Grumpy sunshine, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, angst and Christmas all in one sexy package

Title: Done With You
Series: A Young Sisters Novel
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Close Proximity, Cop, Enemies to Lovers, Christmas, Broken Hero
Release Date: October 14, 2023
She already knows all of his secrets, and that’s what terrifies him the most.

 

Looking for one night to forget her problems, Oona Young uses an alias and follows a handsome stranger back to his hotel room. Their time together is brief but passionate, and she leaves in the morning, believing she’ll never see him again. Only when her newest patient is the same man who’s seen all of her tattoos, do things get awkward. She’s read his file and knows what he’s dealing with. Ethically, she must refuse to treat him.
Forced into therapy before he can return to active duty as a police officer, Aiden Lassiter has been on the waitlist to see Dr. Young for months. So imagine his frustration and shock when the woman, who hasn’t left his thoughts since that wild night he used a fake name, is sitting in the therapist’s chair and refuses to treat him.
Things can’t get any worse, right?
Oh, but they can and certainly do when he finally works up the courage to visit his estranged brother and Oona ends up beside him on the plane. Little do either of them know they’re in for one interesting Christmas.

 

 

“What can you say about the book you’ve been waiting for to come out but WOWZERS! This is the last Young sister we’ve seen her in past books but wow is Oona amazing. She and Aiden meet unexpectedly and have a fun sexy night together. However the next day everything goes down hill and keeps on rolling. Will they figure it out?” ~Mrs Taz (Amazon Review)

“My favourite scene in the story is when all of the sisters are able to get together and really work through just how hurtful their upbringing was. But then they realized that finding strength in the struggle to become the women they turned out to be: top of their game in their chosen professions, loved by friends and family, desired by the men who stood up for their love really made their chosen family theirs.” ~AngelaC (Amazon Review)

 

“I can smell you,” he growled, trailing his fingers delicately up her inner thigh, gathering some of her arousal that coated her inner lips, and pressing the pad of his thumb against her clit. “Smell how bad you want me. How bad you want my cock in your tight little cunt.”

Normally, a man smelling her arousal would be something that would embarrass her. Yet, with Aiden, she was turned on by it. She didn’t care. Didn’t give a damn that he knew how hot she was for him. How much she wanted him. He clearly wanted her, too, otherwise, he wouldn’t have attacked her with his mouth and undressed her. 

Her body was open and ready for him. Ready to welcome the enemy. 

They could keep things drama free for Rayma and Jordan’s sake, but right now, they had things they needed to clear up. Closure sex. 

Yeah, that’s what this was. 

Angry, hateful, closure sex. 

That was a thing, right?

Like a bookend to a bad story. They had sex as strangers. Albeit strangers who seemed to like each other and get along. Then things turned ugly. And now, they were at the end of the book, and although it wasn’t a happy ending, they were attempting to wrap things up with a hate fuck of closure. 

That made very little sense to her, but whatever. That was what it was. 

Reaching between them, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and stroked him, pulling a bear-like growl from deep within his chest. “Why?” he breathed, dropping his mouth next to her ear. 

She had no answers. She couldn’t push a word from her tight throat if she tried. 

“I hate you,” he said, his mouth next to her temple. 

Yeah, and she wasn’t overly fond of him, either. 

“But I … I can’t resist. No fucking self-control.”

Whoa! Her pussy spasmed and she nearly came from that tortured confession.

With her free hand, she shoved her fingers into his hair and wrenched his head back, only to take his mouth with force, wedging her tongue between his lips. He bit her lip and growled again, taking control of their kiss, and forcing her to tilt her head the other way. 

She ripped her mouth away, pulling in air like she’d just resurfaced from a record-breaking free dive. She needed to keep hold of at least some of her wits. To keep her desire for this man, whom she definitely shouldn’t want, from completely drowning her. To remind him that he hated her, and this was a terrible idea. 

But still, no words formed on her tongue. The ability to put vowels and consonants together to form words eluded her.

And it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to be the one to break, it was because even though she knew this was a terrible idea, a colossally disastrous idea, she couldn’t stop.

She didn’t want to.

Then, he pushed one finger, and another into her channel and pumped. Their cheeks were glued together, sweat forming between their pressed-together skin, as they both panted, his cock throbbing hotly in her palm while she stroked him. He curled his fingers inside of her and she ground down onto his palm, biting her lip and tipping her head back. But he wasn’t having any of that, apparently, and pulled his fingers free of her almost fast enough to give her pussy whiplash. 

Then she was off the counter and bent over the arm of the couch, ass in the air. She didn’t remember leaving her purse in the living room last night, but there it was, right on the floor beside his big, bare feet. He bent down and rifled through it until he found a condom. The sound of the wrapper being ripped open was deafening, and the anticipation of what was to come, agonizing and glorious. 

Her legs shook and her pussy pulsed, causing another trickle of arousal to run down her inner thigh.

 

 

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 Rebel Heir is LIVE! Enemies to lovers, family secrets, a locked hobbit door and a griffon?

Title: The Rebel Heir
Series: Winter Harbor Heroes, Book 3
Authors: Whitley Cox & Ember Leigh
Genre: enemies to lovers, small town, mystery, sibling rivalry, will/inheritance clause, feuding brothers, family secrets, broken hero
Release: March 18, 2023

 

The only way to save our small town is by working with the enemy … but hearts might get broken in the process.
Colton
I don’t do emotional attachments.
Those who love me get hurt.
I keep people at arm’s length and never let women in my bed long enough for the sheets to get warm.
But when the granddaughter of my family’s mortal enemy comes to me for help, something in me shifts.
Lily Summers is a sassy, snarky, filter-free blonde with a brain—and mouth—that never quits.
Besides the sexual tension between us that keeps me awake at night, we only have one thing in common: neither of us wants the big city developer coming into Winter Harbor and destroying the integrity of the town with high rises and casinos.
We’re an unlikely team, but Lily has passion and Winter Harbor likes her, so I bite my tongue at her non-stop chatter and do what’s right for the town.
I never planned on falling for someone—let alone the enemy—but when we give into our attraction, I’m suddenly doing things I never thought I would … and it’s all for her.
Together, it seems like we can take on the world—or at the very least, Dunlop Holdings. But when a shocking development rocks Winter Harbor, its accompanied by an unsavory truth about Lily.
Now the question is: who is going to get hurt the worst?
Whether it’s me, Lily, or Winter Harbor itself, only one can survive the fallout.
*** This is the third 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.

 

 

Rain met my back, cool against the warm, humid tang of the air. I made quick work of inspecting each tire, but I found the problem before I’d finished making the rounds. The rear passenger tire was deflating. I swore under my breath and kicked at the flat tire.

Lily’s door opened, and she hopped out, glaring at me like I’d called her the worst type of flower name. Then her gaze dropped to the tire.

“So this is my fault, huh?” She propped her hands on her hips, staring at me expectantly.

“Get inside,” I told her, wiping rain from my forehead. “I’ll handle this.”

“Well, if it’s my fault, I should help, right?”

I sighed, heading for the bed of the truck. I knew there had to be a spare tire somewhere. Carson wouldn’t have a truck without a spare, right?

“I’m talking to you,” Lily said, following close behind.

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Well, if I apparently can cause tires to deflate simply from my mere existence, then surely I can help fix them by standing near you?”

I heaved a sigh as I lowered the tailgate. I’d had the forethought to cover Lily’s things with a tarp before we left, but I hadn’t exactly canvassed the truck to see where a spare tire might be lurking. I pushed some things around, looking for a secret wheel well. “Well, I think we can safely say that you standing next to me isn’t helping. So thanks, but no thanks.”

She let out a frustrated noise, glancing up to the heavens. “Colton Winters, you are such a jerk. Do you know that?”

I did know that. But it was part of my strategy. I needed her to hate me, because if she didn’t, then I’d most certainly begin pursuing her.

And I couldn’t have that. Not when so much of my life was built around transience. Around have a good fucking time. Around one-and-done.

Lily was annoying. Not only that, she was smart, interesting, and getting more beautiful to me by the day. She was dangerous, at least to life as I’d known it thus far. I’d had enough disruptions in the past year, between discovering my dad died and then reconnecting with my brothers in Winter Harbor. Not to mention leaving my former life behind, which I’d quite enjoyed as an international vagabond.

I didn’t need to add someone like Lily to my long list of unexpected—and mostly unwelcome—life changes.

I must have remained silent for too long because she continued. “Whatever. You know what? It doesn’t matter. I thought you were maybe a regular guy underneath all the barbs and the shitty aloofness, but I was wrong.”

“It’s ’cause you love regular guys so much, huh?” My words tumbled out before I could even decide otherwise. I knew I shouldn’t go there, but it was too late. The dam had broken.

“Huh?”

“Regular guys. Like Dennis. With the polos and the khakis.” I smirked as I glanced at her, palming the tailgate. We were both mostly soaked with rain by now, but I didn’t mind. It was humid, and I loved the way the rain made her shirt stick to her chest. I’d been staring at that bare shoulder all day, wondering what it tasted like, and now that it was wet and shiny, all I wanted to do was lick it. “And probably the completely lackluster performance in bed, too.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “No, that’s— No. I don’t look for that. I just—”

“What is it, Lilium?” I squatted to peer beneath the truck and spotted the bulging spare wheel well. I made quick work of opening it. Mud smeared my forearms as I tugged the tire out and hauled it to the passenger side. I snatched the tools next, wiping my rain-soaked face with the collar of my T-shirt. I took Lily silence as my permission to continue needling her.

“You want me to be a regular guy, don’t you?” I kneeled in front of the tire, glancing up at her before I got to work jacking up the truck. “Too bad for you, I’m not.” Her rain-soaked shirt was plastered to the contours of her body. I jerked my gaze away. After our surprisingly hot kisses, followed by our first genuine connection, I was ten seconds from losing every ounce of cool around her. Seeing her more of her body did not help matters. “Just let the fucking jerk fix the tire and get inside the truck, okay?”

“No.” She crossed her arms again. I had to admit, her defiance was hot. But she didn’t know that she was playing with fire.

“Lily,” I said, more forcefully this time, as I finished jacking up the truck with a frustrated burst of air. “I need you out of my sight, okay? Let me fucking fix this tire.”

“Why can’t I be here? I should supervise. Make sure you’re not being a regular guy about it.”

I ground my teeth, weighing my options. I did want her out of my sight. But more than that, I wanted to see how far I could push the envelope. I knew there could be no way she’d be into me—I’d made sure of it over the past months of knowing her. But what was the harm of finding out for sure?

“If I have to stare at your perfect tits heaving out of your top for even one more second, I’m gonna explode. And I mean that in exactly the way you think I do. So just get. In. The. Fucking. Truck.”

Realization washed across her face. Her cheeks went pink again, and I was hard as a rock watching her. Fuck. I focused on ignoring Lily as I started loosening the first lug nut.

After what I’d said, I didn’t know what I expected from her. But I certainly didn’t expect her to step over my arms—as I finally removed the lug nut—and tower over me with a satisfied smile on her face.

“Lily—”

“If I have to watch you working on this truck with your muscles flexing in this rain for even one more second, then I’m going to explode. So what are we going to do about it?”

I gaped up at her, caught between awestruck and horny. I knew what we were going to do about it. Or at least what I’d love to do about it.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I suggested the solution,” I snapped, dropping the wrench as I inspected her bare calves from this close. Goose pimples covered her skin, flaring where my breath hit her legs. “Which was to separate us entirely. But it looks like you don’t want a regular guy after all.”

She shook her head, staring down at me with raw passion and vulnerability slashed across her face. I caught her drift. I was good at catching the drift when it came to situations like these. I touched the outsides of her ankles, dragging my fingertips slowly up the sides of her legs.

“What happens on the road from Portland,” she said, her voice growing shakier the higher my hands ran. “Stays on the road from Portland.”

 

 

 

 

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.
 
Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck and wrangle two wild boys.

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The ultimate Grumpy/Sunshine romance you’ve all been waiting for

Title: Snowed in with the Rancher
Series: A Young Sisters Novel
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre/Tropes: Christmas, Western, Cowboy Romance, Military, Grumpy/Sunshine 
Release Date: March 4, 2023
Can her ray of sunshine melt his icy heart?

Recently dumped by her boyfriend, Triss Young accepts the unexpected offer from her best friend to travel to Colorado and spend Christmas with Hannah and her uncles. But when Triss’s plane lands in Denver and Hannah’s is rerouted because of snow, Triss heads to the ranch alone and is surprised when a blue-eyed, sexy rancher with dog tags answers the door.

Grumpy rancher Asher Harris doesn’t know what to make of the beauty who showed up on his doorstep at midnight, covered in snow and hell-bent on snuggling goats. He’s got a lot of work to do on the ranch and doesn’t have time to entertain, even though he can think of a few ways he and Triss could stay warm.

However, this Christmas seems to be full of surprises for everyone, as Triss proves herself to not only be a natural with the horses, but she’s up for anything—even mucking stalls. Is she also the breath of fresh air and happiness Asher didn’t know he needed?
 

Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door and the porch light flicked on just before the big solid oak door was yarded open to reveal a shirtless man, not much older than Triss, wearing flannel pajama pants. He had abs for days, dog tags hanging between his pecs, a scowl on his face, and confusion in his dark blue eyes.

Was she at the right house?

Hannah said she was coming to spend Christmas with her uncles. This man could not be Hannah’s uncle. Not when he should be on the cover of some firefighters with kittens calendar. Or in this case, cowboys with baby goats calendar.

His eyes traipsed down her body. “Who are you?” Dear God, his voice was exactly what she’d expect from a cowboy. Sex and rasp.

She swallowed, trying her hardest to keep her eyes on his face, not his six-pack. “I’m Triss. Hannah’s friend.”

His brows scrunched. “Hannah’s flight had to turn around.”

“Did it?” She checked her phone, though she realized the moment she did it that it wouldn’t do her any good. Not only would Hannah not be able to text her if she was still in the air, but Triss’s phone had up and died on her journey from the road. “Fuck,” she muttered, stowing her phone back in her pocket. “Are you Hannah’s cousin?”

He shook his head which caused the porch light to catch on a thick white scar on his chin and make it glow. “Uncle.”

If the other uncle was just as young and hot, Triss was going to have a heart attack.

“She did tell you I was coming, right?”

He shook his head.

“Fuck.”

“For Christmas?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. Hannah invited me to join her here with you and … your brother? For Christmas.” At the mention of his brother, Triss tried to see around the man’s big frame into the house and whether another one just like him was lurking in the shadows.

“Nate’s in Texas. Took a yearling down there few days ago, got stuck in the snow.”

“And you are?”

“Asher.”

A man of very few words.

“Well … uh … I flew in from Baltimore. Hannah’s my best friend and …” She glanced back toward the road. “My cabby made me walk from the road. After I paid triple the fare to get here.”

All Asher did was scratch at his bristly jaw, the sound of his nails on those short wiry hairs doing all kinds of strange things to Triss’s lower belly.

Was he going to invite her in?

His eyes bore holes into her face for a solid thirty seconds, causing heat to worm through her until her hands grew sweaty in her gloves. Then, finally when she wasn’t sure if he’d slam the door in her face or not, he opened it wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, awkwardly tugging her suitcase over the threshold and stepping into the dark, sparsely decorated farmhouse. It was warm inside, which she realized was from a wood stove in the corner of the living room. A window in the wood stove door was the only light in the room, its orange flames making the area around it glow.

She tugged off her gloves and removed her hood from her head, apologizing when a few droplets of water from it were flicked onto his hard chest.

“Guest room is down the hall. Bathroom is beside it,” he said, jerking his scarred chin in that direction. Then before she could ask him any more questions, he turned away from her and padded his big bare feet up the creaky wooden staircase that led to darkness. A second later, she heard a door close, only then did she release the breath that had snagged in her throat when she saw that butt in those pajama pants.
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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