New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnery started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract, and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Katy Regnery started her writing career by enrolling in a short story class in January 2012. One year later, she signed her first contract, and Katy’s first novel was published in September 2013.

Cover designed by: Hang Le: https://www.facebook.com/designsbyhangle
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography: https://www.facebook.com/WANDER.AGUIAR.PHOTOGRAPHY/
Model: Florian

It was never a question of love.
I knew I loved Elias Lancaster and that he loved me.
At least I always thought he did.
But for some reason, he always found an excuse not to be with me.
The pain I felt as my childhood love rejected me, again and again, after promising me the world when we were kids…
Well, it just wouldn’t go away.
No matter how hard I tried.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I never wanted to be considered desperate, but I knew if something didn’t change soon, I’d lose Elias for good and die of a broken heart.
No one told me how many times my heart could break in the process.
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Willow Aster is a USA Today Bestselling author and host of Living in the Pages podcast. She lives in St. Paul, MN with her husband, kids, and rescue dog.
Website: www.willowaster.com
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/willowasterauthor/
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Manhattan, a standalone in the Becker Brothers series is a small town, country, friends-to-lovers romance coming on December 19th. The fire… the guitar… THE FEELS!

Everyone knows not to fall in love with your best friend.
But when your best friend is Michael Becker, it’s impossible not to.
He’s everything our town knows a Becker brother to be: devastatingly handsome, charming as a thief, and the icing on the cake — a sentimental musician who’s never without his guitar.
And he was mine. At least, that’s what I’d convinced myself.
Our bond was born in elementary school, strengthened by circumstance and the promise to always be there for each other, no matter what. And the best thing about my life was being friends with Michael Becker.
Until it was the worst.
I watched him fall in love with someone else, and helped patch him back up when she left him behind. But when he drops the bomb that he’s moving to New York, I realize it’s my last chance to tell him how I feel. And I ask him to make one more promise.
One summer. One list of adventures to remind him that our small town has more to offer than memories of the girl who left him behind.
One last chance to tell him I’m in love with him.
And I’m just dumb enough to believe that maybe he could love me, too.

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Cover Artist: Kandi Steiner
Photographer: Lauren Perry of Perrywinkle
About Kandi:
Kandi Steiner is a bestselling author and whiskey connoisseur living in Tampa, FL. Best known for writing “emotional rollercoaster” stories, she loves bringing flawed characters to life and writing about real, raw romance — in all its forms. No two Kandi Steiner books are the same, and if you’re a lover of angsty, emotional, and inspirational reads, she’s your gal.
An alumna of the University of Central Florida, Kandi graduated with a double major in Creative Writing and Advertising/PR with a minor in Women’s Studies. She started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a diehard hopeless romantic, and likes to highlight all the challenges of love as well as the triumphs.
When Kandi isn’t writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys live music, traveling, anything heavy in carbs, beach days, movie marathons, craft beer and sweet wine — not necessarily in that order.
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SWAT Generation 2.0, Book 11
All he ever wanted was to matter to someone.
What he didn’t know was that he did matter to someone. Someone that worried about him every day that he was gone.
***
Malachi Gabriel Gnocchi was missing for two years. Thanks to a mission gone wrong, not only had he been captured, but his best friend along with his fellow teammates has been taken, too.
He spent two years in hell, hoping and praying that one day he’d get to go home.
And one day he does. Only, he isn’t the same person that left. Every single thing that make him Malachi is no more.
***
Sierra started writing to soldiers through the soldier pen pal program when she was in high school. Years later, she had no idea that the one soldier that she’d been paired up with in the very beginning would be the one man that would change her world eight years down the road.
When the letters from her soldier stopped, she knew that something bad had happened.
When they start back up again two years after the last letter, she thought that someone was playing a joke on her.
Only, that joke wasn’t a joke at all.
The man on the other end of those letters is a man that’s dying slowly from the inside out.
He’s a living, breathing mess and there’s only one thing she can do to help him.
Write him back and hope that she can bring him back from the dead.
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CODE OF SILENCE by Shantel Tessier
Release Date: January 13th
Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia
Add to Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48107416-cos
Blurb:
COS is a brand-new standalone from Bestselling Author Shantel Tessier. Releasing 2020.
“This isn’t a marriage. It’s a contract signed in blood.”
Full blurb coming soon!

About the Author:
Shantel is a Texas born girl who now lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her high school sweetheart, who is a wonderful, supportive husband and their two daughters. She loves to spend time cuddled up on the couch with a good book.
She considers herself extremely lucky to do what she does while getting to work from home. Going to concerts and the movies are just a few of her favorite things to do. She hates coffee but loves wine. She and her husband are both huge football fans, college and NFL. And she has to feed her high heel addiction by shopping for shoes weekly.
Although she has a passion to write, her family is most important to her. She loves spending evenings at home with her husband and daughter, along with their cat and dog.

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SEX AND OTHER SHINY OBJECTS by Lauren Blakely
Release Date: January 15th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Helen Williams
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✦Audible➜ Performed by
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With additional voices by Joe Arden and Erin Mallon
And cameos from Maxine Mitchell, Teddy Hamilton, Lili Valente and Kit Swann
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cameos from Maxine Mitchell, Teddy Hamilton, Lili Valente and Kit Swann
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Blurb:
The second the test-the-sexy-scenes offer landed in my lap, I said yes.
After all, I’ve been damn curious about a few things I’ve read in romance novels. Do buttons truly go flying across the floor when you rip off a guy’s shirt? Is staircase sex hella hot or does it leave you with a big old bruise mark on your back? And don’t even get me started on all that panty shredding, and whether it even works.
Time to find out as I embark on Project Sexy Scenes Research, at the request of my hotshot book editor bestie.
All I need is a willing scene partner. Enter Tristan, my best guy friend. The witty, tell-it-like-it-is, bearded hottie volunteers for the experiment.
He’s also the guy who gave me the most devastating, toe-curling kiss of my life ten years ago. But nothing has happened since then.
And nothing will come between my panties and our friendship now since we have a plan to keep it PG.
But once the buttons start flying, all bets are off…
About the Author:
A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sweet, sexy and witty. She also writes red-hot love stories for her Lauren Blakely After Dark line.
She’d love to give you a free book today! Check out her web site to grab your free read: https://laurenblakely.com/one-free-book/

Connect w/Lauren:
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NUMBER NEIGHBORS, an all-new, side-splittingly hilarious neighbors-to-lovers romcom from New York Times bestselling author, Emma Hart, and we have the fun, flirty new cover! Pre-order today so you don’t miss it on March 24th!
What happens when your number neighbor turns out to be your hot, British, next-door neighbor?
BLURB
Bad Idea #241: Sending a dirty text to your number neighbor.
In my defense, my friends did it too, and their neighbors took it as the joke it was.
Mine didn’t.
He responded with a dirty text of his own. Next thing I know, I have a standing texting date every night at ten-thirty.
Until I have to miss it because the stray kitten who adopted me one week ago is sick. The only person I know who can help me at this time of night is my British next-door neighbor and local vet, Isaac Cooper.
I’ll keep him overnight, he says. Here’s my number to call me in the morning, he says.
The problem?
I know that number.
Because I’ve been texting it every night for the last four days.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Apple Books | Kobo | Nook
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.
Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.
Yes, really. She’s that sarcastic.
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Intense.
Sexy.
Unforgettable.
They promised they would never see each other again, but fate had other plans.
Andrew’s entire life has been spent working toward one goal—to own the top advertising and public relations company in the world. He’s driven, ruthless when it comes to business, never letting anything stand in his way . . . until Grace.
Grace has worked hard to build her advertising career. She’s fiercely talented and dedicated to her clients. Grace has no interest in getting involved with a man when she knows her focus should be on her career and paying off her mounting debt.
Andrew knows better than to get involved with a woman who is completely off limits, but he never backs down from what he wants, and he won’t stop until Grace is his . . . only this might cost him more than he’s willing to give.

Pre-order your copy today!
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Cover Designed by: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

About Rebecca
Rebecca Shea is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Unbreakable series (Unbreakable, Undone, and Unforgiven), the Bound & Broken series (Broken by Lies and Bound by Lies) and two stand alone novels, Dare Me and Fault Lines. She has also co-written two books with her friend, A.L. Jackson, The Hollywood Chronicles: One Wild Night and One Wild Ride
She lives in Phoenix, Arizona with her family. From the time Rebecca could read she has had a passion for books. Rebecca spends her days working full-time and her nights writing, bringing stories to life. Born and raised in Minnesota, Rebecca moved to Arizona in 1999 to escape the bitter winters.
When not working or writing, she can be found on the sidelines of her sons football games, or watching her daughter at ballet class. Rebecca is fueled by insane amounts of coffee, margaritas, Laffy Taffy (except the banana ones), and happily ever afters.
Connect with Rebecca
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Website: https://www.rebeccasheaauthor.com

Release Date: December 5th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2Y9Oupy

FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
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Blurb:
Want to know a secret?
It’s about that girl over there.
Don’t look, but she’s the one in the power suit—with the long, black hair and the serious expression, the one I’m about to go on a date with . . .
Yeah, according to her, she “accidentally” donated an obscene amount of money to my charity — The Lineup — to win said date but I found out the truth. Miss. Button Up Blouse has a secret, passionate crush on me.
I didn’t know her name until two days ago, despite the friends we have in common.
Was I oblivious? Probably.
Was I blind to it? Definitely.
But I’m no fool, I see it now. The High Heel Harlot wants more than just a date with Jason Orson, she wants to be able to claim the best butt in baseball as hers.
Here’s another secret . . . she has no idea I know.

EXCERPT:
**JASON**
It isn’t in my nature to cry over burnt ham, but here I am, tearing up like a jackass, because the meal I’ve been reluctantly slaving over for the past four hours is two shades away from charred dust.
I had it all planned out. The timing was right, the recipes perfected, the table decorated with impeccably folded napkins that impersonated angelic swans, and polished silver that I scrubbed for an hour until I could see my balls in the reflection. Nothing says polished silverware like a spoon that gives you a clear upside-down view of your gonads.
But even with countless hours of preparing this feast, naked as the day I was born with only an apron to cover my man-loins, I still ended up with a scorched ham doused in fire extinguisher agent because somehow, the damn thing caught on fire.
Imagine this, a grown-ass man—no, not just a grown-ass man, but a man at the fresh age of twenty-eight, built like a linebacker with buttocks you can bounce rocks off . . . thanks to squatting for a living—dancing around the kitchen on his twinkle toes, arms flailing with pink and white potholders attached to his hands, screaming like a banshee, as flames light up the Jenn-Air double oven where the brown sugar and pineapple ham resided.
Are you seeing it?
Add the imagery of said man naked, dick and balls harmoniously bouncing in panic while the apron his “girlfriend” got him that says Eat my food, Lick my dick, unravels in the fit to unleash the fire extinguisher.
That was me . . . a minute ago.
Frantic, screaming, and all in all losing any last shred of my man card I had left.
It’s why I’m currently weeping like a nitwit into the flaps of my apron, wondering where I went wrong.
If we’re going to be honest with each other—and I would like to establish honesty with you—I’ll admit, I’ve always leaned toward the sensitive side. You know, the cuddly grizzly bear. Big and intimidating but a fucking gooey butterball heart on the inside.
Tell me a love story. I’ll listen the crap out of it.
The Bachelor? Why yes, that’s one of my favorite shows.
Do I smile when sharing a candlelit dinner with myself, followed by a nice long soak in a bubble bath while Enya—the fucking goddess of all voices—plays in the background? I sure as shit do.
But if some ignorant asswipe gets in my face on the ball field, stirring up trouble, I’m the first to lay a fist across his jaw and the first to be thrown out of a game.
And I’m not even sorry about it.
People are arriving in an hour. I’m vulnerable as fuck with my bare ass resting against the cold white-oak floor of my girl’s apartment, while a lonely tear streams down my freshly shaven cheek. I have no main dish, and the apartment smells like burnt rabbit turd.
Why am I in this hopeless predicament?
Because of one person.
One single person who flipped my life upside down.
A bombshell in a suit, a ravenous sex-fiend in the sheets, a classy and sophisticated tight-ass in the boardroom. She’s a knockout who’s always on my mind. She’s the girl you do things for, that you never thought you’d ever do . . .
Like cook a fancy-as-fuck four-course meal for her and her business associates while practicing interesting conversational starters to ensure the night flows smoothly.
Back in college, I might have been referred to as the mother hen of the boys. I might have cooked at least two meals a week for the guys in the loft, and yeah, I was the ironing wizard, the one everyone turned to, to get out the most stubborn wrinkles. The title has carried on over the years, but my creativity in the kitchen has dwindled with the lack of time, my ironing is now done by my apartment keeper once a week, and the fresh flowers scattered around my place? They’re more dead now than alive.
My point—I’m not the lady of the house I used to be. But I’ve been getting back into the swing of it.
So when my girl asked me to perform the impossible feat of an intimate dinner for four, I should have ordered in, tossed everything in serving dishes, and called it a night.
But nooooooooo, I had to attempt to be a goddamn hero and try to cook everything myself.
And all for what?
For one girl?
No. Not just one girl. The girl who owns my balls, who has a grip so tight on them that if she asked me to bellow out my ABCs in soprano while swirling my finger around my belly button . . . I would.
Who is this girl that has brought me to the brink of boo-boo smush bear insanity and caused me to weep like a schoolgirl in the corner of the apartment?
There’s only one lady with more than enough ovaries to buckle the knees of the mighty Jason Orson.
The one and only Dorothy “Dottie” Domico.

About the Author:
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.

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Amazon:
Celeste
I’ve had enough of waiting for something, anything to happen with Greyson Michaels.
But he’s bound by a promise.
Though we aren’t little anymore.
And we don’t need anyone’s approval.
We’re adults, free to make our own choices.
And I don’t see a single reason to not have Greyson Michaels take all of me!
But with the level of drama surrounding us, our story won’t ever be easy…
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FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED!
Greyson
Seatbelt secure, I stepped hard on the peddle. The car lunged forward and the Kona Blue Mustang reached 60 miles per hour within seconds, and I continued to push the limits. I pressed the clutch to the floor and maneuvered the shifter. Instantly, the low rumble of the exhaust turned to a powerful roar. Bold lights and a vast skyline were blocked by high-rises, becoming blurred lines beyond the windshield. The closer I moved to my destination, the further I drifted from a world of darkness. With corruption looming behind me, I welcomed the light dangling in front of me.
Her light…
My flight got in late to JFK, so now I had to deal with a shitload of traffic heading into Midtown Tunnel. But then a black Yukon Denali drew down on my bumper and flashed its lights about ten times. I let the idiot have fun until we got out of there. From every angle, traffic held steady, but I couldn’t let other drivers keep me from getting to her. At 9:30 on a Friday night, I didn’t have time for this shit.
I caught a break and swerved out of the lane; the Denali followed, lights blinking like before. This was the shit, the childish shit that transferred from childhood to adulthood. And unfortunately, I knew the asshole: my brother, Detective Brendan Michaels.
Not now! Not today! I caressed the wheel, squeezing tighter than before. This was nonsense, but I wasn’t up for the bullshit tonight. So I flashed him off and kept going. Now wasn’t the time for complex family issues. Plotting out my route, I slowly began ramping up the speed.
A red SUV sat in the left lane, in front of me, while a shuttle limo tried to box me in on the right. Dropping my speed enough to force the asshole to pass, I shifted down and cut behind him, skipping over to the second lane in time to trap the idiot trailing me. This was the type of shit that always occurred whenever I made it to the city because he had connections to track me down once I entered his state and mostly importantly, enjoyed riding his younger brother. But I needed the next 2 or 3 hours, just for me and the girl that haunted my dreams.
Holding the wheel steady while keeping the pace, I said, “Call CeCe!” Saying her name nearly took my breath away. If nothing else, life thought me that first love spoiled a man for everyone else.
Thumbing the wheel and waiting to hear her shriek my name, I didn’t breathe. Honestly, I’ve faced off with some of the worse scum to walk this earth, yet she had the ability to crush me. The guys I went up against could only hurt the outer me; CeCe, on the other hand, could shred me from the inside out.
“Greyyy!” Her voice snapped me out of the daydream. “Greyyy!”
“Hey girl,” I muttered, scared like hell of sounding too anxious or desperate. I even sat up in the seat, gripping tighter on the wheel with both hands.
“Don’t tell me you’re not coming, Greyson! The last time you were in town, you promised every month. How long has it been?”
“Ce—“
“No, no you better not disappointment me!”
“I wouldn’t ever do that, CeCe.”
“Don’t patronize me, Greyson!”
“My flight was late, and I’m in traffic. Have you left home yet?” With each word, I tried like hell to slow the heartbeats.
“I’m already on my way,” she sang into the line and it took me back to when we were little kids. I could imagine her lips—the way they’d poke out, pointing at me. And when she’d tilt up her head to gaze into my eyes, looking me full on, pupils diving past the barriers most girls would be too afraid to challenge.
“I can pick you up. Need more time? Where—”
“No… No… And hell no! You’re meeting me, as planned. I need a friendly face. It’s been a long week, Grey. You owe me tonight …” While she went on and on about my disappearing acts, I shot to the exit. Flooring the pedal, then quickly easing into a smooth stop at East 35th Street.
“Celeste, I don’t know what the hell you just said.”
She laughed and I could picture her shaking her head, swooping her long, blonde hair from shoulder to shoulder in a flirty way. I know this girl; shit, I’ve known this girl since her arguments were nothing more than whiny sentences. I’ve known her since those big, blue eyes were even bigger; when her nosey, little ass would come all the way over to my parent’s house, up the street, just to find out what I was doing so she could have something incriminating over my head at any given time. I’ve always known her likes and dislikes, even more than she’d admit to herself even.
That’s the girl I fell for.
I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did. I fell in love with my best friend’s sister, and I don’t know how to turn off the feelings because something inside of me wanted to go against a childish promise and make her mine. Ours might’ve been a perfect love, if we were different people—if she wasn’t his sister and I wasn’t the man I’d grown into.
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