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More Than Tempt You, an all-new, sexy standalone from New York Times bestselling author Shayla Black is available now!

I romanced her for revenge…but what if she’s not the enemy after all?

I’m Clint Holmes. I was an ambitious guy with a busy life and a growing business. Sure North Dakota wasn’t a tropical paradise, but I was happy enough—until tragedy struck. Now the only thing that matters is finding the person responsible and making her pay. But Bethany Banks is a Harvard-educated shark used to swallowing her enemies whole while playing dangerous corporate games. How can a blue-collar oil man like me possibly beat her?

The moment I lay eyes on my beautiful nemesis, the answer is obvious. I seduce her.

On Maui, where she’s fled, I get to know the man-eater who caused my family so much pain…only to find she’s not the brazen ballbuster I assumed. She’s skittish, secretive, vulnerable. For some reason, my instinct is to protect her. I can’t abandon my plan…but I can’t stop wanting her. Night after night, I pry her open with my touch until I’m drowning in our passion. Soon, I’m questioning everything, especially the fine line between love and hate. But when the past comes back to wreak vengeance and the truth explodes, can I prove that I’m more than tempted to love her forever?

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My Review

More Than Tempt You is the perfect title for Clint Holmes and Bethany Banks’ story because Clint’s plan to uncover the truth revolves around getting as close to Bethany as he can, but while finding his in wasn’t difficult once he found her location, keeping his connection with her as impersonal as possible is easier said than done, which not only complicates his plan for revenge but also makes him question everything he ever thought about her role in his family’s fall from grace.

It’s fitting that most of Clint and Bethany’s story is told through his point-of-view. It’s his mission…his cause…his need for closure, so witnessing everything from his perspective allows readers to gain information as he does, sifting through all of the details of what happened as well as working to figure out who the real Bethany is because the version that he interacts with and gets closer to in Hawaii is nothing like the enemy he’s put everything on the line to take down.

I have to admit…not getting Bethany’s viewpoint, at times, made it a bit difficult to understand her…to sort through the facts from the fiction…to ascertain just what kind of person her father’s demands made her and how different things could have been for her if she would have found a way to see through her father’s secrets and lies.

Regardless of how plutonic Clint tried to make things between him and Bethany, it was clear he was a goner for her as soon as she showed herself to be something completely different that who Clint had pegged her as, which means that while he infiltrated her life with ulterior motives, everything changes for him, but what that means for uncovering the truth about what happened and the mess Clint will be in not if but when Bethany learns she’s been played, once again being used by a man who fooled her and treated her as a toy instead of the intelligent woman she is.

I’ve really enjoyed Shayla Black’s More Than Words series, and More Than Tempt You was an intriguing read – one with a bit of mystery and drama as well as a quest for the truth mixed in. Clint and Bethany’s story may have started as an enemies-to-lovers, but it seems to turn into something else as soon as Clint questions who Bethany really is and what kind of closure he now wants/needs for both his family and himself.

4 Poison Apples 

Excerpt

“Can one of you keep an eye on Beth? She’s getting hit on a lot, which I told her to expect. But one creepy guy who was here last night is here again today. He seems awfully determined.”

“The one in the loud Hawaiian shirt with the matching personality?” my buddy asks.

“That one. He parked his ass in her station as soon as we opened. He’s been messing with her ever since.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I chime in.

First, when I bartended on the side in the past, I saw a lot of the girls struggle with dirtbags who refused to understand that no means no. Second, coming to her rescue will be a great way to meet Bethany and start gaining her trust. I refuse to think about how excited my libido is to spend time with her.

“Thanks, Clint.”

With that, Andy dismisses us. Ash and I file down the hall.

My buddy laughs. “You in the role of Bethany’s protector. Oh, the irony…”

“Hey, I’m not out to hurt her. I just want justice. I have no doubt she helped to swindle those people, so she deserves to pay as the law provides.”

“Fair enough. But, um…she clearly flips your switch. How are you going to keep your paws off her?”

Bethany Banks turning me on visually is fucking inconvenient. I’m sure that once I start talking to the woman, her personality will quickly turn me off. “I’ll work it out.”

“Ready for the madhouse?”

I follow Ash behind the bar. “Let’s do it.”

It takes me less than ten minutes to learn the ropes. Then Ash introduces me to the other waitress on duty, Montana. She’s a sultry brunette with dark eyes, golden skin, and big tits. Honestly, she’s usually my speed in women.

And yet as we’re chatting and she’s flirting, my gaze keeps straying to Bethany. What is it about her? She’s beautiful, but what else? Is it her aloofness? Maybe. I want to figure her out so I can understand why a brilliant woman, surely capable of making her own fortune, would help her father fleece people. The angry part of me wants to grasp how she managed not to get caught. Mostly, I fear the attraction is chemical and, regardless of what logic tells me, I want to nail her.

When Montana jaunts off with a wink. Ash pulls me aside. “Are you that rusty? Montana would totally do you, and you blew her off.”

I know, and the fact I’m not interested annoys me. “I’m not here for sex. Introduce me to ‘Beth’ and let’s get this farce going.”

As we approach, she sets a beer down in front of a guy who’s fortyish in a Hawaiian shirt—like a lot of the tourists here. He eyes her with excruciating intensity. She meets his gaze with an arched brow raised.

My gut tells me she’s not only not interested, but she’s silently rebuffing him.

Mug delivered, Bethany turns to leave. The man grips her wrist hard, his muscles flexing, veins popping, knuckles white. When she winces and tries to wriggle free, he clamps tighter and stands, jerking her toward him.

Fuck that. Even if Bethany Banks is guilty of a multitude of sins, she doesn’t deserve to be manhandled by this jerk against her will.

I barge my way between them, shoving her behind me. “Do we have a problem here, sir?”

Fury pinches his mouth. He narrows his eyes. “This has nothing to do with you. Butt out.”

“You don’t have permission to maul the staff. I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands to yourself or leave.”

“Do you have your head so far up her twat that you don’t see she’s a fucking bitch?” The guy scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and you deserve everything you get when she chews you up and spits you out.”

With that, the asshole tosses down some money and starts to walk away.

I’m furious. In part because he accused me of wanting her when I do. But mostly I’m pissed on Bethany’s behalf. “That was uncalled for. You’re not welcome back here unless you apologize to her.”

He grits his teeth, upper lip curling up with contempt as he turns to Bethany. “Fine. A thousand apologies.”

The douche doesn’t mean a word of that, and I want to pound his face. No, I’m not looking to become Bethany’s knight in shining armor. But this kind of guy always grates on my nerves because he thinks he can treat all women like trash, and the only thing that matters less than them are their feelings. I hate pricks like him.

Unfortunately, I can’t do anything else right now without ramping up the incident, instigating a fight…and probably getting fired. Instead, once he leaves, I turn to Bethany. I’m pissed all over again when I see she’s gone tense, as if she’s trying to hold herself together, and sporting a big red handprint around her small wrist.

“You okay?”

She nods. It’s shaky at first, then she drags in a steadying breath. “Yeah. He might be the first to think he can demand something more than a drink. But like Andy said, he won’t be the last. I’ll get used to it. Thanks for stepping in. I’m Beth.”

When she holds out her hand, I have to admit I’m impressed by her backbone. I’ve seen new waitresses shrink, cry, and ultimately quit when confronted with a customer that vile. Bethany simply picked herself up and now looks determined to carry on.

“You’re welcome. I’m Clint. It’s my first day.” I shake her hand.

We touch. Heat flares and rolls through me, instant and scorching. If I wanted to fuck her before, it’s nothing compared to the lust burning me now.

About Shayla

Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than sixty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.

Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.

Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.

Connect with Shayla

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Website: https://www.shaylablack.com

Debase by Rachel Van Dyken

Release Date: April 30, 2019

Debase, the final book in the Eagle Elite Series and the first new book in the Elite Bratva Brotherhood by #1 New York Times Bestselling Author Rachel Van Dyken.

With blood on my hands, I held her.

With death in my soul, I took from her.

With the devil in my heart, I coveted her.

There are many definitions of Hell.

My list was exhaustive, my definitions tragic.

Tonight I was adding something new to the very top.

Girl number six thirty-two.

She arrived on my birthday, the same day, every year, I play Russian Roulette and pull the trigger.

She was my omen.

My end game.

She made it personal.

And for the first time in my life, I gave in.

A virgin mob boss with no soul.

My name is Andrei Petrov.

They call me the devil.

All I want is for the pain to end.

All she wants is for me to share it.

I am the last remaining heir to a dynasty that should burn in Hell.

And my last wish remains for it to die with me.

Download your copy today!

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My Review

I’ll never get enough of Rachel Van Dyken’s mafia world and the families who rule it, and while it’s a dangerous, destructive, and deadly environment to be a part of, it also epitomizes what brotherhood, fidelity, and honor are all about, illustrating the true measure of a man and what it takes to differentiate between truth and lies as well as those individuals who are working with them or against them.

Throughout the Eagle Elite series, Van Dyken has introduced readers to a bevy of alpha male mafia men, and while their personalities vary based on their life experiences, their struggles, and the roles that they’ve had as members of some of the most important Italian mafia families, at their core, they’re all about protecting their own and loving as fiercely as they hate their enemies.

And now with a spin-off series from the Eagle Elite, readers still get to interact with some of our favorite mafia heroes as well as learn about a new bloodline – the Elite Bratva Brotherhood – and let me tell you, Van Dyken doesn’t hold anything back in Debase; in fact, Andrei Petrov is perhaps even more ruthless and vindictive than any of the other characters we have already met throughout the series.

I definitely had a love/hate relationship with Andrei throughout the course of his and Alice’s story, and I would probably liken his anti-hero like demeanor and attitude to another tortured mafia man – Phoenix – and I could go on and on about my disdain and distrust, but ultimately, my complete adoration for how he rose from his past misdeeds and found his own way out of the darkness.

Andrei Petrov – I’m sure there will be a mixed bag of feelings from readers when it comes to this deliverer of destruction and devastation, but it’s essential to look at him as the sum of all of his parts and personality traits, not just the ones that are constantly at the forefront – those that illustrate him as the devil…as an irredeemable sinner lost in the darkness of his past, not seeking redemption but a way to become void of all of the pain and torturous memories that refuse to release him.

The way the heroine is introduced signifies her uniqueness and the fact that she might just be Andrei’s salvation. But that can only happen if Andrei allows it to and as far as he’s concerned, he’s too tainted…too damaged…too inundated with darkness to ever allow her the opportunity to bring him into even the smallest amount of life. Too bad that won’t stop her, and while their path is going to be one riddled with refusals, mistrust, and hot and cold interactions, what starts to build between them is more essential than either of them could have imagined.

But like all of Rachel Van Dyken’s mafia stories, there are complicated twists and suspenseful moments that readers won’t see coming nor will they figure out how everything will reach a positive conclusion when chaos and duplicity reign.

It’s difficult to move forward when people are so clearly defined by their past…its trauma, its heartache, and its oppression, but what Debase works to prove is that sometimes in the least likeliest of places and ways, memories and darkness can be overrun with a bit of hope and light.

4.5 Poison Apples

Excerpt

I slid my tongue into her mouth. I tasted, I took, I was greedy with each kiss. With blood on my hands, I held her.

With death in my soul, I drank from her.

With the devil in my heart, I coveted her.

I wanted closer.

More.

My gloves felt too hot for my hands.

My hands too big to contain the weeping leather as I pulled away from Alice and stared into her big blue eyes.

“You don’t want this,” I whispered.

She bit down on her swollen lip and reached for me, I stood still as her warm hands touched both of my cheeks. “Lie.”

I let out a hiss of air at her touch. “Walk. Away.”

“Kiss me again.”

“I can’t do that.” I needed to stop doing that.

“Can’t or won’t?”

I told myself one more kiss, one more touch. I told myself it would be okay, that I was still in control.

That I was above this.

That no woman had ever owned me.

No woman had ever taken everything.

My chest heaved as I stared at her mouth, unable to move, completely rooted to the floor.

Alice moved her hands to my jeans and slowly unbuttoned them. I didn’t stop her, I needed to fucking stop her, but it was like I’d drank this paralyzing poison from her lips and couldn’t function, could only watch her as my soul floated above my body, mocking my inaction, telling me that this would be the end of me.

The very end.

Letting her in.

Keeping her there.

I would give her everything.

And then I would lose control.

Lose my mind.

Lose my heart.

I would lose.

So would she.

“Alice…” My voice cracked. “I wish…” Her hands stilled on my jeans like she was ready to pull them down. “I can’t. I wish I could. I can’t.”

How could she possibly understand?

How could I explain the gut-wrenching fear of looking in the mirror and knowing that one choice kept me sane. One choice.

And that was sex.

He’d made that choice.

I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t trust myself, couldn’t trust it wouldn’t happen to me too, and hurt someone like her.

Someone so very… perfect.

Without blinking, Alice gripped my jeans, indecision etched on every pretty part of her face.

She was beautiful.

So damn beautiful.

I gripped her wrists with my hands and pulled them away from the very real temptation of getting completely naked and sinking into her, feeling her clench around me, her tight heat.

Shit.

I pulled her into my arms, and she rested her head on my shoulder. Just because I couldn’t let her touch me, couldn’t cross that line, didn’t mean I couldn’t make her happy, I would kill to watch her face in the throes of multiple orgasms.

I quickly gripped her by the hips and put her up on the cold granite countertop.

“Andrei what are you doing?” She looked down at me uncertainty in her blue eyes.

I moved my hands to her ass and pulled down the black leggings she’d been wearing, all the way down to her ankles, right along with a pair of lacy underwear that were bright pink, and perfect.

“Andrei?”

“Yes?”

“Seriously, what are you doing?”

I gripped her knees with my hands and then spread them wide. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” I smirked. “I’m feasting.”

Her eyes widened.

Never underestimate a virgin with an extremely vivid imagination and heightened sexual appetite.

I wasn’t a fucking monk.

I would like to think I knew more than most men, because I’d seen it all, watched it, inadvertently studied it.

If someone gave me a diagram of a woman, I could point out over twenty-two ways to get her off — with my tongue, a feather, my fingers, take your pick.

“You don’t have to—” She let out a gasp, gripping the edge of the granite, turning her hands white.

I chuckled darkly against her right thigh and bit. “I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t have to?”

“I’ve never, nobody has ever… done. This.”

“Tell me,” I asked gently before I dipped my tongue inside her and flicked.

Her entire body jerked.

“Tell me he never touched you like this, tell me nobody has ever touched you like this.”

“Never,” she rasped. “You.” That word was like a gunshot going off in my soul. “Only you, Andrei.”

“Me.” I flicked my tongue again, and gripped her by the ass, pulling her almost completely off the counter while I sat beneath her and sucked her off in the most primitive aggressive way I knew how.

With every ounce of energy I had in my physical body.

With my soul.

I used every weapon in my arsenal.

About Rachel

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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Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelVanDyken
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Silver

Hit me.

Kick me.

Hurt me.

Hate me.

There’s nothing that the students of Raleigh High can do to Silver Parisi anymore. Over the past year, she’s had to endure more pain and suffering than most people are asked to bear in their lifetimes. She’s a pariah, an outcast, a ghost. She’s also never been one to take shit lying down, though…despite what half the football team might say.

With only one hundred and sixty-eight days left of the school year, it won’t be long until graduation, and Silver’s planning on skipping town and leaving Raleigh firmly in her rearview mirror…

Until he comes along…

Alex

Orphan.

Degenerate.

Reprobate.

Deviant.

Alex Moretti’s earned most of his labels, and he’s not shamed of a single one of them. He’ll earn far worse before he’s finished with his new found ‘friends’ at Raleigh High. Having spent years being ground down under the boot heel of society, it’s time for a little payback. And if exacting a revenge upon the heads of the Raleigh elite means he can also help the beautiful girl who hovers in the shadows, then that’s all for the better.

Oil and water. Fire and ice. The differences between Silver and Alex are broader than any chasm. To reach one another, they must take a leap of faith and fall into the divide.

And falling?

Nothing good ever came from falling.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GPxeyR

My Review

I knew heading into Silver and Alex’s story that this wasn’t going to be a YA read, not even close; I also quickly realized that even though the characters are 17 year old high school seniors, the events and issues that unfold as The Rebel of Raleigh High continues are destructive, deviant, and beyond devastating, illustrating the darker sides of people’s personalities and what happens when money and social status matter more than the truth.

The beginning of the book focuses on the heroine and the hero separately as they adjust to and endure their new normal in the halls of Raleigh High, and while they handle things differently due to the situation that placed them in their current position, neither of them wants to deal with the elite Raleigh Royalty because all they are, are a bunch of followers who blindly trail behind a crew who doesn’t deserve the respect or honor that their cronies dote on them.

Silver Parisi may have been one of the Queen Bs of Raleigh, but for the past 9 months, as the school’s pariah, she has had to endure continual mistreatment, nasty remarks, and sneering glares from those who she once called friends, simply because she refused to remain quiet when her choices were taken from her and a group of guys played a sick and twisted game with her body and her mind.

I truly don’t know how Silver kept it together day in and day out with the amount of abuse that was doled out. Regardless of how other people viewed her, she refused to cower…she refused to break, even though she would have had every right to given what she endured. I do wish that there would have been further insight into how she handled what happened to her all on her own without succumbing to the darkness…to the fractures of her heart with all of the loss…to the loneliness she felt when everyone ditched her. Because even though Silver seems to just deal with everything, there had to be breaking points…there had to be times where the risk of being swallowed up whole would have overwhelmed her.

I don’t know if I’ve ever been introduced to a hero in quite the way Callie Hart unveils Alex Moretti to her readers. But as unusual and off-putting as it seemed, on some level, I understood his actions. He’s a bit of a loose cannon for much of the story, which makes sense given his backstory and all that he has to endure by other people’s words and actions. Alex is definitely a lot like Silver, and the fact that they challenge each other, make one another feel alive, and give the other person something to fight for is a testament to how strong they are.

I love that Alex saw through the fake personalities of the Raleigh Elite and went about proving just how much he didn’t care for their antics and showboating. He’s as fierce and uncaring as Silver is, so it’s easy to see why they’re intrigued by each other. As much as Silver tried to stay away from Alex, it wasn’t possible because on some level, she knew she needed him and he needed her to keep their shoulders straight…to keep their heads up…to keep enduring, which is exactly what they do because they’re no longer fighting their fight alone.

The ending events  of the book seemed to come out of nowhere, so much so that I actually went back into the earlier chapters to see if there were clues and inferences made that would indicate that even more chaos was headed their way. I actually didn’t find too many, which the more I thought about it, the more it made sense that there shouldn’t be because situations like the one these students find themselves in at the end of the story don’t occur in a rational way, so keeping things unexpected fits.

If I remember correctly, Callie Hart plans to bring readers back to Raleigh High and provide us with more of Silver and Alex’s story, which I’m eager to read because there are a lot of loose ends at the end of book, and I need a bit more closer on a few of conflicts that are still open ended. And, I also wouldn’t mind Alex delving out some payback in what I would suspect would be ingenious ways.

4.5 Poison Apples

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That Second Chance Excerpt

I’m counting out our register drawer, trying to stay focused on the numbers whipping through my head, but it’s difficult with Reid’s constant small talk. I jot down another tally mark on the paper in front of me and set aside a stack of bills.

“Hello, are you listening?” Reid asks, sounding annoyed.

“No. I’m counting.”

“Well, I’m talking about you, so you might want to lend me your ear for a second.”

Huffing, I set the cash on the counter, knowing my very persistent brother won’t be quiet until I give him my full attention. “What’s up, Reid?”

Satisfied, he smiles. “You should ask her out.”

“Ask who out?”

“Ren.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. “No.”

I go back to counting, but Reid starts snapping his fingers at me. “Hey, I wasn’t finished.” I look back up at him, not even slightly interested in this conversation. “I saw the way she was looking at you today. I think she likes you.”

“You’re confused. She was probably just being nice, since I’m the guy who pulled her out of the window of her car after her accident. And even if she does like me, which I highly doubt, there’s no interest on my end. So that’s the end of that.”

“Bull,” Reid and Jen both say at the same time.

Christ. My two most nagging siblings are ganging up on me. Just what I need when I’m trying to get home and relax.

“Can we not make this into a dissection of my personal life, please? I’m not in the mood, and I want to get this done so I can go home.”

“Griff, she’s pretty, she’s sweet, and she’s smart. She’s new to town and, I’m sure, could use a friend,” Jen says just as the door opens, its bell chiming through the space. Brig pops in, grease all over his shirt and a smirk on his face.

Uh-oh. There’s only one reason why he’d be smirking at me that way.

“What are we talking about?” He rubs his hands together and takes a seat on a barstool near the window. “If it’s about the hot new teacher in town, I want in on this conversation.”

“We’re trying to convince Griff to ask her out.”

Brig slow claps his appreciation. “Novel idea. I think they’re a perfect match.”

“I’m not asking her out,” I huff, giving up on the register and leaning against the wall behind me, arms crossed. There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on counting while these three are yapping in my ear.

“Why the hell not? She’s perfect for you,” Brig says, a little insulted at my rejection. “Before you even say no, you should at least get to know her a little. I told her today she could borrow your truck while her car is in the shop.”

I count to five before answering, tamping down my temper. “Why the hell would you do that?” Okay, maybe I didn’t tamp it down enough.

“Uh, because she lives three houses down from you?” Brig rolls his eyes as if I’m the stupid one in this conversation. “She needs some help, so be a knight in shining armor, dude. Help out the damsel in distress and then make out with her on the beach. Maybe cop a feel; get some for once.”

“I’m not doing that,” I answer, going back to the money, letting them know this conversation is over.

“And why not?” Jen asks.

“Because I’m not interested in starting or being in a relationship. I’m happy with how my life is right now, and I don’t need anything complicating it.”

“But she has heart eyes for you,” Brig says like a jackass.

“Don’t worry; there are plenty of Knightly brothers to choose from,” I reply.

“Come on, Griff, how fun can going home to an empty, lonely house really be?” Jen chimes in, concern evident in her voice.

I shift on my feet, my voice terse. “I like my house. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Silence falls between us, an awkward air moving in like a fast-moving cold front.

“Is this because of New Orleans?” Reid finally asks, taking a seat next to Brig. Both of my brothers fix their gazes on me, waiting for an answer.

Why is this a thing whenever we talk about my love life? Can’t they just let it go? What happened was … hell, I don’t even know how to describe it. All I know is I don’t foresee love in my future.

Claire was the love of my life, and I lost her; in a blink of an eye she was gone. I’m not going through that again. Not ever.

Shaking my head, I turn away from my family. This conversation is over.

And with that, I take the cash to the back office, where I can get some peace and quiet.

Ask Ren Winters out on a date? Not going to happen.

And she’s not going to drive my truck either. I think that’s evident in the fact that she drove her car in between two trees.

Can’t blame a guy there.

That Second Chance releases May 7th!

Pre order your copy HERE!

 

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!

Imperfect Match, a sexy friends to lovers standalone romance, from New York Times bestselling Corinne Michaels & USA Today bestselling Melanie Harlow, is available now!

Rule number one for a professional matchmaker?

Don’t fall in love with your client.

I screwed that up when I fell for my best friend, Reid Fortino. He’s gorgeous, successful, and sexy as hell. I figured it would be easy to find him a match—and save the family business at the same time.

But the more time I spend attempting to find the perfect girl, the more I realize how much I want him for my own. What’s the harm if we give in for just one night?

I should have known that would never be enough.

Now I’m on the verge of losing my job and my heart.

We were an imperfect match from the start, but I don’t know how to let him go.

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My Review

Melanie Harlow and Corinne Michaels illustrate the tight friendship between Reid and Willow right from the start of their story, and it’s made clear just how close they are, how well they know each other, and how easily they get along even with their contrasting personalities.

The matchmaker twist to the story line is an interesting one because it’s supposed to be a way for Willow to prove that she can find Reid his perfect match – the woman who he would gladly give up his bachelorhood for – but that’s easier said than done because as Willow gets the process underway, the push and pull between these two best friends begins to redefine what they mean to each other, but where that leaves them does nothing but complicate things even further because they see their lives playing out in very different ways, meaning that if they can’t find a way to meet in the middle, things will be over between them before they even really get started. I truly didn’t know how they would work through their issues and figure out a way to be together as more than the friends they started as and to be honest, it seemed to resolve itself way easier than I thought it would given their differing viewpoints. 

I always find friends-to-lovers’ stories interesting to read, especially when it’s two people who have been good friends for awhile and have never allowed themselves to see beyond the platonic love they share. I’m always curious to understand when and how things changed for one or both of them and how much they had to weigh the pros and the cons of altering the dynamics of their friendship for something that could make or break things between them.

Willow and Reid’s story is an entertaining friends-to-lovers’ romance that has a great cast of supporting characters to help spur the hero and heroine into action as well as help them to realize how perfect they are as best friends but also how imperfectly perfect they are as more.

4 Poison Apples

Excerpt

What would it be like to have her that way? Skin to skin? Breathless and begging? My body inside hers?

I want answers, I think as I open the door to our building.

No, I need them.

I take the elevator up to our floor and go right to her apartment. Using the key she gave me, I unlock her door, smiling that she still hasn’t changed the lock, and head inside.

“Reid?” She jumps off the couch and I freeze.

Jesus, she’s fucking beautiful. I’ve seen her a million times like this, but I don’t know what it is—I can’t breathe.

Her hair is piled up on top of her head in some sort of nest, the glasses that she swears she doesn’t need are on, and her legs … God, her legs. Long, sweet, slender … they would look perfect around my neck.

“What are you doing here? If this is about …” She stops talking and looks at me, her eyes full of confusion as I watch her chest rise and fall.

I walk toward her, unable to stand still. My hands grip her cheeks, and I pull her mouth to mine. Her gasp is swallowed by the searing kiss. Her fingers wrap around my wrists and I don’t know if she’s trying to stop me, but I’m going to keep going until she does.

Yet she never does. Instead of pushing me away, her hands move to my hips.

Willow kisses me back.

She kisses me like this is the only option.

She kisses me harder and more passionately than the last time.

She gives as much as she takes and I fucking revel in it.

This is crazy, but I don’t care. It’s right. It’s everything that finally makes sense. I wondered what it would be like and now I know—it’s fucking perfect.

“Reid.” She says my name and then pulls my mouth back to hers.

I kiss her, loving how our mouths fit and the way her tongue feels against mine.

“Tell me to stop.” I give her an out that I pray she won’t take.

“What?”

“Tell me now, Wills.”

I’m desperate for her. Seeing her tonight, knowing she was spying on me, did something to my heart that I can’t explain. It was the answer to the question that neither of us was willing to face.

There’s something here.

Maybe it’s new. Maybe it’s always been there but we didn’t see it. Maybe Willow and I needed to be pushed. Whatever the reason, the outcome is this.

She touches my face. Her fingertips are soft, and she moves her thumb to my lip. “I can’t. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want it to stop.”

“Good, because I don’t think I could.”

My mouth is back to hers the second the words are out.

She giggles against my lips and I drink it in. Everything about Willow is sweet. Her mouth, her laughter, her heart. They all make her irresistible. I don’t know how I never saw it.

I break the kiss and scoop her into my arms, bringing her back to the bedroom. She doesn’t say anything, and I’m glad for it.

We’re both always in our heads and I’m very much ready to be in her instead.

I lay her down and crawl over her, loving how she looks at me with lust-filled eyes. “Tell me what you want, Wills.” She shakes her head and I know what she’s doing, but I’m not having it. “Don’t think, baby, just tell me.”

Her lids fall, closing me off to what she doesn’t want me to see, and I take a beat to really look at her. Lips swollen, shirt falling off her shoulder, hair fanning out on the bed. She looks like an angel.

“I want you to kiss me,” she whispers.

About the Authors

New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Corinne Michaels is the author of nine romance novels. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.

After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.

USA Today Bestselling Author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

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Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is available now!

Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.
Who: one night stand.
How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

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About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

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My Review

When she’s not writing about strong men and the sassy women who sweep them off their feet, Maria is a historian who specializes in medieval England and 19th century New Orleans. What do the two eras have in common, you ask? Not much, except for disease, scandalous activities and crime–Maria’s favorite topics.

Maria lives in New Orleans with her better half, where she can generally be found hiking with her two dogs, Zeus and Athena, kayaking in Louisiana’s inter-coastal waterways, or curled up on the couch with a good book.

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