New Release + Release Blitz: Mum’s the Word by Staci Hart

Staci Hart fans, the day you’ve been waiting for is here! MUM’S THE WORD, the final installment in Staci’s Bennet Brothers Series, is LIVE! Trust me when I say you do NOT want to miss this one! Maisie & Marcus are epic, so make sure and grab your copy today!

 

 

Falling in love with a Bennet is not an option.

My mother has summoned me home to take my place at Bower Bouquets, and as the heiress, I’m expected to do as I’m told. I’m expected to sit by her side as she does her best to decimate the Bennet family and their flower shop, Longbourne. I’m expected to play by her rules, or she’ll ruin me too.

But the day I crash into Marcus Bennet changes everything.

And the kiss seals the deal.

If my mother finds out, I’ll lose everything—my family, my life, my security. Worse, she’ll make sure the Bennets pay for my mistakes.

Falling in love with a Bennet is not an option.

But I might not have a choice.

 

Download your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2PDByns

Amazon Worldwide: https://amzn.to/2Gpkazd

Nook: http://bit.ly/38KdzLL

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2tXt83T

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2Ry1y6r

 

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/3aS2Qk6

 

 

Binge the series! 

Coming Up Roses (Bennet Brothers #1)
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3416CoD
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2RPqtkE

Gilded Lily (Bennet Brothers #2)
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2w40Tll
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2VIpSoH

About the Author

AuthorPics.jpg

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en
Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/
Website: http://stacihartnovels.com
Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/
Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

New Release + Blog Tour + Excerpt + 4.5 Star Review: Gilded Lily by Staci Hart

The wait is over! Gilded Lily, the second standalone in Staci Hart’s Bennet Brothers Series, is LIVE! Trust me when I say you do NOT want to miss this one! Lila & Kash are everything. Grab your copy today on Amazon or snag this beauty in Kindle Unlimited today!

They say there’s no such thing as perfect. But I’ve built my life to perfection—the perfect boyfriend, the perfect apartment, the perfect career planning celebrity weddings. My job—my only job—is to make sure every event is absolutely and completely perfect. What’s not perfect? Kash Bennet. And I wish I didn’t find that so appealing. I could have told you every perfectly imperfect thing about the gardener at Longbourne. Like his hair, lush and black and far too long. Or his nose, the flat bridge of a Greek god, bent a little like it’s been broken. Or his size. Beastly. Roped and corded with muscles, gleaming with sweat and peppered with dirt. There’s no escaping him, not if I’m going to use his family’s flower shop for my events. But nothing is what it seems. And in the span of a heartbeat, my perfect life is turned inside out. They say the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody new. When Kash offers his services to the cause, it sounds like the perfect plan. What’s not part of the plan? Falling in love with the gardener. But they were right—there’s no such thing as perfect. And I’m the fool who finds out the hard way.

A SPADE’S A SPADE

KASH

Heaven existed within the walls of our greenhouse.

The shuck of my shovel against the iron wheelbarrow was the second hand on my day. Rich soil mounded on my spade, and I transferred it into the bed of Black-eyed Susans, turning it to feed the sleepy dirt already gathered at the flowers’ feet. I caught sight of the snowy top of my father’s head between stalks of amber amaranth down the row where he knelt, hands in the earth. He hummed along with the music playing from the portable speaker on our work cart, and with another shuck, I drove my shovel back into the wheelbarrow. It was peaceful and familiar, the rhythm of our day, the slanting sun, the humid air and smell of flowers. I’d worked in my family’s greenhouse during high school—as had all my siblings—but where they made their way into the world, I hung back, content to hang back at Longbourne with Dad, unable to leave Mom without anyone to fuss over. And if there was one thing Mrs. Bennet required from life, it was someone to fuss over. I found myself smiling at the thought. She’d see us all married off—in fact, she played the matchmaker like it was her full time job—but I had to wonder what she’d do with herself once we were all gone. Press us for grandchildren and divert her attention to them, if the rest of the Bennet brood was lucky. The crack of the swinging metal door against the wall wiped that smile off my face. I shot up from my task with a hard look, appalled and accusing, prepared to smite whoever had disturbed our sanctuary. Lila Parker blew in like a gale, heels clicking like hammers against the cement floor. At the sight of her, my fury abated, replaced by a curious wonder and the incremental slowing of time that always accompanied her entrance. She was a study in white, pristine and stern in a pantsuit that belonged in some fancy lady’s luncheon, not a greenhouse. Her legs were ten miles long in those white pants, the matching jacket cut low. A sliver of silken nude fabric was the only thing to mar the line of her cleavage, which my eyes followed before climbing up her lily-white skin, up the long column of her neck, to the set of her uncompromising little jaw. God, she was pretty when she was mad. Shame she had a boyfriend. I’d known Lila since high school, the notorious rule follower and teacher’s pet, thumbing her nose at the trouble the rest of us got in and refusing invitations to parties in favor of SAT prep. Her sister, Ivy, worked here then and stuck around like I had, and though Lila’d had every opportunity to join the gang, she’d happily declined. She’d ignored me then, and she ignored me now, outside of storming into our flower shop to get onto us—or me specifically—for whatever wedding we had, were, or would provide flowers for. As a high-profile wedding planner, I supposed that was her right. The only bearable thing about it was the chance to give her just a little hell, simply because I knew she could take it and I could take whatever she gave back. As she approached, her lips set in a firm line, red as blood against the milk of her skin. The bridge of her nose was short, though long enough to look down at everyone from her high horse—or high heels, as it were—but her eyes always struck me beyond all else, cool and gray as a winter’s afternoon, tight with suspicion, hard with the bite of demand. Incongruent to the impeccable, pallid shades of snow was her hair, a shining crimson too bright for all that ivory. It was as perfectly right as it was utterly unnatural, the only indicator that she ran on hot coals and gasoline, just waiting for a match to strike so she could ignite. Just as she had once a week—typically in my direction—since she’d started using Longbourne’s flowers for her events. That red hair bounced with every click of her heels as she rounded the corner of the aisle and marched toward me, her eyes narrowing another tick when they met mine. Tess, our lead florist, followed with an apologetic look on her face. My lips tilted higher on one side. And with a shield of calm, unaffected charm in place, I leaned on the handle of my shovel, ready to catch whatever Lila threw at me. “Coral,” she snapped as she approached. “You were supposed to give me coral chrysanthemums for the Berkshire wedding, and you sent pink.” She stopped a few feet in front of me, crossing her arms. I offered an easy smile. “I cut those flowers myself, picked the best stock from our Gigi mums, just like you asked.” “Then why were they the wrong color? Do you have any idea the tantrum Johanna Berkshire threw over those flowers? She tried to get me fired.” A chuckle through my nose. “Sounds like she needs to get some real problems.” She eyed me as she drew a breath to fuel her furnace. “For years, my sister has begged me to bring Longbourne business, and I refused for exactly this reason. If it hadn’t been for all your recent press, I never would have put my ass on the line. But if I say coral, I expect coral. Not pink. Not fuchsia. Not goddamn watermelon or flamingo or anything but coral.” “Sorry, Ms. Parker,” I answered lazily. “Won’t happen again.” “You’re damn right it won’t.” “How about we issue the Berkshires a partial refund for the trouble?” Suspicion sparked in her gaze. “I’m sure that would help.” “Then consider it done.” Those cool eyes narrowed even more. “I need someone to come to a venue in Midtown to measure for arbors and garlands. They’ve requested an archway, and one of you needs to come take the measurements.” Dad cast me a glance that said not it. The way Tess glared at the back of Lila’s head, I figured she’d just as soon claw her in the back with a hand rake than help her measure anything. Lila’s sister Ivy—who was a florist at Longbourne—was entirely too pregnant to measure anything but her uterus, and Wendy, our newest addition, just wasn’t experienced enough. My brother Luke might have done it, but something told me I wanted to be the one to handle Lila Parker. “Sure. When and where?” “Tomorrow, if you can manage it. I can meet you at three, 49th and 5th. I’m going to need an archway long enough for the wedding party to stand inside, and the arbor will need a special design built in the shape of a triangle. It’s at the—” She paused, lips flattening. “Shouldn’t you be taking notes?” I tapped my temple. “Got it all right here.” Color rose in her cheeks as she drew a slow breath through her nose. “I really think you should write it down.” “What, don’t trust me?” “I don’t know what instills more faith—that you can’t tell the difference between shades of pink or that your shirt says Can You Dig It? on the front.” I glanced down at my chest, flicking at a streak of dirt like I gave a shit what she thought. “Listen, Priss. I’ll be where you say, when you say, ready and at your service.” A pause while she stared me down, seeming to weigh her options. “All right, Filthy. Can you at least wear a clean shirt? This venue books for two-hundred-thousand per event, and I don’t want to have to get you in through the service entrance.” “Deal,” I said, extending a hand in challenge. It was as filthy like she’d said, with crescents of dirt under my nails and enough soil in the creases of my palms to grow zucchinis. Her eyes dropped to my hand, and for a moment, I was positive she’d refuse. But somewhere in that pretty little head of hers existed some form of manners and a healthy helping of pride, so she slipped that spotless, manicured hand into my dirty, callused one. It was soft and warm, though her fingers were strong, gripping my hand and pumping it once, firm and definitive, before taking it back. Instantly, I felt guilty for daring her—her skin was spoiled with streaks and flecks of dirt. To her credit, she didn’t even dust it off. Instead, she held up her chin and gave me a quietly confrontational glare. “I’ll give Ivy the exact address. At least I know she’ll write it down.” “Whatever you have to do,” I said, returning my forearm to the handle of the shovel, not missing the flick of her eyes to my shoulders and the cross of my arms. “Tomorrow, then. Don’t be late.” She tugged tugged the hem of her jacket, straightening it to match the yardstick that was her spine, and once again I lamented taking her hand. A scuff of dirt now sullied the very edge of that white tailored coat. Before I could apologize, she turned on her heel to walk away. What she didn’t realize—the cat had taken up post directly behind her. The moment stretched as she tilted in a successful attempt to avoid impaling Brutus with her heel, and when that heel came down, it caught in the seam of concrete. Her long legs twisted, arms shooting out for balance but finding none. Fast, but not fast enough, I moved for her, the shovel hitting the ground with a clang as that pristine white ass of hers landed flat in the Black-eyed Susans and that fresh coat of soil I’d just laid down. Brutus took a seat next to Tess’s feet, curling his tail around himself and watching Lila with what I swore was a wry smile. My urge to laugh was so intense, it caught in my chest, frozen by the sheer outrage on her face and utter hysteria of the sight of her, so clean and white against the browns and greens and golds of the flowerbed. A slow heave of her chest as she breathed fire. The pink of her cheeks flaring to red. The gray of her eyes igniting into a cruel shade of blue, illuminated by the inferno of her thoughts. I stepped up, unable to school my face as I extended a hand, this time to help her up. But she scowled, slapping my hand away. “I’ve got it,” she shot, planting her palms in the dirt to push herself up. As I backed out of the way, I watched her swipe at her ass, too furious to realize she’d only smudged the dirt around. Tess removed her hands from her mouth, unable to right her face any better than I had. “Here, let me help you—” “I said, I’ve got it.” Lila’s voice was deadly calm, and at the sound, Tess pinned her lips between her teeth and stepped out of the way. “Tomorrow,” Lila snapped at me over her shoulder, smoothing the shining waves of her hair, which remained undisturbed by her tumble. “See you then,” I answered with a nod. And then I watched that dirty ass stride proudly out the door. The second it swung closed, laughter bubbled out of Tess, and at the sound, there was no containing my own. Even Dad joined in, shoulders shaking gently. “Oh, the poor Susans,” Tess said, swiping at a tear. “Look, her ass print is still there,” she squeaked before succumbing to another bout of laughter. “The look on her face,” I said with the shake of my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody so mad. Not even you, Tess.” “And that’s saying something,” she added, resting her palm on her belly like she’d just done a hundred sit-ups. “God, if Ivy and Lila didn’t look like twins, I’d never believe they were related.” “I didn’t remember her being this…” I started. “Bitchy?” “I was gonna say bossy, but okay.” Tess sighed. “She wasn’t kidding about sticking her neck out. She’s handling this huge celebrity wedding on her own, and her senior is a total asshole, breathing down her neck and micromanaging her at every turn. Addison is constantly looking for reasons to throw Lila under the bus, and if we screw up, Addison will blame Lila. But even though she’s a pain, the business is good for us. Archer Events handles the biggest weddings in the city, and that’s putting us in the spotlight. We’ve just gotta deal with all the stress that comes with doing weddings.” “Like bridezillas and entitled wedding planners?” I asked. “Exactly.” Tess sighed. “Although, I don’t know what we’re going to do with Lila when Ivy is on maternity leave and isn’t here to manage her. Today was bad enough, and Ivy was just at a doctor’s appointment.” Dad dusted off his hands. “If she got past you, Tess, I fear for us all.” “I tried to tell her it wasn’t your fault,” Tess said, her eyes full of apology. “Those flowers went through three florists before it got to the wedding—which I told her—but she stormed right past me to yell at you about it.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, Tess—I can handle her.” At the disbelieving quirk of her mouth, I added, “I mean it. She can get as mad as she wants and I won’t get riled. I’ll hold the bucket so she can dump all her rage into it, and when she’s empty of it, I’ll get whatever done that she needs done. Trust me when I promise you this—Lila Parker cannot get to me.” At that, Tess laughed. “Famous last words.” And oh, if I’d only known how right she was.  

Tracey’s Review

I have a confession to make up front…I have never read a book by Staci Hart before. Why, I couldn’t tell you, because I sure loved the heck out of GILDED LILY, the second book in her Bennet Brothers series. I wasn’t sure that this book was going to work for me, because, at first meeting, Lila was not my most favorite character. Driven, totally Type A, and not particularly nice, Lily has worked hard to secure her place as event planner to the A-list. But as I got to see more of her, and especially after spending more time with Kash, a whole other side of Lila emerges, and it’s like the sun coming out. Kash, the master gardener, nurtures and cares for her in a way that previous lovers have not, and the Lila that emerges is lovely in every way. Kash. Kash Bennet is the real deal of book boyfriends, y’all. He is the most literally down-to-earth of the Bennets, being so like his father, and his earthiness, his easiness about himself and with others, make him an ‘0h, my gosh, yes’ kind of hero. And, although it doesn’t seem like it to start, he is just what Lila needs, and, surprisingly, she is perfect for him, as well. GILDED LILY is an easy 4.5 star read for me, and one that I happily recommend. It is witty, sensual, and heartwarming, and should be on the book stacks of romance readers everywhere. Now, for the rest of the Bennets… ❤️
 

Want more Bennet Brother goodness?

Grab Coming Up Roses, the first stand alone in the Bennett Brothers series, available now on Amazon in Kindle Unlimited!

Everyone hates parts of their job. Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave. But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all. Except for Luke Bennet. The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint. When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him. Almost. He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him. Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet. Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Website | Newsletter

Cover Reveal: Gilded Lily by Staci Hart

Gilded Lily, the second in the Bennett Brothers series from Staci Hart, is coming in only 17 days. I am so excited! Check out the beautiful cover for this upcoming release. I love the vibe of this series and the covers are to die for! Mark your calendars for December 5th!

They say there’s no such thing as perfect. But I’ve built my life to perfection—the perfect boyfriend, the perfect apartment, the perfect career planning celebrity weddings. My job—my only job—is to make sure every event is absolutely and completely perfect.

What’s not perfect? Kash Bennet.

And I wish I didn’t find that so appealing. I could have told you every perfectly imperfect thing about the gardener at Longbourne. Like his hair, lush and black and far too long. Or his nose, the flat bridge of a Greek god, bent a little like it’s been broken. Or his size. Beastly. Roped and corded with muscles, gleaming with sweat and peppered with dirt.

There’s no escaping him, not if I’m going to use his family’s flower shop for my events.

But nothing is what it seems. And in the span of a heartbeat, my perfect life is turned inside out.

They say the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody new. When Kash offers his services to the cause, it sounds like the perfect plan.

What’s not part of the plan? Falling in love with the gardener.

But they were right—there’s no such thing as perfect.

And I’m the fool who finds out the hard way.

 

Add GILDED LILY on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2Kx0QSO

 

Want something to read while you wait? Grab Coming Up Roses, the first stand alone in the Bennett Brothers series, available now on Amazon in Kindle Unlimited!

Everyone hates parts of their job.
Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.
But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.
Except for Luke Bennet.
The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint. When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him. Almost.
He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.
Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.
Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Website | Newsletter

New Release + Blog Tour: Coming Up Roses by Staci Hart

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Coming Up Roses, an all-new must read enemies to lovers romantic comedy from Staci Hart is available now!

CUR-ebook

Everyone hates parts of their job.

Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.

But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.

Except for Luke Bennet.

The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint.

When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him.

Almost.

He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

CUR_ReleaseDayGraphic.v3

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2YNokrl

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ComingUpRosesSH

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2F2RTOF

everyone-hates

Excerpt:

I wanted to kiss Tess Monroe.

I’d wanted to kiss her the second she walked into the shop a couple days ago, wearing overalls and a Cure T-shirt. I’d wanted to kiss her as I watched her scrub the wall with her little face wrinkled up in concentration. I’d wanted to kiss her when she fell off the ladder and into my arms. And all day today while we painted the shop, I only thought about one thing.

I wanted to kiss her. And I was accustomed to getting what I wanted.

“Did you hear me?” Kash asked impatiently.

“Hmm?”

He rolled his eyes, his long body stretched out on the bottom bunk in our old room. “Man, what’s with you?”

“I’ve been scrubbing and painting the shop for two days. I’m tired.”

“Right,” he said, “and the redhead in the overall shorts has nothing to do with it.”

I leaned back in the wooden desk chair I’d taken up residence in, the hinge squeaking. “As if Tess Monroe would willingly give me the time of day.”

He shrugged. “Seems to me like she’s given you the time every hour, on the hour, for two days. What’s with her? She was different today.”

It was true. This morning, she’d walked into the shop, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to work with a smile on her face. She’d only insulted me seven times, and one of those was a backhanded compliment. My stats were down: the day before, it’d been twenty-three insults and a jab with a broom handle that I couldn’t be sure was accidental.

Not that I was counting.

“I dunno what’s gotten into her, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. I’m just taking the boon and moving on.”

“Man, she looked so cute with that bandana in her hair and paint on her nose. And her ass in those overalls…” He whistled up at my old bunk.

I fought the urge to chuck my Batman paperweight at him.

“So are you going after her or what?” Kash asked, smirking.

“I just got her to quit treating me like a dog. Pretty sure anything more is off the table.”

“Maybe I’ll go after her then. Think I’ve got a shot?”

I snorted to cover my immediate fury at the thought. “She’s a girl with standards, Kash. If I don’t have a shot, you’ve got none in hell.”

“Maybe she just needs somebody older. More mature.”

“We were born in the same year, asshole.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe she’s looking for stability. Everybody knows you’re about as stable as uranium.”

“And you’re running your mouth like you want a foot in Uranus.”

Kash laughed. “I’d love to see you try.”

I eyed him. “You don’t actually like her, do you?”

“Nah,” he said, smiling. “I just want you to admit you do.”

A sigh of concession blew out of me, the pause filled with my thoughts. “We almost kissed yesterday,” I admitted.

Kash sat up so fast, he thunked his head on the bottom bunk. “Goddammit—” He rubbed at his forehead “—Warn a guy before you go saying things like, I almost kissed Tess.

I laughed openly at his misfortune, hoping it left a mark. “She fell off a ladder in storage, and I caught her. Topless.”

His eyes bulged, hand still pressed to his forehead. “Tess was topless in storage?”

“No, I was.”

He rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at me. I caught it midair and chucked it right back at him.

“I’m surprised she didn’t deck you,” he said, fluffing the pillow before leaning back again.

“Me too, if I’m being honest. She hates me. Hated me. Maybe still hates me a little.”

“What’d you do to her?” he asked. At this point, the question was rhetorical—neither of us knew, no matter how many times we’d asked.

“Who knows? But I think the last couple of days have helped my case. All I had to do was show up and not fuck up.”

“Don’t worry. There’s still time,” he reassured me.

“Trust me, I’m aware. I’ve been working on the installation for her in the back, and I’m both convinced I’m going to disappoint her and that I’ll knock her socks off.”

“Or her bra. Think you can knock that off?”

“If she were anybody else, I’d guarantee it. But Tess?” I made a resigned noise.77

He watched me for a second in that way he had about him, the quiet assessment that ran under his outward charm. It was a mask— that much I knew for a fact—armor to protect his soft spots. Everyone thought he was nothing but a girl-crazy flirt, just like me. But that was just how we liked it. Let them think we were empty.

There was comfort in being underestimated. We were constantly set to impress everyone.

About Staci

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

AuthorPics

Connect with Staci

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

New Release + Release Blitz: Coming Up Roses by Staci Hart

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Coming Up Roses, an all-new must read enemies to lovers romantic comedy from Staci Hart is available now!

CUR-ebook

Everyone hates parts of their job.

Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.

But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.

Except for Luke Bennet.

The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint.

When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him.

Almost.

He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

CUR_ReleaseDayGraphic.v3

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2ONcgqv

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/ComingUpRosesSH

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2F2RTOF

all-i-need-is-5-min

About Staci

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

AuthorPics

Connect with Staci

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

Cover Reveal: Coming Up Roses by Staci Hart

Coming Up Roses, an all-new enemies to lovers romantic comedy from Staci Hart is coming August 1st, and we have the beautiful cover!

CUR-ebook.jpg

Everyone hates parts of their job.

Maybe it’s the paperwork. Maybe it’s the day-to-day grind. Maybe it’s that client who never knows what they want, or the guy who always cooks fish in the microwave.

But not me. I love every corner of the Longbourne Flower Shop, every flower, every petal, every stem. I love the greenhouse, and I love Mrs. Bennet, my boss. I love creating, and I love being a florist. I don’t hate anything at all.

Except for Luke Bennet.

The Bennet brothers have come home to help their mom save the flower shop, and Luke is at the helm. His smile tells a tale of lust, loose and easy. He moves with the grace of a predator, feral and wild. A thing unbridled, without rules or constraint.

When he comes home to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him.

Almost.

He doesn’t remember that night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire. It branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.

Everyone hates part of their job, and I hate Luke Bennet.

Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

FACEBOOK-cover-reveal.jpg

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2F2RTOF

About Staci

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

AuthorPics.jpg

Connect with Staci

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

New Release + Blog Tour: Well Suited by Staci Hart

BT banner.jpg

Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is available now!

well-suited-illustrated-sm (1).jpg

Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.
Who: one night stand.
How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

WS - AN.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2Wub0I4
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WellSuitedSH

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JjTzbd

About the Author

AuthorPics.jpg

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en
Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/
Website: http://stacihartnovels.com
Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/
Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

New Release + Release Blitz: Well Suited by Staci Hart

RB banner.jpg

Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is available now!

well-suited-illustrated-sm (1).jpg

Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.
Who: one night stand.
How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

WS - AN.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2PDByns
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WellSuitedSH

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JjTzbd

About the Author

AuthorPics.jpg

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en
Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/
Website: http://stacihartnovels.com
Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/
Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

Cover Reveal: Well Suited by Staci Hart

fb-coverreveal-banner.jpg

Well Suited, the final standalone in the Red Lipstick Coalition Series from Staci Hart, is coming May 2nd and we have the beautiful cover for you!

well-suited-illustrated-sm.jpg

Chemistry is my love language.

I’ve always been able to separate feelings from chemosignals. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in love.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

I couldn’t even be surprised as I stared down at the little blue plus sign, because I knew exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.

Who: one night stand.

How: prophylactic malfunction.

The upside? I don’t have to go looking for a suitable mate.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing and dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having this baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

fb-coverreveal-sq.jpg

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JjTzbd

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

AuthorPics.jpg

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/

New Release + Blog Tour + Excerpt: Work In Progress by Staci Hart

WIP - BT banner.jpg

Her fake husband is a Work In Progress…

Work in Progress, an all-new romantic comedy from Staci Hart, is available now!

wip-cover-sm.jpg

I never thought my first kiss would be on my wedding day.

But here I stand, clutching a bouquet of pale pink roses behind the doors of a Las Vegas chapel, and at the end of the aisle is the absolute last man I imagined would be waiting for me.

Thomas Bane.

Bestselling author. Notorious bad boy. Savagely handsome, dark as sin, chiseled as stone. And somehow, my soon-to-be husband.

Marry him, and I’ll land my dream job. Save him, and I’ll walk away with everything I’ve ever wanted. All I have to do is remember it’s all for show. None of it is real, no matter how real it feels.

But first, I have to survive the kiss.

And with lips like his, my heart doesn’t stand a chance.

wip - an

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2S3C3er

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WorkinProgress

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2QvdaTV

Excerpt:

The hall bathroom door opened, consequently stopping the earth’s orbit and flinging me into space for lack of gravity.

Thomas Bane stepped out of the doorway in slow motion, propelled by a cloud of steam that licked at his glistening body like it wanted to taste him. His hair was black, wet, curling and dripping in rivulets down the planes and valleys of his expansive chest and abs and narrow hips. He had that thing, the trough of muscle bracketing his hips that caught sluicing water and carried it in an angle that would eventually reach that unknown terrain beneath his towel. I saw the ghost of that terrain, the long, cylindrical bulge that was substantial enough to clearly state its presence, even through the thick towel.

He smirked, dragging his hand through his wet hair. I salivated, watching droplets of water roll down his forearm and collect on the tip of his erotic elbow.

“You’re up,” he said.

I blinked, not knowing when I’d set my coffee down or how many minutes—hours? years?—had passed in the time I spent ogling his body.

He sauntered into the room like he wasn’t basically naked. I tried unsuccessfully not to stare at his knees, the place where his ropy thigh connected, the angular muscles of his calves, the curve of his ankle, the broad pad of his foot.

He was perfectly proportioned. Michelangelo would have carved him twenty feet tall, and women would have worshipped at his perfect feet.

Gus bounced when he saw Tommy, his toys forgotten. And when Gus took off running, Tommy stopped, eyes widening and hands splayed in front of him.

“Gus, no,” he commanded.

To no one’s surprise, Gus did not listen. He barked once, snagged the hem of Tommy’s towel, and whipped it off him in a single tug that exposed every inch of skin on Thomas Bane’s ridiculous body.

Thank God my coffee was already on the counter. I’d have gotten third-degree burns.

For a split second, Tommy was frozen there in all his natural glory, poised to run after his dog, his face drawn and eyes locked on the sweet, disobedient dog. He wasn’t paying any attention to me.

I, however, gave him my full and undivided consideration.

His thighs were a mass of muscle so hard and defined, the tops were planes that came to a notch at his knee and a point where it met his hip. My eyes caught that trough that had before disappeared and followed it where it pointed—straight to the thatch of dark hair and the member nestled there.

The very thick, very long, mostly limp member.

If I stared at it a second longer, I was going to faint—my vision was already dim, my pulse pumping so hard, I could feel it in my neck, at the back of which a cold sweat had broken.

But he shifted to run after Gus, who was galloping away, trailing the towel behind him.

“Dammit, Gus! Gimme that!”

Then it was the back of him I saw, his hair, the streaming water rolling down all the curves of his shoulders, his back, the valley of his spine, and down to the most perfect ass I’d ever seen in real life.

Well, the only ass I’d ever seen in real life that wasn’t my own, and even that I couldn’t get a good look at without a mirror.

Seriously, that ass. That perfectly sculpted ass, round and tight and curved in the sides, shifting from one side to the other as he ran after the damn dog. My gaze caught a tattoo on one ass cheek, and I squinted at it, trying to make it out.

Tommy bent to snag the end of the towel—I caught sight of his sack and almost dissolved through the floor in an acidic puddle of embarrassment—but when he pulled, Gus spun around, ass in the air and tail wagging as he growled, pulling back.

A string of obscenities left Tommy’s mouth, but I was still gaping and staring at his ass. I realized that I was laughing. It sounded like someone else in a different room.

I wondered absently if this was how it felt to have a stroke.

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life — a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey.

From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

StaciHart.jpg

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/?hl=en

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/

Join Her Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/