Category: Uncategorized
Hot Boy Summer: Charity Anthology is LIVE! Will your heart survive all these hot boys?
Title: Hot Boy Summer: A Charity Anthology
Authors: Alys Fraser, Amie Knight, Ashley Cade, C.M. Radcliff, C.M. Steele, Cary Hart, Christy Pastore, Claire Hastings, Cynthia A. Rodriguez, Elena M. Reyes, Ellie Isaacson, Fabiola Francisco, J.R. Rogue, K Leigh, Kat Savage, Kat Singleton, Kate Bailey, Liz Durano, Lori Worley, Mae Harden, Persephone Autumn, Shaw Hart, S.A. Clayton, Shannon O’Connor, Stephanie Nichole, Trish Anderson, Victoria Ellis, Whitley Cox and Zoey Drake
Genre: Summer Romance
Release Date: June 7, 2022
Toes in the sand. Umbrella cocktails. Shirtless hot boys. One fleeting summer. Will your heart survive? It’s about to heat up in here…Hot Boy Summer: A Charity Anthology is a collection of brand new stories from 29 amazingly talented authors. Each brings to the table their own unique take on the connections we form when we live wildly under the guise of momentary fervor. It’s poolside cocktails with little umbrellas, it’s island vacations, toes in the sand, and the shirtless hot boy making eye contact with you from across the way. Dive in and experience the sizzling passion that erupts in the heat of a fleeting summer.
***HBS is a limited edition anthology collection and 100% of proceeds will be donated to children’s charities.***
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My Cinnamon Bay title ~ Rock the Shores ~ is LIVE!!! Rock star, unrequited, brother’s best friend, wallflower, single dad romance! All the best tropes in one small-town romance.
Title: Rock the Shores
Series: A Cinnamon Bay Romance
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Small Town, Brother’s Best Friend, Single Dad, Rock Star, Summer, Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 10, 2022
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𝙃𝙚’𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣𝙚?A successful musician in an indie rock band, Evan Spencer takes the summer off and returns home to Cinnamon Bay, hoping the R&R will inspire him to write some new songs. He never expected to run into Juliet Clarkson on his first day back in The Bay. The Juliet he remembers was a paint-and-clay-covered kid with braces and frizzy hair. Now she’s a successful potter, and the most compelling woman he’s ever seen.
Juliet Clarkson has been in love with Evan … well, forever. She pined for years over the soulful-voiced best friend of her older brother. Swooned when she heard his guitar. Dreamed of him noticing her one day. And when that day happens, Juliet doesn’t know if she’s still dreaming, or if all her dreams are finally coming true.
But when tragedy strikes close to both their families, Evan is forced to give up his carefree summer in Cinnamon Bay and be the stand-up guy that an orphaned baby needs. Good thing Juliet is there to help. Sparks fly instantly, and soon their romance is real, all-consuming—and people are talking wedding bells.
But when the opportunity of a lifetime comes knocking, offering him and his band the fame they’d always dreamed of, he has to make a decision. Which is the dream come true—the life onstage he and his band know best? Or the unexpected new life he’s building in Cinnamon Bay with Juliet?
“This was an engaging story with characters that were perfect in their imperfections.” -Yvonne Cruz ( 5 Star Goodreads Reviewer)
“5 stars are not enough. WARNING – you are going to need chocolate and Kleenex to read this book. Yes – it is that emotional.” – Nicki The Overflowing Bookcase (5 Star Review)
“Can’t be easy writing in someone else’s world, but Whitley Cox smashes it!!This is a great romance which kept me reading to see if they could make the hard choices faced by many couples. Well worth a read, definitely recommend.” – Sue Hancock (5 Star Goodreads Reviewer)
After the shock wore off and the electricity in her limbs started to settle, along with her rapidly beating heart, she lifted her head to find the rock star of her dreams standing there behind the counter with a very cocky grin on his face.
She rolled her eyes, but her heart rate only picked up again. “You’re on my playlist.”
“I feel like the innuendo is just right there, but I can’t figure out how to spin it.” He stepped closer, his eyes taking in every inch of her. Every clay-covered inch of her.
“I’m too tired to think of one.” She already knew that her hair was coming out of the pencil she held it up with. She’d been tucking and blowing the strands off her face since they weren’t quite long enough to stay tucked behind her ears.
She hadn’t bothered with makeup besides a little mascara, and that was probably falling under her eyes by now since she’d been wearing it for nearly fourteen hours.
“I’ve never seen you in action,” he said softly. “Never seen the artist at work.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, stand back because the clay tends to fly.”
“Was there a scene about this in a movie?” he asked, not taking a step back but rather several steps forward.
She eased her foot on the pedal, and the wheel slowed down and eventually stopped.
“There is.” She jerked her head toward the bathroom. “Ghost with Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze and Whoopi Goldberg.” Her brows pinched. “How do you not—” But she stopped herself when his expression turned coy. “You knew. You were just teasing me.”
His smile made her insides get all tingly. “I might be Oblivious Evan, but I’m not an idiot.”
Her cheeks grew warm, but that didn’t keep her from grinning at him. He was right behind her now. She had to tilt her head up to look at him. His gentle, sexy brown eyes bored right into her, turning her into a puddle.
“My mom came over to watch Hope for a bit,” he said, grabbing a stool and setting it right behind her, sitting down and leaning against her back. The heat of him and the way his legs bracketed hers was enough to make every one of her synapses fire at the same time.
This was literally her ultimate fantasy.
Not only had she watched Ghost more times than any preteen ever should, but she had fantasized about Evan Swayzeing her also probably more than she ever should have. Probably more than was healthy.
Normally, she felt really close to her mom when she was working on the wheel, but she was really hoping her mom had decided to go for a walk along the beach or The Boardwalk right about now.
He was wearing a fitted black T-shirt with a slight V-neck that had made her jaw drop and her mouth pool with saliva when he put it on this morning.
His fingers started at her elbows and slowly moved along her arms until his big hands covered her clay-caked ones. “Show me how to do it,” he said, his breath warm against her ear.
She smiled and pushed her foot down on the pedal just enough for the wheel to start spinning slowly.
Just like she’d imagined it, just like in the movie, his fingers slid through hers, both of them now covered in clay just like hers.
She’d centered the piece. Now it was time to start shaping it.
“What are you making?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“I didn’t have a plan,” she said. “Sometimes I just sit down at the wheel and let the muse find me.”
“Mmmm,” he hummed. “I’m the same way with the guitar.”
“You were working on something when I left …” She guided their hands up a little, then together they stuck two fingers each, his on top of hers, into the center of the clay and began to press out.
The eroticism, the symbolism of what they were doing with their fingers and how it all looked and felt was not lost on her in the least.
Pottery could be extremely erotic. Everything was done with the hands; everything was wet and smooth and involved pressing down with your fingers. She’d certainly found herself aroused on more than one occasion watching a pottery video, even when the view was of just the person’s hands.
She rolled her eyes, but her heart rate only picked up again. “You’re on my playlist.”
“I feel like the innuendo is just right there, but I can’t figure out how to spin it.” He stepped closer, his eyes taking in every inch of her. Every clay-covered inch of her.
“I’m too tired to think of one.” She already knew that her hair was coming out of the pencil she held it up with. She’d been tucking and blowing the strands off her face since they weren’t quite long enough to stay tucked behind her ears.
She hadn’t bothered with makeup besides a little mascara, and that was probably falling under her eyes by now since she’d been wearing it for nearly fourteen hours.
“I’ve never seen you in action,” he said softly. “Never seen the artist at work.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, stand back because the clay tends to fly.”
“Was there a scene about this in a movie?” he asked, not taking a step back but rather several steps forward.
She eased her foot on the pedal, and the wheel slowed down and eventually stopped.
“There is.” She jerked her head toward the bathroom. “Ghost with Demi Moore, Patrick Swayze and Whoopi Goldberg.” Her brows pinched. “How do you not—” But she stopped herself when his expression turned coy. “You knew. You were just teasing me.”
His smile made her insides get all tingly. “I might be Oblivious Evan, but I’m not an idiot.”
Her cheeks grew warm, but that didn’t keep her from grinning at him. He was right behind her now. She had to tilt her head up to look at him. His gentle, sexy brown eyes bored right into her, turning her into a puddle.
“My mom came over to watch Hope for a bit,” he said, grabbing a stool and setting it right behind her, sitting down and leaning against her back. The heat of him and the way his legs bracketed hers was enough to make every one of her synapses fire at the same time.
This was literally her ultimate fantasy.
Not only had she watched Ghost more times than any preteen ever should, but she had fantasized about Evan Swayzeing her also probably more than she ever should have. Probably more than was healthy.
Normally, she felt really close to her mom when she was working on the wheel, but she was really hoping her mom had decided to go for a walk along the beach or The Boardwalk right about now.
He was wearing a fitted black T-shirt with a slight V-neck that had made her jaw drop and her mouth pool with saliva when he put it on this morning.
His fingers started at her elbows and slowly moved along her arms until his big hands covered her clay-caked ones. “Show me how to do it,” he said, his breath warm against her ear.
She smiled and pushed her foot down on the pedal just enough for the wheel to start spinning slowly.
Just like she’d imagined it, just like in the movie, his fingers slid through hers, both of them now covered in clay just like hers.
She’d centered the piece. Now it was time to start shaping it.
“What are you making?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“I didn’t have a plan,” she said. “Sometimes I just sit down at the wheel and let the muse find me.”
“Mmmm,” he hummed. “I’m the same way with the guitar.”
“You were working on something when I left …” She guided their hands up a little, then together they stuck two fingers each, his on top of hers, into the center of the clay and began to press out.
The eroticism, the symbolism of what they were doing with their fingers and how it all looked and felt was not lost on her in the least.
Pottery could be extremely erotic. Everything was done with the hands; everything was wet and smooth and involved pressing down with your fingers. She’d certainly found herself aroused on more than one occasion watching a pottery video, even when the view was of just the person’s hands.
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A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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My super spicy enemies to lovers, best friend’s brother romance is on sale for only 99¢!!!
Title: Love to Hate You
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, best friend’s brother, road trip, forced proximity, romantic comedy, high heat, erotic romance
Release Date: March 12, 2022
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“An irresistible blend of emotion, angst, drama, heat, heart and humor was super enjoyable and made this book a true delight to read.”– Gladys (Goodreads Review)
“Their story is intense and poignant at times but it also has a lighter side to it as well. The authors words draw you into a storyline that holds hard and fast to your heart. Love to Hate You is an exceptional love story.”– Kylee (Goodreads Review)
She needs arm candy, he needs her insurance, but first, they need to drive across the country without killing each other.
Eli
Since the first day of kindergarten, I have hated Alexandra Hartford.
And twenty-something years later that hasn’t changed.
But she has.
She’s still a tomboy with a chip on her shoulder, but now she’s a hot tomboy with a chip on her tattooed shoulder who can fight like a badass.
I’d still rather have a bath with fire ants than spend ten days in a car with her, but she has something I need.
Once the deal is done, we can go our separate ways.
That is … if I want to.
Alex
Eli Evans is my nemesis.
He blames me for his sister’s death, our parents’ divorces, and probably global warming, too.
Why on Earth would I help him?
Because he’s as easy on the eyes as he is the bane of my existence and I need a hot date to a wedding in San Diego.
Can we drive across the country without me leaving him at a truck stop somewhere? I doubt it.
But, I’m willing to try.
Ten days in a car, a wedding, and a marriage of convenience, then I’m done with him forever.
Right?
The sound of the curtain in her changing room being pulled open echoed into my changing room, so I made sure my dick wasn’t visible, then pulled back my own curtain.
Jamie was zipping up Alexandra’s dress—the royal blue bandage strapless one—but she whipped around to face me when Jamie was finished.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, nostrils flared. It was a primal reaction that I would have to be an idiot to miss.
I had a primal reaction of my own—in my pants.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
She glanced away, but the smile that lifted one side of her mouth was dead sexy.
“You’re getting that one,” I said.
She smoothed her hands down the sides, turned on one foot, and glanced at herself in the mirror. “Yeah, I like it, too.”
“You can’t wear those two together, though,” Jamie said. “The blues are too close in color, but not close enough. If you know what I mean?”
Alexandra and I nodded.
“He should just wear a dress shirt and maybe dark gray pants when you wear that dress.”
“I have dark gray pants in the room,” I said, hooking a thumb toward my changing room and a stack of pants on the bench.
I stepped out and away from my room to get a better look at myself in the mirror outside the changing rooms. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a perfect fit,” Jamie said. “Doesn’t even look like you’ll need tailoring.”
Alexandra nodded. “Looks good.” I caught her checking out my ass and grinned, but when she saw me see her, her eyes whipped up to the ceiling as if a flock of geese had just flown overhead.
“You guys got any brown wingtips?” I asked, focusing my gaze on Jamie.
He nodded. “Sure do. Size?”
I glanced back at Alexandra and smiled as I said, “Thirteen.”
I did not miss the flare of her eyes or the way they drifted down to the front of my pants.
“Eyes up here, lady,” I said, catching her gaze back in the mirror.
Startled, she ditched the surprised look and went with a glare before returning to her changing room and dramatically pulling the curtain closed again.
“What is the dynamic of your relationship?” Jamie asked, glancing back and forth between me and the closed changing room curtain.
“She’s my fiancée,” I said chipperly. “But she’d rather not be.”
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A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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The Bastard Heir is LIVE! Enemies to lovers, second chance, small-town, estranged brothers and MORE!
Title: The Bastard Heir
Series: A Winter Harbor Novel #1
Authors: Whitley Cox & Ember Leigh
Genre: Small Town, Second Chance Romance
Release Date: April 9, 2022
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I’m the heir to a secret family fortune, facing down brothers I hate, and trying to get back the one that got away….Eight years ago, she broke me.
Her secrets drove a wedge between me and my brother that can never be fixed.
Now, with my life in shambles, I’m forced by the ludicrous demands of my dead father to face the one woman I ever loved, and the brother I can not stand.
I need the money. But a year is a long sentence to serve in a house with people I hate, and in a town that hates me.
A year is a long time to dodge Harlow Jackson and the eyes and smile that made me fall harder than I’ve ever fallen before.
But it only takes days to show me that what happened eight years ago was a mistake. Now I need every last second of the year ahead to convince her to take a second chance on us.
This is the first book of the Winter Harbor series which features a quirky small town, secrets galore, and three estranged brothers who find the key to healing comes from the women who steal their hearts.
“Fantastic read! What a great second-chance romance! All the spicy scenes coupled with the perfect sibling rivalry! Callum and Harlow burn up these pages and the hea was perfect!”– CK (Amazon Review)
“Another successful read. I just love Whitley Cox writing style, I love everything she’s wrote, real-life stories that never fail to give me the feels.”– Jayne (Amazon Review)
“When two of your favorite authors come together to write a book you know it’s going to be spectacular! That’s what you get when you read Harlow and Callum’s book. They are dynamite together!”– Mrs. Taz (Amazon Review)
“I loved this story and where it took me. There are secret passageways in the house they inherit that brings the brothers closer together. And there is the mystery of what their grandfather and father did to this town. Then there is the history between Callum and Harlow that can be devastating. Their relationship is electric and I loved the emotions that it evoked.”– Donna Smith (Goodreads Review)
He smirked. “So it is a weekly thing. Great. I’ll let my brothers know so we can be sure to tidy up and put our Sunday’s best on, so we can convince you that we’re a happy little family out here.”
“Sunday’s best wouldn’t fool me on that one, sorry. Remember—I do know you.”
“So, is this weekly charade also a requirement of the will? I don’t remember reading about this in the paperwork. Unless you just wanted some excuse to see me?”
I tried not to let my strickenness migrate to my face. I’d been here less than ten minutes, and he’d already called me out. Wonderful.
“You are impossible,” was all I could muster, however weak it sounded.
“At least I’m not transparent,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Do you want to see the upstairs?” The question felt like an olive branch. But one lined with thorns, if I knew Callum.
I hesitated, looking back at the front door. “You have a bunch of orphaned duck eggs under an incubator lamp you want to show me?”
That earned me a devilishly handsome grin over his shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Dammit. I had a hard, if not impossible, time denying this man, particularly when he wore what could be considered lingerie for me. I took a deep breath. “Sure. I can’t stay long, though.”
His footsteps clomped up the stairs. “Why? Got a hot date?”
“Yes, actually,” I lied.
“Well, you better tell him you keep fucking up and making out with the Winters boy,” he intoned. Electricity snapped between us. Of course, he’d gone there. Of course. The man probably believed it was illegal to go a day without reminding me of this sexual connection.
“It was once,” I corrected. “I made out with the Winters boy once, and I think my hot date will be fine,” I said, my heart racing. “I’d never fuck the Winters boy, which is the most important detail.”
Callum appeared unfazed, but of course, all I could see were his broad shoulders straining at the black fabric of his t-shirt. Every inch of my body begged to see the reaction on his face, to see the desire shining through his eyes.
“But oh, you used to fuck him,” he said, his voice grittier. “And you loved it, too. Particularly liked sitting on his face, if I recall.”
My neck went hot at his words. It had been stupid to come here, knowing this would be the outcome. But God, it felt so right, too. This was the forbidden fruit I was dying to taste.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” I cleared my throat. “Nor do I understand why you continue to dredge up ancient history every time we see each other.”
He reached the landing, hands stuffed in his pockets as he turned toward me. His face had hardened into a mask of indifference, at odds with the heat and grit in his voice. I could only imagine it was because he was fighting this losing battle alongside me. And we were both willing victims.
“What else is there to talk about besides ancient history?” The smirk that emerged on his lips was both sexy and infuriating.
“Clearly nothing else, since you can’t move on.”
“But have you moved on?” he asked.
The question rooted me to my spot. I had tried like hell to move on. But every second spent around him reminded me that I hadn’t. Not in the ways that counted.
“I offered to talk about it with you, but you didn’t want to,” I spat. “Does this mean you want to have the conversation now?”
Callum strode down the wide hallway. He jerked his chin toward a smaller door tucked into the wall. “Let me show you something.”
I deflated slightly. Now he was deflecting. “What?”
“The perfect place to air our grievances.”
Well, that was slightly more promising, at least. “What is it? A padded room and a couple of baseball bats?”
“Sunday’s best wouldn’t fool me on that one, sorry. Remember—I do know you.”
“So, is this weekly charade also a requirement of the will? I don’t remember reading about this in the paperwork. Unless you just wanted some excuse to see me?”
I tried not to let my strickenness migrate to my face. I’d been here less than ten minutes, and he’d already called me out. Wonderful.
“You are impossible,” was all I could muster, however weak it sounded.
“At least I’m not transparent,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Do you want to see the upstairs?” The question felt like an olive branch. But one lined with thorns, if I knew Callum.
I hesitated, looking back at the front door. “You have a bunch of orphaned duck eggs under an incubator lamp you want to show me?”
That earned me a devilishly handsome grin over his shoulder. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Dammit. I had a hard, if not impossible, time denying this man, particularly when he wore what could be considered lingerie for me. I took a deep breath. “Sure. I can’t stay long, though.”
His footsteps clomped up the stairs. “Why? Got a hot date?”
“Yes, actually,” I lied.
“Well, you better tell him you keep fucking up and making out with the Winters boy,” he intoned. Electricity snapped between us. Of course, he’d gone there. Of course. The man probably believed it was illegal to go a day without reminding me of this sexual connection.
“It was once,” I corrected. “I made out with the Winters boy once, and I think my hot date will be fine,” I said, my heart racing. “I’d never fuck the Winters boy, which is the most important detail.”
Callum appeared unfazed, but of course, all I could see were his broad shoulders straining at the black fabric of his t-shirt. Every inch of my body begged to see the reaction on his face, to see the desire shining through his eyes.
“But oh, you used to fuck him,” he said, his voice grittier. “And you loved it, too. Particularly liked sitting on his face, if I recall.”
My neck went hot at his words. It had been stupid to come here, knowing this would be the outcome. But God, it felt so right, too. This was the forbidden fruit I was dying to taste.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” I cleared my throat. “Nor do I understand why you continue to dredge up ancient history every time we see each other.”
He reached the landing, hands stuffed in his pockets as he turned toward me. His face had hardened into a mask of indifference, at odds with the heat and grit in his voice. I could only imagine it was because he was fighting this losing battle alongside me. And we were both willing victims.
“What else is there to talk about besides ancient history?” The smirk that emerged on his lips was both sexy and infuriating.
“Clearly nothing else, since you can’t move on.”
“But have you moved on?” he asked.
The question rooted me to my spot. I had tried like hell to move on. But every second spent around him reminded me that I hadn’t. Not in the ways that counted.
“I offered to talk about it with you, but you didn’t want to,” I spat. “Does this mean you want to have the conversation now?”
Callum strode down the wide hallway. He jerked his chin toward a smaller door tucked into the wall. “Let me show you something.”
I deflated slightly. Now he was deflecting. “What?”
“The perfect place to air our grievances.”
Well, that was slightly more promising, at least. “What is it? A padded room and a couple of baseball bats?”
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Do you like booze? Do you like mystery? How about a boozy cozy mystery with a splash of romance?
I received an ARC of this from my dear friend Lucy and I just have to say, it is wildly wonderful and I could not put it down! You’re going to love it!
Jiggered by Gin
Bohemia Bartenders Mysteries, Book 4
A royal pain in the palace …
Mixologist Pepper Revelle and the Bohemia Bartenders land in London for a UK adventure—a gin festival sponsored by dashing distiller Mark Fairman, who wants them to do more than make cocktails. As valuable books mysteriously vanish from his mansion’s luxe library, Mark asks Pepper and her colleague Neil to track down the thief.
But there’s another olive in this martini of mischief. At their frenemy Alastair’s bar, a storied gin palace from Dickens’s time, bizarre break-ins add another mystery to the mix. Pepper and Neil’s sleuthing takes them on a wild ride from the city’s swank watering holes to a fascinating real-life palace as they face deception, devilry and danger.
While Pepper’s tempted by Mark’s extravagant flirting and charmed by his loaner dog, she wonders if hot nerd Neil will stop playing hard to get. But thoughts of love in London seem trivial when murder is poured into the punch. Can they solve multiple mysteries before they’re juiced like a lime in a gin and tonic?
JIGGERED BY GIN is the fourth book in the Bohemia Bartenders Mysteries, funny whodunits with a dash of romance set in a convivial collective of cocktail lovers, eccentrics and mixologists. These quasi-cozy culinary comedies contain a hint of heat, a splash of cursing and shots of laughter, served over hand-carved ice.
FYI:
– Risky Whiskey and Wrecked by Rum (books 1 and 2 in the series) were named among the best cozy mysteries of 2020 by The Book Decoder.
– Risky Whiskey was a Silver Falchion finalist.
– Lucy Lakestone is also the author of the steamy romances of the Bohemia Beach Series (while the mysteries have no sex on the page).
Love to Hate You is LIVE! Enemies to lovers, step-brother, best friend’s brother, marriage of convenience, forced proximity
Title: Love to Hate You
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, best friend’s brother, road trip, forced proximity, romantic comedy, high heat, erotic romance
Release Date: March 12, 2022
She needs arm candy, he needs her insurance, but first, they need to drive across the country without killing each other.
Eli
Since the first day of kindergarten, I have hated Alexandra Hartford.
And twenty-something years later that hasn’t changed.
But she has.
She’s still a tomboy with a chip on her shoulder, but now she’s a hot tomboy with a chip on her tattooed shoulder who can fight like a badass.
I’d still rather have a bath with fire ants than spend ten days in a car with her, but she has something I need.
Once the deal is done, we can go our separate ways.
That is … if I want to.
Alex
Eli Evans is my nemesis.
He blames me for his sister’s death, our parents’ divorces, and probably global warming, too.
Why on Earth would I help him?
Because he’s as easy on the eyes as he is the bane of my existence and I need a hot date to a wedding in San Diego.
Can we drive across the country without me leaving him at a truck stop somewhere? I doubt it.
But, I’m willing to try.
Ten days in a car, a wedding, and a marriage of convenience, then I’m done with him forever.
Right?
“An irresistible blend of emotion, angst, drama, heat, heart and humor was super enjoyable and made this book a true delight to read.”– Gladys (Goodreads Review)
“There was certainly some emotional moments in Love to Hate You and a few times where I was on the edge of my seat whilst reading. This book is a little gem and one I thoroughly enjoyed.”– Erin Lewis (Goodreads Review)
“Their story is intense and poignant at times but it also has a lighter side to it as well. The authors words draw you into a storyline that holds hard and fast to your heart. Love to Hate You is an exceptional love story.”– Kylee (Goodreads Review)
“The sexy times between them are nothing to sneeze at either: hot, steamy, sensual and drool-worthy. This book made me laugh one moment and cry the next.”– Silke (Goodreads Review)
The sound of the curtain in her changing room being pulled open echoed into my changing room, so I made sure my dick wasn’t visible, then pulled back my own curtain.
Jamie was zipping up Alexandra’s dress—the royal blue bandage strapless one—but she whipped around to face me when Jamie was finished.
Her eyes widened, pupils dilated, nostrils flared. It was a primal reaction that I would have to be an idiot to miss.
I had a primal reaction of my own—in my pants.
“Holy fuck,” I breathed.
She glanced away, but the smile that lifted one side of her mouth was dead sexy.
“You’re getting that one,” I said.
She smoothed her hands down the sides, turned on one foot, and glanced at herself in the mirror. “Yeah, I like it, too.”
“You can’t wear those two together, though,” Jamie said. “The blues are too close in color, but not close enough. If you know what I mean?”
Alexandra and I nodded.
“He should just wear a dress shirt and maybe dark gray pants when you wear that dress.”
“I have dark gray pants in the room,” I said, hooking a thumb toward my changing room and a stack of pants on the bench.
I stepped out and away from my room to get a better look at myself in the mirror outside the changing rooms. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a perfect fit,” Jamie said. “Doesn’t even look like you’ll need tailoring.”
Alexandra nodded. “Looks good.” I caught her checking out my ass and grinned, but when she saw me see her, her eyes whipped up to the ceiling as if a flock of geese had just flown overhead.
“You guys got any brown wingtips?” I asked, focusing my gaze on Jamie.
He nodded. “Sure do. Size?”
I glanced back at Alexandra and smiled as I said, “Thirteen.”
I did not miss the flare of her eyes or the way they drifted down to the front of my pants.
“Eyes up here, lady,” I said, catching her gaze back in the mirror.
Startled, she ditched the surprised look and went with a glare before returning to her changing room and dramatically pulling the curtain closed again.
“What is the dynamic of your relationship?” Jamie asked, glancing back and forth between me and the closed changing room curtain.
“She’s my fiancée,” I said chipperly. “But she’d rather not be.”
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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New Series Announcement! I’ve been sitting on this news for TOO long, and it’s finally time to share it!
SERIES ANNOUNCEMENT!
I’ve been sitting on this news for TOO long, and it’s finally time to share it! I am so thrilled to announce that Ember Leigh and I have teamed up to bring our readers a brand-new series! This is a planned trilogy that will launch on APRIL 9TH, and all books are set in the fictional small-town of Winter Harbor, Oregon. But we have so much more than just quirky small-town goodness ahead. SO MUCH MORE!
The first book, THE BASTARD HEIR, follows Callum Winters, the eldest of the three estranged brothers who have gathered in Winter Harbor to face each other in the wake of their father’s passing. Their father has left them a fascinating inheritance, but there’s one catch: if they want it, they need to spend a year in the family home, Hope Creek Manor. Together.
But adapting to life together isn’t the only thing they’ll learn. Winter Harbor has so much more in store for these brothers … like finding the loves of their lives and changing the way the town views the Winters family.
THE BASTARD HEIR is releasing in ONE MONTH! Get ready for teasers and snippets galore. We’ve got a HOT second chance, enemies-to-lovers romance headed your way, and I can’t wait until you see what Ember and I have come up with!
I’m the heir to a secret family fortune, facing down brothers I hate, and trying to get back the one that got away …
Eight years ago, she broke me.
Her secrets drove a wedge between me and my brother that can never be fixed.
Now, with my life in shambles, I’m forced by the ludicrous demands of my dead father to face the one woman I ever loved, and the brother I can not stand.
I need the money. But a year is a long sentence to serve in a house with people I hate, and in a town that hates me.
A year is a long time to dodge Harlow Jackson and the eyes and smile that made me fall harder than I’ve ever fallen before.
But it only takes days to show me that what happened eight years ago was a mistake. Now I need every last second of the year ahead to convince her to take a second chance on us.
Excerpt
The sky had faded into darkness while I was inside, the tiny sliver of the moon catching my attention as I stormed outside. I needed a brisk, bayside walk to cool off. A hand clamped my wrist a moment later as I started off down the sidewalk.
“Wait,” Callum growled.
I snatched my wrist out of his grip, turning to face him. “What do you want from me, Callum? I offered for us to put the past behind us, but apparently, all you want to do is shove it in my face at every turn.”
His nostrils flared as his gaze washed over me. Something tender creased his face, and for a moment, my anger dissolved. Illuminated in the golden light of the dangling sconces that lined the sidewalk, he looked both impossibly weary and the same Callum I’d fallen in love with.
“This is all really fucking confusing.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
His sadness shone through so clearly it broke my heart. In previous times, this is where I’d gather him to my chest and try to absorb some of his pain. Because even though he was so strong and bull-headed, he could never outrun his wounds. Not then. Certainly not now. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I saw you again.”
That made two of us.
My heart slammed against my ribs at his words, tempting me to fall face-first into his deeper meaning. But I was done going on the roller coaster that was Callum Winters.
I swallowed and straightened my spine. “Can we keep things professional now or what?”
“I have one thing I need to get off my chest,” he finally said.
“What is it?”
“Carson said you’re my lawyer for a reason.” His throat bobbed, and he looked over my shoulder like maybe he was regretting saying anything. “But what reason is that? Did he ask for you specifically? Is he still hellbent on hurting us?”
The rawness on his face was heartbreaking. Emboldening. I took a step closer, remembering why I had always seized the opportunity to console him in times like these. The crack in his hard, bullish facade wasn’t just an opportunity to help him. It was a chance to glimpse into the infuriatingly complex core of him. Where mesmerizing light and warmth spilled out.
And in a blink, we were back to where we’d always been.
I shook my head. “This case was dumped on me, and I took it because it puts me one step closer to a promotion. I assure you, he had zero say in me taking this case. I did everything I could to hand it over to someone else,” I said, unable to keep the teasing tone out of my voice. “I saw the name Winters on the file and nearly quit on the spot. Almost bought a one-way ticket to India to go and live in an ashram.”
And then, there it was. The curl of his lips at the corners. Suddenly he was twenty-two again, hair flipping out from underneath his ball cap, and before I knew it he’d snagged me by the waist, gathering me up against him like something he didn’t want to lose or let go of.
He was all steel and heat beneath those designer clothes, the same way I remembered but oh, so much more. His cedar scent washed over me, turning my knees into Jell-O, and I took a fistful of his pressed cream shirt.
“Still funny, I see,” he murmured, his breath coming out hot against my forehead as his lips drifted along my hairline.
“Still a fucking tease, I see,” I shot back. Everything inside me was pounding and wild. If he didn’t kiss me, I’d combust, but I couldn’t go further than that, because I was still so hurt and angry at him.
I couldn’t bed the enemy, but I could certainly kiss him.
IT’S COVER REVEAL DAY FOR HOT BOY SUMMER! HOW GORGEOUS IS THIS COVER?????
Release Date: June 7
Hot Boy Summer: A Charity Anthology is a collection of brand new stories from 31 amazingly talented authors. Each brings to the table their own unique take on the connections we form when we live wildly under the guise of momentary fervor. It’s poolside cocktails with little umbrellas, it’s island vacations, toes in the sand, and the shirtless hot boy making eye contact with you from across the way. Dive in and experience the sizzling passion that erupts in the heat of a fleeting summer.
***HBS is a limited edition anthology collection and 100% of proceeds will be donated to children’s charities.***
Participating Authors:
Alexandria Bishop・Alys Fraser・Amie Knight・Ashley Cade・C.M. Radcliff・C.M. Steele・Cary Hart・Christy Pastore・Claire Hastings・Cynthia A. Rodriguez・Elena M. Reyes・Ellie Isaacson・Fabiola Francisco・J.R. Rogue・K Leigh・Kat Savage・Kat Singleton・Kate Bailey・Liz Durano・LK Farlow・Lori Worley・Mae Harden・Persephone Autumn・Shaw Hart・S.A. Clayton・Stephanie Nichole・Trish Anderson・TT Wild・Victoria Ellis・Whitley Cox・Zoey Drake
Pre-Order Your Copy Here!
Add to your Goodreads TBR List!
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Get one of my filthiest books for only $0.99 EVERYWHERE!
Title: Hot for the Handyman
Series: The Single Moms of Seattle
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Steamy, Contemporary Romance, Single Mom, Rom-Com
Release Date: December 5, 2020
He’s got just the right tool to fix her broken heart …
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Moms of Seattle. Three sexy single ladies who drink a ton of wine every Saturday night, bitch about life, have each other’s backs, are the ultimate mama bears, and hope to one day, just maybe find love again.
This is Bianca’s story …
Bianca’s life is insane.
A single mom to three kids, she moved back to her hometown of Seattle after her husband cheated and knocked up his secretary.
She’s just trying to get to the next day without pulling out her hair.
With a full-time job as a project manager overseeing the renovations on affordable housing, she’s doing her best to put food on the table for her kids while also proving to the world that she can make it on her own—she doesn’t need a man.
She does however, need a handyman.
Cue, Jack.
He rides in on his Harley with his smoldering blue eyes, a beard and sleeves of tattoos to save her from an abusive contractor.
He’s also a handyman. A Jack of all trades.
Is Bianca’s luck finally changing?
But Jack has one condition before he takes the job to finish the renovations on the new four-plex—she cannot fall in love with him.
An easy task for sure, right?
She just needs him to get the units rentable, love isn’t even on her radar.
But Jack’s not just a flickering flame, he’s an inferno and Bianca is drawn to him like a moth—singed wings be damned.
What happens when summer is over, Jack’s job ends, and he rides off into the sunset? Will he take Bianca’s heart with him, or will he stay and save her one last time—from heartbreak?
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, a sexy alpha male, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you liked my single dad series, then you’ll love this spin-off trilogy.
There went those cheeks again.
The prettiest shade of fucking pink he ever did see.
On the prettiest—fuck—the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
This Bianca—damn, he even loved her name—was the epitome of sensuality, sexuality and spunk, all rolled into light brown eyes, glossy brown hair and curves he wanted to sink his teeth into.
He’d been waiting for her to remember him as the man at the intersection who’d given her a thumbs-up when he caught her dancing in the car, but so far, she hadn’t made the connection.
Her day was rough. He bet she couldn’t remember what she had for breakfast, let alone a man who’d made her cheeks turn that sexy fucking pink as she let loose to Taylor Swift at the red light.
Sputtering, she blinked a bunch of times over those eyes he wanted to see gaze up at him as she fell to her knees and took him in her mouth. “Fall in love with you? You want me to promise not to fall in love with you?” She snorted before tossing her head back with a laugh. “Good one, Jack. I needed a laugh like that today. Thank you.”
“Just doing my job, darlin’,” he said with a big grin he knew was borderline cheesy. “Keeping the boss-lady happy. But seriously, I’m here to work and just for the summer. Try to keep it in your pants when you’re around me, okay? I got a job to do.” He followed up with an even bigger grin and a wink.
Her smile was natural and carefree, and it took her looks from a ten to a fucking twenty. “You always this cocky?”
“Not cocky, darlin’, just funny. Love to make people—women—laugh. Make ’em smile. Too much in this world has you frowning. The patriarchy, wage gap, pants without pockets.”
That got her laughing. “It is a plague we all face. Whoever thought pants without pockets was a good idea …”
“Was probably a man.”
“You’re probably right.” Sighing, she nodded. “I’ll do my best to keep it in my pants with pockets and not fall in love with you. You have my word. Besides, love, romance or anything in between is so far off my radar, it’s invisible to the naked eye.” That last bit was said with a twinge of regret in her tone and made him wonder what her deal was. Divorced? Widowed? In a loveless marriage with a limp-dicked moron?
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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