Sidetracked
Lauren Alsten
Published by: Changeling Press
Publication date: December 31st 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Librarian Allison Callahan, aka “Encyclopedia Allie,” has always loved her steadfast and dependable best friend Dane. She’s just never admitted it to anyone, including herself. But Dane keeps trying to kiss her, and it’s changing their relationship status from friend-zone to danger-zone. Sure, Allie wants more, but what if Dane finds out she likes her hanky panky with a side of spanky?

He’ll freak, that’s what. So she rebuffs his advances, tries to shake things up… and unbeknownst to him, discovers one of his best-kept secrets.

Meanwhile, Dane is so frustrated he fantasizes about taking Allie over his lap. A good spanking would serve her right for refusing to acknowledge what they both already know: they’re perfect for each other. But he’s so busy trying to make partner at his law firm, he doesn’t notice something’s a bit off about his bestie.

Between the shock of the secret she never knew and her lukewarm launching of the library’s virtual book club, Allie’s ready to let loose. At her and Dane’s high school reunion, it’s clear they’re ready to take the next step, but after a red-hot night of lust and love, will the next morning’s Walk of Shame ruin everything?

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—

EXCERPT:

My track record with men in general is sketchy, and with Dane specifically, it’s abysmal. One visit to his frat house at Harvard proved we weren’t meant to be. My teenage crush on Criss Angel came in handy, because nobody suspected I faked throwing back four shots. Only the fifth one was real, and I gagged. Malört is evil. I started acting tipsy, figuring it was now or never. I sat next to Dane, tried to French kiss him, and when that didn’t work, went for broke, pitching face-first into his crotch. Told him I wanted to lick his Danesicle. Disgusted, he picked me up and put me to bed — alone. I left him a note in the wee hours (claiming Malört Memory of the prior night’s events) and slunk back home to die a private death of mortification.

I used to think I was a prude, but after that, I knew Dane is the most sexually conservative person I’ve ever met. Even the word sex makes him cough and sputter. Tara’s extremely open, I’m more the “keep it under wraps,” type, and Dane — well, even his current bedroom furniture is prudish and perfunctory. Square, plain. Mission-style. As in “missionary.”

For now, I drag my mind out of the gutter and prop myself up with a pillow. Watching him sort and pack soothes me, his biceps flexing under the weight of heavy law books he’s dumping into random boxes. The sight of his corded forearms, the biceps hiding inside his tight Henley, the curve of his muscular thighs filling out his jeans. All these things turn me on, but tonight my heart races because I really need to sell Dane on the reunion thing. I don’t want to play the loner librarian, especially if Thomas shows. Overthinking is my specialty, so I swallow the lump of reticence to cue up my rehearsed Reunion Ruse. By the looks of it, I’m not the only one about to take a chance.

Dane is going to try to kiss me again. He always angles for a peck, usually on the cheek, and he’s predictable as ever: his face gets this dopey, hopeful expression, followed by the twitch of his left eyelid. It’s kind of cute, considering.

Mr. Twitchy would freak if he knew how sexually conservative I’m not. To him, I’m still Encyclopedia Allie, strait-laced, straight-A and headed straight for 2.25 kids in a white picket fence suburbia. Dane would never look at me the same again knowing I have less-than-vanilla preferences, and while I don’t think spanking is that strange, he would. People who color outside the lines, like my sister, make him uncomfortable. If he knew my preferences, he’d run. And if he did? I’d die.

So Dane trying to kiss me? Not going to happen. I love him too much as a friend. To him, I’m a nice, vanilla girl, and I want to stay that way, even if it means one day seeing him with someone else.

I still fantasize about him taking me over his lap and whipping my ass to a cherry red, though. I just keep that freaky little fantasy to myself.

Dane grabs two handfuls of books from one box and dumps them into another. He’s trying not to make his machinations obvious, but I know he’s just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He’s always so damn polite. But as organized and fastidious as the man is, he doesn’t know jack about weight distribution.

“You should split your legal library into smaller boxes so they’re not as heavy.”

Dane snickers, lifting the large box laden with neatly stacked statute books inside. The box bottoms out before he hits the hallway. At this rate, the movers won’t have much to move come Sunday, because it will still all be in piles on the floor.

“Don’t even say it.”

I ignore him. “I told you so.”

With his hands on his hips, Dane acts like he’s mad. His steel-blue eyes narrow. It’s a ruse. He does hate to admit he’s wrong, but instead of grouching, he pauses. Wrings his hands, approaches the bed slowly. I meet his gaze, and his eye starts its preemptive twitch. Here we go.

Author Bio:

When she’s not obsessing over her latest characters and dreaming up meet-cutes for future books, Lauren Alsten loves photographing wildlife while hiking under a warm sun and bright blue skies. Her writing journey began with A-list movie star fan fiction, but these days she prefers penning humorous tales of emotional upheaval served with a side of snark. She currently lives with two ungrateful cats who never lift a paw to help around the house.

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A Holiday Haunting at the Biltmore
Eva Pohler
(The Mystery House Series, #8)
Publication date: January 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Horror, Mystery

Ellen should have known that a gathering in America’s last castle would entail a few uninvited guests.

During a Christmas eve wedding at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, Ellen and her friends are visited by multiple ghosts. The spirits have come to tell their stories, to right the wrongs that history has done to their memories. Each of them died in Asheville with their voices stifled. One spirit is particularly adamant and threatening, despite her small size, and her mood fluctuates like the mountain winds surrounding the great estate. She claims to be the ghost of Zelda Fitzgerald, and she wants her story told, even if she has to kill to make it happen.

*Although this is book eight in The Mystery House Series, these books can be read in any order.

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—

EXCERPT:

Chapter One: Hot Tub Musings

Ellen clung to the handrail as she eased down the steps into the hot, bubbling water. She adjusted her black one-piece bathing suit, making sure she was still covered. The aquafit class had rearranged everything.

From behind her, Sue said, “I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tanya said from where she was already resting in the tub.

Ellen sat across from her. “Speak for yourself. I could barely breathe.”

Sue followed Ellen through the water, the ruffles of her polka dotted bathing suit dancing on the surface. “I may have even died for a few minutes. I thought I saw a light at the end of a tunnel and my mother waving to me.”

“That was probably just the Nazi instructor on deck telling you to lift your knees higher,” Ellen teased.

Two other women from the aquafit class, both in their early seventies, joined Ellen and her friends.

“That instructor isn’t as good as the one on Tuesdays,” one of them, a petite woman with white hair, said. She was nearly as thin as Tanya.

The other woman, rounder than Ellen but not as round as Sue, nodded. “The one on Tuesday really works you.”

“Oh, Lord.” Sue pushed her dark brown bangs from her eyes. “Let’s not come on Tuesday.”

“We already agreed that we would,” Tanya pointed out. “At least until the wedding.”

Ellen tugged at her shoulder straps, trying to keep everything in the right place. “You can count on me. I’m determined to lose twenty pounds or die trying.”

Sue scoffed. “Well, maybe I love life more than you.”

“If that were true,” the petite woman with the white hair began, “you’d keep coming. I’ve been doing this for over thirty years. I used to be bigger than both of you combined.”

The woman pointed at Ellen and Sue. Ellen tried not to be offended. The audacity of some people, she thought.

“I’m sold!” Sue said comedically, lifting her finger high in the air. “Sign me up! Oh, that’s right. Tanya already did.”

The other women laughed, and Ellen’s mood lightened.

“Did I hear you say that you have a wedding coming up?” the rounder woman asked Tanya.

“Not my wedding,” Tanya said as her blue eyes widened. “It’s Ellen’s son. He’s getting married on Christmas eve at the Biltmore Estate.”

“Oh, how nice,” the petite woman said. “That’s the most beautiful house in the country.”

Ellen leaned against the lip of the tub and breathed in the smell of lavender and musk. “That’s what my son’s future in-laws say, too. They’ve been planning this wedding since their daughter was a baby, I think.”

“Are they from Asheville then?” the petite one asked.

“They live there,” Sue said. Then, turning to Ellen, she asked, “Is it the mother that’s related to the Vanderbilts?”

“Yes,” Ellen said.

“Which means they’re getting the works,” Sue gloated. “The entire wedding party and their guests will be staying at the Biltmore House, which is never done anymore.”

Ellen gave Sue her keep-your-mouth-shut look. Maya’s parents had asked them not to talk about the event with others. They wanted to avoid a media circus.

“How wonderful,” the petite woman said. “You sure you don’t need another grandmother to come?”

Ellen smiled but said nothing in reply.

“That sounds like a once in a lifetime experience.” The round woman climbed from the tub. “I hope you enjoy it, and have a nice weekend, ladies.”

“You, too,” Ellen said as Sue and Tanya waved.

“I should go, too,” the petite woman said. “Will I see you all on Tuesday?”

“We’ll be here.” Tanya turned to Sue. “Right?”

Sue shrugged. “We shall see.”

After the two women left, and she and her friends were alone in the hot tub, Ellen said, “Poor Lane is so stressed over this wedding.”

“I thought that was the job of the bride,” Sue said.

Tanya stood up. “It can be hard on the groom, too. Poor thing. What’s been the most stressful for him?”

Ellen sighed. “Maya’s grandparents. Both sets are still alive, and, apparently, one set can’t stand the other, and vice versa.”

Sue furrowed her brows. “Do you know why?”

“Lane doesn’t know the whole story. The grandfathers were friends long before Maya’s parents were born. According to Maya, they can be really nasty when forced to be in the same room.”

“That’s too bad,” Tanya said as she took her damp blonde hair from its ponytail, and then remade it higher on her head. “I hope they won’t ruin the wedding.”

Ellen’s stomach clenched. She wanted Lane’s wedding day to be perfect for him so that only happy memories would be made.

“I would think the setting alone would be enough to sweeten even the sourest grapes of the bunch,” Sue said reassuringly.

Ellen lifted her brows. “I hope you’re right.”

“Is it Maya’s maternal grandfather or grandmother that’s related to the Vanderbilts?” Tanya asked.

Ellen submerged to her neck. She let out a small gasp of pleasure as the hot water relaxed her muscles, tight from the workout. Then she said, “Grandmother. Melissa Dresden—used to be Brown. She’s the daughter to a cousin of George Vanderbilt, the one who made it all happen. I just read a book about it called The Last Castle by Denise Kiernan. It was interesting to read about the estate’s history. George fell in love with Asheville when he took his ailing mother there to breathe.”

“To what?” Tanya asked.

“To breathe,” Ellen repeated. “Back then, they believed fresh air was the cure for almost everything—especially tuberculosis—and Asheville had become known for its breathing porches that overlooked the beautiful Blue Ridge and Smoky Mountains.”

“George’s mother had tuberculosis?” Sue asked. “Most people didn’t survive it.”

“No, she had malaria, and she recovered from it, but not before George fell in love with the area and began buying up all the land.”

“What year was this?” Tanya asked.

“Late 1800s,” Ellen said. “According to the book, George wasn’t interested in the family business like his two older brothers, who took over various railroad companies when their father died. George was more of a scholar. He loved to read and to collect art, and he wanted something different for himself. So, he decided to outdo his siblings by building the largest private home in America.”

Sue nodded. “That he did.”

“It was more than that, though, wasn’t it?” Tanya asked. “Didn’t he build a famous dairy?”

“Yes—though now it’s a winery. He also hired the best forester and horticulturalist and created a forest preserve and foresters’ school. Later, his wife Edith, who outlived him by many years, created a school for the villagers that focused on textiles and crafts, I believe. Apparently, Edith did a lot for Asheville. I think she was the real heart of Biltmore, only because George died young. They had a daughter named Cornelia, but, according to the book, she was never as devoted to Biltmore as her mother.”

“How old was George when he died?” Sue asked.

“Early fifties, I think. Younger than us.”

“Can you believe I turn sixty next year?” Tanya asked.

“Already?” Sue covered her face with her hands. “I’m right behind you.”

“Brian’s sixty-two, and he’s fine,” Ellen pointed out. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Sue said.

“That’s too bad about Maya’s grandparents,” Tanya said. “I really hope they behave themselves at the wedding.”

“Me, too.” Ellen sighed and leaned back on the lip of the tub. “Lane says that Maya’s Vanderbilt grandmother was originally engaged to Maya’s other grandfather, and that’s why the two sets of grandparents don’t get along. One man stole the Vanderbilt bride from the other.”

“Must be hard for the grandmother who isn’t a Vanderbilt,” Sue pointed out. “She might feel like chopped liver. Don’t you think?”

“I know I would, in her situation,” Tanya said. “How selfish of her husband that he can’t let it go.”

“Lane doesn’t think that’s the whole story,” Ellen said. “I just hope they can be civil for the sake of their granddaughter.”

“And for the rest of us,” Tanya added.

Sue shrugged. “I don’t know. Drama at the Biltmore might be fun.”

“Don’t say that,” Ellen insisted. “I’m worried enough about the other encounters we may have while we’re there.”

“Did the book say the house is haunted?” Tanya asked.

“No, and when I asked the Biltmore wedding coordinator about it, she said that they weren’t allowed to discuss it.”

“It’s rumored to be.” Sue furrowed her brows again. “And if Biltmore employees have been warned against talking about it, then you know what that means.”

Tanya stretched her arms. “It’s a good thing we’re taking along some of our equipment.”

“I’m afraid not to,” Ellen said. “Ghosts have a way of finding us, and I don’t want to be caught unprepared.”

“They find us because we have the gift, and they can sense it,” Sue said.

“What do Lane and Maya think about it?” Tanya climbed up and sat on the edge of the tub with her legs in the water.

“I haven’t mentioned it to them,” Ellen admitted. “I’d like to keep any ghostly happenings away from the wedding, as much as possible.”

“Have you done any research, to learn if anyone has written about hauntings there?” Sue asked.

Ellen combed her fingers through her short, damp hair. “I’ve read about ghosts in Asheville, but very little is said about hauntings at the Biltmore. One book claimed that George Vanderbilt’s ghost is there.”

“I wonder what unfinished business a billionaire would have, that would keep him from moving on,” Tanya said.

Ellen climbed up and sat beside Tanya. “Hopefully, it’s only a rumor, and the wedding will go off without a hitch—worldly or otherwise.”

“I’m sure it will,” Tanya reassured her.

“We’ll find out in two months’ time,” Sue said. “That is, if we survive Aquafit.”

Ellen and Tanya looked at each other and grinned.

Author Bio:

After earning her Ph.D. in English and teaching writing and literature for over twenty years, Eva Pohler became a USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in multiple genres, including mysteries, thrillers, and young adult paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as “addictive” and “sure to thrill”–Kirkus Reviews.

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Text and Confused: It’s hate at first sight…
Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers
(An Accidentally in Love Story, #6)
Publication date: December 27th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Toni Capella always falls for the wrong guy—tattoos, muscles on top of muscles, and an inability to hold down a decent job. Since her last relationship went up in smoke, Toni’s vowed to only date men who wear suits to work. Expensive ones.
When her boss hires contractor Cooper Flint, Toni immediately strikes him off her list of potential love interests. Cooper embodies every bad boy trait there is. Besides, her eye is on Milton Rinks. Nice, sweet, and totally boring. Milton is not her regular which is why he’s perfect.

Toni insists she and Milton keep their budding relationship separate from work. She even suggests they do their initial courting via text, hoping that romantic interest will follow once she gets to know him better. There’s one problem. She starts to accidentally text Cooper, not Milton.

Cooper can’t figure out why Toni is so terrific via text and such a shrew in person. It’s one thing to keep her private and professional life separate, but she’s not even nice to him when she sees him in person.

Will Toni discover she’s falling for the wrong guy? Will she see past her misconceptions and give Cooper a chance? Will Cooper forgive Toni for throwing her drink in his face at Le Petite Brassierie ? Is this really the last book in the texting series?

Find out in the deliciously funny Text and Confused…

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

My mom’s other sisters have been equally involved in trying to help me find my one true love. Aunt Margie has been sending workmen to my apartment for the last month with false claims of leaky pipes and malfunctioning kitchen appliances. I caved and went out with one of the plumbers, but our relationship only lasted two dates. The guy loved to talk about his work and honestly, there’s only so much banter about clogged toilets I can stand. And during dinner, too.

Unbeknownst to me, Aunt Sheila started a Tinder profile in my name. She was swiping right, left, up, and down trying to find me a man. I went out with one guy believing he was my aunt’s neighbor. Things were going well until he mentioned a conversation we’d had online about blowup dolls.

That’s when I discovered he didn’t know who Sheila was and that she told him I’d be up for a threesome as long as the third party wasn’t human. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at her the same way again.

In addition to vowing to never go out on another setup, I’m determined to take my dating life into my own hands. I also decided to change my type (see item six on my list). As a lifelong admirer of working-class men—there’s something so fundamentally manly about a tight T-shirt covered in axle grease, grass stains, or whatever (I refuse to consider what was on the plumber’s T-shirt)—it stands to reason I must now avoid them at all costs.

In a bid to attract a different kind of guy, I decided to channel Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. I’m upgrading from a slick-haired, cheating, lying Alec Baldwin to a sweet, respectful Harrison Ford—à la Jack Trainer (if you’ve never seen this golden oldie romcom, do so now).

After New Year’s, I went out and blew a fortune on clothes I figured a classy woman would wear. No more plunging necklines and tight pants for me. From now on it’s modest dresses with conservative heels—no more drag queen shoes. I’ve also dialed down the amount of makeup I wear, and I’ve swapped out certain phrases in my vocabulary. My penchant for colorful language has been redirected. I now say things like, “Oh, dear, my word, and for heaven’s sake.”

So far the only men I’ve attracted have been a pair of nice young men who wondered if I’d heard about the Book of Mormon. But fear not, it’s early days. I’m sure there’s hope for me yet.

While turning off the cold water tap with my left foot and upping the hot with my right, I decide I can’t keep waiting for the man of my dreams to show up out of thin air. If I’m serious about changing my luck—and I am—I have to be willing to go out with someone who doesn’t make my heart beat like Ricky Ricardo playing the bongos. (I don’t care what generation you’re from, if you haven’t watched every episode of I Love Lucy by the time you’re twenty, you haven’t lived.)

My luck might be about to change. Tomorrow, Sumner Livingston, the fundraiser my boss hired for the foundation I work for, is going to pop by the office for his first meeting with us. I googled him earlier today, and I have to say the guy’s got potential. Clean cut, classic good looks, and a steady job at his family’s company. He grew up in Forest Hills, which means he’s likely well-educated and probably doesn’t catcall women on the street.

I couldn’t find any evidence of a significant other, so I’m putting him at the top of my list of potential future life partners. It’s a short list, consisting of him and Jack Trainer. Being that Jack Trainer is fictional, let’s hope Sumner is single and into me.

Author Bio:

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
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Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

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How to Cowboy
Jennie Marts
(Creedence Horse Rescue, #3)
Published by: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Publication date: December 28th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

For fans of Carolyn Brown, Maisey Yates, and Jennifer Ryan, this steamy, emotional cowboy romance has all your favorites:

• A hunky single dad showing his daughter the ropes
• A heroine looking for a fresh start
• Leaning on each other through hard times
• Irresistible attraction
• Rescue horses and ranch animals with lots of personality

How do you heal a broken heart?

After one injury too many, Cade Callahan gave up the rodeo for a simpler life working at his cousin’s horse rescue ranch. But his life turns upside down when his estranged daughter is placed in his custody after a tragic car accident. Wanting nothing to do with her father, thirteen-year-old Allie struggles to adjust to her new life.

Newly single and living out of her mother’s basement, physical therapist Nora Fisher doesn’t think twice about taking a job as a traveling therapist for Cade’s daughter. The trouble is, she doesn’t know anything about horses, or hunky cowboys. Now both in way over their heads, can Cade and Nora find a way to help Allie, and trust in the attraction building between them?

Praise for Jennie Marts:
“Full of hope, humor, and undeniable swoon.”—A.J. Pine, USA Today bestselling author
“Funny, complicated, and irresistible. Sometimes a cowboy isn’t perfect but you got to love him anyway.”—Jodi Thomas, New York Times bestselling author, for Caught Up in a Cowboy
“The perfect blend of humor, grit, and sexy cowboy spice. Delicious!”—Kari Lynn Dell, award-winning and bestselling author, for Wish Upon a Cowboy
“Deliciously steamy but still sweet, with a secret at its heart.”—Joanne Kennedy, award-winning and bestselling author, for Wish Upon a Cowboy

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—

EXCERPT:

Cade flinched at the sound of her bedroom door slamming. He leaned his shoulder against the side of the house and let out a sigh. “I don’t get it. What did I say?”

Nora put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. She’s a teenager, so her moods are going to be all over the place.”

“But I thought things were going so well. She was even laughing at lunch.”

“Which might be part of the problem. Remember, she just lost her mom and has been uprooted to this new place. She might feel guilty for having fun or for enjoying this farm—like if she starts to like you and Bryn too much, that it will be a betrayal to her mom.”

“You might be right.” He offered her a smile. “What’s that advice gonna cost me?”

She grinned up at him. “One baked ziti dinner.”

“Done. I’ll even throw in a slice of pie.” He tried to laugh, but the anguish of the situation was getting to him, and he dropped his chin to his chest. “Ya know, I consider myself a pretty tough guy, but this parenting stuff is rough.”

Nora took a step toward him. “I have to warn you that I’m a hugger by nature, and it’s killing me not to be able to offer you a hug. Like I’m totally comin’ in hot right now, so if you don’t want to be smothered in a hug, you need to stop me now.”

The idea of wrapping his arms around Nora had emotions burning his throat. Which was weird since his feelings toward women weren’t generally led by his heart. But something about this woman, with her sunny attitude and her giving nature was getting to him. He opened his arms, and she stepped into them and wrapped herself around him.

He let out his breath as she sunk into him, and he bent his head and buried his face in her hair. “You feel good,” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “I mean this feels good.”

“So do you,” she murmured into his chest.

She pulled back, but he wasn’t ready to let her go and kept his arms circled around her waist. She looked up at from under long eyelashes, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

There was something here. He knew it, and he was sure she did too. The electricity between them was almost visible as if it shimmered in the air. They’d been teasing and flirting and touching the last few days, but this felt different. This was more than playful flirtation.

He dropped his gaze to her mouth and wanted to groan. Her lips were plump and parted, as if just begging to be kissed.

He leaned down and softly grazed her lips with his—not quite a kiss but enough to feel the soft catch of her breath and the delicious enticement of her mouth.

“What’s this going to cost me?” he whispered, but he already knew the answer.

It was going to cost him everything.

Author Bio:

Jennie Marts is the USA TODAY Best-selling author of award-winning books filled with love, laughter, and always a happily ever after. Readers call her books “laugh out loud” funny and the “perfect mix of romance, humor, and steam.” Fic Central claimed one of her books was “the most fun I’ve had reading in years.”

She is living her own happily ever after in the mountains of Colorado with her husband, two dogs, and a parakeet that loves to tweet to the oldies. She’s addicted to Diet Coke, adores Cheetos, and believes you can’t have too many books, shoes, or friends.

Her books include the contemporary western romance Hearts of Montana series, the romantic comedy/ cozy mysteries of The Page Turners series, the hunky hockey-playing men in the Bannister family in the Bannister Brothers Books, and the small-town romantic comedies in the Lovestruck series of Cotton Creek Romances.

Jennie loves to hear from readers. Follow her on Facebook at Jennie Marts Books, or Twitter at @JennieMarts. Visit her at http://www.jenniemarts.com and sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest news and releases.

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