


"This is LJ Shen at her wittiest, steamiest, heart-aching best!"
--Kennedy Ryan, Wall Street Journal bestselling author

Boston’s debauched elite is going up in flames, and it’s the Fitzpatrick family that set it on fire.
Hunter
I didn’t mean to star in a sex tape, okay?
It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds.
It just happened.
Now my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston’s nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan.
The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family’s oil company.
Little does she know, that’s not the only pipe I’ll be laying…
Sailor
I didn’t want this gig, okay?
But the deal was too sweet to walk away from.
I needed the public endorsement; Hunter needed a nanny.
Besides, what’s six months in the grand scheme of things?
It’s not like I’m in danger of falling in love with the appallingly gorgeous, charismatic gazillionaire who happens to be one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors.
No. I will remain immune to Hunter Fitzpatrick’s charm.
Even at the cost of losing everything I have.
Even at the cost of burning down his kingdom.

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“Holy SWOON! This is a sexy, small-town romance at its finest." -- Claire Kingsley, Amazon Top 10 Bestselling Author

Back then, I had it all.
Wicked fastball. Killer instinct. Cocky grin. Full package.
(And believe me, I knew how to score.)
My senior year, I was a first round draft pick with a two-million-dollar signing bonus. Before I could even legally buy myself a beer, I made my Major League debut.
Point is, I was invincible.
Until one day I wasn’t.
After tanking my career—during the World Series, no less—the last thing I want to do is return to my hometown, where every jerk in a ball cap has an opinion about what went wrong with my arm. So when my sister drags me back to town for her wedding, I vow to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.
Then I run into April Sawyer.
In high school we were just friends, but I’d always wanted her, and I’d never forgotten her—the red hair, the incredible smile, the crazy, reckless thing we did in the back of my truck the night we said goodbye. It’s been eighteen years, but one look at her and I feel like my old self again. I can still make her laugh, she can still take me down a notch, and when the chemistry between us explodes, it’s even hotter this time around—and I don’t want it to end.
But just when I think I’m ready to let go of the past and get back in the game, life throws me a curveball I never saw coming.

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Excerpt:
“Baseball was the only thing I ever did that made my dad proud. Without it, what’s left?”
I swallowed hard. “How about the rest of your life? All the amazing things you’re going to do and be? Maybe you can’t see them yet, but I can.”
He turned around and looked at me. Took my face in his hands. “No one has ever seen me the way you do.”
I smiled. “Maybe no one ever bothered to look beyond the surface—I mean, you’re Tyler Shaw. The surface is pretty nice to look at.”
He kissed me hard then, and deep, his tongue penetrating my lips, his hands sliding into my hair. The kiss grew hotter as he moved me backward toward the bed, shoving his pants down, and lifting me onto the sheets.
“God, April,” he whispered as his mouth traveled down my throat and his hands roamed over my skin. “I want you so much. I want you so much it scares me.”
“Why?” I arched beneath his lips and tongue and teeth and palms and fingers as they moved over my body. I put my hands in his hair.
“Because I keep imagining this life with you, this life full of things I’ve never wanted before.”
“What kinds of things?” As much as I loved his dirty mouth, his sweet words were just as thrilling, and I wanted to hear them all.
“I want to share a bed with you every night. And wake up to you every morning. I want to make breakfast for you, see you in the stands at Central High baseball games, reach all the stuff in the high cupboards in the kitchen. I want to be the one you come home to.”
I smiled. “Don’t be scared. I want all those things too.”
“But what if I fuck it up?” He kissed his way up the center of my chest and braced himself above me. “What if I’m not good at it? What if I don’t deserve it?”
“Tyler.” I took his face in my hands. “You deserve it. Do you hear me? You deserve to be loved the way I’m going to love you.”
Then his mouth was crushing mine and we were pressed chest to chest, rolling sideways with our arms and legs tangled as we tried to get under each other’s skin. He left my side only for the twenty seconds it took to put a condom on, and then he was back, easing into my body. When he was buried deep, he stopped and looked down at me. “I don’t know what the second act of my life is going to look like, but I know you’re the best part of it.”
My heart, already beating hard, threatened to burst right out of my chest. “Really?”
“Yes.”
Tell me again, I wanted to say, even as his mouth possessed mine once more and he began rocking into me with deep, steady strokes. Let me hear those words again, because they meant I didn’t have to be alone anymore. They meant the risk was worth it.
They meant that finally I could say to myself . . . This is what it feels like to fall in love.
About Melanie
USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like Schitt’s Creek, Homeland, and Fleabag. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the CLOVERLEIGH FARMS series, the ONE & ONLY series, AFTER WE FALL series, the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.
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Love on Beach Avenue by Jennifer Probst
Release Date: May 1, 2020

Love on Beach Avenue, a standalone contemporary romance in the Sunshine Sisters Series, by New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Probst.
Avery Sunshine might not have a soul mate of her own, but she still believes in happily ever after—for her clients. Making dreams come true is her business at Sunshine Bridal, which she runs with her two sisters. When her best friend announces her engagement, Avery is thrilled to take charge of the giddy bride-to-be’s big day. Less thrilling? The arrogant and demanding man of honor.
Carter Ross’s first instinct: call 911. He promised to always take care of his impulsive little sister, and he honors that vow. Even if it means taking over where he’s sure Avery will fail. At best, she’s unpredictable. At worst, if she’s anything like the spitfire of a college girl he remembers, the main event could run wild.
With Avery and Carter wrestling for control, tempers heat up. So does the spark of attraction they’re fighting with every kiss. As the wedding draws near, it’s time to reconcile a rocky past and make a decision that could change everyone’s lives. Because what they’re rebelling against looks a lot like love.

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Excerpt:
Avery refused to flinch. Refused to back off from his mocking blue-gray eyes or his smug grin. Oh, he was a bigger ass than she’d remembered—a complete control freak who’d try to muck up her processes and drive her insane just for the fun of it. No way was he about to intimidate her. She was an expert in taming fierce mama bears, overprotective fathers, and zealous bridesmaids. Handling one older brother should be a cakewalk. Unfortunately, she was still off her game after being completely humiliated by that awful scene he’d witnessed. Even worse? He took charge when she’d floundered, exhibiting a natural command that was part of his DNA. In all her years of dealing with PITAs and planning snafus, she’d never seen such a turnaround from a stern lecture. She’d made a call to Al, the Majesty owner, and found a smaller room at a large discount that satisfied Ms. Pappadelle’s requirements. They’d retreated, chattering away like old friends, leaving her head spinning like those old cartoons with little birdies circling above. Some cakewalk. Carter had exploited her moment of weakness in order to convince Ally to let him help plan the wedding. Now Avery was stuck with him. He kept staring, not budging an inch while he waited for her response. The only thing that stopped her from giving him a verbal tongue-lashing was his obvious love for Ally. He’d taken her hand with no pause, his presence a comfort to her friend when she spoke about their mother. It was the only redeeming quality the man had. Still, she needed to teach him how the game rules worked. “You like being in charge, don’t you?” she asked, tilting her head to study him. He smirked. “So do you.” “When it involves my business and clients, yes. Personally, I think you’re just pissed you’re being forced to listen to me. I have the expertise and knowledge you simply don’t have. It’d be best for all of us moving forward if you stepped back and let me guide Ally without your interference. I promise to take good care of her.” He gave a deep laugh, and her nerve endings tingled. Bastard. It was eighty degrees out and the man was dressed in a slim tailored suit like he worked on Wall Street. The charcoal fabric fit him snugly, emphasizing his lean, whipcord length. He radiated a calm intensity that had always thrown her off, even when she was young. Those misty blue-and-gray eyes seemed to hold all the answers, even hidden behind glasses. As if the deeper and longer he stared at her, the more secrets he’d catch. As if he was imagining things she had no access to but wished for a hint. Back then, the only thing she’d focused on was her irritation with his unfair demands on Ally. No boys, no frat parties, no staying out past curfew. No drinking, no smoking, and no fun. He’d treated Ally like a high school student rather than a college woman, so Avery had made sure to drag her friend on adventures and allow her to experience life. Now her brother wanted to do the same thing with her wedding. Too bad there was a new sheriff in town. He pushed his glasses up his nose and regarded her with disdain. “Taking care of her once ended with my sister in jail. Remember that? When I specifically asked you to promise you’d be home by midnight for her biology test the next day?” “I was nineteen then! What do you think I’m going to do before her wedding? Get her arrested for drunken misbehavior? Propositioning a stripper? Cheating at cards?” “All of those are possibilities,” he said drily. “After all, I just witnessed a bride war on your front steps.” Those glasses only made him look stodgier and intimidating. Hadn’t he heard of contact lenses? “It’s simple. I don’t trust you, Avery. I never did. There’s only one person who can take the best care of my sister.” A grim smile rested on his lips. “Me.”About Jennifer:
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She holds a masters in English Literature and lives in the beautiful Hudson Valley in upstate New York. Her family keeps her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean. Her passions include horse racing, Scrabble, rescue dogs, Italian food, and wine—not necessarily in that order.
She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, spent 26 weeks on the New York Times. Her work has been translated in over a dozen countries, sold over a million copies, and was dubbed a “romance phenom” by Kirkus Reviews. She is also a proud three-time RITA finalist.
She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at www.jenniferprobst.com.
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USA Today bestselling author Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she's not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like Schitt’s Creek, Homeland, and Fleabag. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.