The Weekly Edit

Billionaire Braden Black has one hard limit in the bedroom. He doesn’t talk about it, and he doesn’t engage in it. But when his lover, Skye Manning, begs him for it, he has to face facts—while he may be able to buy her anything, he can’t give her this. Though he loves her desperately, he’s starting to worry their relationship can’t continue.

Skye Manning has fallen down the rabbit hole and become captive to her needs. When Braden asks her why she desires something so dark, and she finds she can’t respond, she knows she’ll have to come up with those answers on her own. She’s willing, but she wants something in return—Braden’s complete honesty about his past.

Because Skye is convinced her needs, his limits…everything is tied to this one secret.

Start this amazing series off with Darkly, Follow Me Darkly told from the hero’s point of view, or spice up your reading with Braden’s story any time while enjoying the Follow Me series.

She wants his story. He wants his secrecy. Too bad he can’t stay away from her.

Molly

Blogging about bad dates used to be fun, but a girl can only take so much foolishness. So I broke up with my job.

Okay, full disclosure, I was fired. It’s a long, sordid tale, involving my sourdough starter—RIP, Fred!—and my ex-boss’s serious lack of humor.

Newly funemployed and in need of a break, I go to Asheville to dogsit for my sister…and stumble onto a scoop big enough to put my fake-dating days behind me forever.

Augusta Glower, local success story, wrote a bestseller about the self-help group she started. People think her system works, and copycat Bad Luck Clubs have sprung up nationwide. Something feels off, though, and a little poking around by yours truly suggests she stole the idea.

There’s one problem. I have to prove it, and the guy she ripped off—super-hot house flipper Caleb Reynolds—seems to…well, hate me. Which is too bad since his secrets aren’t the only thing I’d like to peel away.

* * *

Cal

Molly O’Shea is my worst nightmare.

Is she sexy as sin? Well…yeah. Does she smell like honeysuckle and trouble? No doubt. Is she determined to dig up my secrets with a backhoe? I’m pretty sure she got a two-week rental. But I’ll never talk. If the reason I started the club gets out, my whole life will implode.

So why is she so damn irresistible?

A woman looking for a new lease on life moves to Arizona where she rents a guest house on a gorgeous property with a mysterious owner—a man who teaches her about resilience, courage, and ultimately true love, in this funny, bighearted novel about hope and healing from New York Times bestselling author Jenn McKinlay.

Stuck in a dreary Boston winter, Annabelle Martin would like nothing more than to run away from her current life. She’s not even thirty years old, twice-divorced, and has just dodged a marriage proposal… from her ex-husband. When she’s offered her dream job as creative director at a cutting-edge graphic design studio in Phoenix, she jumps at the opportunity to start over.

When she arrives in the Valley of the Sun, Annabelle is instantly intrigued by her anonymous landlord. Based on the cranky, handwritten notes Nick Daire leaves her, she assumes he is an old, rich curmudgeon. Annabelle is shocked when she finally meets Nick and discovers that he’s her age and uses a wheelchair. Nick suffered from a stroke a year ago, and while there’s no physical reason for him not to recover, he is struggling to overcome the paralyzing fear that has kept him a prisoner in his own home.

Despite her promise to herself not to get involved, Annabelle finds herself irresistibly drawn to Nick. And soon she wonders if she and Nick might help each other find the courage to embrace life, happiness, and true love.

They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend—until they’re stolen.

Ania Throne is devoted to her jewelry company. The daughter of one of the world’s most famous jewelers, she arrives in Cannes with a stunning new collection. But a shocking theft by the notorious thief known as the Leopard throws her into upheaval—and plunges her on an unexpected hunt that challenges everything she believes.

Jerome Curtis thinks he’s seen it all, especially when it comes to crime. Until he’s hired to investigate the loss of Ania Thorne’s collection, his every skill put to the test as he chases after a mysterious master-mind responsible for some of the costliest heists in history—and finds himself in a tangled web with a woman he really shouldn’t fall in love with.

From the fabled Carlton Hotel to the elegant boulevards of Paris, Ania and Jerome must race against time to catch a thief before the thief catches them. With everything on the line, can they solve the steal or will the steal take more than diamonds from them?

Set in the late 1950s, THE STEAL is a romantic caper by bestselling authors C.W. Gortner and M.J. Rose.

We don’t get a lot of NBA superstars coming through little ol’ Pine Hill, Texas. That’s why everyone is all in a tizzy over the fact that the USA men’s Olympic basketball team will be training here of all places before this year’s Summer Games. With little else to talk about, rumors about the players have been spreading like wildfire, and there’s one man in the middle of it all holding a match.

Ben Castillo.
NBA champion.
Olympic gold medalist.
Widely hailed ‘King of the Court’.

The morning he walks into my dingy diner, I have enough sense to keep my head down and go right on wiping tables, pouring coffee, and serving up short stacks. A man who looks like that—superstar or not—has only ever meant trouble, and more trouble is the last thing I need, what with taking care of Nan and scraping by on tips from truckers.

If anything, he seems drawn to my indifference. His steely gaze pierces me behind the counter. My knees nearly buckle under the weight of his attention. But while Mr. Pretty Boy is probably used to snagging city girls with a smile, this gal is country strong.

I won’t be some clichéd convenience for him on his way through town.

So look over your choices carefully, Benny-boy. We serve up sides of hash browns here, not heartbreak.