If the best man and maid of honor are both single, it’s practically an unwritten rule that they should pork.
…so begins a rocky acquaintance between Jean-Christian “J.C.” Rousseau and Libitz Feingold at the wedding of J.C.’s brother and Lib’s best friend. While manslut best man J.C. is surprised when maid of honor Libitz soundly spurns his advances, his curiosity is piqued. The girl he couldn’t have becomes the only one he wants.
So, when he finds a seventy-year-old portrait in the attic of his sister’s mansion that bears an uncanny resemblance to the prickly gallery owner, he enlists her help in solving a mystery seven decades in the making. Traveling from Philadelphia to New York to Marseille, a couple who started off as enemies will discover that even cynics can find true love…and mortal man is no match for destiny.
*All books in The Blueberry Lane Series can be enjoyed as standalone novels.*
“You must be the famous Libitz,” he’d opened, taking his assigned seat beside her, and flashing his sexiest grin.
After all, if she was his chosen conquest for the weekend, there was no time like the present to work his wiles. Wearing a simple black sheath dress with aqua circles, 70s-style mod make-up and oversized silver and crystal chandelier earrings that almost brushed her thin shoulders, she’d turned to him and blinked those wide, all-seeing eyes.
“And you…must be kidding.”
Taken aback, he’d stared at her for a second before chuckling. “Wha—I mean, how’s that?”
“Let’s start over,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Here’s your line, Romeo: “Hi, I’m Γtienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.” Want to give it a try?”
He cleared his throat, his smile fading. “Hi, I’m Γtienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.”
She locked eyes with his, her lips neutral, neither tilted up nor down. “Hi. I’m Libitz Feingold, Kate’s best friend…and it’s not cold enough.”
“What?” asked J.C., feeling completely turned around.
"It’s not cold enough in hell for me to fall for someone like you,” she said, then shifted back around to talk to the person on her other side.
Well, fuck me, thought J.C., taking another gulp of beer as he tried to figure out if he was insulted or impressed. After a moment, he nudged her in the side with his elbow and she looked at him over her shoulder, her expression annoyed.
“Yes?”
“I hear the temperature’s dropping there,” he said casually, then added, “because they’re expecting a visit from you.”
"Ha!” she chortled, a genuine grin brightening her eyes for a moment before she quickly reigned it back in to practiced ennui. “Is that right?”
He shrugged, tipping his bottle of beer back as he held her eyes, challenging her to come back at him with something clever. “So I heard.”
“From all the friends you’ve got there?”
He almost spit his beer out. Damn, but she was quick.
"Truce?’ he asked, placing his beer on the table and holding out his hand.
She stared at his hand for a moment, then looked away, leaning forward to pick up her champagne glass and bringing it slowly to her lips. “No, thanks. Mama didn’t raise no fool.”
“You’re unreal.” She shook her head, that bored look still in place.
"Nope. I’m real. I’m just not a good target for charming scamps looking for trouble.”
"A target? Shit. Who got to you?” he asked, feeling a little abused by her insta-judgement of him without actually getting a chance to know him in person. Not that she was wrong exactly. But getting into trouble with the right person could be a hell of a lot of fun.
“The list is long and distinguished,” she shot back.
His eyes widened and his lips wobbled.
“Oh, God,” she said, shaking her head as her cheeks bloomed an appealing pink under her make-up. “I walked right into that one didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” said J.C. with what he hoped was a disarming grin. “All together, now…”
“So’s my Johnson,” they said at the same time, quoting the rebuttal line from Top Gun.
“Hey, look at that,” he said, still smiling at her. “You do know how to have fun. I was beginning to worry.”
Her smile instantly faded. “You’re not as cute as you think you are.”
"Yeah,” he said, nodding as he finished the last of his beer. “I am.”
After all, if she was his chosen conquest for the weekend, there was no time like the present to work his wiles. Wearing a simple black sheath dress with aqua circles, 70s-style mod make-up and oversized silver and crystal chandelier earrings that almost brushed her thin shoulders, she’d turned to him and blinked those wide, all-seeing eyes.
“And you…must be kidding.”
Taken aback, he’d stared at her for a second before chuckling. “Wha—I mean, how’s that?”
“Let’s start over,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Here’s your line, Romeo: “Hi, I’m Γtienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.” Want to give it a try?”
He cleared his throat, his smile fading. “Hi, I’m Γtienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.”
She locked eyes with his, her lips neutral, neither tilted up nor down. “Hi. I’m Libitz Feingold, Kate’s best friend…and it’s not cold enough.”
“What?” asked J.C., feeling completely turned around.
"It’s not cold enough in hell for me to fall for someone like you,” she said, then shifted back around to talk to the person on her other side.
Well, fuck me, thought J.C., taking another gulp of beer as he tried to figure out if he was insulted or impressed. After a moment, he nudged her in the side with his elbow and she looked at him over her shoulder, her expression annoyed.
“Yes?”
“I hear the temperature’s dropping there,” he said casually, then added, “because they’re expecting a visit from you.”
"Ha!” she chortled, a genuine grin brightening her eyes for a moment before she quickly reigned it back in to practiced ennui. “Is that right?”
He shrugged, tipping his bottle of beer back as he held her eyes, challenging her to come back at him with something clever. “So I heard.”
“From all the friends you’ve got there?”
He almost spit his beer out. Damn, but she was quick.
"Truce?’ he asked, placing his beer on the table and holding out his hand.
She stared at his hand for a moment, then looked away, leaning forward to pick up her champagne glass and bringing it slowly to her lips. “No, thanks. Mama didn’t raise no fool.”
“You’re unreal.” She shook her head, that bored look still in place.
"Nope. I’m real. I’m just not a good target for charming scamps looking for trouble.”
"A target? Shit. Who got to you?” he asked, feeling a little abused by her insta-judgement of him without actually getting a chance to know him in person. Not that she was wrong exactly. But getting into trouble with the right person could be a hell of a lot of fun.
“The list is long and distinguished,” she shot back.
His eyes widened and his lips wobbled.
“Oh, God,” she said, shaking her head as her cheeks bloomed an appealing pink under her make-up. “I walked right into that one didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” said J.C. with what he hoped was a disarming grin. “All together, now…”
“So’s my Johnson,” they said at the same time, quoting the rebuttal line from Top Gun.
“Hey, look at that,” he said, still smiling at her. “You do know how to have fun. I was beginning to worry.”
Her smile instantly faded. “You’re not as cute as you think you are.”
"Yeah,” he said, nodding as he finished the last of his beer. “I am.”
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NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling series!
Breaking Up with Barrett is the first of six books about the Philadelphia-based, wildly-handsome English brothers who are all on the look-out for love.
(Except Alex. He's a womanizing manwhore. And maybe Stratton, because he's wicked hot, but super awkward around girls.)
Barrett English, aka "the Shark," is the fair-haired, first-born of the English brothers, and the CEO of the oldest, most prestigious investment banking firm in Philadelphia. He rules the boardroom with an iron fist, refusing to take no for an answer and always getting his way.
Emily Edwards, a first-year doctoral student at the University of Pennsylvania, grew up in the gatehouse on the outskirts of Barrett's childhood estate. The daughter of his family's gardener and housekeeper, she was always looking through the window of privilege, but forced to remember her place at the very periphery of the kingdom.
When business partners suggest that a fiancee might soften Barrett's image over business dinners, he approaches Emily for the "job" of fiancee. And while love wasn't necessarily on Barrett's radar, he begins to realize that Emily always has been. But will his take-no-prisoners boardroom tactics work on the heart of the woman he loves?
Twenty-five books later, Katy claims authorship of the multi-titled, New York Times and USA Today Blueberry Lane Series, which follows the English, Winslow, Rousseau, Story, and Ambler families of Philadelphia; the six-book, bestselling ~a modern fairytale~ series; and several other standalone novels and novellas.
Katy’s first modern fairytale romance, The Vixen and the Vet, was nominated for a RITA® in 2015 and won the 2015 Kindle Book Award for romance. Katy’s boxed set, The English Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1–4, hit the USA Today bestseller list in 2015, and her Christmas story, Marrying Mr. English, appeared on the list a week later. In May 2016, Katy’s Blueberry Lane collection, The Winslow Brothers Boxed Set, Books #1-4, became a New York Times E-book bestseller.
In 2016, Katy signed a print-only agreement with Spencerhill Press. As a result, her Blueberry Lane paperback books will now be distributed to brick and mortar bookstores all over the United States.
Katy lives in the relative wilds of northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out at the woods, and her husband, two young children, two dogs, and one Blue Tonkinese kitten create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very best love stories begin at home.
Win a signed copy of each book in the series (USA & Canada only)
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