fuonlyknew

Lifestyle: Trust Fall

By Kasey Fallon

Publication date: January 27th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

She needs a Dom.
A stalker wants to own her.

Grayson is a born Dominant – and owning LifeS is exactly where he belongs. With a new underground fight arena ready to launch, he’s missing only one thing: a fighter strong enough to survive it.

Lexi has survived worse.

Haunted by PTSD, Lexi trusts no one but herself. She runs her own gym, makes her own rules, and refuses to submit – to anyone. But beneath her iron control lies a perilous secret. One that threatens to consume her… unless she can find a Dom.

When Grayson and Lexi collide, desire isn’t the only thing at stake.

Someone is watching.
Someone wants Lexi.
And in the LifeStyle, submission can be salvation – or a deadly mistake.

Welcome to the LifeStyle.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

LEXI

She couldn’t seem to find the clasp, and her breath was coming in short bursts. Her shirt felt too tight, her scalp was tingling, and in some part of her brain she was dimly aware that she was having a panic attack.

The gentle ding of the door opening didn’t register with her until a tall shadow fell across her. Attempting to breathe in a four-count, Lexi glanced up for less than a heartbeat at the baritone hello. She grunted in return and went back to hyperventilating, wishing they would walk away.

GRAYSON

For a moment, he was confused why she was hunched over on the bench. She was struggling with something… a necklace? Her breathing was coming in quick, uneven pants, and her gaze went straight through him.

“Good morning,” he tried casually.

He still had in mind that perhaps something he’d done or said the other day had been too much and she’d run. He had to be a little more tame, he thought. Casually being stalked, even for just one morning, was bound to put anyone on edge. At least until she was one hundred percent in, and he figured out what to do with her. But his good morning went unanswered.

Lexi made a garbled sound in the back of her throat, and he wondered if she was the opposite of a morning person. Or maybe-

“Do you need help?”

Her only response was those quick panting breaths. Her movements got more frantic, and she went to stand. Grayson placed a hand as gently as he could on her shoulder.

“Alexis. What’s wrong?”

She knocked his hand away and took two running steps to get past him. Panic. Without thinking it through, he caught up to her in one step. Spinning her around by her shoulder, he ignored the elbow that skimmed his diaphragm as she flailed behind her.

Using his forward momentum, he walked her backward until her back was against the wall. The white concrete must have been cool on her back, but her breath continued in short pants and a red flush was spreading across her chest and up into her face. She brought her hands up in fists and he thought for a heartbeat he might have to hold them down or he’d get hit. But her fingers just curled themselves into the edges of his t-shirt, grabbing on to something unidentifiable inside him. He ignored it.

She was looking at him, but she wasn’t seeing him. Her dark eyes were wide and wouldn’t focus, looking everywhere but into his. Both of his hands pushed her back against the wall by her ribcage.

“Alexis. Breathe.”

He used a deeper voice, mindful of startling her. Of course, he mused, she couldn’t get much more worked up than she already was. Maybe there was no harm in using his Dom voice. Much deeper than his speaking voice and sharp, he tried to reserve it for situations that needed it. This qualified.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded.

Lexi jumped, but still didn’t look him in the eye. Her hands made their way to her throat, scratching at where her necklace lay. Grayson winced at the scratches. His voice whipped out.

“Stop.”

She stopped clawing at her own neck, but her breathing was still too fast.

“Breathe.”

It wasn’t working. He leaned forward, putting more of his weight against his arms. He slid his left forearm up between her breasts against her sternum, until his hand was splayed at the base of her throat, but he made sure to not actually touch her neck. She was having enough trouble breathing as it was.

One of her knees came up, and he pushed her thigh back with his knee against the wall, but it seemed like she didn’t even notice. Like the knee had been a reflex. He reached his right hand up to cup the side of her face and forced her face up to his.

“Look at me.”

It got through. Her breath was still heaving with shallow gasps, but she was looking straight up at him with wide eyes.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lexi shuddered slightly.

“I can’t breathe. It’s too tight.”

His eyes flicked down to the thin silver chain at her neck. It was actually a very long chain, and held only a thin butterfly at the end. His lack of response seemed to agitate her, and she clawed at her neck again, this time not even hitting the chain. He raised his left hand a couple of inches to block her own hands.

“Stop moving.”

Her eyes were watery, but she stopped moving. For someone who might not be an actual submissive, she was certainly… responsive.

“I don’t want to die again.”

Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. Her eyes pleaded up at him. Shocked, Grayson could only stare at her for a moment.

“Breathe. I won’t hurt you. Stop moving.”

His voice had gotten slower with the commands, and she seemed mesmerized by his unblinking stare. She finally stopped pushing against his hands and relaxed against the wall, taking rapid, shallow breaths.

With his left forearm holding her still up against her sternum, he used his left hand to grab at the chain’s little clasp. He didn’t want to look away from her. It was working; he was completely in charge. She was breathing more steadily, and he didn’t want to break their eye contact.

Grayson finally got it to release, although he thought some part of it might have snapped. He slid it off her neck and held it loosely in his hand, but he didn’t move otherwise. He didn’t think she’d noticed that the necklace was gone.

“It’s gone. Breathe.”

Lexi inhaled deeply, and he was finding it difficult to back away. She had responded so perfectly; exactly as he’d wanted her to. Maybe she wasn’t a Domme? Could she really be submissive under all this fight? His body took that moment to recognize that he had her securely pinned against a wall, and she was staring up at him, waiting. He could see the exact moment when she fought it off as her eyes snapped with clarity. Grayson heard footsteps coming at them fast as she blinked rapidly.

“Lexi! What the fuck? Who the fuck is this? Are you okay?” Eddie jogged up, his short dreads bouncing.

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About Author Kasey Fallon:

Kasey grew up on the East Coast, from Maine to North Carolina. She loves two things above all in nature: the water, and the forest. While she might not love her nightmares, they do inspire many of her works. A recipient of the Editor’s Choice Award from the International Library of Poetry, she writes across several genres. She and her dog can be found investigating new hiking trails, or curled up on the couch as he pushes her computer off her lap to make room for himself.

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Lifestyle: Trust Fall Blitz

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Fabulously Flawed

By Lynne Hancock Pearson

Publication date: November 15th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Small town. Big dreams. One renovation that changes everything.

After three years of climbing the corporate ladder, Carl can practically taste the corner office with his name on the door. However, caring for his injured grandmother takes precedence, forcing his return to Keeney. But not to stay. Career-wise, the small town is a dead end, and others have their eye on that corner office.

Trading boardroom strategy for work boots and hard hats, Carl rejoins Keeney Building Supply to work as a general contractor—temporarily. He’s made that clear to everyone, including Sylvie.

Years ago, they parted ways before their mutual attraction could ignite, and Sylvie moved on, partnering with a charming developer who shared her excitement for flipping houses. However, charm can be deceiving—the developer wanted only her money, not her heart, leaving her plans in ruins.

Carl steps in, offering friendship, ice cream, and a new opportunity for her own home renovation business. Sylvie’s spark returns, and their attraction kindles, but Carl keeps his distance.

With his grandmother well on her way to recovery, there’s nothing to keep him in the small town. His future is waiting, and it’s not in Keeney.

Or is it?

A workplace romance, Fabulously Flawed is a story of the messy beauty of falling for someone who challenges everything you thought you wanted: a would-be house flipper who clashes and connects with the driven project manager determined to escape the confines of small-town life.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Hoping Carl would indeed wind up at her place, Sylvie had spent the morning in a cleaning frenzy, and her kitchen shone. There were fresh, fluffy towels in the sparkling bathroom, vacuum tracks on the carpet, and most importantly, clean sheets on the bed. Afterward, she’d collapsed on the couch.

But then she didn’t like the placement of the living room furniture, so she’d arranged and rearranged it to look cozier, and placed candles artfully around the room. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Images of Carl naked and hovering over her had haunted her dreams. She had no doubt the reality would be even better.

Part of her dream came true about twenty minutes later.

Having told Carl to get comfortable, she’d gone into the kitchen to assemble a late-night snack. From the fridge, she pulled the cheeseboard she’d assembled that morning and the wine. And not her usual box of Okanagan Porchbanger. For this momentous night—at least she hoped it would be—she’d splurged on a higher-end bottle. On a waiting tray, she arranged the cheeseboard, plates, napkins, and two glasses of wine.

Carl sat on the couch, one arm draped along the back of the cushions. She’d been right about the candles because the soft light made his dark eyes shine. Transfixed by the invitation in his smile, she walked into the living room and promptly tripped.

Moving quickly, Carl leaped from the couch to catch the falling glasses, but not before the contents splashed across his face, to drip down his chest. Cheese, crackers, cornichons, and cured meats were scattered across the coffee table that Sylvie had relocated earlier that day. Holding the two glasses, Carl blinked drops of wine from his lashes.

Sylvie’s mouth hung open as she stared at him in dismay. “Oh my God! I am so, so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he said, smacking his lips. “I like a good rosé.” He set the glasses on the tray and took it from Sylvie’s hands. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Pain radiated from where her knee had connected with the stupid coffee table. It wasn’t bleeding, but she’d have a lovely bruise tomorrow. “No,” she replied, bending her knee experimentally. “I’m fine, but your shirt isn’t.” Soaked through in spots, the fabric was rapidly turning pink.

He took the tray into the kitchen and returned, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from the waistband of his trousers. “It’ll wash. But do you have a towel? I’d like to clean up a bit.”

After guiding him to the bathroom and handing him a towel, Sylvie went to clean up the mess. The good news was that nothing had broken, and only Carl had gotten wet. The bad news was…she sucked at seduction. He probably had an Uber on the way, ready to make his escape. She scooped the remains of her carefully planned evening off the coffee table and got down on her knees to retrieve tiny pickles from under the couch.

She turned to look when Carl returned, and her mouth hung open again. Hands shoved into his trouser pockets, and shirtless, he was a sight to behold. A smattering of hair covered his pectoral muscles and arrowed down his taut belly. The slopes and dips that defined the muscles of his arms and chest called to her, and she rose from the floor, knowing she was staring and not caring a bit.

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About Author Lynne Hancock Pearson:

Lynne Hancock Pearson writes fun, flirty, feel-good fiction that simmers at low heat. Set in the Pacific Northwest, they are stories of people finding their way, even if it takes a while to get there.

She lives near Seattle with two and a half finicky felines and one long-suffering husband. She is a left-handed middle child who grew up in the Great White North and is a proud member of the Métis Nation of Canada.

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Fabulously Flawed Blitz

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The Champagne Crush

By Caroline O’ Connell

(Les Femmes Series)
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

For fans of Emily In Paris (on Netflix). “Pop the cork on this sparkling romance where champagne dreams and career schemes collide in the vineyards of Napa and the glamour of New York. Catherine Reynolds is ready to reinvent herself, but a flirty CEO, fizzing ambition, and a splash of betrayal shake up her plans. From vineyard drama to high-stakes PR, love and bubbles rise to the top. Perfect for fans of witty banter, slow-burn tension, and second chances with a twist.” —Los Angeles Book Review

Catherine Reynolds has enjoyed a life of luxury, but her diplomat parents have cut her off financially, leaving her flat broke. She is determined to turn things around and gain her independence—so, when an old family friend offers her a lifeline as a PR consultant for his sparkling wine company, she jumps at the chance. But working with Chris McDermott, the company’s sexy, stubborn president, is anything but easy.

A purist at heart, Chris clashes with Catherine’s glitzy marketing flair; still, the chemistry between them is undeniable. As they travel from New York to Napa, Paris, and the Champagne region of France, their partnership blossoms amid high-stakes industry rivalries and a launch that could make or break them.

When sabotage threatens to shatter their dreams, Catherine must dig deep to prove her worth. With the dazzling unveiling of their new sparkling wine in Bordeaux in jeopardy, will she and Chris overcome the challenges of the past and present to secure their future—and find love in the process?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Scene in the Champagne Region of France.

Catherine rode up front with Frédéric. The short drive from Trianon to Hautvillers, a picturesque “high village,” took them up a narrow, winding road barely changed for centuries. Along the route, they passed well-preserved ancient buildings, some displaying forged-iron signs from a different era. Frédéric pulled up to the Abbey of Hautvillers. The small historic church overlooked fields of vineyards in the valley below.

“For Champenois,” Frédéric said, “this is considered the birthplace of champagne. Other regions were experimenting with sparkling wine, but this was the place in France, in Champagne.”

He led them to a patio where an ice bucket and three flutes sat on a small table. “Let’s take a moment to savor a good French champagne, while I tell the story.” He pulled a bottle of Moët’s Dom Pérignon out of the ice bucket and opened it. “It’s appropriate to drink this champagne, since Moët & Chandon named their prestige blend after Dom Pérignon.” He filled the flutes. “Let’s toast.”

Frédéric began. In 1668, a young Benedictine monk, Pierre Pérignon, became cellarmaster of the Abbey at Hautvillers. Dom was a title given to certain Benedictine monks, so he was called Dom Pérignon. At the time, the abbey was making still wine.

Hautvillers, in the Falaises de Champagne, has a cool northern climate. Pérignon noticed when the weather turned warm in spring some bottles of wine became effervescent. By accident, they had gone through a second fermentation, creating bubbly wine. Through trial and error, Pérignon determined that wine yeast went dormant in cold temperatures. In spring, the remaining leftover yeast initiated another fermentation, creating the bubbles.

“We’re talking about a lot of bubbles,” Frédéric said. He explained the bottles couldn’t withstand the additional pressure. Many bottles shattered or the wood plugs popped out, causing spillage. Eventually, Dom Pérignon came up with a cork plug to hermetically seal the bottles, trapping the bubbles in.

“There were still many broken bottles,” Frédéric laughed, “until they devised a way to make stronger bottles.” Future champagne producers learned how to create the millions of bubbles in each bottle by adding yeast to the blended still wine for the second fermentation.

“A sip to celebrate this monk and his gift to the world.” Frédéric lifted his flute. Chris thoroughly enjoyed Frédéric’s description. Catherine seemed mesmerized and made a few notes.

“Pérignon devoted his life to the abbey until he died in 1715,” Frédéric said. “And now, let’s pay our respects.” He led them into the small church to view Dom Pérignon’s tombstone.

They walked back to the car in contemplative silence. Frédéric checked his phone. “We have time to drive by the church in Reims, if you’d like to see it.”

“I’d love to,” Catherine said. “My parents were married at Notre-Dame de Paris, a similar Gothic cathedral.”

Traffic was light. They arrived in Reims, the capital of Champagne, thirty minutes later. Frédéric pulled up to the plaza in front of the cathedral. He gestured to the edifice. “This church has an important historical significance in France. Starting in the thirteenth century, it was chosen for the coronation of French kings”—he paused—“for six hundred years.”

“That’s a long time,” Chris said.

“One of the most famous coronations was the crowning of Charles the Seventh in 1429, attended by Joan of Arc. Jeanne d’Arc, in French,” he added. “Unfortunately, not long after, she was captured by the English and put to death for helping French fighters during the Hundred Years’ War.”

“Sad story,” Catherine said. She stepped out of the car and took a few photos of the facade.

When she got back in, Frédéric drove a few miles to their destination. It was clear the main business of Reims was champagne. Markers indicating numerous champagne houses, including Taittinger and Veuve Clicquot, popped up along the route. Right before the approach to Les Crayères, they passed a sign for Pommery Champagne.

Frédéric pulled into a parking spot. “We’re here.” He got out of the car to see them off.

“Thank you, Frédéric, for making us feel so welcome,” Chris said. “You’ve been a great host and guide.” Chris shook his hand, and Catherine and Frédéric shared air kisses on both cheeks.

“You’ll have to visit us in New York sometime,” Catherine said.

“It’s my dream to go to the US,” Frédéric said. “En tout cas, I will see you in Bordeaux in June.”

“Yes, in two months,” Chris said.

As they walked up to the entrance, Chris stifled the urge to hold Catherine’s hand. She gave him his tie and pulled out a multicolored scarf that she wrapped around her neck.

Chris admired the breathtaking classic French château set in the midst of lush parkland. Yves texted he was running late, so they opted to wait in the bar. After perusing the carte of champagnes by the glass, Chris chose Pommery. Appropriate, since the château was built by that family. A brochure on the table relayed the history.

Les Crayères was built for Louise Pommery, the Duchess of Polignac, in 1904. Decades later, it became a twenty-room château for guests, boasting a gourmet restaurant and luxurious rooms overlooking manicured gardens. One reviewer called it “a Versailles in miniature . . . the stuff of honeymoons and weekend-away liaisons.”

Their flutes were served cold, the way he liked it. They tapped glasses before taking their first sips, very much in sync, like a couple. Chris was starting to sag after a busy day preceded by an early run, but Catherine seemed like the Energizer bunny; that is, if said rabbit wore a short slim dress showcasing killer legs, which he now knew could run like the wind.

Catherine set her glass down. “This is good champagne. Smart choice for the setting. The Pommerys built a lovely château.”

“This place is pretty spectacular,” he agreed, then couldn’t resist adding, “I know who I want to bring here for the two-night stay I won in the auction.”

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Excerpt from The Champagne Crush by Caroline O’Connell,
courtesy of SparkPress, an imprint of The Stable Book Group.

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About Author Caroline O’Connell:

CAROLINE O’CONNELL has written five travel guides and numerous travel articles for magazines, newspapers, and websites. Her Romance In Paris guide has won widespread praise: “There is no better person to guide you through Paris than Caroline” — Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective, radio host, and Travel Editor on CBS-TV. And Library Journal raved — “Reading this breezy but informative guide to Paris is like having a series of conversations with a well-traveled friend…”

Her debut novel, THE CHAMPAGNE CRUSH: A Romance Novel (Spark Press), is due out on September 16, 2025.

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Champagne for the Holidays Blitz

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Bad Crush on a Rockstar

By Kitt Henley

(Soulmates, #3)
Publication date: November 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A spicy brother’s-best-friend romance featuring a cinnamon roll rockstar hero haunted by his past, a plucky heroine with a childhood crush, slow seduction, hometown shows, and rapidly crumbling resolve.

She’s my best friend’s little sister, and she’s got a bad crush. But I’m the one who can’t stay away from her.

SEAN: When I first laid eyes on Brooke Halsey, she was just a sweet, freckle-faced kid with enormous glasses and an even bigger crush on me.

But there’s no denying she’s all grown up now.

She’s running the merch table while my rock band’s home on tour, and even though we’ve never been more than good friends, I know she’s game. I’d totally go for it too, if I didn’t already know I’d break her heart, destroy my band, and lose Jonah—our drummer, my best friend, and her brother.

He’s made it clear he does not want me messing around with his little sister. He knows Brooke’s serious about finding love and playing for keeps. So a rock musician with no fallback plan and no permanent address is the last thing she needs.

Which is why I’m in deep trouble right now…

Because last night…I kissed her.

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The Soulmates Series: Two bands. Three shows. Four happily ever afters.
Bad Crush on a Rockstar is a complete romance with no cliffhanger. This story can be enjoyed as a stand-alone or read as the third book in the Soulmates interwoven rockstar romance series.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Knock, knock,” Lexie croons through the curtain, her knuckles rapping at the edge of my bunk. “We’re just about there, if you need to pack up.”

“Thanks.” I slide the curtain to one side and sit up, swinging my legs over the edge as I rub my eyes. I peer through the large bay window at the Chicago skyline shimmering in the sun as we roll along the freeway.

Artie and our backup driver took shifts all night and all through the day to get us here. We usually sleep on the bus when we’re on tour, but since we’re here for several days, the label offered to put us up in a hotel. Anthony opted to stay at his family’s penthouse this week because it’s nearby and empty right now, but the rest of us were happy to accept. We all grew up here, so we could’ve crashed with family or friends, but using the hotel as a home base simplifies things. It gives us some space and privacy to decompress, and it also helps avoid some of the social demands of being back in town. I’m looking forward to having a little privacy and sleeping in a normal-size bed for a change.

I’m still organizing my bunk area as the bus turns down Michigan Avenue. I pick out some clothes for the week and stuff them into my large duffle bag.

We pull up in front of the hotel, and I sling my duffle over my shoulder.

“You kids have a good time, now, all right?” Artie calls back to us. “Be safe.”

“Will do. Thanks for the ride, Artie, and have a great rest of the week!” I lug my bag down the aisle and push open the side door.

A gust of cold air rushes inside, whipping the door panel from my grip and slamming it against the exterior of the bus.

“Whoa.” I step outside, holding an arm out to brace the door as the other two exit.

“Good old Chicago,” Lexie jokes.

I glance up toward the hotel. The Drake in downtown Chicago is a sight to behold. We’ve stayed here once before, but it still takes my breath away. This place is fancy. Sleek, clean lines of gleaming beige stone. This kind of extravagance is always a shock to my system.

The bellhop places our luggage on a cart, and the doorman holds the door for us, then we cross the smooth carpeted floor to the elegant front desk.

“Three reservations for Garrett Music Industries,” Jonah says to the man behind the counter, then he winks at Lexie.

I glance over to catch her reaction, but she’s staring straight ahead like nothing happened.

Something’s up with those two. But they’re always playing games and finding ways to compete with each other, so who knows what this is about.

My luggage shows up at the room just as I do, and I stretch out on the bed to relax for a minute before hopping in the shower.

The water’s hot and the pressure’s fantastic—about a thousand times better than on the bus. I let it run over my shoulders, easing the tension in my back. My mind is already shifting to Brooke. Seeing her tonight.

Because here’s the thing.

I love Brooke.

Not in a romantic way—at least, it’s never been that way between us. No, I love Brooke in an honest, good, and true kind of way. The way it feels when you realize you would do anything for a person. That you would always be there for them, no matter what.

Brooke’s done that for me too, right from the start. She noticed I was struggling with school and offered to help. When she found out I wanted to start playing bass, she came up with a plan for me to earn enough money doing odd jobs so I could buy one off a friend.

From that very first day my family moved into their house, she was finding thoughtful things to do and making lighthearted jokes to keep the mood up. And it helped. It didn’t feel so awkward being there, living in their home and taking up their space.

She had this sweet, round face full of freckles and thick glasses that made her brown eyes look enormous—almost big enough to match her outsized personality. She was adorable.

But then she grew up.

It was hard not to notice, because once she started to develop, it happened fast. I remember Jonah and I were walking through the halls on the first day of senior year, and I was looking around for any cute new faces on campus. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted a girl with a pair of the most beautiful breasts I’d ever seen in my life.

I leaned toward Jonah, whispering, “Check it out, nine o’clock,” and angling a thumb at the hottie with the body that just wouldn’t quit.

“What the fuck, man?” Jonah scowled, his expression suddenly menacing. “Shut the fuck up!”

Imagine my horror when the hot little number turned to face me and I realized I was checking out Jonah’s little sister.

“Holy shit. I didn’t even recognize her with…uh…without her glasses on.”

It was too late. The damage was done.

Brooke was only fourteen, for God’s sake. I felt like a monster, but she smiled so big and came over to hug both of us. It was all I could do not to stare straight at those incredible breasts and wonder what the hell happened over the summer.

Jonah was chilly around me for days after, and I felt like a total ass. I’d never had a friend like Jonah, and I hated that I’d done something to damage our relationship. I had to apologize multiple times, but eventually he seemed to forgive me.

“Seriously, man. Hands off my sister,” he warned, and I nodded.

“For sure, man. I swear to God, I would never lay a hand on her.” I made him that promise, and I meant it.

But toward the middle of senior year, things got…complicated. Brooke and I had been spending a lot of time together at the library while she helped me study for midterms, and one afternoon she had on this short green dress that showed more of her cleavage than I was accustomed to dealing with. Still, I managed to keep my eyes off her chest and up toward her pretty face, for the most part.

She was reading me an excerpt from George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, but I couldn’t concentrate. There was this shiny gloss she had on, and it made that bottom lip look so juicy and delicious that I couldn’t stop staring at it. Just watching her beautiful mouth as she read was sending this tingle up and down my spine. My jeans felt tight, and I realized she was giving me a serious hard-on.

I cut our study session short and tried to adjust myself without anyone noticing. I booked it out of there so fast she must have wondered what the hell happened. I kicked myself all the way home, because what the fuck was I doing having sexual feelings for Brooke? She was my best friend’s little sister. I felt like the universe was playing some kind of cruel joke on me, putting such a wonderful young person inside that smoking hot body.

And she Just. Kept. Getting. Hotter.

Of course, by the time she was old enough for me to act on my feelings—assuming I would even go there, given she’s a good friend and Jonah’s sister and all, which I wouldn’t—it was clear Brooke was destined for better things than a guy like me. While I was off working odd jobs in construction and trying to get a band started, Brooke was completing the Visual Design program at Carnegie Mellon University on a full merit scholarship.

I never should have responded to her seductive tease on the phone today. She’s always playing around like that, flirting with me, and normally I keep it in check. But I got caught up in the moment, and when she took that sultry tone with me, I went with it. I played along with her sexy little game, because—let’s face it—Brooke is hot as hell, and it feels good to be wanted by her.

It feels way too good.

Which is exactly why I cannot be flirting with her. I don’t ever want to ruin the close friendship we have. Plus, she’s had a crush on me since middle school, and she’s naïve about love. She doesn’t realize I’m the last fucking thing she needs, so I can’t be toying with her emotions like that—getting her hopes up that something might happen between us when I know damn well it would never work.

She dreams of having kids someday, the sooner the better. She’s looking for something serious. Long-term. But I don’t have the kind of career that can support a family, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to repeat my dad’s mistakes—bringing children into an unstable financial situation.

No, if I keep this flirting shit up she’s gonna end up getting hurt, and I’ll only have myself to blame.

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About Author Kitt Henley:

Kitt Henley writes short, spicy contemporary romance with relatable characters, a touch of humor, and tons of heart. Never one to make it through a good romance (or cookie commercial) with dry eyes, Kitt’s heartstrings are easy to pull on. When she played in rock bands and crunched numbers in the Seattle tech world, those waterworks weren’t an asset, but after a friend suggested she try writing romance, everything clicked into place. From the moment she sat down to write her first novel, she knew she’d found her calling.

When she’s not wrangling words in her tiny bedroom office, Kitt loves to spend time with her high school best friend (a.k.a. her rockstar husband) and their two ridiculously funny boys. She’s still holding out hope for that family band someday, but in the meantime she’ll happily settle for camping trips, board games, long walks with friends, and watching lots and lots of thrillers.

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Her Filthy Enemy

By Adele Knight

(Her Sweet Seduction)
Publication date: November 28th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

What do you do when snowed in alone with an arrogant flirt?

Don’t walk in on him in the shower.
Too late.
I can’t look away, and Noah loves the attention.
But it doesn’t mean anything…
He’s the guy who never goes home alone, and I’m the shy book nerd whose idea of a good time is staying late at the library and binging on red licorice.
Noah thinks I’m so forgettable that he can’t remember my name, even though we share the same group of friends. So when the roads clear and our mutual friends finally turn up, including Eric—the sweet guy who wants to be more than friends—I’m determined to forget about water dripping off muscles and fists wrapped around…
But now Noah’s acting differently. Sitting close to me, touching me, calling me by my actual name…
It’s almost like he’s jealous, but that’s ridiculous.
Except, I swear the bathroom door was unlocked before I walked in.
Noah didn’t leave it open on purpose…or did he?

Contains MF, FF scenes, and an MMC who likes to watch.

This is a short and steamy novella in Her Sweet Seduction Series. Each novella is stand-alone with new characters and spicy scenarios to enjoy anytime—but especially fun as a bedtime treat.

Add to Goodreads / Now on Audio

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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About Author Adele Knight:

Adele Knight likes her red wine with chocolate and her sweet romances with lots of heat. Her spicy stories are a bedtime treat with enough spark to warm your sheets and alluring characters to make you beg for more.
When she’s not writing, Adele can be found lost in other fantasy worlds. Whether it’s a hairy beast and a talking candle-stick or black leather and heels, Adele loves her heroines feisty and her heroes irresistible.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Bookbub / Instagram / TikTok

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Her Filthy Enemy Blitz

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.