Related to: 'Love to Hate You'

January Book of the Month

Wanted. You Loved Damien Stark. Now Meet Evan Black.

I know exactly when my life shifted. That precise instant when his eyes met mine and I no longer saw the bland look of familiarity, but danger and fire, lust and hunger. Perhaps I should have turned away. Perhaps I should have run. I didn't. I wanted him. More, I needed him. The man, and the fire that he ignited inside of me. And in his eyes, I saw that he needed me, too. That was the moment that everything changed. Me, most of all. But whether it changed for good or for ill . . . well, that remains to be seen. Even dead, my Uncle Jahn knew how to throw one hell of a party. His Chicago lakeside penthouse was bursting at the seams with an eclectic collection of mourners, most of whom had imbibed so much wine from the famous Howard Jahn cellar that whatever melancholy they’d brought with them had been sweetly erased, and now this wake or reception or whatever the hell you wanted to call it wasn’t the least bit somber. Politicians mingled with financiers mingled with artists and academics, and everyone was smiling and laughing and toasting the deceased. At his request, there’d been no formal funeral. Just this gathering of friends and family, food and drink, music and mirth. Jahn - he hated the name Howard - had lived a vibrant life, and that was never more obvious than now in his death. I missed him so damn much, but I hadn’t cried. Hadn’t screamed and ranted. Hadn’t done anything, really, except move through the days and nights lost in a haze of emotions, my mind numb. My body anesthetized. I sighed and fingered the charm on my silver bracelet. He’d presented me with the tiny motorcycle just over a month ago, and the gift had made me smile. I hadn’t talked about wanting to ride a motorcycle since before I turned sixteen. And it had been years since I’d ridden behind a boy, my arms tight around his waist and my hair blowing in the wind. But Uncle Jahn knew me better than anyone. He saw past the princess to the girl hidden inside. A girl who’d built up walls out of necessity, but still desperately wanted to break free. Who longed to slip on a pair of well-worn jeans, grab a battered leather jacket, and go a little wild. Sometimes, she even did. And sometimes it didn’t end right at all. I tightened my grip on the charm as the memory of Jahn holding my hand - of him promising to keep my secrets - swept over me, finally bringing tears to my eyes. He should be beside me, dammit, and the swell of laughter and conversation that filled the room was making me a little sick. Despite the fact that I knew Jahn wanted it that way, it was all I could do not to smack all the people who’d hugged me and murmured softly that he was in a better place and wasn’t it wonderful that he’d lived such a full life. That was such bullshit - he hadn’t even turned sixty yet. Vibrant men in their fifties shouldn’t drop dead from aneurysms, and there weren’t enough pithy Hallmark quotes in the universe to make me think otherwise. Antsy, I shifted my weight from foot to foot. There was a bar set up on the other side of the room, and I’d positioned myself as far away as physically possible because right then I wanted the burn of tequila. Wanted to let go, to explode through the numbness that clung to me like a cocoon. To run. To feel. But that wasn’t going to happen. No alcohol was passing these lips tonight. I was Jahn’s niece, after all, and that made me some kind of hostess-by-default, which meant I was stuck in the penthouse. Four thousand square feet, but I swear I could feel the art-covered walls pressing in around me. I wanted to race up the spiral staircase to the rooftop patio, then leap over the balcony into the darkening sky. I wanted to take flight over Lake Michigan and the whole world. I wanted to break things and scream and rant and curse this damned universe that took away a good man. Shit. I sucked in a breath and looked down at the exquisite ancient-looking notebook inside the glass and chrome display case I’d been leaning against. The leather-bound book was an exceptionally well-done copy of a recently discovered Da Vinci notebook. Dubbed the Creature Notebook, it had sixteen pages of animal studies and was open to the center, revealing a stunning sketch the young master had drawn - his study for the famous, but never located, dragon shield. Jahn had attempted to acquire the notebook, and I remember just how angry he’d been when he’d lost out to Victor Neely, another Chicago businessman with a private collection that rivaled my uncle’s. At the time, I’d just started at Northwestern with a major in poli sci and a minor in art history. I’m not particularly talented, but I’ve sketched my whole life, and I’ve been fascinated with art - and in particular with Leonardo da Vinci - since my parents took me to my first museum at the age of three. I thought the Creature Notebook was beyond cool, and I’d been irritated on Jahn’s behalf when he not only lost out on it, but when the press had poured salt in the wound by prattling on about Neely’s amazing new acquisition. About a year later, Jahn showed me the facsimile, bright and shiny in the custom-made display case. As a general rule, my uncle never owned a copy. If he couldn’t have the original - be it a Rembrandt or a Rauschenberg or a Da Vinci - he simply moved on. When I’d asked why he’d made an exception for the Creature Notebook, he shrugged and told me that the images were at least as interesting as the provenance. “Besides, anyone who can successfully copy a Da Vinci has created a masterpiece himself.” Despite the fact that it wasn’t authentic, the notebook was my favorite of Jahn’s many manuscripts and artifacts, and now, standing with my hands pressed to the glass, I felt as if he was, in some small way, beside me. I drew in a breath, knowing I had to get my act together, if for no other reason than the more wrecked I looked, the more guests would try to cheer me. Not that I looked particularly wrecked. When you grow up as Angelina Hayden Raine, with a United States senator for a father and a mother who served on the board of over a dozen international nonprofit organizations, you learn the difference between a public and a private face very early on. Especially when you have your own secrets to keep. “This is so goddamn fucked up it makes me want to scream.” I felt a whisper of a smile touch my lips and turned around to find myself looking into Kat’s bloodshot eyes. “Oh, hell, Angie,” she said. “He shouldn’t be dead.” “He’d be pissed if he knew you’d been crying,” I said, blinking away the last of my own tears. “Fuck that.” I almost laughed. Katrina Laron had a talent for cutting straight through the bullshit. I’m not sure which one of us leaned in first, but we caught each other in a bone-crushing hug. With a sniffle, I finally pulled away. Perverse, maybe, but just knowing that someone else was acknowledging the utter horror of the situation made me feel infinitesimally better. “Every time I turn a corner, I feel like I’m going to see him,” I said. “I almost wish I’d stayed in my old place.” I’d moved in four months ago when Uncle Jahn’s aneurysm was discovered. I’d taken time off from work - easy when you work for your uncle. For two weeks I’d played nurse after he came home from the hospital, and when he’d been given the allclear by the doctors - yeah, like that was a good call - I’d accepted his invitation to move in permanently. Why not? The tiny apartment I’d shared with my lifelong friend Flynn wasn’t exactly the lap of luxury. And although I loved Flynn, he wasn’t the easiest person to cohabitate with. He knew me too well, and it always made me uneasy when people saw what I wanted to keep hidden. Now, though, I craved both the cocoon-like comfort of my tiny room and Flynn’s steady presence. As much as I loved the condo, without my uncle, it was cold and hollow, and just being in it made me feel brittle. As if at any moment I would shatter into a million pieces. Kat’s eyes were warm and understanding. “I know. But he loved having you here. God knows why,” she added with a quirky grin. “You’re nothing but trouble.” I rolled my eyes. At twenty-seven, Katrina Laron was only four years older than me, but that didn’t stop her from pulling the older-and-wiser card whenever she got the chance. The fact that we’d become friends under decidedly dodgy circumstances probably played a role, too. She’d been working at one of the coffee shops in Evanston where I used to mainline caffeine during my first year at Northwestern. We’d chatted a couple of times in an “extra cream please, it’s been a bitch of a day” kind of way, but we were hardly on a first-name basis. All that changed when we bumped into each other on a day when extra cream wasn’t going to cut it for me - not by a long shot. It was in the Michigan Avenue Neiman Marcus and I’d been surfing on adrenaline, using it to soothe the rough edges of a particularly crappy day. Specifically, I’d just succumbed to my personal demons and surreptitiously dropped a pair of fifteen-dollar clearance earrings into my purse. But, apparently, not as surreptitiously as I’d thought. “Well, aren’t you the stumbling amateur?” she’d whispered, as she steered me toward women’s shoes. “With a shit technique like that, it’s a wonder you haven’t been arrested yet.” “Arrested!” I squeaked, as if that word would carry all the way to Washington and to my father’s all-hearing ears. The fear of getting caught might be part of the excitement. Actually getting caught wasn’t a good thing at all. “No, I didn’t- I mean-” She cut off my protests with a casual flip of her hand. “All I’m saying is be smart. If you’re going to take a risk, at least make it worth the trouble. Those earrings? Really not the bomb.” “It’s not about the earrings,” I’d snapped, then immediately cringed. The words had been a knee-jerk response, but they were also true. It wasn’t about the earrings. It was about my dad, and the grad school lectures and the career-planning talks, and the never-spoken certainty that no matter what I did, my sister would have done it better. It was about the oppressive, overwhelming weight of my life and my future that was bearing down on me, harder and harder until I was certain that if I didn’t do something to break out a little I’d spontaneously combust. Kat had glanced at my purse as if she could see through the soft Coach leather to the contraband inside. Then she slowly lifted her eyes back to my face. The silence hung between us for a full minute. Then she nodded. “Don’t worry. I get it.” She cocked her head toward the exit. “Come on.” Relief flooded through me, and my limbs that had frozen in both fear and mortification began to thaw. She steered me to her car, a cherry-red Mustang that she drove at more or less the speed of light. She careened down Michigan Avenue, maneuvered her way onto Lake Shore Drive, and came so close to the other cars as she zipped in and out of traffic that I’m surprised her convertible didn’t lose a layer of paint. In other words, it was freaking awesome. The top was down, the wind was whipping my hair into my face and mouth, and all I could do was tilt my head back and laugh. Kat risked our lives long enough to shoot me one sideways glance. “Yeah,” she said. “We’re going to get along just fine.” From that moment on, I’d adored Kat. Now, with Jahn’s death sending my universe reeling, I realized that I not only loved her - I relied on her. “I’m really glad you’re here,” I said. “Where else would I be?” She scanned the room. “Are your mom and dad around somewhere?” “They can’t make it. They’re stuck overseas.” The familiar numbness settled over me again as I remembered my mother’s hysterical sobs and the deep well of sorrow that had filled my father’s voice when he’d learned about his half-brother. “I hated calling them,” I whispered. “It felt like Gracie all over again.” “I’m so sorry.” Kat had never met my sister, but she’d heard the story. The public version, anyway, and I knew her sympathy was real. I managed a wavering smile. “I know. That means a lot to me.” “The whole thing sucks,” Kat said. “It’s so unfair. Your uncle was too damn cool to die.” “I guess the universe doesn’t give a shit about coolness.” “The universe can be a raving bitch sometimes,” Kat said. She exhaled loudly. “Want me to crash here tonight so you won’t be alone? We could stay up late getting so wasted that there’s no way in hell either one of us will dream.” “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.” She eyed me uncertainly. She was one of the few people I’d confided in about my nightmares, and while I appreciated the sympathy, sometimes I wished I’d kept my mouth shut. “Really,” I said earnestly. “Kevin’s here.” “Oh, yeah? And how’s that going? Engaged yet?” “Not quite,” I said wryly. I supposed we were dating since I’d slept with him twice, but so far I’d dodged the let’s-be-exclusive conversation. I wasn’t sure why I was so reticent. The sex wasn’t mind-blowing, but it did the job. And I did genuinely like the guy. But I’d spent the last few months holding him at arm’s length, telling him I needed to keep my attention on Jahn’s surgery, then his recovery. Obviously, I hadn’t planned on his sudden death. How horrible was it of me to think that now Jahn was gone, I had no more excuses to hand Kevin? Beside me, Kat craned her neck and scoped out the crowd. “So where is he?” “He had to go take a call. Technically, he’s working today.” “What are you going to do now?” Kat asked. “About Kevin?” Honestly, I was hoping to avoid doing anything on that front for the foreseeable future. “About your job,” she countered. “About the roof over your head. About your life. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” “Oh.” My shoulders sagged. “No. Not really.” My job in the PR department of Jahn’s company might pay my bills, but it was hardly my life’s ambition, and Kat was one of the few people to whom I’d confessed that deep, dark secret. Right then, however, that wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have. Fortunately, something across the room had caught Kat’s attention, effectively erasing my lack of direction and purpose from her mind. She stood slightly straighter and the corners of her mouth tilted a bit, almost hinting at a smile. Curious, I turned to look in that direction, but saw nothing but suits and dresses and a sea of black. “What is it? Kevin?” I asked, praying he wasn’t heading our direction. “Cole August,” she said. “At least I thought I saw him.” “Oh.” I licked my lips. My mouth had gone suddenly dry. “Is Evan with him?” I forced my voice to sound casual, but my pulse was racing. If Cole was around, it was always a good bet that Evan was, too. Then I remembered what day it was and my pulse slowed as disappointment weighed down on me. “Isn’t tonight the ribbon-cutting for the hospital wing Evan funded?” Kat didn’t even spare me a glance, her eyes still searching the crowd. “Not sure.” She shot me a quick look. “Yeah, it was. You invited me before, you know, all of this happened.” I blinked back the sudden prick of tears. “Evan’s going to hate missing this. Jahn was like a dad to him.” Beside me, Kat took a quick step backward, startling me. “What is it?” She dragged her gaze away from the crowd, then frowned at me. “I . . . Oh, shit. I have to go make a call. I’ll be right back, okay?” “Um, okay.” Who the hell did she need to call right now? That wasn’t a question I pondered for long, though, because I’d caught a glimpse of Cole. And right beside him - looking like he owned the world and everything in it - was Evan. Immediately, my chest tightened and a current of electricity zinged across my skin. Technically, I saw him first, but it was my body’s reaction that caught my attention. Only after I felt him did I truly see him. And what a sight he was. Whereas Cole might be sex on wheels, Evan Black was the slow burn of sin and seduction - and tonight he was in rare form. He must have come straight from the hospital, because he was still in a tux, and although he was clearly overdressed, he appeared perfectly at ease. Whether in a tux or jeans, where Evan was concerned, it was the man that mattered, not the garment. He had the kind of chiseled good looks that would have gotten him plucked from obscurity in the Golden Age of Hollywood, and the kind of confidence and bearing that would have made him a box-office draw. A small scar intersected his left brow, giving the angel’s face a hint of the devil. He both came from money and had made his own fortune, and it showed in the way he held himself, the way he looked around a room, managing to take control of it with nothing more than a glance. His eyes were as gray as a wolf’s and his hair was the color of cherrywood, a deep brown that hinted at golds and reds when the light hit it just right. He wore it long in the back so that it brushed his collar, and the natural waves gave it the quality of a mane - which only enhanced the impression that there was a wildness clinging to the man. Wild or not, I wanted to get close. I wanted to thrust my fingers into his hair and feel the locks on my skin. I imagined his hair was soft, but that’s the only part of him that was. Everything else was edged with steel, the hard planes of his face and body hinting at a dangerous core beneath that beauty. I didn’t know whether the danger was real or an illusion. And right then, I didn’t care. I wanted the touch, the thrill. That desperate need to fly I’d been feeling all night? So help me, I wanted to fly right into Evan’s arms. I needed the rush. I craved the thrill. I wanted the man. And it was just too damn bad that he didn’t want me, too.

Headline Eternal

Love You, Love You Not

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson

'Like a great big hug from your best friend... If you want a book to make you feel better, to make you laugh and smile, go read this' NetGalley reviewer The glorious new standalone office rom-com from the author of the ebook bestseller Love to Hate You. Perfect for fans of Sophie Ranald, Sophie Kinsella and Paige Toon.There's a fine line between love and hate...Poppy Peterson is about to be evicted if she doesn't pay her rent. She used to be an actress on a telenovela until her character, Ramona Gonzalez, Executive Administrative Assistant to the CEO, was killed off. Unfortunately, dead characters can't pay the bills.Ryan Stark is a tough boss - especially if you're his assistant. He's been through five in the last two months and now no one wants to work for him. He needs an assistant who can meet his demands. And he can be very demanding.Poppy's been an assistant before - well, on screen anyway. It can't be that hard to do in real life, right?Two things are for sure. Poppy is about to play the role of a lifetime. And Ryan is about to learn a whole new lesson about what's really important in life.For more laugh-out-loud, swoon-worthy hijinks, don't miss Jo's other rom-coms, Love to Hate You, Burning Moon, Almost A Bride, Finding You, After the Rain and The Great Ex-scape.Love funny, romantic stories? You don't want to miss Jo Watson:'The perfect choice for fans of romantic comedies' Gina's Bookshelf'It was amazing, it was hilarious' Rachel's Random Reads'A brilliant read from beginning to end' Hopeless Romantics

Headline Eternal

The Great Ex-Scape

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson

'If you want a book that is TRULY 'laugh out loud', start here' Goodreads reviewer The hilarious new rom-com from the author of the ebook bestseller Love to Hate You. Perfect for fans of Joanna Bolouri, Cate Woods and Sally Thorne.On the scale of one to worst idea ever, agreeing to give the toast at her best friend's engagement party when she's been in love with him for three years was not Val's finest decision. Nor was accidentally confessing her love to him in front of all their guests, including his fiancee. Boarding a plane that will take her literally anywhere to get away from the humiliation, Val is pleasantly surprised to find herself on the dazzlingly beautiful island of Reunion where she hopes she can heal her wounded pride, broken heart and bruised knees. When a painful face mask experiment leads her to a fellow broken-hearted traveller, Alex, they decide to give each other a helping hand and follow a foolproof ten-step plan to get over their respective exes. And so begins their crazy adventure. What could possibly go wrong?For more laugh-out-loud, swoon-worthy hijinks, don't miss Jo's other rom-coms, Love to Hate You, Burning Moon, Almost A Bride, Finding You and After the Rain.Love funny, romantic stories? You don't want to miss Jo Watson:'The perfect choice for fans of romantic comedies' Gina's Bookshelf'It was amazing, it was hilarious' Rachel's Random Reads'A brilliant read from beginning to end' Hopeless Romantics

Headline Eternal

All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy

Jessica Clare
Authors:
Jessica Clare

Christmas arrives early when a fateful encounter leads two strangers to unexpected love in this holiday romance from New York Times bestselling author Jessica Clare. Perfect for fans of Harper Sloan, Kelly Elliott, Diana Palmer, Jennifer Ryan and Maisey Yates.Christmas may be coming, but it's just another day at the ranch as far as Eli Pickett is concerned. Someone has to take care of the herd and that means no holiday vacation for him. But that's just the way he likes it - it's not like he has a woman to spend time with anyways. Most women don't want the ranch life, or the surly, silent cowboy that comes with it. Fine with him. He'd rather have the quiet of a roaring fire and the company of his dogs.Cassandra Horn is trying to make it to her parents' winter cabin in Wyoming before the blizzard hits. She desperately needs a vacation from the chaos of Manhattan...and her boss's boyfriend, who is making her life miserable. But Cass never makes it to the cabin. A raging snowstorm causes her car to crash, where she's found unconscious by Eli. When Cass wakes, she has no memories of who she is. Eli takes one look at Cass's big blue eyes and dark curls, and like a Christmas miracle, falls head over heels in love. But while the attraction is mutual, can she give her heart to this cowboy if she's not sure it's hers to give?Want more irresistible romance? Look for Jessica's Billionaire Boys Club titles, starting with Stranded With A Billionaire, as well as the sizzling spinoff series, Billionaires and Bridesmaids, starting with The Billionaire And The Virgin and the Roughneck Billionaires series starting with Dirty Money.

Headline Eternal

After the Rain

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson

'Jo Watson's writing puts you in a better mood. Brilliant' Goodreads reviewer The hilarious new rom-com from the author of the ebook bestseller Love to Hate You. Perfect for fans of Joanna Bolouri, Cate Woods and Sally Thorne.Some opposites attract; some rip each other's clothes off. Stormy-Rain and Marcus could not be more different: she's a free-spirited, rainbow-haired hippie; he wears a suit and over-shines his already too-shiny shoes. She believes in auras; he's governed by logic and doesn't believe in Fate. But Fate believes in them... So what happens when their worlds collide - and they are forced to embark on an epic road trip to catch a plane to a wedding on the other side of the world? The clock is ticking...and they're seriously ticking each other off. But Stormy and Marcus are about to discover just how thin the line between love and hate really is.'The perfect choice for fans of romantic comedies' Gina's Bookshelf 'A brilliant read' Hopeless RomanticsFor more laugh-out-loud, swoon-worthy hijinks, don't miss Jo's other rom-coms, Love to Hate You, Burning Moon, Almost A Bride and Finding You.Preorder Jo's new rom-com The Great Ex-Scape now! Just search: 9781472257758

Headline Eternal

Finding You

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson
Headline Eternal

Almost a Bride

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson
Headline Eternal

Burning Moon

Jo Watson
Authors:
Jo Watson

'I'm kicking myself for not reading this book sooner!' Goodreads reviewer From the author of the ebook bestseller, Love To Hate You. We promise this rom-com will make you laugh out loud! Again and again and again. Perfect for fans of Lucy Vine's Hot Mess, Coleen Coleman, Keris Stainton, Joanna Bolouri and Cate Woods.Chase your dreams. Dance under the stars. Fall in love at the festival of Burning Moon.WARNING: Being jilted at the altar in front of 500 wedding guests can lead to irrational behaviour, such as going on your honeymoon to Thailand alone.On the way to paradise, symptoms may include getting arrested, setting yourself on fire, turning up on a 'Missing Poster' and going viral.Side-effects may include desert island stranding, star gazing and jungle trekking.Recovery will lead to partying the night away at Burning Moon festival - and falling in love with the person you least expect...For more hilarious, romantic hijinks, look out for Jo's other unmissable rom-coms, Almost A Bride, Finding You and Love To Hate You!Preorder Jo's new rom-com After the Rain now! Just search: 9781472257734

Hannah Orenstein

Hannah Orenstein is the author of Playing with Matches and Love at First Like, as well as the senior dating editor at Elite Daily. Previously, she was a writer and editor at Seventeen.com. She lives in Brooklyn. For more information, visit her website: hannahorenstein.com or follow her on Twitter and Instagram: @hannahorens.

Jasmine Guillory

Jasmine Guillory is a graduate of Wellesley College and Stanford Law School. She is a Bay Area native who has towering stacks of books in her living room, a cake recipe for every occasion, and upwards of 50 lipsticks.Visit her website: www.jasmineguillory.com, find her on Facebook www.facebook.com/jasmineguillorywriter and follow her on Twitter @thebestjasmine and Instagram @jasminepics for more information.

Jay Crownover

Jay Crownover is the international and multiple New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men Series, the Saints of Denver Series, the Point Series, Breaking Point Series, and the Getaway Series. Her books have been translated in many different languages all around the world. She is a tattooed, crazy haired Colorado native who lives at the base of the Rockies with her awesome dogs. This is where she can frequently be found enjoying a cold beer and Taco Tuesdays. Jay is a self-declared music snob and outspoken book lover who is always looking for her next adventure, between the pages and on the road.Learn more:www.jaycrownover.comTwitter @JayCrownoverFacebook.com/AuthorJayCrownover

Jill Shalvis

New York Times bestseller Jill Shalvis is the author of many romance novels including her acclaimed Cedar Ridge, Lucky Harbor and Animal Magnetism series. The RITA winner and three-time National Readers Choice winner makes her home near Lake Tahoe. Visit her website at www.jillshalvis.com for a complete book list and daily blog, and www.facebook.com/jillshalvis for other news or follow her on Twitter @jillshalvis.

Jo Watson

Jo Watson is an award-winning writer whose romantic comedies were originally published on Wattpad. Her first novel Burning Moon won a 2014 Watty Award for being one of the site's most downloaded titles and has now had over 7 million reads. Jo is an Adidas addict and a Depeche Mode devotee. She lives in South Africa with her family.Visit her website www.jowatsonwrites.co.uk for exclusive extras and follow her on Twitter @JoWatsonWrites, Facebook at www.facebook.com/jowatsonwrites and Instagram @jowatsonwrites.

Johanna Lindsey

Johanna Lindsey is world renowned for her 'mastery of historical romance' (Entertainment Weekly), with more than sixty million copies of her novels sold. She is the author of fifty-one previous bestselling novels, many of which reached the number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list. Johanna lives in New Hampshire with her family.

Katie Reus

Katie Reus fell in love with romance at a young age thanks to books she'd pilfered from her mom's stash. After changing majors too many times to count, she finally graduated with a degree in psychology. She now spends her days writing dark paranormal romance. She currently lives near Biloxi, Mississippi, with her family. When she's not creating stories she can usually be found spending time with her family or one of the many eclectic animals they've adopted over the years.Find out more about Katie by visiting www.katiereus.com, connect with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/katiereusauthor and Twitter @katiereus.

Kelly Rimmer

Kelly Rimmer is the USA Today bestselling women's fiction author of six novels, including Before I Let You Go and Me Without You. She lives in rural Australia with her husband, two children and fantastically naughty dogs, Sully and Basil. Her novels have been translated into more than twenty languages.

Laura Griffin

Laura Griffin is the New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty books. She is a two-time RITA Award winner as well as the recipient of the Daphne du Maurier Award. Laura got her start in journalism before venturing into the world of romance fiction. She lives in Austin, Texas, where she is working on her next novel. Visit her website at www.lauragriffin.com and find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LauraGriffinAuthor and Twitter @Laura_GriffTo hear about new releases, sign up for Laura's newsletter at: http://lauragriffin.com/subscribe/

Lauren Layne

Lauren Layne is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than two dozen romantic comedies. Her books have sold over a million copies, in eight languages. Lauren's work has been featured in Publishers Weekly, Glamour, The Wall Street Journal, and Inside Edition. She is based in New York City. Join Lauren at www.laurenlayne.com to get news on her latest books, or keep up to date with her on Instagram: @laurenlayneauthor.

Maisey Yates

USA Today Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit.Visit her website at www.maiseyyates.com, follow her on Twitter @maiseyyates and find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Maisey-Yates-Romance-Author-291445138063/.

Sierra Kincade

Sierra Kincade lives in the Midwest with her husband and son. When she's not writing naughty books, she loves eating chocolate cupcakes, binge-watching cable TV series, and singing loudly in the car. She wholeheartedly believes that love stories are real, and you should never choose a partner who doesn't make you laugh.Find out more about Sierra at www.SierraKincade.com, and connect with her on Twitter @SierraKincade, and www.facebook.com/SierraKincade.author.

Tara Sue Me

Tara Sue Me lives in the southeastern United States with her family, two dogs, and a cat. Visit her website:www.tarasueme.com and follow her on Twitter @tarasueme and Facebookwww.facebook.com/TaraSueMeBooks for more information.