🌼🌸Sissy🌹🌷

Celebrity cooking show host Marni McGuire has seen it all. She’s been married—twice—and widowed and divorced. Now in her mid-fifties, she’s single. Happily so. She just needs to convince her pregnant daughter, Bella, of this fact. And maybe convince herself, too. Especially after Marni’s efforts to humor her determined daughter result in a series of disastrous dates that somehow prompt Marni to wonder if maybe the right man for her is still out there after all.

They say the mistakes of our past shape our future. That we’re molded from experience, from heartache, and from pain. What happens when your past is riddled with regrets? How do you see through the fog, to navigate the path to your future? One breath. One second. One minute. One hour. One day at a time, you learn to live with your unexpected odds.

Wells Whitaker was once golf’s hottest rising star, but lately, all he has to show for his “promising” career is a killer hangover, a collection of broken clubs, and one remaining supporter. No matter how bad he plays, the beautiful, sunny redhead is always on the sidelines. He curses, she cheers. He scowls, she smiles. But when Wells quits in a blaze of glory and his fangirl finally goes home, he knows he made the greatest mistake of his life.

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends. What I knew about Archie: He was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger. When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.

A new, sexy standalone novel from New York Times Bestsellers Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward.

Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now. Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived. Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello. Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock.

In the Virginia countryside outside of Washington, DC, Addy Wentworth was on a mission to make a new life for herself. When the opportunity arose, she settled in horse and wine country. Experiencing more than her fair share of tragedy and loss, she had plans for her future, one where failure wasn’t an option. And not just because people and cows were counting on her. She’d poured everything she had into her struggling vineyard, because once she’s in, she’s all in.

He was gorgeous, older and guarded. I knew he was trouble from the moment we locked eyes. We met at work, on my first day as a barista. He smiled, I melted...then he tasted my coffee and threw it away. Again, the next day, and the next. He hated the coffee, yet still came back. I knew his game. He called my coffee death in a cup. I called him god’s gift to women. I wasn’t lying.

Justin has a curse, and thanks to a Reddit thread, it's now all over the internet. Every woman he dates goes on to find their soul mate the second they break up. When a woman slides into his DMs with the same problem, they come up with a plan: They'll date each other and break up. Their curses will cancel each other’s out, and they’ll both go on to find the love of their lives. It’s a bonkers idea… and it just might work.

Lark Smith has always had a plan for her life: find a fantastic guy, create a marriage as blissful as her parents’, pop out a couple of kids, and build a rewarding career as an oncologist. Things aren’t going so well. For one, the guy didn’t work out. Theoretically, she’d love to find someone else, but it hasn’t happened. Two, she’s just been transferred out of Oncology for being too emotional. (Is it her fault she’s a weeper?) Three, her parents just split up. Deviating from the plan was … well, not in the plan. A potential solution comes from the foul-tempered surgeon Lorenzo Santini.