Title: Doctor Taylor Author: Sharon Woods Release: May 15, 2021 Genre: Medical Romance Cover Design: Sarah from Enchanting Romance Designs
Alice I finally graduated with my nursing degree and now it’s time to celebrate. Out with my friends, I come across the man of my dreams. Tall, dark, and oh so sexy. When I see him with another woman, I move on, after all it’s just a night out and it’s time for me to focus on my career anyway. Until we end up at the same hospital. I had no idea he was a doctor, and now he’s become the forbidden fruit I see every day.
Mike At this age, I’ve had it with relationships. Call me sour, but nobody is faithful, and I’d rather have a taste and move on. Then, I run into the beauty from the club. I was attracted to her immediately, but didn’t make a move. Now, after spending some time with her, I might be convinced to change my tune about being a one-woman man. She’s smart, funny, and driven. Everything I’ve ever wanted. But she’s a lot younger than me, can she be trusted? We’re locked into a contract at the hospital together, only one way to find out.
Emma Hawkins is sure her life is set. She’s finally leaving Mason Creek behind, the small town she’s lived in her entire life.
That is until her former high school crush, Aiden Faulkner, strides back into town. The hot new Deputy Sheriff still gives her butterflies and is in a perfect position to help as she deals with the mystery surrounding tragedy that has struck her life.
When she asks for his help, she knows it’s a lot for him to keep her request a secret. Only, the time they spend together doesn’t go unnoticed. Rumors threaten everything, including their growing connection.
Undeniable attraction has never been their problem.
Timing is.
With her not so perfect fiancé in the rearview mirror, it becomes impossible for Aiden and her to remain just friends.
They say love is patient.
And Aiden’s been patiently waiting to give Emma that one perfect night.
Broken hearts never heal quite right. Especially when they’ve been ripped to pieces, torn to shreds. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him. She’d promised she wouldn’t. Stella had known the rules when this began.
I will never love you.
He lied, because his world had been nothing but pain and hatred. Because he was a powerful man and love left you weak and powerless. He had loved her. The dark, ugly twisted parts of him had loved her. His love was torture. It was addictive. It was oxygen.
But it wasn’t enough.
His life has been war. But he’d never fought for anyone. Until her.
He knew that he was cursing her. Sentencing her to a life that she didn’t deserve. That would ruin her. But he had no other choice. He’d fought to be a good man, to let her live without him. But he couldn’t live without her. No more than he could inhale without oxygen.
He would fight for her. To get her back. Till death.
He wasn’t a good man.
He was the villain.
One who needed her. That would stop at nothing to get her back.
He would prove to her that even his wretched villainous heart could love her.
Anne Malcom has been an avid reader since before she can remember, her mother responsible for her book addiction. It started with magical journeys into the world of Hogwarts and Middle Earth, then as she grew up her reading tastes grew with her. Her obsession with books and romance novels in particular gave Anne the opportunity to find another passion, writing. Finding writing about alpha males and happily ever afters more fun than reading about them, Anne is not about to stop any time soon.
Before I even met Donovan Decker, I knew his shoe size.
You see, I’d gone away for a few days, and in my haste to get out of the airport, I’d grabbed the wrong suitcase.
After checking out the expensive footwear and tailored clothes, I dialed the number on the luggage tag hoping maybe Mister Big Spender might have my bag.
A deep, velvety voice answered, and as luck would have it, he had my suitcase, too.
Donovan and I met at a coffee shop to do the exchange.
Turned out, it wasn’t just his voice that was sexy. The man holding my luggage was absolutely gorgeous, and we had an immediate spark.
He got me to admit that I’d snooped in his bag and then convinced me to make it up to him by letting him buy me coffee.
Coffee led to dinner, dinner led to dessert, and dessert led to spending an entire weekend together. Donovan wasn’t just handsome with a panty-dropping voice. He was also funny, smart, and surprisingly down to earth for a man who wore seven-hundred-dollar shoes.
Did I mention he also did my laundry while I slept?
Definitely too good to be true.
So what did I do to repay him for his kindness?
I waited until he was in the shower, then ghosted him.
My life was too complicated for such a great guy.
In the months that passed, I thought about Donovan often. But New York City had eight-million people, so what were the chances I’d run into him?
Then again, what were the chances I’d run into him a year later…when I’d just started dating his boss?
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AUTHOR BIO
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over a hundred Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty-five 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.
Taggart Family Values, compilation of previously published novellas from the Masters and Mercenaries’ world and a brand new novella from New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake, is available now!
From Ian and Charlotte’s first meeting in Paris to a look into the future, Taggart Family Values chronicles Masters and Mercenaries’ favorite family through a series of short stories and novellas. Includes one brand new short story and one new novella. Lexi hopes readers will have a blast connecting with Ian and Charlotte and all their little monsters!
Taggart Family Values includes the novellas Paradise City, Sweet Child o’ Mine, Homecoming and Countdown. It also includes the short stories Adam Tells All, Make Lemonade, Rough Night and Stuck at the Office.
Some of the stories were previously published in newsletters and cookbooks.
Grab your copy today!
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About Lexi Blake
New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband and three kids. Since starting her publishing journey in 2010, she’s sold over three million copies of her books. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places and believes in happy endings.
Talk Hockey to Me, an all-new swoon-worthy, hockey romance from USA Today bestselling author Kelly Jamieson is available now!
They can resist their attraction…until their hearts rocket them across the blue line.
Hunter
Timing. Hockey careers are made or broken on it, and mine has taken an exceptionally broken road. I’m not a star. I’m a grinder, I work hard, and I’m finally at the point I can put the past behind me and get the fat, long-term contract I deserve.
But my agent—the man who stuck by me through every crash and burn—has had a heart attack. I need another agent now, or my one chance for the good money will slip through my fingers. Kate’s a rookie, but she loves the game like I do, so I pick up the phone. And I wonder if she remembers that one night in Cancun as vividly as I do.
Kate
Hockey. All my life I’ve lived it, breathed it, played it. Now it’s my business. As an agent, I’m tied to my phone at all hours, but nothing prepared me to hear Hunter’s voice. The last time I saw him—three years ago—there was a lot of bare skin and horny hormones involved.
I’ve handled it all in my short career—sexism, harassment, being broke, being laughed at. Resisting the attraction between us should be easy. Until it isn’t. And Hunter’s past shakes his confidence hard enough that he could make the worst decision at the worst possible time…
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Excerpt
We walk into the bright and sunny apartment. Being a corner unit, it has lots of windows, and the décor is light and airy, all pale gray and white. “Cute place,” I say.
“Thanks. It’s tiny but I love the neighborhood.”
“It looks like you.”
Kate gives me a skeptical look.
“Organized. Tidy. Modern.”
She gives me a long, impassive look. “That’s me, huh? Tidy?”
Shit. There I go again. I called her tough that night and I think she was insulted. Now I’ve done it again.
“Well, not right now,” I admit, eyeing her sweaty hair and face.
That probably didn’t make it better.
“You’re not wrong.” She sighs and sets the bear head on the small island. “Okay, help me get this off. I really need to pee now.”
We wrestle her out of the costume, and I try not to notice that I’m touching her. Under the getup, she’s wearing a thin tank top and a pair of tiny, tight black shorts. I swallow hard.
One hand grazes her bare arm. Then her thigh. I hear her sharp intake of breath and my gaze lands on her nipples, now hard and poking against her bra and tank top. Christ.
I kneel to help her step out of the costume. She sets a hand on my shoulder for balance and lifts one long, sleek leg. I want to run my hands up and down her leg so badly my palms tingle. My dick is pushing aggressively against the fly of my jeans.
I look up at her. She’s watching me, her lips parted, her eyes pupils dilated. A flush stains her cheeks and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth.
Daringly, I set my hands on her calf and she pulls the other foot free of the fur garment. I slide my hands around the back of her firmly muscled calves, and then up to the backs of her knees. She shivers. “Hunter…”
She’s not stopping me. I glide my hands up the backs of her thighs, then over the little shorts to cup her ass. I straighten my legs and stand, pulling her closer. Bending my head, we’re nearly nose to nose. Her eyelashes flutter. Our mouths are so close… “Kate.”
She pulls back, her eyes full of regret. “Hunter. We can’t do this.”
I close my eyes at the stab of disappointment. “Right. Right. Sorry.”
“Also, I still have to go to the bathroom.” She darts away from me and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
I lean against her kitchen island, sweating, breathing hard. My heart is galloping. Jesus. I fucked up. Why did I touch her like that? What the fuck is wrong with me?
About Kelly Jamieson
Kelly Jamieson is a USA Today bestselling author of over fifty romance novels and novellas. She writes the kind of books she loves to read–sexy romance with heat, humor and emotion. Her writing has been described as “emotionally complex”, “sweet and satisfying” and “blisteringly sexy”. She likes coffee (black), wine (mostly white) and shoes (high!). She also loves watching hockey. She is the author of the popular Heller Brothers Hockey series, Aces Hockey series, and the Rule of Three trilogy.
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Wild North, an all-new standalone romance with a broody and swoon-worthy mountain man from New York Times bestselling author JB Salsbury, is coming May 18th and we have the first look!
Jordan
I’m warm.
The temperature is the first thing I recognize as I wake up in a strange place. I blink open my eyes, grateful to see more clearly as I stare at the horizontal logs of a ceiling. Heat blazes from my left side. I cautiously turn my head to see a fire through the soot-stained glass of a woodstove. Everything is quiet except for the distant sound of wind and rain. Heavy weight presses down on me from my toes to my throat, and the musky scent of wet animal hangs heavy in the air. I wiggle my fingers on my stomach and realize I’m wearing nothing but my long underwear. I tilt my chin to see layers of weighted blankets covering me—no, not blankets. Animal hides.
I work my mouth and clear my dry throat. My lips are rough and cracked as I lick them with a parched tongue. I try to think back. To remember how I ended up here. Did I manage to crawl here on my own? Is this heaven? Hell?
I try to swivel my head slowly, taking in as much of the space as I can with only the muted light from the fire to expose my surroundings. Everything outside the fire’s glow is black. I need to sit up and get to my feet. As I take a deep breath to gather my strength, my ribcage roars in protest.
“Ow, fuck.” A moan works its way up my throat as I lie helplessly on my back. Tears spring to my eyes. Shallowly breathing, I lift my head then try to wedge my elbow underneath. I cry out in pain and drop my head back.
“Don’t move.” The deep, booming command comes from somewhere in the dark.
“Who are you?” My voice is weak and shaky and doesn’t sound like my own. A rush of energy fuels my muscles, and I attempt to move again. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I roll to my side toward the heat source.
“I wouldn’t do that,” the masculine voice says in a tone so deep it’s almost hard to hear.
Sweat breaks on my brow. My teeth clench until my jaw aches. I breathe through my nose, waiting for the pain to subside. That’s when I see a large mason jar filled with what looks like water sitting within arm’s reach. I scramble for it and slosh some over the rim while sloppily bringing it to my mouth. With greedy gulps, I down the glass, and water streams down my neck to my chest because of the odd angle. With a blissful sigh, I ease to my back with relief.
“Can I have more water, please?” My voice already sounds better, stronger.
He doesn’t answer.
“Hello?” I stare blindly at the roof of what I’ve gathered to be a log cabin. “Did you bring me here?”
Silence.
“Where am I?”
He’s so quiet in the dark, I wonder if he’s disappeared.
“Do you have a phone? A car? I need a hospital. I slipped and fell. I remember tumbling and—” I gingerly reach up and touch my shoulder, moving my fingers over it, and press on the tender muscles. “I think I landed in a ditch or something. I blacked out. I don’t remember how long…” Was I lying there, dying, for days? “What day is it?”
My questions are met with more silence.
“Are you there—”
The sound of wood scraping on wood echoes around me, and I feel the air in the room shift. We must be in a small space because I can hear every step he takes. Wood creaks under his weight, and in the dim light of the fire, I see the faint outline of a large man, the yellow light glinting off his tan, bare torso as he climbs a ladder and disappears into more darkness.
“Hello?”
The rustling of blankets is my only response.
“Why won’t you answer me—”
“Go to sleep.” Another growled, irritated command.
A flutter of panic works its way to my chest. Who is this guy? And what does he plan to do with me?
The question sends a ripple of fear through me. I’m completely helpless at the mercy of what could be a deranged outsider living like a wild animal in the mountains.
Not exactly the kind of thoughts that usher in sleep.
Alexander
A woman.
A woman in my fucking space. And the only person I have to blame for this royal shitstorm is myself.
But what should I have done? Left her out there to die? And she would surely have died. She was nearly hypothermic when I found her, and that was before the temperature dropped and the storm rolled in.
Goddammit, how unlucky can one son of a bitch be?
My answer lies in the form of a woman injured and obnoxiously curious on my cabin floor.
After a sleepless night, I feel her eyes on me before my foot hits the last rung of the ladder from my sleeping platform. My grip on the wood tightens, and I rein in my frustration at her intrusion. When I turn around, I’m surprised to see her sitting up, her back to the wall, still mostly covered in deer hides. Her fiery gray eyes are unflinching as I scowl back at her.
Yeah, I can ask questions, too. Like, how the hell is she sitting up with what I’m guessing is at least one broken rib? And how utterly stupid does a person have to be to wonder the Adirondack Mountains alone and untrained in survival? And furthermore, why the hell is she looking at me like I’m the one who pushed her off that ridge rather than the man who saved her life?
I rip my gaze from hers, not because she wins, but because my guess is she’ll be glaring at me all day, and I have more important shit to do than play the blinking game with this unwelcome pain in the ass.
After tossing more wood into the fire, I pull back the rustic shutters on the window to check the weather. “Shit,” I mumble to myself as I become aware of the grim truth.
An ice storm holds me prisoner inside my own cabin with a woman who irritates the fuck out of me by simply breathing. And it’s my fault she’s still breathing.
I go about making my breakfast, uncomfortably aware of her watching my every move. The kettle on the woodstove is already steaming, and I pull out my single bowl as well as a mason jar and add instant oatmeal. I pull out my instant coffee and grind my molars when I consider having to share my limited resources with my unwanted guest.
“Hello,” she says behind me. “Can you at least look at me when I’m talking to you?”
My hands freeze on the mason jar. An old memory nips at my nerves, causing an internal storm to simmer with a threat to rage. Abandoning breakfast, I grab my coat, slip on my boots, and throw open the front door, sending a gust of freezing ice inside.
“Where are you go—”
Her words are silenced by the door clanging behind me and the roar of the wind in my ears. I push through the waves of stinging ice to the outhouse, where I close myself inside, grateful for the slice of privacy.
If only the weather were clear, I’d have a shot at getting her out of here and back to wherever she came from. But neither of us is going anywhere until the storm moves through.
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Synopsis
To me, he was Grizzly.
To the world, I would learn, he’s someone else completely.
I should have died on that mountain.
But he rescued me.
More animal than man, he’s cold, distant, and fiercely territorial. He seems to hate me for simply breathing, and yet, he brought me back to life.
After my return to the city, I can’t stop thinking about him. His rough hands, intense glare, and the way he cared for me as if I meant something to him.
He tells me he’s dangerous. That I’m not safe around him. I would eventually understand why he warned me away. But by then it’s too late. My heart is his.
About JB Salsbury
JB Salsbury, New York Times Best Selling author of The Fighting Series, lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day lost in a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles as stories claw away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.
Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to write her first novel.
Since 2013 she has published six bestselling novels in The Fighting Series and won a RONE Award.
She’s tired of looking over her shoulder. Relief washes over her when the man they believe is responsible for stalking her is finally behind bars. When her vulnerability weakens, she finds herself in the back of a van. She is scheduled to perform in a dance show, but her abductor won’t have her preforming for anyone but him.
When Jordan discovers the true identity of the man behind it all she is completely blown away.
Grant
He’s a nervous wreck over Jordan being late to a performance he knows means the world to her. Despite her stalker being in jail his gut tells him something’s wrong. When Grant goes looking for her she’s nowhere to be found. His heart is broken and now he has to face her parents with the news.
Time is ticking as Grant races to hunt down the man who has gracefully abducted the woman he loves.
Vivian enjoyed reading as a child and found her passion for it again in 2011 when E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey was released. Her love of reading was re-ignited and she continued reading other books in the same genre. Married to her own real life hero, Vivian met her love in Massachusetts where she was born and raised. She and her family now reside in sunny Florida and when she’s not writing she enjoys playing soccer, basketball, and football with her son.
“Beautiful, emotional, and riveting. Catherine Cowles pens a romantic masterpiece that remained in my heart long after the final page was turned.” –K.C. Lynn, bestselling author of the Men of Honor series
Reckless Refuge, an all-new moving and “gorgeously written” standalone from Catherine Cowles, is available now!
There were shadows I was running from.
Ones that haunted and taunted.
Ones that made it so I had no choice but to disappear.
I’d spent years hiding from the world.
My little island haven, the only assurance of safety.
It all changed the moment he showed up at my door.
The hint of pain in his eyes told me that something haunted him, too.
And I couldn’t help but be drawn closer.
But finding the person I needed most came with risks I never expected.
And when our ghosts find us again, neither of us may make it out this time.
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Excerpt
Prologue
Shay
PAST
It burned. Everywhere and nowhere. Slices in my skin that made it feel as if hot lava had been poured into my flesh. I couldn’t count them, had lost track after the tenth. I tried to move, to somehow escape. Only my fingers twitched.
Sounds. Voices. Hovering above me. They were everywhere and yet nowhere. Pinpricks of light, like glimmering stars on the darkest night.
“Miss? Can you hear me?”
I managed a low moan. I only wanted the pain to stop. The agony tearing through my body. I craved a blanket of nothingness. An endless sea where I would cease to exist altogether.
“I’m an EMT. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
“Hurts.” It was the only message I cared about getting across. This woman might have the power to lessen the burn.
A hand slipped into mine, blood sliding down my arm to bind us together, the liquid already growing tacky with the passage of time.
“I know. Just hold on.”
I didn’t want to hold on. I wanted to float away to a world where none of this was real. Where pain didn’t exist—only light and peace and relief.
“Can you tell us who did this to you?”
My eyes fluttered. My cracked lips parted. I could only manage two words.
“My brother.”
About Catherine Cowles
Writer of words. Drinker of Diet Cokes. Lover of all things cute and furry, especially her dog. Catherine has had her nose in a book since the time she could read and finally decided to write down some of her own stories. When she’s not writing she can be found exploring her home state of Oregon, listening to true crime podcasts, or searching for her next book boyfriend.
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The Gravedigger’s Son, an all new must read Charley Davidson novella from New York Times bestselling author Darynda Jones and 1,001 Dark Nights, is available now!
From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Darynda Jones comes a new story in her Charley Davidson series…
The job should have been easy.
Get in. Assess the situation. Get out. But for veteran tracker Quentin Rutherford, things get sticky when the girl he’s loved since puberty shows up, conducting her own investigation into the strange occurrences of the small, New Mexico town. He knew it would be a risk coming back to the area, but he had no idea Amber Kowalski had become a bona fide PI, investigating things that go bump in the night. He shouldn’t be surprised, however. She can see through the dead as clearly as he can. The real question is, can she see through him?
But is anything that’s worth it ever easy?
To say that Amber is shocked to see her childhood crush would be the understatement of her fragile second life. One look at him tells her everything she needs to know. He’s changed. So drastically she barely recognizes him. He is savage now, a hardened—in all the right places—demon hunter, and she is simply the awkward, lovestruck girl he left behind.
But she doesn’t have time to dwell on the past. A supernatural entity has set up shop, and it’s up to them to stop it before it kills again.
While thousands of questions burn inside her, she has to put her concern over him, over what he’s become, aside for now. Because he’s about to learn one, undeniable fact: she’s changed, too.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Grab your copy today exclusively on Amazon!
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Excerpt
“Intruder!” Kyle said from behind him, a day late and a dollar short.
Quentin glared at him, and Kyle stepped back reflexively. Then he refocused his glare on Amber.
“What?” she asked, her hackles rising as hackles are wont to do.
“What are you doing here?” Again, his signs were sharp with irritation.
As Amber sat in utter astonishment—He Who Must Not Be Named was literally the last person on Earth she’d expected to see today—she used the break to take him in.
How much could a guy change in five years?
If Quentin Rutherford was any indication, a hella lot.
She barely recognized him. He’d hardened—in all the right places. His shoulders had widened more than most twenty-seven-year-olds. He’d always been muscular, even when they were kids, but either he’d been hitting the gym, or he’d been magically photoshopped. The hills and valleys that covered his body to exquisite perfection could be seen through the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore, his biceps stretching the seams to their limits. And the jeans, the ones with a few holes here and there, were not a fashion statement so much as a favored pair of work pants.
“Ms. Kowalski?” Kyle said.
Quentin turned to him, and Amber caught a glimpse of two things: the profile of his steely buttocks that had developed as much as the rest of him, and a particularly well-placed rip in the worn jeans that showed part of the indentation in his left ass cheek. The fact that he wasn’t wearing underwear was a bonus. How could anyone she hated so much be so startlingly drop-dead sexy? Life was not fair.
Then she realized something. He’d heard Kyle. Quentin had turned when Kyle spoke, and she wondered if he’d finally gotten a pair of hearing aids. They’d never helped him that much before, so he never wore them, but technology had advanced a lot since then. Maybe they had more powerful aids now that could help him hear.
She snuck a glance but didn’t see any mechanical earpieces. Interesting.
When he turned back to her, she couldn’t get over how much he’d changed. His hair was shorter now and a little darker but still a rich, tawny blond. And he’d either started wearing it spiked, or he had bedhead. Either way, he was even more gorgeous than before. Full mouth. Straight nose. Deep blue eyes like the cobalt on a ceramic bowl.
Damn it.
About Darynda Jones
NYTimes and USA Today Bestselling Author Darynda Jones has won numerous awards for her work, including a prestigious RITA, a Golden Heart, and a Daphne du Maurier, and her books have been translated into 17 languages. As a born storyteller, Darynda grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, and she is ever so grateful for the opportunity to carry on that legacy. She currently has two series with St. Martin’s Press: The Charley Davidson Series and the Darklight Trilogy. She lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys.
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Alice
