didn't understand. Just as he rounded the door, an extended cab pickup truck turned the corner. The tires were big, the windows dark, and the speed was slow. As it puttered by, Drew looked it over and mentally confirmed it didn't belong to any of the usual suspects in Catfish Creek. Of course, the high school reunion was bringing in lots of folks who hadn't been here in a while. At the corner, the truck sped up, peeling away from the stop sign and taking a hard right back toward the highway. "Who was that?" he asked, the smell of burnt rubber drifting back toward them. "No fucking clue but they've been on my ass for the past hour," she said, reaching up and winding her long hair into a knot on the top of her head—the move emphasizing her amazing tits and making Drew's mouth go dry. "I didn't realize I'd be stopping on your turf." He bet not. After what happened last time they were together, she'd made avoiding him into an art form. However, the fact that he was the law in town, however temporarily, meant avoiding her was an impossibility because wherever Leah Camacho went, trouble was sure to follow. He glanced down at exhibit A. "What happened to your tire?" he asked. "No clue," she said, her voice tight with a lie. "I must have run over something." Drew squatted down and took a closer look at the tire. It didn't have a tear, it was just gone as if it had been a blow out. If Leah had run over something big enough to do that, she would have realized it. "What in the hell is going on, Leah?"

    

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About the Author:

Avery Flynn is an award winning, USA Today bestselling romance author. She has three slightly-wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She was a reader before she was a writer and hopes to always be both. She loves to write about smartass alpha heroes who are as good with a quip as they are with their *ahem* other God-given talents. Her heroines are feisty, fierce and fantastic. Brainy and brave, these ladies know how to stand on their own two feet and knock the bad guys off theirs.

Connect with Avery:

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Excerpt Reveal:: My Best Friend's Ex by Meghan Quinn

MY BEST FRIEND'S EX by Meghan Quinn is live! ONE-CLICK now!

MY BEST FRIEND'S EX
New Adult STANDALONE Romantic Comedy

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When I found an eviction notice taped on my apartment door, I had two options: find a comfortable cardboard box to call home, or move in with Tucker Jameson. 

Seeing that cardboard makes me feel itchy, I chose the latter. Which shouldn't be that big of a deal since Tucker is one of my good friends. And because he's still pining after his ex-girlfriend and I'm trying to finish my nursing degree, there is nothing to worry about in the romance department, making my last semester an easy one to conquer.

Boy, was I wrong. 

Rules are set, dinners are made, conversations are had, and a shirtless, swoony roommate walks around in nothing but a pair of black briefs, ruining me for every other man. 

Before I know it, I turn into a panting, lust-filled woman begging for Tucker to kiss me, touch me, and show me exactly what is hiding under those briefs. 

But with great orgasms, comes great consequences. 

Tucker might be my friend and roommate but he’s also my best friend's ex-boyfriend, making him completely off-limits. At least that's what my brain is telling me, my heart is speaking an entirely different language.

I step out into the chilly Saturday afternoon air and quickly zip up my jacket. The weather has been decent all week but the day I have to move, it’s scattered flurries and nipple-tightening cold.

Before I head to the back of the truck, I take in the sweet and quaint neighborhood. All the houses resemble the Cape Cod-style but different from one another in their own right. All very well kept making it seem like the perfect little place to live, a neighborhood I would never have pictured Tucker living in. Seems almost odd, like a family belongs here . . .

Oh my God.

A family.

My heart feels like it falls out of my chest as my brain starts connecting the dots. This house, this neighborhood, it’s meant for a family, a family Tucker planned on having, a family he lost. My breathing starts to pick up, my throat closing in, just as Tucker pops out of the side door, hands tucked in his pockets as he approaches, a small smile on his face.

“Need some help?”

I push back the tears that want to fall for my friend and nod, knowing words won’t form right now.

Tucker starts to walk past me to the back of the truck when he stops right in front of me and lifts my chin so I’m forced to make eye contact. Please don’t see my sorrow; please don’t see the pain I feel for your loss.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, way too perceptive for my liking.

“Uh, nothing. Just chilly.” I sniff.

He studies me, looking between my eyes, searching for answers. The intensity is almost too intense, it’s breaking my walls, disintegrating me under his light touch.

“Is everything okay over there?” Logan calls from behind the truck, pulling both our gazes toward him.

I shake Tucker off and nod as I head back to the truck to start unloading. “Just cold, that’s all.”

Not buying it, Logan whispers, “Did he fucking say something to you?”

“What?” I ask, surprised. “No, of course not. I just . . .” I lean forward and say, “I thought of something, I’ll tell you later.”

“Promise me.”

“Promise.”

Putting on a bright smile, even though it feels like there is a battle of emotions creating a war inside me, I start unloading, watching Tucker lift two boxes at a time, Logan following right behind him. Thankful for two strong men helping me, I lift a sitting chair my grandma gave me that I repurposed and follow them both into the house. We walk through the front where I’m greeted by a white fireplace off to the right, brilliantly beautiful oak wood floors, and a spacious living room that’s connected to a dining room by a sweet archway. The thick moldings and antique knobs give the house vintage character, making it more than charming. But with all its little bits and pieces of character, it’s lacking one big thing, furniture. There is absolutely no furniture in the house, nothing hung, not even a knickknack above the fireplace. Not that Tucker is a knickknack kind of guy, but a picture frame would have at least added some hominess to the space.

“Tucker, your house is so cute.”

“Thanks. Back here.” He leads us past the dining room that connects to the kitchen and a staircase leading to what I’m going to assume is the master bedroom, and off to the left, a small hallway. We veer off to the right and into a bedroom that is spacious, much more spacious than I was expecting. There are two large windows that span almost the length of the wall and the beautiful floors I can’t get over continue into the bedroom as well. The walls are a neutral grey, which is a nice calming tone, and the room right next to mine is a bathroom. The space couldn’t be more perfect.

“This is my room?” I take it all in. “Wow, I feel a little spoiled.”

Logan nods his head and it almost sounds like it pains him to say, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Tucker sets the boxes down and says, “Unfortunately, there is one bathroom so we will have to share, so I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not a problem at all. Just knock before you walk in.” I wink which brings a light smile to Tucker’s lips.

“Kitchen is around the corner, make yourself at home in there, pretty much everywhere.” He pulls on the back of his neck, his bicep flexing in the process and the strain in in his jaw concerns me. “Uh, I just ask one thing of you.”

“If you’re going to suggest walking around naked on Mondays and Wednesdays, I’m going to have to decline.” I joke but my humor barely reaches his eyes.

Instead of returning the humor, he says, “The room across from yours . . . it’s off limits. Please don’t go in there, don’t ask to go in there, don’t even ask me about it, just leave it alone.” He shifts in place, his eyes fixed on the floor beneath us. “Everything else in the house is yours to play around with, do whatever, set up yoga classes in the living room for all I care, please just don’t talk about the room across from yours, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod vigorously, wanting to convey to him he can trust me.

“Okay,” he repeats, letting out a pent-up breath. “Uh, I’ll go get some more boxes. You can start unpacking if you want so you don’t have to go out in the cold.”

He steps away, just as Logan calls out, “Right behind you.” When Tucker is out of earshot, he leans in and whispers, “What the fuck was that about? What’s in that room?”

I have a pretty damn good idea, but I’m not about to talk about it because the mere thought of what rests behind that door breaks my heart. And it’s abundantly clear it still breaks Tucker’s heart too. Oh God. Has he suffered through this alone?

“Nothing bad. I’m sure just something he doesn’t want to talk about right now. Go get some more boxes and stay away from my underwear.”

He scoffs. “You think so low of me, Emma. It burns my soul.” He holds his chest in mock hurt.

Rolling my eyes, I push him toward the door as he laughs and walks out to the truck to help Tucker, leaving me in my new space all to myself. Spinning around, I take it all in. Not a bad place at all to spend my last semester in college. I’m already half in love with the little house. Tucker chose so well. As much as I know Tucker and Sadie weren’t right for each other, seeing this very vivid manifestation of his commitment to Sadie, my heart breaks a little more. I didn’t grow up in a house like this, and just in the few moments, I feel myself growing attached. I can’t help wonder if it’s because of the powerful gesture behind it’s purchase though.

But that’s nothing I have to worry about now. I have a warm, lovely place to stay. The unease in my heart about living with Tucker starts to unravel as realization sets in, I have my own space for the next few months, a comfortable space with an old friend. An old friend I desperately want to reconnect with because even though I’m here to study, I also want to help Tucker, I want to know everything about him and learn about everything I missed out on this past year.

Release with Review:: Cheater by Rachel Van Dyken

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Blurb

Lucas Thorn wasn’t born a cheater. All it took was a single moment—say, a certain disastrous incident on the night before his wedding—and boom. Reputation destroyed forever and always. So now he owns it. He has a lady friend for every night of the week (except Sundays—God’s day and all), and his rules are simple: No commitments. No exceptions.

But a certain smart-mouthed, strawberry blonde vixen is about to blow that all to hell.

Avery Black has never forgiven Lucas for cheating on her sister. And suddenly being forced to work with him is pretty much a nightmare on steroids. Of course, it does afford her the opportunity to make his life as difficult as possible. But no good revenge scheme comes without payback. Because he didn’t become the Lucas Thorn without learning a few things about women.

Now Avery’s lust for vengeance has turned into, well, lust. And if Lucas stops cheating, it’s definitely not because he’s falling in love…

Excerpt

One night.

It was all I needed anyway, right? It’s not as if he was going to really commit to me, marry me, offer to impregnate me and father all our children.

“Are you sure about this, Avery?” He cupped my face with his rough hands. “You still have a choice. You can turn that cute ass around and march out that door—hell, you can even slam it on the way out. I’ll even let you keep the steak.”

“Are you offering me an out?”

He nodded.

“Do you offer that to every girl?”

Another nod.

“Do they ever take it?”

“Sometimes.”

“What do you want me to do?”

He paused. “You know, nobody has ever asked me that before.”

Probably because nobody cared about what else he had to offer besides what was dangling between his legs.

“I’m asking. Right now.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “What does Thorn want?”

“You didn’t full-name me.”

“It seems to make you even more arrogant, God forbid.”

His grin made me weak, so weak that I had to hold on to him for strength. Funny how things come full circle. How he’d always been my rock.

Dependable.

Loving.

And now?

He held all the power. Lucas Thorn . . . could destroy me.

“Stay.” He brushed a soft kiss across my lower lip. “I want you to stay.”

Review::
Lucas, Lucas, Lucas, how many times can you shake your head at this boy before he gets it right. A man that thinks if he is open with 6 women about sleeping with the others that he isn't cheating. A man that thinks that as long as he is honest about where he stands, none will get hurt or attached. Boy is he wrong. 

Avery knows Lucas well. He was after all her best friend when she was younger, set to marry her sister. They were close, he was her hero. She felt betrayed when it didn't work out with her sister. He left, never even saying goodbye. 

The banter between these two made the book. It was cute, normal, and reminded me a little of people I know. They kept each other on their toes and didn't let each other off the hook. They were honest which was refreshing until it came to their feelings. Why? Because real feelings always get in the way. 


As long as you can get past the whole he was going to marry her sister and is now with her plot, you will be good. I personally ignored it and moved to the story line. 

About the Author:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

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