Barnes & Noble buyer Jules Herbert is a driving force behind the selection in Barnes & Noble’s romance section. Here’s his list of recommendations for the month of August. Stock up now and get as much reading in as you can before the new school year starts!
Enter to win a pretty Paris-themed box filled with goodies, including a notebook with the cover of Traitor in Her Arms, a guillotine necklace, a beret, witty postcards, a Marie Antoinette bookmark, a crown bookmark, a Marie Antoinette gift tag, and an antique-looking skeleton key.
The Bachelor meets The Runaway Bride in this addictive romance novel about a reality TV producer falling for her would-be star: a Montana heartthrob who wants nothing to do with the show.
“We’ll double the original offer.”
He didn’t even blink.
“Twice as much,” she said.
“Yes, I’m aware what ‘double’ means.”
“It’s a lot of money,” she said. “And like I said earlier, if money’s not important to you, just think what it could do for the town, should you decide to donate it.”
Luke took a sip of beer and said nothing.
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you even remember what the first offer was?”
“Didn’t forget, I just . . . never read it in the first place.”
She scowled. “I spent a lot of time on those emails.”
“Well, you wasted your time. I never made it past the second sentence.”
Luke moved so quickly she gasped when he stepped toward her, crowding her space. Her surprise had her rocking backward, her spike heels sinking all the way into the grass and throwing her off-balance.
He reached out quickly, a palm against her back. His touch steadied her stumble even as it sent her heart racing.
“I’m only going to say this once more, City, so listen up,” Luke said in a low growl, his breath warm on her face. “I don’t care how much money’s on the table. I don’t care if your ‘handpicked’ women are all Victoria’s Secret models with degrees in neuroscience who run charities in their spare time. I’m not, nor will I ever be, interested in being a part of your show. So you can prance your high heels and your tight ass right back to New York City and leave me and my town in peace.”
He released her so quickly she nearly stumbled again, although she was pretty sure her unsteadiness had more to do with the thrum of her awareness of being so close to Luke than it did the stilettos.
Jordan should call a gracious defeat. She knew that. Knew that she could go back to the drawing board, find a contestant for Jilted who wasn’t so damn stubborn and resistant, and yet . . .
It was exactly that stubbornness, that pent-up resentment, that didn’t just make him the ideal candidate—it made him the only candidate, at least as far as Jordan was concerned. There was nothing more appealing than the idea of taming the man who couldn’t be tamed. The more forbidden fruit their contestant appeared, the more viewers would be salivating for him to fall in love.
This show might not have been Jordan’s idea. She could even admit to herself that it was ridiculous, but she also knew she could make it a hit, and the key was Luke Elliott.