I am so excited! My next romcom book Josh and Gemma Make a Baby is up for preorder. The official launch date is Jan 25, 2022 but you can preorder your copy now and get it first on the day of launch. This is doubly exciting because Josh and Gemma Make a Baby is also coming out as an audiobook! Preorder Josh and Gemma Make a Baby today!
Meet Gemma Jacobs. She’s driven, energetic, and a positive thinker. She has a great career working for famed self-help guru Ian Fortune, she lives in a cute studio apartment in Manhattan, and her family is supportive and loving (albeit a little kooky). Her life is perfect. Absolutely wonderful.
Except for one tiny little thing.
After a decade of disastrous relationships and an infertility diagnosis, Gemma doesn’t want a Mr. Right (or even a Mr. Right Now), she just wants a baby.
And all she needs is an egg, some sperm, and IVF.
So Gemma makes a New Year’s resolution: have a baby.
Josh Lewenthal is a laid back, relaxed, find-the-humor-in-life kind of guy. The polar opposite of Gemma. He’s also her brother’s best friend. For the past twenty years Josh has attended every Jacobs’ family birthday, holiday, and event – he’s always around.
Gemma knows him. He’s nice (enough), he’s funny (-ish), he’s healthy (she thinks) and he didn’t burn any ants with a magnifying glass as a kid. Which, in Gemma’s mind, makes him the perfect option for a sperm donor.
So Gemma wants to make a deal. An unemotional, businesslike arrangement. No commitments, just a baby.
To Gemma’s surprise, Josh agrees.
They have nothing in common, except their agreement to make a baby and their desire to keep things businesslike.
But the thing about baby-making…it’s hard to keep it businesslike, it’s nearly impossible to keep it unemotional, and it’s definitely impossible to keep your heart out of the mix. Because when you’re making a baby together, things have a way of starting to feel like you’re making other things too – like a life, and a family, and love. And when the baby-making ends, you wish that everything else didn’t have to end too.
My upcoming romcom, enemies-to-lovers, romance will be available September 14th, 2021! Here is extract #3 from my upcoming romance book, Romance By The Book.
Jessie is convinced she is going to marry Gavin Williams. His twin brother Will is not going to let that happen. Is he a protective brother, or does he have other ideas in mind?
Check out this extract and pre-orderyour copy of this upcoming romcom today.
“I know. You don’t have to say it. I’m a fool. He’s getting married, he’s not interested, I’m not his type, blah, blah, blah. I know.” Her voice breaks again, and I want to reach out to her.
“But you know what?” she asks.
I shake my head. “What?”
“I disagree. I believe in love. I believe in fate. And even if I have to get drenched in coffee, or spaghetti, or…whatever…I’m going to keep trying. Because…” She pauses, then tilts her chin up and continues. “Because I have a lot of love to give. A lot. And I’ve been waiting my whole life to give it to that boy I fell in love with a long time ago. So…so there.”
I don’t say anything. I just stand there and take in the passion coloring her cheeks and the spark in her eyes. I want her so badly it hurts.
A water drop hits me in the forehead. Then another. Jessie looks around, and an expression of shock then guilt comes over her. The sparse drops turn to a light shower. Jessie closes her eyes and groans.
She shakes her head. I look around. It’s raining in a five-foot circumference around us. I look up. Petunia and Gladiola wave gleefully at me from a second-story window. Wanda holds a large sprinkler over us. A suspicion enters my mind.
“Is this a kiss in the rain?”
“No,” Jessie says. She opens her eyes and peeks at me. “Turn it off,” she shouts up at the ladies.
I take a step toward her. “Were you going to lure my brother here for a romantic kiss in the rain?”
“No. Of course not.” She takes a step back. “Turn it off, Wanda,” she shouts up.
“Can’t hear you, dear, I lost my hearing aid after class,” yells Wanda.
“She said turn it up,” Petunia says.
A slow grin spreads over my face. I take another step forward. Jessie takes a careful step back. Water runs down my face. I wipe it from my eyes. Strands of hair are starting to fall out of Jessie’s French twist. I reach forward and brush a lock off her cheek. Jessie takes another step back and bumps into the brick bakery wall.
The rate of the fake rain shower increases. Water pours down around us. Drops stream over Jessie’s face and onto her dress, washing away the spaghetti and sauce. I put my forearms to the brick wall on either side of her, closing her in. I bend down, until our mouths nearly touch.
“Did you think a kiss in the rain would make him fall in love?”
“No.” Her eyes turn dark and luminous. A drop of water trails down her cheek and settles on her lip. I groan. I’ve never ached to taste a drop of water so much.
“You want to know who would want you, Jessie?”
“Who?” she asks reluctantly.
I press her against the wall and send my lips to hers. She gasps and her mouth opens to me. I send my tongue in, I run it over her lips and drink the falling water and the taste of her.
I press my body over hers and shield her from the rain. I bury my hands in her hair and pull her closer. She makes a small sound in her throat and I lick it up. I take her lip in my mouth and tug, then I send my tongue across her lower lip. She’s heaven.
She was right. If I didn’t already love her, then this kiss in the rain would make me love her for forever and beyond.
Her hands settle hesitantly on my shoulders and I groan. I need more. I need more of her. It’s been too many years since I’ve touched her. It’s been too many years of wanting her and not having her.
I grab her hips and pick her up. Her dress rides up and she wraps her legs around me. I press her against the brick wall. She’s positioned in the perfect spot. I rub against her and she gasps. I jerk my hips and she gasps again. I catch the noise with my mouth. I run my fingers down her cheeks, rock my hips against her and catch another cry in my mouth.
“Jessie,” I say against her lips. I kiss the corner of her mouth. “I want you. I’ll always want you.”
She stops moving. Her hands tighten on my shoulders.
I pause. “What is—”
The sprinkle of rain water turns into an ice-cold flood as three 10-gallon buckets of water pour on my head.
Pre-order my upcoming romcom romance book today and let me know what you think!
I fell in love when I was eight years old, and it was the best and the worst day of my life. My mom always said, in a town like Romeo, you’re guaranteed to find your true love, it’s not a matter of if, only of when. For me, the when happened early.
Some (okay, everyone) might say I live in a fantasy world, that no one can find their soul mate when they’re eight years old. But I did. And Miss Erma is about to confirm it.
That’s right. Romeo, New York’s number one star, Miss Erma, official soul mate psychic, finally saw my true love.
I always promised myself that if Miss Erma ever predicted my soul mate, I’d pursue him with a single-minded passion. I’d do anything for that kind of love. Romeo, the town where I grew up, inspires this kind of thinking. We have more happily matched couples and true love than any other town in the Western Hemisphere. Our small town has a Cupid festival, a Valentine’s Day parade, a Sweetheart’s Day baking contest, and a 30, 40, or 50 year wedding anniversary practically every week. If the cobblestone streets, the overflowing flower baskets, and the cute stone bridge over the river doesn’t convince you, then our charm will—Romeo, Official Town of Love USA, is the place where true love finds you.
Needless to say, I’ve been dreaming of this moment for practically my whole life.
“You’ve seen him?” I ask Miss Erma.
She gives me a smile that on anyone below twenty I’d call mischievous, but Miss Erma is over eighty, so I’ll call it conspiratorial. “I have,” she confirms. “I saw him this morning.”
My stomach does a flip and I clasp my hands together to keep from jumping up and down and shouting in glee. We’re in a library after all. Miss Erma is here for the class I teach, a seniors’ computer skills class. There’s no jumping around or shouting in libraries.
But still. This, this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
Miss Erma told my friends Chloe and Veronica their soul mates in the last year, and I just knew my time would be coming soon. Well, if not knew, then hoped.
Miss Erma adjusts her silk shawl over her shoulders. It has pink cherry blossoms on ivory colored fabric. Then she leans back in her computer chair and beams at me.
“I’ve finished the internet search assignment. I looked up travel plans for New York City. Wanda and I are planning a trip,” says Erma.
What? This is the most important moment of my life and she wants to talk about the computer class assignment? I look around the library community room. It’s a big, bright room, with a long table filled with computers and comfy desk chairs. The walls are painted cream and the carpet is sage green. Everyone in the class is still at work, ignoring my conversation with Erma.
“Miss Erma, please. My soul mate. Who is he?” I ask, and then I hold my breath.
But a horrifying thought enters my mind. What if she says William?
Please not William. Please not William. Please not William.
Please don’t say William Williams IV.
“It’s that Williams boy.”
The breath I was holding shoots out in a loud exhale. I cough and hit my chest.
Wanda, Erma’s best friend, looks over from her computer. “Are you alright, dear?”
“Fine. Fine.” I wave at her. Everyone else in the class is absorbed in their internet search assignment. They haven’t noticed Erma and me talking. I cough again and clear my throat. My stomach feels like it’s on a roller coaster, it’s being tossed around and I can’t get off the ride. “The Williams boy?” I ask. Please be Gavin. Please be Gavin. Please be the boy I’ve wanted since I was eight years old, not his awful, horrible brother.
“That’s right,” says Erma.
She winks at me and then digs around in her purse. It’s on the floor next to her chair. When she comes up she’s holding a cookie tin. She opens it and holds it in front of me. “Have an oatmeal raisin cookie. I baked them this morning.”
I look down at the pile of cookies in the red tin. How can Erma offer cookies at a time like this? My stomach is still looping around my abdomen. Doesn’t she realize there are two Williams boys? One is perfect and wonderful and everything I’ve ever wanted and the other is…Will.
She waves the tin under my nose, and the scent of cinnamon and raisins wafts up to me.
“Um, alright. Thank you.” I take a cookie chock-full of raisins from the top of the pile, then I force myself to take a bite, chew and swallow. “Mmm. Really good. Thank you.”
I set the cookie down on the table, there’s no way I’ll be able to force myself to swallow another bite. Not until I know. Is my soul mate the man I’ve always believed it was, or his awful, horrible, rotten brother.
“Miss Erma? Which Williams boy? There are two of them.”
“Hmm. Are there?”
She puts the lid back on the cookie tin and pops it into her purse. When she comes back up, her black hair is messy. She pats it down and re-straightens her shawl. She’s fine boned and petite, and some people say she looks like a little bird. She definitely has the energy of a bird. And I’m beginning to see why Chloe always insists her great aunt is full of mischief.
“Yes. There’s Gavin and there’s William.”
My stomach rolls again and I press my hand against it. Please don’t say William, please don’t say William. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t.
“He just came back to town,” she says.
“Yes. Which one? Which one is my soul mate?”
Miss Erma studies me as if I’m missing the point. She gives me the same look that Chloe gives me when I can’t visualize one of her greeting card illustration ideas. I’d laugh if I weren’t so frustrated.
“Jessie. Dear. You already know who your soul mate is.” “I do?” I try to swallow down the dry cookie crumbs still sticking in my throat. “Does that mean…?”
Miss Erma nods. “Your soul mate is the Williams boy you’ve loved since you were a little girl.”
Not William Williams IV. Not Will.
Thank you, God. Thank you.
It’s Gavin. His twin.
“He’s my soul mate,” I say with wonder.
Erma’s eyes twinkle. “That’s right. You’ve known he was for years.”
I grab Erma’s hands in mine and then I start jumping up and down and squealing. I can’t help it. This is the best day of my life.
Miss Erma laughs and shakes her head. She’s probably used to this reaction. But me, this is my one and only time to learn the name of my soul mate, and it’s Gavin.
“What is it? What’s happened?” asks Wanda.
She hurries over. But I can’t answer, I’m too busy spinning in a circle. I feel like Maria in The Sound of Music. Any minute, I’m going to stop spinning and start singing to the mountains.
I’ve been transported to my own personal heaven. It’s finally happened. After five years, Gavin Williams is finally back in Romeo, and according to Erma, he’s mine.
Hi Everybody! Yay!! I’m so excited to celebrate the release of my brand new romcom Chasing Romeo!
Chasing Romeo is Book ONE in my new Soul mates in Romeo series. It’s a laugh out loud, soul mate chasing, road trip romance. It has a heroine who believes in true love, soul mates, and happily ever afters, and a hero who is so cynical he takes his coffee black (because milk and sugar hide the truth). They’re like oil and water and the results are hilarious. If you’ve been hankering to go on a road trip, then it’s time to vicariously live through Nick and Chloe as they chase down Chloe’s soul mate, 1 of 7 men located across the USA.
If you haven’t already read Chasing Romeo, you can get it everywhere:
I look over at Chloe. She stares at the city, a deep longing on her face. I wonder if she’s making a wish. We’re only three hours from the last Matt. If I were a betting man, I’d say she’s about to find her soul mate. And I promised I’d get her to him, didn’t I?
Suddenly, I hate to leave Vegas. I hate to leave it and I hate to see it fade in the distance. What a turnaround from earlier today. But these next few hours are probably the last Chloe and I will have together. Ever.
Here we are, speeding down a highway in the back of a truck. The wind is so loud that conversation’s impossible. But what would I say? What could I say? Choose me?
The dust and the sand in the air stings my eyes and I rub them. Chloe turns to me. I wipe at my eyes and quirk a smile.
Thank you, she mouths.
You’re welcome, I say to the wind.
Then I hold out my hand. She looks down then back up and shakes her head no. The wish that I made, to spend the last of our time together holding her hand, vanishes. I let my hand fall. I lean my head against the truck window and stare at the darkening sky. It’s that time, when the darkness is here, but there still aren’t any stars in sight. The darkest, loneliest time of night. Then I lose a breath as Chloe moves closer, and closer still. Until her thigh presses against my thigh, and her arm presses against my arm, and her shoulder to mine. Everywhere she touches sparks and comes alive. I don’t move. I don’t even want to breathe. Because I don’t want to interrupt the feel of her body on mine. And then, she rests her head against my chest. I draw in a harsh breath. I breathe in the dry sand air that smells like thirst mixed with the perfume of her hair and her skin. My hand shakes as I move my arm and slowly wrap it around her shoulders. Then I pull her in to rest against me. It takes an eternity, but finally, she sinks into me and I hold her.
I hold her like this is both the first time and the last time.
Both heaven and hell.
She watches the city disappear and the stars appear. I watch her. The headlights stroking her skin. The wind brushing through her hair. The expressions drifting across her face as we move farther north.
All this trip, I’ve been thinking that soul mates aren’t real, and that they can’t possibly exist. In fact, I set out to prove it. But what if a soul mate is the one person who, when you’re with them, there’s no place you’d rather be? Because right now, it doesn’t matter that I don’t have a car, or money, or a phone, or that I’m in the back of a truck. None of that matters, because I’m with her. And I can’t see that ever changing. Fifty years down the road, there still will be no place I’d rather be.
I pull her closer and lean my head down on top of hers. This is it. The last of it. The end. With every mile we drive, I’m one step closer to losing her.
If there’s any wetness in my eyes, no one knows it but me and the wind.
And if there were a thousand miles more to go, not just one hundred, the ending would still be the same. I’d be here, ready to let her go, because I understand now. She needs her soul mate. And like she said…that’s not me.
I close my eyes and whisper into her hair, I love you.
That is one big yacht. Real big. The sucker has to be at least a hundred and fifty feet long. It’s a shining white, polished chrome, ginormous ode to penile one-upmanship. Matt Smith Number One is hosting a party for feline Sphynx enthusiasts. On his yacht.
It’d taken a little work to find this yacht. Number One lives in a gated community for the mega rich, movie stars, and East Coast elite. At least this is what the security guard told us when he denied our entrance to the community. Regular Joes…not allowed. Somehow Chloe managed to stupefy him with her smile and before we knew it the butler was answering the door of Matt Smith’s waterfront mansion. The butler was very sorry, but Matt was on his yacht at the harbor. Were we by any chance here for the Sphynx gathering?
Why yes…yes we were.
The butler kindly gave us directions and here we are, staring up at the most massive yacht I’ve ever seen.
“He’s my soul mate, I can feel it,” Chloe says. She stands at the end of the dock and stares at the massive yacht, her eyes all sparkly and excited.
“Doubtful. The only thing I can feel is a hundred-foot-long inferiority complex.”
She turns to me and beams, so I scowl at her.
“I don’t care what you say. I have to get on that boat to meet my Matt Smith.”
I step up next to her and look down at the gray, frothy water. It smells like fish, salt and seaweed, and there’s some slimy green plant floating on the top. Not exactly pleasant, but hey, we won’t be swimming in it. The yacht is moored a ways out, we’re going to need to talk to the dockmaster for a tender boat to drop us off.
Chloe vibrates with anticipation. When we pulled up to the mega mansion, her eyes went wide with shock. But now…I expect she’s going to start doing cartwheels down the dock.
She turns to me. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are bright. “Remember in Pride and Prejudice when Elizabeth Bennet says she first realized she loved Darcy when she saw his huuuge estate?”
“No,” I say. I cross my arms and stare at the huuuge yacht.
“Yeah. That moment.” She grins at me and bats her eyelashes.
“Please, stop. Don’t be the BBC made-for-television version of yourself,” I say.
Her eyes widen and then she starts to laugh. “You watched it. You watched it! Nick O’Shea, Mr. ‘I don’t watch romance movies’, saw Pride and Prejudice. This is amazing.”
I glower as she does a little dance and fake boxes me.
“The more cynical they are, the harder they fall,” she says.
I lift an eyebrow, a skill she always envied. “Not at all. I’m only trying to warn you.”
“Sure. This guy clearly has a major inferiority complex. He’s making up for something.”
She laughs. “Yeah right. You’re just jealous of my soul mate’s big yacht.”
Every woman alive is given one man who is guaranteed to turn her life into a monument of suck. My one man is Nick O’Shea. Every time he shows up my life gets shaken upside down and spanked.
“Untie me now, Sparky, or so help me God,” Nick says.
I smile and ignore his god-awful nickname for me. This is the absolute best day of my life. I stand over him and soak in the feeling that all wrongs in the world are about to be righted.
“Why?” I ask.
“Un. Tie. Me.” He strains against the zip ties on his wrists. I’m not going to lie, I get a flash of pleasure deep inside at his struggle.
“Did you want some birthday cake? It’s chocolate, your favorite.” I wave a pink paper plate with a big slab of cake under his nose.
Nick growls at me. Growls.
My body reacts just like it did when I was fifteen and hopped up on hormones. Unconsciously I lean toward him. Enough of that. I pick up the plastic fork and shove a piece of cake in my mouth. The fudgy frosting’s thick, rich and, let’s be honest, delicious. “Mmmm. Good.”
“Sparky…” he says. His voice is low and full of warning.
“No. Nope. Not gonna,” I say.
He looks different than he did in high school. Ten years in the military made him harder. At eighteen, his jaw was softer, his cheeks fuller…his eyes had more warmth. Now, not so much. There’s a half-inch-long scar over his right eyebrow that wasn’t there before. His cheeks are sharper. His hair’s darker and he has stubble on his jaw. I’ve never seen him with a five o’clock shadow. I think about what it would feel like if I ran my fingers over it.
I glance into his eyes. They’re blacker than I remember. He’s looking at me like he wants to throttle me. Oh well. I move my gaze to his shoulders. They’re thick and muscular and he’s wearing a white T-shirt that stretches over him.
Unfortunately, karma didn’t catch up to Nick and make his outside match the cynical jerk within. Nope. If I were to draw what he really looks like there’d be horns, a forked tongue, and a tail.
I take another bite of cake. He watches and his furious eyes linger on my lips then move down my throat. I can feel the heat of his gaze like he’s stroking my neck. Then, his gaze slowly moves over my chest and down my body. I’m in a floral wrap dress with a low neckline. His eyes linger on my breasts, which are smashed up by my push-up bra and prominently displayed.
I have the urge to cover them. Instead, I hold my ground.
“Finished?” I ask.
“Untie me,” he says.
I sigh. “Or, how about…gee, Chloe, happy birthday? It’s been such a long time. So great to see you,” I say.
He scowls. Okay, I admit that was a stretch. I don’t think Nick has ever said that it’s great to see me…except, well, once.
He turns away and looks over the community room. It’s like a birthday fairy exploded and shot out hundreds of pastel balloons, streamers and confetti.
He turns back to me. “Birthdays are a scam,” he says. “Just another day for people to fail at meeting unrealistic expectations so they can continue to disappoint each other. Likewise, Christmas and Valentine’s Day. Come on, Sparky.” He strains at the restraints.
I shake my head. “Hate to disappoint,” I say.
“No. Not at all.”
Nick sits in an antique wooden chair. His wrists are zip tied to the armrests and his ankles are tied to the spindle legs. What I can’t figure out is how he got himself into this situation. The chair’s in the middle of a pile of birthday gifts and he has a big red satin bow on his chest. Like he’s a gift.
Last week I shared the first of 5 road trip locations for my upcoming romcom book Chasing Romeo (being released on May 25). This marks week 2 of the giveaways on Instagram.
Chasing Romeo is a hilarious road trip romcom romp that takes place in cities all across the USA, from the east coast to the west. There are many, many misadventures along the road to love.
Enemies to lovers? Yes. Opposites attract? Yes. Soul mates? Yes. Laugh out loud? Heck yes.
I wanted you to be able to join in the fun. So, for all of you who want to get your summer road trip on vicariously through my upcoming romcom book Chasing Romeo, head over to Instagram and join in!
Every Monday I will post a postcard pic of a city from the book Chasing Romeo. Go ahead and follow @sarahreadyauthor, post in your story and tag me, and guess the location in the picture. I’ll randomly draw a winner every Thursday.
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