Perfectly You by Robin Daniels

Ivy Nixon is the student body Vice President at Franklin High School. Each year, the school holds a date auction to raise funds for the senior class graduation party, and this year, Ivy’s in charge. Planning the event is a huge task and Ivy is determined to prove she can get the job done right. Unfortunately, she’s still one participant short and her deadline is looming.

Andy Walker, her cute but socially reclusive art class table mate, is her last resort. He may not be popular, but he’s funny, talented, and full of surprises. With a makeover and some major social marketing, Ivy is sure he could fetch a decent price at the auction.

Andy reluctantly agrees to help, but the more time Ivy spends with him, the more her feelings shift from professional to romantic in nature. To top it off, she’s done her marketing so well, that other girls are starting to notice Andy too. Come auction time, will Ivy be able to let him go to the highest bidder? Or will she find a way to keep him for herself…

Content Description: This is a stand-alone YA contemporary romance with companion novels set at the same high school. It contains minor language, innuendo, and crude humor, some steamy kissing, a party scene where underage drinking is taking place, and a brief but tasteful conversation about sex. The author has attempted to write characters who make good choices in questionable situations, in effort to keep the content appropriate for teens. This book contains no sex, written or implied, and no explicit language. Recommended for ages 14 and up.

Excerpt

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” I lunged forward in an exaggerated show of gratitude and threw my arms around his waist, embracing him tightly. He flinched and tensed up for a moment. I’d caught him off guard. Eventually he relaxed and put one arm around me, awkwardly patting my back in some semblance of a hug.

For a moment, I forgot what I was doing and leaned into him. Wow, he smelled unbelievably good. Like soap and dryer sheets and something a little sharper that I couldn’t identify. I needed to ask him what cologne he wore, because it was incredible. I could smell him all day. Not to mention that his chest was a lot firmer than one would guess, since he hides it under baggy button-down shirts all the time.

Andy cleared his throat and I pulled away. He looked embarrassed again. He really needed to get over that, and I was going to help him, starting right now. “Sorry.” I grinned. “You smell amazing. Your cologne is yummy enough to eat. I could sit here and sniff you for the rest of the class.”

He choked on his spit and quickly put his fist over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Please don’t.” He was trying to sound horrified, but his face gave him away. He appreciated the compliment.

“Ok.” I threw my hands up in surrender. “But fair warning…if I’m having a bad day, I may lean over and smell your neck to induce a calming effect. When that happens, don’t punch me.”

Andy shook his head, bewildered by the turn our conversation had taken. “I’ll try not to punch you, if you decide to randomly press your face against my neck.”

“When you say it like that, I sound like a psycho stalker.”

“Psycho and stalker are your words, not mine. But, if the shoe fits…” He trailed off, and I smacked him on the arm.

“Ouch!” Andy rubbed the place I’d just hit. “I’m only kidding. I don’t think you’re a psycho stalker. I’ve never seen any indication that you’re a stalker. You’re more likely a plain old psycho.” He was grinning nice and big now, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

Review

I picked this book up today and could not put it down! Yes it is a YA book since the characters are seniors in high school, but they have the same sort of problems that everyone has in life. In this case it was Ivy discovering that her friend Andy might be more than what she expected. For Andy it might be that his crush on Ivy could come to fruition. There is also the typical drama you expect among teenagers…hey we were all one at one time or another!

I though Lilly was a hoot. She isn’t your typical kid and marches to her own drummer. She is not afraid to be the wacky one with how she dresses. Many could take lessons from her. It isn’t as if she doesn’t care…but she maybe cares a little less and is comfortable in her own skin.

Definitely worth a read!

About the Author

Robin Daniels is a wife, mother of five and avid consumer of books. She loves reading SO much that she was actually grounded from it as a twelve year old. No Joking! Her mom caught her reading when she was supposed to be cleaning, which was a common occurrence. At that point mom took the books and instructed her to go watch TV or play outside like a normal kid.

Robin is a sucker for home design shows and magazines, watches way too much Netflix and has a very codependent relationship with with a certain diet soda who’s brand shall not be named. (Though anyone with a similar problem could probably guess which one.)

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“Vivid and charming.”—CHARLAINE HARRIS, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

Synopsis

Injured in the line of duty,

His orders are simple:

Stay alive.

But when a frightened woman bursts into his life, Hugh and his K9 companion have no choice but to risk everything to keep her safe.

The sole witness to a horrific crime, Kaylee Ramay flees to the Colorado Rockies to start a new life. There she becomes Grace, a dog kennel employee desperately trying to avoid attention—especially from dangerously attractive K9 Officer Hugh Murdoch.

Because Hugh is tall, dark…and nothing but trouble.

Hugh is anxious to get back in the field after an act of heroism left him warming the bench. Until then, he and his K9 partner Lexi spend their hours teasing the town’s mysterious newcomer. But when their simmering attraction is nearly cut short by a sniper’s bullet, Hugh’s mystery woman must come clean about the secrets she keeps…

Or both of them will pay the price.

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Excerpt

The floor in the entry creaked, reminding Grace of her most urgent issue at the moment: someone was in the house. As quietly as possible, she started backing up. This was not a good room to be trapped in. The only door was the one into the hallway—where the intruder was. The large, central window was solid. The two smaller panes of glass beside it would reluctantly crank out a few inches, but definitely not wide enough to fit her entire body through.

Why had she hesitated when she first heard the knock? If she’d immediately headed for the back door, she’d already be far, far away. Now she was stuck.

Her gaze ran over the room, searching for hiding spots, but there weren’t any good ones. The closet was too obvious, but it would have to do. Maybe they wouldn’t bother searching.

As she hurried toward the small closet door, her heart thumped painfully against her ribs. It beat so loudly that it felt as if everyone still left in Monroe could hear the pounding.

“What are you doing?”

She whipped around, grabbing the first thing within reach to use as a weapon.

Hugh looked from her face to her hand with his usual expression of barely contained amusement—a look that aggravated Grace more every time she encountered him. Even the dog standing next to him looked entertained. “The mute button doesn’t work on me. Trust me. Others have tried.”

There was still so much residual fear flooding through her body that Grace had a hard time understanding what he meant. She followed his gaze to the improvised weapon in her hand and realized that she was pointing the television remote at him. As her panic started to abate, anger took its place, along with a healthy dose of embarrassment.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, allowing her arm to drop back to her side.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.

“What?” It was almost a screech. Grace blamed residual nerves…and the fact that Hugh was truly aggravating. “I live here!”

“Jules said you were job hunting today.” She opened her mouth, but he spoke again before she could ask how that justified him breaking into her house. “Why didn’t you open the door when I knocked?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You came in because you thought I wasn’t here? What were you going to do? Go through my stuff?”

The guilty look that flashed over his face disappeared quickly, but she still caught it. “You were!” Another thought occurred to her, and she almost growled. “How did you get in?”

His expression of pure innocence just made her suspicions double. “What do you mean? The door was unlocked.”

“No, it wasn’t. I definitely remember locking—”

“Hey!” he interrupted, his attention on the TV screen. “Is this the Tattered Hearts where Tatiana realizes that Natasha and Jorge are scheming against her?”

“What? I don’t know. I’ve never watched this show.”

“You’ve never seen Tattered Hearts?” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the couch. Bemused by the sudden topic shift, she sat. “You are missing out. It’s the best show ever.”

Hugh plopped his oversized self on the couch right next to Grace, jostling her. He was so big, a wall of heat and muscle and sexiness—whoa. She shut down that thought abruptly. His dog stretched out in front of them, her furry head resting on Grace’s foot, which was comforting and kind of nice. She scowled and briefly considered telling Hugh to leave—although the dog could stay—but Grace was curious why he was so obsessed with this soap. Besides, as annoying as Hugh could be, arguing with him kept her mind off Martin Jovanovic. She honestly didn’t want to be in this big, creaky house alone anymore, especially after having the snot scared out of her, so she settled in to watch.

“Wait,” she said after a few minutes. “So the guy with the waxed chest—”

“Jorge.”

“So Jorge is cheating on the woman with the scary eyebrows—”

“Tatiana.”

“Jorge is cheating on Tatiana with the lizard-faced woman?”

“Natasha.”

“Why?” Keeping her gaze locked on the television, Grace made a face. “Tatiana is so much hotter, and Natasha is all about the drama. That gets so tiring.”

“I know.” Hugh sighed. “Jorge’s an idiot.”

“Yeah. He is.” Although she wanted to talk more about Jorge’s poor life choices, Grace went quiet so she could watch the show. As the soap continued, she found herself leaning forward, fascinated despite herself.

“Oh. My. God.” Grace clapped a hand over her mouth in shocked glee as a commercial filled the small screen. “Did Tatiana actually tell Jorge about the secret baby?”

“I know, right? Natasha knew all along, too.” Hugh shook his head and tsked. “Just wait. Javier—”

“Stop! No spoilers!” Lunging toward him and laughing, Grace clapped a hand over his mouth. As soon as she made contact, she froze. His skin was warm—almost hot—and his cheeks as stubbly as his lips were smooth. Grace stared at him. What was she doing? This was Hugh, a cop who was so suspicious of her that he’d broken into her house to dig through her things. Why was she flirting with him?

Realizing that she was still touching him, Grace started to yank her arm back, but he caught her hand before she could pull it away. He gave it a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

“What—”

“The show’s on,” Hugh interrupted. “Hush, or you’ll miss it.”

Watching Tattered Hearts was more important than smacking him down for shushing her, so Grace settled against the sofa cushions and tried to ignore the annoying, muscle-bound cop sharing the couch with her. She couldn’t deny how nice it was to have him there, though. It made her feel a little less alone.

Grace felt herself relaxing for the first time in over a week. With a relieved sigh, she let herself enjoy the warmth of Hugh’s shoulder so close to hers and the comfort of his presence. She got caught up in the drama of Tatiana, Jorge, and Natasha, and forgot about anyone with the name Jovanovic for a little while.

About the Author

When she’s not writing, KATIE RUGGLE rides horses, shoots guns, and travels to warm places where she can SCUBA dive. Graduating from the Police Academy, Katie received her ice-rescue certification and can attest that the reservoirs in the Colorado Mountains really are that cold. While she still misses her off-the-grid, solar- and wind-powered house in the Rocky Mountains, she now lives in Rochester, Minnesota near her family.

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THE CURSE OF SACERDOZIO

A Tale of Judicial Conspiracy

The Supremes, Book 1

by

GLEN AARON

  Genre: Thriller / Suspense / Mystery

Publisher: BookBaby

Date of Publication: June 1, 2017

Number of Pages: 275

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In​ ​Supreme​ ​Court​ ​books,​ ​there​ ​is​ ​seldom​ ​the​ ​intrigue​ ​of​ ​murder​ ​and​ ​of​ ​crime​ ​and​ ​punishment within​ ​the​ ​chambers.​ ​The​ ​Curse​ ​of​ ​Sacerdozio​ ​takes​ ​the​ ​death​ ​of​ ​Justice​ ​Antonin​ ​Scalia​ ​on​ ​a fictional​ ​journey​ ​that​ ​keeps​ ​you​ ​turning​ ​pages.​ ​As​ ​President​ ​Trump​ ​takes​ ​power,​ ​this​ ​tale​ ​raises questions​ ​about​ ​what​ ​influences​ ​drive​ ​him​ ​in​ ​judicial​ ​appointments,​ ​while​ ​at​ ​the​ ​same​ ​time entertaining​ ​the​ ​reader​ ​in​ ​a​ ​political​ ​and​ ​legal​ ​thriller.

The​ ​issues​ ​of​ ​abortion, ​ ​marriage,​ ​and​ ​the​ ​conduct​ ​of​ ​Supreme​ ​Court​ ​Justices​ ​wrapped​ ​in judicial​ ​conspiracy​ ​to​ ​control​ ​the​ ​Court​ ​and​ ​Congress​ ​come​ ​into​ ​stark​ ​conflict.​ ​The​ ​power​ ​of​ ​the church​ ​and​ ​motivated​ ​thinking​ ​highly​ ​organized​ ​pressure​ ​groups​ ​like​ ​the​ ​Federalist​ ​Society​ ​and Opus​ ​Dei​ ​are​ ​revealed​ ​in​ ​this​ ​plot​ ​driven​ ​novel.

While​ ​the​ ​story​ ​of​ ​the​ ​protagonist,​ ​Tommy​ ​Jon,​ ​is​ ​a​ ​success​ ​story​ ​within​ ​itself,​ ​as​ ​he​ ​is​ ​the​ ​first Jicarilla​ ​Apache​ ​to​ ​graduate​ ​from​ ​Harvard​ ​Law​ ​School​ ​and​ ​clerk​ ​for​ ​a​ ​Supreme​ ​Court​ ​Justice, his​ ​downfall​ ​is​ ​in​ ​contesting​ ​the​ ​judicial​ ​philosophy​ ​of​ ​Justice​ ​Sacerdozio.​ ​When​ ​the​ ​judge​ ​is found​ ​dead​ ​floating​ ​in​ ​a​ ​hot​ ​mineral​ ​pool​ ​on​ ​a​ ​ranch​ ​retreat​ ​in​ ​West​ ​Texas,​ ​Tommy​ ​Jon becomes​ ​a​ ​target​ ​of​ ​the​ ​FBI​ ​in​ ​suspicion​ ​of​ ​murder.​ ​The​ ​climax​ ​of​ ​the​ ​novel​ ​is​ ​his​ ​trial​ ​in​ ​the Federal​ ​District Court​ ​in​ ​El​ ​Paso.

Underlying​ ​the​ ​plot,​ ​the​ ​reader​ ​will​ ​realize​ ​a​ ​serious​ ​concern​ ​about​ ​just​ ​who​ ​President​ ​Trump really​ ​is.​ ​The​ ​political​ ​conspiracy​ ​that​ ​has​ ​brought​ ​the​ ​religious​ ​right​ ​and​ ​the​ ​judiciary​ ​together​ ​is unfolding​ ​and​ ​coming​ ​to​ ​fruition,​ ​now,​ ​in​ ​Washington.​ ​The​ ​Curse​ ​Of​ ​Sacerdozio​ ​is​ ​fictional​ ​in​ ​its tale​ ​but​ ​realistic​ ​in​ ​its​ ​revelations.

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Praise for The Curse of Sacerdozio

“The Curse of Sacerdozio: A Tale of Judicial Conspiracy rings through with originality, a story that will have readers gripped from beginning to end.” – Romuald Dzemo for Readers’ Favorite

“The characters are all wonderful, and some are more than what they seem.” – Jay Snook

“Aaron has done his research!” – Jenn Jilks, Cottage Country Reflections

“The novel entertains as it educates allowing the reader to be both intrigued and informed.” – The Nerdy Girl Express

“Aaron displays a knack for describing and creating emotion in any event.” — Sharon Kurack, StarryMag

Glen Aaron was born in Big Spring, Texas and raised in Midland. In 1962, while attending Baylor, he ran for State Representative from Midland at he age of 21. He lost that election in a runoff by 42 votes. Deciding politics was not for him, he graduated Baylor with a BA and moved on to the University of Texas law school. There, he won the Moot Court competition arguing before the Supreme Court of Texas sitting en banc. After acquiring his JD, Glen spent forty years in trial law and international business and banking. Today, he lives in Midland with his wife Jane Hellinghausen and two rottweilers. He enjoys writing and working with the Permian Basin Bookies. Author of: The Ronnie Lee and Jackie Bancroft Spencer Morgan Story, a tale of people, greed, envy, manipulation — even crime; The Colonel George Trofimoff Story, the tale of America’s highest ranking military officer convicted of spying; The Prison Experience; The Prison People.

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Three Signed Copies of The Curse of Sacerdozio

September 6 – 15, 2017

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15-Sep	Promo	Books and Broomsticks

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Synopsis

Allie Navarro can’t wait to show her best friends the app she built at CodeGirls summer camp. CLICK’D pairs users based on common interests and sends them on a fun (and occasionally rule-breaking) scavenger hunt to find each other. And it’s a hit. By the second day of school, everyone is talking about CLICK’D.

Watching her app go viral is amazing. Leaderboards are filling up! Everyone’s making new friends. And with all the data Allie is collecting, she has an even better shot at beating her archenemy, Nathan, at the upcoming youth coding competition. But when Allie discovers a glitch that threatens to expose everyone’s secrets, she has to figure out how to make things right, even if that means sharing the computer lab with Nathan. Can Allie fix her app, stop it from doing any more damage, and win back the friends it hurt-all before she steps on stage to present CLICK’D to the judges?

New York Times best-selling author Tamara Ireland Stone combines friendship, coding, and lots of popcorn in her fun and empowering middle-grade debut.

Review

I LOVED this book on many levels. I loved that the author is a computer geek and brings that out in her main character, Allie. Allie is only 12 but has already created an app that could take off by leaps and bounds and help those awkward new students at school find friends. Allie has been coding programs for several years by this point and I think that message to all young women out there is a strong one = that math and sciences are just as easy for females to conquer as their male counterparts.

But beyond that message, there is also a message about friendship. That no app can truly decide who your best friends will be or who you will “click” with via this app, but it is a start especially in an unfamiliar situation. It is also about perseverance and working hard to get where you are in life, even at the age of 12.

I would recommend this book to any young woman 10 and up (possibly a bit younger) and even to adults like myself so that we can continue to encourage young women in STEM.

We give it 5 paws up

About the Author

TAMARA IRELAND STONE is the author of Time and Time Again, a collection of her two novels Time Between Us and Time After Time, and the New York Times best seller Every Last Word.

A Silicon Valley-native, she has worked in the technology industry all her life, first testing Atari game boards in her parents’ garage, and later, co-founding a woman-owned marketing strategy firm, where she worked with small startups as well as some of the world’s largest software companies. She enjoys skiing, music, movies, and spending time with her husband and two children. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Want a chuckle?  Check out the Top 10 things about Tamara

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Murder Wears Mittens (Seaside Knitters Society)
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Kensington (August 29, 2017)
Hardcover: 272 pages
ISBN-13: 978-1496711021
E-Book ASIN: B01MSVCTH9

Synopsis

As autumn washes over coastal Sea Harbor, Massachusetts, the Seaside Knitters anticipate a relaxing off-season. But when murder shatters the peace, the craftiest bunch in town must unravel a killer’s deadly scheme . . .

After retrieving fresh lobster nets from a local Laundromat, Cass Halloran rushes to attend a last-minute gathering with her knitting circle. But Cass can’t stop worrying about the lonely boy seen hanging around the dryers, and the school uniform he left behind in a hurry. When the ladies return the lost clothing the next day, they find the child and his younger sister alone, seemingly abandoned by their mother . . .

The knitters intend to facilitate a family reunion, not investigate a crime. But the death of Dolores Cardozo, a recluse from the edge of town, throws the group for a loop. Especially when the missing mother and one of their own become tied to the victim’s hidden fortune—and her murder . . .

Before scandalous secrets break bonds and rumors tear Sea Harbor apart, the Seaside Knitters need to string together the truth about Dolores—while preventing a greedy murderer from making another move!

* Includes a knitting pattern *

Guest Post

Cooking and Writing…without an end in sight.

Sally Goldenbaum

I love to cook. It’s right up there with hiking in the Rockies, knitting, and walking along an ocean beach with a grandchild. My concerns and anxieties seem to melt away with the feel of a soft little hand in mine, the  sound of waves, the smell of pines — and butter in a hot frying pan.

But it was only recently, when my husband suggested that I cook the way I write mysteries, that I started thinking about my cooking in another way.

“Hmm,” I said. “I do? How?”

“Think about it,” Don said. “You start out telling me, ‘There’s nothing in the house. What should I make?’ Then you open the frig doors and stare inside for a while, one foot tapping the floor. But finally, magically, a tasty meal lands on the table, even though you didn’t have a clue what you were going to make.”

I thought about that. He might have something—about my cooking, anyway. Last night was one of those nights. I searched the cupboard, then stared into the refrigerator. A chicken breast. A bunch of kale. A sweet potato and a lonely apple. I liked the color combination, but the taste? But after a little more rummaging, I found enough to move ahead, adding, subtracting, tasting, checking the frig once more. The end result: a mounded salad of kale with nuts, apple chunks and a few other things mixed in, all tossed in olive oil and lemon juice. Chopped and roasted sweet potato and sautéed chicken slices went on top. Tasty. Even healthy.

But my husband wasn’t through.

“Okay, now think of this new book. When you started writing Murder Wears Mittens you claimed you didn’t have much to feed a mystery—a scene in a Laundromat with a little kid and the seaside knitters characters. The profile of a woman in a NYT’s book of obituaries that you couldn’t seem to let go of.”

Disparate ingredients. That’s what I had. Just like my salad. Admittedly, my goal for the meal and the novel had similarities: combine it all so it would be engaging, interesting, appealing to the senses—and have some surprises tucked in. And in the end, I definitely always want to satisfy eaters AND readers’ appetites.

“Your processes were similar, too,” he went on. (My husband, as you may have guessed, is analytical.) “Trying one thing and another, going back and adding ingredients, tasting, adding again. Exactly what you do with the mysteries. Write a few scenes, then go back and add some things. Smoothing out.”

Of course no comparisons are perfect, but he had a point.

I’ve always been a pantser as far as my writing goes—I fly by the seat of my pants. And sure enough, maybe I cook that way too. It seems to work for me, even though now and then a recipe would be nice.

It’s true in writing too. Sometimes I’m a wannabe plotter when I’m writing. It would have been nice to have known early on what the recluse in Murder Wears Mittens had in mind when she hid dollar bills all over her house.  Or why a young boy left his clothes in the dryer and then ran off as if he’d committed a crime. And where, oh where, was the boy’s mother? But the only way I could find the answers was to keep writing. And hope. (Along with a dash of faith. . .)

And likewise, wouldn’t it be nice to know exactly what I needed to make a perfect meal each night? Or what it was going to taste like when I was finished?

Or would the planning and plotting take a little bit out of the mystery of discovery, the magic of cooking, the joy of writing? I think the jury is still out on that. The only thing I know for sure is that we all march to our own drummer. No method fits all.

But I do think my husband’s observation of the two methods has some merit. Which reminds me. It’s six o’clock, and I have no idea what to make for dinner.

Nor about what Nell, Birdie, Izzy, and Cass are going to do in chapter four of the next Seaside Knitters Society novel when a familiar body is found in a seaside home.

It’s all a mystery.

And my thanks to you for stopping by.

About the Author

Sally Goldenbaum was born on the shores of Lake Michigan, in Manitowoc, WI, to a homemaker mother and a ship-building father. Although she now lives in landlocked Prairie Village, KS, her longing for lakes and the sea is satisfied in part by writing the USA Today bestselling Seaside Knitters Mystery series, set on Cape Ann, MA. She is a sometime philosophy teacher, a knitter, and an editor, and the author of more than thirty novels. Her fictional knitting friends are teaching her the intricacies of women’s friendship, the mysteries of small-town living, and the very best way to pick up dropped stitches on a lacy knit shawl.

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MAYBE I DO by Nicole McLaughlin

Published by St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Publication Date: August 29, 2017

 

Synopsis

“Nicole McLaughlin is a wonderfully fresh voice in contemporary romance—sweet, sexy, and immensely satisfying.”—Lauren Layne, New York Times bestselling author

She doesn’t believe in fairy tales. He’s married to his job. Maybe whiskey is the secret ingredient that will bring them together—and give true love a shot?

Wedding photographer Charlotte Linley loves her work—even though she hates weddings. Sure, she still holds a grudge after being left at the altar by her high-school sweetheart. But today Charlotte is just happy to have complete control over her career, which is flourishing. Especially since she joined forces with one of the three gorgeous owners of The Stag, a boutique distillery that has become Kansas City’s hottest wedding venue.

Dean Troyer, bitter after the end of his own marriage, knows that Charlotte is the real deal—beautiful, talented, and successful. He may flirt with her every time she comes to The Stag but Dean is determined to keep his professional distance. . .particularly now that she’s helping him with his own sister’s wedding. The only problem? The more time Dean spends with Charlotte, the deeper their connection grows. Is this a rom-com cliché or could it be that these two jaded souls in the wedding business have finally found their real-life happily ever after?

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Excerpt

“One, two, three, go!” Charlotte called. The bouquet shot into the air as the front bridesmaid soared into a jump that would make a basketball star envious. All the while Charlotte’s shutter rapidly took frame after frame. As the bridesmaid landed, stems in hand, someone else’s arm flung into her face, effectively startling her and sending the flowers to the floor. A third woman—somewhat older—surprised all the bystanders by quickly swiping it off the floor.

Charlotte laughed as she took a shot with the bride and the gloating bouquet winner, and then immediately got back into position as the DJ started up “Another One Bites the Dust” for the garter removal. She inwardly groaned. This guy needed some new material.

When the groom was done sticking his head under the bride’s skirt and making a spectacle of himself, he lined up, ready to send the little scrap of lace and elastic into the—somewhat small—mass of young men.

“You ever notice how the guys always look as if they’re participating under duress?” a deep familiar voice said close to Charlotte’s ear. Goose bumps rose on her neck and arms.

She grinned but didn’t lower the camera from her eye. The music and conversation in the room were loud enough that she knew they wouldn’t be heard. “Can’t say that I blame them.”

The words had come out without any thought and Charlotte really wished she could see Dean’s reaction to them, but the groom released the garter right at that moment. The male recipients were nowhere as enthusiastic as the ladies had been, but one guy did reach out and snag it, almost as a reflexive action.

Yep, the shocked look on his face said that’s exactly what it had been, and he glanced around like he wanted someone to throw it at.

Charlotte laughed and looked at Dean. “He looks like he’s wishing he’d sat this one out right about now.”

“Yes he does.” Dean crossed his arms and smirked as Charlotte stepped forward to set up the customary shot of the groom and the reluctant garter catcher.

She was happy to find that Dean was still waiting for her on the edge of the dance floor when she was finished.

“I’ve missed talking to you tonight,” she said.

One corner of his lips quirked up. “You have?” His tone was all teasing, but she could have sworn there was a hint of uncertainty. Surely he knew she was into him.

“Of course. I would assume it was because you were busy, but you had time to talk with black dress lady for a long time.”

“Charlotte,” he whispered, shaking his head. One of his go-to body movements when they spoke. He huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Well, you can start by not making me so jealous.”

His eyes flicked to hers, his lips parting. She could tell he wanted to respond, that her words had taken him by surprise. She continued to watch him as the music filled in the silence between them. It was hard to believe she’d let the teasing between them just go where it had, but she didn’t really regret it. She liked this man, and she’d done everything she could to tell him that except physically coming on to him. Was that what she needed to do? Finally, he appeared to mentally shake off her comment, his lips pursing as he inhaled a deep breath. Damn.

“How much longer are you here?” he asked.

She pulled out her phone and grimaced at the time. “Over an hour.”

He nodded. “Can you spare me a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Oh God. He was going to finally make a move. She could feel it. Her brazen comment about jealousy had worked.

Or maybe he was going to finally let her down easy. Shit.

She swallowed. “Of course. I’d love that.”

Following him toward the bar, Charlotte caught Lauren’s attention and sent her an I’ll-be-right-back look. Lauren nodded but Charlotte could see the curiosity written all over her friend’s face.

Dean stepped behind the bar, grabbed a pint glass, and proceeded to fill it with ice, lemon-lime soda, and then the tiniest splash of grenadine. Her favorite, and she couldn’t help melting inside that he always remembered. She couldn’t decide if it was a good sign or not. He slid it across the bar to her and then angled his head toward the little break room. Suddenly panicked, Charlotte dug in the bottom of her bag for a piece of gum and stuffed it into her mouth.

Dean stepped into the room and held the door open for Charlotte. She followed and then turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest.

But instead of walking toward her, he headed for the sofa. “Have a seat.”

“Oh, okay.” She did just that, and when she sat down, he took the sofa across from her.

Ouch. Definitely not a good sign. Was he … mad at her? First she’d embarrassed him with the sexy photos, and then she’d just now crossed the line with the jealousy comment. Oh shit. He was totally going to confront her about it.

“So, first I should apologize for what I said out there. That was so completely inappropriate and I should have known better,” she blurted.

Dean froze, his eyes meeting hers. “What are you talking about?”

“When I said you should stop making me jealous. I was out of line and I—”

Dean began to chuckle. “Did you think that’s what I brought you in here to say?”

Charlotte exhaled, relief washing over her. “Yes. I did.”

He grinned. “Charlotte, I’m going to be the one to cross the line here when I say … my … inappropriate conversations with you are my favorite thing about working weddings here.”

“They are?” she asked with a smile.

“They are. In fact, I probably like them a little too much.”

Okay. That wasn’t great. So, while it was a relief he hadn’t brought her to this room to confront her, it also sucked he hadn’t brought her here to make out. “Then what did you need to talk to me about?”

He reached up and scratched at the back of his neck before leaning his elbows on his knees. “It’s actually something I need to ask you.”

A wedding party of butterflies came to life in her stomach. “Oh? Okay, shoot.”

“You might recall last weekend I mentioned my sister was engaged.”

Charlotte’s happiness deflated a bit. If all he needed was to hire her for photos, such a production hadn’t really been necessary. It was what she did for a living, for goodness’ sake. “Of course. So do you need a photographer?”

“Well, yes. But I need more than that.”

 

Review

This book hit so many emotions – joy and sorry and happiness.

I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this book as much as I did. Charlotte is down to earth and knows what she wants…but also has some issues that hold her back such as an almost previous marriage and a miscarriage. Dean is a slightly older guy (41 I think) and I really liked that the author didn’t let age become a problem. Well it was a problem for Dean at first and considering some of his past I can see why. But it isn’t like he was 70!

I have to admit there were tears in my eyes a few times when Charlotte talks about the miscarriage and how it impacted her life. And of course Dean has a few issues too (won’t spill all of them!) but what he experienced with his mother growing up was hard. And then a situation with Dean’s sister Alexis. That was a very emotional time.

Now while Charlotte and Dean have known each other for 3 years and they have been crushing on one another for all that time…they do seem to do things a little backwards by jumping into bed before trying that dating thing. But at least the scenes are only somewhat graphic. There is a little bit of “behind closed doors” that I appreciated.

I can’t wait to see what characters will be featured in following books…lots of people that need to be hooked up with someone!

We give this 5 paws up.

About the Author

Nicole McLaughlin wrote her first full length book (6 pages) about the birth of her baby sister, when she was eight years old. She only finished it because her mother bribed her with a Rick Astley cassette tape. Sad, but true. Now her characters are what keep her writing and her subject matter has gotten a little bit deeper and a lot more romantic. She resides in a small town outside of Kansas City with her husband and three sons. When she isn’t writing, she’s a wedding and portrait photographer, loves to cook, and watch historical dramas or documentaries. Nicole is the author of two series with St. Martin’s Press, the Man Enough series (All I Ask) and Whiskey and Weddings (Maybe I Do).

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Synopsis

Greta is always the bridesmaid – and that’s fine with her. She has no desire to date after a bad relationship left her reeling. Her friends aren’t having that, though, and after yet another wedding, she finds herself being set up with the DJ. Deciding to save herself the trouble of an inevitable breakup, Greta orchestrates a series of fake dates designed to trick her friends into thinking she’s putting herself out there. But Jon has plans of his own, and she never counted on the sparks that fly between them. Can a girl who doesn’t believe in love find it in the least likely place of all?

Excerpt

Greta was fifteen when she made the first pact, hud- dled under the old gazebo with Amy and Summer. Old enough to be considering the future, and making plans accordingly. Young enough to never seriously consider the ramifications of sticking to them. Even if some passing stranger had warned her what a hassle she was setting herself up for, she would have ignored it. They were all secure in themselves, in their foresight—and certainly knew better than to trust anyone over thirty, anyway.

The Sweetheart Dance had not gone well for the three of them, and so they had retreated to the sanctu- ary behind Greta’s house. Summer had pulled a stolen wine cooler out of her sequin-encrusted bag and was passing warm, sticky sips around. Amy’s earlier sobs had quieted to hiccups, hardly audible over the cool February rain.

“We could egg Tommy’s house if you wanted,” Greta offered, but the drizzle and their lethargy over- ruled it.

“Don’t even say that guy’s name.” That from Summer, who was visibly pleased to find the attention was finally off of her lack of date for the evening’s event—again.

“How could he do this to me? We’re in love!” Amy wiped fresh tears with the hem of her pink dress. They comforted her as best they could, the rest of them hav- ing yet to suffer their first teenage heartbreak. Greta suspected that Amy was enjoying her newfound world- liness, just the tiniest bit. But dumped in front of the whole school? The sheer humiliation her friend had endured made Greta shudder.

“It wasn’t Tommy’s idea, you know that.” Greta took another swig of the sugary drink. It was their favorite flavor, margarita. Years later, when they tasted real margaritas for the first time, they made another pact— never to speak of their wine cooler days.

“He shouldn’t have gone along with it, even if it was entirely Lindsey’s plan. He doesn’t care about either one of you. He just thought he had a better chance of getting past second base with her. Tommy is a grade- A asshole.” Summer had grabbed the bottle then and handed it to Amy, having recalled that women in Victo- rian novels often required a bracing drink of ladylike booze after a shock. Amy took the bottle gratefully.

“It didn’t matter what he thought he was getting out of it. Asking Amy to Sweetheart and then showing up with Lindsey instead was a heartless move. He’s heartless,” Greta repeated, fairly pleased with her assessment.

“He isn’t heartless, though! You should see some of the notes he writes me.” Amy fumbled in her clutch for a tissue. And one of the notes. She kept her favor- ites with her at all times.

The girls assured her that they had seen all of the notes, repeatedly, and that they had long suspected he was copying down lines from his mother’s romance novels. She was not inclined to believe it. It seemed that she was already making her plans to win Tommy back, and punish Lindsey in the process.

“It’s better to have loved and lost, though, isn’t it?” Summer had retrieved a second wine cooler and was feeling rather poetic. “At least you’ve been kissed.”

“Oh, I haven’t lost him. We are going to get back together, after a long and groveling apology. On my sweet sixteen, he’ll give me a promise ring. After be- ing crowned king and queen of prom, I’ll give him my virginity in a bed of rose petals. He’ll propose during Christmas break of our senior year at Golden Gate and we’re getting married before we start law school. We are going to get married!” Amy’s face was all but glowing by the time she’d recounted the familiar plans. She hadn’t gotten around to telling Tommy about them yet, but she wouldn’t have to. He would just know what to do, she’d reassured her friends.

“Marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Greta re- minded them. During the moment they were silent, considering, they could hear her father yelling from the house, even over the pitter-pat of raindrops.

“But if you marry the right one, the one you’re meant to be with, it’s like heaven.” Greta had long since stopped rolling her eyes at Summer’s old-fashioned view of the world. She’d learn soon enough, so to tell her so in advance would have been mean. Amy agreed with Summer, of course.

“How do you even know, though? Like, doesn’t everyone think they are marrying the right one? Other- wise why would you say yes?” Greta asked. They pondered, the truth of her words settling over them like the fog they had grown so accustomed to in the Bay.

It was Amy who had the answer. She had all the answers to everything, as she loved to remind them.

“The people who know you best. They know better than you do, most of the time.” She set down the dregs of her bottle and clasped their hands. The picture was suddenly clear. Just like her friends knew her best. Her friends, who had been gently encouraging a break-up for the past whole entire month. “I’m not going to marry Tommy, am I? Because even though I’m com- pletely love-struck, you guys know it’s a bad idea to get back together with him. You tell me this stuff, even though I don’t want to hear it.” Resilience was another one of her self-described best qualities. The deep love she had felt for Tommy just moments before was al- ready starting to fade into a distant memory.

Review

Funny, romantic and a little steamy!

I loved this book on many fronts – the 3 friends making a pact to pick each other’s dates; Mina who Greta is the nanny for; the bet that Jon makes with Angie & Matt (Angie is Greta’s sister); Greta realizing that maybe men aren’t all bad.

It doesn’t hurt that Jon and Greta are attracted to each other when they start dating – or fake-dating as Greta wants to call their situation. She is going along with this because of the pact but I liked how Jon is able to turn it around to his benefit. Greta chooses some interesting things to do on their dates, but Jon is ok with it all as he really likes her. Plus he is willing to give her the space she needs to realize that he is not like her father and won’t leave. That will take time.

And of course we can’t avoid the chemistry that sparks between Jon and Greta. There are some detailed scenes that turns the heat up in the book.

Mina does steal the show a few times in the book. I feel sorry for her having a father that pawns her off on the nanny (Greta) and doesn’t seem to want to spend time with her. However, we get a little peek into why that might be. Mina reminds him very much of his deceased wife and I can see how that might be hard to take at times.

We give this 5 paws up!

About the Author

Kayti McGee is a Kansas City native who now calls Colorado home. When she isn’t writing, she’s making up recipes to go with her favorite books. She is the author of Hands Off and Undercovers.

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Synopsis

Welcome to the small island town of Cloud Bay, where it’s never the wrong time to find a love that’s oh-so-right. . .

Caleb White knows what he wants out of life—and being a star tennis player is not it. After speaking to the press about his plans to retire, Caleb decides that a trip to quaint, beautiful Cloud Bay for its legendary music festival is exactly what he needs. There will be time to figure out what to do with his life without a racket in his hand soon enough. Until then, Caleb is content to be stuck on an island with CloudFest’s gorgeous director Faith Harper. . .

The daughter of a famous rock star, Faith knows all about fame, fortune, and hot flings that aren’t meant to last longer than a few good songs. Gorgeous, built Caleb is a temptation she can’t resist, but she’s not prepared for the way he makes her feel. . .and the dreams that they both share. What begins as a carefree distraction deepens into something real. But is Caleb ready to put his celebrity behind him and give life in the slow lane with Faith a chance?

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Excerpt

So maybe that was the wrong thing to think about.

She steered the car through the familiar bends of the road from Salt Devil to Danny’s place, not needing to really pay much attention to what she was doing. She could make the drive with a bag over her head. Could probably drive all around Lansing that way and never miss a beat.

Unlike her heart, which was bumping just that little bit too quickly to let her fool herself into thinking she didn’t have a rapidly developing case of, to quote Ivy, “flaming panties,” when it came to Caleb White.

Well, her panties were just going to have to cool it a little longer.

She let her left hand drift out the open window, fingers spread to catch the night air rushing against her skin so one part of her body had a chance to feel cool. “My mom would tell you that’s a terrible habit,” Caleb said. His voice sounded lower in the darkness.

Rumblier.

Sexier.

Engine vibrations. That was it. Blame it on the roar of whatever supercharged monster engine Will had put into the Mustang. That was what was making his voice sound so good.

Note to self: Drive the Prius if you ever have to share a car with this man again.

“I know this road. There’s nothing I could possibly catch my hand on.” She turned her head slightly to look at him for a second. He’d lowered his window too, his elbow resting on the window frame, his fingers gripped around the top. “And hello, pot, kettle, black. You do not have all limbs inside the vehicle, Mr. White.”

“My hand isn’t sticking out,” he said.

“And what would your mom say about that response?” “She’d tell me not to be a smart-ass.”

“I think I like your mom. What does she do?” “She’s a doctor. I think she’d like you too.”

Faith shook her head. Nope to him getting any kind of wrong idea. “I’m not really the kind of girl mothers approve of.”

“Why not?”

“Rock star dad. Tattoos. Not interested in settling down.”

“You have tattoos?” he said, sounding intrigued. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“That’s because so far you haven’t seen any parts of me where they’re noticeable.”

“I see.” He sounded even more intrigued. “But they’re somewhere a mom might see them?”

“I think it’s more the alcoholic-rock-star–womanizing- dad thing than the tattoos. My family’s reputation precedes me. They think I’m going to have my wicked way with their precious boys and break their hearts.”

“Are you meeting these moms via time travel? That all sounds very nineteen fifties to me,” he said. “And just so you know, I am on board with wicked ways.”

She laughed at that. “In my experience, most men are.” “Maybe the men you meet are smarter than their moms.”

“Oh no.” She pulled her hand back in the window as the approached the turn-off to Danny’s drive. “The moms have my number. I’m not the marrying kind, as they used to say.”

“Really?” He sounded skeptical. “Trust me.”

“I take it this is you telling me that if I ever get to sample your wicked ways, I should beware?”

She tried to ignore the way the rumble underscoring “wicked ways” made her want to invent some very wicked ways on the spot. Dammit. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She pulled into the drive, rolled the car to a stop outside the gate. “And, not to change the subject or anything, but we’re here.”

Caleb blinked. “So I see. Any point in me asking you in for a nightcap?”

As much as part of her wanted to say “hell yes,” she shook her head. “Not tonight.”

“Rain check on that too?” “We’ll see.”

Review

I have to say I liked Faith and Caleb. Both strong characters but with their own sets of baggage and insecurities. Faith doesn’t seem to trust many men (possible some bad relationships have tainted her) and Caleb was a workaholic while on the tennis circuit – which is to be expected since you can’t be out partying all the time and expect to play your best.

I liked how Faith ran Cloudfest – a music festival on their island off of California. It sounds like a lot of fun and considering her father was a famous musician, it isn’t too surprising. It does take quite some time to figure out why Faith isn’t a musician because it seems like she has the talent. Maybe she doesn’t want the spotlight as much as her brother seems to crave it.

Overall a fun read. I give this 3 1/2 stars. Enjoyable romance with a somewhat higher heat level than I was expecting (not that it is bad, just wasn’t expecting so much descriptive sex scenes).

About the Author

Emma Douglas would love to live in a world where professional napping was a thing. But until then, she thinks writing books is a pretty awesome alternative. When not writing about imaginary people, she can be found reading, doing something crafty, binge-watching TV, playing her latest song crush on repeat, or singing badly in her car. She lives in Melbourne, Australia in a tiny house stuffed full of books, too many craft supplies and two cats who take up more space than you would expect. Find out more about Emma at www.emmadouglasbooks.com.