Release Date: April 23, 2017

Available May 1st, 2017
From USA Today Bestselling author J.L. Berg comes a sexy standalone about love, lies and every dirty little thing in between.
Her real name was Kate O’Malley and not only did I plan on finding her, but I fully intended on learning every dirty secret she had and exploiting it for my own gain.
But I underestimated my prey.
I didn’t anticipate how her words would intoxicate me, or how the curves of her body would consume me.
I never meant to fall in love.
And now I had a choice to make.
Do I give up everything for the woman I set out to destroy, or walk away, making me the biggest fraud of all?
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J.L. Berg is the USA Today bestselling author of the Ready Series, The Walls Duet, and the Lost & Found Duet. She is a California native living in the beautiful state of historic Virginia. Married to her high school sweetheart, they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she’s not writing, you will find her with her nose stuck in a romance novel, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
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Welcome to Whynot, North Carolina, population 3,872. It has one stoplight, one bar, and the one-and-only Trixie Mancinkus.
Suddenly, my pole jerks in my hands, and I instinctively snap the tip upward into the air. I feel something catch as the pole bends in an extreme arc.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim as I sit up straighter in the boat.
“That’s a big one,” Pap says, and Trixie laughs with delight. “Now… keep the rod up and reel it in.”
I plant my feet hard on the bottom of the boat and crank my catch in. My heart is racing because I don’t know what’s on the other end of the line, but it feels massive. I reel and reel and reel, watching as the end of the line in the water comes closer to the boat. I see a flash of grayish-brown thrash at the top of the water before the fish dives back down deep, but I keep cranking that spinner.
Pap sets his pole aside, grabs a net, and leans forward, balancing himself with a hand on the edge of the boat. I give another mighty heave on the spinner’s handle, and the fish comes to the surface.
“Oh, my God,” Trixie practically shrieks with excitement as her feet come off the edge of the boat. She leans closer to me. “He caught Ol’ Mud. I was knee high to a grasshopper the last time someone managed that.”
Pap grunts in acknowledgment, scooping the net into the water under my catch. He proceeds to pull it up, and in it is the biggest, ugliest fish I’ve ever seen in my life. Not that I’ve seen many up close and personal. I mean, I went snorkeling in the Cayman’s once, but those were all brightly colored fish with long, flowing tails. This thing is indeed the color of mud, with enormous eyes that seem to be rolling and long whiskers sticking out from around its mouth.
“What the hell is that thing?” I ask in horror.
“That’s a flathead catfish,” Pap says as he hauls him in and carefully maneuvers him out of the net with practiced efficiency. He pulls the hook out of the corner of the fish’s mouth and then holds him up for me to see.
The fish is massive and thrashes in Pap’s hands, but he grips him firmly before pushing him my way. “Want to hold him?”
I recoil slightly. “Um… no, but thank you.”
Trixie snickers behind me. “Oh, God… ain’t he precious?”
Pap snorts but doesn’t give me too much shit. “Suit yourself. Take a picture, Trixie.”
I turn in my seat and watch Trixie pull her phone from her pocket. Pap scoots closer to me and holds the damn fish up over my shoulder—which, in addition to fish, smells like mud too—and chuckles, “Smile for the camera, city boy.”
Trixie holds the phone out, grinning as she takes a picture of Pap and me as he holds that slimy, nasty-looking catfish. I know my manhood took a bit of a ding with my refusal to hold it, and I can’t say I’m thrilled that Trixie thinks I’m precious, but screw it… not going to apologize for my failure to bond with that smelly thing.
To my amazement, Pap leans over the side of the boat and slides it gently into the water while murmuring, “Until we meet again, Ol’ Mud.”
“You let it go?” I ask incredulously. While the thing was scary looking as all get out, I’ve eaten catfish before and it’s delicious. I have also witnessed Catherine’s cooking firsthand, and I bet she’d do heavenly things to that fish. Besides… I thought that’s what you did in the south. You hunted shit and you ate it.
“Ol’ Mud’s been in this lake for years,” Trixie says by way of explanation. “He’s rarely been caught, but we always release him. He’s like an icon around here. The fact that you caught him, and in the morning, is amazing.”
“Really?” I ask, a small pattering of pride thumping in my chest.
“Flathead’s normally sleep during the day, usually down under lake debris,” Pap explains. “They’re easiest to catch at night, but I don’t think Ol’ Mud’s ever been caught in daylight hours, right, Trix?”
“Right, Pap,” she says and then winks at me. “We might turn you into a southern boy yet, Ry.”

Juliette Poe is the sweet and swoony alter ego of New York Times Best Selling author, Sawyer Bennett.
A fun-loving southern girl, Juliette knows the allure of sweet tea, small towns, and long summer nights, that some of the best dates end sitting on the front porch swing, and that family is top priority. She brings love in the south to life in her debut series, Sex & Sweet Tea.
When Juliette isn’t delivering the sweetest kind of romance, she’s teaching her southern belle daughter the fine art of fishing, the importance of wearing Chucks, and the endless possibilities of a vivid imagination.
Ripple Effect is mind fuckery at it’s finest. This is the last episode in this series and I really didn’t want any of it to end. So I guess that makes me a little effed up in the head.
“Sometimes our minds are worse than the hell that surrounds us.”
This whole series was laid out beautifully. We get tiny glimpses in each episode that allow us insight into who Ripley and Dylan are. The whole series sent shivers through me – it’s mind numbing and exhilarating at the same time. Keri tells a twisted tale of violence, destruction, deceit that is thrilling, addictive and will leave you beautifully haunted by these characters.
“We’re volatile and chaotic together, ripples in the water that explode into riptides, pulling us deeper. The more she takes, the more I want to give.”
This last episode pulls everything together and you truly understand the inner workings of these two. Ripley knows how easily love for anyone can be used against you and yet he can’t stop himself from protecting Dylan. Dylan understands what Rip is doing but she refuses to be pushed aside.
“Sometimes our weaknesses are what make us stronger than we realize.”
“Because I’d kill a motherfucker for ever hurting you, and that includes myself.”
“He may not be a hero in the traditional sense, but in my world, where violence is life and suffering is survival, Ripley is a brutal contender against the iniquity I’ve come to know. And that makes him a good man, in my eyes.”
Keri has upped her game with this serial book. She really knows how to write the very dark and erotic stories that will leave your spine tingling. She knows how to push the boundaries and holds nothing back when it comes to the darker and grittier side of things. I am hoping to see more from a few of the secondary characters – Jorgen, Natalie – HINT HINT!!!!


She’s no Sleeping Beauty. And he’s definitely no prince . . .
Margot McCleery could have lived her whole life without seeing Bentley Wellington again-her ex-best friend and the poster boy for Hot, Rich Man-Whores everywhere. But Margot’s whiskey-augmented grandmother “buys” Bentley at a charity bachelor auction, and now suddenly he’s at her door. Impossibly charming. Impossibly sexy. And still a complete and utter jackass.
Bentley’s just been coerced by his grandfather to spend the next thirty days charming and romancing the reclusive red-haired beauty who hates him. The woman he abandoned when she needed him the most. Bentley knows just as much about romance as he knows about love-nothing. But the more time he spends with Margot, the more he realizes that “just friends” will never be enough. Now all he has to do is convince her to trust him with her heart . . .

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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!

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FROM NEW YORK TIMES AND #1 INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. KENNER comes the highly anticipated fourth novel in the fast-paced series including Release Me, Claim Me, and Complete Me. This sexy, emotionally charged romance continues the story of Damien Stark, the powerful multimillionaire who’s never had to take “no” for an answer, and his beloved wife Nikki Fairchild Stark, the Southern belle who only says “yes” on her own terms.
It’s a new chapter in the life of Nikki and Damien Stark …
Though shadows still haunt us, and ghosts from our past continue to threaten our happiness, my life with Damien is nothing short of perfection. He is my heart and my soul. My past and my future. He is the man who holds me together, and his love fuels my days and enchants my nights.
But when tragedy and challenge from both inside and outside the sanctity of our marriage begin to chip away at our happiness, I am forced to realize that even a perfect life can begin to crack. And if Damien and I are going to win this new battle, it will take all of our strength and love …

I look out the window at the beautifully manicured yards that line the wide street down which I am traveling in the sumptuous luxury of a classic Rolls Royce Phantom. A car so sleek and magical that I can’t help but feel like a princess in a royal coach.
The road is shaded by parallel rows of massive oaks, their branches arcing over the street toward their counterparts to form a leafy canopy. Morning light fights its way between the leaves, creating golden beams in which dust sparkles and dances as if to a celebratory melody, adding to the illusion that we are moving through a fairy tale world.
All in all, it’s a picture-perfect moment.
Except it’s not. Not really. Or at least not to me.
Because as far as I’m concerned, this is no children’s story.
This is Dallas. This is the neighborhood where I grew up. And that means that this isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a nightmare.
The branches aren’t stunning—they’re grasping. Reaching out to snare me. To hold me tight. To trap me.
The canopy doesn’t mark a royal corridor leading to a castle. It leads to a cell. And it’s not The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies that fills the air. It is a requiem for the dead.
The world outside the car is lined with traps, and if I’m not careful, I’ll be sucked in. Destroyed by the darkness that hides behind the false facades of these stately houses. Surrounded not by a bright children’s tale, but by a horror movie, lured in by the promise of beauty and then trapped forever and slowly destroyed, ripped to pieces by the monsters in the dark.
Breathe, I tell myself. You can do this. You just have to remember to breathe.
“Nikki. Nikki.”
Damien’s voice startles me back to reality, and I jerk upright, calling upon perfect posture to ward off the ghosts of my memories.
His tone is soft, profoundly gentle, but when I glance toward him, I see that his eyes have dipped to my lap.
For a moment, I’m confused, then I realize that I’ve inched up my skirt, and my fingertip is slowly tracing the violent scar that mars my inner thigh. A souvenir of the deep, ugly wound that I inflicted upon myself a decade ago when I was desperate to find a way to release all the pent-up anger and fear and pain that swirled inside me like a phalanx of demons.
I yank my hand away, then turn to look out the window, feeling oddly, stupidly ashamed.
He says nothing, but the car moves to the curb and then rolls to a stop. A moment later, Damien’s fingers twine with mine. I hold tight, drawing strength, and when I shift to look at him more directly, I see worry etched in the hard angles of that perfect face and reflected in those exceptional, dual-colored eyes.
Worry, yes. But it is the rest of what I see that takes my breath away. Understanding. Support. Respect.
Most of all, I see a love so fierce it has the power to melt me, and I revel in its power to soothe.
He is the biggest miracle of my life, and there are moments when I still can’t believe that he is mine.
Damien Stark. My husband, my lover, my best friend. A man who commands an empire with a firm, controlling hand. Who takes orders from no one, and yet today is playing chauffeur so that he can stand beside me while I confront my past.

J.Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over seventy novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres.
Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal mommy lit.
JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A five time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy). Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development with AwesomenessTV/Awestruck.
Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages.
In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas. She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.
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If Warren Price was gasoline, I’d be a lit match.
Addison Wanks, rock ’n’ roll’s favorite daughter, is good at keeping secrets.
Secret One
She’s responsible for the long-standing feud between her father’s band, Wanks and Janks, and younger band Wild Minds. She may or may not have let Wild Minds’ sexy bad-boy lead singer Warren defile her backstage at a concert. Okay, she totally did.
Secret Two
She’s supposed to be attending college but instead skips town to follow Wild Minds on their European tour. Addy adores Warren Price.
Secret Three
Europe doesn’t go so well. Her sexy lead singer turned out to be king of a**holes. He’s arrogant, demanding and controlling. Addy loathes Warren Price. Oh, well.
Secret Four
Fast forward a few years and Addy is planning to attend her father’s farewell tour when she hears the news—Wild Minds is back in the good graces of Wanks and Janks. The two bands will be headlining together. This is going to make avoiding Warren difficult. Especially since it seems Warren doesn’t want to be ignored. He also doesn’t want a divorce. That’s right, Addy is married to the Wild Minds front man. Shh. Don’t tell.
What will happen when all Addy’s secrets are revealed?

Charlotte West writes romance about strong heroines and the sexy alpha males who love them. She lives in Washington state with her husband and very large dog (think miniature pony size). She spends way too much money on books, and way too much time reading. When she’s not reading, she’s feeding her reality television addiction, eating chocolate, or traveling. She’s been known to consume her weight in Girl Scout cookies.
She has a degree in Science and a Master’s in Education, neither of which she is currently using but is still paying for. Occasionally, she moonlights as a YA author.
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My phone chirped with an incoming text. I smiled at Pete, Officer Daniels, and held up the phone. “I’ll just be a minute. It’s probably Billy.”
Pete let go of the restaurant door he’d been holding open for me. “He still mad you didn’t let him come for graduation?” After spending the summer with Pete’s family, I’d decided to stay for my senior year, a decision my father didn’t understand and still wasn’t happy about.
“I think he’s coming around,” I said. Billy had wanted to attend to my high-school graduation. But the thought of my famous father in small town Beaverton, Oregon near all my friends figuratively made me break out in hives.
Pete nodded. “All right, but don’t take too long. We’re excited to celebrate with you.”
“Got it.” I smiled brightly. My gown fluttered in the early summer wind, I’d left my cap in the car. “Tell Gabe to save me a seat next to him.” Pete and Mel’s son Gabe had graduated with me and was set for a full-ride football scholarship to OSU. As for me, I’d be off to New York in a few weeks to attend college. Strolling the sidewalk, I peeked at my phone. It wasn’t my father.
Mystery number: Hi.
Me: Hi. Who’s this?
Mystery number: Warren Price. Remember me?
If it’s possible for your heart to fall straight out of your chest, mine did.
Me: Yeah. How’d you get my number?
Warren: I know people who know people.
Me: Huh?
Warren: It’s the digital age, babe. Not hard to find someone’s phone number. The right YouTube video and I could give myself a vasectomy.
Me: Would you really do that?
Warren: What?
Me: Give yourself a vasectomy?
Warren: Hell, no. But I could.
Warren: You still there?
Me: It’s been a long time.
Warren: Sorry about that. Been thinking about you, though.
Me: Yeah?
Me: I don’t think this is a good idea, you and me talking. Billy doesn’t want us to be friends.
Warren: I disagree. I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had. Besides, last time I checked we were a little more than friends. What you been up to?
Me: In a nutshell? Billy sent me away to live in BFE. Since then… Went to school dances. Drank my first bottle of peach schnapps. Saw Twilight four times.
Warren: Damn. That’s a lot of living for a small town.
Me: I know. Mind blown, right? How about you, what have you been up to?
Warren: Got booted from Billy’s celestial limelight just like you, working the dive bar circuit again.
Me: Ouch. Sorry.
Warren: Not your fault.
Warren: Shit. Got to go. About to the take the stage at a honkey-tonk in Nashville. This should be interesting. We don’t play country.
Me: All right.
Warren: Okay if I text you again?
Me: Thumbs up.
Warren: Did you just text me the words: thumbs up?
Me: Yep. My emoji button is broken. Sad face.
Warren: Okay then.
Me: Okay.
James Crow lives in the UK in a redbrick mansion, where the walls are tall, the basements deep, and where secrets aplenty are just waiting to be told. Watch this space.