I Promise You, an all-new swoony sports romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is coming October 12th, and we have the hot, hot, hot cover!
Dillon McQueen: Babe. I promise. You want me. Serena Jensen: Um, who are you?
There’s a legend at Waylon University: the first girl you kiss freshman year at the bonfire party is the one you’ll never forget. She’ll crawl under your skin and never leave. She’ll spark a passion so fierce you’ll burn the world down to possess her.
You might even put a ring on it.
As in all things with fate, timing is everything. That kiss can go horribly wrong. She might run in the opposite direction. And boy, did Serena run.
Dillon is Waylon’s hotshot quarterback with something to prove. All he wants is to graduate and make it to the NFL. What he doesn’t need is to finally meet the mystery girl he kissed at the bonfire freshman year. Isn’t it enough that she’s haunted his dreams for more than a thousand nights?
Fate laughs in his face when he runs into the quirky girl at the Piggly Wiggly. Surrounded by his entourage, he’s got all the Oreos in his cart; she gets revenge by buying every six-pack of his favorite beer.
Obviously, that legend is a curse. She’s not his type and hates him. Worst of all, how can she not remember him when she left a Serena-shaped hole in his heart for the past three years?
So why can’t he stop trying to win her?
Will this quarterback score the girl or make the biggest fumble of his life?
Wall Street Journal, New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills is best known for her angsty new adult romances and romantic comedies.
Eight of her eleven novels have placed in the Amazon Top 10 Best-seller List: Dirty English #1; Fake Fiancée and I Dare You #2; I Bet You, Filthy English, and Very Bad Things #6; Boyfriend Bargain #8; The Last Guy, her collaboration with Tia Louise, #4.
A former high school English teacher, she adores all things Pride and Prejudice, and of course, Mr. Darcy is her ultimate hero.
She’s addicted to frothy coffee beverages, cheesy magnets, and any book featuring unicorns and sword-wielding females. Feel free to stalk her online.
A special thanks to Social Butterfly Promotions and Leigh Shen for a chance to read this book early.
I was really excited when LJ Shen announced a brand new standalone a few months back. According to her, it’s a small town romance (no billionaire this time) and the story is rather different than her previously published books. So naturally, I was intrigued and ofcourse secretly tried to guess the title of the book lol. Now that I have finally finished reading it, in one go mind you, I can say with absolute confidence that readers are going to go gaga over West Camden St. Claire. If you are fan of contemporary college romance, then you are in for a treat. ‘Playing with Fire’ is, without a doubt, one of LJ Shen’s most engaging standalones I have ever read.
❝ When you played with fire, eventually, you get burned. ❞
This book started on a gloomy note. The first time we meet a sixteen year old Grace, she was having a tough time after the fire accident which pretty much ended her life as she knew it. She went from being an aspiring actress to a social pariah almost overnight. In a parallel context, we get the first glimpse of a seventeen year old West, who for some reason, wants to end his life. Fast forward five years and one chapter, both Grace and West are now at the Sheridan University and they grew up to be totally different people, belonging to different social hierarchy. Once confident and popular Grace ‘Texas’ Shaw (or ‘Tostie’), is merely a shell of her former self. She now hides in the background (behind copious amount of make up/ball caps/insecurities) and hates to draw attention to her face. Despite being obviously talented, her aspiration to act on stage is long dead at this point too. She has exactly one friend, zero social life and an eccentric grandma who may or may not be sick. The girl doesn’t seem to catch a break!
❝ What were we? A couple? Friends with benefits? A gorgeous, obnoxious, colossal mistake? ❞
On the other hand, nothing says ‘attention’ quiet like West Camden St. Claire, the underground fighter and hot headed bully of Sheridan who attracts girls and troubles like moth to a flame. In sort, he is Grace’s worst nightmare. The last person she wants to be seen with much less work with; more so after their not-so-cute meet. It was not love at first sight. Infact, it was the exact opposite. More like immense dislike at first sight! But he was desperate for a job and her food truck was hiring. So inspite of their less than stellar first impressions, Grace and West decides to act like mature adults and become reluctant co-workers lol.
❝ I want to spend time with you. Ideally horizontally. Horizontally, huh? Vertically too. How are your oral skills? ❞
Fortunately, their relationship inproved after West helped Grace during a personal crisis and she was finally forced to acknowledge that may be there is more to ‘Westie’ than just an average bad boy. So despite being polar opposites, both West and Grace soon realised that, for whatever reason, they click together. And as the story progressed, their relationship progressed too. They went from hating each other to friends to something more. Much much more. And I loved witnessing every second of their beautiful journey!
❝ The worst day of your life gave me the best version of you. ❞
My review in short:
I don’t usually check out the blurb or anything before diving into LJ Shen’s stories. I don’t need to. If she wrote it then I am definitely going to read it, period. I know I am in for a good time anyway. Shen has a way with words and that is clearly evident in her passionate way of telling a story. And she did an incredible job with her latest release. ‘Playing with Fire’ is a college romance with an important message that our scars DO NOT define us. I started reading it as soon as I got my reader’s copy and I couldn’t put it down! I finished it in one sitting.The plot was very engaging and though Grace’s accident made me sad, West’s story simply broke my heart! I just didn’t see it coming and I teared up quite a few times into it.The writing is seamless, the characters are very well developed and the banter between Grace and West is entertaining af. Despite my urge to shake some sense into West, more often than not, I think this book is almost perfect (well if you ignore some of the unnecessary drama).Trust me, you don’t want to miss out on the scorching hot chemistry between Westie and his beloved ‘Texas’. If you are a fan of enemies to friends to lovers college romance like me, then this book is a perfect choice.
❝ At the end of the day, we are all just phoenixes, rising from our own ashes, taking flight to an unknown destination, our wingtips forged by flames. ❞
P.S. Now available on all major platforms.
Clear off a top spot on your Best of 2020 list. Playing with Fire is coming in HOT!” –Harloe Rae, USA Today bestselling author
Playing With Fire, an all-new intense and all consuming small town standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen is available now!
A broken boy on the path to destruction. A scarred girl without direction. A love story carved in secrets, inked with pain and sealed with a lie.
Grace Shaw and West St. Claire are arctic opposites. She is the strange girl from the food truck. He is the mysterious underground fighter who stormed into her sleepy Texan college town on his motorcycle one day, and has been wreaking havoc since. She is invisible to the world. He is the town’s beloved bad boy. She is a reject. He is trouble. When West thrusts himself into Grace’s quiet life, she scrambles to figure out if he is her happily-ever-after or tragic ending. But the harder she pushes him away, the more he pulls her out of her shell. Grace doesn’t know much about anything beyond her town’s limits, but she does know this: She is falling in love with the hottest guy in Sheridan U. And when you play with fire—you ought to get burned.
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
L.J. Shen is a USA Today, Washington Post and Amazon #1 best-selling author of contemporary, New Adult and YA romance. Her books have been sold to twenty different countries.
She lives in California with her husband, son, cat and eccentric fashion choices, and enjoys good wine, bad reality TV shows and catching sun rays with her lazy cat.
How beautiful is this cover for Carrie Aarons’ next release?! Love at First Fight releases on September 18, and it’s an enemies-to-lovers romance that features an alpha trying not to fall for his best friend’s girlfriend! If you love a steamy, hate-to-love romance, then this one is definitely for you!
This summer was supposed to be spent lounging on the beach, madly in love with my boyfriend.
Until he decided to move to Singapore, and break up with me an hour before his plane left. Now I’m stuck in a Hamptons house share with six of his closest pals, including his best friend … who despises me.
Since the moment Smith Redfield laid eyes on me, he’s hated my guts. I’m serious, I think the raven-haired restaurateur gets physically sick just being in my presence. And he’s never been shy about hiding that fact.
There was the time he cackled when I landed face first in a pile of Manhattan trash bags. Or the night I tried to throw my ex-boyfriend a surprise party, and Smith had strippers crash the bash. Or maybe it was New Year’s Eve, when he got in my face and called me a sheltered goody two-shoes who wouldn’t know passion if it smacked me in the lips.
He’s rooming right next door for the summer months, and I don’t think more animosity could exist than in the hallway of our vacation rental. As if I wasn’t already sporting a bruised ego and broken heart from the way his best friend left me.
But the more midnight run-ins we have, the more I can’t help but think about the way his mouth would feel against mine. With each heavy-eyed glance over the dinner table, I’m starting to wonder if the damaged alpha male doesn’t harbor more than just loathing towards me. After all, they say hate is the closest emotion to love. And with the way we’re skating that thin line, it’s bound to burn this whole house down.
Add it to your TBR: bit.ly/LAFFtbr Cover designed by Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations.
About Carrie:
Author of romance novels such as The Tenth Girl and Privileged, Carrie Aarons writes books that are just as swoon-worthy as they are sarcastic. A former journalist, she prefers the love stories of her imagination, and the athleisure dress code, much better.
When she isn’t writing, Carrie is busy binging reality TV, having a love/hate relationship with cardio, and trying not to burn dinner. She’s a Jersey girl living in Texas with her husband, daughter, son and Great Dane/Lab rescue.
He was the sun, and she was the moon. A love like theirs was never destined to last.
Chasing the Moon, an all-new emotional second chance romance from author S.M. Soto is coming October 28th, and we have the gorgeous cover!
A modern-day retelling of the Greek Myth of Selene and Endymion.
He was the sun, and she was the moon. A love like theirs was never destined to last.
Selene Drake has always been the girl that blends into the background. The wallflower. Quiet. Unnoticed. Sweet as can be. It never bothered her, she preferred slinking into the shadows.
When she first laid eyes on Endymion Black, she fell irrevocably in love with him. The bad boy. Cold. Distant. Handsome as ever.
For years, she pined after the unattainable boy who had somehow burrowed his way into her heart.
Until everything changed.
One unforgettable night bridled with passion and forbidden lust destroyed her naïve heart and reshaped her innocent soul. It sent her fleeing from the only town she’d ever truly known.
Five years later, Selene is back in Dunsmuir and the boy she spent years loving in silence, has now turned into a man. A man with his sights set on her. Somehow, the tables have turned, and this time around, he’s the one doing the chasing, determined to claim her heart as his. Only, he doesn’t realize, she has a secret of her own.
One with the potential to change their lives forever.
Chasing the Moon is a full-length standalone romance.
Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Photographer: Regina Wamba
About S.M. Soto:
S.M. Soto was born and raised in Northern, California where she currently resides with her son. Her love for reading began when she was a young girl, and has only continued to grow into adulthood. S.M. lives for reading books in the romance genre and writing novels with relatable characters. She refers to herself as a bit of a romance junkie. S.M. loves to connect with readers and eat copious of donuts that will surely lead to her demise.
A huge thank you to Social Butterfly promotions and Colleen Hoover for a chance to read and review this book early.
❝ The nicest thing my mother has ever done for me is die. ❞
This story started on a depressing note. It revolves around nineteen year old Beyah (pronounced: Bay-uh), who dreams of leaving her shitty life behind and move on to bigger and better things i.e. college in a different state; on full scholarship, miles away from her addict mother and her absentee father who, though he sends child support, never cared enough to check on her.
❝ Fuck this summer. Fuck these people. Fuck the whole current state of my life.❞
But unfortunately, her best laid plans crashed and burned pretty fast as tragedy strikes and soon she finds herself plucked from her trailer park life in Kentucky to a beautiful summer place in Texas, complete with a rich stepmother, an adorable stepsister, Sara and the cute rich boy nextdoor, Samson, who has a few secrets of his own. Just like that, she goes from having no one to having a brand new family and a place to call home almost overnight.
❝ He’s a vault and I really wish I had a key. Or some explosives.❞
Though they got off on the wrong foot, Samson and Beyah became fast friends. Maybe because they found a kindred spirit in each other. Despite the obvious difference between their social status, Beyah and Samson were alike in more ways than one. ‘Their bond was too intense to ignore’ But neither of them were looking for anything serious. So both agreed to a short summer fling with an expiry date, keeping things casual between them. And the story progresses from there, centered around Beyah and Samson and the beautiful summer they spend in Bolivar Peninsula that changed their life. Maybe forever.
❝ I know what love is, because I spent my whole life knowing what it isn’t.❞
My favorite part of the story is Beyah. There is no doubt that the girl had a tough life. Tougher than one can imagine and she’s only nineteen. Her life story broke my heart. ‘Heart Bones’ is Beyah’s journey to healing. Told exclusively from her point of view, it’s all about the summer she spends with her father’s family and her relationship with Samson. It’s about love, family, heartbreak and healing.
❝ Damaged people recognize other damaged people. It’s like a club you don’t want a membership to.❞
I don’t really know how to review this book further without giving away the plot. I have been reading a lot of good books lately but ‘Heart Bones’ is special. It definitely made an impact. I cried, I laughed and I swooned. Maybe broke a few heart bones of my own. CoHo is definitely one of the best ‘temporary’ romance authors out there and ‘Heart Bones’ is the prove of that. Beyah and Samson’s story hit me with a shit ton of emotions. It gave me all the feels! Their effortless chemistry is hard to find, even in story books. And I am not going to forget about them any time soon.
❝ Hearts don’t have bones. They can’t actually break.❞
What if the only way of knowing you grew a heart bone is by feeling the agony caused by the break?
‘Heart Bones’ is definitely one of the best books I read this year and if you are a fan of angsty young adult romance then go for it. CoHo never disappoints.
❝ He tastes like saltwater and my blood feels like the sea, raging and crashing through my veins.❞
Happy reading! xoxo.
P.S. A friendly reminder; keep some tissues handy. You’ll thank me later lol.
“No one delivers an emotional read like Colleen Hoover.” – Anna Todd, New York Times bestselling author
Heart Bones, the beautifully written, emotional romance that will rock you to your core by #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover is available now!
From #1 New York Times bestselling author of Verity and Regretting You.
Beyah comes from a life of poverty and neglect; Samson from a family of wealth.
When the two find themselves spending the summer as neighbors, they soon realize money is one of the few things they don’t have in common.
Their bond is too intense to ignore, but with only ten weeks separating them from the start of their new lives on opposite ends of the country, Beyah and Samson decide to stay in the shallow end of a summer fling.
What they don’t realize is that a rip current is coming and it’s about to drag both their hearts out to sea.
Colleen Hoover is the #1 New York Times and International bestselling author of thirteen novels and multiple novellas. She lives in Texas with her husband and their three boys. She is the founder of The Bookworm Box, a non-profit book subscription service and bookstore in Sulphur Springs, Texas.
Playing With Fire, an all-new emotional and raw small town standalone romance from USA Today bestselling author L.J. Shen is coming September 15th and we have the stunning cover!
A broken boy on the path to destruction. A scarred girl without direction. A love story carved in secrets, inked with pain and sealed with a lie.
Grace Shaw and West St. Claire are arctic opposites. She is the strange girl from the food truck. He is the mysterious underground fighter who stormed into her sleepy Texan college town on his motorcycle one day, and has been wreaking havoc since. She is invisible to the world. He is the town’s beloved bad boy. She is a reject. He is trouble. When West thrusts himself into Grace’s quiet life, she scrambles to figure out if he is her happily-ever-after or tragic ending. But the harder she pushes him away, the more he pulls her out of her shell. Grace doesn’t know much about anything beyond her town’s limits, but she does know this: She is falling in love with the hottest guy in Sheridan U. And when you play with fire—you ought to get burned.
For more information, join L.J. Shen’s reader group: http://bit.ly/2lTnonw Stay up to date on all release news. Follow L.J. Shen on Instagram:https://bit.ly/LJShenIG
Cover designer: Letitia Hasser at RBA Designs
About L.J. Shen:
L.J. Shen is a USA Today, Washington Post and Amazon #1 best-selling author of contemporary, New Adult and YA romance. Her books have been sold to nineteen different countries.
She lives in California with her husband, son, cat and eccentric fashion choices, and enjoys good wine, bad reality TV shows and catching sun rays with her lazy cat.
Some girls are born perfect. They have perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect skin. They have perfect grades and high ambitions. They’re popular and admired. They’re adored and revered. And loved. I’m not one of them. That’s the first thing to know about me: I’m not perfect. I have flaws. Many, many flaws. I don’t have perfect grades. I don’t have high ambitions. I don’t get why the sum of all the angles of a triangle has to be one hundred and eighty or the world will collapse. Or why when we talk about the heart, we reduce it to a muscular organ with four chambers that’s sole purpose is to pump blood through the body. I’m far from being popular and I’ve got something called witchy eyes. Or at least, I call them that. They’re golden in color and they arch up at the corners, making them look sort of catty, witchy. Which is super poetic because I’ve got a witchy name too. Salem. Salem Salinger, and the second thing to know about me is that along with witchy eyes and a witchy name, I’ve got a witchy heart as well. Meaning, my heart has secrets. In fact, my heart is swollen with secrets. Many, many secrets like my many, many flaws. And that is why I did what I did. The thing that landed me here. The little, inconsequential crime that got me sent to St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers – an all-girls reform school. Only they don’t call it a reform school anymore. It’s not the 50s or the 60s. These days, schools like this are called therapeutic school. Because they believe in therapy. And restoration and reformation. They believe in teaching us to be productive members of society. Who’s us? We’re the bad and hopeless girls. We’re the girls who break rules and love rebellion. We don’t like school or classes. So we keep getting into trouble with our classmates and teachers. Sometimes we get expelled multiple times from multiple schools until our parents or guardians are forced to take drastic actions. Some of us break the law too, which technically I did. I mean, there were a couple of cops involved. They didn’t handcuff me or anything but I had to ride in their squad car and go to the police station. But there were no charges pressed. Instead, I was sent to St. Mary’s. I’ve been here almost a week and I’m already behind. In assignments, I mean. God, the assignments and homework. They’re very strict about that here. So I really shouldn’t be falling asleep in class if I want to catch up. But it’s Friday afternoon and it’s trigonometry and it’s not as if I’m magically going to understand everything to do with triangles and tangents by paying attention in the last fifteen minutes of the class anyway. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is paying attention even though everyone is quiet and facing the blackboard. There are probably fifteen other girls besides me in this small beige-painted concrete and cement classroom where I sit in the back. We’re all slumped over the hard, wooden desks, with our chins in our hands. We all have tight braids either flowing down our backs or draped over our shoulders, tied at the end with a mustard-colored ribbon. We all wear a starched white blouse and a mustard-yellow skirt that touches the tops of our knees. Except I have a black chunky sweater on because I’m a sunshine girl and the inside of St. Mary’s feels like winter. We pair our uniforms with knee-length white socks and polished black Mary Janes. Our notebooks are lying open in front of us and our butts are planted in chairs as hard and wooden as the desks. From time to time, we squirm and adjust ourselves in our seats because I’m guessing the wood is digging into our asses. At least, it’s digging into mine. So it should be really hard to fall asleep, right? Or daydream. But I’m doing both until I hear a sound. Psst… It’s coming from my right. Slowly I turn to find my neighbor, over in the adjacent row, trying to get my attention. It’s a girl I’ve seen before. Around campus, in the cafeteria and in the dorm building where every student who goes to St. Mary’s stays, but I’ve never talked to her. Because no one talks to me here. I’ve actually tried very hard to get them to talk to me or even smile at me or just wave their hand at me by waving mine but I haven’t been successful. I can’t even get my roommate, Elanor, to say hi to me. So I don’t know what this girl, my neighbor with blonde hair, wants from me. But as soon as our eyes meet, she motions her head toward something. Biting my lip, I look at what she’s pointing at. It’s a piece of paper. It’s sitting at the edge of my desk, folded over twice to make a little square. For a second, I can’t comprehend what a piece of paper is doing on my desk. Confused, I look up from it and focus back on the girl. She widens her eyes at me and gestures at it with her chin again. What the… Oh. Oh! I finally get it. It’s a note. She’s passing me a note and she wants me to open it. Got it. Immediately, I go to grab it but stop, my hand suspended in midair. I look up and see that the teacher, Mrs. Miller, is busy solving a weird-looking equation on the board. So I’m safe there. But why is this girl writing me a note? Doesn’t she know that I’m the most hated girl at St. Mary’s right now? I’m the principal’s ward. Yeah, the principal of St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers, Leah Carlisle, is my guardian. She’s been my guardian for eight years now, ever since I was ten. And somehow because of that I’m enemy number one around campus. So far in the week that I’ve been here, people have glared at me, tried to trip me in the cafeteria, accidentally-on-purpose bumped into me in the dorm hallways and locked me in the bathroom. From what I can gather, the students think I’m a spy, and if they talk to me and reveal their secrets, I might go to Leah and rat them out. And teachers think that since I’m her ward, I’ll be given special treatment. So it’s natural for me to debate whether or not I should open the note. But then I hear my neighbor’s whispered words. “Open it.” I swivel my gaze at her and she says those words again, or rather mouths them, open it, before giving me a big smile. A big and brilliant smile. It’s the smile that does it. Someone is smiling at me. A girl at St. Mary’s – my new reform/therapeutic school – is smiling at me and I didn’t even have to do anything to get that smile. So fuck it. My hand resumes its journey and practically snatches the note off the desk. I bring it down to my lap and open it. It’s boring, huh? I get it. Miller is a snooze-fest. But don’t let her catch you falling asleep. She loves to take away student privileges. Ah, the infamous privileges. This whole reform/therapeutic school system runs on a little thing called student privileges, which you earn by following the rules. So here’s the whole concept: when we’re sent to St. Mary’s, they take away everything that we’ve so far taken for granted in our old, corrupt and rebellious lives. First of all, there is no personal technology allowed. Meaning no cell phones or laptops or iPads or whatever. Everything that we use has to be school-issued and it is heavily monitored. If you want to use the internet, you go to the computer lab and use the computer there, for an allotted number of hours. If you want to talk to someone on the phone, you do it using the school phone, again only during an allotted time period. Second, if you want to go off campus, you need a permission slip from a teacher and you can only go out during an allotted time. Now if you’re good – your grades are okay and you’ve been doing your homework and participating in activities – you get the privilege of using the computer longer than everyone else or you can go out twice a week and stay out longer and so on. And who keeps track of things like this? The guidance counselor assigned to you that you meet with every week. But all of this is useless to me. Because I just started here and so I have a four-week ban on any privileges. Meaning I can’t go out no matter what. My computer usage is one hour per day and I can’t make any outgoing calls; I can only receive calls on Saturdays. If at the end of the four-week period, my guidance counselor, who just happens to be Mrs. Miller, thinks I’m fit to be rewarded for my rule-following and hard-working ways, I might get to go out or use the computer for more than an hour. So I write a little note of my own: Thanks for the heads up. But since I’m on the four-week grace period, I basically have no privileges. I hand over the note to the girl and she grabs it like I’m handing her a lifeline. I guess she’s as bored as me. Quickly, she opens it and dives into writing a reply on a freshly torn piece of paper, which she hands me back a few minutes later: Oh right! Sorry! I completely forgot that you’re a newb. But Miller has been known to deduct privileges in advance. She’s a biatch. Pardon my language. I’m Calliope, by the way. But everyone calls me Callie. I’m sorry about all the stuff some of the girls are putting you through. I do gotta ask though: Is Principal Carlisle really your guardian? And are you really not a spy? I have to smile at her note. There’s no malice there. Not after the way I feel her looking at me with so much eagerness. So I reply, Gotcha. No sleeping in Miller’s class. She’s actually my assigned guidance counselor too. So not looking forward to that meeting next week. Yes, Principal Carlisle is really my guardian. My mom and her were childhood friends. She died when I was ten so me and my older sister were sent to live with her. And no, I’m really not a spy. I’m just like the rest of you guys. Also, you’re the first person to smile at me in this place. So thanks again. I pass the note back to her and like before, she jumps at it and devours it quickly. As soon as she’s done, she writes back. You’re welcome! I would’ve said hi sooner but I had to be a little careful since I so don’t wanna get on the bad side of Principal Carlisle. Yeah, I don’t blame her. Leah can be a little intimidating with all her rules and punishments and lectures and ambitions. I mean, what else do you expect from the principal of a reform school? I, myself, am totally afraid of her and I lived with her for eight years. But I guess she’s only intimidating to girls like us, who break the rules and are perpetually bad. I write down my reply, feeling light for the first time in almost seven days. It’s okay. Principal Carlisle scares me too. A second later, her reply comes. Right?! She is scary. Like, she never smiles. By the way, if you sit with us in the cafeteria, we’ll make sure no one will bother you. I’m about to ask who ‘us’ is, when the bell rings and the day ends thankfully. Everyone dives down for their backpacks like they’re diving in to save their lives, which could very well be true because God, this class was killing me. I turn to Callie, the first girl to talk to me at St. Mary’s, and say, “Thanks for having my back.” She smiles brightly. “Of course. I’ve been there. Miller is so fucking boring.” “Did I hear someone dissing Miller?” This comes from a girl with black hair and glasses. She’s got a husky voice and a mischievous face, and she’s wiggling her eyebrows at us. Callie rolls her eyes. “Poe here has a great aversion to Miller.” “Duh.” Poe zips up her backpack and skips over to us. “She’s evil. And my guidance counselor. So I’m super lucky.” She turns to me then, curious. “I’m Poe, by the way, as Callie said. Poe Austen Blyton. My mom was an Austen fan. And a Poe fan. And that.” She points to a third girl. “Is Bronwyn. Bronwyn Littleton. Isn’t that the greatest name ever?” The girl she’s pointing at has the longest hair that I’ve ever seen. Like Rapunzel. Her light brown braid goes down to her ass but when she looks at Poe and shakes her head in a very indulgent and patient manner, I completely forget about the length of her hair and marvel over her eyes. Because her eyes are silver and so ethereal looking. She slings her backpack over her shoulder and looks at me. “But people call me Wyn. Because I hate Bronwyn, which Poe already knows.” She swings her gaze to Poe. “Doesn’t she?” Poe sticks her tongue out at her. “It’s okay,” I say, chuckling at their antics. “I hate my name too. Salem. It sounds witchy.” Wyn smiles at me gently. “I like it.” Second smile of the day. I can’t believe it. This is turning out to be the best day ever. “Can I ask you a question?” Poe jumps in but before I can answer either way, she continues, “Why would Principal Carlisle send her own ward to St. Mary’s? I mean, she could very easily discipline you back at home, right?” Well, I guess I spoke too quickly. All my earlier lightness evaporates as Poe and Callie and Wyn look at me with curious gazes. It’s a genuine question. Very, very genuine. So I don’t blame them for asking me that. In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t come up before. But then, these girls are the only ones who have talked to me at St. Mary’s. It’s just that I’m a little conscious about my crime. A lot conscious, okay? It’s not as if I do what I did everyday. But I had to do it. I had to. “Because I stole some money from Leah – Uh, Principal Carlisle – and sort of ran away,” I say. “Or at least, I tried to. Before they caught me.” The cops. I was at the bus station, ready to board and get out of this town once and for all when they caught up to me and brought me back. I mean, I still don’t understand how it all happened. I was so careful while getting out of the house. It wasn’t the first time I was sneaking out in the middle of the night anyway. I’m an expert, for God’s sake. But somehow, Leah woke up and when she found me missing, along with my sunshine-yellow bike and one hundred and sixty-seven dollars from her wallet, she called the cops. And since she’d had enough of my bad girl ways and she didn’t want me to ruin my life any further, she sent me here. To become good. “I’ve been doing you and your mother a disservice. I should’ve been more strict with you and sent you here sooner. If I had, then none of this would be happening. So you’re going to St. Mary’s.” That’s what Leah told me. I could’ve refused. I’m eighteen now; turned eighteen a few weeks ago. I could’ve just walked out but I didn’t have any money. Whatever money I had, I used that to buy the bus ticket and the rest, Leah confiscated. So here I am. “But I was going to return the money,” I continue. “I was going to get out of town and get a job and once I had enough savings, I was going to give the money back to her.” Which is all true. I actually have a part-time job, or had one. At a restaurant in town where I worked as a waitress. But I’d just blown my savings and I really needed the cash. And I really, really needed to run away. “Why were you running away?” Poe asks, her eyes wide. Damn it. I never should’ve let out that information. That I was running away. My heart swells and pounds inside my rib cage. My witchy heart with a thousand secrets. “Uh, I… was…” I try to think of an acceptable lie. Maybe I can tell them what I told Leah, that I hated this town and my old school and everything else so I was just hauling ass. She bought it. I bet they’d buy it too. But Wyn gives me an out. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” Callie smiles. “Yeah, we all have our secrets.” “Yeah.” Poe nods, putting her hands up. “Sorry if I came on a little too strong there. It’s one of my weaknesses. I talk too much. And I always ask too many questions.” Just like that the tension breaks and I can breathe easily. Thank God. I just met them. These are the first people to actually be friendly and talk to me in here. I don’t want them to hate me too. And they will if I tell them why I was running away. If I tell them my secret. “Okay,” Callie chirps. “Let’s go to dinner. And you can definitely sit with us, if you want.” Suddenly, Poe bursts into a series of gasps and actions. She looks at the clock hanging over the blackboard. “Oh my God, we have to go. Now. Forget dinner for a sec. I’ve got something to show you guys.” “Show us what?” Callie asks. “Hello? What else? Eye candy.” Poe wiggles her eyebrows again. “Oh my God. Yes! I needed something nice the first week back to this hellhole.” Callie grins. “I know. Apparently, there’s a press conference that we should see. This girl from junior year tipped me off. We gotta go.” I’m confused. “What eye candy?” At my question, Poe’s eyes go wide again as she takes me in. Not only that, she gasps too before lunging for my arm. “Oh my God. This is perfect.” Then she turns to Callie and Wyn. “Isn’t this perfect? She knows him!” I have absolutely no idea what they’re talking about. But Callie catches on and whips her eyes to me. “Yes, she does,” she breathes out to Poe before turning to me. “You do!” “I do what?” I ask, now more confused than ever. Wyn is shaking her head again in that indulgent manner of hers that I’ve seen before. “Leave her alone, guys. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.” So Poe explains it to me. “You know him. You know the Principal’s hot son. Our eye candy.” All right. I still don’t know what they’re talking about. Principal’s hot son. Who the fuck… Principal’s hot son. Him. Oh my God. The boy with sun-struck hair and summer blue eyes. He’s the principal’s hot son now, isn’t he? He is. Because I’m stupidly at St. Mary’s and Leah Carlisle, along with being my guardian, is now my principal as well. “You lived with him,” Poe says. “You lived with a soccer superstar.” “Yes. The Blond Arrow,” Callie tags on. The Blond Arrow. That’s his soccer nickname. That’s what they call him, his fans, the critics, the sports people, whatever. They gave it to him when he debuted last season. When he free-kicked the ball from the center of the field and it went soaring through the air, past all the players and hit the net, right in the center. Holy fuck, they’re talking about Arrow. My Arrow. Before I can say anything though, Poe and Callie are dragging me out of the classroom with Wyn tailing behind and discussing how I can tell them everything there is to know about Arrow Carlisle, the celebrity athlete, because I lived with him before he went pro. I’m not listening to them though. I mean, I am, here and there but I’m mostly in… shock. Which is stupid because I should’ve thought of this. I should’ve known. That he’d come up in conversations or that I’d hear his name in passing. It used to happen a lot, back in my old high school, normal high school. He’s pretty famous around these parts. He’s The Blond Arrow, the pro soccer player. Of course he’s famous. And of course he’d be famous here as well, at a girl’s reform/therapeutic school. His mom is the principal, isn’t she? So yeah, I should’ve expected this. But somehow I didn’t. And now I’m here. In the third-floor bathroom. Because Poe wants to show us something. A press conference, she said. The reason we’re in the third-floor bathroom is because it’s always out of order so no one goes here. No one who’s up to any good anyway and we fit the bill perfectly. Because Poe has a cell phone in her hand, which everyone knows is super duper forbidden, here at St. Mary’s. If we get caught, we will probably lose all our privileges and God only knows what else. But Poe is hitting all the keys on her phone like she’s done it a thousand times before and Callie and Wyn don’t seem to care and I’m in such shock that I don’t care either. Especially not when the video Poe was trying to get loads and I’m staring directly at him. His dirty blond, sun-struck hair is the first thing I see. Maybe because it’s shining under what looks to be a thousand overhead lights. Not to mention the flash of a thousand cameras
that are all pointed toward him. He’s sitting on a podium with a bunch of other people whom I’ve seen many times before. I haven’t met them personally, of course, but they always hover around him on events like this. It’s an MLS press conference. There’s that yellow and blue shiny logo of his team, LA Galaxy, fluttering behind him on a giant screen with a black and white soccer ball, and there’s his coach with the shock of white hair, sitting beside him at the podium. For a second, I get distracted by the moving strip at the bottom of the screen, displaying different headlines. Emerging star of the LA Galaxy injured during practice; LA Galaxy to replace their midfielder superstar with a rookie; The Blond Arrow, hailed by critics and fans as the new David Beckham, to leave the season unfinished… There’s more of it, more headlines, the same thing said in a variety of ways. The same thing being: he is injured. And that he can’t play for the rest of the season. But I don’t understand… I don’t get it. He was fine a week ago. “So what does it mean for the team and the rest of the season?” I’m still reeling from the headlines on the bottom when someone asks this question. Someone off screen, and of all people sitting at the long table with black mics in front of them, it’s directed at him. I know because he hears it. He hears it and his jaw that I’ve always likened to a sharp and sculpted blade moves back and forth. It’s very subtle and I don’t even think that anyone notices, not in the commotion of events like this, but I do. I do because I’m attuned to him. And because it’s such an… atypical reaction for him. Arrow never moves his jaw back and forth. He never gets annoyed enough to do that. He’s patient. He’s patient and determined and level-headed. I’ve heard this about him a number of times, at the interviews, at the press conferences. His calm is legendary. “What it means – obviously – is that I won’t be playing on the team for the rest of the season.” That increases the roar around him and the team coach leans forward and says, “What he means is that it’s very unfortunate and no one could’ve seen it coming. But Rodriguez is an excellent wide midfielder and as hard as it will be to fill the shoes he’s had to step into, we’ll be making every effort to help him. As we will help Carlisle as much as we can with his recovery.” His blue eyes flash, then. They go from a summery blue to stormy and wintry. Again, it’s so atypical that I notice it right away. I not only notice it but I absorb the shock of it. Because Jesus Christ, a week ago, when I was packing my bags to leave for St. Mary’s, Leah and I, we watched his game together. The soccer season is on and they were playing New York City FC. And okay, so they lost that game and as far as I know Arrow, it must have hurt him because he’s very competitive. But he’s lost games before and he always comes back swinging. He appeared fine at the press conference after. A little grim but fine. Also, he called the house to talk to Leah later that night – he always calls after every game of his – and well, I listened in – I always do. The conversation was slightly critical on Leah’s part because they’d lost but nothing out of the ordinary. No signs whatsoever that there was something wrong with him. I was actually mourning the fact that I wouldn’t get to watch him play all that much anymore because of the stupid TV rules at St. Mary’s. So I really don’t get it. What the fuck happened? “Can you tell us how long you expect the recovery to take?” Another question fired off screen and to him but this time, he isn’t even paying attention to them. He has his head dipped down and he’s looking at his fists on the table. He’s practically glaring at them and God, I have a very bad feeling about this. Very bad. What’s happening? Why’s he acting this way, when he’s always been so professional and polite? When the coach realizes that his player won’t answer the question – he looks kinda shocked by Arrow’s defiance too – he takes the reins. “It’s a very typical meniscus tear. I’m glad it happened during practice and we were able to get help quickly. It’s minor right now but we all know that knee injuries have a way of creeping up on you, especially if you play contact sports. So we want to take every precaution that we can so it doesn’t turn into something major.” I swallow when Arrow still won’t look up. His posture has gone even tighter, as if he’s repelling his coach’s words. As if he’s repelling everything that’s going on around him. “Will you be staying in LA for the duration of your recovery?” For some reason, it feels like the pause after this question is longer and heavier. Or maybe it’s my own anticipation of what the answer is. My own anticipation to hear his voice, his rich, deep voice. A voice that I dream about. Leaning forward, he looks into one of the cameras and it feels like he’s staring directly at me. “No. It’s been kindly pointed out to me that I need to disappear for a while, go off the radar. So I can heal. Recover from the injury that frankly no one saw coming. And well, I agree. So I’ll be going east…” He trails off before his words become curt and clipped. “Back to my hometown, St. Mary’s.” What? No, no, no. He didn’t say St. Mary’s, did he? He didn’t say he’s coming back. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t have. Because he can’t come back. I don’t want him to come back. I don’t. I want him to stay far, far away. He was the reason I was running away that night. He was the reason I stole that money and I was going to go somewhere before they caught me and stuck me inside a cage. So he can’t come back when he was the one I was running away from. My Arrow, the guy I’m in love with. My sister’s boyfriend.
NOTE: This book is a standalone and DOES NOT contain cheating
MY DARLING ARROW Saffron A. Kent Release Date: September 17
Darling Arrow, I shouldn’t be writing this.
It’s not as if I’m ever going to send you this letter, and there are a million reasons why. First of all, I was sent to this reform school as a punishment for a petty, totally inconsequential crime. Not to ogle the principal’s hot son around the campus.
Second of all, you’re a giant jerk. You’re arrogant and moody and so cold. Sometimes I think I shouldn’t even like you. But strangely your coldness sets me on fire. The way your athletic body moves on the soccer field, and the way your powerful thighs sprawl across that motorcycle of yours, make me go inappropriately breathless. But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that you, Arrow Carlisle, are not only the principal’s hot son. You also happen to be the love of my sister’s life.
And I really shouldn’t be thinking about my sister’s boyfriend, or rather fiancé (I overheard a conversation about the ring that I shouldn’t have). Now if I can only stop writing you these meaningless letters that I’ll never send and you’ll never read… Never yours, Salem
NOTE: This book is a standalone and DOES NOT contain cheating
Saffron A. Kent is a Top 100 Amazon Bestselling author of Contemporary and New Adult romance. More often than not, her love stories are edgy, forbidden and passionate. Her work has been featured in Huffington Post, New York Daily News and USA Today’s Happy Ever After. She lives in New York City with her nerdy and supportive husband, and a million and one books.
I am really, really excited about Kristy Marie’s upcoming book about reality TV and enemies turned lovers romance! ‘Subscriber Wars’ is coming out next month and I am already in love with it lol. Check out the awesome blurb below.
These videos contain scripted lies and staged kisses but the hate is very real.
Subscriber Wars, a sexy, new adult rom-com from bestselling author Kristy Marie, is coming soon!
Blurb:
I can explain. Kind of. I realize the wig and makeup don’t help my case, but that’s not the point. The point is, Sebastian came at me first. He’s the one who started this war, but I’m the one who finished it.
I’m not even sorry about it. Fine. Maybe I am. A little.
That’s the only explanation as to why I just agreed to play his fake girlfriend so he—we—can win a million dollars in the hottest reality show contest ever filmed on campus.
Don’t get it wrong though, Sebastian and I may look like we love each other, but everyone knows reality TV is nothing but scripted lies and staged kisses.
A self-proclaimed reader enthusiast, Kristy started her writing journey back in 2009, reading and writing when her daughter was napping. Establishing her place in Corporate America (because something had to pay the bills), writing became her dirty, late-night secret.
After eight long years, she released her debut novel, Commander. It was a long road, but she can honestly say, the road less traveled had the most beautiful sights.
The only thing Kristy Marie loves as much as reading and writing is sports! Especially those that require muscles and a nice ass. Her favorite is, and always will be, baseball. She’s such a fan, that she even married her small town’s high school’s centerfielder where they still live with their three badass kids.
COVER REVEAL Title: Overcast Series: B723 #1 Author: Hazel Grace Genre: Dark Romance/Suspense Cover Design: Black Widow Designs Release Date: September 1, 2020
BLURB
The monster hiding in the shadows is real. He doesn’t have horns or sharp claws, but a deep scowl, piercing hazel eyes, and a bunker deep in the woods equipped for his fantasies to play out like a horror movie. And it becomes my reality in seconds. My captor is out for retribution, and he thinks I’m to blame. He believes I’m the evil that shrouded his world and tipped it upside down. Hate isn’t enough of a word for what he feels for me, and while he terrifies me, I mask my pain as best as I can. A pointless feat because he feels my discomfort, revels in it. And yet in the midst of his hell, I can’t seem to miss the way those eyes burn with hunger. The kind that involves him devouring me with his tongue and teeth. Emric is the beast in my darkest nightmares. Until he realized that his reality is a blurred screen of the truth—mine. GOODREADSLINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54497937-overcast
Hazel Grace is an avid music lover and hardcore Oakland Raiders fan from the mitten state of Michigan. Her writing goals are “what the f*ck” storylines while enjoying her readers private messaging her to cuss her out.
