THE RULES OF DATING MY BEST FRIEND’S SISTER, a new best friend’s sister contemporary romance from New York Times Bestselling Authors, Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland, is available now!

You know what they say…all good things must come to an end, right?

From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes a new standalone romance.

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t.
Just don’t do it.

Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

As a musician whose longest committed relationship was six weeks, I, Holden Catalano, was the last guy on Earth who should’ve been messing around with Laney Ellison.

The super smart girl whom I affectionately dubbed Lala since childhood was always off limits.

Though that didn’t stop me from thinking about her over the years, especially those times when the two of us would sneak out onto the roof and talk for hours after my buddy fell asleep. It was innocent, but I’d always held a torch for her.

After Ryan passed away, I vowed to always protect Lala. That included protecting her—from me.

Now all grown up and a scientist, Lala needed a place to stay when she accepted a temporary research position in New York. I thought I did the right thing by offering her an apartment in the building I co-owned with my three friends.

Except having her close by reignited all of those old feelings.

And things started to get complicated.

Especially since she was engaged.

And especially since, lately, I’d noticed something more in her eyes. Desire.

Lala didn’t exactly look at me like the platonic brother figure I was trying so desperately to be, even though I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.

Yet, I was being good—on my very best behavior.

But you know what they say…all good things must come to an end, right?

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THE RULES OF DATING MY BEST FRIEND’S SISTER, a new best friend’s sister contemporary romance from New York Times Bestselling Authors, Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland, releases April 2nd!

Scroll down for an excerpt!

You know what they say…all good things must come to an end, right?

From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes a new standalone romance.

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t.
Just don’t do it.

Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

As a musician whose longest committed relationship was six weeks, I, Holden Catalano, was the last guy on Earth who should’ve been messing around with Laney Ellison.

The super smart girl whom I affectionately dubbed Lala since childhood was always off limits.

Though that didn’t stop me from thinking about her over the years, especially those times when the two of us would sneak out onto the roof and talk for hours after my buddy fell asleep. It was innocent, but I’d always held a torch for her.

After Ryan passed away, I vowed to always protect Lala. That included protecting her—from me.

Now all grown up and a scientist, Lala needed a place to stay when she accepted a temporary research position in New York. I thought I did the right thing by offering her an apartment in the building I co-owned with my three friends.

Except having her close by reignited all of those old feelings.

And things started to get complicated.

Especially since she was engaged.

And especially since, lately, I’d noticed something more in her eyes. Desire.

Lala didn’t exactly look at me like the platonic brother figure I was trying so desperately to be, even though I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.

Yet, I was being good—on my very best behavior.

But you know what they say…all good things must come to an end, right?

———————————————————————————

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EXCERPT:

“What the hell?” He stood on the other side of the door. “Where’s the doorknob?”

I leaned down and spoke through the hole where the knob used to be.

“It’s in here with me. The lock jammed, and the knob came off in my hands when I tried to pull it open.”

“Alright. Give me a minute. I need to run next door to get a screwdriver.”

“I have one now! I picked it up after the beeping incident, so I wouldn’t need to bug you again. It’s in the top drawer in the kitchen!”

“Okay, great. Hang on.”

Two minutes later, the door popped open. It wasn’t until I saw Holden’s face that I remembered I was only wearing a tank top and underwear, sans bra.

He gulped and took a long look before turning his head. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed.”

I wasn’t the only one scantily clad. Holden had on only a pair of boxer briefs, his beautiful tanned skin and carved six pack on full display for my eager eyes, yet again. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. Silence ticked by until Holden turned his head back, probably to see why I’d grown quiet. “You oka—”

My eyes rose to meet his, but not before he’d caught me ogling him.
I shook my head and laughed nervously. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I just hadn’t expected you to be in your underwear either, I guess. It caught me off guard.”

Holden ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m sorry if I checked you out, too.”

I should’ve just left the bathroom and covered up with a robe, but something about being near this man made me say and do things that were completely out of character. “Would you mind if I…looked a little more?”

Holden’s brows shot up to his hairline. “You want to check me out?”

My face heated. I shook my head and looked down. “Oh my gosh. I’m so embarrassed. I think the lack of sleep and stress from being locked in here made me a little bonkers. It’s just that maybe we both have some pent-up curiosity about what we look like as adults. I mean, I’ve only stolen glimpses of you without a shirt on since we were teenagers in my backyard pool. And you certainly haven’t seen me in a skimpy bottom and no bra since then. I guess I was thinking if we took a good, long look, once and for all, we might get it out of our systems.”

Holden stared at me. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. Eventually, his eyes dropped to my chest. “You have no bra on…”

I shook my head. “No bra.”

He swallowed. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Fuck yeah. I’m going to hell anyway. Might as well enjoy the ride down. But you have to stay in the bathroom, and I’ll stay on this side of the doorway.”

“Okay.” I bit my bottom lip. “You look first.”

“Why don’t we look at the same time?”

I nodded. “Good idea. How long should we do it for?”

Holden shrugged. “A minute?”

“Do you have your phone?”

“No. I thought someone broke in and you were being attacked. My phone was the last thing on my mind.”

“Mine should be on the coffee table. Do you want to grab it so we can use the timer?”

Holden walked away and came back ten seconds later. “What’s your code?”

“Zero, seven, one, three.”

He started to type and then froze before looking up at the ceiling.

“That’s the day you’re getting married, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

Holden cursed as he went back to typing. “I’m so fucking going to hell.”

He called up the clock app and then turned the phone to show me. The countdown was set for one minute. His finger hovered over the green button. “You ready?”

I nodded.

Holden pressed the button, and we began to openly ogle each other.

Copyright © 2022 by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward

THE GIRL IN THE WOODS, a thrilling new romantic suspense novel from New York Times Bestselling Author, Kristen Ashley, is available now!

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Seething under the surface…

This body would be the last for Zachariah Lazarus…

The Crystal Killer’s latest casualty was discovered in a sleepy town in the Pacific Northwest, Misted Pines.

His years in the FBI, and tracking the Crystal Killer, have taken their toll on Rus. He lost his marriage to the job. And the burdens he carries for the victims was crushing him.

Misted Pines has recently survived a killer’s rampage and a town scandal that made global news. The media was primed to devour a new story. So Rus already has his work cut out for him.

But it’s more.

Something is just not right with this latest victim.

As Rus works with the local sheriff to unravel the mystery, the victim’s employer, Lucinda Bonner, decides she’s going to do everything she can to help.

To help Rus find the killer. To help Rus survive the hunt. To help Rus navigate the intricate, and sometimes sordid, history of the town of Misted Pines.

And to help Rus let go of his burdens.

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“A thrilling story bursting with anticipation and passion coupled with a fast-paced plot and a smoking-hot mature romance…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

The Last One

Standing in the doorway staring at a dead woman, Zachariah Lazarus knew this case was going to be his last.

He’d lost his wife to this.

He couldn’t drop everything, fly five hours, drive for two and a half, stand in the doorway of a room and assume responsibility for another lost soul.

He’d see to her. If he caught a break, he’d find the twisted mess of a human being who was behind it, and he’d put him out of commission. If he didn’t, he’d uncover everything he could and leave it for the next guy to use when he stood in a door and stared at a life ended in a grim and tragic way, hoping like hell he’d catch a break.

But Rus was done.

He was heavy with this shit. Struggling to breathe under a boulder he carried, which grew bigger and bigger, threatening to crush him.

He took a single step into the room, fighting against that weight he’d carried for years but only started feeling the day he signed his divorce papers.

The room was cold, incredibly cold. They’d jacked the AC way up to take care of her. It was probably another reason the owner was impatient to get her out of there.

She was lying in a cradle of plastic sheeting, like the other seven had been.

Her back was to the door, just like the others.

She was arranged in a position of sleeping, on her side, one leg hitched and resting on the bunched plastic tucked around her, arms cocked, hands tucked under her cheek.

She’d been anally raped, he could tell by the blood. Rus knew from experience she’d likely also been vaginally raped.

The back of her head had been bludgeoned, her long blonde hair matted and mingled with the color of rust, the stained ivory of jagged pieces of skull and the gore of exposed brain matter showing through the strands.

He’d spoken to his team on the drive there. They’d come and gone and were queuing up evidence to process what they’d found.

At that moment, the local sheriff and two of his deputies were outside, the sheriff not three feet behind him, the deputies trying to calm an irate motel owner who wanted the body removed.

He was going to have to put up with crime scene tape, but cruisers and an active investigation fucked with his ability to rent rooms.

This was too bad, since the man needed the money so he could put some fucking cameras in his reception and parking lot. Perhaps he hadn’t already because their presence made his current clientele nervous, but this meant the zero evidence Rus knew his suspect left behind added to the zero video footage would leave Rus and this woman with less than zero to go on.

She’d been there since discovery by the motel’s maid yesterday morning. She was still there due to the fact the MO was highly publicized, and the call needed to be made that would put Rus on a plane.

This boded well for the start of the investigation. It said the locals weren’t going to mess around.

They didn’t try to take lead. They didn’t start an investigation they weren’t going to be able to finish. They made the call. Rus arranged for agents in the Seattle division to head out and process the scene, gave the locals his ETA and asked that the scene was secured, nothing disturbed, so he could see her as she was left.

Precisely as she was left.

Great emotion put a stamp on a space.

Stand in the doorway after a child’s birthday party, you could feel the joy even if you didn’t see the mess left behind or smell the residue of frosting. Stand in the doorway of a crime scene, you could feel the suffering.

He normally let it wash over him like this, taking on the added weight of that despair, smelling the residue of misery.

He stood in that doorway longer, though, and not because she was going to be his last one.

He couldn’t put his finger on why, something was just…

Off.

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About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over eighty romance novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold millions of books.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana and was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.

Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community. You can learn more about Kristen and the Rock Chick Nation on her website.

Connect with Kristen:

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FOR NEVER, a fake relationship, forced proximity, workplace romantic comedy from New York Times Bestselling Author, Aurora Rose Reynolds is available now!

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I had no idea that taking a temp job for the summer would send my life into a tailspin, but that’s exactly what happened…

From New York Times & Wall Street Journal bestselling author Aurora Rose Reynolds comes a brand new romantic comedy about a girl who understands how short life is, and a man who quickly learns there are things way more important than money.

I had no idea that taking a temp job for the summer would send my life into a tailspin, but that’s exactly what happened when I started working for Jace Ellis.

One day I was his secretary and the next I was sitting on his private plane, wearing an obnoxiously large engagement ring, after he asked me if I would pretend to be his fiancé for one week.

I can admit that greed got the best of me. But the money he offered in exchange for my lie would help not only me, but my mom out tremendously.

I just had no idea what I was actually getting myself into.

I didn’t think about the fact that we would be sharing a bed, that we would have to pretend to like each other, and I sure didn’t know that I would be surrounded by his entire family at their annual family reunion.

But if the guy want’s a fiancé, I’m going to be the best one he’ll ever have.

I just hope I can remember that this isn’t forever; it’s for never.

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EXCERPT:

Blinking, I focus on Janelle’s face that is suddenly right in front of mine. “Yeah.” I shake my head. “I’m fine, totally fine. This is great! So, so, so great. I don’t think it could get any wors— I mean better,” I correct myself quickly. “I don’t think this could get any better.”

“Well, okay, great.” She looks around the room, then waves out her hand. “That’s the closet. There are a few hangers, but let me know if you need more.” She points at another door. “The bathroom is through that door. Jace’s grandma will be sharing it with you two when she gets here this evening, so make sure you lock it when you’re in the shower, since the rooms connect.”

“Lock the door—got it.” I nod, then look at Jace when he steps into the room.

“Everything okay?” he asks, coming to where I’m standing and placing his hand against my lower back, the warmth of his palm seeping through my hoodie and tank top.

“Great, your mom was just showing me around our room.” I turn to the side, forcing him to stop touching me.

“Thanks, Mom,” he tells her, not seeming even a little surprised he and I will be sharing a bed for an entire week. Then again, why would he be? If I actually thought about it, I could have guessed that’s how things would be. I mean, it’s not like many parents nowadays would force their kids to sleep separately from whoever it is they’re dating until they’re married.

Damn, those really were the good ol’ days.

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About Aurora Rose Reynolds:  

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, Underground Kings, Shooting Stars, Fluke My Life and How to Catch an Alpha series.

Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.

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RIGHT MAN, RIGHT TIME, a fake dating, age gap, hockey romantic comedy from USA Today Bestselling Author, Meghan Quinn, is available now!

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“Ollie tastes good. Like tequila and promises…”

From USA Today and Amazon Charts bestselling author Meghan Quinn, comes a new fake dating, standalone sports romance featuring the hockey men you can’t get enough of and love. This steamy, age-gap romantic comedy will bring all the laughs while making your cheeks blush at the same time.

Running into your ex is never ideal.
Running into your ex who is now dating your nemesis is a literal nightmare.

That’s how I found myself in a sheer panic, reaching for the closest guy at the bar and kissing him. And to my delight he was easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

The only problem is, when I tried to walk away after thanking him for his help, he stopped me with three life-changing words . . .“You owe me.”

That’s how I found myself, a college girl, in a fake relationship with a professional hockey player ten years older than me.

At first it was easy.
He helped me with my internship.
I helped keep his ex away from him.
We were becoming fast friends.

It wasn’t until he started staying the night at my dorm did the rules of our arrangement become complicated.

Now my feelings are involved and even though I kissed the right man at the right time, I’m worried he’s just waiting for the clock to run out.

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“A slow-burning romance, witty banter, crackling chemistry and an engaging, entertaining plot has landed this book on my list of favorites from Meghan Quinn.” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

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EXCERPT:

Two years ago . . .

**SILAS**

“I don’t know, dude. Maybe I should have gone with the princess cut,” I say into the phone as I head up the elevator to my penthouse apartment that offers expansive views of the Burrard Inlet.

When Sarah and I found this place, she told me we had to get it. Not only were the views everything we could have asked for, but the privacy was also a huge bonus, especially since privacy doesn’t come so easily anymore. Not when you’re the star right wing from the Vancouver Agitators.

“Do we really have to go through this again?” Pacey Lawes says through the phone, clearly irritated with my inability to settle on the right ring.

“I want to get this right.” The elevator shoots me up to the penthouse. “I know Sarah has been waiting for this, and I’m finally in a place in my life where I can get her the ring she deserves. I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

“How many times do we have to go through this? She sent you pictures of that halo ring. That’s what she wants, and what you got matches that. Don’t change anything.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I sigh. “Shit, I’m nervous.”

“Are you doing it tonight?”

“No.” I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I have to figure out her ring size first.”

“That would have been job number one,” he says just as the elevator dings and the doors begin to part.

“Probably.” I scrub my hand over my face as I step off the elevator. “This is my first and last proposal, so I’m not quite sure of the timetable here.”

“Don’t think that’s part of a timetable. Just common sense, man,” Pacey says as I set my keys on the side table next to the elevator, kick off my shoes, and then head toward the kitchen where I find one of Sarah’s bras discarded on the counter.

That’s weird.

She’s a bit of a neat freak, so finding something like a bra on the counter and no other laundry feels out of place.

“You there?” Pacey asks.

“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat and pick up the black lace, a bra I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear before. And I know because I’ve been with her since high school. I’ve seen the ins and outs of this woman’s wardrobe, and I would have easily remembered a bra like this. “Hey, I have to go.”

“Everything okay?” Pacey asks with concern, obviously hearing the change in my tone.

“Yup, just, uh, realized I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer.” A simple lie that I know will do the trick.

“Oh shit, dude, you’re in trouble.”

“Don’t I know it,” I say right before hanging up and setting my phone on the counter.

I examine the bra, tracing my fingers over the lace. Have I seen this before?

No, definitely not.

This is different.

This is not the Sarah I know who only wears nude-colored undergarments. That’s all she’s ever worn, and I’ve been fine with it. I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to see what was under the undergarments, and lately, there’s been a drought in that department.

She blames it on hockey, saying I’m never around. But I don’t see how my schedule is any different from last year. Sure, I might have acquired more deals that have brought in an exponentially higher income, and those commitments have stolen some of my time, but I still make an effort to make time to be available for her.

She’s the one who tells me she’s tired.

She’s the one who offers me her cheek when I try to kiss her good night.

I spoke to the guys about it. How she never initiates intimacy, how she rolls away from me at night, and we concluded that maybe she was tired of waiting for a true commitment from me.

Hence the ring.

But this bra . . . maybe she’s trying to spice things up for the both of us.

Maybe she left this here, knowing I was coming home and would believe it’s a clue.

A smile stretches across my face as I stick the bra in the back pocket of my jeans and move toward the bedroom.

“Sarah, babe, you here?” I ask, heading closer to the shut bedroom door. “Found your bra.”

“Mmmmm.” I hear her moan, which makes me pause in my path to open the bedroom door.

Was that moan for me, or was that moan . . . something else?

Confused, I reach for our bedroom doorknob and twist it just as I hear her again. “Yes, right there.”

What the . . .

I part the door open, just enough to see Sarah spread naked on our bed with a woman’s head between her legs. What. The. Fuck?

My mouth drops to the floor, my heart sputters to a stop, and I can feel all the color draining from my face.

“That’s it, baby, keep up that pace,” a male voice speaks from the side of the room, nearly knocking me back on my ass.

I glance toward the window and find a naked man sitting in the chair I use to put my fucking shoes on, stroking his mediocre erection.

“What the actual fuck?” I say, unable to stop myself.

Sarah’s head pops up, and her eyes connect with mine. Fear crosses her pupils right before pure ecstasy. The woman doesn’t stop eating Sarah’s pussy, the man doesn’t stop stroking his dick, and it’s as if everything is playing out in slow motion like some sort of fucked-up porn video.

Sarah’s eyes remain on mine as she bites her bottom lip and her cheeks flush, a look I haven’t seen from her in I don’t know how long. And for the life of me, I can’t look away as her chest lifts, nipples puckered, skin slick, and her mouth falls open as a low, feral moan slips past her lips. A sound so erotic that I honestly wasn’t sure she could make it.

Her head falls back to the bed, her fingers grip the sheets tightly, and then, to my absolute horror, I watch her come, getting off from another woman while a man in the corner does the same, he groans even louder.

At a complete standstill, unsure of what to fucking do, I stay rooted in place, waiting for this nightmare to end.

“Oh God,” Sarah says as she fondles her breasts, plucking her nipples. “So good,” she mumbles before she finally catches her breath.

So good? Is she fucking kidding me right now?

The naked woman between her legs pulls away and turns toward me. Her fake breasts are way too large for her body. That’s what you notice, Silas? She stands up and then starts fingering herself. With a coy look, she asks, “Do you want to be next?”

“The fuck?” I ask. “No!” I look past the busty redhead and over at Sarah. “What the fuck is going on?”

Hand draped over her face, she closes her legs and then rolls up to a seated position. She’s flush, satisfied, and it makes me so fucking mad. My vision starts to tunnel. She’s my girl, and someone else made her look fucking satisfied. That doesn’t settle well with me. Nor does her hair looking a mess. Or the wild expression in her eyes. Gratification rings clear in her voice as she says, “I needed a good fuck, Silas.”

She needed a good fuck?

That’s her excuse?

“Then why the hell did you not ask me? Your boyfriend?”

I stare Sarah down, looking for an answer, but she doesn’t give me one. The redhead walks up to me seductively and rests her hand on my chest. “You seem tense. Let me fix that for you.”

Keeping still, I speak through my clenched jaw. “I suggest you get the fuck away from me right now.”

“Do not talk to my woman like that,” the man says while standing and stuffing his now flaccid dick in his pants.

“Test me, dude. Seriously, see how far it gets you. I’ve bashed more skulls in my lifetime to even count. You do not want to fuck with me.”

“Maybe I do,” the man says, acting like a stupid fuck. He steps toward me, and without even thinking twice, I cock my arm back. Sarah inserts herself between the man and me before I can hit him.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice stern.

She can’t be serious.

“You’re protecting him?” I ask. In my fucking house? My fucking bedroom? What the hell is happening?

Without answering me, she turns toward the man and woman. “I think you two should leave.”

“Are you sure?” the woman asks. “If you’re in trouble, we can stay.”

“She’s not in fucking trouble,” I yell. “I’m her goddamn boyfriend, and if you don’t leave in the next five minutes, I will physically remove you myself.”

“Go,” Sarah says.

While they pick up and leave, Sarah grabs a robe from the bed and tosses it over her body, covering up the bite marks along her rib cage and breasts. Breasts I’ve spent years worshipping.

Pain, anger, and confusion all lace through my body, putting me through a mental fuckery of a roller coaster as I try to pick one emotion to focus on.

When I hear the elevator doors close, I know which one to run with. Anger. I turn toward her and say, “What the fuck was that?”

Arms crossed defensively, she answers, “I’ve . . . I’ve been feeling neglected. Todd and Nancy have—”

“Todd and Nancy?” I shout.

“Yes, Todd and Nancy.” She secures the tie around her waist. “They’ve made me feel supported, fulfilled, and not so alone.”

White-hot rage shoots up my spine. “Don’t fucking come at me with that. I’ve tried to make you feel . . . fulfilled, but you won’t let me. You push me away, turn me down, you won’t even fucking look at me. I mean, what the hell, Sarah? How long has this been going on?”

“Four months,” she says without even an ounce of apology in her voice.

“Four months?” I ask. “Jesus Christ.” I step away, running my hand through my hair. When I look at her, I don’t see the same person I fell in love with years ago. I see someone jaded, someone manipulative, someone who had no intention of protecting my heart.

After everything we’ve been through, all the ups and downs of trying to make it in hockey, the hardships, the joy, she’s going to act like cheating on me for four months is nothing?

That it’s my fault when I’ve put in the effort?

That I’m the one to blame even though we both agreed that my goal to be a professional hockey player is what we both wanted?

She knew what this life would be like. I didn’t see her complaining when she got her expensive purses and brand-name shoes.

I stare at her, the woman I gave my heart to, and as anger fills me, I say, “Fuck you, Sarah.”

“Excuse me?” she asks, shock registering across her face.

“I said . . . fuck . . . you.”

“You’re mad at me.” She points at her chest. “You’re mad at me when I’m the one who has to stay here all alone?”

“You knew what you were getting into,” I yell. “You fucking knew this is what life would be like, and you agreed to it. We had an in-depth conversation about what to expect. We agreed this was what would be best for our life together. And to help the situation, to make you feel more comfortable, I got the fancy apartment you wanted. I got you the car and the clothes. I got you everything you ever asked for. So yeah, Sarah, fuck you. We were supposed to be monogamous.”

“As if you’ve never cheated on me,” she says offhandedly.

“Never,” I answer with a low growl in my voice. It feels like the hair on the back of my neck is standing to attention. “I’ve never once touched another woman, looked their way, or even thought about it because I love you, Sarah. You’re my girl. You’re the one I want to be with.”

Hand propped on her hip, disbelief in her voice, she repeats, “You never cheated on me? That’s hard to believe. I’ve heard what the other girls have said about all those women running around the hotel rooms looking to hook up with your team.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but I have fucking loyalty,” I snap at her. “I promised myself to you, and I’ve kept that promise. Wait, have you been cheating on me with other people besides Todd and Nancy?” When she glances away, I have my answer. I throw my arms up and turn my back on her. “Un-fucking-believable.” This whole time, I thought she was loyal. I thought we were in this together. I thought that maybe she was pulling away because of the change in popularity I’ve received. But she’s been fucking unfaithful all this time. What the actual fuck?

Everything I’ve known about love comes crashing to a fucking standstill. I feel so . . . betrayed. Broken.

I take a few deep breaths. “I want you out.”

“What?” she asks.

I turn around to face her. Feeling absolutely gutted inside, I repeat myself. “I said I want you out. You have an hour. Get what you need and get the fuck out. We’re done, Sarah.”

“This is my apartment too.”

“You know what? You’re right, it is.” I smile demonically. “I’ll call the landlord right now and tell her to switch the name on the lease to yours. Enjoy paying rent.”

Her face falls flat. “You can’t do that. I don’t have a job. I put my life on hold to support you.”

“I didn’t know supporting me meant you got to fuck around with other people. I think we have a different view of what supporting really means.”

Not sure if it’s me asking her to leave or the realization that she has nothing without me, but panic lights up her eyes. “Listen, Silas, we can work this out.”

“The fuck we can. Now you either pack up and get out of here in an hour, or the apartment is yours. Rent is due in a week.”

And with that, I storm out of the apartment and as far away from her as I can get.

We are so fucking over.

And I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone treat me like that again.

About Meghan Quinn:

USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

Connect with Meghan:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Instagram  |  TikTok  |  Twitter  |  Amazon  |  BookBub  |  Goodreads

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Text READ to 474747 and never miss a new release from Meghan!

FIGHTING THE PULL, an emotional new standalone romance in full of heat and heart from New York Times Bestselling Author, Kristen Ashley, is coming September 12th! Check out this cover!

She can’t help but fall. He needs to fight the pull…

There’s more lurking behind this decision. He hasn’t faced the tragic loss of his father, or the bitterness of his parents’ divorce. He doesn’t intend to follow in his father’s footsteps, breaking a woman’s heart in a way it will never mend. So he vows he’ll never marry.

But Hale is intrigued when he meets Elsa Cohen, the ambitious celebrity news journalist who has been reporting on his famous family. He warns her off, but she makes him a deal. She’ll pull back in exchange for an exclusive interview.

Elsa Cohen is married to her career, but she wants love, marriage, children. She also wants the impossibly handsome, fiercely loyal, tenderhearted Hale Wheeler.

They go head-to-head, both denying why there are fireworks every time they meet. But once they understand their undeniable attraction, Elsa can’t help but fall for the dynamic do-gooder.

As for Hale, he knows he needs to fight the pull of the beautiful, bold, loving Elsa Cohen, because breaking her would crush him.

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PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

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About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over eighty romance novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold millions of books.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana and was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.

Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community. You can learn more about Kristen and the Rock Chick Nation on her website.

Connect with Kristen:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Instagram  |  Pinterest  |  Twitter  |  Amazon  |  Bookbub  |  Goodreads

Sign up for Kristen’s newsletter!

RIGHT MAN, RIGHT TIME, a fake dating, age gap, hockey romantic comedy from USA Today Bestselling Author, Meghan Quinn, is available now!

“Ollie tastes good. Like tequila and promises…”

From USA Today and Amazon Charts bestselling author Meghan Quinn, comes a new fake dating, standalone sports romance featuring the hockey men you can’t get enough of and love. This steamy, age-gap romantic comedy will bring all the laughs while making your cheeks blush at the same time.

Running into your ex is never ideal.
Running into your ex who is now dating your nemesis is a literal nightmare.

That’s how I found myself in a sheer panic, reaching for the closest guy at the bar and kissing him. And to my delight he was easily the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.

The only problem is, when I tried to walk away after thanking him for his help, he stopped me with three life-changing words . . .“You owe me.”

That’s how I found myself, a college girl, in a fake relationship with a professional hockey player ten years older than me.

At first it was easy.
He helped me with my internship.
I helped keep his ex away from him.
We were becoming fast friends.

It wasn’t until he started staying the night at my dorm did the rules of our arrangement become complicated.

Now my feelings are involved and even though I kissed the right man at the right time, I’m worried he’s just waiting for the clock to run out.

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ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY!

Amazon

Add to Goodreads

About Meghan Quinn:

USA Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat in every book.

Connect with Meghan:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Instagram  |  TikTok  |  Twitter  |  Amazon  |  BookBub  |  Goodreads

Sign up for her mailing list to stay up-to-date with Meghan!

Text READ to 474747 and never miss a new release from Meghan!