By Vi Keeland
RELEASING JULY 17TH
The first time I met Caine West was in a bar.
He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out.
When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight—telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass.
You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend--smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married.
He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.
Especially when that lazy smile graced his perfect face in response to my rant.
Only it turned out, the man I'd just told off wasn't the right guy.
Oops. My mistake.
Embarrassed, I slunk out without an apology.
I was never going to see the handsome stranger again anyway, right?
That’s what I thought…until I walked into class the next morning.
Well, hello Professor West, I’m your new teaching assistant.
I’ll be working under you…figuratively speaking.
Although the literal interpretation might not be such a bad thing—working under Professor West.
This was going to be interesting…
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times Bestselling author. With more than 1.5 million books sold, her titles have appeared in over eighty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in sixteen languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
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An excerpt from Beautiful Mistake…
The class was completely empty. I wasn’t even sure he knew I was still in my seat. If he did, he was good at ignoring me as he packed up his laptop.
“Contrary to the rumors you’ve probably heard, I don’t bite.”
I jumped when he spoke. Now that the lecture hall was no longer filled with students, the acoustics of the large space bounced his deep voice all over the walls.
I stood and began my walk of shame down to the front of the classroom. There was no doubt I owed the man an apology, even if he wasn’t a professor—a professor who would be my new boss for at least the next fifteen weeks. I wanted to kick myself in the ass for not apologizing last night before I left the bar. Now it would seem like I was only doing it because of the situation I was in.
Which was true, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t want it to seem that way.
I took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry about last night.”
His face was unreadable. “I figured you might be, right about now.”
“I obviously thought you were someone else.”
“So I assumed. You thought I was the asshole. The one with the big dick, was it?”
I shut my eyes. For the last ninety minutes, I’d replayed the entire exchange from last night over and over in my head. I thought I’d remembered everything I said, but apparently I hadn’t. When I reopened my eyes, Professor West was still watching me. His stare was pretty damn intense.
I started to babble. “My friend Ava went out with this guy Owen for a month or so. He was full of shit from day one, but she didn’t see it. Actually walked up to her when she was leaving work one night and said, ‘Do you mind if I walk you home? My mother always told me to follow my dreams.’ She fell for it, the entire act, from the first day. Then one Saturday, he was supposedly out of town on business, and she was across town running errands for her mother. She took a shortcut through Madison Square Park on her way back from the grocery store and ran into him. He was with his wife and kids.”
“And you thought I was him, apparently?”
I nodded. “She came in during my shift and started drinking Long Island iced teas. When Owen walked in, she pointed to where he was standing and said he was the one in the blue shirt.”
“And we were both wearing blue shirts, I take it?”
I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Ava last night. “Actually, no. Ava’s not much of a drinker. Turned out she was more sloshed than I thought. Owen’s shirt was brown—not even black that could be mistaken as navy or something.”
I saw Professor West’s lip twitch.
“Anyway, I’m really sorry. I barely gave you a chance to speak, and then when I realized what had happened, I was so mortified I didn’t even stop to apologize.”
“I accept your apology for last night. Even though you shouldn’t be approaching a man in the hallway to tell him off alone, your intentions were admirable.”
I should have shut up and been grateful he’d accepted my apology. Should have. “Why can’t I approach a man in the hallway?”
He leveled me with a stare. “Because you’re five foot nothing in a loud bar, and no one would have heard you if I’d dragged you into the men’s room and locked the door.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I can take care of myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations.”
“But you insinuated that I couldn’t by making that statement.”
He zipped his leather bag closed. “Ms. Martin, I just accepted your apology for calling me an asshole last night. Would you like me to retract that acceptance?”
God, I really was an idiot. Being around this man seemed to turn me into a psychopath. “No. I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk, and I’d like to start over, if that’s possible.”
He nodded. “Everything prior to this morning is forgotten.”
“But this morning is not. I won’t accept lateness. Don’t let it happen again.”
I swallowed. “It won’t.”
He lifted his worn, brown leather laptop bag over one shoulder. “Meet me here at five tomorrow. We’ll go over the syllabus and the classes you’ll teach, as well as my grading rubric.”
That was smack in the middle of my shift, but I’d figure something out. “Okay.”
“Are you done for the day?”
“I am. I actually have to get to work. I’m covering Ava’s shift because she isn’t feeling too well after last night. We both work at O’Leary’s.”
“You waitress there?”
“Waitress, bartend, occasionally tell off patrons.”
That earned me a full smile from Professor West. God, he should do that more often. No, forget that. He definitely shouldn’t.
“I’ll walk out with you.”
We walked through the halls together and out to the parking lot. When we arrived at my car, I stopped. “This is me. So…five o’clock tomorrow?”
Professor West looked at my beat-up old Subaru. “You’re parked in a spot reserved for the Provost. You got a parking ticket.” He squinted. “Actually, it looks like you have two parking tickets. Was your inspection expired or something?”
Crap. “Umm…no. I keep an extra ticket in the glove compartment and stick it on my windshield when I’m forced to park illegally.”
His brows shot up. “Inventive.”
“Obviously it doesn’t always work.”
“They need more parking. When you’re late, it’s impossible to find a spot.”
He studied me. “Lateness is a frequent occurrence for you, I take it?”
“Unfortunately, it is.”
“Then I should clarify something I said earlier.”
“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I won’t be late for your class.”
He took a step closer and leaned in. “I’m glad to hear that, Ms. Martin. But that’s not what needs clarification.”
I swallowed. God, he smells good.
“Earlier I told you I didn’t bite students.” He smiled, and I felt the wickedness from it shoot down to some interesting places. “I don’t. But I make no promises about not biting feisty TAs.”
A Life Less Beautiful by Elle Brooks
Cover Design by Elle Brooks
Release Date: June 8, 2017
SynopsisEllis Hughes has loved the girl next door since he was ten-years-old. She was his sun, moon, and every visible star in a clear night sky. She was also his biggest regret. When a terrible accident rips Ellis and Harlow apart, it shatters both their hearts beyond repair. More than a decade later, Ellis has paid his penance, but his regret still lingers, and the love he once harbored for his childhood sweetheart has never faded. What Ellis believes has been destroyed forever, slowly comes back to life, only for a cruel twist of fate to intervene. Knowing he cannot live his life without Harlow in it, he faces the ultimate test of selflessness. He must sacrifice his own heart to mend hers.
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ExcerptI lean over the edge of the balcony and peer down at the garden below. I’d take a moment to enjoy the cool Wilmington wind against my flushed face if I could breathe. For a solid minute my vision swims as I struggle to suck in enough air to keep from passing out. The sound of my pulse rushing in my ears begins to ebb as everything starts to calm and I thank my lucky stars. Soft strains of music slowly drift free and steal the silence I rushed up here to find, as the patio doors beneath me open. I can hear fractured snippets of people regaling fond stories of Mrs. Adkins. I move slowly backward into the shadows and watch as he steps out onto the deck, running his hands through his hair. I should take the opportunity to leave while he’s out here, but I can’t seem to make my legs work. I watch as he links his hands behind his neck and stares out at the sky. My heart rate begins to accelerate again when I remember idly how I used to love running my hands through his messy blonde locks. He looks exactly the same and yet somehow completely different. The natural, infectious energy that used to surround him has disappeared, but I guess prison will do that to you. The boy I last laid eyes on has long disappeared, but the man that’s taken his place bears all the resemblances to my first love. I wish I’d known he was going to be here—I could have avoided him. I’m not ready to see him, and as he stands looking out into the night, I can’t pull my eyes away. I’ve practiced every day for ten years what I would do in this situation. I’d ask him why he didn’t come clean. Why he lied. Why he shut me out and ruined what was left of my already broken heart. I was positive I’d be able to deliver it spurred on by anger alone. I was wrong. I assumed I’d be furious, but now that it’s actually happening I’m not. The floorboard creaks when I jerk as a cold shiver races to the base of my spine. I quickly step behind the curtain, worried he might have heard me jump, but when I peer out he hasn’t moved a muscle. My body temperature suddenly feels as though it’s dipped to ten below zero and I’m trembling, despite the mild night. He’s so still it doesn’t look like he’s breathing. I can’t see his face; I should at least thank the universe for that small mercy. I shiver violently again and fold my arms tightly under my chest, trying to get a hold of myself. The sight of him has knocked out the little air I’d managed to suck in clear from my lungs, and my body’s decided to betray me yet again. I shouldn’t be surprised; it’s nothing new. I’m trembling uncontrollably now, and I try to relax and take some deep breaths like I’m supposed to. I’ve seen people shake violently with anger before, but I know that’s not what this is. This isn’t rage or hatred—it’s an acute realization. I’ve missed him. I’ve missed the one person in this world I should hate.
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About the AuthorI'm a little neurotic; I function on a tiny amount of sleep, and a huge amount of caffeine. I love old movies, green skittles, and have a slightly strange, and irrational fear of stormy weather. When I'm not locked away scribbling down the crazy stories that occupy my mind, I can be found at home in East Yorkshire with my husband and two children. I'm unashamedly fickle and can be persuaded to do just about anything with the promise of a good book, new shoes, or a bottle of bubbles. Oh, and did I mention I also love to write?
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★★★ EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT ★★★
THE LAST GUY
By Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise
© Ilsa-Louise Books, 2017
~ Rebecca ~
He kicks the door shut and without even turning on the light, he tosses me on my back on the bed. I prop up on my elbows. My dress is up around my waist, my bra is wet from Cade’s mouth, and my nipples are pointing right at him.
“Damn,” he rasps, and I watch, mesmerized as he reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head, leaving his hair a sexy mess.
The light of the full moon blasting through my window covers him in a silvery glow. My stomach clenches when I see the lines of his muscles deepened by the shadowy light. My God, he’s gorgeous. He looks otherworldly.
“We really shouldn’t do this…” My voice is breathless.
He strides toward the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s focused, determined, and I watch long fingers unfasten his belt, the top of his jeans, his zipper.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Yes,” he murmurs as he cups my face. I sigh and lean into his palm, letting the sizzle between us electrify me. If I do this…if I go through with boning him…it’s going to be the best sex of my life, judging by the tiny raised hairs all over my body.
I scoot to the foot of the bed so I’m right in front of him and my head is level with his waist. Looking up, I slide my palms to his sides, pushing his jeans lower.
He’s standing in front of me in black boxer briefs. I slide my palms up and down against the hot planes of his pelvis, teasing him, tracing my fingers around the straining bulge of his erection. “We’re gonna regret this.”
A long shudder comes from him, and his eyes are heavy-lidded as he watches me. “I don’t think so, Stone. Not in a million fucking years.” He leans down and his lips capture mine, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth, exploring, owning me.
One Uptight Reporter.
One Ex-NFL Star.
Too Much Fireball.
The Last Guy is a new standalone romance from Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author Ilsa Madden-Mills & International Selling Author Tia Louise. Meet Cade Hill on June 12th!
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By: Ilsa Madden-Mills and Tia Louise
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: David Wills
Designer: Shanoff Formats
From Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and international bestselling author Tia Louise…
The first rule of office romance is don’t do it—especially if your dream is to hold the anchor spot on the nightly news and your boss is trying to get you fired.
But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things.
Sex in his office…
Sex in the on-set kitchen…
Sex in the supply closet…
She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge…ego.
He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with.
Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives.
It’s just a hook-up, she says.
When can we do it again? he says.
With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want.
About the Authors
Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and the “Queen of Hot Romance” Tia Louise are not a secret duo, but simply themselves.
Great friends, former English teachers, and southern gals in real life, they’ve teamed up to bring you laugh-out-loud naughty romances with strong leading ladies and sexy alpha males who know how to please their women—and who sometimes you just want to slap.
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