A single-mom, man-next-door, friends-to-lovers romance!
We have all been waiting for Penelope's next release and
it is finally here!
It's HERE!! Get The Anti-Boyfriend NOW!!
​

Excerpt from The Anti-Boyfriend

​Today, just as I got back to my door, Deacon was exiting his apartment.
“Oh, hey, Carys-Like-Paris. How goes it?” He flashed a wide smile.
When people ask me my name, for some stupid reason, I sometimes answer, “Carys, like Paris,” particularly when I’m nervous. That was the case the first time I met Deacon.
 
A whiff of his amazing smell put my body on alert. He looked handsome as always. Today he wore a camel-colored suede coat with a shearling collar. His blue eyes, which stood out against his tanned skin, glimmered under the fluorescent lights overhead, which also brought out the copper tint to his otherwise medium-brown hair. He was at least six-foot-two—a beanstalk to my five-foot-four self.
This was my opportunity to bring up last night. But now that he was right here, towering over me, his musky smell saturating the air, I seemed to have lost the words. Still, I was determined to speak up now or never.
My heartbeat accelerated. Here goes.Still out of breath from my sprint up the stairs, I said, “Well, honestly, in answer to your question… I’d love to say I’m doing great, but I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. So, I’ve been better.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Actually, it’s sort of your fault.”
Deacon’s forehead crinkled. “My fault?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if you realize this, but your bed is right up against mine, on the opposite side of the wall. Your…interactions…last night woke me up, and I had a hard time getting back to sleep.”
Boom.
There.
Said it.
Deacon closed his eyes momentarily. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were right behind me.”
“Yeah. It’s basically like I’m…right there.”
“Well, that was rude of me. I should’ve invited you to join.”
What? It felt like all my blood rushed to my head.
He held out his palms. “I’m kidding. Bad sense of humor comes out when I feel awkward, I guess.”
Slipping a piece of my hair behind my ear, I brushed off his comment. “I know you’re kidding.”
“Totally kidding.” He smiled. “But I’ll try to be more considerate now that I know you can hear everything. You should’ve said something.”
I tilted my head. “How exactly would that have worked? Barging in on two naked people? That’s why I’m saying something now.”
“Solid point. But I take it last night wasn’t the first time you overheard things?”
I looked down at my feet. “No, it wasn’t.”
“You could’ve banged on the wall or something.”
“I’m not one to rudely interrupt someone’s…personal happenings. I just wanted you to be aware of the situation. We don’t need to discuss it further.”
 
“Maybe we should come up with a code.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, If I’m disturbing your peace, you play a song and crank it up to send me a message.” He snapped his fingers. “Something ironic like ‘The Sounds of Silence’ by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Can’t exactly crank up a song when a baby is sleeping.”
His smile faded. “See? That goes to show you how clueless I am. Clueless and so sorry, Carys. Truly. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
 
“It better not, fuckboy!” a voice shouted from behind one of the apartment doors.
Deacon and I turned around in unison. I noticed Mrs. Winsbanger’s door move across the hall. The old lady must have been listening in. She lived alone, and I often spotted her peeking out her door, spying on people.
Deacon grimaced. “Mrs. Winsbanger loves me.”
“Apparently I’m not the only one who overheard things last night,” I said.
His face turned red. His embarrassment was a bit surprising. I’d expected him to be more cocky.
“I’ll move my bed to the other side of the room. That should help.”
“Well, that would be nice, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not.”
Happy to have the conversation over with, I let out a long breath. “Okay, well, I’ll let you get going.”
He didn’t budge and seemed to be examining my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You seem frazzled.”
Well, yeah. I didn’t get good sleep, I’m trying to get things done in possibly the only hour of the day I have free, and we just had the most awkward conversation EVER.
 
“This is just me—my life. I have what could be barely more than an hour to eat my lunch and have some quiet time before my daughter wakes up from her nap.”
“Ah.” He scratched his chin. “How old is she now?”
“Six months.”
 
Deacon knew I was a single mom. He’d run into me one day and helped me bring groceries in while I tried to juggle Sunny and her stroller.
I was just about to head back inside my apartment when his voice stopped me.
“Do you need anything?”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. “Like what?”
“Something from the store? A…coffee, maybe? I’m just headed out to run a quick errand, but I can stop somewhere on the way back.”
“It’s the least you can do, monkey balls!” Mrs. Winsbanger chimed in from across the hall.
She was apparently still listening.
“Did she just fucking call me monkey balls?” he whispered.
At that moment, I lost it. Laughter got a hold of me, and it took almost a minute before I could even speak. Deacon laughed, too, but I think he was more cracking up at my reaction.
“No idea why she just called you monkey balls. But I haven’t laughed this hard in weeks.”
After I finally calmed down, Deacon repeated his earlier question.
“Anyway, as I was saying, can I get you a coffee or something?”
 
His offer gave me pause. It was rare that anyone asked if I needed anything. I had a couple of good friends in the city, but they worked and had busy social lives. It wasn’t like they were around in the middle of the day to run to the store for me. And given that it was fall in New York, it was getting chilly out. I had to have a damn good reason to take Sunny out in the cold.
 
Honestly, I was dying for a latte from Starbucks. Running to the coffee shop was definitely something people without babies took for granted. It wasn’t worth having to bundle Sunny up.
“I would love a vanilla latte from Starbucks, if you pass one on your way back,” I finally said.
“Done.” He smiled. “That’s it?”
“Just one pump of vanilla would be great.”
“One pump. Got it. Anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough? It’s hardly a necessity. I shouldn’t be taking advantage.”
“Take advantage of me. What else do you need? Seriously. It’s the least I can do after disturbing your peace last night.”
Take advantage of me. Yup. Mind straight in the gutter. “You’re not my gopher.”
“Carys….” His baritone voice turned serious, and he repeated in a slow and exaggerated manner, “What. Do. You. Need? I could run to the store.”
There was something else I desperately needed.
“Diapers?” I said hesitantly.
“Okay.” He laughed. “You’re gonna have to help me out with those. I’ve never purchased them in my life.”
Before I could tell him what size, he handed me his phone. I was all too aware of the brief touch of his hand.
“Enter your digits. I’ll text you from the store to make sure I get the right kind.”
I did as he said before handing him back the phone, once again enjoying the contact from that brief exchange. Cheap thrills were as good as it got these days.
He put it in his pocket. “Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, you can let me know when I text.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“Talk to ya in a bit,” he said before heading down the hall.
 
I stood by my door and watched him walk away. The view from the back was just as good as the front. And moreover, it seemed Deacon was just as lovely on the inside as he was on the outside.
“One pump my ass,” I heard Mrs. Winsbanger say before she slammed her door.
 ​

MORE ABOUT THE ANTI-BOYFRIEND

At first, my neighbor Deacon frustrated me.
Sure, he was great-looking and friendly.
But our walls were thin, and on occasion, he’d bring women to his place and keep me awake while he “entertained” them.
As a single mother to an infant, I didn’t appreciate it.
So, finally it was my turn.
When my daughter wouldn’t stop wailing one night, Mr. Manwhore came knocking on my door.
Miraculously, at the sound of his voice, Sunny stopped crying. And when he held her…she eventually fell asleep in his arms.
Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer.
After that night, we became friends.
He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff.
But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer.
Until one night we crossed the line.
Our friendship turned into a complicated mess.
I’d gone and fallen for a guy who’d sworn off commitment and kids.
I knew Deacon was starting to care for me too, even though Sunny and I didn’t fit into any plan he’d ever imagined for himself.
He was wrong for me—so wrong that I’d dubbed him the “anti-boyfriend.”
Then why did I wish more than anything that I could be the one woman to change him?

MEET AUTHOR PENELOPE WARD 

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of contemporary romance.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son, and beautiful daughter with autism. 
With over 2-million books sold, she is a 21-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over twenty novels. 
In 2014, Penelope’s fourth novel, Stepbrother Dearest, became the #1 bestselling independently published Kindle ebook of the year on Amazon.com and was credited with igniting an entirely new subgenre of romance. 
Her books have been translated into over a dozen languages and can be found in bookstores around the world. 
Penelope can often be found chatting live with her readers in her private Facebook group, Penelope’s Peeps. Click on the second Facebook icon above to join!
Penelope is represented by Kimberly Brower of Brower Literary & Management.

Follow Penelope on Amazon HERE

Playboy Pilot is NOW LIVE!  
Captain Carter and Kendall’s highly anticipated romance is finally here
​in Playboy Pilot by Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland! 

From the New York Times bestselling authors of Stuck-Up Suit and Cocky Bastard, comes a sexy new standalone novel.

Money or love? Which would you choose? 

You probably just answered the question in your head thinking it's an easy decision.

For me, it's not. Did I mention it's a lot of money? A hell of a lot.

I needed to go far away to think it through.

As I embarked on an impulsive trip, I hit a detour when I met sexy Carter in the airport lounge. We struck up a heated conversation.

Then, he left.

I thought I'd never see him again.

But fate had other plans.

Surprise! He was the pilot of my flight.

The bigger surprise was the adventure that followed after the plane landed.

Carter was dangerous and always on the move.

Even though our connection was magnetic, I knew it was only temporary.

He would give me tickets, and I would follow him around the world to exotic places.

A bevvy of flight attendant exes and rumors about Carter's reputation were never far behind.

I didn't know what to believe.

But I was addicted. Nothing else mattered anymore. And I was going to get hurt. Because a part of me wanted to be the one to finally ground the playboy pilot.

At the very least, he was taking me on a thrilling ride.

All good things must come to an end, right?

Except our ending was one I didn't see coming.

“Carter? What are you doing?”
Shit.
I laughed under my breath and banged the back of my head against the wood. “Praying?”
“Do you always breathe like that when you’re praying?”
“It’s an intense prayer.”
“What are you really doing?”
“I think you might know what I’m really doing, Kendall.”
“Can I come in?”
Still fully erect, I tucked my cock back into my pants as best I could before opening the door.
Her eyes trailed down to my massive erection. “I’m sorry….to make you resort to that.”
“It’s okay. My hand and I haven’t spent time like this since I was a teenager. I think he missed me.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“You.”
“Yeah…but what specifically?”
“It was this fantasy of fucking you on the dance floor back at the club.”
She looked down at me again. Her expression was serious when she asked, “You need some help?”
“I thought you said we weren’t going to go there.”
“I can’t have sex with you. But I want to touch you. I could take my clothes off, let you finish what you started. You know…help you.”
Looking up at the ceiling, I shook my head. “You have no fucking clue, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How crazy you make me. There’s no halfway with you. Jerking off with your naked body right in front of me…not being able to do what I really want to you…would be torture. I don’t have that kind of willpower, not with you, not anymore. Even when I kiss you, all I can think about is burying myself inside of you. But you naked in front of me? Too much, Kendall. When you strip down for me, I want it to be when you’re ready to let me have you. Otherwise, it’s better if I don’t know what I’m missing out on.”
Looking filled with remorse, she waved her hands. “Okay. I get it. I’m sorry…for interrupting.”
“Go back to bed. I’ll be right there.”
After Kendall left, I closed my eyes in regret. Was I crazy for turning her away like that?
Now that she knew what I was up to in here, I couldn’t relax. Still needing release like a motherfucker, I turned on the shower and got in. Ironically, I jerked myself to thoughts of her naked body against the bathroom door and imagined she was watching me.
Fuck my life.

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in ten languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Website |Facebook |Twitter | Instagram |Goodreads |Pinterest

For more books by Vi Keeland visit her Rock Star Page

​Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author of eleven novels. Her books have placed on the New York Times bestseller list fourteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband and kids reside in Rhode Island. 

Stalk Her: Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads | Private Fan Group

For More books by Penelope Ward view her Rock Star Page

Neighbor Dearest by Penelope Ward is LIVE
and on limited-time release sale for $3.99. 
(Changing to $4.99 after release. This will be the ONLY sale.)

A sexy STANDALONE friends-to-lovers story that does NOT have to be read in conjunction with any other book.

Read an excerpt, enter to win and be sure to ONE-CLICK your copy!  
You will not be disappointed.

Looking tense, he placed his hands slowly into his pockets as he looked at me. “What exactly happened last night?”
“What are you talking about?”
Nice try dodging the question.
He moved in closer to me. “What am I talking about? You leaving me with a giant fucking basket of muffins and running off before I could even say anything? Ring a bell?”
“I thought you’d be alone. It caught me off guard.”
His eyes softened. “You were upset…”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Chelsea. Fucking horrible at it. You don’t hide your feelings very well.”
“You think you know just about everything there is to know about me, don’t you?”
“Not everything. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to read you. It’s one of the things I like about you, though. You’re one of the least fake people I’ve ever met.”
“Then, tell me. Why do you think I was upset?”
“Honestly? I think you’re confused about me.”
“Confused…”
“Yes. I think you’re wondering why I opted not to have dinner with you and instead ended up with a woman I’d literally just met, someone who isn’t as sweet as you and sure as fuck isn’t as pretty as you. So, you’re wondering what the hell I was thinking. Am I right?”
That’s exactly what I was thinking.
He continued, “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I do feel a connection with you, okay? If you’ve sensed something, you’re not imagining it.”
“Well, if I wasn’t confused before…now I definitely am.”
“I feel like I need to say this now, because I can’t stand the thought of you thinking that I somehow find you undesirable when it’s exactly the opposite.”
I crossed my arms. “Again. Not following you.”
He closed his eyes as if to try to find the right words. “It’s just that I know for sure that I can’t ever be what someone like you needs in a boyfriend, in a partner. It’s not that we wouldn’t have fun or be great together at first. I’m just not good for you in the long-term—not marriage material. And the reasons are too complex to get into, except to say that it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I can’t, in good conscience, start something with a girl like you.”
“A girl like me…”
“Yes. You’re not the kind of girl a guy takes home for a quick fuck. You’re the girl he keeps.”
Right. Just like Elec did.

A STANDALONE NOVEL that does NOT need to be read in conjunction with any other book.

From New York Times bestselling author, Penelope Ward, comes a friends-to-lovers story with sexy new characters.

After getting dumped, the last thing I needed was to move next door to someone who reminded me of my ex-boyfriend, Elec.

Damien was a hotter version of my ex.

The neighbor I’d dubbed “Angry Artist” also had two massive dogs that kept me up with their barking.

He wanted nothing to do with me. Or so I thought until one night I heard laughter coming through an apparent hole in my bedroom wall. 

Damien had been listening to all of my phone sessions with my therapist. 

The sexy artist next door now knew all of my deepest secrets and insecurities.

We got to talking. 

He set me straight with tips to get over my breakup. 

He became a good friend, but Damien made it clear that he couldn’t be anything more. 

Problem was, I was falling hard for him anyway. And as much as he pushed me away, I knew he felt the same…because his heartbeat didn’t lie.

I thought my heart had been broken by Elec, but it was alive and beating harder than ever for Damien. 

I just hoped he wouldn’t shatter it for good. 

Author's note – Neighbor Dearest is a full-length standalone novel.
Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

​Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island. 
         Stalk Her: Facebook | Website | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Private Group

View more titles by Penelope HERE

We're thrilled to share a sizzling sneak peek of Felony Ever After, A Domino Novel, by 13 amazing authors: Helena Hunting, Debra Anastasia, Nina Bocci, Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward, Leisa Rayven, Liv Morris, Tijan, JM Darhower, Belle Aurora, KA Robinson , SM Lumetta, and Katherine Stevens.  
​
Felony Ever After releases on March 22nd, click here to pre-order today. Want a sizzling preview by Helena Hunting? Plus enter to win a $25 gift card! 

“Are you drunk?” Hudson asked.

Verity sat up straighter and pushed her chest out until the buttons on her blouse strained. “I’m buzzed.”

“Why were you out for drinks with your boss? You hate him.”

“Because I want to know what’s in those damn packages, and because when I picked up one from your main office today, I saw you all cozied up to that cute little blonde.” Martinis were the worst kind of truth serum for Verity.

“You mean my other girlfriend?” The right side of Hudson’s mouth quirked up.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You should probably know, that cute little blonde is one of my half-sisters, and she’s thirteen. I was taking her out for lunch.”

Verity’s mouth opened to fire a snarky response, but the only thing that came was a quiet, cracked, “Oh.” The girl’s age would explain her questionable fashion choices.

“So back to clarifying…” Hudson cleared his throat. “If she’s my other girlfriend, what are you?”

Oh shit. It was a trap. She’d baited it herself. Verity folded her legs under her and pushed up, forgetting about the ankle she’d rolled. She yelped and fell forward, face-planting into Hudson’s chest and knocking them both off balance. He landed on his ass, and she landed on top of him. It would have been the perfect position under different circumstances.

She blew her hair out of her face and struggled to get up. “I’m just the girl you’re stalking.”

Hudson wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her where she was. “I think you like me stalking you.”

Verity snorted a very unfeminine snort. “Well, you’re clearly a criminal, so of course you’d think that.”

“We’re back to that, are we? Don’t you think the stereotype is getting a little old?” The arm around her waist tightened. His eyes dropped from hers and focused on her chest pressed against his. “I don’t know if you know this, but this shirt is pretty much transparent. I can see your bra through it. And that’s a lot of cleavage you’ve got going on there.” He stuck a finger in it to demonstrate. “If I was your boyfriend, I don’t think I’d be all that happy that you wore it to work today. Especially paired with this skirt and knowing what a weirdo your boss is.” Hudson’s hand eased lower to her ass. He gave it a little squeeze.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re not my boyfriend then, isn’t it?”

“Definitely a good thing.” Hudson squeezed harder and shifted under her. “Way better that I’m just stalking your fine ass.”

They stared at each other for a half-second before Verity yanked off his beanie, shoved her hands into his hat-head hair and plastered her mouth to his.

Hudson cupped the back of her head and rolled them over so he was on top. The seam at the back of Verity’s skirt gave way with a huge tear as she opened her legs so Hudson could fit himself between them. They dry-humped the living hell out of each other as they made out in the middle of her living room floor.

Verity grabbed the hem of his hoodie and yanked it up, pulling it over his head when there was a break in the kiss. His white T-shirt came with it. Under all those clothes was a seriously cut body covered in ink. She’d expected as much. It wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to have hand and neck tattoos if the rest of the merchandise wasn’t going to be decorated the same way.

Verity ran her hands over his chest and down his abs.

“Badass enough for a stalker?” Hudson asked, that damn dimply smirk curving the corner of his mouth.

“You must be the king of badass stalkers.” Verity tried to pull him back down for another kiss—she was really starting to dig that tongue piercing—but Hudson sat back on his heels.

He untucked her shirt from her skirt. “I don’t think you’ll be wearing this shirt to work again.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t have any buttons.” He grabbed the hem on either side and pulled. The buttons popped off, pinging against his ripped chest—seriously, all that biking did a body good. She didn’t even care that he’d ruined her sort-of slutty work shirt.

Verity thanked the gods of bra design for the little heart-shaped front clasp on the one she was wearing. She opened it and set the girls free. They were like homing devices for Hudson’s hands. He cupped them immediately, separating his fingers so her nipples peeked through.

Jesus. He really did look like a criminal with all that ink—an incredibly hot criminal who’d broken into her house. He even had a few scars littered across his chest and one on his arm to complete the criminal look. She wondered if there was a bullet wound scar somewhere.

Hudson ducked his head and sucked one of her happy nipples into his mouth. Verity moaned and arched as she fumbled around, searching for the buckle on his belt. Finding it, she freed the clasp and went for the button on his jeans. There wasn’t a zipper to make him easier to access. It was buttons all the way down. It was hard to concentrate while he continued the nipple sucking, but she finally managed to get them all undone.

Verity took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. She shoved her hand down his pants, praying she’d find something in there to match the rest of his hotness. He was commando, because of course—badass criminals don’t do underwear.

She wrapped her fingers around his shaft. “Thank God,” she muttered when her thumb and forefinger didn’t touch. Not even close, actually. Verity had small hands; if her fingers touched, it meant unfortunate things.

Hudson lifted his head. “Worried I wasn’t going to have a dick?”

Verity stroked the length, getting a feel for how much there was, until she hit something that didn’t feel like it belonged. She looked between them, but it was dark down there. She put a hand on his chest so she could check it out a little better.

“Is that a—” She brushed the steel with her thumb. Not only was Hudson sporting an beautiful cock, it was pierced. Thankfully it wasn’t tattooed. That would cross the badass line into really weird. She met Hudson’s amused gaze. “I want to know what that feels like.”

“Go ahead and touch it all you want.” Hudson’s mouth went slack as she stroked him a few times.

“No.” Verity licked her lips. “I mean I want to know what it feels like from the inside.”

Hudson grinned. “Should I assume you’re not talking about the inside of your mouth?”

Verity thought for less than a second. She could do the whole blow job thing another time. Besides, knowing her luck, she’s end up sucking the ball right off the piercing and that would result in a trip to the hospital—a place she was only slightly more interested in visiting than jail.

She’d been fantasizing about being pounded by Hudson since he’d stolen the cab with her in it. She shook her head. “Not the inside of my mouth.”

“Just to clarify, are you asking me to fuck you?”

“Yes, please.”

Verity Michaels is new to New York City, but even she knows riding in a stolen a cab is not a normal way to meet someone. Damn it if that tattoo-covered would-be felon isn’t everywhere now, and lighting everything on fire under her skirt. 

His name is Hudson Fenn, and he’s frustratingly impossible to pin down. He works as a bike messenger, but has the manners of a prince—along with a strange tendency toward breaking and entering. As much as Verity knows he’s not her type, and likely to land her in jail, she can’t help but find her truest self when they’re together. 

Can she be brave enough to give Hudson a real chance? Will he be bold enough to reveal the man beneath the ink, or will his secrecy doom their connection? Also, WTF is the deal with Verity’s boss? No less than thirteen of your favorite romance writers have teamed up to tell this sexy, wacky, snort-inducing tale. With them you’ll visit the world’s most irritating office, a VIP room of questionable cleanliness, and the fanciest apartment a bike messenger has ever inhabited, but you’ll still never see this ending coming.

RoomHate is Penelope Ward's newest stand alone and it's NOW LIVE!  
The feels, oh my goodness the FEELS! A love/hate tension that's off-the-charts HOT. The raw bitterness, years of unresolved emotions, and an undeniable attraction that takes enemies-to-lovers to a whole NEW level of explosiveness. Confidently a 2016 TOP Recommendation!

Meet swoon-worthy Justin Banks and enter to win a $100 Gift Card! 

His eyes darted to the side, and he noticed me standing there. We just stared at each other. It was ironic, but the only times I could ever feel the remnants of our old connection were in fleeting moments of silent eye contact. Sometimes moments of silence spoke the loudest.
I left him alone again, making my way back down the hall and into the restaurant to tend to the customers I’d been ignoring.
Things really started to get busy. Without Jade working tonight, we were short-staffed, and I was having a hard time keeping up with the orders. Sandy’s had indoor and outdoor seating. Normally, I would only be working one section, but tonight I was going back and forth between the two.
It was nice out, so I knew they would have Justin performing outside. I kept glancing over to the small stage to see if he was there. It was past eight, and he hadn’t made an appearance yet.
Sometime close to eight-thirty, I was in the middle of serving a large party of ten when I first heard it: the chilling sound of a soulful voice that was not familiar in the least. He gave no introduction. No warning. He just started to sing out the first few words, followed by the strum of his guitar. The song that Justin had chosen to start with was a cover of Ain’t No Sunshine by Bill Withers.
The entire room soon quieted down, and all eyes were on the stunning blond male specimen with the spotlight shining down on him. Despite the fact that I was carrying a large round tray of dirty dishes, I couldn’t move. The vibration of his thick, smoky singing voice had completely paralyzed me, penetrating my body and soul.
Aside from the lone teardrop that fell the night he lost it on me during steak dinner, I hadn’t shed any more tears—until now. It was all too much. Hearing how different his voice sounded, how he’d trained it over the years, was a wake-up call as to how much I had missed. All of the hours of practice that must have gone into honing that beautiful voice, and I wasn’t there for any of it. The guilt, the emotions, the reality of a decade gone…everything started to pummel me at once. Not to mention the song—about a girl leaving. It probably had nothing to do with me, but in my mind, it sure as hell felt like it did.

​From New York Times Bestselling Author, Penelope Ward, comes a new standalone novel.

Sharing a summer house with a hot-as-hell roommate should be a dream come true, right?

Not when it’s Justin…the only person I’d ever loved…who now hates me.

When my grandmother died and left me half of the house on Aquidneck Island, there was a catch: the other half would go to the boy she helped raise.

The same boy who turned into the teenager whose heart I broke years ago.

The same teenager who’s now a man with a hard body and a hardass personality to match.

I hadn’t seen him in years, and now we’re living together because neither one of us is willing to give up the house.

The worst part? He didn’t come alone.

I’d soon realize there’s a thin line between love and hate. I could see through that smug smile. Beneath it all…the boy is still there. So is our connection.

The problem is…now that I can’t have Justin, I’ve never wanted him more.

Author's note – RoomHate is a full-length standalone novel. Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest. Watching this whole thing unfold had made me totally lose sense of reality. I felt like I’d been experiencing every movement, every feeling right along with him, except I wasn’t allowed to come. It was as if I’d seriously lost my mind in the process. That was the only thing that could possibly explain why my body decided to betray me, letting out an involuntary sigh….moan? I wasn’t sure and couldn’t even tell you what it was except to say whatever sound I made caused Justin to jump back. His head whipped toward me, and his shocked eyes met mine for a brief second before I ran back down the stairs.
Humiliated.
Mortified.
My heart felt like it was in my mouth. Escaping out the front door and down to the water, I continued to run aimlessly on the sand. At one point, about a mile down the beach, it became necessary to stop and catch my breath, even though I wanted to keep running. I’d gotten so wrapped up in Justin that I’d forgotten how sick I was this afternoon. It was all hitting me again as I stumbled over to the shoreline and vomited into the ocean.
I collapsed into the sand and must have sat there for over an hour. The sun was starting to go down, and the tide was coming in. It felt like everything was closing in on me. I knew I couldn’t avoid going home forever.
What if he told Jade what I’d done?
That I was watching him.
Oh God.
He was going to crucify me for this.
What excuse could I possibly give him that would explain why I was hiding behind his door, watching him ejaculate like it was a Fourth of July fireworks performance?
I decided that I needed to get home before Jade did. Maybe I could convince him not to say anything. Brushing the sand off my thighs, I made my way back over to the house.
My heart nearly stopped upon finding Justin standing in the kitchen, drinking out of a half-gallon of orange juice. I stood silently behind him and watched as he put the container back.
Justin turned around and finally noticed me standing there. His hair was wet, making it appear brown instead of blonde. He must have taken a shower to wash away the awkwardness of our encounter. Looking painfully handsome in a brown distressed t-shirt that fit his chest like a glove, he just stared me down.
Here it comes.
I braced myself for his humiliating words. My heart was beating out of my chest as he just continued to look at me blankly without saying anything. He slowly walked toward me, and all of the muscles in my body tightened. He was going to get in my face and do it.
Shit.

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor, before switching to a more family-friendly career. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 11-year-old girl with autism and a 9-year-old boy. Penelope and her family reside in Rhode Island.       

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