I wasn’t even sure why, but it was something about the way Mack was looking at me. And the tension in his body—the taut muscles in his neck. The grip of his fingers on the edge of the counter. The set of his jaw. It gave the impression of restraint. Like he was holding himself back.

Something unfamiliar hummed in the air between us. I could feel it—he wanted me the way I wanted him.

No wonder I couldn’t breathe.

Then he cleared his throat and turned away from me, cutting off the current. “Sure. Everybody needs to make mistakes now and then.”

I’d forgotten I’d even asked the question.

He turned the sink on, rinsed his dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher. I stood there staring at his muscular back, at the width of his shoulders, at the snug fit of his jeans on his butt. If I were his and he were mine, I’d go over and wrap my arms around his waist, press my cheek to his back. Then he’d turn around, winding his arms around me. He’d lower his lips to mine, and—

“I should get you home,” he said, interrupting my fantasy. “Want to grab your coat?”

“Sure.” But I didn’t really want to leave. I wanted to stay in this warm, chaotic house with him and the girls. Pretend I belonged here. Pretend I belonged to him.

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Melanie is the author of the AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

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James Russo is enemy #1.

Hating him is in my blood.

Bitter Rival, an all-new forbidden romance from New York Times bestselling author J. Sterling, is coming March 21st and we have the hot new cover for you!

Our families have been at war for generations; a bitter rivalry with no end in sight. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make wine, but one night with James will cost me everything.

I shouldn’t be attracted to him… but I am.

I definitely shouldn’t want to sleep with him… but I do.

Is following my heart worth the risk of losing my vineyard and my legacy?

Because in my family, there could be no greater betrayal than sleeping with the enemy.

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I live in California with my son, Blake. If you can’t find me sitting behind a computer screen, then there’s a good chance I’m sitting in the bleachers of a baseball stadium watching him play. I love traveling to new places, meeting my readers and spending time with the love of my life, my very own second chance romance, who inspires me daily.

I know you have a million books to choose from and I am humbled, grateful and thankful each time you choose to read one of mine, or tell someone else to read them. Thank you.

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PIKE Eu a acolhi porque pensei que estava ajudando. Ela prepararia algumas refeições e daria uma limpada na casa. Era um acordo simples. Com o passar dos dias, porém, está se tornando tudo, menos simples. Tenho que parar de pensar nela e de prender a respiração toda vez que nos esbarramos pela casa. Não posso tocá-la, e eu não deveria querer. Quanto mais me vejo cruzando o seu caminho, mais ela se torna parte de mim. Mas não estamos livres para ceder a essa atração. Ela tem dezenove anos e eu trinta e oito. E sou pai do namorado dela. Infelizmente, os dois acabaram de se mudar para a minha casa.

* BIRTHDAY GIRL é um romance contemporâneo, adequado para maiores de 18 anos.

FICHA TÉCNICA: Título: Birthday Girl Autora: Penelope Douglas ISBN: 978-85-52923-63-3 Preço de capa: R$49,90 Páginas: 375

Se você está lendo esta carta, então, você sabe como funciona a “última-carta”. Você sobreviveu. Eu não. Saia do “trem da culpa”, porque eu não que se tivesse alguma chance que você poderia ter me salvado, você teria.

Eu preciso de uma coisa de você: Saia do exército e vá para Telluride.

Minha irmã mais nova, Ella, está criando gêmeos sozinha. Ele é muito independente e não aceita ajuda facilmente, mas ela perdeu nossa avó, nossos pais, e agora eu. É muito para qualquer um aguentar. Não é justo.

Mas tem mais: tem alguma coisa que você não sabe que está destruindo a família dela. Ela vai precisar de ajuda.

Se eu me fui, isso signifca que eu não posso estar presente para Ella. Eu não posso ajudá-la a passar por isso. Mas você pode. Então eu estou implorando, que como meu melhor amigo, você vá tomar conta da minha irmã, da minha família.

Por favor, não a faça passar por isso sozinha.

Ryan

If you’re reading this, well, you know the “last-letter” drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there were any chance you could have saved me, you would have.

I need one thing from you: Get out of the army and get to Telluride.

My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. It’s not fair.

And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart. She’s going to need help.

So if I’m gone, that means I can’t be there for Ella. I can’t help them through this. But you can. So I’m begging you, as my best friend, go take care of my sister, my family.

Please don’t make her go through it alone.

Ryan

“Ella.” It was a plea to speak, to not speak. Hell, I didn’t know anymore.

“You don’t see me like that. I totally get it.” She reached for the TV remote.

“How exactly do I see you? Please, enlighten me.” I leaned forward, stealing the remote. She’d opened this box and had better well dish it.

She huffed in annoyance. “You see me as a mom. As Colt and Maisie’s mom. And of course you do, because that’s what I am. A mom with two kids.”

“Well, yeah,” I said. Her motherhood—that selfless devotion she had to her kids—was one of her most attractive attributes.

She rolled her eyes with a little sigh, and the metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.

“You don’t think I want you.”

She shot me a look that confirmed my guess and blushed the same crimson of her couch. “You know, you’re right. It’s late.” She faked a yawn. “Suuuuuuper late.”

“I want you.” Damn, it felt so good to say the words.

“Yeah, okay.” She gave me a goofy look and a thumbs-up. “Please don’t make me feel any more idiotic than I do right now.”

Yeah, enough of this bullshit.

I pounced in one smooth motion, taking her back to the couch, sliding over her as I gathered her wrists in one hand above her head and settled between her open thighs.

Home.

“Holy shit, you move fast.” There was no fear or rejection in her eyes, just surprise.

“Not in every arena,” I promised.

Her lips parted.

“Ella. I want you.”

“Beckett…you don’t have to.”

Yeah, that soft little sigh she did was going to be my undoing.

I let go of her wrists, letting my fingers trail down her arm until I had one hand weaving my fingers into the hair at the base of her scalp and the other at the curve in her waist.

“Feel this?” Then I slid forward, letting my dick stroke along the seam in her pajama pants hard enough for her to gasp at the contact. I couldn’t remember ever wanting to shred a piece of fabric so much in my life. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”

I moved again, and her eyes slid shut as she let loose the sweetest moan.

My dick throbbed, knowing everything I’d fantasized about for the better part of the last eight months was one decision away.

“Beckett.” Her hands found my biceps, her nails digging in.

“Don’t ever think that I don’t want you, because if things were different, I would have already been inside you. I would know exactly how you feel, and what you sound like, look like, when you come. I’ve thought about it at least a hundred different ways, and believe me, I’ve got a great imagination.”

She rocked her hips against me, and I locked my jaw to keep from giving her exactly what her body was asking for. “Ella, you have to stop.”

“Why?” she asked, her lips dangerously close to mine. “What do you mean if things were different?” Her eyes flew wide. “Is this because I have kids?”

“What? No. Of course not. It’s because you’re Ryan’s little sister.” Before I could do any more damage, I got the hell off her and sat back on my side of the couch.

“Because…I’m Ryan’s little sister,” she repeated, scooting so she sat upright, facing me. “And you think he’d, what? Haunt you?”

Three things: The letter. The cancer. The lie.

I repeated those in my head until I was certain I could look at her and not drag her back under me.

“Beckett?”

“When I was growing up, if I wanted something, I took it. Immediately. I had sex at fourteen with a girl in my foster home of the moment. I opened Christmas presents early if I was lucky enough to get one, and it was usually from my social worker or some charity.”

“I don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around her knees again.

“I took it immediately because I knew if I didn’t, chances were I wouldn’t get it. It was a now-or-never kind of thing—there weren’t second chances.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t touch you, can’t talk about it, because I’m afraid I’ll act on it.”

“And why does that matter if I want you to?”

“Because I won’t get a second chance. And I’m crap with people, with relationships. I’ve never had one that lasted more than a month. Never loved a woman I’ve slept with. And chances are I’d do something to screw this up, because it’s not just my dick that wants you, Ella.”

That O popped right back onto her face, and I closed my eyes to keep from lunging across the distance and kissing her. Knowing she’d let me—that she wanted it—sent my need from a bullet to a nuclear missile.

“And when I’d screw it up, because it would happen, trust me, it would hurt Colt and Maisie, too. You’d be on your own again, because there’s no chance you’d let me hang around and help you out like Ryan asked.”

“And there it is.”

“There it is. You’re Ryan’s little sister.”

“There were only five years between us. Not so little, you know.” She reached for the remote.

“I’m well aware.”

“So if Ryan were still alive…” She shot one last look at me.

I let everything slip for a millisecond, letting her see it all in my eyes, how badly I wanted her, and not just for her body. “Everything would be different.”

“Everything?”

“Everything but the way I feel about you, which he probably would have killed me for. Where does that leave us?”

“You mean besides me being a dried-up spinster and you being honor-bound to a ghost?”

“Something like that.”

She rolled her head along the back of the couch, muttering something that sounded like a curse word under her breath. Then she sat up straight and powered on the TV with a click of her thumb. “That leaves us choosing a movie on demand. Because I’m not letting you walk out that door right now.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. You walk out now, you might get all weird about this and not come back. Honor is a fabulous thing, but sometimes pride can be a lot stronger, especially when you convince yourself it’s for the good of the other person.”

Damn, the woman knew me.

“So movie it is,” I agreed. “Just…stay on your side of the couch.”

“I wasn’t the one who crossed the center line,” she teased with a smile that got me hard all over again.

Movie chosen, we sat and watched, both of us stealing sideways glances. There was that saying…the horse out of the barn. Yeah, the horse was out of the barn, and it wasn’t going back in. Not no way. Not no how.

That horse was running amok and screwing with my carefully constructed control.

But I didn’t complain when she moved over. Or when she pressed against my side. Nope. I lifted my arm and savored the feel of her curves, her trust. Still didn’t complain when she lay down in my arms. Hell no, I held on and memorized every second.

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About Rebecca Yarros:

Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and a lover of all things coffee, chocolate, and Paleo. She is the author of the Flight & Glory series, including Full Measures, the award-winning Eyes Turned Skyward, Beyond What is Given, and Hallowed Ground. She loves military heroes, and has been blissfully married to hers for sixteen years.

When she’s not writing, she’s tying hockey skates for her four sons, sneaking in some guitar time, or watching brat-pack movies with her two daughters. She lives in Colorado with the hottest Apache pilot ever, their rambunctious gaggle of kids, an English bulldog who is more stubborn than sweet, and a bunny named General Fluffy Pants who torments the aforementioned bulldog. Having adopted their youngest daughter from the foster system, and Rebecca is passionate about helping others do the same.

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The world knows Samantha Brooks as the violin prodigy. She guards her secret truth—the desire she harbors for her guardian.

Liam North got custody of her six years ago. She’s all grown up now, but he still treats her like a child. No matter how much he wants her.

No matter how bad he aches for one taste.

Her sweet overtures break down the ex-soldier’s defenses, but there’s more at stake than her body. Every touch, every kiss, every night. The closer she gets, the more exposed his darkest secret.

She’s one step away from finding out what happened the night she lost her family. One step away from leaving him forever.

OVERTURE is the first novel in a brand new series from New York Times bestselling author Skye Warren.

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “That wasn’t exactly the reason. And even though I didn’t know you before I took custody, I’ve grown to care about you over the years. If I didn’t state it clearly enough, then the fault lies with me. I wasn’t raised to show… affection.”

I stare at him, incredulous. Affection? It’s a cold comfort to a girl who’s always wanted the surety of forever. And the word might as well be alien to a man like him. “I’m going to tour the country. The world. I’m leaving, Liam.”

He looks away. “Christ.”

Unease moves through me. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?”

“I don’t know why you would want to.”

“Because I care about you.” Liam is six feet of pure muscle and hard will. There’s no way someone like me could go up against him and win. Except that when I take a step closer, he tenses. Another step and he goes still as stone. It gives me a sense of power, enough that I take the final step. “I care about you even though you’re controlling.”

There’s only an inch between the ruffle of my blouse and the flat of his abs.

“You think I’m going to apologize for keeping you safe?” he mutters. “You think I give a damn that you’re mad at me as long as you’re in one piece? That’s the only thing that matters.”

“Because you think of me like a daughter?”

He shakes his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. “No.”

“No?” I whisper.

“When I walked in on you…” His voice is hoarse. “I didn’t think of you like a daughter.”

I should probably be horrified that he would think about me in any way other than family, except I’m the one who started it. I take a step closer, and there’s nowhere for him to go. He’s already backed up against the wall. This big, strong man who could probably make a whole army quake—or at least a battalion. And he’s cornered by me.

This close I can see the green of his eyes, so dark they’re almost emerald, flecked with gold. A scar bisects one dark eyebrow, probably a scar from something terrifying and deadly.

“How did you think of me?” I’m afraid to know the answer, but I’m even more terrified of never knowing. Of being a nameless, faceless body in that writhing crowd, hooking up with a stranger when the man I really want is standing right in front of me, inches away, his breath a feather-touch on my forehead.

A small shake of his head. “It’s not right.”

I’m not sure what right and wrong mean when it comes to us, but I know what it means for music. Someone can play a piece with perfect timing and notation. They can hit every single note, but it still won’t have passion. That part comes from inside. “Then be wrong with me. Don’t make me do it alone.”

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his in a blind, artless kiss. I’m off center of his mouth, kissing the corner. He stands still as a statue, letting me wobble on my heels, letting me fall against him, only my broken kiss to balance me.

Grief beats against my ribs. He’s going to make me do it alone. Of course he is. I’m always alone. A small sound escapes me. Loneliness. Pain. It vibrates against his mouth, sound made real.

He jolts as if I’ve shocked him. Something unspools inside him. I feel it in the inch of air between us. And then I feel it in my lips. He takes over the kiss with shocking possession, his hand behind my head, his body turning us so I’m against the wall. He looms in front of me, blocking out the view. There are no vinyl records on the wall, no bass thrumming through concrete and steel. There’s only him, only this.How is it possible that only a few minutes ago I felt powerful? I didn’t know what this would be. I couldn’t know the way I’d revel in surrender.

His tongue touches the seam of my lips, a pure electric sensation that makes me jump. I part my lips in surprise, pulling in the scent of him—man and earth, salt and sea. He tastes elemental. His tongue swipes the tender inside of my bottom lip. It’s more sensitive there than I could have imagined. I feel the slickness of the caress all the way in my core. My thighs clench together.

So careful. So wary. I touch my tongue against his. He’s the one who groans.

His hand fists in my hair, creating a delicious little ache. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he breathes, and I try to shake my head; it only makes him pull harder.

“Liam… I need…” It’s like the bedroom when he walked in on me, my hips rocking, mindless, hungry. Worse than that. My whole body is moving restlessly against him.

He tears himself away with a hard sound. Only an inch away. A rough tremor runs through him. It’s a small comfort, knowing that I’ve moved this man. Knowing how much control he has, knowing it’s eroded. But only a small comfort. He still leaves me panting against the door.

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he says, his voice taut with guilt.

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That time I had the brilliant idea to ask my good friend for lessons in seduction…
Awkward? Maybe. But how else is a good girl going to find out if she likes being naughty? I might be sweet as cherry pie, but I’m also bold and damn curious. And Gabe is charming, trustworthy, aces at seduction (or so I hear) and—bonus!— willing to give me lessons. But to guarantee it won’t ruin our friendship, I have some specific requirements for his instruction. I want these classes to be hypothetical more than hands-on. So what if he’s hella sexy? I can handle that, no problem.
***
I have it bad for Arden. She’s bright, brilliant, insanely fun, and I want to take her home and spend all night together—and then spend the day with her, too. When she asks for my help, I see my chance to win her sweet heart by showing her how much fun we can have getting spicy. Trouble is, she has a different idea of what “bedroom exploration” should mean. Now I’m going to have to get really clever to win her over.
Good thing I know exactly how to upend her best laid plans.

1 – Gabe. Subiu para o lugar mais alto do pódio no meu amor por personagens da Lauren.
2 – Arden. Tudo nela é maravilhoso, e ainda é apaixonada por livros!
3 – Gatos resgatados morando numa livraria
4 – Um grupo de amigas maravilhoso!!
5 – Um clube do livro com mulheres doidas!
6 – Um homem que ama sua família

Deixe-me parar por aqui antes que eu conte tudo que acontece no livro, mas posso dizer que li o livro todo com um sorriso no rosto, de tão delicioso que ele é. Vá correndo comprar sua cópia!

1- Gabe. He is now my favorite hero from Lauren’s books.
2 – Arden. What is not to love? She is a book lover like us!
3 – Rescue cats living in a bookstore!
4 – A really great group of friends
5 – Crazy book club ladies
6 – A man that loves his family

Ok, let me stop here so I don’t tell you everything that happened on the book, but I have to say that I read it with a smile on my face. Really, I couldn’t stop smiling. Go grab your copy and read it!

~GABE~

Arden has never pumped me for dating details before. Not the tawdry ones at least. I half want to believe it means something, but it could mean nothing at all.

“Just curious,” she says nonchalantly as she grabs her favorite purple ball. She makes it sound so casual, her inquiry. But there’s that word again from Words with Friends—curious—and it snags on my brain. Why exactly is she so curious?

A second later, she gives me the answer. “Everyone’s coming into the bookstore buying these racier books. It just got me thinking.”

She turns away, heads to the top of the lane, and holds the ball in front of her.

And her comment has me thinking too.

About dirtier books.

If she reads them.

What she likes between the sheets.

What her curiosity has piqued exactly. Well, besides me. I’m definitely piqued, and I make a quick adjustment in my jeans so it’s not so damn obvious.

As she tosses the ball down the lane, her left leg arcing behind her, showing a hint of the back of her thighs, I groan.

I want to know the landscape of her body. Want to slide my hands up and down her legs, nibble on her ass, and make her whimper.

I would love to know what would make Arden go wild in bed.

That’s not only because I’m wildly attracted to her.

It’s because I want to know what makes her tick in the bedroom as well as I know what excites her out of it.

I want to know her in every way.

Sooner or later, I’m going to have to figure out how to drive this car clear out of the friend zone.

Sooner is my preference.

Like maybe this weekend at the party here at the bowling alley.

Maybe I can find a way to pique her interest in me.

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About Lauren Blakely:

A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sweet, sexy and witty. Her heroines are strong and smart and her heroes have hearts of gold and fantastic funny bones. She lives in California with her family, including her smoking hot and hilarious husband and her two brilliant and kind children. She has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs — she might have four dogs, or maybe five. If she’s lucky, she’ll soon have six dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than 100 times, and she’s sold more than 3 million books. In February she’ll release BEST LAID PLANS, in March THE FEEL-GOOD FACTOR, and in May THE DATING PROPOSAL. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter

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The son of evil incarnate.

The heir to corruption and depravity.

Gabrielle Duval once belonged to me. And whether she likes
it or not, she’s destined to be mine again. What will it take to lure this
luscious woman back into my bed? A deal with the devil himself, of course.

My name is JD Wilder, and this is the story of how I reclaim
what’s mine.

A romantic at heart, Eva looks forward to date night all
week. The perfect evening includes well-crafted cocktails, a fabulous perfume,
Cherry Garcia ice cream, and her husband, of course. If you add good friends,
live jazz, and impossible shoes, she will follow you anywhere.

Eva holds a BA from Boston College, and a JD from the
Washington College of Law. She spent a career working in domestic violence,
child abuse and neglect, and civil rights. Aspects of this work often find
their way into her books.

When she’s not writing sexy stories, trying to squeeze
information out of her tight-lipped sons, or playing with the two cutest dogs
you’ve ever seen, Eva’s creating chapters in her own love story.

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A Resenha de hoje é de Kill Switch, o terceiro livro da série Devil’s Night da autora Penelope Douglas

Today’s review is about Kill Switch, the Third book in the Devil’s Night Series by Penelope Douglas

Kill Switch, an all-new standalone dark romantic suspense by Penelope Douglas.

WINTER

Sending him to prison was the worst thing I could’ve done. It didn’t matter that he did the crime or that I wished he was dead. Perhaps I thought I’d have time to disappear before he got out or he’d cool off in jail and be anything but the horror he was.

But I was wrong. Three years came and went too fast, and now he’s anything but calm. Prison only gave him time to plan.

And while I anticipated his vengeance, I didn’t expect this.

He doesn’t want to make me hurt. He wants to make everything hurt.

DAMON

First thing’s first. Get rid of her daddy. He told them I forced her. He told them his little girl was a victim, but I was a kid, too, and she wanted it just as much as I did.

Step two… Give her, her sister, and her mother nowhere to run and no fuel to escape. The Ashby women are alone now and desperate for a knight in shining armor.

But that’s not what’s coming.

No, it’s time I listened to my father and took control of my future. It’s time I showed them all—my family, her family, my friends—that I will never change and that I have no other ambition than to be the nightmare of their lives.

Starting with her.

She’ll be so scared, she won’t even be safe in her own head by the time I’m done with her. And the best part is I won’t have to break into her home to do it.

As the new man of the house I have all the keys.

Kill Switch is suitable for readers 18+. While it can be read as a stand-alone, all of the characters are developed throughout the series. The first two books, Corrupt and Hideaway, are now available through Kindle Unlimited!

“I’m sixteen, and I’ve never been kissed.” I put my hands on his chest, feeling my breasts grazing his body. “I waited for you.”

“Winter…”

“I waited for you,” I repeated, panting and brushing his lips with mine. “But I won’t wait forever.”

I layered my lips with his and dipped my tongue out, flicking his lip as I rolled my hips on him. The unmistakably hard ridge of his cock rubbed against my panties through his jeans, and I moaned.

He grabbed me under my arms, holding me up to his face. “That better not be a threat,” he bit out.

And then he took my face in one hand and snatched up my lips, biting my bottom one, almost chewing it like he was starving.

He groaned, I whimpered, and we both gave in, holding each other in our arms, our mouths melting together.

I was fast and clumsy, and I couldn’t keep up with his kisses and tongue in my mouth, but I loved every second.

He nibbled and bit and took with force, gripping the back of my hair to tip my head back and eat at my neck. He moved from my throat to my chin to my jaw and then back to my mouth, and I clutched at his shoulders, tugging on his sweatshirt as I dry-humped him. God, I couldn’t stop myself. He felt so good. It was like an itch that I needed to scratch more and harder.

I tugged at my bow tie, unable to breathe.

Pulling it loose, I unbuttoned my top button, finally feeling freer and diving in, hugging him to where he was sucking on my neck.

My hips moved back and forth, grinding into him

“Winter…” he groaned, pulling back. “I don’t want to…”

I picked up pace, and he grabbed my ass, helping me move.

“Don’t want to what?” I gasped out.

“Make you dirty.”

I slowed, touching his mouth with mine and kissing him softly.

Why would he think that?

“You won’t.” I shook my head, touching his face. “We won’t go all the way. We’ll just play.”

He breathed out a laugh.

I kissed him, and he dug his fingers in again, making my body explode and every inch of skin come alive. God, I loved it when he did that.

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Penelope Douglas is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. Her books have been translated into fourteen languages and include The Fall Away Series, The Devil’s Night Series, and the stand-alones, Misconduct, Punk 57, and Birthday Girl. Please look for Kill Switch (Devil’s Night #3), available now.

She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and their daughter.

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It was supposed to be a Friday night like any other for Lana and her best friends. Three girls out to cause a little trouble. Break a few hearts. And try not to get caught. Except on this night, Lana Peri is the sole witness to a horrific crime, and she can’t say a word. Not if she wants to protect her friends. No one will believe her word over his, so he gets away with it. And she’s forced to pay for her silence.

Instead of serving time in juvie, Lana is sentenced to a boarding school for privileged teens. Removed from everyone she knows and cares about, she’s abandoned at Blackwood School in Vermont, where everything is an illusion, including the lives of those who attend the elite institution. Lana isn’t wealthy or privileged. The only thing she has in common with the sons and daughters of celebrities and politicians is that she’s a delinquent, just like them. And they’ve all been forced to grow up much too fast.

Just when Lana begins to feel accepted, mysterious notes start showing up in her belongings and ominous threats are painted on her wall. Only someone she knows could have done it. Someone she thought was a friend. As the pieces fall into place, secrets begin to emerge, leaving Lana with too many questions and not enough people to trust.

The Cursed Series is a thrilling and tangled mystery that explores the sacrifice of love and the secrets kept to protect friends. How do you know who to trust when no one is telling the truth?

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Rebecca Donovan, the USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling YA author of The Breathing Series and What If, lives in a small town in Massachusetts with her son. Influenced and obsessed with music, Rebecca can often be found jumping around at concerts, or on a plane to go see one. She’s determined to experience (not just live) life. And then write about it.

Abby

I only have one love now—the home furnishings business I’m building into an empire. Maybe money and success can’t love me back, but they keep what’s left of my heart safe. One-night stands are my way of scratching the occasional itch I get for something more. And no one’s better for that than a sexy as sin hockey player I’ll never see again after one very hot night together.

Luca

I used to love two things: hockey and women. But now my nieces and nephew are my top priority, because I’m raising them after tragedy stole their parents. Somehow I balance single parenthood and my career as a forward for the Chicago Blaze. There’s no time for women, until I get knocked on my ass by Abby Daniels. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but her devastating past may end us before we even get started.

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Brenda Rothert is an Illinois native who was a print journalist for nine years. She made the jump from fact to fiction in 2013 and never looked back. From new adult to steamy contemporary romance, Brenda creates fresh characters in every story she tells. She’s a lover of Diet Coke, chocolate, lazy weekends and happily ever afters.

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