fuonlyknew

Pity Please

by Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series, #7)
Publication date: October 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

She had a foolproof plan. He thought his future was sealed. Neither of them imagined life would take them down a different path …

Allie

I never planned to live in Elk Lake again, but here I am. I was going to get married, have a great family and career, and then I’d get my happily-ever-after stamped on the passport of my life.

But Brett cheated and got his mistress pregnant with quadruplets. Karma was my consolation and believe me when I tell you, I couldn’t have been more satisfied by the outcome.

Just as I was busy with my fresh start, Noah Riley walked back into my life. I’ve always worshipped my best friend’s older brother, but he never noticed me.

Until that one day …

Noah

What coach gets demoted after taking their high school basketball team all the way to third in the state? Me, that’s who.

I could have gotten any other job in Chicago, but my anger and hurt pride caused me to accept a position at my alma mater. That’s right, I’m the new basketball coach of the Elk Lake Crappies. Don’t think the irony is lost on me.

My goal is to make a splash with my new team, and then have my old school beg to hire me back. Of course, I won’t accept until there’s an appropriate amount of groveling, along with a substantial pay raise.

When I moved to Elk Lake, I never expected to run into my sister’s best friend from childhood.

Who knew Allie Rogers would make me reconsider my dream?

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Instead of agreeing that I should be the captain of my own ship, my mother laments, “I always thought your life would turn out like one of those delightful romcoms from the nineteen nineties. You know, single girl meets the love of her life in a quirky, yet totally believable way …”

I’m not sure which movie she’s thinking of as I’ve grown up watching them all with her. On repeat.

“Which Julia Roberts character did you envision me being? If it’s Vivian Ward in Pretty Woman, I’ll have to move to LA and become a sex worker first.” My mom pushes out of my arms and stares at me in horror.

Instead of letting the subject drop, I feel a burst of indignant steam start to build. “If you want me to be like Anna Scott in Knotting Hill, I’ll also have to move to LA, but this time I’ll have to figure out how to become a movie star. Then I’ll need to find an abusive boyfriend so I can cheat on him with a bookstore owner in London.” How does she find these to be believable scenarios?

Hurt tinges her voice as she responds, “What about Jules Potter in My Best Friend’s Wedding?”

“She didn’t even wind up with the guy!” I shout.

“How about the Runaway Bride?” This woman is relentless.

“I would have to get engaged three times so I could dump three men before my true love showed up to write an article about my chaotic life,” I remind her.

My mom’s face screws up in an agonizing expression like she’s painfully wracking her brain. “Maybe not a Julia Roberts movie then. What about Sandra Bullock? Her romcoms were more girl-next-door, which is exactly what you are.”

Raising my hand into the air, I start ticking off fingers. “While You Were Sleeping would involve nearly killing someone in a train accident so I could lie to the victim’s family and fall for his brother. In Miss Congeniality, I’d have to be an FBI agent masquerading as Miss New Jersey. Hope Floats would get me that husband and child you so badly want me to have but said husband would have to dump me on national television before running off with my best friend. Do you want me to go on?” I demand.

Confusion riddles my mom’s features resulting in my feeling an unexpected wave of compassion for her. “I don’t want any of that for you. I just want you to have a beautiful and happy ending to your story.”

“My story is a long way from being over, Mom.” I’m not going to tell her that my vision of the future is nothing like what she’s hoping for. As in, I’m pretty sure I’ll never let myself be vulnerable enough to give love a second chance. I know for certain I will never have my own children. Three lost pregnancies are enough for me to take the hint.

My mother inhales deeply before telling me, “I’m not good at leaving things in the hands of fate.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the worst control freak I know, but that doesn’t mean you’ve been appointed God and get to make all the decisions for my life.”

“I don’t want to make all the decisions. I just want you to start living again!”

“I’m enough on my own, Mom. I don’t have to be a wife to have value.” I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings again, but what else can I do? It’s like we’re two different species with zero understanding of how the other works.

With hands on hips, she demands, “What’s your five-year plan?”

“To still be breathing,” I tell her honestly.

“Do you ever want to get back into publishing?”

I offer a brief shrug. “Can’t say.”

“Do you plan on working at Rosemary’s for the rest of your life?”

“Would there be anything wrong with that? Would you not be able to love me anymore if I don’t get the Hollywood ending you’ve always imagined for me?”

My mom’s face turns bright red, which is a sure indicator she’s about to lose her cool. But instead of screaming at me, she merely turns around and strides out of the dining room like she’s on her way to execute a military coup. Napoleon had nothing on this woman.

I take her reaction to my question to mean that her love is dependent on my capitulation to her vision. Well, too freaking bad, Margaret. I’m not going to try to make you happy when I don’t even know what will make me happy.

My phone pings before I can stand up and clear the remnants of my uneaten breakfast. Picking it up, I click on the message notification and read a text from Lorelai.

Lorelai: Noah is driving me crazy! I’ve been asking him to put my navy-blue cashmere sweater in the mail for a week, and he hasn’t done it. Would you mind going over to my parents’ house and sending it? The key is under the mat.

My nervous system responds by causing me to break out into a cold sweat. I do not want to see Noah Riley. To be honest, I hate that he’s moved back to Elk Lake. There is no place in my life for my childhood crush. He’s part of my past and I will not go out of my way to run into him again.

Having said that, Lorelai is my best friend, and she never asks for anything. Shoot! I’m going to have to do it. I’ll just have to make sure to go when Noah isn’t there.

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About Author Whitney Dineen: 

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

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Never Marry the Best Man

by Julia Kent

(Whatever It Takes, #4)
Publication date: September 9th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

There’s no way the hot relative of a minor British royal is hitting on her. She’s misreading everything, right?

Except there’s no mistaking that proposal.

When 50something Ranney Martini (yes, Nessa’s mom!) finds herself being courted by the very English best man in a minor royal’s wedding she’s managing, she can’t help but laugh. He’s 17 years her junior, smoking hot, and an award-winning architect. The flirting is all in her imagination.

Of course it is.

But when a strange twist of fate leaves them trapped in Las Vegas, and Tom has a sudden need for American citizenship – faster than fast – Ranney proves she’s the consummate professional.

Because when you’re a wedding protector, you do whatever it takes to make the perfect wedding.

Even marrying the very handsome best man.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Tom cleared his throat.

“I know you’re on the clock, and this is a mess, but Jack’s with Chunk and we have no idea what’s happening next. Emergency rooms take hours, so we have some time. What would you like to do? Are you hungry? Shall we get some dinner? I’ve never seen Las Vegas before. Shall we take a look around?”

“From what I’ve seen of your work, I don’t think you’re going to like the aesthetic here very much.” Ranney had only been there once before, with Carmine, for some sort of packaging expo. She’d spent most of her time by the hotel pool and therefore avoided the stereotypical Vegas experience. The desert weather had been lovely, the hotel food was exceptional, and she never set foot in a casino or even pulled a slot machine handle.

“But it’s iconic! Come on, I can’t be here on the ground and not see it, I may never be back!”

“Tom, what about the wedding party? You’re supposed to be hanging out with them!”

“I already explained that. They’re my relatives and a bunch of future in laws of Charlie’s. I can be with them anytime. I can’t be with you anytime. And certainly not in Las Vegas, Nevada.”

And that was the moment when she realized just how much she wanted to go with him. She wanted to see Las Vegas–with him. She wanted to sit next to him in the back of an Uber and listen to him talk. Lean against him, close enough to breathe the scent of his skin. Hear everything that had ever happened to him before they met, even if he told her in that annoying British accent–which was becoming less annoying and more charming by the minute.

Dear God, was this some unanticipated perimenopausal side effect? In all the articles that she’d read on the subject, had this ever been mentioned? Intense and inappropriate lust for a virtual stranger?

Speaking of inappropriate, what exactly was his age, anyway? She needed another look at his profile and she needed it now. Because if he was anywhere near her daughter’s age–if he was young enough, say, to have attended one of Nessa’s childhood birthday parties–she was going to fake stomach flu and get on the next plane home. Claire could have this entire field all to herself, whether she was capable or not.

“Are you all right?” Tom asked. “You’re looking a bit… shaken up. I thought emergencies were your specialty?”

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About Author Julia Kent:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

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 met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com

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Never Marry the Best Man Blitz

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Running Hott

by Serena Bell

(Hott Springs Eternal, #4)
Publication date: July 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

A jilted bride. A jaded divorce lawyer. A full tank of gas. What could go wrong?

Rhys: As a cutthroat New York City divorce lawyer, it’s my job to end marriages. Lifetime commitment? It’s for the birds. I do everything in my power to avoid it…until my grandfather’s will says that to save our family’s land, I have to become a wedding planner.

Worse, my first client is Eden Becker. She’s the sunshine-y disaster whose ex-husband I represented a few years ago in their divorce. Eden’s first marriage was a nightmare, so why does she think another one is a good idea?

Turns out, I’m not wrong. Her jerkwad fiancé jilts her, and as her wedding planner, I’m also her getaway vehicle. Now we’re on the road together—and all my complicated feelings about this beautiful, naive optimist are in the car, too. Along with a wild attraction I’ve been fighting since we first faced off across a conference table.

If this road trip goes on too much longer, I’m going to do something I’ll regret forever.

Like fall in love.

A spicy, grumpy-sunshine, jilted bride, enemies to lovers, standalone road trip romantic comedy set in the beloved small town of Rush Creek.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

I reach for the sound system.

His hand snakes in and blocks mine. “Driver controls the radio.”

“No, dude. Everyone knows the passenger controls the radio. Besides, if you won’t let me drive at all, that’s not fair. I had to listen to ninety-seven minutes of your dirge list and way too much sports ball. We need a mood change.”

I cue up my playlist and set it on shuffle. “What I’ve Been Looking For” from High School Musical comes on. Rhys groans.

“What?” I demand.

“This is from a kid’s movie.”

“Which you must have seen, if you know that.”

“It was one of Hanna’s favorites. We watched it a thousand times. Which was a thousand times too many.”

“What I’ve Been Looking For” is followed by “Surface Pressure” and “All You Wanna Do,” and Rhys says, “Please tell me this isn’t all from musicals and Disney movies.”

“This isn’t all from musicals and Disney movies,” I say as Taylor Swift’s “You Belong with Me” fills the car.

Rhys’s jaw ticks. His eyes roll. His shoulders twitch.

“What’s wrong with this one?” I demand.

He heaves a long-suffering sigh. “He obviously doesn’t belong with her. Let’s look at the facts: She’s clearly not his type. He wants someone who wears short skirts and high heels, and she’s not comfortable in those clothes. If she keeps trying to convince him he belongs with her, they’re both going to end up miserable.”

I stare at his way-too-good-looking profile in the dimly lit car, agog. “Are you serious?”

“Would you argue with anything I’ve said?”

“It’s a friends-to-lovers song!” I cry. “They’re obviously going to end up together and be super happy. Because she sees him! And understands him. He’s happy when he’s with her, and that isn’t true with the short-skirts-and-high-heels girl.”

“I thought you were swearing off love and marriage.”

“Just because I’m personally swearing off love and marriage doesn’t mean I wish ill on other people who have found their perfect matches.”

“This,” he says. “This is why so many marriages end in divorce. Because we hear what we want to hear. And two people can hear the same song and find completely different meaning in it. Imagine if you were with a guy and this was your song, and every time you heard it you thought about how cool it was that he’d finally seen you for the awesome bleachers girl you are, and he thought about his ex-girlfriend and her short skirts and high heels and how he wished you’d get some personal style.”

“Grim!”

“Realistic,” he corrects.

One of his hands leaves the wheel. Settles briefly near his knee. Creeps into my Cool Ranch Doritos bag.

“What are you doing?” I shriek.

“Stress eating,” he says. “Your playlist has driven me to it.”

I do everything in my power not to crack a smile. “You don’t eat junk food,” I point out.

“That was before I realized that despite being divorced by a sociopath and jilted by a personality potato, you still believe in true love.”

I can’t help it; I snort at personality potato. “I’m the one who has the stress. I’m the one who got jilted. And if I’d known I was going to have to share my precious Cool Ranch, I would have gotten a bigger bag.”

I sneak a peek at him. He’s definitely trying not to laugh. And unfortunately, it looks good on him. I let him have the Doritos.

“God, these are disgustingly tasty,” he says.

“Right?”

We’re both quiet for a moment, worshipping at the altar of fake food. He quietly licks Cool Ranch flavor off his fingers, and I absolutely, one hundred percent, do not wonder how his tongue feels licking up the inside of his finger and across the tip of his thumb. How it would feel rasping over my own fingertips, drawn into the heat of his mouth.

Oh, hell.

I’ve tumbled into a sexual fantasy about a man who disassembled me like a kid’s discarded playset.

We make our way through Maroon 5’s “Memories” (“Memories of how I cribbed this entire song from Pachelbel’s Canon,” Rhys says grumpily), past Lake Street Dive’s “Hypotheticals” (“Now this is actually a great song; you’re one for, what, a hundred?”) to “Try Everything.”

“That’s shitty advice,” he says. “‘Try everything.’ I mean, no. There are a lot of things that are straight-up bad ideas. Bull-riding. Free solo climbing. Base jumping. Heli-skiing. Recreational fentanyl.”

“She doesn’t mean literally everything,” I say.

“See?” he says. “And there we have it. Two people, same song, totally different interpretations.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t see how that’s somehow a refutation of marriage. You’re so—”

“Pessimistic? Cynical? Misanthropic?”

“All of the above. You ready to tell me what childhood wound made you this way?” I ask, half-teasing…half…not.

He shrugs.

“Yes, Eden,” I say, pitching my voice low to roughly imitate his. “Since we have another five and a half uninterrupted hours of being stuck in this car together with absolutely nothing else to do, I would love to tell you all about my childhood.”

Rhys is quiet for a moment. Then with a sigh, he says, “What do you want to know?”

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About Author Serena Bell:

USA Today bestselling author Serena Bell writes contemporary romance with heat, heart, and humor. A former journalist, Serena has always believed that everyone has an amazing story to tell if you listen carefully, and you can often find her scribbling in her tiny garret office, mainlining chocolate and bringing to life the tales in her head.

Serena’s books have earned many honors, including an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, Apple Books Best Book of the Month, and Amazon Best Book of the Year for Romance.

When not writing, Serena loves to spend time with her college-sweetheart husband and two hilarious kiddos—all of whom are incredibly tolerant not just of Serena’s imaginary friends but also of how often she changes her hobbies and how passionately she embraces the new ones. These days, it’s stand-up paddle boarding, board-gaming, meditation, and long walks with good friends.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Shopping for a Highlander’s Elopement

by Julia Kent

(Shopping for a Highlander, #3)
Publication date: June 10th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

I didn’t expect to fall for a Scottish footballer so annoyingly sunny you need shades to be around him.

I didn’t expect to say yes to his heart-felt, if loopy, proposal while he lay injured on the pitch, blathering on about banana pudding and sparkly unicorns.

What I definitely didn’t expect?

For our engagement to explode into a paparazzi circus, our mothers to turn into wedding bulldozers, and for our wedding protector’s perfectly reasonable elopement plan to spiral into a road trip escape.

So here we are.

In Love You, Maine, a town that celebrates Valentine’s Day every single day. We’re here to get married. Quietly. No drama. In disguise.

Although good luck hiding a 6’4” ginger Scottish striker wearing a knee brace and a perpetual extrovert smile.

Instead of being subtle and blending in? Our quiet escape is vibrating heart-shaped beds, mirrors on the ceilings, secret identities, interfering mothers, and one suspiciously enthusiastic moose that humps dumpsters.

This was supposed to be a simple wedding. Just me and Hamish. No fuss.

But nothing about us has ever been simple with us.

Still, this is what love is, right? It’s chaos. It’s compromise. It’s crying in a wedding planner’s office, then kissing in a hot spring.

It’s choosing each other again and again, even when everything goes sideways.

No matter what comes next… this is our comeback story, in more ways than one.

And no – that’s not a euphemism. 🙂

Shopping for a Highlander’s Elopement is a romantic comedy that blends the worlds of four bestselling series by New York Times bestselling romantic comedy author Julia Kent:

– Shopping for a Billionaire

– Shopping for a Highlander

– Whatever It Takes

– Love You, Maine

If you love sports romance, surprise proposals, grand gestures, chaotic weddings, Scottish footballers, golden retriever/black cat energy, and characters who love too hard, mess up spectacularly, and always find their way back to each other with plenty of laugh-out-loud moments (and lovingly-used scrunchies) along the way, then this is your book.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Love isn’t a football game.

It’s a feeling.

A feeling that uses instinct as a tool.

I’m smarter than this. When everything felt off, I should have known that it was off for a reason.

“Jody,” I say softly, “I canna do this.”

“Of course you can. You just have the jitters. Amy’s a wonderful woman and–”

“I dinna mean the proposin’ part. That’s fine. I can do that. I mean doin’ it on the pitch.”

His turn to go green.

“You want to cancel the proposal?”

“Aye. Nae. No’ the proposin’. The doin’ it in public part. I love Amy wi’ all ma body and soul.” I frown. “She’d hate to hear me say it that way. Soul and body.” I wink at Jody. “But it’s really the other way around. Ma body knows more than ma mind.”

“I don’t need to hear every thought that pops into your head, Hamish.”

“I only tell ye the important ones.”

“Like not wanting the big spectacle we arranged for you?”

“I’m tellin’ ye now, aren’t I?”

“We have extra cameramen here for this. Your parents and siblings are in the crowd. Declan and Andrew McCormick are here. We doubled the security.”

“Is this about money? I can pay for all that.”

“It’s not–well, yes, some of it is about the money. But it’s more about publicity and planning. A lot of people put forth a huge effort to make today special for you and Amy.”

“And forty thousand of ma closest fans.”

He closes his eyes and sighs through his nose. “A better time to realize this would have been weeks ago. Not a huge US exhibition game.”

“Ma instincts told me then that this was right. Now ma gut says something else. It all feels off.”

“Your gut.”

I pat my flat stomach. “It’s gotten me this far in life. Good gut.”

He’s right. I know how much work all the coaches, teammates, stadium staff and administrators, sponsors–hell, even the car park attendants–have put into helping me today. I don’t have cold feet, and I love Amy to the moon and back, but something feels wrong.

As Amy says, hinky.

I can’t explain it. If I had words for it, I’d use them. It’s a feeling, and those don’t always line up nice and neat in words that make sense.

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About Author Julia Kent:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

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 met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Twitter / Amazon / Bookbub / Newsletter

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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.