Keeper by Amy Daws

Keeper by Amy Daws releases on September 7th!

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Sharing a bedroom wall with your best friend from childhood quickly turns to anything but sweet and innocent.

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They were best friends until they became roommates.

Booker Harris has spent the last several years pushing himself to become the best goalkeeper in the Championship League. Tired of living in the shadows of his headline-splashing brothers, he has finally carved a path of his own.

As a child, Poppy McAdams was content in her own little make-believe world, until the boy next door with dimples and pained eyes came barreling into her makeshift fort demanding all her attention.

Best friends for most of their lives, everything changes when Poppy abruptly leaves London for University.

Now she is back, and gone is the awkward girl from Booker’s youth. She has been replaced by a stunning woman with secrets. Secrets that Booker is desperate to know.

Sharing a bedroom wall with your best friend from childhood quickly turns to anything but sweet and innocent.
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About the Author

AMY DAWS

Amy Daws is a lover of all things British and her London-based love stories bring the incredible city to life on every page. Read all about hot British men, hilarious heroines, and unforgettable and original ensemble casts that pull out all the feels. For more of Amy’s work, visit www.amydawsauthor.com

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The Sweetest Burn by Jeaniene Frost

51KhcfelFnL._SX314_BO1204203200_The breathtaking second novel in New York Times bestselling author Jeaniene Frost’s Broken Destiny series finds Ivy and Adrian rekindling their alliance—and passion—as the struggle for the fate of the world begins…

Conquering a supernatural realm turned out to be easier than getting over a broken heart. But her initial victory has made Ivy a target for revenge, forcing her to reunite with the dangerous—and dangerously sexy—Adrian. Ivy isn’t sure which will be harder: finding the hallowed weapon that will repair the crumbling walls between the demon and human realms, or resisting Adrian, who’s decided that come hell or high water, he will make Ivy his.

At first, Adrian tried to resist his feelings for Ivy. Now, determined to break the curse that dooms their love, he’s vowed to save her and to have her. If only he can persuade her to forgive his past sins. But defying destiny—and surrendering to the smoldering desire between them—will bring consequences and sacrifices they never imagined…

 “Frost scores another win with the mesmerizing second Broken Destiny supernatural contemporary… The novel thrums with energy, its pacing breakneck from the very start, and piles on the sexual tension. Frost provides a much-needed inventive boost to the tired angel/demon subset of supernatural fantasy.” –Publishers Weekly

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I began to hike up my dress as I resumed walking. Adrian watched with interest until I reached the straps around my upper thighs. I gave him a censuring look as I pulled out my cell phone. No, I wasn’t flashing him. I had to give Costa and Jasmine a heads-up that they needed to start packing. Poor Costa. He’d taken me and my sister in because we couldn’t return to our old house—or our old lives—after I’d decimated a demon realm rescuing Jasmine. Now, Costa would be forced to leave his own home, and I had no idea where any of us would go.

But when I looked at my phone, I let out a groan. The front of it was smashed so badly, I could see the plastic casing behind it. Memories of the minion’s fists explained how that had hap­pened. My ribs hadn’t been the only thing he’d bashed as he’d tried to kill me.

“Do you have a phone?” I asked, breaking my new silence.

His mouth tightened. “No.”

“Who goes anywhere without a cell phone?” I muttered.

Adrian’s features closed off, as if this was somehow a sore sub­ject. “I’ve been having issues with mine.”

We walked in silence for several moments. The sun was almost fully up, and I felt bad for Brutus flying in those rays while tak­ing the demon far out over the ocean, even though I was ticked at Brutus for sneaking behind my back to see Adrian.

“Do you know the worst part of staying away from you these past months?” Adrian asked. “I thought it would be remember­ing everything that had happened between us, but instead, it was thinking of everything we didn’t do.”

I still said nothing. If he’d missed me so much, ignoring me for months was a real unique way of showing it.

He moved closer, until his big body blocked the wind. I still didn’t look up at him, but kept staring straight ahead as if I could will myself back at Costa’s with sheer mind power.

“I showed you terrible places when I should have shown you beautiful ones,” he went on, his voice deepening. “Told you hor­rible details about my past instead of letting you get to know the person I’d become, and I taught you how to wield that sling­shot instead of teaching you a thousand different things that we would’ve enjoyed much, much more.”

The way his voice caressed that last part made his mean­ing explicitly clear. Surprise combined with a rush of heat as a treacherous part of myself started imagining what those things might have been. My lack of experience meant I didn’t have a lot to go on, but my mind seemed up to improvising. Then, with a mental slap, I forced those thoughts back.

“Too late now,” I said in a crisp tone.

Adrian caught me to him, his hands closing like warm steel bands around my arms.

“Ivy, listen. When we met, I didn’t think I could beat my fate. That’s why I kept pushing you away, why I didn’t tell you who I was at first and why I didn’t tell you what I felt until, yes, it was almost too late. But it’s not too late.” He stared at me until his gaze felt almost palpable with his intensity. “I know what I feel for you, and it’s stronger than any destiny. I told you the last time I saw you that I’d make you believe in us again. I meant that, and regardless of how mad you are at me, if you had a hard time resisting me when I was fighting my feelings for you…you won’t stand a chance now that I’m not.”

My jaw dropped as pride chased away the dangerous warmth that had caused me to sway the tiniest bit closer to him. I’d prac­tically thrown myself at him the last time circumstances had forced us to spend time together, and what had that gotten me? Betrayed and dumped. Damned if I’d let history repeat itself.

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Jeaniene Frost is the New York Times, USA TODAY, and international bestselling author of 81boz9cgShL._UX250_-1the Night Huntress and Night Prince series for Avon and the Broken Destiny series for Harlequin HQN. Jeaniene’s books have sold in twenty different countries to date. She lives in North Carolina and Florida with her husband.

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Enrage by Rachel Van Dyken

Enrage, an all-new sexy standalone from #1 New York Times Bestseller Rachel Van Dyken is available NOW!!

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Enrage is the next standalone in the international best selling mafia series, Eagle Elite.

Part of a world I loathe.

Part of a family who hates me more than I hate myself.

Living with a girl who reminds me of my darkness.

I’m. In. Hell.

Also known as the Cosa Nostra.

My life was over the minute I stepped off that plane.

Son to a murdered mob boss.

Heir to a throne of murder and lies.

My name is Dante Nicolasi.

And there will be blood.

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Dante slammed his hand into the tree, his jaw popped as he gritted his teeth together and then calm washed over him as he whispered near my ear, “Want me to kill him?”

A few people walked by and stared at us, it looked like he was kissing my neck, like we were normal college students sharing a moment.

Nope. Wrong story, kiddos.

He just offered to kill someone for offending me, run along, nothing to see here.

“After,” I said. “Kill him after he stops being useful to you, to the bosses.” I couldn’t believe what was coming out of my mouth, what I was agreeing to. “Yes.”

Dante pulled back, his face broke out into a smile. “How messed up is it that I’m actually looking forward to that moment?”

I gulped. “It’s in your blood.”

“I wish it wasn’t,” he said gruffly. “I wish I didn’t crave it — dream about it — almost as much as I wish I didn’t feel guilt every day because of it.”

I sighed and put my hands on his chest, then ran them up around his neck, he didn’t move, or flinch, so maybe we were having a moment as our mouths almost touched. “The only shame in life, is not being who you were truly born to be. If that means you kill the bad guys — kill the bad, guys Dante. Just don’t lose your soul in the process.”

“And if it’s already gone?” He croaked his eyes darkening as he slowly leaned in until his forehead touched mine.

Days ago I would have been terrified that his body was this close.

Days ago, I would have shoved him away and run.

Days ago, I would have shuddered that his bloodstained hands were running up and down my skin.

But today.

Today was different.

Today I closed my eyes and drank in the wicked scent of Dante Nicolasi, the cologne mixed with soap. I inhaled.

And opened my eyes again.

Yesterday I was angry. I was afraid.

Today. Against the tree.

Pinned by Dante’s arms.

I was safe.

“I’ll help you find it,” I whispered.

“Just don’t damn yourself in the process, El.” He cupped my face with his right hand, his eyes fell to my mouth, his half-lidded seductive look could stop a girl dead in her tracks.

The wives always talked about how attractive his father was, even at an older age.

Almost like he’d aged backward.

Dante was no different.

If it was possible for a human to get more attractive by the day — he’d be the one to prove you right.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” I asked hopefully.

“No.” He pulled away.

My heart sank into my stomach.

“Because I don’t want to start something I have no intention of stopping.”

My head jerked, our eyes locked, and I saw it. The honesty.

“Told you I’d never lie to you, El.” His voice had a warning edge to it, like I shouldn’t push him, push whatever invisible boundaries he’d mentally set up between us. His eyes never left mine.

And I knew, this was what he looked like when he was telling the truth.

His eyes pierced through my defenses in an unapologetic search for my heart, my soul.

And I let them.

“We should get to class.” I finally found my voice and started walking, he fell into step beside me.

And I spent the rest of the day thinking about the non-kiss.

And the promise that came with it.

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Enrage is the eighth full length novel in the wildly popular Eagle Elite Series by Rachel Van Dyken. The Series centers around the new generation of Mob Bosses and how they are trying to reconcile the sins of their fathers while maintaining the tradition of their families – joining forces with the top 5 families to form a cohesive force. But like all things with the mob, there can never really be a time of peace.  Enrage takes fans of the series on an EPIC mind bending ride – leaving us stunned yet hopeful for what comes next in the series.

Dante Nicolasi has recently found out he is the heir apparent to the mafia family, he never really knew of. Being immersed in  all things Mob, he finds himself in a living hell, trying to figure out his place in this new world. It was never anything he expected and knew that he would have to sacrifice much in order to earn the trust of the other bosses.

This story focus’ on Dante’s foray into the land of Eagle Elite and has powerful messages of family, trust and betrayal. I can’t tell you much about the story except it’s intense. The books are interconnected stand alones, so you can dive into any of the books without having to read the rest of the books in the series. But I highly recommend this series. It’s one of my all time favorites and I devour each book as soon as it hits my kindle.

Blood in.. No Out…

Catch up with the rest of the Eagle Elite Series Here: http://bit.ly/RVDEagleElite

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

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Eye Candy by Jessica Lemmon

Don’t trust lust at first sight. 

Don’t trust lust at first sight. One woman chooses reality over fantasy in this friends-to-lovers romance. 


Jacqueline:
 As an adult woman—and the vice president of a marketing firm—I shouldn’t be waiting by my office window to ogle the mystery man who jogs by every morning at 11:45. Sure, he’s a gorgeous, perfect specimen of the human race, but I can’t bring myself to hit on a total stranger. However, my best friend–slash–colleague Vince Carson thinks I should do more than talk to the guy. In fact, he’s borderline obsessive about “getting me laid.” (His words.) But the more time we spent together, the more it’s clear: The one I’m falling for is Vince.

Vince: Jackie Butler’s got it bad for some pompous, over-pumped A-hole who struts his stuff past her window. That doesn’t bother me. I know she deserves nice things. What does bother me is that she friend-zoned me big-time last year, so I can’t ask her out myself. But what if I set her up with Mr. Steroids? Then, when he breaks her heart, I can swoop in and save her like the nice guy I am. Everything’s going according to plan . . . until we share a ridiculously epic kiss. And suddenly anything is possible.


EYE CANDY
Real Love #1
Jessica Lemmon
Releasing July 25th, 2017
Loveswept

 

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I get giddy when a Jessica Lemmon book lands on my kindle and Eye Candy was no exception to the rule. I absolutely loved this fun and sexy friends to lovers novel, that had me laughing and teary-eyed all in one sitting.
Vince and Jackie have been friend, well best friends for the past year. When Vince went through a bitter divorce, Jackie was there to lend a shoulder to cry on and help Vince move on from the disaster that was his ending marriage. The two were Co-VPs together and spent most of their spare time together, watching movies and just being there for each other.
So when Jackie starts to show interest in dating – the green eye of jealousy rears its ugly head and Vince all of a sudden realizes that what he really wants is Jackie as more than a best friend. But he has to be smooth about it. So he decides to coach Jackie back into the dating scene , hoping that the time they spend together and him pushing the boundary lines a little further will help Jackie see what’s in front of her instead of what’s been jogging by her window at work.
This was a super fun book. The chemistry between Jackie and Vince is through the roof. But so much is at stake and both come from not the best relationships… so could crossing the line be the end all to their friendship and leave them both broken?
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VINCE

Admittedly, giving Jackie advice on how to get a guy to sleep with her is not my best plan.

“Okay, Butler,” I say, fully focused on Jackie now. “Let’s hear it.”

She stops scribbling on the napkin in front of her, and I bite back a smile. Since I’ve given her a few tips, she has been frantically taking notes. She’s a planner. I’ve always been more go-with-the-flow.

She reads over her notes, squinting in concentration, her lips moving as she reads. Then those golden brown eyes hit mine and she gives me a resolute nod. “I’m ready.”

Her tongue swipes pink lips, making them glisten and making me regret again the route I’ve chosen to take with her. Part of me concedes I could call it off and tell her what I really want, but I know her. She’s barely convinced she can ask a dude out, so her best guy friend throwing a date on the table would be an automatic no.

“Let’s see it,” I say, kind of excited to see what she’s come up with.

She takes the empty seat next to me and leans heavily on an elbow, fist under her chin. “Hi. I’m Jackie.”

I blink several times in quick succession at the transformation from my scatterbrained best friend to a gorgeous woman giving me bedroom eyes. She’s pretending. I’d do well to remember that.

“Vince,” I introduce.

She straightens in her chair and frowns. “Shouldn’t you pretend to be J.T.?”

“I’m not that good of an actor, Butler.” And I’m not pretending to be that jerk.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, then slides into seduction mode so swiftly I find myself impressed. She’s better at this than she’s let on. “Do you have a last name, Vince?”

“You know my last name, Butler.”

“Call me Jackie.” She gives me a slow bat of her lashes.

My smile is real, and when I lean closer, I don’t even do it on purpose. “Well, Jackie. Last names are irrelevant, don’t you think?”

Her chest lifts as she takes a breath, and I’m not shy about checking out her cleavage, exposed down the V of her shirt. Normally I wouldn’t look so obviously, but this is a game. Our game.

“That’s very assuming of you, Mr. No Last Name.” She quirks her lips in that way she has, and my smile broadens. “But let’s say”—she moves her half-full wineglass onto the cocktail napkin she wrote on—“for argument’s sake, you’re right, that last names are irrelevant.” She runs the tip of her finger along the rim of her glass like she’s doing it absentmindedly.

She’s doing it on purpose. I can tell.

Damn. She’s good.

“We should have a real date before making plans, don’t you think?” she asks, her eyes on mine.

“Yes.” Hell, yes. “Dinner, at the very least.”

“And then if dinner works out . . .” She lets that statement hang and my heart beats triple time as I wait for what comes next. “We can talk about dessert.”

“We can talk about dessert now.” I’m transfixed on her and the idea of exploring our new dynamic.

“Ohmygod.” Her eyes go wide. “Would he say that?”

I give myself a mental shake when I realize I was caught up in the conversation. It was one I wanted to be real, and she was thinking about Running Man.

“Probably,” I say, the spell broken. “Guys are assholes. Like I said.”

I lean back in my chair, find a TV, and stare blankly.

“But if that’s the case, I’ll have to have sex with him sooner than I planned.”

“No, you don’t, Jackie.” I hear the anger in my own voice. Because . . . “You don’t have to have sex with anyone. You could go to drinks, dinner, and dessert with this guy—you could end the night with tonsil hockey on your front porch or his, and you can still say no.”

She purses her lips. I hate the idea of her kissing that jackass. No matter what kind of person he is—even if he’s a volunteer firefighter who raises orphaned squirrels so they can perform at the local senior center—I hate him.

“Tell me you know that,” I say.

“I know I don’t have to. That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to chicken out. I want to get the first one over with. Like you did.”

I tip my head back and groan aloud. I can’t help it. I’m the example for her return to the dating world? Much as I don’t want to admit it, fair is fair. I salved my wounds with girls like Polly, so why can’t Jackie do it with J.T.? Jackie’s my friend and I care about her. I can’t make a double standard now.

“Besides, he’s really hot,” she says, her face going glowy.

“Spare me.”

Eye Candy Promo 3
authorspotlight2
A former job-hopper, Jessica Lemmon resides in Ohio with her husband and rescue dog. She holds a degree in graphic design currently gathering dust in an impressive frame. When she’s not writing super-sexy heroes, she can be found cooking, drawing, drinking coffee (okay, wine), and eating potato chips. She firmly believes God gifts us with talents for a purpose, and with His help, you can create the life you want.
Jessica is a social media junkie who loves to hear from readers. You can learn more at her website.
 

 

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The Cocky Chef by JD Hawkins

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You can call me arrogant as much as you want. But when you’re the best at what you do and have the hottest restaurant on the west coast, with enough Michelin stars to make Gordon Ramsay’s head spin, you’ve earned the right to your confidence.

When I give an instruction in the kitchen, it’s not a suggestion–it’s an order. So when a new chef thinks she can do things her way, and dares to say so to my face, even her sharp wit and gorgeous pouty lips don’t make it okay.

But I have to admit, she’s got talent. She’s creative in the kitchen and not even that double-breasted chef jacket can hide her perfect body. As I get to know her, I can’t help wanting to know everything she thinks. I’ve never met a more talented chef. And I’ve never met a sassier and sexier woman in my life.

There’s only one way this push and pull can end.

With her in my bed, begging for more.

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Cocky Chef by JD Hawkins

Release Date: July 31st

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Designer: Letitia Hasser from RBA Designs

Model: Christian Hogue

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OH MY… where to even begin with this book! I loved every single second of it, from the first paragraph to the very last word. Willow and Cole are pure perfection. Cole is the pretentious celebrity chef that no one dares to rub the wrong way until Willow steps into his kitchen and lets the cocky chef know that he’s not all that.

I loved Willow’s fire and passion, in and out of the kitchen. The two start off with a taboo affair…I mean who sleeps with their boss after only being on the job for a week. But the two also have this ying yang thing going. Although they have opposing opinions on how food should be presented and savored, they also have this deep seeded connection that neither of them can deny.

JD has a way with his words, that flow in such a way that before you know it, you’ve reached the end of the book without any effort. At first, you don’t really know if you’re going to like Cole all that much. But as he opens up and we see the playful side of Cole that only Willow brings out in him, you start to melt a little and see Cole as the perfect man he is for the sassy Willow.

I’m not going to tell you anything about the story, because what fun is that. I definitely give Cocky Chef 5 stars and it left me wanting more from these two.

 

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She lets out a sigh of relief, but my cock hears something different in her gasping exhale. I bring my thumb slowly to a speck at the side of her mouth, fingers resting on the round perfection of her jawline. She stills under my touch and catches my gaze, time slowing with the deliberateness of my movements.

I brush the speck, but don’t pull away. Instead, I bring my thumb back across those ever-pouted lips, tracing their dip and fullness, letting her feel the texture of hands rough and scarred from a lifetime in kitchens, our eyes locked together in a moment of anticipation, emotions raging like an angry sea against the dam of the distance between us.

Her lips part slightly, I feel her shortening breath on my hand, and I push my thumb between those juicy, perfect lips, fingers pressing against the base of her ear. Her gentle gasp breaks the silence, before she closes those soft lips around my thumb, the sight of them pressing against my skin making my cock full against my pants. Her teeth gently squeezing my nail, tongue flickering as I push the finger inside the hot wetness of her mouth.

My other hand already on her waist, I pull her toward me, press her lithe body up against mine. Those magnificent hips swaying and rubbing against mine, her weight shifting onto me, breasts heaving, nipples so hard now I can feel them through that sweater dress.

“You’re fucking incredible,” I growl. Prelude to pulling her toward me, my finger in her mouth still, angling her head so I can taste the tenderness of her neck, run my sensitive tastebuds down the taut muscles, follow the path that leads me to the front of her chest. Quiet moans getting louder as I run my tongue down the softness of her cleavage, her dress my enemy now as I pull it down and bury my teeth in her breasts.

“Oh God…” she moans. “Cole…”

JD Hawkins writes erotic romance with modern-classic alpha males and strong, independant women. He currently lives with his wife in Los Angeles, CA. He loves to travel and has lived in many places, including New York City, India and Thailand. When he isn’t writing, JD enjoys surfing, training in Mixed Martial Arts, reading and taking naps. He’s always loved making up stories, especially ones inspired by real life.

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The Playboy Prince and the Nanny by Donna Alward

PPP and N Cover

Prince Diego Navarro is the “spare” to his brother’s “heir”. While Raoul performs his crown prince duties with the appropriate sense of nobility and poise, Diego’s garnered a bit of a reputation as a playboy – despite the good he does behind the scenes with his favorite charities.

But when tragedy strikes and his sister-in-law is killed in a car accident, Diego knows it’s time for the playboy to step up. If not for his brother, then for his niece and nephew, who now find themselves without a mother.

Which is where Rose Walters comes in.

Rose isn’t intimidated by money or glitz. The veteran nanny has worked for the rich and minimally famous, but a manor house is no comparison to a castle… or the handsome princes who live there. However, the worst thing she could possibly do is fall for the gorgeous playboy with a surprising heart of gold. He’s a prince; she’s the help. He lives in the tabloids; she loves her privacy. But when her two darling charges start to play matchmaker, Diego and Rose don’t stand a chance.

The Playboy Prince and the Nanny is the first book in Donna Alward’s royal duology.

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CHAPTER ONE

The noise and hubbub in the West Sussex pub was so deafening that Diego nearly missed the silent flash of the Breaking News banner across the TV behind the bar.

But he saw it out of the corner of his eye. Frowned. Turned his head away for a moment, then felt a queer lift in his gut, like something was very, very wrong.

“Diego. Hey, Diego.” His pal Ryan elbowed him in the arm. “Shite. You’d better look at this, mate.”

He turned back to the screen and the lift in his stomach dropped to his feet.

The headline scrolled along the bottom of the screen. White words against a blue background, innocuous compared to the aerial view of the scene. He didn’t need to read the banner to recognize the mangled car, one of the black limousines his father insisted they ride in when home in Marazur. If there was any doubt, it was banished by an up-close shot of a small red and yellow flag with the green coat of arms hanging limply from the front corner of the crushed vehicle.

“Diego.” Ryan’s voice was gentler now, his hand resting on Diego’s arm rather than elbowing him roughly. “It’s not your da. Or your brother.”

Diego dragged his gaze to the flash along the bottom of the screen. No, it wasn’t his father or his brother. There was no need for Diego to worry about them, or who was next in line for the throne. But tears stung his eyes as he read the names: Cecilia Navarro. Mariana Cortez.

His sister-in-law, and the nanny to his niece and nephew.

His phone buzzed. It had been doing that all night and he’d chosen to ignore it, wanting to avoid another argument with his father and spend the evening kicking back with his friends to celebrate the start of the UK polo season. Now he felt unbearably guilty as he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

Lucy, or rather, Princess Luciana. His half-sister, who he knew was visiting Marazur right now on one of her biannual trips. He took a deep breath, then hit the talk button. “Give me two seconds to go outside where it’s quiet,” he said loudly.

Leaving the gruesome news report behind, he pushed himself away from the bar and weaved his way through people until he reached the door. Outside, the English spring evening was gentle and mild. He closed his eyes and let out a breath.

“How bad is it, Luce?”

“Bad.” In that one word he could tell she’d been crying. Oh God . . .

“Ceci?”

“Gone, Diego.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Mariana too.”

For once the news had it right. His sister-in-law and Mariana—the nanny to his niece and nephew. His heart stuttered. He’d hoped there’d been a mistake. The paparazzi couldn’t be trusted with the truth, as he well knew. What a time for them to be right.

“The children?” he asked as he said a silent prayer that they hadn’t been in the car. He couldn’t think about Max and Emilia too much; he kept them at the edge of his mind and heart right now. The thought of losing them was terrifying and he steeled himself against the emotion.

“Bruised. Scared. But alive.”

He let out his breath, felt a sob escape, and gulped it back. He couldn’t lose his grip.

“We tried calling you for the last hour,” she said. “Your brother . . .”

His brother would be a wreck and expectedly so. His wife had just died. Perhaps a lot of royal marriages weren’t based on love, but Raoul’s had been. He’d doted on Ceci and the kids. Mariana, too, had been like part of the family. Hell, she’d been with the palace since . . .

Since Diego and Raoul had lost their own mother nearly twenty-five years ago. Mariana had raised them. She treated Raoul and Ceci’s children like grandkids. Grief struck him, sharp and sure, a painful ache around his heart. Mariana had been family.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, pressing the fingers of his left hand to his temple. Those were two words he said often when it came to his family. Now, though, he really meant them. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I know you will,” she said gently. Of the whole family, Lucy was the one who was easiest on him, who understood him best. Maybe because she hadn’t been raised in Marazur. It afforded her a clarity that others didn’t have. “I’m so glad I’m here right now. Papa . . .” Her voice broke again.

“Is Brody there with you?” Lucy and her family made their home in Canada, on Brody’s ranch, but visited often. Right now Diego found himself beyond thankful that she was there now to help his father and brother navigate the next few days. Papa would know what to do . . . he’d been here before.

A man shouldn’t have to face this kind of tragedy more than once in a lifetime.

“Brody’s here. He’s looking after Alex now so I can be there for Raoul and Papa.”

Lucy would be keeping everyone cared for and fed and nurtured, because that’s what she did. Diego rested his shoulders against the brick wall of the pub and sighed. Raoul, the crown prince, the responsible ruler-to-be, fair and just. Lucy, the mothering figure who cared for the family’s simpler but no less important needs. And then there was Diego. Where did he fit? In the stables. At parties. In fast cars.

In other countries. With firm admonishment to not be an embarrassment to the family.

“Diego?”

“I’m here. I’m going to go, though, Lucy. I need to make travel plans. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“What should I tell Papa and Raoul?”

“Nothing. I mean, just tell them you were able to reach me. I’ll look after the rest.”

There was a pause and Diego wondered if his sister was making that terrible disapproving face he hated or if she was simply emotional.

“I love you, Diego. Please fly safe.”

Emotional, thank God. He wasn’t sure he could take criticism right now. He nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “I will. I promise. See you soon.”

“E-mail your plans and I’ll have a car waiting for you.”

“You worry about yourself, and not me,” he ordered. “Love you.”

He hit the button on the phone, ending the call, and when he looked up he saw Ryan standing by the back door of the pub, watching him sadly.

“It’s bad, eh?” he asked, his brown eyes wide and too knowing.

“Cecilia,” Diego admitted. “And the nanny. The kids though . . .” Emotion swamped him and he drew in a shaky breath. “Thank God the kids are okay.”

Ryan came forward and clamped a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Looks like you have to go back to your castle then, doesn’t it?”

Diego smiled grimly. “I can’t stay away forever. And they need me. Of course I’m going back.” It had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with family. Of course, many believed that Diego didn’t value the idea of family as much as he should.

They couldn’t be more wrong.

He looked over at Ryan. The two of them had been best friends since he’d gone to Cambridge for his postgrad and joined the polo club. Diego, in a moment of hubris, had made an offhand remark about an Irishman playing polo, and the next thing he knew he’d been dusting the dirt off his perfectly creased trousers. Then Ryan O’Toole had held out his hand, pulled Diego to his feet, and said, “Come on, Your Highness. Let’s go get a pint.”

It had been many years since then, but the offer had been made several times, particularly when Diego needed it most. Tonight, though, it wouldn’t help.

“Anything I can do for you?” Ryan asked.

Diego smiled grimly. “The blonde at the bar. Go buy her a drink. I’m going to duck out early.”

Ryan nodded with a crooked smile. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Ryan went back inside, while Diego lifted his phone again and scrolled through until he found the number of his assistant. Not that he gave her much work when he was away from home, but tonight everyone on the staff would be up and alert.

And Diego would be going home.

 

One Month Later

Rosalie tried to focus on the words on the page, but they were all a blur. With a sigh, she closed the book and rested her hands on the cover, then turned to look out the airplane window. She wasn’t usually nervous before meeting a new family, or the children she’d be caring for. This was different, though. When the agency had called about her new placement, she hadn’t expected the job to be for the Royal Family of Marazur. She’d worked for minor nobility and rich families, traveling with them when the occasion warranted, but she’d never been to Marazur and she’d definitely never worked for a prince.

She knew of the island principality, of course. And she’d even had an encounter with the younger of the princes once, though he wouldn’t remember. Diego, she recalled, and shook her head. It wasn’t Diego she was going to work for. It was Raoul. She had been hired as a nanny to the crown prince’s children. The heirs.

“Ms. Walters? Make sure your seatbelt is on. We’re going to begin our approach soon. Can I get you anything before we land?”

Rosalie looked up at the sharply dressed attendant. Raoul hadn’t sent a royal jet or anything, but he had chartered a private flight. It was beyond anything Rose had ever experienced. “No, thank you,” she said with a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Very well. We should be on the ground shortly.”

Rose sat back in the comfortable leather and looked out over the Mediterranean. It had been nearly a month since televisions, newspapers, and magazines had been abuzz with the death of Princess Cecilia. They’d shown pictures of the funeral at the cathedral in the capital, a week after the accident. It had nearly broken her heart to see the crown prince, looking harrowed and drawn, holding the hand of his daughter while his son rested on his arm. King Alexander had looked tired, and Prince Diego had been uncharacteristically solemn as he sat with Princess Luciana and her family.

Once the funeral ended, though, so did the news story, and very little was heard of the family, left to heal their wounds in relative private. The media had moved on, but Rose knew the royal family were people like anyone else. Children who, when it came down to it, had lost their mother. All the wealth and privilege in the world couldn’t make up for that, and Rose knew she had her work cut out for her.

The plane landed smoothly at the relatively small airport. When she unbuckled her seatbelt, the flight attendant was at her side once more to collect her carry-on. Rose only had to grab her purse before she exited the plane, holding on to the railing as she descended the stairs to the tarmac.

“Miss Walters?”

A liveried man waited at the bottom of the stairs, and touched his hat as he greeted her. “I’m Marco. I’ll see you through customs and on to the palace.”

Good heavens. This was a tad surreal, wasn’t it?

She smiled politely at him. “That would be lovely, thank you, Marco.” The warm, moist air was perfumed with the scent of salt and flora that she knew must be present but couldn’t be seen here in the secure, paved area of the airport. The aroma clung to the warm rays of sun that were somehow far more penetrating than any in England.

It reminded her of the school trip she’d taken when she was twelve. It had been four days in Rome and she’d loved every colorful, rich, vibrant moment of it. It had been a long time since she’d visited the Mediterranean, and she was more than ready to leave the damp and fog of England for time in the sun.

She was here to work, but couldn’t escape the thought that this was also a bit of a fairy tale, really. Her assignments through the agency had been posh indeed, but nothing on this scale.

“Miss? If you’re ready.”

Marco had both of her cases and waited for her to make her way through the doors. To her continued surprise, she was escorted through customs without any wait or trouble, and in mere minutes found herself ensconced in the back of a limousine.

My word.

She was starting to get nervous now, and twisted her fingers together. Drew them apart again and wiped them on her black trousers, then regretted that too. She had to keep calm, cool, professional. This was her job. It wouldn’t do to be flustered and nervous.

The airport was on the outskirts of the city, and she peered out the window at the narrow streets and charming houses stacked on the hillside. Oh, on one of her days off she’d have to come down here and discover all the nooks and crannies. Have coffee or a glass of wine at a little cantina along a cobbled street. She was still thinking about it when the car began to climb and wind its way out of the urban area and along some of the most beautiful landscape she had ever seen.

Marco slowed and stopped at a huge set of gates, which swung open at their arrival. They crept at a sedate pace along a paved lane flanked with what looked like some sort of oak. Then she caught sight of it. The castle—home of King Alexander of Marazur. Turrets rose up, pinky-beige against the blue of the sky and the green of the manicured grounds. A hedge formed a kind of maze in the U-shaped drive, carefully trimmed and pruned. It was smaller than some of the manor houses she’d visited in England, but there was a grandeur to it just the same. And a hominess that she hadn’t expected. Perhaps it was due to the color of the stone, warmer and more welcoming than the cold, gray-white granite she was used to.

She ran through names in her head, desperate to make sure she adhered to the proper forms of address. King Alexander—clearly Your Highness. And how often would she see him anyway? Hardly ever. She’d be with the other household staff. She’d have to communicate with Raoul, she supposed. She would be required to curtsy. He was the crown prince and would be addressed as “Your Highness” as well. If the press was to be believed, Diego wouldn’t be home much and was unlikely to be around. The Sun had just posted pictures of him somewhere in South America.

After Marco pulled to a stop, Rosalie’s door was opened by another liveried staff. “Good afternoon, Miss Walters. Welcome to Marazur.”

She pasted on a smile and let out what she hoped was a centering breath. “Thank you.”

“His Highness is looking forward to meeting you at four o’clock in the blue salon.” Perhaps he’d noticed her shaky exhale, because the man dropped his stiff formality for a moment and smiled. “Don’t worry, Miss.” He held out his hand and gallantly helped her out of the car. “The prince is really very nice. And we’re all so glad you’re here.”

Before she could ask what exactly that meant, he dropped her hand and moved to collect her bags. She looked around, marveling at the calm beauty of the grounds. It was like a beautiful oasis, more lush than the surrounding countryside, with shrubs, graceful trees, and gardens of rioting blossoms. She gawked around her as they made their way down a neat path leading to the far side of the castle. And when the man opened the door to the north wing, Rose was relatively sure she’d just arrived in Paradise.

Copyright © 2017 by Donna Alward and reprinted by permission of Swerve.

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Who doesn’t love a royal romance? This girl sure does and The Playboy Prince and the Nanny is a perfect summer read.

Diego is the playboy prince, the spare heir, who is always in the public eye partying all over the world. So when his sister-in-law and former nanny die in a car accident, he rushes home to help support his brother, and takes on the task of hiring the new nanny for his niece and nephew. Despite what outward appearances may look like, Diego is committed to his family and only wants the best for everyone and takes what royal duties he does have very seriously. Once he gets everything situated at home for his niece and nephew, he’ll do what he does best… leave to help take the public eye off his brother and family. But then he meets Rose, and there is something about her that draws him in. There is instant chemistry between the two and Rose is the first person who truly seems to get him.

Rose is smitten with the charming Diego, but then again isn’t everyone? Little does he know that they had meet once before but as she spends more time with the Prince, she finds that there is more to him than meets the eye. But she also knows that there can never be anything between the two of them… or can there be. Diego is determined to show Rose that it doesn’t matter that she’s the nanny, but can Rose handle the scandals that dating the prince would bring to the not only the royal family but to her own?

I absolutely adored Rose and her gentle and caring nature. Her number on priority was and is always the children, which makes Diego fall even more for her. I loved the back and forth between Diego and he laid it all out for Rose. There are some truly swoon worthy moments and I loved the chemistry between these too.

I can’t wait for the second book in the series!

 

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Q:  Where did the idea for the plot come from?

A: The actual plot is a bit of a mashup, really. I wanted to write the stories about the two princes for a long, long time. In fact, I once proposed a version of the story to the Harlequin UK office when the Modern Extra line happened (I wasn’t a good fit. It makes sense now). At first there were no children in the stories, and the heroine was in the country on business… but then at some point it morphed into needing a nanny. It was one of those plots that evolved over time until I was ready to finally sit down and write it.
Q: Who is your favorite character? Why?

A: I really like Stephani. She’s a minor character in this book, and the heroine in the next one. She’s a bit of a mystery, really. Horribly efficient and flies under the radar a bit as Raoul’s Executive Assistant. She also plays fairy godmother to Rose, and I had a lot of fun with that.
Q: Who is your least favorite character? Why?

A: There’s only one character I don’t like, and I’m not telling because that would be a huge spoiler!
Q:  Which is your favorite scene in the book? Why?

A: The fountain in the garden on her first night at the palace. To be honest, when Diego looks down and sees her walking, it reminds me of Captain VonTrapp watching Maria in that oh-so-pivotal scene in The Sound of Music.
Q:  What do you most like to do when you are not writing?

A: Read, knit, walk, yoga…anything that can chip away at my stress level. J
Q:  What’s the story behind why and how you became an author?

A: In 2000, I ended up with a horrible case of Post-Partum Depression. About 14 months into my recovery, I was lamenting being “bored” – which had little to do with not having anything to do, and was really about not feeling challenged or inspired. My sister suggested I stop whining and write a book. So I did. And I fell in love with writing again (I have a degree in literature) and never looked back.
Q:  What is your favorite movie? Why? 

A: Oh my. Love Actually is one of my faves, but I really have SO many. Just last night I re-watched The American President. I love The Holiday. And Also The Last Holiday and Roman Holiday… hmmm, maybe I just like escapism? (Clearly with a palate cleanser of Sorkin dialogue!)
Q:  Are you thinking of releasing any more books anytime soon? 

A: Of course! You can look for a holiday novella on October 3, DECK THE HALLS, which is part of my Darling, VT series, and then the follow up to this release, THE CROWN PRINCE’S BRIDE, is out on January 9.
Q:  Nice cover! What’s the inspiration behind it? 

A: A Mediterranean destination, a castle, and a little intimacy during the off-hours? Heck yeah!
Q:  If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?

A: EUROPE. Lots of countries in Europe. I want to go on a European Tour (said in poncey accent). Seriously, though, I’d like to see more of the UK, then France, Germany, Italy, Spain… I’ve heard Prague is stunning and then there’s Portugal and Greece…
Q: Which part of the book was the most difficult to write, and why?

A: Actually, it was toward the end, when I had to pull Diego and Rose apart for a short time. It’s hard to keep the tension going when they’re on different continents! Thankfully it wasn’t for very long and Diego had to come home and face the music.

 

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Marti Corn Photography donna alward H-R 1600A busy wife and mother of three (two daughters plus the family dog), Donna Alward believes hers is the best job in the world: a combination of stay-at-home mom and romance novelist. Donna loves being back on the East Coast of Canada after nearly twelve years in Alberta where her romance career began, writing about cowboys and the west. She is the author of Somebody Like You, Somebody’s Baby, and Someone to Love.

 

 

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Drift by Amy Murray

Do you love emotional, swoon-worthy New Adult fiction and gorgeous covers? We do, too! And today we are thrilled to share an exciting look at an upcoming Entangled Embrace release that has us over-the-moon excited! Read on for all the details, and be sure to enter the amazing giveaway!

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DRIFT by Amy Murray

I’m not crazy. My mother may have died with everyone believing she was insane, but I refuse to accept that as my fate. Even if I am recalling memories about a life I never lived. A life that includes the mysterious James—a guy I’ve only just met, but feel as if I’ve known all my life. The memories are coming hard and fast, and I’m falling down a rabbit hole with consequences that far exceed anything I could have ever imagined. And now, someone is trying to kill me.

Someone from my past who knows about my visions and is looking for something he believes I took from him. All I have to do is figure out how these memories relate to the present and maybe I’ll survive to live another day.

Maybe…

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Amy Murray graduated from the University of Houston with a B.S. in Psychology. She and her family live in Cypress, Texas, and when she can’t escape to Galveston bay, she enjoys modern quilting.

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