Release Blitz: Before We Fell by Stacey Lynn

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Before We Fell, an all-new contemporary romance from Stacey Lynn is available now!

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For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The horror that rocked my small town last winter also brought Noah Wilkes into my life. The first almost broke all of us, but the second changed everything.

He stomped into my classroom all angry scowls and rudeness, the big-shot lawyer who was always too good for this small town. But the moment his smile softened toward his niece, it was me that melted.

The heartbreak that brought him back also brought me closer to him, to the man he hides from the world behind his swagger and aggression. The man I couldn’t help but fall for.

But life has a way of throwing a curveball when you least expect it, and this one could cost me everything–even him.

Turned out, our fates were written in the sky before we ever met—

Before we fell.

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Download your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2HICJ2W
Amazon Universal: mybook.to/BeforeWeFell
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2FoCqYE
Nook:http://bit.ly/2FwSxoc
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2UahMok
Add to Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2FhBZAi

About the Author

Stacey Lynn Author Photo

When Stacey Lynn isn’t conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or behind closed doors, imagining the next adventures she’ll soon write.

She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.

Stacey Lynn lives with her husband and children in North Carolina.

If you would like to know more about Stacey Lynn, follow her here:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/staceylynnbooks
Twitter: @staceylynnbooks
Instagram: www.instagram.staceylynn.author
Website: http://www.staceylynnbooks.com
Stay up to date on Stacey’s latest news! Subscribe to her Newsletter today! http://www.staceylynnbooks.com/contact

 

Release Blitz: Crazy for Your Love by Lexi Ryan

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Crazy for Your Love, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Ryan is live!

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A family wedding with a fake boyfriend, meddling parents, and an obsessive ex . . . What could go wrong?

The only thing worse than being single at my sister’s wedding is finding out that my ex will be there too. Not just any ex—the guy everyone expected me to marry, the man I came to Jackson Harbor to escape.

Now I need a date, and fast. Enter Carter Jackson—the firefighter who’s dealing with an unwanted five minutes of fame ever since a shirtless photo of him saving a puppy went viral. He’s warding off propositions left and right, and he needs a fake relationship as much as I do.

Sweet and sexy, Carter is completely off-limits. See, I have a rule. A no heartache rule. Not only is Carter my friend and a known heartbreaker, but his job as a firefighter puts him in danger daily, and that’s something I just can’t handle.

The commitment between us might be pretend, but the passion all too real. As crazy as it makes me, I have to keep Carter at an arm’s length. Even that might not be enough to spare my heart.

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Download your copy today!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2EnM9Oj

Amazon Worldwide: mybook.to/CrazyForYourLove

Apple Books: http://bit.ly/CFYLove

Nook: http://bit.ly/CFYLNook

Kobo: http://bit.ly/CFYLKobo

Google Play: http://bit.ly/CFYLGPlay

Add to GoodRead: http://bit.ly/2Ywl0lm

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About Lexi:

Lexi Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of emotional romance that sizzles. A former academic and English professor, Lexi considers herself the luckiest girl around to make a living through storytelling. She loves spending time with her crazy kids, weightlifting, ice cream, swoony heroes, and vodka martinis.

Lexi lives in Indiana with her husband, two children, and a spoiled dog. You can find her at her website: http://www.lexiryan.com

Connect with Lexi:

Website: http://www.lexiryan.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lexiryanauthor
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/qymaH
Bookbub: http://www.bookbub.com/authors/lexi-ryanv
Instagram: http://instagram.com/writerlexiryanv
Twitter: https://twitter.com/writerlexiryan
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2856947.Lexi_Ryan
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2bIYjGa

 

Blog Tour: Nothing But Trouble by P. Dangelico

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Nothing But Trouble by P. Dangelico

Release Date: March 26th

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Nothing But Trouble, an all new standalone Contemporary Romance by

P. Dangelico

Reagan Reynolds…

Water polo god.

Owner of a face that belongs under Wikipedia’s definition of drop dead gorgeous.

Too charming for his own good.

But most importantly––the worst driver on the planet.

No, really, I’m pretty sure his blind nana taught him how to drive.

I had no idea who he was until he almost ran me over. And frankly, I kind of wish I still didn’t because then I wouldn’t have a sprained ankle to show for it. And my leg wouldn’t resemble a boa constrictor that’s swallowed a feral pig.

Yeah, it’s that bad.

I’ve spent years saving every penny I’ve ever earned to be able to transfer to Malibu University. And now my entire future––including my scholarship––is in jeopardy.

So I either accept the help he insists on giving me, or lose everything I’ve sacrificed for.

In the meantime, I’m going to ignore the fact that we’re becoming friends.

And I’m definitely going to pretend he’s not turning into the object of my…umm, dirty fantasies.

That’s not happening.

Not even a little.

Because the minute I clapped eyes on him I knew he was nothing but trouble.

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Download your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DRrqU7

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

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2GbI3v0

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2CY8yAU

Nook: http://bit.ly/2SsB1J1

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2H2Fqgx

Blog Tour Teaser-2.jpg

Excerpt:

Alice

     A strong gust of hot air invades the car and Reagan’s hair gets ruffled. It’s been like this the last few weeks. Crazy hot winds picking up now and then. Mine is literally standing on end. I’m forced to hold it down with both hands.

     “The Santa Anas,” he says as if reading my mind. I look over and find him smiling at me. “The hot wind.” He swirls his index finger.

     I let go of my hair, close my eyes, and let it have its way with me. It stands instantly upright, like I stuck my finger in a socket. I’m sure I look like an idiot but it makes me laugh, a burst of pure joy emanating from my chest that can’t be contained any more than the wind can.

     “Nice hair,” he mocks with a teasing smile.

     “Thanks, Flipper.”

     “I thought we established that it’s not a dolphin.”

     “You’re not going to like me saying this, but you’re more dolphin than shark,” I happily point out. He’s always perky and upbeat, likes to socialize, loves all the attention. He’s a dolphin––whether he likes it or not.

     He levels narrowed green vengeance on me, offset by a sly smile. “I’m the top of the food chain, babe. I’m all shark.”

     “That’s adorable. Especially coming from someone that wears a swim cap like my nana used to wear. Except yours has those darling cinnamon buns over the ears. Like Princess Leia.”

     He fights his amusement. “Those cinnamon buns are meant to protect my ears from all the rough, manly activity. And I’m tellin’ on you. I’m tellin’ all the guys you said that.”

     The Jeep comes to an abrupt stop. Only then do I realize we’re parked in front of the apartment building where my study group is being held. Scanning the parking lot, I see people I recognize from class pouring out of a car.

     My attention returns to Reagan and I find him watching me. His smile melts. His expression grows serious like he rarely ever is. I rake my hair down and get my fingers snagged on a few knots. Unfortunately I’m not the comb-carrying type.

     Mental note: purchase comb. Crazy winds are afoot.

     “Thank you for driving me.” I look for some sign of what’s going on in his mind and finding the door shut.

     “What time should I pick you up?” He reaches out and I lean away, staring at his hand. “Chill, Bailey. You have a piece sticking up.”

     “Oh…okay.” He’s trying to be helpful and I treat him like he’s a festering case of the bubonic plague. How embarrassing.

     I lean in and he sets about gently brushing down each and every one of my stray hairs, so gently I can barely feel him picking apart the knots. I can feel his breath on my skin. Fresh from a shower, I can smell his shampoo. My scalp tingles and goose bumps break out on my forearms. Lord give me strength.

About P. Dangelico:

Dangelico loves romance in all forms, cuddly creatures (four legged and two), really bloody sexy pulp, the NY Jets (although she’s reconsidering after this season), and to while away the day at the barn (apparently she does her best thinking shoveling horse crap). What she’s not enamored with is referring to herself in the third person and social media so don’t expect her to get on Twitter anytime soon. Oh, and although she was born in Italy, she’s been Jersey Strong since she turned six.

Connect with P. Dangelico:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/p.dangelico/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/PDanAuthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pdangelicoauthor/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2C91Fv7
Website: http://www.pdangelico.com/
Stay up to date with all things P. Dangelico. Join her mailing list, today: https://www.pdangelico.com/contact

 

Blog Tour: Dead of Night by Emily Goodwin

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Dead of Night by Emily Goodwin

Release Date: March 25th

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Dead of Night, an all-new standalone paranormal romance by Emily Goodwin

Never trust a vampire.

I might have learned that lesson the hard way. But when I find myself in a vampire-owned bar, I don’t have much of a choice. With vampires still trying to assimilate into mainstream society, I’ve done Lucas King a favor by stopping one of his patrons from draining a human dry in the basement of his bar. A favor he’d prefer to repay in bed than in kind.

Vampires and witches have had more than a jaded history, and when witches start showing up dead in surrounding covens, all signs point to something old and powerful. Something that knows the ways of the witches.

Something–or someone–like Lucas.

What’s worse than trusting a vampire? Falling in love with one.

Book one in the Dead of Night Series.

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Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2CvNum3

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

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JF7Qzc

Blog Tour Teaser.jpg

Excerpt:

     Talking to Lucas is easy, and having him know and approve of my life as a witch is a game changer. But it’s more than just the convenience of going on a date with a guy I don’t have to lie to. There’s more to Lucas than he lets on. He’s a complicated man but I know one thing for certain: he might not care for many people, but he’s fierce when it comes to those he loves.

     I finish my drink and set the empty glass down on a table and go back to the railing, looking out at the cityscape. Lucas steps in behind me, pressing my ass against his pelvis and resting his hands on my stomach. I’m right up against his cock, and while it’s not hard, I can still feel it through his pants.

     My mouth goes dry and I have to remind myself how to breathe. We’re standing on the deck of a crowded boat, yet somehow everyone else fades from view. Gently, he brushes my hair away from my shoulder, bringing it around my neck and smoothing the ends out against my breast. His fingers deliberately graze over my nipple, and dammit, he gets a physical response out of me. Chills run down my spine and I lean back, needing to feel more of him against me. He brings his hand down over my breast, along my stomach, and inches it down to my thigh. Slowly, he moves his fingers, gathering the hem of my dress in his hand.

     My heart flutters and speeds up. He brings his other hand down, running his fingers over my exposed flesh, dangerously close to my core. His lips press against my neck, gently kissing me.

     And then he draws his fangs. I can feel the razor-sharp tips on my skin. My pulse bounds, echoing in my head. If I can hear it, he can.

     He can feel it, too.

     Deft fingers sweep across my clit, just barely touching it through the thin fabric of my panties. Everything inside me heats up, and if he pressed his fingers to me again, he’d feel just how wet he’s making me right now. I grip the railing, needing to hold onto it for support. Trailing kisses, he moves his lips down along my neck, fangs digging into but not breaking my skin with each and every kiss.

     “Are you…are you hungry?” I ask, barely louder than a whisper. It doesn’t matter. Lucas can hear me. His mouth goes to my neck again, and his tongue lashes out, running along a vein. He pauses for a moment, and I know what he’s doing. He’s reading my heartbeat, finding the best place to bite me.

     “When I do drink you, it won’t be like this,” he growls, lips brushing against me as he speaks. “I want to feel you squirming in my lap as I sink my fangs into your neck. Hear you moan as your blood pours into my mouth.”

     I whimper, pressing my ass up against his cock, my entire body craving to feel it harden against me. Suddenly he pushes me away and spins me around so I’m facing him. I blink rapidly, trying to regain my composure. His hands land on my shoulders and he tips his head down, flashing his fangs.

     “I’ll give you want you want, but not until I’ve gotten what I need.”

About Emily:

Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.

Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.

Connect with Emily:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/emilygoodwinbooks

Instagram: www.instagram.com/authoremilygoodwin

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2EPLbu3

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2tCZn28

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2pEHdf8

 

Release Blitz: Nothing But Trouble by P. Dangelico

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Nothing But Trouble, an all new standalone Contemporary Romance by P. Dangelico is live!       

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Reagan Reynolds…

Water polo god.

Owner of a face that belongs under Wikipedia’s definition of drop dead gorgeous.

Too charming for his own good.

But most importantly––the worst driver on the planet.

No, really, I’m pretty sure his blind nana taught him how to drive.

I had no idea who he was until he almost ran me over. And frankly, I kind of wish I still didn’t because then I wouldn’t have a sprained ankle to show for it. And my leg wouldn’t resemble a boa constrictor that’s swallowed a feral pig.

Yeah, it’s that bad.

I’ve spent years saving every penny I’ve ever earned to be able to transfer to Malibu University. And now my entire future––including my scholarship––is in jeopardy.

So I either accept the help he insists on giving me, or lose everything I’ve sacrificed for.

In the meantime, I’m going to ignore the fact that we’re becoming friends.

And I’m definitely going to pretend he’s not turning into the object of my…umm, dirty fantasies.

That’s not happening.

Not even a little.

Because the minute I clapped eyes on him I knew he was nothing but trouble.

ANFB.jpg

Download your copy today!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DRrqU7

Apple Books: https://apple.co/2GbI3v0

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2CY8yAU

Nook: http://bit.ly/2SsB1J1

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2H2Fqgx

Release Blitz Teaser.jpg

About P. Dangelico:

Dangelico loves romance in all forms, cuddly creatures (four legged and two), really bloody sexy pulp, the NY Jets (although she’s reconsidering after this season), and to while away the day at the barn (apparently she does her best thinking shoveling horse crap). What she’s not enamored with is referring to herself in the third person and social media so don’t expect her to get on Twitter anytime soon. Oh, and although she was born in Italy, she’s been Jersey Strong since she turned six.

Connect with P. Dangelico:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/p.dangelico/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/PDanAuthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pdangelicoauthor/
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2C91Fv7
Website: http://www.pdangelico.com/
Stay up to date with all things P. Dangelico. Join her mailing list, today: https://www.pdangelico.com/contact

 

Release Blitz: Dead of Night by Emily Goodwin

Release Blitz Banner-2.jpg

Dead of Night, an all-new standalone paranormal romance by Emily Goodwin is live!

Dead of Night Book Cover.jpg

Never trust a vampire.

I might have learned that lesson the hard way. But when I find myself in a vampire-owned bar, I don’t have much of a choice. With vampires still trying to assimilate into mainstream society, I’ve done Lucas King a favor by stopping one of his patrons from draining a human dry in the basement of his bar. A favor he’d prefer to repay in bed than in kind.

Vampires and witches have had more than a jaded history, and when witches start showing up dead in surrounding covens, all signs point to something old and powerful. Something that knows the ways of the witches.

Something–or someone–like Lucas.

What’s worse than trusting a vampire? Falling in love with one.

Book one in the Dead of Night Series.

ANFB-2.jpg

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2CvNum3

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

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2JF7Qzc

Release Blitz Teaser.jpg

About Emily:

Emily Goodwin is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of over a dozen of romantic titles. Emily writes the kind of books she likes to read, and is a sucker for a swoon-worthy bad boy and happily ever afters.

She lives in the midwest with her husband and two daughters. When she’s not writing, you can find her riding her horses, hiking, reading, or drinking wine with friends.

Emily is represented by Julie Gwinn of the Seymour Agency.

Connect with Emily:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/emilygoodwinbooks

Instagram: www.instagram.com/authoremilygoodwin

Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2EPLbu3

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2tCZn28

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2pEHdf8

 

Blog Tour: With A Hitch by RC Boldt

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With A Hitch by RC Boldt

Release Date: March 19th

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With A Hitch, an all-new standalone contemporary romance by RC Boldt.

She’s playing it safe. He’s playing for keeps.

DARCY

Growing up in the foster system, I learned the hard way that lasting love doesn’t always come easy. Dating in the modern era can be daunting; the bar scene and dating apps leave you wondering if there’s any hope in sight.

That’s where I come in. Helping you break the “swipe-right” cycle, I’m dedicated to matching you with the love of your life.

Finding Mrs. Right for Dax Kendrick should be a piece of cake. Except nothing about this man is simple.

DAX

The NFL has given me more than I ever imagined—a roof over my head, food on the table, and a chance to provide for the family who sacrificed everything while I chased my dreams.

Maintaining a squeaky-clean image for my sponsors when my paycheck and the fruits of my endorsements are all the women want is a hefty challenge.

I’d nearly given up when I hired Darcy Cole. Yet the more I’m around her, the less I care about finding my perfect match.

Because it might be right in front of me.

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Download your copy today!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2HgZnQ4

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

Apple Books US: https://goo.gl/LRqtYk

Kobo:  https://goo.gl/nLfiA3

Nook: https://goo.gl/zfJj6v

Google Play: https://goo.gl/r7a3N8

Amazon Paperback: https://goo.gl/MheXja

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2TKiVQ8

Blog Tour.jpg

Excerpt:

DAX

* * *

     “Where’s my favorite girl?” I call out, entering my childhood home.

     “I’m here, Uncle Dax!” my niece, Violet, hollers through the house just before her quick footsteps follow.

     My parents refused to let me buy them a new house once I started putting money in the bank. Mom didn’t want the neighbors to think she and Dad thought they were better than anyone else. This means my parents, my sister, and niece, all still live in the fifteen-hundred-square-feet home I grew up in.

     I did pay off their mortgage as well as my sister’s student loans before I set up a college fund for my niece, much to their dismay. But let’s be honest, it’s the least I could do for a family who’s always been there for me.

     Dad refused to retire from the hardware store, but I at least got him to agree to go from full-time to part-time a few years ago. It took some aggressive bargaining, but when I’d shown him how well the account I’d started for them with my financial planner had been doing, he’d finally relented.

     “Hey! I thought I was your favorite girl!” another female voice protests.

     “Well, I don’t know,” I hedge. “Depends on if you made any chocolate chip cookies.”

     My mother promptly swats at me with a laugh, the little crinkles at the corners of her eyes becoming more pronounced. The guys always say I resemble my mom, and even though I know they say it in more of a shit talking, you look like your mama kind of way, it’s still true. She and I have the same smile, and although her skin is darker than mine—my dad’s the odd man out in the family with fair white skin—there’s no mistaking me for being her son.

     I pull her close for a hug, and she pats my back, mumbling, “I swear, you just keep getting more muscles every time I see you.” The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder, and her dark hair seems like it has more gray threaded in it each time I see her.

     “Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has.”

     My eyes catch sight of Violet and my sister, Ava, entering the small kitchen. Mom releases me, and Violet rushes past her mother intent on getting to me first. I bend and scoop her up in a big hug.

     “Uncle Dax, I missed you.” Her whispered words wrap themselves around me.

     “I missed you, too, love bug.” God, I swear, she’s growing like a damn weed lately. Once I set her on her feet, she starts talking a mile a minute.

     “Oh my gosh, Uncle Dax! You’re not going to believe what happened the other day in gymnastics camp. That girl I told you about—the one who was saying my hair was weird and stuff—well, I finally had enough, and I did what you told me to do.”

     All eyes are suddenly on me. Trust me when I say this is not what a man wants in this household because it normally means I’m in deep shit.

     “Uh, remind me again what I told you?” I say slowly, praying to God above that I hadn’t made some idiotic, off-the-cuff comment as a joke, and she took me seriously.

     Violet gives me one of those old people are so forgetful looks. “You said I could use sarcasm because most people who are mean and rude don’t understand it, and it’ll go over their head and be a beautiful inside joke for you and everyone else who doesn’t have shit for brains.”

     “Violet,” my mother and Ava say in unison, flashing me a stern look.

     Violet grimaces. “Sorry. But I was quoting him.” Then she picks right up. “And then you said I should let it roll off my shoulders like it doesn’t bother me.” She grins happily. “Well, I did a combination of the two. And she’s totally left me alone ever since.” My niece pumps a fist in the air. “Go Team Kendrick!”

     “Way to go!” We exchange a high five. Sobering, I school my face in a stern expression. “Remember not to cuss, though. It’s not ladylike.”

     Her sweet face peers up at me, so adorably cute with such seriousness that it takes all my effort to not break into a smile. “How about ‘crap’?”

     “Uh…” I flick my eyes to Ava, who makes a face before shrugging. “I think that one can be okay, as long as it’s not overused.”

     Violet nods. “Noted.” God, this kid is such an old soul sometimes. “I’m going to practice my backflips for gymnastics some more out back.” In a flash, she’s gone.

     I sag against the counter. “Man, two minutes, and I’m exhausted.”

     My sister sidles up beside me and snickers. “As if Mr. Gatorade himself ever gets exhausted.”

     I toss her a sharp look. “Seriously? One advertising campaign for a sports drink, and you’re giving me sh—”

     “Ahem!” our mother clears her throat pointedly.

     “Crap.” Mom nods in approval, and I continue. “About it?” I place a palm flat against the center of my chest, feigning sadness. “Where’s the love?”

     She shoves at me playfully. “You get enough love from all your admirers.”

     Mom huffs. “You need to settle down with a nice woman.”

     “Speaking of a nice woman…” I press my lips thin, trying to figure out how to best tell them I decided to use a matchmaking service, but decide to throw caution to the wind. “I hired a professional,” I blurt out.

      As if in slow motion, my mother turns around slowly from where she’s stirring something on the stove. My sister’s jaw goes slack. And they both gape at me.

     Just the reaction a guy wants.

     My mother’s expression is horrified. Not quite what I was expecting, but then again, she’s always been a spitfire.

     “Dax Allen Kendrick! I forbid it!”

     I rear back, confused as hell. “Why would you forbid it?”

     Her jaw drops, and she gasps indignantly. “Why would I forbid it?!” She turns to my sister, her voice increasing in volume. “Why would I forbid it?!”

     “Say it again, Mom. Not sure we heard you the first time,” my sister deadpans.

     If my mother didn’t have a freaking wooden spoon in her hand, I’d let out the laugh aching to break free. I got to know that sucker really well through my early years, and even though I’m older, I don’t put it past my mother to come at me with that thing.

     Speaking of which, my right ass cheek starts to throb in remembrance at the mere sight of that spoon.

     I hold up my hands. “Calm down, Mom.” Shit. I didn’t expect this reaction. “Look, she’s great at what she does and—”

     The hand holding the wooden spoon rises another inch, and I flinch in response. “Don’t you tell me what she’s great at, young man!”

     I look at my sister, silently pleading for help. She merely shrugs, wide-eyed, with an I don’t pretend to understand her look.

     Great. I’m left to fend for myself once again.

     “Can you just put that thing”—I gesture to the spoon in her hand—“down, so I can explain?”

     My mother’s lips purse like she’s just bit into the sourest of lemons. Her eyes practically spew fire at me. “Fine.” Her tone is curt. “But you’re not too old to get swatted with it, young man,” she warns with a pointed look.

     My hands fly to my ass protectively, and my sister snorts. I glare at her, and she simply sticks her tongue out at me in response.

     Some things never change.

     “Okay, so Ivy, Becket’s wife—”

     My mother’s expression instantly softens. “Such a sweet girl, that one.” Then with a stern look, she adds, “You need to find someone like that.”

     I draw in a deep breath, praying for patience. “Ivy’s business partner, Darcy, runs a matchmaking service and—” At the odd expression on my mother’s face, I stop. “What’s that look for?”

     “Oh, honey.” She lets out a long sigh before spinning around to tend to the saucepan on the stove.

      I stare at my sister expectantly. Her lips twitch as though she’s attempting to restrain a smile. I wave her on. “Say it.”

     She snickers. “Mom thought when you said ‘professional,’ you meant prostitute.”

     I whip around to stare at my mother. “Are you serious?!” What the hell? “You really think I’d hire a freaking prostitute?”

     “Apparently so,” my sister chimes in with a smirk.

     I toss up my hands in exasperation. “I can’t believe you think I’d resort to that.”

     “Well,” my sister starts, “you have been single for a while.”

     “That doesn’t mean I’d hire a prostitute for fu—” Mom’s head whips around in warning, and I correct myself quickly. “For God’s sake.”

     “What’s a prostitute?”

     Fucking hell. Violet’s just come back inside.

     “Nothing.” That’s my mother’s response.

     “A person who makes bad choices.” My sister’s no-nonsense response.

     “A woman who sells—” This time, I really do get swatted with the wooden spoon. As if it doesn’t sting enough against my bare forearm, I now have a line of pasta sauce on it too.

     I grin and make a show of licking the sauce off my skin. Mom hates that.

     She raises the spoon threateningly, and I hold up my hands in surrender. “I just want to be loved. What’s a guy have to do to get some love these days?”

     “Pretty sure you already know what you have to do to get some love,” my sister mutters under her breath.

     I jab an index finger in her direction and give her a sharp look. “Watch it, or I’ll tell Mom who broke that angel statue she brought home from a garage sale.”

     Ava’s expression morphs into astonishment. “You swore you’d never bring that up!” Her lips curve suddenly in a devious smile. “As long as I never tell Mom what happened to that pair of booty shorts she got you for twenty-five cents.”

     “What shorts?” my mother asks.

     I stare at her in complete disbelief. “Seriously? You’re more worried about the hideous shorts that put my junk on display than the statue she broke?”

     My mother sputters. “But you said you loved those shorts!”

     I glance up at the ceiling, hoping for divine intervention, which, of course, never comes. “Mom,” I say with exaggerated patience. “The shorts were cut so high I would’ve had to wax.”

     “Well, you could’ve said so,” she huffs, turning back to the stove. “They were a great deal.”

     “I’m sure they were a steal for a quarter.” My sister snickers at my sarcastic response, and we burst out laughing.

     Our mom’s been a fan of garage sales for as far back as we can remember. Sometimes she brings home some decent stuff, but more often than not, it ends up being some hideous “treasure.”

     Hence the shorts.

     “You two are gonna get it!” Mom warns, raising that infamous wooden spoon once more.

     Man, it’s good to be home.

 

About RC Boldt

RC Boldt enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you’re in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can’t recall the lyrics to a particular 80’s song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she’s your girl.  


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