Asset File 4-7: Elizabeth Watkins
That’s the only information Jayson Masters has about his newest assignment. To learn more, he’ll need to infiltrate her life in the most intimate of ways without getting too close.
Lizzie’s new neighbor is loud, seductive, and ridiculously attractive. And he keeps flirting with her. With the recent death of a close friend hanging over her head, Lizzie tentatively agrees to a new friendship in hopes of ignoring her broken heart.
A web of lies isn’t sustainable forever.
And sometimes love isn’t enough.
An immortal war is brewing, and she’s the key…
About the Author
Lexi C. Foss is a writer lost in the IT world. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and their furry children. When not writing, she’s busy crossing items off her travel bucket list. Many of the places she’s visited can be seen in her writing, including the mythical world of Hydria which is based on Hydra in the Greek islands. She’s quirky, consumes way too much coffee, and loves to swim.
Genre: Contemporary Romance Release Date: April 24, 2018
A billionaire troublemaker. A straight-laced lawyer. And a scandal that could ruin them both…
Lover, thy name is Trouble. I live for the illicit. Dark corners. Cherry red smiles. Drinks the color of temptation. All that crashes to a halt when my brother becomes President. I’m sentenced to four years of normalcy, and all my money can’t buy me early release. I’m not expecting scandal from the fresh, young lawyer serving me coffee. Scandal comes anyway. She has eyes the color of justice and a body shaped like lust. Our only chance at political survival? A fake relationship. A fake proposal. It’s the performance of a lifetime. But beneath the surface, my need for her is all too real...
Amelia Wilde knows what it’s like to be lovestruck, and she writes it into all of her books. Authoress of over sixteen spellbinding romances, she lives in the northern climes of Michigan. It’s very cold, but her sexy husband keeps her very warm.
And a revolving door across the college suite I somehow ended up in because my first name is Shawn.
They don't discriminate. Girls. Guys. Grandmas. Plants (okay maybe not plants) all walks of life stroll in stressed to the brim, and leave so satisfied I'm wondering what sort of talents lie behind that door.
My roommate calls them the pleasure ponies.
But the rest of the college campus?
They just call them the new face of Wingmen Inc. A paid for relationship service that makes big promises.
Breakup? They'll glue you back together again.
Depressed? They have the magic pill.
Lonely? Just spend a few minutes while they rub you down and you'll forget all about it.
And broken hearts? Well, that's their specialty. They'll fix you.
For a price…
I swore I wouldn't get involved.
But apparently they like a challenge, and a girl who doesn't put up with their BS is basically like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
They. All. Charged.
But one holds my attention above the rest.
Knox Turner looks like a Viking — and getting pillaged is starting to look more appealing by the day. Though he's hiding something — all of them are. And the closer I get. The more I realize that some things are left better in the past.
You've read reverse harem books before — but you've never read one like this. It's not what you think, or is it? Dive in and find out…
Knox, Leo, Finn, and Slater are waiting, and they aren't patient men.
Welcome to the new face of Wingmen Inc — You're welcome.
I would regret it later - my heart knew it - but I was a caretaker by nature, so when I grabbed his hand and gave it a tug toward the bed, I was surprised he followed. Even more surprised that when he joined me in his bed, he didn't try to pull me into his embrace; he didn't even touch me, just laid there and stared up at the ceiling like the monsters were going to come back. "You need to sleep," I whispered, turning on my side and facing him. "Or you'll be even grumpier in the morning." He smiled at that. "Am I really that grumpy?" "Scale of one to ten?" I shrugged. "You flirt with an eight or nine on a good day." "Shit." He took a deep breath. "For the record, I'm sorry." "For?" "Being myself." He didn't offer any more explanation. Instead, he turned away from me, tucked a pillow under his head, and slept. We were strangers. And still, when I woke up with the bed empty… I realized. It was the first time I'd slept through the night since transferring, and it would happen to occur in my enemy's bed.
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. And make sure to check out her website.
A new romantic comedy about love, letting go, and little green men from USA Today Bestselling author Daisy Prescott. My father was abducted by aliens.
Or so I believed for the last eighteen years. After my mother's death, I moved to Roswell, capital of all things alien. I’m going to find out the truth and nothing will stop me . . . except Boone Santos. Compared to the intergalactic tinfoil hat brigade, he's a god amongst mere mortals. Too handsome for his own good (and mine), with a grumpy arrogance, and the most beautiful smile ever—he smashes my plan to pieces like a UFO crashing into the desert.
I need a tinfoil hat for my heart.
Do I believe in aliens? I’m not sure.
What do I believe? I’m not going to fall in love with Boone. Definitely not . . .
Daisy Prescott is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romantic comedies, including Modern Love Stories, the Wingmen series, and the Love with Altitude series. She also dabbles in magical realism in her Bewitched serial.
Daisy currently lives in a real life Stars Hollow in the Boston suburbs with her husband, their rescue dog Mr. Fox Mulder, and an indeterminate number of imaginary house goats in pajamas. When not writing, she can be found in the garden or kitchen, lost in a good book, or on social media, usually talking about books and sloths.
All new romance from New York Times Bestselling
Author Claudia Connor…
How many times can you be unlucky in love before you
decide it’s not luck, it’s you?
With her ex-groom's words, I’m in love with someone
else, still ringing in her ears, Clare Franklin flies off alone to her
would-be honeymoon. Forced to accept not everyone gets that happily ever after
she’s always dreamed of, she’s done with men. Until she gets tangled up, quite
literally, with one sexy veterinarian.
The only thing Dr Deacon Montgomery wants is to share his
surgical expertise and get back to his two year old twin daughters. But, the
connection he feels with Clare highlights just how alone he really is and makes
him wonder if he can be more than doctor and daddy. Long talks and moonlit walks under the rustle of palms has
Clare thinking maybe she gave up on love too soon. Until one phone call from
home changes everything.
His wide, warm palm
grazed her lower back as they wove their way through the tables to the exit.
They crossed over the water garden in silence, slowing as they reached a fork
in the path.
“Which way?” Deacon
asked. “I’ll walk you back.”
“That’s sweet, but
you really don’t have to. It’s a five-star resort, not downtown Los Angeles.”
walking. “True. But you know, I took you to dinner and all.”
She arched a brow
at him. “It’s also an all-inclusive resort. Maybe I took you.”
He flashed her that
slightly lopsided grin that hit her right in the chest. She conceded to the
walk, and together, they followed the brick path. The resort was dark, but
lights along the sidewalk lit the path and shined up the skinny gray trunks of
the swaying palms. It was quiet, and when they didn’t pass even one other
person, she was glad he was walking her back.
She slowed as they
came to the breezeway leading to her building and pointed up the steps to the
second floor. “I’m up there, so…”
Deacon started up
the steps. “I’ll walk you to the door. I’m funny like that.”
She probably should
have said no, insisted that she could make it to her door on her own. Because
of course she could. But she didn’t insist, just followed enormously glad she’d
removed the HONEYMOON banner from her door.
They reached her
room, and she turned to face him. Just the two of them now, up here, alone at
her door. She felt a slight buzzing in her head that had nothing to do with
“Well, Clare of the
here and now.”
She rolled her eyes
at the reminder of her earlier word-vomit ramble. “It was nice to meet you.”
She stuck out her hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.
“It was nice to
meet you, too.”
It didn’t feel like
a simple handshake as he wrapped his fingers around hers. “I had fun tonight.
You turned what might have been a horrible night into something surprisingly
“Thank you for
catching me and saving my top and for dinner and talking and…” And maybe she
A frog gave a low
croak, and another answered, but she figured the pounding of her heart was
The buzzing in her
head grew louder, and she felt dizzy from looking into his eyes and staring at
his lips because she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel those smooth,
firm lips on hers, to taste him and feel his arms around her.I'm losing my
he said. “I’ve been wanting to say that all night.” He lifted his hand and
lightly brushed his thumb over her cheek.
Then he leaned in,
and she moved. Just…moved. In and up, her fingers twisting in the front of his
shirt. She was just falling into the taste of him, just getting that warm,
tingling flood of a first kiss when her brain fully registered that he’d been
leaning in to kiss her cheek.
“I’m sorry.” She
swallowed hard, felt a stinging heat flooding into her cheeks, and wished desperately
to disappear. Deacon was staring at her in complete confusion. That made two of
them. “I’m… really sorry.”
She spun to her
door. A stiff wind sang through the open-air hallway, slapping her hair across
her eyes. How she got her key in the lock, she had no idea. Mumbling one more
apology over her shoulder, she opened the door and closed it behind her. She
stood, heart pounding in mortification, her lips buzzing.
glasses and fruit and cheese tray had been cleared. The bed had been turned
back, and the damn swans were back, nestled in the center of the bed and
kissing right on their terrycloth lips.
Claudia Connor is the author of the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling series, The McKinney Brothers. Her debut novel, WORTH THE FALL, hit the New York Times Bestsellers list in 2014 and received numerous Best Contemporary Romance of 2014 accolades.
Claudia attended Auburn University, where she received her undergraduate and master’s degrees in early childhood education. After teaching kindergarten and first grade for ten years, she retired to be a full-time mom to her three daughters. Always a lover of books, and always one to have stories playing in her mind, she decided to try her hand at writing. It took seven years to finish her first novel and a new love was born.
Claudia lives near Memphis, Tennessee with her husband, three daughters, two cats, and a singer-songwriter Siberian Husky. She continues to write warm, heartfelt, and emotional romances with a bit of steam, a lot of family and always a happily ever after.
This is a story of when I screwed three different customers of my travel agency.
Brady, the bull rider. Mitch, the billionaire. And John, a Navy SEAL. I do like my men. And in my line of work, I meet a lot of them.
Unfortunately, this time I screwed more than the men. I also screwed up their luxury cruise. I accidentally booked all three of them in the same cabin. A cabin already occupied by Adolfo, who runs a royal casino in Monte Carlo. And when I get on the yacht to straighten it out… I screw them all.
This is the story of my reverse harem. My accidental harem.
You know what's even better than marrying a billionaire? Having his baby.
We're ready. We've studied and planned, read all the birth and labor books, researched parenting classes, consulted our schedules, and it's time.
And by we I mean me.
Declan's just ready for the "have lots of sex" part. More than ready.
But there's just one problem: my husband and his brother have this little obsession with competition.
And by little, I mean stupid.
We're not just about to try to bring a new human being into the world.
We have to do it better, Faster, Stronger.
McCormick men don't just have babies.
They engage in competitive billionaire Babythons.
I thought the hardest part about getting pregnant would be dealing with my grandchild-crazed mother, who will go nuts shopping for a billionaire's baby.
Between conception issues, my mother's desire to talk to the baby through a hoo-haw cam, a childbirth class led by a drill sergeant and a father-in-law determined to sign the kid up for prep school before Declan even pulls out, my pregnancy has turned out to be one ordeal after the other.
But it's nothing -- nothing -- compared to the actual birth.
Shopping for a Billionaire's Baby is the newest book in Julia Kent's New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series and is a 400+ page full-length novel.
“Just because other people can’t get their act together as parents doesn’t mean we can’t,” I explain. “There is no process that can’t be project managed into a well-oiled machine, babies included.”
Andrew snorts. “You really believe that.”
“A baby is like a disruptive new technology. But our first deliverable is still eight months to a year away. That leaves us plenty of time to update our practices and diversify into new areas. Find the best people, incentivize them, and keep them in their swim lanes.”
I’m getting major raised eyebrows here.
“Optimization protocols, testing, fine tuning, and putting together the right team is all it takes. Drill down to the essentials, find people who are the absolute best at what we need, and that’s it–we build a life based on optimal outcomes.”
“You sound like you’re making a robotic dog, Dec. Not a human.”
“This baby will have a hands-on father. Plenty of love. And with a mother like Shannon, how could we go wrong?” Mother. Calling Shannon a mother does something to my gut. A tug, hard and emotional, destabilizes me for a second.
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.