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By definition – a Rogue is naughty..

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Excerpt One

WHY WAS LEO here? Rebecca had followed his pursuits in the newspapers. He never came to Langmere. Ever.

She pushed her back against the wall of the stables. A little brick dust rained down upon her. She wrinkled her nose and held her breath. The lamplight only offered her a hint of his features as he ducked into the building that was shrouded in darkness by the late hour.

He still made her heart skip. Even after all these years. It shouldn’t have surprised her that it did. He always did that to her, and the years had been kind to him, hardening his jaw and filling out his shoulders.

He wore a shirt, slightly untucked and rolled up at the sleeves, revealing muscular forearms dusted with hair. He murmured something to the horse, and her stomach did a tumble. If she closed her eyes, she would be six and ten again, listening to him speak to his horses whilst perched on a milking stool and watching him with such admiration. Their love of animals had brought them together but that had swiftly turned into something else.

Sometimes, she suspected Leonard Moncrieff would be the only man she ever loved.

However, just because he was still kind to animals did not mean he was the same man. It pained her to read every column devoted to him and his dalliances, yet she could not help herself. They had not spoken in nearly ten years and she could not help but want to know every element to his life, even while it stabbed at her heart to read of the rake he had become.

He stilled and turned, the golden light dappling over his face. She sucked in a breath. No wonder women swarmed to him. The attractive young man she had known had grown into the most handsome man she had ever seen.

She clapped a hand over her mouth when his brow furrowed. He lifted the lamp and peered at the shadows. She waited, her heart pounding against her chest so loudly that she feared he would hear it.

Then he shook his head, returned the lamp to the plinth and turned back to the horse, smoothing strong hands down the animal’s flanks.

Rebecca inhaled a shaky breath through her nostrils. And regretted it. Instantly. The brick dust and hay combined made her nose tickle and her eyes water. She pressed a finger under her nose but to no avail. A sneeze burst from her, cracking through the stillness.

She jolted away from the wall with the intention of escaping but too late. Leo descended upon her and grabbed her arm. “Who are you?” he demanded.

She tried to wriggle free of his strong grip, but he grabbed her other arm. When she went to push past him, he shoved back, and she lost her footing and tumbled onto a pile of hay. He fell with her, the sudden tumble dragging him down. The breath left her lungs at the impact of his body atop hers, his strength and height utterly apparent.

“Get off me,” she grunted, struggling against his hold.

“What are you doing here, boy?”

She stilled at the word. He hadn’t recognized her. She supposed the shadows were too dark. And that meant her disguise had worked. With any luck, she could make her excuses, leave, and he would be none the wiser of her presence here.

“Just seeking shelter,” she murmured, keeping her voice low.

He kept her pinned, fingers curled around both wrists. The awareness of his hard body atop hers sizzled through her despite herself. She squirmed once more and he cocked his head, releasing her arms suddenly. “You’re no boy.”

Excerpt Two

“You do not have to stay,” she murmured between forkfuls of lukewarm but beautifully spiced duck.

“I told Alexander I was taking a stroll about the parkland.” He lingered by the window, his hands clasped behind his back, despite there being nothing for him to view from such a position.

She sighed and gestured to the chair opposite. “You had better sit then. It feels mightily odd eating with you towering over me.”

He lowered himself onto the chair, his frame seeming too big for a piece of furniture that had likely been designed for a woman.

She forced her attention to the food. Tomorrow she had intended to hunt down a woman with whom her father had been connected, and it would likely involve walking into Grasmere so she would need her strength.

“How are your brothers?” she finally asked when the silence stretched too long.

Not that it was uncomfortable, at least not in the traditional manner. It left her feeling oddly achy and desperate for the days when they had been able to talk and touch freely.

“Well enough, though I cannot say they would confide in me were they not.”

She frowned, gesturing with her fork. “But you used to be so close, especially to Adam.”

“We are all busy these days.” He lifted both shoulders. “Alexander is forever hunting out his next adventure, probably determined to kill himself so he does not have to worry about siring an heir, and Adam still enjoys cards.”

“And you, what do you do?”

“I thought you knew all about me.” He smirked. “You have read all about me in the gossip columns after all.”

“Well, yes.” Warmth spread into her face, and she eyed the glossy table top until she could get the heat under control. “But only briefly,” she lied.

Leo leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. “Then I am sure you know it all.”

“The horses,” she blurted, motioning so fast with her fork that a few remnants of meat flung off it and splattered against the curtains. She grimaced and gently lowered the fork.

His lips curved but he said nothing of her disastrous manners.

“What I was trying to say was there are so many horses. Are they yours?”

He nodded. “We are so seldom here that Alexander does not mind me using the park land for the horses.”

“For racing?”

“No. They are too old. I purchase those who are at the end of their racing or working careers and they live out their retirement here.”

“Of course you do.”

Rebecca should not have been surprised really, but she almost wished there was some selfish reason. It would make it all the easier to ignore this pull toward him as though he had lassoed a rope around her and was slowly hauling her in with his every word and action.

He lifted both brows. “You sound almost disappointed.”

“Well, it does rather ruin your image as the seductive rake.”

“And that disappoints you?” His gaze clashed with hers, making her chest feel tight.

“No, it is just—”

“You want to know why I bedded all those women over the years?”

“Leo—”

“Because of you, Rebecca.” His jaw twitched. “To forget you.” He shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. “I needed to get you out from under my skin, but I’ll be damned if I succeeded.”

She inhaled a sharp breath that seemed to sear her lungs. It all could be a lie, she supposed, but she did not think so. His confession had the loop tightening, drawing her closer still until she could fight him no longer.

Perhaps, just for now, she did not want to fight him.

“I never forgot you either,” she confessed.

The words escaped without thought and she should have regretted them, but when his gaze darkened and she knew precisely what his next move would be, she could not bring herself to.

She held herself still and waited.

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AUTHOR BIO:

USA Today Bestselling author Samantha Holt lives in a small village in England with her twin girls and a dachshund called Duke. If you’re not sure where to start why not try…

▶ Amelia and the Viscount (Bluestocking Brides #1) for a fun, slightly hot shorter length read. Meet the Chadwick sisters and follow their adventures in each of their standalone stories.

▶ You’re the Rogue That I Want (Rogues of Redmere #1) is a longer read with heat, witty dialogue, a feisty heroine and adventure. All books in the series are standalone.

▶ Sinful Confessions is the first in the Cynfell Brothers Series. These are all novella length and standalone–ideal for a quick dip into the world of the sexy Cynfell brothers.

▶ Wake Me With a Kiss is a sweet, fairytale romance. Twists on Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella are also available if you love a clean, fun read.

▶ To Steal a Highlander’s Heart is a full length dive into the world of sexy highlanders. For those who love braw Scots, some steamy scenes, and medieval romance, this series is a perfect escape.

image 1 - By definition - a Rogue is naughty..

Author links:

https://www.facebook.com/samanthaholtromance/

https://www.instagram.com/samantha_and_duke/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6458884.Samantha_Holt

https://samanthaholt.us3.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=cd4c9a291cda3d8398f6cc6b2&id=497911adeb

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Please help the Librarian : night time only!

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EXCERPT

My parents started this library and filled it with millions of dollars of books. Three floors. Open in the middle—same as our house—overlooking the main floor. When I wasn’t in school or training to be a Keeper, I was here, losing myself in books. I think I always knew I wanted to be a librarian, but it just took a while to work up the courage to tell my family. Of course, when I did, they acted like I’d told them I wanted to be a porn star or bank robber.

To this day, I don’t regret my choice, but I do regret how my parents were murdered before I could convince them that choosing another path in life didn’t mean I hated them. They died thinking the worst of me, and for that, I don’t think I’ll ever feel closure.

I pull into the parking lot to the side of my library and immediately go for my crossbow. The big one this time. Bertha.

There are four black SUVs in the lot and two parked out front on the busy street at the meters. I know it isn’t Nice, which is why I grab the chocolate-tipped arrow. I make them myself with pure cocoa powder and a flour paste so the tip hardens just enough to penetrate the skin. Vampire skin.

Chocolate is a narcotic for us. Give us enough, and it’ll kill, whereas a small dose has the same effect as alcohol. I’ve yet to sample any since being turned because I’ve been alone with Stella and must be on my guard. Mommy can’t get a chocolate chip cookie buzz until she finds a ninja sitter.

I take my crossbow and exit my Hummer. I might be a librarian, but when it comes to defending my child, I’m a one-woman army. Ready to kick fangs or asses. The ill-fitting, disheveled clothes I wear—below-the-knee skirts, moth-eaten sweaters, and granny glasses—are merely a disguise. Today I have on a wrinkled white blouse, plain tan pants, and a black cardigan that’s all stretched out. People see me and think I couldn’t harm a fly or fight my way out of a paper bag. All part of my Keeper upbringing. Unfortunately, my natural clumsiness is genuine, and so is my lack of love for violence. I can fight, and fight well. It’s just not something that comes naturally or that I enjoy. Even when I was Nice’s prisoner, fear always held me back. And he knew just how to use it to keep me tethered to his side, reading bad poetry, helping him shop online for ruffled shirts, telling him how much I admired his wiry body and long black locks.

The man is a monster.

At least I wasn’t mistreated sexually. Mr. Nice has a rule about not sleeping with humans (apparently they’re too fragile for his bedroom games), but he kept Stella from me. Those are years lost with my daughter, and I’ll never get them back. For that, he’ll pay.

How?

image 20 1024x1024 - Please help the Librarian : night time only!

Purchase:

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/book/the-librarians-vampire-assistant-book-5/id1531938933

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-librarian-s-vampire-assistant-book-5

AUTHOR BIO:

image 19 - Please help the Librarian : night time only!

MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF is a New York Times bestselling author who’s sold over one million books around the world. Although she obtained her MBA and worked for more than fifteen years in the corporate world, she believes that it’s never too late to come out of the romance closet and follow your dreams.

Mimi lives with her Latin lover hubby, two pirates-in-training (their boys), and their three spunky dragons (really, just very tiny dogs with big attitudes) Snowy, Mini, and Mack, in the vampire-unfriendly state of Arizona.

She hopes to make you laugh when you need it most and continues to pray daily that leather pants will make a big comeback for men.


Author links:

https://www.instagram.com/mimijeanpamfiloff/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5618190.Mimi_Jean_Pamfiloff

https://www.facebook.com/MimiJeanPamfiloff/

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Can you shop for a baby?

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Andrew and Amanda are BACK in the newest New York Times bestselling Shopping series book as they “beat” Declan and Shannon in the baby competition, but at what cost? As their future awaits them in the form of twins, Amanda and Andrew face ghosts from the past with wit, humor, and most of all — plenty of love.

SFACeoBaby IG teaser 2 - Can you shop for a baby?
SFACeoBaby IG teaser 1 - Can you shop for a baby?

Excerpts and Teasers:

#1

I look at my phone. Andrew.

I’ll be home for dinner. What do you want?

For the last few weeks, we’ve ordered takeout every single night, because I never know what my stomach will or won’t be able to handle. I close my eyes and ask myself what I want, and reply:

Grilled salmon with paprika. Cantaloupe. Sautéed carrots in honey and cumin.

He texts back: I see you’re sticking with the orange theme.

I send an emoji of someone an orange sticking out its tongue.

Will do, he replies. I’ll have Consuela make it and bring it home after the gym.

Then I get a heart.

Consuela owns a private restaurant in the Seaport District, the kind that you can’t know about unless you know someone who knows someone. It’s our special place, and since morning sickness has ravaged me, Consuela’s been gracious enough to meet my weirdo dietary needs.

She also takes it as a challenge. My palate has expanded considerably as a result of her driving mission to find new orange foods.

I reply with: You mean you’ll have Gina contact Consuela to do it all, and have Gerald pick it up and bring it to the house.

Same thing, he texts back.

“I love how you smile when you think about Andrew,” Mom says, making me look up from my phone.

“Huh?”

“You two are so in love.”

My smile broadens. “We are.”

She looks at my belly. “Those babies are very, very fortunate.”

“Billionaire’s kids,” I mutter.

“No. You could be penniless and they’d be so, so blessed. You and Andrew are going to be wonderful parents.”

“How do you know?”

Tenderness floods her face as she reaches for me. I stand and bend before her, her hand on my shoulder, eyes shining with something close to tears.

“Because you have such a good heart. You always did. You’re smart and sweet and you care about people and want to help them. And Andrew loves you deeply. I may not understand his ambition, but I do see that he’s a loving man.”

#2

Andrew

My wife is orange.

She is caked with orange dust, on her fingers, in her cuticles, and her lips are the color of a traffic cone. She’s in the kitchen, standing in front of the blender, drinking something–

You guessed it.

Orange.

Mmmmm,” she moans as she drinks straight from the blender itself. “Isss izz soooooo goooo.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Eeeto-eenie.”

“What?”

A swallow later and she says, “Cheeto-cini.” When my sister-in-law, Shannon, was pregnant with my niece, Amanda created a special orange smoothie for her out of Cheetos, marshmallow cream, and orange sherbet.

My wife has modified it to remove the sherbet and replace it with coocnut milk, which does nothing to change the fact that it’s vile to the core.

It’s just slightly less gross now.

“Another one?”

“It’s the only thing that stays down.”

“And the doctor really says this is okay?” I say, staying far away from the blender, knowing how territorial she is about her food. She’s pregnant and still stuck deep in morning sickness.

For the last few weeks, all she’s eaten is this.

Cheeto smoothie.

And nothing else.

“It’s full-fat coconut milk. One big leaf of kale.” She makes a gagging sound. “Apple juice. One banana. And Cheetos. I freeze the fruit and it tastes like a milkshake.”

“Our babies are made up of that.” At least she added the kale, banana, and apple juice this time.

“I choke down a prenatal vitamin, too, Andrew.” Her eyes tear up and her chin quivers.

Damn.

“It’s fine. Good. I’m so glad you can eat something. Really. Not judging you. I know you are doing everything possible for our babies.” I rub the spot between her shoulder blades, hoping I can calm her down before a full-blown meltdown kicks in.

“I am! Everything,” she says before gobbling down more of that candy corn-colored monstrosity. “I’ve lost two pounds. The doctor said the placenta looks fine and the babies are growing within range, but this morning sickness is horrible. If I drink water, I puke! If I drink this–” she points at the blender, “–I don’t.”

“Then by all means, drink that.” I hold back a shudder. My trainer, Vince, would have an unexpected coronary if he saw Cheetos in a Vitamix.

“I–I know I’m not doing this the way another wife would. A better wife. A wife who is stronger and who…” Her lower lip begins to quiver.

Here we go again.

#3

Amanda

I open my eyes, the words running through my head before I’m fully awake.

Twenty-three weeks, three days.

That’s my first thought.

The second is: I need to hump my husband.

Some impulse centers itself between my legs, turning me into a rocking nerve ending, my entire body so horny, it’s like some gene in me got flipped and my entire purpose in life is to orgasm in a continuous loop.

“Help,” I whisper to Andrew as I slide my bare thigh against his hair-covered one, his body gloriously nude, which only ratchets up my sex-crazed fever.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you to let me have sex with you again.”

One eye narrows, the other holding steady as I reach for him, finding him halfway to where I need him.

“Excuse me?”

“Can I please have sex with you again? I know we just did it–” I look at the clock, squinting to read the numbers, “–seven hours ago, but I–”

The kiss answers me.

“You don’t have to ask.”

“Of course I do! Consent is very important.”

His erection twitches in my hand, jumping slightly.

“There’s my consent.”

This isn’t slow sex. It’s fast and hard, the kisses hot, my legs parted and my body centered over him in seconds. The grinding need to have him touch the deep ache inside and unclench it is too furious, too intense to ignore.

I’m bent over him, hips rolling up, belly hardening with each curl as I ride, ride, ride to climax. My thighs pull him in deeper, knees pressing against his tight ass, my hands on his chest, his head bobbing up to suck one breast at the perfect moment of ecstasy, making me moan into eternity.

And then–snap. I’m done.

I climb off and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you!”

#4

Andrew

Vince grabs my hand before I can touch the forties I’m about to do curls with.

“What the hell is that?” He points to my orange cuticles.

“Cheeto stains.”

“You’re eating Cheetos?” He sounds like I just told him I cooked my father’s liver and ate it on a buttered croissant. Not sure whether he’d be more outraged at the patricide or the carb count.

“Not me. My wife.”

“Yeah, yeah. All my clients blame their partner. You’re on a strict program, Andrew. No chemicals, no grains, no–”

“Flavor,” Declan mutters under his breath as Gerald smirks. We’re working out at this shithole gym Vince likes, only this time is different.

Because I bought the place.

Declan’s not the only McCormick who can go out on his own and buy a company. No one, other than Amanda, knows I did this.

And don’t ask me why I did it.

Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three children in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Newsletter:  http://bit.ly/2PIBi9n

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/jkentauthor/

Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-kent

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3238619.Julia_Kent Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Julia-Kent/e/B00A99V268/

Purchase:

https://books.apple.com/us/book/shopping-for-a-billionaires-baby/id1195376110

https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/shopping-for-a-ceo-s-baby

Nook: https://geni.us/CEOsBaby_Nook

Google Play: https://geni.us/CEOsBaby_GP

BookBub: https://geni.us/CEOsBaby_BookBub

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Ingredients? tick…Magic? hmm

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EXCERPT – THE MAGIC INGREDIENT (BAR HARBOR HOLIDAY SERIES, #1)

BY LINDY MILLER

Part of eating a cupcake was the experience, and in Eve’s opinion, a little extra frosting on your face made it all the more gratifying. Her mouth filled with the taste of vanilla, chocolate, and marshmallow, all of the flavors intermingling just as she’d planned. Still, something seemed off. It wasn’t enough to toss the batch out, but in Eve’s opinion, the recipe hadn’t quite reached perfection.

Eve swallowed, wiping away the frosting from her nose. “It’s not perfect.”

“It’s incredible,” Jeff countered before he shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth.

He had a dollop of frosting on his nose, which made Eve smile despite her frustration at the recipe. “I don’t know if I believe your verdict, but at least you didn’t call it glitzy.”

Jeff mumbled something that sounded like idtellinguidperfek around the mouthful of pastry.

“Something is missing. Something small, a flavor that isn’t quite there. It’s not major, but enough that I notice.” Eve wiped her hands on a dishcloth and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration. “I don’t know why I can’t get it right. Maybe I’m not as great a baker as I think I am. It shouldn’t take so many tries to get a recipe correct. Not if you know what you’re doing.”

Jeff wiped his face and leveled his gaze at Eve as he stepped closer. “I don’t think that’s true at all. You’re a fantastic baker. You’re a fantastic lot of things.”

He was so close now Eve could smell his scent—musky and warm, with notes of pine and sandalwood. An inviting smell. Eve wondered how she’d never noticed it before. Then again, the more she felt drawn to Jeff the more she’d tried to keep her distance, kind of like reaching her goal—one step forward, two back.

“Really?” she asked, hoping she sounded interested and not incredulous. She didn’t want to offend someone offering her a compliment, even if she didn’t believe it. “I try so hard and I feel like I come up short.”

“Doing everything on your own isn’t easy, and I can see how you might think that you’re failing, but you’re looking at the situation the wrong way.”

Eve shook her head and kept her eyes downcast, even when Jeff’s hand found her shoulder, sliding down to cup her upper arm. His touch sent a tingle down her flesh and she resisted the urge to look up.

“Is there another way?”

“Instead of focusing on what you’re not doing well, think of all the things you are amazing at. Try to see yourself as …”

He paused.

Eve wondered if he’d changed his mind about whatever it was he was going to say.

Jeff cleared his throat and started over. “Try to see yourself the way I see you. Like Candy does, and Doris and Annie. And Bapo, for what it’s worth.”

Eve snickered, despite herself. “You’re never going to get tired of ribbing him, are you?”

“Never.” Jeff’s hand slid further down her arm to rest on her elbow. “My point remains.”

The place where Jeff’s hand rested on her arm pulsed. “How do you all see me?”

“We see someone who works hard every single day, around the clock, never taking any time for herself. Who gives her all to everything she does, even when it seems impossible, and who makes everyone feel needed and wanted when she’s around simply by being there.” Jeff stepped in closer. His heat brushed up against her chest. “It isn’t about finding the perfect recipe for a new confection or keeping the family business around for another generation, Eve. It’s about you. You make Mount Desserts worth saving. And I believe in you. We all do, even if you don’t believe in yourself.”

When Eve finally looked up, she found herself staring into Jeff’s eyes. They were warmer and sweeter than any chocolate ganache she’d ever made.

His free hand found its way to her other elbow and she allowed herself to be drawn from the counter. Jeff pulled her into his embrace, his hands releasing her elbows to slide around the small of her back, holding her close.

There was no denying the butterflies now.

Author information

Lindy - Ingredients? tick...Magic? hmm

Lindy Miller is an author of feel-good love stories that are full of sweet moments and happy endings. She believes the best time to fall in love is during the holidays, preferably over a cup of warm tea or a delicious vegan pastry – two things she can’t get enough of.

A free spirit, Lindy loves to travel and has a soft spot for Bar Harbor, Maine though she grew up at home in the South. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and bakes as often as she can for her husband, son, and pets – especially her golden retriever, Finn, who has a tendency to show up in her stories (and her Instagram!)

Lindy is represented by Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management and supported by Smith Publicity.

Member Romantic Novelist Association (RNA).

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Add a snowy cat please!

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Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/isbn9781496729910
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/snowball-s-christmas
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Kristen_McKanagh_Snowball_s_Christmas?id=_SPFDwAAQBAJ

Kristen - Add a snowy cat please!

AUTHOR BIO:

Sweet contemporary and Amish romance author Kristen McKanagh grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing) and an MBA. However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it. Kristen also writes award-winning steamy contemporary romance as Kadie Scott, and award-winning paranormal and YA fantasy romance as Abigail Owen. No matter the genre, she loves to write happily-ever-afters that shine with home, heart, and humor. Kristen currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own swoon-worthy hero husband and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.


Author links:

https://kristenmckanagh.com/
https://www.facebook.com/Abigail.Owen.Books

https://www.instagram.com/kristenmckanagh/

https://abigailowen.us6.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=f775e71a59245b6625406807c&id=930c5db34d

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kristen-mckanagh

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