JANA STOOD ON the front stoop of her studio with a silk tie covering her eyes—the tie Hunter had used to bind her wrists the night before. She’d been surprised when he’d confessed that he’d changed into his suit, showered, shaved, and put on cologne to see her last night, after the celebratory dinner he had attended. And after they’d talked, they’d made love well into the morning. Clark was right; there was a world of difference between making love to a woman you adored and having sex.
Hunter stood behind Jana now, guiding her by the shoulders. When Jana had said she loved him, he felt like the luckiest guy on earth. He knew their relationship would probably always have its ups and downs. They were both stubborn, after all. He didn’t claim to have all the answers, but he had the only answer that mattered. He loved Jana, and he vowed to spend the rest of her life making her happy.
“Just promise me that if you don’t like what I’ve done, you’ll tell me.”
She laughed. “Has that ever been a problem for me? Just because you have me blindfolded doesn’t mean my mouth doesn’t work.”
“Christ, you do have a smart mouth.”
“You love my smart mouth.”
He moved in front of her and pulled her body against him. Her nipples instantly hardened against his chest. He couldn’t resist brushing his scruffy cheek to the sensitive skin just beneath her ear.
“Hunter…” Her needy voice sent a rush of heat straight to his groin.
He sank his teeth into her neck and wrapped his arm around her waist, catching her as her knees wobbled. “You look so tempting, blindfolded and wearing that slinky little miniskirt and tight frilly top. I can’t believe you’re mine. Tell me again.” He’d been teasing her all morning about finally admitting she wanted him.
She sighed dramatically. He could practically see her rolling her eyes. “Hunter Lacroux, I want you.”
He ran a hand along her waist, over her rib cage, and brushed the sides of her breasts. “Tell me like you mean it,” he teased.
“Why would I do that?”
He tore the blindfold off, and her eyes blazed with desire.
“Because you mean it.” He tugged her tighter against him.
“Maybe so, but this is so much more fun.” She raised her brows with a sexy giggle. “Now kiss me or fuck me, but stop this teasing nonsense.”
“Christ, you’re a pain in the ass. I’ll do everything to you, but first…” He pushed open the door of the studio, and Jana gasped as they stepped inside.
“Hunter! This is gorgeous!” She launched herself into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “How about we check out the cunnilingus kitchen?” A pretty blush rose on her cheeks.
He carried her through the hallway that led to the kitchen. “There’s a fee for entrance now.”
“Let me guess. Does it start with a six and end with a nine?”
“From your lips to my ears.”
She slanted her mouth over his as he pushed through the kitchen doors. They were met with cheers of “surprise” and “congratulations” from all their friends and family. Harper, Brock, and Colton were front and center, beside Clark, who was holding little Billy in one arm, his other draped around Nina. Blue and Lizzie were standing arm in arm beside Bella and the girls and all their babies and husbands. Everyone was smiling and laughing and moving in for hugs.
Jana looked at him with wonder and love in her eyes, and that alone nearly brought him to his knees. Jana was finally his. Really, truly his, one hundred percent his. “How did you arrange all this?”
“Don’t you get it yet, pretty girl? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
—Thanks for reading! Ready for more?—
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After months of long-distance communication, actress Parker Collins and artist Grayson Lacroux finally plan to reconnect in the seaside town of Wellfleet, Massachusetts. But Parker never shows, and weeks pass without a word, leaving Grayson to believe he’s misinterpreted their budding relationship.
Parker has been running on autopilot ever since she lost her friend, mentor, and the only family she’s ever known, Bert Stein. Armed with junk food, tequila, and her big, lovable dog, she’s prepared to hole up and mourn—and determined to mend a fence Bert had never been able to with his estranged and bitter brother. But Parker didn’t count on the sinfully hot artist she’s been fantasizing about for nearly a year walking in on her grief-induced drunken night.
When Grayson stumbles across Parker, he has no idea what to make of the gorgeous blonde who blew him off despite the heat sizzling between them. But that doesn’t stop him from feeling protective of the woman who’s consumed his thoughts for months, and when he learns of Parker’s plans to confront an angry old man, he refuses to leave her side. As Parker’s past unfolds, they’re led on an unexpected journey of discovery. Their connection deepens, and late-night fantasies become passionate realities, until good intentions spark painful secrets, threatening the love they’ve found.
Buy SEASIDE LOVERS
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CLAIMED BY LOVE (The Ryders)
DUKE RYDER BALANCED his cell phone against his shoulder, listening to his buddy and investment partner Pierce Braden talk about their newest potential investment property as he followed the rickety wooden dock onto the white sandy beach.
“The dock just might be the most stable thing on Elpitha Island,” Pierce said. “Try to soak in a little sand and sun while you’re there. That’s the best part of the island.”
Duke’s eyes were immediately drawn to the sprawling oak trees he’d read about, standing sentinel over the forested acreage beyond. Long, thick branches spread like languid arms draped in moss, reaching for…what? One glance told him that there wasn’t much to reach for, save for a building that looked more like a forgotten Mediterranean villa than the welcome center of the small Southern island. The stone and wood building had a deep porch that spanned the entire length of the left side with stone pillars. A wooden trellis laced with the most captivating flowering vines shaded the area. Although the structure itself was in need of repair, it was surrounded by perfectly manicured, ornate gardens, which contrasted sharply with overgrown and unkempt bushes littering the far edges of the property.
“The proximity to the mainland isn’t bad,” Duke said to Pierce. He set his suitcase on the sand and looked back at the Atlantic. “It only took an hour fifteen to get here.” Elpitha was the smallest of the vacation islands off of South Carolina, and more than half of the land had been owned by the Liakos family for centuries. It was just over eight square miles, and not many investors wanted such a small tract of land, or to deal with families that were as entrenched as the Liakos family was thought to be. Some families might sell out, but they would fight tooth and nail against change, which could cause discourse on an island this small. Duke and Pierce weren’t deterred. The restrictive size of the property would only increase the value, making it an exclusive vacation spot for the elite.
“With Hilton Head and the other islands so overrun,” Pierce said, “Elpitha is ripe for development. Although we’ll have to work around that name. Who wants to go to an island called Elpitha? It sounds more like a disease than an island.”
Duke squinted up at the blazing sun and loosened his tie. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.” He noticed a plantation-style home tucked behind the trees in the distance. “They weren’t kidding about the strange mix of Mediterranean and Southern feel of the place. This should be interesting.” Duke knew some of the island’s history, and though he still didn’t understand why Greeks would immigrate to the South and try to re-create their country’s feel, it didn’t much matter. If he and Pierce decided to purchase the land, they would bulldoze every structure and give the island a complete Southern overhaul, making it the most desirable resort area in the South.
“Chuck called earlier and said Liakos’s granddaughter Gabriella is an attorney,” Pierce explained. “He thinks they might bring her in on things. Apparently their family keeps things tight. So if you meet her, play nice.”
The hollow clank of a screen door hitting its frame drew Duke’s attention. A woman stood on the porch of the old building, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked out at the water. Her long dark hair hung halfway down her back. Duke was too far away to see her features, but there was no missing her curvaceous ass and full breasts, not to mention legs that seemed to go on forever beneath her short summery dress. Duke watched with interest as he listened to Pierce relay the most recent information from the attorneys and engineers.
The woman glanced at her watch, then settled her hand on her hip. A voice rang out from inside the building, and the pretty woman hurried back inside.
“I just found proof of life,” he said to Pierce as he stepped onto the sandy path. “I’ll call you once I’ve done some recon.”
His black leather shoes quickly lost their shine from the dusty road as he approached the building. Voices filtered out the open windows as he mounted the steps. He glanced through the screen door, spotting the brunette he’d just seen. She was facing away from him, speaking heatedly in Greek, hands flailing as her exasperated voice pitched higher.
A thick-waisted man with salt-and-pepper hair sat at a table near the counter, amusement shining in his dark eyes as the brunette ranted to an older woman, and then the man said something Duke couldn’t hear.
“Ugh! Baba!” The younger woman threw her hands up in the air and flew out the screen door, nearly smacking Duke in the face.
He stumbled backward, giving the angry woman a wide breadth as she paced the front porch. She mumbled something in Greek and then crossed her arms, raised her shoulders, and dropped them quickly with a loud harrumph. Duke couldn’t help but drink in the flush on her smooth, sun-kissed cheeks. Her nose was small and straight, and her almond-shaped, dark—and currently angry—eyes were shadowed by lashes so long they brushed her cheeks.
Having grown up with a younger sister, Duke bided his time in announcing his presence, not wanting to take the brunt of her reaction to whatever the man had said to upset her.
She inhaled a deep breath, her breasts rising and pressing against the sheer fabric, then falling as she exhaled loudly. Her shoulders lowered, and the tightness around her mouth softened. She turned a full-lipped, mind-numbing smile to Duke, as if she hadn’t just come out in a firestorm.
“My father believes that no matter what he says, I hear something else.” She tilted her head to the side in a thoughtful pose, and in the space of a second her eyes filled with rebellion, making her even sexier. “Hearing and agreeing are two different things.”
Duke wondered what her father had just said that got her panties in a bunch. Christ. Now he was thinking about her panties.
“I’m Gabriella Liakos. Welcome to Elpitha Island.”
The granddaughter? Playing nice would not be a problem with this feisty beauty. Duke shook her hand, holding it a beat longer than he probably should, still mesmerized by the whirlwind of energy radiating from her. “Duke Ryder. It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No one intrudes on Elpitha,” she said sweetly.
Duke shifted his eyes to the screen door, and she laughed softly. It was the rare type of laugh that floated like the wind and wasn’t easily forgotten.
“We’re Greek,” she said with a shrug, as if that explained it all.
He arched a brow.
“When you combine a Greek father and a Southern mother, who learned all the best Greek ways, that’s what you get. Food, yelling, guilt, more food. Sweet love. Crazy love. More food. That’s who we are.” She dragged her gorgeous eyes down his suit to his shoes and put one hand on her hip as she had earlier, tapping her lips with the other.
Duke wouldn’t mind getting his mouth on those succulent lips for some crazy love.
“You’re the investor, checking out our island so you can line your pockets, right?”
He couldn’t tell if the look in her eyes was teasing or serious, but her sharp tongue piqued his interest even more. Duke respected confidence, and even though it wasn’t the greeting he’d hoped for, he liked knowing that Gabriella wasn’t a pushover.
“Something like that,” he answered casually.
As a real estate investor, Duke knew his clients were vulnerable and, more often than not, taking a deal they didn’t really care for because, by the time he swooped in to save the day, they had gotten a strong dose of what failure tasted like. A hard pill to swallow. Which was why Duke didn’t flinch as Gabriella measured everything about him, from his appearance to his answers. While other investors were cold as sharks, Duke had never quite mastered making ice flow through his veins. But he always got the job done.
Her eyes flicked toward the water, where another boat was nearing the dock. Her smiled turned genuine at the sight of a handful of children waving from the boat. She waved both arms over her head and yelled something in Greek, then settled her hands on her hips as she watched the children file from the boat.
“It was nice to meet you, Gabriella,” Duke said, hoping he’d see her later. The island had a population of just over two hundred and fifty people, so he imagined it would be hard not to see the same people throughout his stay. “I’ll just step inside and see about my room and a tour.”
“Lucky you,” she said, turning a steady gaze back to him, “I’m your tour host.” She didn’t wait for him to reply as she opened the screen door and hollered something in Greek to the people inside. Over her shoulder, she said to Duke, “Give me a sec to get your keys and the cart, and I’ll show you around and drop you at your place.”
It took a moment for him to remember that they drove golf carts or used bicycles on the island and that cars were prohibited.
She hurried inside and headed directly to her Baba, which Duke now knew meant he was her father, and said something that made the man laugh. She leaned in to kiss and hug her father, and her dress crept up, exposing the backs of her thighs and hugging her ass. He tried to ignore the stroke of awareness racing through him. She walked around the counter and grabbed a set of keys from a hook, then draped an arm around the shoulders of the woman with whom she was speaking earlier.
“Mama,” Gabriella said to the woman. Her mother’s hair was a shade lighter than hers. “Talk some sense into him, will you, please?” She whispered something, then kissed her, too.
The woman wiped her hands on an apron and smiled at Duke, catching him observing them. “Welcome to our island, Mr. Ryder. I’m Peggy Ann, and this is my husband, Niko.”
Her warm Southern drawl took Duke by surprise after hearing her speak fluent Greek, and he realized it shouldn’t have. They were in the South, after all.
He stepped inside. “It’s a pleasure to be here, and to meet you both.”
Gabriella’s father nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ryder.”
“I’ll meet you out front,” Gabriella said as she grabbed a large basket from the counter, then disappeared through a door in the back of the room.
As he stepped onto the porch, Duke had a feeling Pierce was wrong about the sand and sun being the best part of the island. Those things had nothing on the intriguing woman who’d just slipped out the back door.
—
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TOUCHED BY LOVE (The Remingtons)
BLAIN’S MOUTH BLAZED a path up her inner thigh. His hot breath teased over her wet flesh. Kenya fisted her hands in the sheets, dug her heels into the mattress, and rocked her hips, aching for his talented tongue in the place she needed him most. Blaine lifted smoldering dark eyes, a hint of wickedness shining through, as his tongue slicked over his lips. He was a master at seduction, but Kenya didn’t give a shit about seduction. She wanted to be fucked hard. Now. She needed his—
A large hand landed on Janie Jansen’s desk beside her braille device. She nearly jumped out of her skin and nervously yanked out her earbuds. Holy shit. She was supposed to be finishing a technical editing assignment, not listening to the latest hot romance audiobook.
“Nice article in the newsletter this week, Jansen. The Oxford Comma Revolution. Catchy.” Her boss, Clay Bishop, was slightly less arid than a desert, but Janie didn’t mind. He’d hired her to work at Tech Ed Co, or TEC, on a trial basis, and four years later, her respect for him had only grown. He was a fair and equitable boss, and was currently considering her for a promotion.
It was difficult to spice up a weekly column geared toward grammar and editing, but Janie tried. It was just one more step toward the promotion of technical writer she’d been vying for, a nice step up from editor.
“You’re here late. Trouble with the ARKENS handbook?”
“I’m just catching up on a few things. The handbook is almost done.” Well, technically not almost done, but she’d meet the deadline. She had yet to miss one. She loved editing, but she hadn’t set out to be an editor after college. She’d wanted to be a journalist, but that door had closed and she’d tabled her dream and settled for editing. Usually the intensity of her job didn’t get to her, but after weeks of grueling revisions on this particular medical equipment handbook, she’d needed a short mental break. But Clay would never think to take a break. He was all business all the time, even hours after their workday officially ended.
“Perfect. Don’t forget, Monday afternoon we have the peer review of your writing sample. If that goes well, your promotion will be in the hands of the management team. I’m not worried—you’re always on top of your game.”
“Yeah, she is.” Boyd Hudson’s amused voice brought a smile to Janie’s lips.
Boyd consulted at TEC only a few days a month, and though Janie didn’t know him well, he was quippy and flirtatious, bringing a spark of amusement into her otherwise quiet days.
“Hudson,” Clay said dryly. “Okay, well, it’s late, so…”
“See you Monday, Clay.” Janie listened to his retreating footsteps and let out a relieved sigh.
“He almost caught you again, didn’t he?”
She heard the smirk in Boyd’s voice. “He didn’t catch me last time. I was on my lunch break last week. And besides, I was just studying the nuances of the romance genre.”
“If by study you mean getting swept away in the sexy fantasy life of some fictional, ridiculously unattainable hero, then yeah, I’d buy that.”
“Why do you trash the genre when you know it’s my favorite escape?” She began gathering her things to leave for the day.
“Because it’s fun. You’re too smart to be a cliché, Janie. You know that, right? Girl who’s blind whiles away hours of her youth reading romances because her parents are too controlling. Grows up wanting a fictional life that can never exist. Break free from it.” His voice rose with excitement. “Let it go. Romance isn’t real. It’s crap writing about fake people.”
She never should have revealed that tidbit about her parents in the break room last month. They’d been talking about their childhoods, and while others had fun stories of hanging out at the mall, or going on spur-of-the-moment outings with groups of friends, Janie had very few spur-of-the-moment anything to share. Her parents worried about every step she made, questioning her safety and whether this or that location would be difficult for her to navigate without them to hold her hand. They’d been a noose around her neck, and it had often been easier to escape into fictional worlds than to battle for the chance to go out.
“And your sci-fi adventures are more real than romance? Ha!” She hefted her bag over her shoulder. “I bet you’ve never even read a romance.”
“Don’t need to. It’s crap.”
“It’s not crap. I bet I could write a romance that you’d not only read, but love.” Janie turned off her computer and braille device.
“Not unless it’s got a heroine who likes sci-fi, is smarter than me, and is into kinky sex.”
“God, you’re a pig. Fine, sci-fi and kinky sex. It shouldn’t be hard to make her smarter than you.” She lifted her brows with the tease. “But if I write it, you not only have to read every single page of it, but you also have to go to the Romance Writer’s Festival with me in October and stay all day. Plus,” she added, getting excited about the bet, “you have to buy me every romance book I want for a month.”
He placed Janie’s cane in her hand. “A little greedy, aren’t you?”
“Hey, if I’m writing a whole novel, it’s got to be worth it.”
“Fine, but I’m not buying you romance books for a month.”
“Whatever. Torturing you with the festival for an entire day will be worth it. It’s Friday night. What are you doing here so late?” It was after nine o’clock, and a group of people from work had gone down to NightCaps, a local bar where they often hung out.
“Had a busy day before coming here,” Boyd answered.
“Are you going to NightCaps, or are you going to while away the hours with your nose in outer space?” Janie loved the constant vibration of laughter, hushed whispers, and the hum of sexual tension at NightCaps, but her best friend, Kiki Vernon, was out of town, and she didn’t like to go to bars without her. She’d planned on spending a quiet weekend at home, but she assumed Boyd would want to go.
“I’ve got a date, so I’m pretty sure my nose won’t be anywhere near space, but I’ll walk with you. I’m headed that way anyway. But first, shake on our bet.”
“Game on, dude,” she said as she shook his hand. “And you’re so gonna owe me, but I’m not going to NightCaps. I was going to read, but now I think I’ll start plotting my romance. Hm. What should I call it? Sci-fi Sexiness?” She couldn’t wait to tell Kiki about the bet. She loved the genre as much as Janie did, and she’d get a kick out of Janie actually trying to write a sexy story.
“That doesn’t even sound romantic,” Boyd said. “I’m going to win the bet, and when I do, you have to attend Comic Con with me. You’ll make a hot Catwoman.”
Janie laughed. “Yeah, that’s so not going to happen. I’m writing this book and you’re going to spend an entire day meeting romance authors and male cover models.”
Boyd hooked his arm in hers as she touched the tip of her cane to the ground.
“You know what that cane does to me,” he said in a seductively low voice.
“I know what it’s going to do to you if you don’t stop teasing me.”
As they left the office, the crisp night air rolled over Janie’s skin. The sounds of people walking by, cars moving along the road, and horns honking were familiar and comforting. The smell of exhaust tangled with what Janie had come to know as the dark scents of the city. Tension was thicker at night in New York City, as if everyone was shrouded with awareness. Janie felt that awareness prickling her skin.
“Want me to flag down a cab?” Boyd asked.
“No thanks. I hate riding in cabs here. The drivers petrify me. I like the subway better.” She’d ridden in cabs with Kiki when they’d first moved to the city after college, and the constant stopping and starting and traveling alone when someone else was in complete control of her end destination made her feel unsafe. Navigating the city alone presented enough of a challenge. She didn’t need to end up in some back alley with a cab-driving killer.
“The subway? To each their own, I guess.”
Janie’s phone rang as they made their way down the sidewalk.
She stopped to dig it out of her bag. “Sorry. We can keep walking as long as you can guide me. It’s a little distracting to use my cane and talk on the phone.”
Boyd placed a hand on her arm. “Sneaky way to get me to touch you.”
Janie shook her head and answered the phone, immediately greeted by Kiki’s excited voice.
“Hey, just wanted you to know that since you blew off coming home with me this weekend, I’m not going to tell you about the date I had last night.” Kiki had been her best friend since the third grade, when Kiki had put a boy in his place for teasing Janie about using a specially lighted magnifying device to read large-print books. Not that Janie needed protecting. Even back then she’d known some people were just too self-centered to care about other people’s lives. Not Kiki, though. As soon as she’d finished with the bully, she’d wanted to know everything about Janie’s eye condition: Cone-Rod Dystrophy, a degenerative eye disease. The disease had varying degrees of severity, from mild to complete loss of vision. So far Janie was lucky. She still had some light perception. If there were very bright lights, large planes of bright colors, or if the contrast was just right, and she looked out of her peripheral vision and got up super close, she could still sometimes make out shapes.
“Was it your headboard I heard banging the wall at three in the morning?” She loved teasing Kiki about her sexual proclivities.
“I wish. Anyway, when I come back, we’re having a girls’ night for sure,” Kiki said. “I need to touch up your roots, so we’ll do margaritas and hair dye. A great combination.” Ever since they were little, Kiki had insisted on helping Janie with all things girly, which included not only hair and makeup, but also clothing and manicures and anything else Kiki put into the girls must do category. Kiki was the only person who had ever not been afraid to jump into those personal aspects of Janie’s life, and Janie loved her even more for it because Kiki accepted and pushed and made sure that Janie missed out on nothing.
“Last time we did drinks and dye you blonded me out, which is why I have roots.”
“You’re a hot blonde,” Kiki said.
“You also said I was a hot brunette. I gotta run. Have fun.” She ended the call.
Boyd chuckled and said, “You’d be hot no matter what color your hair was. Careful stepping off the curb.”
Janie was used to his flirty comments and knew better than to take them seriously. He doled them out in the office like she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s, adding a touch of humor to their otherwise stoic workplace.
“Curb, careful,” he said as she stepped back onto the sidewalk.
She liked that he knew enough to warn her to the change in her footing. Not everyone did, which was why she continued to use her cane, especially if guided by someone she didn’t know very well. She knew they were nearing the subway and shifted her bag to her other shoulder, dropping her phone in the process.
“I’ve got it.” Boyd stopped to pick it up. “So, you’re really going to try to write that novel?”
“Darn right I am.” She resituated her cane and bag, and they continued walking.
“You sure you want to take the subway?” Boyd asked again. “I’ll even pay for a cab if you’re worried about the money.”
“It’s not the money. It’s the freakishly fast driving and then slamming on the brakes thing that New York cabbies do. I’m fine, really. Have fun on your date. I’ll see you the next time you’re at TEC.”
Janie made her way down the steps to the subway, mentally playing with ideas for her romance story. At twenty-seven, she had only a few sexual experiences to draw from, although they’d never fully lived up to the sexual exploits of the heroes and heroines in the novels she’d read. She also knew absolutely nothing about sci-fi, or for that matter, kinky sex, other than what she’d read about. She might not have experience, but she was a master at research.
The subway platform was eerily quiet. She tried to focus on the bet instead of the fact that every tap of her cane echoed in what she assumed was an empty station. She’d boarded trains alone plenty of times, but as much as other people feared strangers, in the subway, she relied on auditory cues from them. Tingles of anxiety prickled through her chest as the heels of her shoes echoed chillingly.
She tapped her way to the bumpy strip along the edge of the platform, which was designed to let people who were visually impaired know they were nearing the edge. Her bag slid down her arm. She twisted sideways, trying to catch it. Her toe caught on a bump, sending her sprawling forward. In the space of a breath, her cane dropped through the air, and suddenly she was falling. Fear gripped her seconds before she landed on her right side with a painful thud. She sucked in air as pain spiraled through her. Something sharp dug into her cheek. Rocks? The pungent smell of grease and gasoline permeated the cold, dank air, and she realized she’d fallen off the platform.
Her heart thundered in her chest, battling with the blood rushing through her ears as she frantically searched for her cane, listening for a train. Tears streamed from her eyes as fear consumed her. Get up. Get away from the tracks. Move. Move. Move. Finding her cane, she clutched it to her aching chest and pushed up to her knees. A blood-curdling pain shot through her ankle. Fighting light-headedness, she clenched her teeth together and forced herself upright, bending her right knee to keep from putting pressure on her ankle. She gripped the cold, hard edge of the platform and tried to pull herself up.
“Help!” Her voice echoed in the empty station, magnifying her fear.
Her ankle rolled on the rocks, sending her tumbling down to the ground again. Get up. Get up. Pushing past the pain, she rose again, determined to get to safety. Her fingers moved over the platform’s bumpy ridges that had tripped her up. Her fingertips grazed the smoother concrete just beyond. She used her left, uninjured foot for leverage as she pulled, pushed, and climbed her way onto the platform. Vibrations rumbled beneath her, and the sound of the train squealed in the distance. On the platform, she rolled onto her back, gasping for air and clutching her cane to her chest. The concrete vibrated as the train approached. Sobs wrenched from her lungs, and miraculously, she felt herself smile, because goddamn it, she wasn’t going to get run over by the stupid train.
—
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Seaside Summers are just one of the series in the Love in Bloom big family romance collection. Characters from each series make appearances in future Love in Bloom series books so you never miss an engagement, wedding, or birth!
- Love in Bloom Subseries Order
Snow Sisters – Get Book 1 FREE
The Bradens – Get Book 1 FREE
The Remingtons – Get Book 1 FREE
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Love in Bloom books may be read as stand alones. For more enjoyment, read them in series order. Characters from each series carry forward to the next.
SNOW SISTERS
Sisters in Love
Sisters in Bloom
Sisters in White
THE BRADENS (Weston, CO)
Lovers at Heart
Destined for Love
Friendship on Fire
Sea of Love
Bursting with Love
Hearts at Play
THE BRADENS (Trusty, CO)
Taken by Love
Fated for Love
Romancing My Love
Flirting with Love
Dreaming of Love
Crashing into Love
THE BRADENS (Peaceful Harbor, MD)
Healed by Love
Surrender My Love
River of Love
Crushing on Love
Whisper of Love
Thrill of Love
BRADEN WORLD NOVELLAS
Daring Her Love (1001 Dark Nights)
THE REMINGTONS
Game of Love
Stroke of Love
Flames of Love
Slope of Love
Read, Write, Love
Touched by Love
SEASIDE SUMMERS
Seaside Dreams
Seaside Hearts
Seaside Sunsets
Seaside Secrets
Seaside Embrace
Seaside Lovers
Seaside Whispers
THE RYDERS
Seized by Love
Chased by Love
Claimed by Love
Swept Into Love
Rescued by Love
WILD BOYS AFTER DARK
Logan
Heath
Jackson
Cooper
BAD BOYS AFTER DARK
Dylan
Mick
Carson
Brett
HARBORSIDE NIGHTS
Includes characters from
Love in Bloom series
Catching Cassidy
Discovering Delilah
Tempting Tristan
Chasing Charley
Breaking Brandon
Reaching Rusty
Loving Livi
More Books by Melissa
Chasing Amanda (mystery/suspense)
Come Back to Me (mystery/suspense)
Have No Shame (historical fiction/romance)
Love, Lies & Mystery (3-book bundle)
Megan’s Way (literary fiction)
Traces of Kara (psychological thriller)
Where Petals Fall (suspense)
STRAWBERRY SPICE JAM RECIPE
1 cup water
3 habanero peppers
1 1.75-oz package powdered pectin
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 750-ml bottle of strawberry wine
5 1/2 cups sugar
Add 1 cup of water to a large saucepan and bring to a boil. Cut the tops of the habanero peppers, leaving them whole, and add them to the boiling water. Stir in the powdered pectin and lemon juice and bring to a boil. Add the wine and return to a boil. Slowly add the sugar one cup at a time while stirring (stainless-steel spoon works best). Bring to a boil for one minute. If you lift your spoon up and let the liquid drip, you should see it thicken as it drips. Remove the habaneros, along with any seeds, from the jelly. Remove any foam from the surface and add to the jars.
This recipe makes seven to eight 8-ounce jars of jelly.
Available at http://www.AlsBackwoodsBerrie.com, Amazon, and other retailers
One of my greatest joys is writing about Cape Cod, and when I told my street team that the Seaside Summers series might end after Matt Lacroux’s book, I had to run into a closet and hide from the backlash. So, my dear readers, I have decided to continue the series! There’s nothing more exciting for me than hearing from my fans and knowing you love my stories as much as I enjoy writing them. Please keep your emails and your posts on social media coming. If you haven’t joined my street team, please do! We have loads of fun, chat about books, and members get special sneak peeks of upcoming publications.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/MelissaFosterFans
A special thank-you goes to Nina Lane, Elise Sax, and Kathie Shoop for our brainstorming sessions.
My work shines because my editorial team is incredibly talented. Thank you, Kristen, Penina, Jenna, Juliette, Marlene, and Lynn, for all you do for me and for our readers.
And to Les, my own hunky hero and the best research partner around. Here’s to forever, baby.
www.MelissaFoster.com/Newsletter
http://www.MelissaFoster.com/Reader-Goodies
Having sold more than a million books, Melissa Foster is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café, and when she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success. Melissa has painted and donated several murals to the Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC.
Visit Melissa on her website or chat with her on social media. Melissa enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups and welcomes an invitation to your event.
Melissa’s books are available through most online retailers in paperback and digital formats.