About Face
Love in the Suburbs #1
by D.E. Haggerty
Genre: Romantic Comedy
My grandma is trying to hook me up.
To be painfully specific, my seventy-five-year-old grandmother thinks a little hanky-panky would cheer me up. Direct quote. Since I’m currently living with her, I can’t escape the endless line of grandchildren of friends who keep ‘dropping by’ for dinner. Literally, I can’t escape. I can barely manage the trek to the dining room at this point.
While Grandma’s determined to find me a husband, I’m determined to learn how to walk again so I can walk away from her matchmaking skills. Spoiler alert: She has no matchmaking skills.
But then I get a brilliant idea. I can fake date my physical therapist. Only he wants a real date. Gulp. A real date with me? Is he for real? I’m no longer the stylish girl with the glamorous job. Now, I’m a woman with a shattered leg and a scarred face.
If I’m going to learn to live with my new reality and give love a chance, my attitude needs to do an about-face. Easier said than done.
At Arm's Length
Love in the Suburbs #2
Jackson Schmidt is the biggest jerkity jerk ever. They should totally erect a statue to commemorate his jerkityness, jerkdom— Uggh! There are literally not enough words for ‘jerk’ to depict the man.
Unfortunately, Jackson is also the most gorgeous specimen of manhood I’ve ever laid eyes on. One look at him and I want to jump and climb him like a tree. But whenever he opens his mouth, his status as the biggest bastard on the planet is immediately reinstated. It’s impossible for the man to say anything remotely nice – at least not to me. To my best friend, though? To her, he’s Mr. Perfect Gentleman. Did I mention he’s carrying a torch for my engaged best friend?
My libido does not give one flying hoot Jackson is a dick who has a crush on my bestie. Nope. Not at all. No matter how much of a schmuck the man is – and trust me he takes schmuck to the next level – I continue to pant after him like a nerdy freshman crushing on the prom king. If I want to keep my sanity, I’m going to have to keep Jackson at arm’s length.
Sanity is totally overrated.
Hands Off
Love in the Suburbs #3
I am done with men. D – O – N – E. DONE!
I don’t care how much billionaire Roman Cadwell pushes (and, oh boy, does the sexy man push ALL my buttons), I am not dating him. Especially not when he’s wearing a golden band around his ring finger. I do not get involved with married men. Call it my line in the sand. If a man can’t be faithful, I want not one single thing to do with him.
But what if Roman isn’t really married? What then? No, no, no. I will not fall into Lying McLiarson’s trap.
Only every time the man touches me, my body forgets I’m a good girl and wants to give in. Hands off, Mr. Lying Pants, before I forget I’m a good girl.
Although – no one said I had to be a good girl forever.
Author’s Note: This romantic comedy contains absolutely, positively NO cheating. None. But it does have a whole bunch of witty dialogue and a super sweet happily ever after. And maybe more drama than the author originally intended. What can she say? The characters have minds of their own.
Hands Off is book 3 of the Love in the Suburbs series but can be read as a standalone.
I grew up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom's Harlequin romances, to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic before returning to the law. But practicing law really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out running a B&B wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before following the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where, in between tennis matches and failing to save the world, I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
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US AFTER YOU by Claudia Burgoa
Release Date: March 5th
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Blurb:
I’m an independent woman.
I’ve learned never to ask for help.
I’ve been on my own for years.
Until my sister leaves me to take care of my niece.
If only they had left her in my capable hands.
Instead, I share custody with him.
Infamous billionaire, Tucker Decker.
He likes his relationships casual and free of commitment. Family ties are at the bottom of his list.
He’s ruthless, impulsive, cold-hearted, and hot as sin.
But when it comes to his former bandmates, he’d do anything for them.
Tragedy demands sacrifice.
We’re forced to move-in together to care for my niece.
He has to learn that there’s more to life than money.
I need to learn how to trust...and how to love.
But when the ghosts of our past come back to haunt us, can we survive them and each other?
Excerpt:
The party runs smoothly. Patrick or Rocco remains close to my sister unless his two friends are around. Thank goodness my parents sent their apologies. They’ll be at the wedding.
It’s past nine when the crowd begins to thin. The caterer and the cleaning crew are bustling around, making sure things remain tidy.
The door of the kitchen swings open, I’m expecting to see Grams who was going to help Gramps go upstairs. Instead, it’s him.
My cells buzz with excitement, which I don't quite understand. He’s not my type. I like clean shaven, laid back, trustworthy guys.
“Need any help?” he asks.
“Why would you ask? Is this some kind of outreach program? One kind act to make up for your daily shit?”
He lifts his eyebrows and studies me.
“What is it?” I ask. “You keep watching me.”
He smiles, extending his hand. “Let’s start again, Tucker Dean Decker.”
The contact of his skin against mine sends a fluttering sensation along my extremities and my stomach. My breath quickens. I have the need to run away from him.
Those eyes have turned warm, and for some reason, he prolongs the grip longer than he should. I feel the warmth of his skin. Suddenly, I’m too aware of his closeness. For a moment, I look at his big calloused hand, swallowing mine. I enjoy the electric pulses that his touch creates.
Scared of how I feel, I tug my hand out of his grasp, taking a step back.
“Is it the haircut or the five-thousand-dollar suit?” he asks. “There has to be a good reason why you don’t like me.”
“Maybe both,” I reply. “Tell me, Dean, is that name strictly to pick up women?”
He shakes his head. “It’s a way to keep undesired attention. Introducing myself as Tucker Decker is…something I stopped doing a long time ago.”
I laugh. “Your ego has been pumped that much that you think women will throw themselves at your feet?”
“Baby, I don’t need a bunch of women to stroke my ego to know when a woman is attracted to me. The question is, why are you fighting it?” he says boldly.
“You’re full of shit,” I say, blowing out some air, before I smack him.
“Tuck, the jet is ready. We promised to meet Nana for brunch,” Ethan says.
“Is Rocco coming?”
Ethan steps inside, shaking his head. “Nope, and it’s for the best, Zeke isn’t going to take the new Patrick well. At least the fiancée is sweet.”
“You’re judging her without knowing her,” I declare.
“If you knew Rocco, you’d know why we’re cautious,” Ethan says. “I can’t apologize for watching over my friend. Aren’t you concerned that your sister is dating a rock star?”
A pit of hopelessness opens in my stomach, should I be concerned? “I…”
“He’s a good guy,” Tucker says. “Trust takes time, and I’m sure it’s both ways. We don’t expect you to welcome him with open arms.”
“I trust my sister,” I say.
“Maybe we don’t trust Rocco and that’s the root of it all,” he tells me and winks, leaving without letting me ask any questions.
Who are you marrying, Sienna Heywood?
About the Author:
Claudia is an award-winning, USA Today bestselling author.
She writes alluring, thrilling stories about complicated women and the men who take their breath away.
She lives in Denver, Colorado with her husband and her youngest two children. She has a sweet Bichon, Macey, who thinks she’s the ruler of the house. She’s only partially right.
When Claudia is not writing, you can find her reading, knitting, or just hanging out with her family. At night, I like to binge-watch shows with his equal geek husband.
Connect w/Claudia:
Website: https://claudiayburgoa.com/wp
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