Excerpt Reveal: 'THE KNOCKED UP PLAN" by Lauren Blakely (Contemporary Romance)

THE KNOCKED UP PLAN by Lauren Blakely
	Genre: Contemporary Romance Publication Date: June 23rd 2017 Pre-Order
Description from Publisher:
There are three little words most guys don’t want to hear on the first date. Not those…I mean these… “knock me up.” This single gal has had enough of the games, the BS and the endless chase. I know what I want most, and it’s not true love. It’s a bun in the oven, and I’m not afraid to hit up my sex-on-a-stick co-worker to do the job. Ryder is gorgeous, witty and charming — and he’s also a notorious commitment-phobe. That makes him the perfect candidate to make a deposit in the bank of me. I won’t fall for him, he won’t fall for me, and there’s no way baby will make three. Right? **** There are four words every guy wants to hear on the first date — “your place or mine?” When my hot-as-sin co-worker makes me a no-strings-attached offer that involves her place, my place, any place — as well as any position — I can’t refuse. Besides, I've got my own reasons to take her up on her deal even with her one BIG condition. There’s no way I’ll want more from one woman than any position, any where, any night? Except . . . what if I do? Note: Be prepared to swoon and fan yourself from the heat! This full-length standalone contains lots of hot baby-making s-e-x, happy tears, naughty jokes and a hot, swoonworthy hero you will fall madly in love with.
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“Ooh, look! A new one just was added to the database,” Penny coos in excitement as she points to the screen. We’re gathered around my iPad at Speakeasy, our favorite Midtown haunt, perusing the latest offerings on a bank I’ve been in touch with in Manhattan. “He’s five-foot-nine. College educated. Plays the violin. And he has red hair,” Delaney reads, then runs her fingers over the ends of my hair. “Do you want little redheaded babies?” I laugh. “I think I’d like the choice whether they should have red hair or not, and clearly I’m only bringing recessive genes to the equation.” Penny swipes left dramatically as if the new donor is a Tinder no. “Anyone else? And are we ever going to see what they look like besides when they were five years old?” I shake my head. “In most cases, only childhood photos of donors are posted. Every now and then you hear of a woman who’s seen adult photos of her donor, but that’s highly unusual, and only allowed at a few, select banks. It’s actually quite rare to even see high school or college photos, since a lot of donors only do it because it’s anonymous.” Penny points to the screen, reading another donor’s profile in frustration. “Look. This guy is six feet, has blue eyes, played hockey in high school, went to UCLA, and works in tech. But what does he look like?” “Unfortunately, we’re just going to have to imagine,” Delaney says, with a heavy sigh. Penny reaches for her red wine. “That makes me so sad I need a drink.” “And let’s be honest, looks do matter,” Delaney adds. I nod vigorously. “They do. That doesn’t make me vain, right?” My girls shake their heads in unison, defending my stance. “We all want a cute elephant baby for our matriarchy,” Penny says, patting my hand. I laugh. “But seriously. You think it’s reasonable to want a handsome donor, right? In addition to all the other things that are obviously critical. Not a serial killer. No criminal record. College degree. Height, etcetera, etcetera.” “Absolutely,” Penny says, setting her wineglass down with a resounding smack. “How are you possibly supposed to say a green-eyed, five-foot-ten, college-educated man with no murder convictions is enough?” “It’s like online shopping without seeing what you’re buying,” Delaney adds. “Who buys anything on the Internet without seeing a photo? You don’t shop for shoes just by the size, color, and style. You need to see them. Try them on.” “I don’t think trying on is an option.” I wink. Delaney sticks out her tongue. “But you need to see the goods. You can’t fly blind.” I reach for my water. No more chardonnay or mojitos for this mama-to-be. I’ve had all my health screenings, too, and my doctor sees no reason why I can’t get pregnant. All I need is the other half. “I just wish I knew more about these men.” Penny peers at the site’s latest offerings once more. “This is crazy. You can select whether someone has skills in auto mechanics, plumbing, or kickboxing. You can choose if your donor has detached earlobes, a particular kind of eye spacing, and his favorite subject in school. You can even opt for someone who’s a good cook. But you can’t see if his jawline is actually square, if his lips are truly full, or if he’s as handsome as you’ve dreamed.” I scrunch my forehead and imagine my dream candidate. Briefly, my mind is blank, but then an image pops into my head. “I just wish I knew the guy was going to be a Ryder Lockhart level of hot,” I say, matter-of-factly. “Oh, he is a hottie,” Penny says, and Delaney nods her agreement. They’ve both met him at my work events and the occasional group happy hour. “He’s gorgeous. Just the other day I found myself cataloging his features. He really does have it going on. Plus, he’s smart and funny and good to animals.” Penny hums mournfully. “Too bad he’s not a donor.” “Ha. Yeah, it’s a bummer he hasn’t made a deposit at this sperm bank.” I tap the screen. “I’d order up one serving ASAP. Get that turkey baster inside me stat,” I bark as if I’d be saying that to the nurses while I tell them to shoot me up with Ryder Lockhart’s DNA. Wait. Ryder Lockhart’s DNA. The clouds part. The sun rises. The bells ring. Never have three words sounded more like a perfect solution to a problem.

About the Author: Lauren Blakely
Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that's full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With ten New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than fifty times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire as well as standalone romantic comedies like BIG ROCK and MISTER O, which were both instant New York Times Bestsellers. In the fall she'll release WELL HUNG, another romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter, laurenblakely.com/newsletter!

EXCERPT: "Other Breakable Things" by Kelley York and Rowan Altwood (Young Adult Romance)

OTHER BREAKABLE THINGS by Kelley York and Rowan Altwood
	Publisher: Entangled: Teen Genre: Young Adult, Romance Publication Date: April 4th 2017
Description from Publisher:
According to Japanese legend, folding a thousand paper cranes will grant you healing. Evelyn Abel will fold two thousand if it will bring Luc back to her. Luc Argent has always been intimately acquainted with death. After a car crash got him a second chance at life—via someone else’s transplanted heart—he tried to embrace it. He truly did. But he always knew death could be right around the corner again. And now it is. Sick of hospitals and tired of transplants, Luc is ready to let his failing heart give out, ready to give up. A road trip to Oregon—where death with dignity is legal—is his answer. But along for the ride is his best friend, Evelyn. And she’s not giving up so easily. A thousand miles, a handful of roadside attractions, and one life-altering kiss later, Evelyn’s fallen, and Luc’s heart is full. But is it enough to save him? Evelyn’s betting her heart, her life, that it can be. Right down to the thousandth paper crane.
Excerpt:
We creep through old warehouses and through a wing of the hospital until padlocked doors obstruct us. Across the road is another building, pitch black inside thanks to the boarded-up windows, and seems to have been some sort of cafeteria or hall for events. I stop in the middle of the wide, linoleum-covered room, turn to Evelyn, smirk…and turn off the flashlight. She lets out a startled yelp, and I jog back a few steps as she reaches wildly for me. “That’s not funny!” she shrieks, but there’s a laugh at the tail end of her words. I hear her footsteps coming toward me and move away, keeping just out of her grasp. “Sounds pretty funny to me. C’mon. Hide and seek and we don’t even need a hiding spot.” As long as I can hear her voice, as long as I know she’s not actually freaking out, this can be fun. We dance around the room in the dark, calling to each other and making our voices echo into the abyss.She tags my arm and runs away, leaving me to chase after her this time. I can envision her in the darkness, her hair starting to fall from its tie, and now and again when I reach for her, I feel the arch of her back, the curve of her hip, before she twists away from me again. I let her stay out of my grasp until I’m at my physical limit. When I catch her, it’s with an arm latching around her waist and dragging her to me so quickly our legs tangle together and we tumble to the floor in an attempt to regain our footing. Evelyn sags back against me, full of breathless giggles. Iclick the flashlight back on and shine it in her face, refusing to focus on the fact that I can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she catches her breath. “See? Told you it would be fun.” “What would you have done if I hadn’t come along?”she asks, twisting around and batting at the flashlight to get it out of her eyes. “Played tag by yourself?” “Maybe.” I redirect the beam onto my face instead. “I would’ve been a better opponent to play against.” She laughs and gets up, offering her hands to me.My chest is tight and my lungs hurt a little. Today has definitely been pushing it too far. It’s the only reason I actually take the offered help to get to my feet. “Did I wear you out?” she teases. “You have no idea.” I motion for her to follow. It’s getting late and we still have driving to do tomorrow when the sun comes up to cover as many miles as we can. We’ve been messing around for hours. I lost track of time. Except I don’t head straight for the car. Close by is one last building I want to check out: a series of dorms where the Navy Seals used to stay. At least eight floors of tiny apartments smaller than the size of my bedroom back home. We trek upstairs to the top floor and Evelyn pauses at the railing, tilting her head to look up at the sky. We have the same beautiful view as I had from the second floor of the first building we explored. All stars. All sky. Nothing else.

About the Authors:
Kelley York and Rowan Altwood are a wife and wife writing team living in central California with their daughter and way too many cats. Kelley is the author of Hushed, Made of Stars, and Modern Monsters, and Other Breakable Things is Rowan’s debut.
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💑 RELEASE & EXCERPT: "Romeo and What's Her Name" by Shani Petroff (Young Adult Romance)

ROMEO AND WHAT'S HER NAME by Shani Petroff
	Publisher: Swoon Reads Genre: Young Adult Romance Publication Date: February 7th 2017
Other Books by SHANI PETROFF
Description from Publisher:
Understudies never get to perform . . . which is why being Juliet’s understudy in the school’s yearly “Evening with Shakespeare” is the perfect role for Emily. She can earn some much-needed extra credit while pursuing her main goal of spending time with Wes, aka Romeo, aka the hottest, nicest guy in school (in her completely unbiased opinion). And she meant to learn her lines, really, it’s just: a) Shakespeare is HARD, b) Amanda, aka the “real” Juliet, makes her run errands instead of lines, and c) there’s no point because Amanda would never miss the chance to be the star of the show. Then, Amanda ends up in the hospital and Emily, as the (completely unprepared!) understudy, has to star opposite the guy of her dreams. Oops?
Excerpt
I stood there like a lump, waiting for my line. Finally, I turned toward Kayla and repeated, “I said, LOUDER-ETH.” She fed me the line again. Supercrazy loud this time. “I would not for the world.” It was so loud, the crowd heard it and started to laugh. Not the snickers from before, but those evil, full belly laughs people get when watching home videos of someone getting kicked in the groin. Wes was going to hate me for putting him through this. This torture needed to end. “Methinks,” I said, “I could use-eth a book-eth.” Come on, Kayla. Take the hint. “You know-eth. A BOOK-ETH where-est I can recite-eth beauteous words to thee . . . thou . . . whatever. I NEED THE BOOK-ETH.” As I was shouting that last book-eth, I got my wish. The script came sailing from off stage left and hit me in the back of the head. “Ow,” I unintentionally yelled, to the delight of the crowd. It weighed a ton. “Sorry,” Kayla whispered. “My bad.” I didn’t care. I’d get over the pain faster than the embarrassment I was suffering. I was just happy to have the script. At least I was until I realized Kayla hadn’t bookmarked the page I needed. It was the complete works of Shakespeare. There was no way I would find the right page. Not to mention that since the book was with me, Kayla couldn’t even feed me lines anymore. R&J wasn’t a tragedy. My life was. I was so flunking English. “Would thou like some help, my sweet Juliet?” Did Wes just call me sweet? I swung around to face him, but I wasn’t paying attention to where I was stepping and my foot went right off the balcony. Wes lunged forward to catch me, but why would anything go right for me? So instead of Wes stopping me from hitting the floor, I took him down with me. I was lying on top of Wes Rosenthal. Only, this was not like any of my daydreams. This was mortifying. I rolled off him and jumped up. “Are you okay?” I was visibly shaking. Wes stood up, too. “Don’t worry-eth, Juliet,” he said without any anger in his voice. He even smiled at me. For a second I thought that meant he didn’t hate me for the craziness I was causing. But then I remembered he was acting. He actually took what he was doing seriously, and right now his part called for him to be in love with Juliet. Wes said some line I assumed was to get us back on track. But I had no response. I couldn’t take it anymore. The laughter of the audience. The panic coursing through my body. The thought of making Wes suffer more. It needed to end. So I did the only thing I could think of—something super Elizabethan. I put the back of my and to my forehead, pretended to swoon, and let my whole body fall back to the ground with a loud thump. “I am so sorry-eth, Romeo.” “It’s okay.” He sat down on the ground next to me and took my hand. I felt little sparks fly through me. I shook my head. I couldn’t let him go through this anymore. “No, I know how-eth this play end-eth. I think I shall stab-eth myself now to save-eth us both.” “Finally,” someone in the audience yelled out. I picked up an imaginary dagger and began to plunge it into my heart. “No,” Wes said, stopping me before I committed imaginary suicide. “Our story is not over yet. So let’s just say, ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night ‘til it be morrow.’” I was pretty sure that was supposed to be my line. But I decided I probably shouldn’t point that out. Then he stood up and walked off the stage. After a moment, someone finally took mercy on me and brought the stage lights down. The scene was over. But I knew all too well that my embarrassment was just beginning.

About the Author: Shani Petroff
Shani Petroff is a writer living in New York City. She's the author of the “Bedeviled” series, which includes Daddy’s Little Angel, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Dress, Careful What You Wish For, and Love Struck, and is the co-author of the "Destined" series which includes Ash and Ultraviolet. She also writes for television news programs and several other venues. When she’s not locked in her apartment typing away, she spends a whole lot of time on books, boys, TV, daydreaming, and shopping online.
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