Long and Short Reviews welcomes Roni Loren who is celebrating the recent release of The One for You, the fourth book in her The One Who Got Awayseries. Enter the Raffleocpter for a chance to win a set of the first three books in the series: The Ones Who Got Away, The One You Can’t Forget, and The One You Fight For.

The highly-anticipated fourth book in Roni Loren’s unforgettable The Ones Who Got Away series.

She got a second chance at life. Will she take a second chance at love?

Kincaid Breslin wasn’t supposed to survive that fateful night at Long Acre when so many died, including her boyfriend—but survive she did. She doesn’t know why she got that chance, but now she takes life by the horns and doesn’t let anybody stand in her way.

Ashton Isaacs was her best friend when disaster struck all those years ago, but he chose to run as far away as he could. Now fate has brought him back to town, and Ash doesn’t know how to cope with his feelings for Kincaid and his grief over their lost friendship. For Ash has been carrying secrets, and he knows that once Kincaid learns the truth, he’ll lose any chance he might have had with the only woman he’s ever loved.

Enjoy an Excerpt

A sleepy voice came through the door. “Come in.”

Kincaid opened the door and found Ash shifting to sit up in bed, shirtless, tattooed, and with full-on bedhead. Every womanly cell in her body gave a cheer of appreciation, and she had the sudden annoying urge to tilt her head and twirl her hair like a smitten schoolgirl. Luckily, she stopped herself from that embarrassment. She wasn’t there to ogle.

“Everything all right?” Ash asked, swiping a hand across his face and trying to wake up.

Kincaid lifted the phone. “Your ex has been burning up your phone. I got aggravated and answered. Sorry. She’s still calling herself your fiancée, and I believe she wants to yell at you about something.”

Ash groaned. “Hell no. I’m not starting my day off with that. Tell her I’ll call her later or just hang up.”

“I could. Or,” Kincaid said conspiratorially, “we could have a little fun and piss her off in the process. You game?”

His eyebrows lifted, mischief in the tilt of his lips. “I could possibly be game.”

Kincaid grinned and unmuted the phone so they could be heard. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” she said in a flirty voice to Ash. “Rise and shine.”

Ash cocked his head in confusion, but when he saw the look on her face, he caught on fast. “Morning, gorgeous.”

Kincaid put a knee on the bed, knowing the guest bed squeaked and that Melanie would be able to hear and draw her own conclusions. “I know you wanted to sleep in after last night, but that Melanie woman has some sort of emergency and just couldn’t wait.”

Ash smirked, a deliciously evil look on his face. “Baby, you know you shouldn’t be answering my phone this early. We have better things to do right now.” Ash grabbed Kincaid’s wrist and tugged her forward, making her tumble onto the bed and inadvertently laugh. She landed next to him, and he lifted her arm to his mouth, kissing the tender skin of her wrist with an audible sound. On the phone, that kiss could be imagined anywhere.

Kincaid’s skin heated despite the fact that this was a farce. “You probably should take it or she’ll keep calling. I don’t want to be interrupted in the middle of anything, you know?”

Ash chuckled softly, this deep, private laugh, a lover’s laugh. It sent hot shivers through Kincaid, waking up sensations that had been dormant as of late. “Of course not. Wouldn’t want that. Give me just a minute.” He took the phone, the smile dropping from his face. “Melanie.”

Kincaid could hear the rapid-fire voice through the line and remained next to Ash on the bed. Melanie was saying something about him leaving the apartment messy when he moved out. About the landlord keeping the deposit.

Ash grunted, his tone and entire demeanor bored. “I wasn’t paying for a cleaning service to clean up after you. Just because you moved out first doesn’t mean it was my mess. You made this mess.”

More yelling on her end, the volume notching up.

“Melanie,” Ash said patiently, “clearly you feel passionately about this. I can’t say I give a shit, so that puts us at an impasse. How about you send me back your ring, and I’ll consider sending you half the deposit? Otherwise, I’ve got better things to do right now.”

Melanie’s next words were clear as a bell. “Right. You probably can’t even afford the deposit. Are you back to the living-on-ramen plan, Ash? Don’t have your woman’s money to use up now? Or did you just find a new one to pay the rent?”

Ash’s teeth clenched, his skin flushing red from the neck up—the words a match to a fuse. Kincaid saw what was happening, the fire racing up through him. She’d been there. That moment when an ex or a bully gets the best of you, and you stoop to their level. You lose your shit and end up looking like the dumb one or the hysterical one or the one who still cares too much. No way was she letting Melanie win this round. Without thinking, she scrambled to sit up and then swung her leg over Ash’s middle, straddling him.

Ash’s lips, which had been parted to yell, froze in almost comic silence. His shocked gaze jumped up to Kincaid’s, her ambush plan working to stop him in his tracks. She took the phone from him and put it to her ear. “Hey, sugar, time’s up. And I can promise you, neither of us are here for each other’s money. Don’t call again. Bye now.”

Melanie gasped. “Kincaid.”

Kincaid bit her lip, not sure if it was good for Melanie to know her identity and to think she and Ash were together, but that cat was already bolting away from the bag, too far to catch.

“Ugh,” Melanie said into the phone. “I should’ve known. He always had a taste for the cheap stuff.”

Kincaid smiled, almost entertained. Oh, sweet, misguided Melanie. If Melanie were here, she’d pat her on the hand and shake her head at the lame attempt. The woman was going to have to do better than that to get under her skin. “Oh, bless your heart. It’s so cute when women try to throw other women under the bus just because a guy’s involved—or in your case, two guys. Really moves that feminist needle forward, don’t you think? You should burn a bra.”

“You—”

“Enjoy your new relationship, sugar,” Kincaid said, cutting her off. “I hope you two are made for each other in every way.”

Melanie was silent, and Kincaid took the opportunity to hang up.

She tossed the phone to the side and braced her hands on either side of Ash on the bed. “Well, if you needed a sign that things aren’t going so well with her new guy, that was a clear one. If she were happy, she wouldn’t give a damn about a couple hundred dollars of a deposit, especially when she has money. And she certainly wouldn’t care if you were sleeping with me—”

“Kincaid.”

“And I know I probably shouldn’t have answered. But she wouldn’t let up, and I just couldn’t help it and—”

“Kincaid—” Ash said more urgently.

“What?”

“You need to—” He grabbed her by the waist, shifting to hoist her off him, but before he could, she sucked in a breath as she became all too aware of the distinct firmness beneath her.

“Oh shit,” she said, rolling herself off him as if he’d caught fire.

Ash made a pained sound and fell back against the pillow. “Yeah, that.”

“I…uh.” Her cheeks burned as she sat up.

Ash pulled the covers higher and shifted onto his side so the blanket wouldn’t reveal his current condition. He gave her a droll look as he propped his head on his hand. “I really appreciate the effort to irritate my ex, I do. But maybe don’t straddle a guy first thing in the morning. Little hard to control things.”

Kincaid couldn’t stop a snort from escaping. “Did you just say a little hard?”

Ash gave her a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look and then hit her with a pillow.

She laughed as she defended herself from the blow and then couldn’t stop, the laughter bubbling up from deep in her belly. “A little hard,” she said between laughs. “Maybe more than a little. I mean, give yourself some credit.”

***

Excerpted from The One for You by Roni Loren. © 2019 by Roni Loren. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

About the Author: Roni Loren wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. She holds a master’s degree in social work and spent years as a mental health counselor, but now she writes full time from her cozy office in Dallas, Texas where she puts her characters on the therapy couch instead. She is a two-time RITA Award winner and a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author.

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Roni Loren who is celebrating the upcoming release of The One You Can’t Forget on June 5, the second book in the Ones Who Got Away series. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of the first book in the series The Ones Who Got Away.

Most days Rebecca Lindt feels like an imposter…

The world admires her as a survivor. But that impression would crumble if people knew her secret. She didn’t deserve to be the one who got away. But nothing can change the past, so she’s thrown herself into her work. She can’t dwell if she never slows down.

Wes Garrett is trying to get back on his feet after losing his dream restaurant, his money, and half his damn mind in a vicious divorce. But when he intervenes in a mugging and saves Rebecca—the attorney who helped his ex ruin him—his simple life gets complicated.

Their attraction is inconvenient and neither wants more than a fling. But when Rebecca’s secret is put at risk, both discover they could lose everything, including what they never realized they needed: each other

She laughed and kissed him. This morning she’d melted down. But somehow this man had her laughing and turned on only a few hours later. Everything inside her felt buoyed.

She felt…light.

She’d forgotten what that felt like.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Wes parked the van in front of the house and cut the engine. “Well, I’ll take it as a good sign that your car is still here. If those guys showed up with your keys, they would’ve taken your ride.”

Rebecca frowned. “No. I didn’t have my car keys with me since I walked today, but at least everything looks the same as how I left it. Plus, my car keys are hanging on a peg in the kitchen. They wouldn’t be hard to find.”

Wesley eyed her. Her voice was confident, but she kept smoothing the leg of her scrubs, her hands like nervous birds not knowing where to settle. He had the weirdest urge to hug her and tell her it was going to be all right, to take that fear from her. But a sure way to freak her out even further would be for some strange dude she’d just met to hug her. He was freaked out enough for both of them that he even had that urge. “Hey, why don’t you tell me where your spare key is hidden, and I’ll go in and check the house for you first.”

There. That was a reasonable, not weird way to help.

She glanced his way, frowning. “If the alarm’s on, I need to turn it off, and I don’t want to sit out here. That’ll stress me out more than going in with you. I’m the only one who will be able to tell if anything’s been moved anyway.”

“Fair enough. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable is fine. But the minute something seems off or out of place, we bail and call the cops. Pinch my arm or something to signal me.”

Her frown deepened, a little line appearing between her brows, as if she couldn’t quite figure him out.

He couldn’t stop his smile. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re trying to figure out a really hard math problem.”

“I wouldn’t make this face for math. I’m good at math.” She let out a breath. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you’re being so nice to me. You don’t…know me.”

“Does that matter? If I knew you, would I not want to help you out?”

She stiffened. “What?”

He tilted his head. “I mean, are you secretly some evil comic-book villain who’s about to take over the city? Or do you have plans to kill me and store my body in your basement when we get inside?”

Her pinched expression flattened into something droll. “Austin houses don’t have basements.”

“Whew.” He wiped his brow. “I’m safe.”

She snorted and then covered her nose and mouth like she was surprised the sound had escaped. “You’re kind of strange, Wesley Garrett.”

He shrugged. “I get that a lot.” And that was a helluva lot better than what most people probably called him these days. “Now, are we going to bravely search your house like two TV detectives? Because I am so down for that right now. I need to bang open doors and yell, ‘Clear!’”

She laughed, the soft, husky sound filling the space between them and sending a pleasant ripple through him. The feeling was so unfamiliar that it stalled his breath for a second. How long had it been since he’d been around someone he could simply joke with and relax around? Someone who wasn’t looking at him like he was damaged goods? Or who wasn’t checking him for signs of a backslide?

He didn’t get clean-slate conversations like this anymore. Not with his family. Not with friends. Not even with himself. Rebecca felt like a gulp of clean, fresh air. He wanted to close his eyes and inhale. In this moment, he could be a man with no past. He could be whoever he wanted to be. And right now, he wanted to be the guy who was making this woman laugh.

She cocked her head. “You say that like you’ve been planning to do this TV detective routine for a while.”

“It’s a life goal,” he said solemnly. “I mean, I’ve done it at home alone, but that really isn’t as fun. Plus, it pisses off the neighbors. All those banging doors.”

She laughed again, and he felt like he’d won some kind of prize. She seemed like someone who didn’t give those laughs away easily.

“Now all we need are weapons,” he declared.

She reached into the bag of takeout and pulled out the eco-friendly cornstarch forks Dev used in place of plastic cutlery. “How’s this?”

“Perfect. We can go for the eyes.” He took his fork and grabbed the keys. “Let’s do this.”

“I’m ready.” Some of their playing around must’ve distracted her from her nerves because when Rebecca got out of the van, her shoulders seemed looser and there was a tentative smile on her face. She nodded toward the house and set her fork on the hood. He followed suit, since if he really had to take action, he’d need his hands free. “My extra key is by the back door.”

They headed around the house and into the small backyard. She hunched near an overgrown herb garden and fished around, finally coming up with one of those fake rocks. She flipped it over and keyed in a three-digit code on a spinner combination lock.

Wes snapped a leaf off one of her plants and inhaled the scent. “Mmm, lemon thyme. You’ve got quite a collection out here. Cilantro. Oregano. Italian parsley. I’m a little jealous.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I honestly have no idea what most of them are or what to do with all of them. I had the house landscaped when I moved in, and I guess the gardeners picked the perfect spot because they grow like crazy. Except the basil, which was the one I actually knew how to use. That one was a goner during the first hundred-degree day of summer.”

“Basil is a sensitive soul.” It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he could show her how to use the herbs, but he held the offer back. His brother had been right. Making her laugh was like some weird sort of drug to his starved system, but she didn’t need a guy flirting with her right now. It couldn’t go anywhere anyway. He didn’t date, for one. And even if he was doing the casual hookup thing these days, she didn’t strike him as the type who’d be down for that, especially with someone like him. He had nothing to offer her besides garden-care tips.

About the Author: Roni wrote her first romance novel at age fifteen when she discovered writing about boys was way easier than actually talking to them. Since then, her flirting skills haven’t improved, but she likes to think her storytelling ability has. After earning a master’s degree in social work from LSU, she worked in a mental health hospital, counseled birthmothers as an adoption coordinator, and did management recruiting in her PJs. But she always returned to writing.

Though she’ll forever be a New Orleans girl at heart, she now lives in Dallas with her husband and son. If she’s not working on her latest story, you can find her cooking, reading, or picking up another hobby she doesn’t need. She is a two-time RITA Award winner and a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author.

Buy the book at Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Indiebound, or Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Yes, earlier it was a big tough to cure impotence as online cialis discover over here there are limited options to combat erectile failure. Obesity affects hormones When body mass index goes past the overweight category (BMI of 25-29.9) into the obese category (BMI of 30 and above), hormonal changes may occur levitra from india unica-web.com in the female body. Natural Treatments for Male Impotence While herbal remedies and acupuncture are some of the factors include: Psychological factors: If you are sexually stimulated. viagra for women It functions by stimulating the nerves around the sexual parts of a man cialis viagra generico thereby leading to an erection.