It sounded like the stuff of romantic legends — that whole “their eyes locked across a crowded room” moment that turned into more.I didn’t believe it. . . . until it happened to me.Fine, the charming, clever, sexy-as-sin guy in the tailored suit was only trying to buy the same Snoopy lunchbox (as a gift!), but still, our eyes totally locked, and my lady parts definitely tingled as we vied for the prize.Naturally, I did what any badass business woman would do. Negotiated for the lunchbox, then found my what-if guy online and made plans to see him the next night. One night only — that was the deal we made. But one fantastic night had us both changing our minds in the morning. And making plans for another. Until I walked into the office to learn he just bought my company. And here’s the biggest rule of romantic legends — no matter what, don’t bang your boss. Especially if you’re already falling for him.
MY REVIEW by CEE CEE HOUSTON
What if… Logan was your guy??
The What If Guy by Lauren Blakely is hands down the best ‘feel-good’ story I have read this year. It tops all Lauren’s other great books and believe me, that’s saying a lot. I don’t think I have smiled so hard while reading for- well, -ever. I just couldn’t stop.
From the opening pages depicting Logan and Brynn’s meet-cute, to the last tender word, I was caught up in the spell of this tale of a sexy, single dad and the woman who captures his jaded heart.
From the first thumb brush where electricity flew, I knew this was going to be a fun read, but it was so much more. It was sweet, cute, and very, very real. Logan and Brynn are both divorced, the reasons for them being so are brought up and are strikingly similar, so much so, that I thought Lauren was going to take part of this story in a different direction. But, while their exes get a mention and a scene or two, there’s not much more than that. There is zero angst, which is a refreshing change.
The chemistry between Logan and Brynn was off the charts hot. Their banter was fun and flirty, some downright dirty, and the sexy times were indeed that and a whole lot more.
With Logan being Summer’s brother, and Oliver’s best friend, we got to revisit that previous couple from Dear Sexy Ex-Boyfriend. Logan’s lovely little girl was folded into the story with ease and the feline features own POV’s are sure to be a hit with cat-lovers.
So, if you’re searching for the best of the new releases this week, then in my humble opinion, this is it!!! One-Click your copy today and I bet you’ll agree.
About the Author
A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sweet, sexy and witty. She also writes red-hot, ultra-steamy romance for her Lauren Blakely After Dark line. She’d love to give you a free book today! Check out her web site to grab your free read: https://laurenblakely.com/one-free-book
And his mission is to put me in my place and send me packing.
But Cooper and I have a history filled with secrets.
And everyone knows that power doesn’t come from having money.
It comes from holding secrets.
And I’m holding one of his.
A very dark secret that can bring him to his knees.
Bully King is a new-adult, dark, bully romance from New York Times bestselling author JA Huss featuring boys with power and girls at their mercy. It’s a campus shrouded in lies and a summer rush into an elite society that can propel a poor girl straight into the ruling class.
You know those stories where the smart girl tutors the dumb jock? This isn’t it. BlairWhat’s the probability of insulting the one guy on campus I need to help me pass statistics? If I knew, I wouldn’t be standing in front of Wes Reynolds begging him to tutor me. Basketball player, sexy, arrogant, always sleeping through class… these are the things I knew about him. What I didn’t know is that he is a seriously smart jock. WesWhat’s the best way to get rid of the peppy and unrelenting girl that keeps asking me to tutor her? If I knew, I wouldn’t be staring at her tan legs and attempting to teach her statistics. Sorority girl, fine as f**k, determined, ball buster… these are the things I knew about her. What I didn’t know is that she is all the things I didn’t realize I wanted or needed. Or that one semester with her would change everything.
If you never learn anything else from me, Kleo Turner, know this: the world is always at its calmest before the storm. This is the truth I live by, an unfortunate realization that hit me when I turned twenty-four and discovered that the monsters beneath the bed don’t have claws or sharp teeth. They wear suits and have known you nearly your entire life. With my world shaken, I did what anyone would do: I ran. I always planned on coming home, returning to take over the troubled youth summer camp my family built from the ground up, but when I finally do, I end up face to face with Dean Lewis. An arrogant jerk and Turner Cove’s very own golden boy.And yes, I said Turner Cove. No, it’s not a coincidence. My family practically owns the town. Two years of partying and trying to lose myself in alcohol doesn’t make for the world’s greatest camp counselor, so in order to take back my family’s legacy, my father tells me I need to work alongside Dean. Prove myself capable of taking on the stress that comes with running a summer camp. And since Dean despises me nearly as much as I despise him, I know he won’t hesitate to let my father know the moment he deems me incapable.But this is my home. My place in the world, and I’ll pry that camp from him if it’s the last thing I do. That’s right. Sexy, broody, chip on his shoulder Dean Lewis has just become enemy number one.
About the Author
J.W. Ashley is the author of over fifteen fantasy and contemporary romance novels. The former of which she writes as Jessica Wayne. During the day, she slays laundry and dishes as a homeschooling, stay at home mom of three, and at night her worlds come to life on paper.She runs on coffee and wine (as well as the occasional whiskey!) and if you ever catch her wearing matching socks, it’s probably because she grabbed them in the dark.She has always believed in the power of true love and soul mates, even if sometimes we have to work a little harder to find ours.Jessica lives in Texas with her husband, kids, their two German Shepherd’s who think they’re cats, and a fluffy orange cat who thinks he’s a dog.You can usually find her in her Facebook group, The Wayne-O’s, or keep in touch by subscribing to her newsletter where she shares updates as well as shenanigans she finds herself in.
USA Today Bestselling author Claudia Burgoa presents a witty, funny & heartfelt billionaire, enemies-to-lovers romance.
I hate my boss. He’s the devil in disguise—but I just can’t seem to stay away.
When my employer Henry Alderidge is set to claim a large inheritance from his deceased father, he drags me along with him—because he needs his assistant. I have no choice but to move across the country with Satan’s bastard and stay with him for over a year in order to pay for my mother’s debts.
Henry drags me to a small town where everyone knows your business and to a family that’s more broken than close. The Alderidge brothers are handsome, arrogant, and sinful.
They’re also too much to handle.
Henry’s dad lost his mind before he died, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I don’t know how I’ll survive for eighteen months with this man.
Except you should never judge a book by its cover. And Henry Alderidge has more hiding beneath the surface than I ever thought possible…
The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers series is a romantic comedy saga packed with the perfect mix of angst, tears, and laughs. If you like strong heroines & alpha males, steamy romances and witty love stories, this series is for you!
hot mess: nouN 1. A disorganized, disaster at life. 2. Someone who excels at disorder and disarray. 3. A person who’s holding it together . . . but just barely. 4. Samantha Torres Once upon time Samantha had been young and single. But then she’d met Brian and they’d gotten married . . . and now she was single again, only this time she had the best little girl on the planet to show for it. Which was pretty much the only thing that was going right in her life. Brian, her lousy cheating ex, was finally out of the picture, and she was left with an expensive house, a car payment she could barely afford, and a job that left her drained at the end of the day. She was barely hanging on. Then she met Finn. The number one movie star in the world. The most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. Also, quite possibly the only man whose life might be a bigger hot mess than her own. And he wanted her . . . No, this couldn’t go wrong at all.
I can hate the player but still secretly love his addictive game. I’m sure of it.
“Roses are red, violets are blue, stay away from Andrew Watson’s *ahem* because no other women ever do.”
That’s quite the way to start a conversation at a casual lunch, huh? Grilled chicken, French fries, and pelvic-fatigue, oh my!
And that’s not even the worst of it.
My friend Raquel didn’t pull any punches when she warned me about my brand-new costar and his notoriously player-esque ways. Apparently, my most important mission on my first role in a feature film is to stay immune to his charms.
Are you kidding me? Production costs on this movie are in the hundreds of thousands a day, and staying away from a panty-whispering, vajayjay-charmer is supposed to be at the top of my list? Pfft.Puh-lease.
It doesn’t matter that he’s annoyingly attractive, uber rich, crazy famous, and lusted after by ninety percent of the female population; Andrew Watson is trouble with a capital T—especially for a woman like me.
As a preventative measure, I’ve decided to go ahead and hate him.
Don’t worry, you guys, I’m completely in control. There’s absolutely no way I’m going to do something stupid like fall in love with him.
I can hate the player but still secretly love his addictive game.
MY REVIEW by CEE CEE HOUSTON
A match made in Hollywood??
When Birdie and Andrew first met, they mixed like oil and water. But, even then their chemistry was clear to be seen. Birdie is a singer/ songwriter who’s been invited to audition for the female lead in Andrew’s next big movie project.
She’s a bag of nerves at her interview and when Andrew tries to help, she takes it as him being a jerk and so they get off on the wrong foot right away.
Andrew’s not used to being ignored. Women are usually falling over themselves to be with him, but not Birdie.
These two tried to play it cool but one kiss was all it took for their feeling to be ignited. They tried to fight them, but it was not in Fate’s plans.
I loved how these two interacted, with each other and their family/ friends and coworkers. It was not quite a slow burner, but they did have time to get to know one another before falling into bed. Birdie got to meet the ‘real’ Andrew, and he saw parts of Birdie others hadn’t.
This story had some real laugh-out-loud moments amongst the fighting and movie acting. I was caught up in it all and totally invested in these two getting together.
Yet another warm, down to earth funny story from the queens of Rom-Com.
True to my name, I’m about to take fucking flight. At least, I would if I could. In this moment, it really would have been helpful if my trainer hadn’t successfully eliminated all the extra flappy meat on my upper arms. Surely, if I got them going fast enough, the wind beneath those bat wings could have carried me up and through the ceiling of this place. C’mon, you big baby, I coach myself. You can do this. One cavernous breath into my lungs and then another and another, and eventually, just before my vision turns tunneled, I will my feet to move away from the door. Gleaming marble floors, golden statues, and a freaking fountain in the center, the lobby of Capo Brothers Studios is everything I should have expected and more. If everything is bigger in Texas, then everything is most certainly richer in LA. I check in with security quickly, my voice only a little croaky thanks to the frog in my throat, and head for the elevator bank at the far side of the lobby. I’m to head to the fifteenth floor, I’m told, and then go straight down the hall to the glass doors on the left at the end. There, I’ll find William Capo’s office—the head honcho and only surviving brother of Capo Brothers. My cowgirl boots are noisy on the marble floors when I do as instructed. The sound you make when you walk is such a small detail—one I don’t normally think about—but the echo of their clack today makes my heart feel like it’s knocking into my rib cage and each step across the ornate floor is merely a sound effect. Fifteen floors eclipse quickly—clearly, they’ve spared no expense on their elevator—and the hallway that leads to William’s office seems strangely one-directional. Like once I go down it—once I take this step—there will be no going back. Which is probably why, after forcing myself to go the distance to the end, I pause at the open door, the points of my booted toes just shy of crossing the line. “Good morning.” A pretty assistant dressed in a white power suit greets me before I’ve even cleared the threshold of the door, and all thoughts of escape are dashed. Like it or not, I’ve just been shoved over the line. I will my feet to do the same as she continues to speak. “Can I help you?” “I’m Birdie Harris,” I answer and have to swallow hard against the dryness threatening to close my throat. “I have an audition.” My nerves are so obvious, the assistant offers a sympathetic smile. If she were from my childhood hometown in West Virginia, she’d most likely be thinking Bless her heart. She taps something across the keyboard of her iMac and places her hand to the Bluetooth at her ear. “Mr. Capo, I have Birdie Harris here.” Immediately, she looks away from the computer and meets my eyes. “They’ll be ready for you shortly. You can take a seat over there.” She points behind me, back through the door and across the hall to what I’m assuming is a fancy-schmancy waiting room of some sort. I haven’t encountered a place in the building that doesn’t have some sort of gilded or marble inlay, so I highly doubt I’m going to step through that door and into a room styled by the set designer for Saw. Though, I can’t say some sort of torture device wouldn’t be completely misplaced right now. I’m already doing a pretty good job of mentally waterboarding myself with worry. I offer a little nod, keeping my twisted, sicko thoughts to myself. I doubt they’re interested in hiring a woman on the brink of a hysterical episode. The secretary quirks a brow, and I realize, though I’ve nodded my affirmation of understanding, I’ve yet to move. Good God, Birdie! Go sit down. Annoyed with myself, I turn on my boots and march across the hall so violently, it’s like there’s an invisible person helping me along with a heavy hand at the nape of my neck. When I cross into the room, a man is sitting on a swanky leather sofa with his booted feet up on the coffee table. He glances up briefly before returning his eyes to the phone in his lap. Embarrassed, I smooth my clomps instantly. You’re a gazelle, Birdie, not a herd of buffalo, I coach. Move like it. With his attention occupied, I survey him more closely as I move to take a seat across from him. He’s wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and his jawline would make steel beams look weak. Seriously. Confronted with an earthquake, I would seek shelter right under the eave of his jaw. I’d love to get another peek at his eyes just to study the color, but fearing the eye contact that would require, I’m careful not to make any overt noises that might draw his attention again. When he smirks, a devilish proposition-like smile at the screen of his phone, I don’t have to wonder anymore. Oh no. I know exactly who this man is. Andrew Watson. The very man Rocky warned me about and I subsequently Instagram stalked. A laundry list of different women dotted through his timeline, it confirmed everything Rocky told me and then some. All relaxed and cool, he sits on the white leather sofa with one arm outstretched across the back. Confidence and charm ooze from every freaking cell in his body. No doubt, Andrew Watson is more than capable of commanding the attention of everyone in the room, no matter the situation. No wonder he’s one of Hollywood’s most famous actors. The only time I have that kind of quiet confidence is when I’m onstage, singing my songs, lost in the music I created. Just play it cool, Birdie. On a deep breath, I force the uncertainty and unease out of my shoulders and settle my ass into the sofa across from him. He shifts again, crossing one ankle over the other and casually adjusting the denim at his crotch. My eyes are immediately drawn to his bulge, and thanks to Rocky’s colorful descriptions of his favorite appendage, a little penis-shaped soldier is burned in my brain. After a few seconds of imagining the shape of his helmet and intensity of his salute, I jerk my gaze away in a panic. Jesus. As if this audition wasn’t screwing with my head enough! Now I have Saving Ryan’s Privates, a military-themed porno my head just made up starring Staff Sergeant Dick Richardson, complicating things even more! I must make a noise I don’t realize—the sound of my saliva gurgling in my throat while I choke on it, perhaps—because Andrew looks at me with curious eyes. I try like hell to keep my calm and act like I haven’t just gone to mental war with the soldier in his pants, but there’s only so much hysteria containment my mind is capable of. “Uh…hi,” I say, trying so dang hard not to glance back down at his crotch that I start spewing diarrhea of the mouth about goddamn military-themed movies. “I never saw A Few Good Men, but I hear Tom Cruise was good in it.” When I realize what I’ve just said makes absolutely no sense to him—punctuated perfectly by his eyebrows drawing together noticeably—the gurgling saliva turns into a full-blown choke, and suddenly, the only way to breathe is through a hacking cough. Holy shit, I’m too anxious to be around other humans right now! Also, I’m going to kill Rocky for putting this crap in my head about this guy’s penis. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I hold up my hand in some kind of gesture. I’m not sure of its technical name, but its meaning is clear—please forget I exist right now. He asks me once more, but I nod, and once the embarrassing coughing fit passes, I meet his piercingly gray-blue eyes—seeing their color is strikingly unavoidable now—and I offer a halfhearted smile. “Sorry,” I apologize. I didn’t mean to drag him into an impromptu SNL sketch where I choke on spit and say ridiculously inappropriate, off-the-wall things. “I guess you could say I’m a little nervous.” His responding smile gleams so bright, I have to wonder if he has an endorsement deal with Crest toothpaste. His mouth would make a dental hygienist get on their hands and knees and thank the Lord above. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. There’s no need to be nervous around me,” he responds, punctuating his words with a wink. If my mind were a screenplay, the nerves would be exiting stage left. Did he seriously just wink at me after assuming that I’m nervous to be in his presence? Surely, I’m hearing this wrong. No one is that obsessed with themselves…right? “Excuse me?” I ask, and his megawatt smile is still ever-present. “If you’d like me to sign an autograph or take a selfie with you,” he enunciates slowly, as if my being able to understand him clearly was the problem. “I can probably sneak that in before I have to head in there.” His autograph? You have got to be kidding me. He sure is a cocky bastard—and for the first time today, I’m not even talking about his dick. Like the tip of a match being swiped across the edge of a matchbook, aggravation bursts into my veins. “I’m here for an audition,” I assert. Unfazed, he quirks a brow as if to say, my invitation for an autograph still stands. Attractive or not, this guy is one of the biggest asses I’ve ever been around. “I’m Birdie Harris. I’m auditioning for the role of Arizona Lee.” And I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna land this acting gig just to spite this prick.
About Max Monroe
A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.
Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far.
Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: July 29th
Truth or dare? I always choose a dare. And no matter the dare, I always follow through.
Even if it means walking down a busy street in my bathrobe and hair curlers. Or recreating that iconic When Harry Met Sally deli scene while on a crowded subway. Or hitting on a handsome stranger in a bar. And then … marrying that stranger. While in Vegas. But the one thing I’m not supposed to do is fall in love with this man. That wasn’t part of the dare. Only my heart never got that memo.
One Little Dare by Whitney Barbetti was a sweet and cute story with an underlying current of sadness and guilt that was heart-wrenching at times.
Liam and Tori were great together, both have faced emotional trauma over the years. Liam has just lost his best friend and isn’t even thinking about hooking up with anyone never mind finding his soulmate.
Tori is just trying to forget how much her dad has disappointed her- yet again, and even though she loves him, she wants him to face the reality of what he’s doing. Meeting Liam helps her forget her troubles with her dad.
This book had quite an emotional story to tell, and Whitney did a fabulous job with it. The characters were well written and the story flowed evenly.
I always enjoy Whitney’s books and One Little Dare didn’t disappoint. Grab your copy today.
Meet Whitney Barbetti
Whitney Barbetti writes character-driven contemporary and new adult romance novels, heavy on the emotional connection. Thanks to her passion for mental health awareness, she often writes characters who suffer from some type of mental illness, in an effort to help people understand them better and to rid the stigma that surrounds those who live bravely despite their struggles. As a Navy brat, Whitney grew up all over the country, from California to Colorado and up and down the eastern United States. She currently resides in the western United States with her husband, two children, and two ridiculous cats. Her favorite things include Taco Bell, Diet Coke, terrible reality tv, and a really good thriller novel.
Remi Tanner wasn’t part of the plan. But when I see my uncle doting on her, I know she’s going to help me destroy him. I’ll taunt her. Test her. In the end, I’ll break her. ce Jagger wasn’t a good guy. But he swept into my life like a storm, and I’m caught up in the aftermath. He’s cruel. Calculating. In the end, I never stood a chance. She might be a Sterling Prep princess, and I might be the guy from the wrong side of the tracks, but one thing’s for sure… I won’t stop until I get what I want. Revenge.Taunt Her is a dark high school bully romance. If possessive, tattooed, motorcycle-riding alphaholes aren’t your thing, you probably won’t like this book!
MY REVIEW by CEE CEE HOUSTON
This duet is completely binge-worthy!!
I once told myself that ‘bully romances’ weren’t my thing… and they weren’t. Well, so I believed. However, in the last few months, I have read a number of them and I have to say, I’m getting quite addicted to this trope.
Taunt Her, is the first in the ‘Rebels at Sterling Prep’ duet, and follows the high school romance of Remi and Ace.
Ace is a bad boy, from the wrong side of town, and Remi, a quiet, almost shy girl, but she has a backbone when she really needs it. They created sparks when they met and it leads to some hot, fiery moments between them. They are opposites in every way, but they just clicked and despite the ups and down against them, they want to be together.
But, can they be. I guess we’ll find out for sure in book two; coming soon.
About the Authors
Two angsty romance lovers writing dark heroes and the feisty girls who bring them to their knees.