Work in Progress by Staci Hart - ARC Review & Blog Tour

Her fake husband is a Work In Progress…

I never thought my first kiss would be on my wedding day.

But here I stand, clutching a bouquet of pale pink roses behind the doors of a Las Vegas chapel, and at the end of the aisle is the absolute last man I imagined would be waiting for me.

Thomas Bane.

Bestselling author. Notorious bad boy. Savagely handsome, dark as sin, chiseled as stone. And somehow, my soon-to-be husband.

Marry him, and I’ll land my dream job. Save him, and I’ll walk away with everything I’ve ever wanted. All I have to do is remember it’s all for show. None of it is real, no matter how real it feels.

But first, I have to survive the kiss.

And with lips like his, my heart doesn’t stand a chance.

Amelia is shy. She's quiet, reserved, inexperienced and wants to stay in the quiet corners of the world.

Thomas wants...well, none of those things. But, what he needs is an image makeover, and a reason for his publisher to think that taking a chance on his next book is worth the risk.

Who better than the shy book blogger who hates everything he writes? She's quiet, she will keep him out of trouble, she won't be a distraction, and he will be able to get everything he wants.

OOPS.

That went differently in his head. And, in Amelia's too.

I enjoyed this story. The marriage of convenience between 2 opposites who want very different things in life, but come to realize that one of the things they want is a chance to be with one another.

I loved watching them realize this. The writing was strong, and it really showed the evolution of the characters as they decided they wanted to move forward together and be a couple. I liked Amelia, and I believed in her as a person...which is a tough thing to write as she was so sheltered, so reserved, that it would have been easy for her to not seem authentic. The opposite for Thomas...he was such a huge personality that making him into the bull in a china shop with no redeeming qualities would have also been easy to do. Neither was a problem here, and I enjoyed the title because of the strong characters.

I enjoyed and recommend this title.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DmTuOU

Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/WorkinProgress

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2QvdaTV

The hall bathroom door opened, consequently stopping the earth’s orbit and flinging me into space for lack of gravity. Thomas Bane stepped out of the doorway in slow motion, propelled by a cloud of steam that licked at his glistening body like it wanted to taste him. His hair was black, wet, curling and dripping in rivulets down the planes and valleys of his expansive chest and abs and narrow hips. He had that thing, the trough of muscle bracketing his hips that caught sluicing water and carried it in an angle that would eventually reach that unknown terrain beneath his towel. I saw the ghost of that terrain, the long, cylindrical bulge that was substantial enough to clearly state its presence, even through the thick towel. He smirked, dragging his hand through his wet hair. I salivated, watching droplets of water roll down his forearm and collect on the tip of his erotic elbow. “You’re up,” he said. I blinked, not knowing when I’d set my coffee down or how many minutes—hours? years?—had passed in the time I spent ogling his body. He sauntered into the room like he wasn’t basically naked. I tried unsuccessfully not to stare at his knees, the place where his ropy thigh connected, the angular muscles of his calves, the curve of his ankle, the broad pad of his foot. He was perfectly proportioned. Michelangelo would have carved him twenty feet tall, and women would have worshipped at his perfect feet. Gus bounced when he saw Tommy, his toys forgotten. And when Gus took off running, Tommy stopped, eyes widening and hands splayed in front of him. “Gus, no,” he commanded. To no one’s surprise, Gus did not listen. He barked once, snagged the hem of Tommy’s towel, and whipped it off him in a single tug that exposed every inch of skin on Thomas Bane’s ridiculous body. Thank God my coffee was already on the counter. I’d have gotten third-degree burns. For a split second, Tommy was frozen there in all his natural glory, poised to run after his dog, his face drawn and eyes locked on the sweet, disobedient dog. He wasn’t paying any attention to me. I, however, gave him my full and undivided consideration. His thighs were a mass of muscle so hard and defined, the tops were planes that came to a notch at his knee and a point where it met his hip. My eyes caught that trough that had before disappeared and followed it where it pointed—straight to the thatch of dark hair and the member nestled there. The very thick, very long, mostly limp member. If I stared at it a second longer, I was going to faint—my vision was already dim, my pulse pumping so hard, I could feel it in my neck, at the back of which a cold sweat had broken. But he shifted to run after Gus, who was galloping away, trailing the towel behind him. “Dammit, Gus! Gimme that!” Then it was the back of him I saw, his hair, the streaming water rolling down all the curves of his shoulders, his back, the valley of his spine, and down to the most perfect ass I’d ever seen in real life. Well, the only ass I’d ever seen in real life that wasn’t my own, and even that I couldn’t get a good look at without a mirror. Seriously, that ass. That perfectly sculpted ass, round and tight and curved in the sides, shifting from one side to the other as he ran after the damn dog. My gaze caught a tattoo on one ass cheek, and I squinted at it, trying to make it out. Tommy bent to snag the end of the towel—I caught sight of his sack and almost dissolved through the floor in an acidic puddle of embarrassment—but when he pulled, Gus spun around, ass in the air and tail wagging as he growled, pulling back. A string of obscenities left Tommy’s mouth, but I was still gaping and staring at his ass. I realized that I was laughing. It sounded like someone else in a different room. I wondered absently if this was how it felt to have a stroke.

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Work in Progress by Staci Hart - Release Blitz

Her fake husband is a Work In Progress… 

Work in Progress, an all-new romantic comedy from Staci Hart, is available now!

PIECE OF WORK BY STACI HART - ARC REVIEW AND BLOG TOUR

Marble isn’t the only thing that’s hard at this museum.

His body is as chiseled as Adonis. His lips are as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim.

You know the type—wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole. The kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. My cocky boss thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know.

But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devil lips, that is. Lips that cut me down and kiss me in the same breath, leaving me certain he’s on a mission to ruin my life.

And maybe my heart.

I really enjoyed this title.  It's a combination of a workplace, boss and employee romance, an older man/younger woman and an ugly duckling story.

Rin is young, she is an intern, and she is learning that in order to be heard she has to be willing to be visible and make people listen in order to succeed as an intern, and in her bigger goal of becoming part of the museum community.  This is her greatest struggle, as she is accustomed to trying to blend in, to look plain, and to look smaller.

Court is older, established, and knows his place in the world and the life he wants to live.  He is used to being his own man, although he struggles to make sure the things he does are not shadowed by his relationship to his father, who is also prominent at the museum where they both work.

Rin and Court are at very different places in their lives, and that allows them to really work well together and with one another.   It also makes it easy for them, at first, to ignore their attraction to one another, as it is one they both know they should not pursue.  As, often in real life and even more often in romance novels, the attraction becomes more than they are able to ignore, and things get steamy "in front of a 600 year old Jesus".  Yes, really.

I really liked the characters, except for a couple, but they are dealt with, and the story was mostly believable although at points it was a little predictable.

I enjoyed this overall and I recommend it.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2rEZono

Add to GoodReads: https://bit.ly/2pT693W

He smirked and flipped up his sunglasses. Bastard. “You’re early,” I clipped. “I would have had my assistant text you, but she’s currently bedridden.” “You could have texted me.” “I didn’t have your number,” he said simply. “Oh.” His eyes shifted to look behind me, and I turned to find my friends standing me in a row with my suitcase in front of them, my messenger bag on top, and fake smiles on all their faces, lips together, their judgment about as quiet as a foghorn. “These your roommates?” “Yup,” was all I said as I turned and took my suitcase, hugging each of them down the line with promises to text when we landed. And then I turned to Court, rolling my suitcase in front of me like like a riot shield. I tried to pick it up to carry it over the threshold, but it was heavy, and before I could get far, he’d swept it out of my hands like it was a loaf of bread and not fifty pounds of mascara and shoes. I waved at my friends, who offered encouraging smiles and hand gestures, and I closed that door, immediately regretting every decision I’d made to bring me to the moment I turned around. He stood at the door to the backseat, holding it open for me like a gentleman, which I knew he was not. But the look on his face of regret and deference, under the hard shell of his brooding, was almost too much to bear. So I did the only thing I could. I ignored him. I ignored his gorgeous lips as they tilted and the sleek cut of his jaw as I walked past him. I ignored the sight of his long legs as he climbed in next to me and the smell of him that made me want to grab him by the lapels of his jacket and bury my nose in his chest. The driver took off, and I busied myself in my bag, looking for my headphones and book. His eyes were on me. I pretended like I didn’t notice. “You’re not wearing lipstick,” he stated. Headphones, headphones, headphones. “It’s an international flight, Court. Of course I’m not wearing red lipstick for a ten hour flight.” A pause. “Rin, I—” Aha! I popped in my earbuds the second they were in hand. His lips flattened, his face unamused. Rin, his lips said, but I smiled and shrugged, pointing to my ears. “Noise canceling,” I said way too loud. His chest rose and fell with a sigh I couldn’t hear—I’d already turned on music, a playlist we’d built the night before geared toward resisting douchery and unwanted-slash-totally-wanted advances—and he reached into his own bag, a leather affair at his feet, his hand disappearing into the bag and reappearing with a book, which he handed to me. He watched me with his expression shrouded as I paused, my eyes on the offered book. An image of Penitent Magdalene by Tintoretto filled the cover, and I met his eyes, pulling my earbuds out by the cord. “I thought you could use this. For your proposal,” he said, giving nothing away. “I…A colleague of mine wrote it, so if you have any questions, I can connect you. If you want.” I took it from his hand, surprised and disarmed. “Thank you,” was all I said. He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but closed it, and with a nod, he reached back into his bag for his own book. Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake. I put my earbuds back in place, trying not to bite my lip, but it found its way between my teeth despite the effort at the sight of him sitting there, dressed like that, reading Margaret Atwood. After giving me a thoughtful gift, a book he knew I would want, one I would need for my dissertation. Court Lyons made about as much sense to me as a scrambled up Rubik’s Cube. I leaned against the door as I flipped through his gift, doing my best to sort through the rush of questions and confusion as Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s sang about being cheated by the opposite of love. And I found I knew exactly the feeling.

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2rN64Rn

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

PIECE OF WORK BY STACI HART - RELEASE BLITZ

Marble isn’t the only thing that’s hard at this museum.

His body is as chiseled as Adonis. His lips are as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim.

You know the type—wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole. The kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. My cocky boss thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know.

But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devil lips, that is. Lips that cut me down and kiss me in the same breath, leaving me certain he’s on a mission to ruin my life.

And maybe my heart.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US 

Add to GoodReads

About Staci

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

Connect with Staci

Amazon I Facebook I Website 

Join Her Reader Group Here

PIECE OF WORK BY STACI HART-COVER REVEAL

Piece of Work, an all-new sexy romance from Staci Hart, is coming May 17th! 

Marble isn’t the only thing that’s hard at this museum.

His body is as chiseled as Adonis. His lips are as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim.

You know the type—wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole. The kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. My cocky boss thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know.

But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devil lips, that is. Lips that cut me down and kiss me in the same breath, leaving me certain he’s on a mission to ruin my life.

And maybe my heart.

Add to GoodReads

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics. 

Connect with Staci

Amazon I Facebook I Twitter I Pinterest I Website I Newsletter

Join Her Reader Group Here

LIVING OUT LOUD BY STACI HART - BLOG TOUR

Bestselling author Staci Hart brings you another installment of the Austen Series, inspired by the works of Jane Austen, with a heartfelt contemporary retelling of Sense and Sensibility.

When Annie Daschle arrives in New York City, the only thing she can control is her list.

Not her father’s death or the loss of her home. Not the hole in her heart or the defective valve that’s dictated so much of her life. But she can put pen to paper to make a list of all the ways she can live out loud, just like her dad would have wanted.

See the city from the top of the Empire State Building: Check.

Eat hot dogs on the steps of The Met: Check.

Get a job at Wasted Words: Check.

What wasn’t on her list: Greg Brandon. And just when she thinks she’s figured out where to put him, everything changes. In the span of a few staggering heartbeats, she finds herself her caught in the middle of something she can’t find her way out of, with no clear answers and no rules.

List or no list, she realizes she can’t control anything at all, not even her heart.

Not the decisions it makes, and not the moment it stops.

This is my first title by Staci Hart, so I went into it not totally knowing what to expect. I have definitely heard of the author, and I am a Jane Austen fan, so I was immediately intrigued by the premise of the story.

I enjoyed the writing style and the dialogue was not only smooth but was in character for each of them, and in a lot of places, I thought the author used the dialogue as a way of showing the age differences and how they were dealing with it. The book flowed nicely and was balanced well with the description of the characters, the plot and actual movement of the story.

Annie and Greg were interesting, although there were times where I felt I was not totally able to connect with Greg and I definitely feel I got to know Annie a lot better than I did Greg. And, while this is understandable as it was really her story, at the same time I was left feeling like I wanted to know a little more about him, and his character, than I was given in the story.

The romance was enjoyable and I thought, by addressing it head on and early, the author did a good job of handling the rather large age gap between them, and doing it in such a way as I was left able to relate to the characters. I liked this, as when the author sets an age gap like this and then ignores it, I am left feeling like possibly the author set up a plot issue that they didn't know what to do with...not so in this case.

Overall, I liked it. I think I could have been more involved with the relationship if I had felt more engaged with Greg, but it was enjoyable overall and I will read other titles by this author.

I recommend this book. 

GREG We chatted as we walked down Fifth to the bike rental station and unlocked one of the blue bicycles. And a little while and one park bench later, we were walking through the park in search of a grassy stretch off the beaten path. We found what we had been looking for—a space lined with trees, somewhat shielded from the rolling, open knoll by boulders jutting up out of the grass. “This looks good,” I said, lowering the kickstand before taking off my backpack. She pulled off her bag, looking nervously at the bike as she took a seat in the grass. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her cheeks and forehead, her face a little pale. “You sure you’re okay?” I asked, eyeing her. She smiled—her favorite way to answer. “It looks worse than it is. Promise.” I frowned. “Really, maybe the bike is too much. Maybe we can do this after your surgery.” “Greg, I’m fine. Come sit by me for a minute.” I kept my arguments to myself and sat next to her. “The cool air feels so nice,” she said, gathering up her hair and pulling it over one shoulder, exposing her neck. “When they fix your heart, will you still feel like this?” “No. I should be able to do anything physical I want within a few weeks of the surgery.” My brows drew together. “Really? After open-heart surgery?” “Really. It’s not like a heart transplant or anything. The hardest part of my recovery will be the incision and the fusing of my sternum back together.” A shudder tickled its way down my spine at the thought of a bone saw opening her rib cage. “What all will they do to your heart?” “Close the hole, repair my valve. I’ve had open-heart surgery before, but I was too little to remember anything about it. The scar is the only proof that it happened. Well, that and my mother’s stories. But this shouldn’t be too hard on the muscle itself, just some sutures when it’s all said and done. My body will work a lot more efficiently once the surgery is complete—like, immediately. I just have to get through the whole split-ribs thing,” she said with a little smirk. “All right, I feel better. Are you ready?” She looked better. Her cheeks and lips were tinged with color, and the waxy quality her skin had taken on was gone. “Ready when you are.” We got to our feet, and I stepped to the bike to lower the seat. Once it was down, I waved her over. “Come here and see if this works.” She climbed on cautiously, her feet on the ground and her hands gripping the handlebars. The seat was probably too low, but I figured it’d be better for her center of gravity—plus she could stop herself easier if she tipped. “Okay,” I started, one hand on the back seat and my other on the handlebar next to her hand, “I’m gonna hang on and hold you steady while you pedal.” She shot me a worried glance. “And if I fall?” “You get up and try again.” She laughed, not looking convinced. “Don’t worry; you’re not going to hurt yourself on the grass, but I’m not going to let you fall. I’ve got you, okay?” With a deep breath, she nodded once. “Okay.” “All right. Put your feet on the pedals.” My grip tightened when the balance was all on me. “Ready?” “Ready,” she echoed with determination. “Now, pedal.” She did, moving us both forward, the bike only wobbling a little bit under her. “Good, let’s go to that tree. Just keep it slow like this.” Her tongue poked out of her lips, her hands white-knuckled on the handlebars until she got to the tree. And when she smiled, it was with more confidence. “I did it!” I laughed. “You did. Come on, let’s go back. Ready?” She nodded, and we took off again. This time, she wobbled a little less, speeding up until I had to trot next to her to keep up. When we stopped at our backpacks, she cheered. “Again!” “All right,” I said on a chuckle. “I’m just gonna hang on to the back this time. And…go.” I did just that, my hands on the back of the seat, the handlebars swerving a little but nothing she couldn’t correct. And then I let go. She didn’t notice, wholly focused on staying upright, and I kept jogging, pulling up beside her. When she glanced over, I held my hands up in the air and wiggled my fingers. Her face opened up with joy, and a whoop passed her lips—just before she swerved into me. A string of expletives hissed out of me as I tried to grab her, but it was too late. She tumbled into me, bike and all, taking us down to the cold grass. Annie was lying on top of me, her hair tossed across her face. The ground was cold and damp under me, and the handlebar of the bike was jammed into my ribs, but I barely even noticed. Not with Annie sprawled out across my body, her green eyes sparkling and her laughter ringing in my ears. My own laughter met hers like an old friend. “Are you okay?” I asked, sweeping her hair out of her face to tuck it behind her ear. She flushed but made no move to pull away from me. “I’m fine. Are you okay?” “I’ll live.” We watched each other for a moment through the rise and fall of my chest, the movement carrying her like a rocking ship. And then she giggled again, climbing off me before reaching for the bike. It was then that I began to fully comprehend the depth of the trouble I’d found myself in. 
 

Download Today or Read Free in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2FvEr3A

Amazon Universal: http://mybook.to/LivingOutLoudLIVE

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2rcBm5Z

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.
 
Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

TONIC BY STACI HART-SIGNED PAPERBACK GIVEAWAY

**BLOG BIRTHDAY GIVEAWAY! SIGNED COPY OF TONIC BY STACI HART!**

Joel Anderson doesn’t take anything seriously.

Not his relationships, which have been few and far between since his brutal divorce. Not the drama of working in a tattoo parlor, which seems to be around every corner. When things get him down, he smiles and cracks a joke. But he’s not the kind of man you cross, or you’ll find yourself at the wrong end of his fists.

Annika Belousov takes everything seriously.

Like her job as a reality television producer, given that she typically has something to prove. Or her love life, which is defined by a series of requirements — affluent, ambitious, accomplished, to name a few. Definitely her family, who worked their whole lives to afford her every opportunity, a sacrifice she doesn’t take lightly. When she’s tapped to produce a reality show at Joel’s shop, she doesn’t think twice, just goes in for the kill, as if there were any other way.
The second Annika walks into Joel’s shop, he makes it his mission to crack her open, but she’s not having it. He’s all wrong — too crass, too hairy, too un-serious. But it doesn’t take her long to find out there’s more to him than smirks and tattoos. And what she finds could put her career and his heart on the line.

Not that Joel cares. Because for the first time in a long time, he’s found his tonic.

*** A standalone Romantic Comedy ***

a Rafflecopter giveaway

LIVING OUT LOUD BY STACI HART - RELEASE BLITZ

Bestselling author Staci Hart brings you another installment of the Austen Series, inspired by the works of Jane Austen, with a heartfelt contemporary retelling of Sense and Sensibility.

When Annie Daschle arrives in New York City, the only thing she can control is her list.

Not her father’s death or the loss of her home. Not the hole in her heart or the defective valve that’s dictated so much of her life. But she can put pen to paper to make a list of all the ways she can live out loud, just like her dad would have wanted.

See the city from the top of the Empire State Building: Check.

Eat hot dogs on the steps of The Met: Check.

Get a job at Wasted Words: Check.

What wasn’t on her list: Greg Brandon. And just when she thinks she’s figured out where to put him, everything changes. In the span of a few staggering heartbeats, she finds herself her caught in the middle of something she can’t find her way out of, with no clear answers and no rules.

List or no list, she realizes she can’t control anything at all, not even her heart.

Not the decisions it makes, and not the moment it stops.

Download Today or Read Free in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2FvEr3A

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2rcBm5Z

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics.

 

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

LIVING OUT LOUD BY STACI HART-COVER REVEAL

Living Out Loud, an all-new emotional standalone from Staci Hart is coming February 1st!

Title: Living Out Loud

Author: Staci Hart

Publishing Date: February 1st

Cover Designer: QuirkyBird Designs

Photographer: Lauren Watson Perry, Perrywinkle Photography

When Annie Daschel arrives in New York City, the only thing she can control is her list.

Not her father’s death or the loss of her home. Not the hole in her heart or the defective valve that’s dictated so much of her life. But she can put pen to paper to make a list of all the ways she can live out loud, just like her dad would have wanted.

See the city from the top of the Empire State Building: Check.

Eat hot dogs on the steps of The Met: Check.

Stand in the middle of Times Square: Check.

Get a job at Wasted Words: Check.

Two things not on her list: Greg Brandon and Will Bailey. And just like that, she finds herself caught in the middle of something she can’t find her way out of, with no clear answers and no rules.

List or no list, she realizes she can’t control anything at all, not even her heart.

Not the decisions it makes, and not the moment it stops.

Inspired by Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility.

Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2rcBm5Z

About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics. 

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A LITTLE TOO LATE BY STACI HART-BLOG TOUR

"A Little Too Late came right on time. Five stars!"-Brittainy C. Cherry, Amazon #1 Bestselling Author

A Little Too Late, an all-new romantic standalone from Staci Hart is available NOW!

A Little Too Late by Staci Hart

Publishing Date: October 24th, 2017

Genre: Contemporary Romance

I wasn't supposed to fall in love with the nanny.

When my wife left, she took the illusion of happiness with her, and I've been caught in a free fall ever since. For nine long months, I've been fighting to figure out how to be a single dad, how to be alone.

For nine long months, I've been failing.

When Hannah walked through the door, I took my first breath since I'd found myself on my own. She slipped into our lives effortlessly, showing me what I've been missing all these years. Because Hannah made me smile when I thought I'd packed the notion of happiness away with my wedding album.

She was only supposed to be the nanny, but she's so much more.

The day my wife left should have been the worst day of my life, but it wasn't. It was when Hannah walked away, taking my heart with her.

CHARLIE The next morning, I was up and in my office before anyone was awake, attacking my work with newfound enthusiasm and a plan in mind. Because I wanted to feel like I’d felt the night before in the kitchen again, and there was only one way to get that back. Today, I would take a few breaks and be present. Today, I would change, work be damned. Today would mark the first real attempt. Because change wouldn’t happen on its own. I had to make it happen. And to make it happen, I would have to put boundaries in place, starting with my weekends. I checked the clock around eleven that morning and closed my laptop, pushing away from my desk and heading up the stairs in search of my children. When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I found them sitting at the table with their lunches. And when they saw me, their smiles validated my grand plans with unwavering certainty. “Hey, guys,” I said, smiling back as I walked over to them, ruffling Sammy’s hair when I passed him. “Hi, Daddy,” he said. Maven’s mouth was full, so she just waved, and Hannah smiled at me from the island where she was setting up a spread for sandwiches. I snagged a grape off Maven’s plate and popped it into my mouth. She handed me another, which I accepted. “Thanks, pumpkin.” “Are you done working?” Sammy asked hopefully. “’Fraid not, bud. But I thought I’d come have lunch with you. Is that okay?” “Yeah! Want a Nilla Wafer?” “Psh, obviously. And I thought we could play for a little bit before I have to get back to work. What do you say?” He nodded, grinning. “We can play trucks! You be the bulldozer and I’ll be the tractor and Maven can be the monster truck and Hannah can be the ambulance because she helps people.” “Perfect,” I said on a chuckle. A burst of color caught my eye. A vase on the windowsill behind the table held a spray of red and orange tulips. “Those are beautiful,” I said, gesturing to them. “Where did they come from?” “Oh, I picked them up this morning,” Hannah said with that ever-present smile. “Feeling homesick?” “Always a little. But I love having fresh flowers in the house, something bright and delicate and alive. Well, maybe not alive anymore, but it feels alive, doesn’t it?” “It does,” I said as I moved to her side. “Can I make you a sandwich?” Hannah asked. “Nah, I think I can manage, thanks. How’s it going this morning?” “It’s good. We went to the park this morning.” “I rode my bike!” Sammy crowed. “Did you? No bumps or scrapes?” “Nope!” “I’m impressed. Maybe next time I can come too,” I said, hoping it was something I could deliver as I reached into the bread bag for a stack. Hannah turned to the cupboard, returning with a plate for me. “Thank you.” She was still smiling, standing at my side, assembling her sandwich. It was so mundane, something completely and utterly boring, but like the weirdo that I was, I found myself watching her hands as she folded cold cuts. We worked around each other—not that it was complicated, but there was a sort of rhythm between us, a natural pace wherein I used what she wasn’t and finished just as she needed what I had. I wasn’t sure why I noticed it, but I did, and I appreciated the simple synchronicity of the moment, a breath where things were easy. I passed her the mustard as she handed me the ham. “So, I was thinking …” I paused. “Oh, were you?” She glanced over at me with a hint of mirth at the corners of her lips. “I know. I almost sprained something.” Hannah laughed gently. “If it’s okay, I think I’d like to try to handle bedtime tonight.” “Of course it’s okay; they’re your children.” That time, her laughter was sweet. “Do you … would you … do you think you could maybe …” She shifted to face me, her eyes full of encouragement. “Would you mind … helping me?” Hannah nodded, her smile opening up. “That’s what I’m here for. Just let me know what you’d like me to do.” I smiled back. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds stupid. I just … I haven’t done this much on my own, but I’d like to start.” Her eyes softened, caught by slanting light, lighting up with sunshine. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said simply. I didn’t speak. “There’s no right or wrong, and they don’t care about anything other than you being there. It’s simple enough; you only have to try.” “Is it really that easy?” “It really is. You’ll see.” She reached for my arm and gave it a squeeze that wasn’t meant to be anything but friendly but held something more, something in the pressure in her fingertips and the depths of her eyes. It was something I did my very best to ignore. But I felt the heat of those fingertips long after they were gone, even as we sat across the table from each other eating lunch, the tulips in the vase behind her bowing their long heads as the sunlight illuminated them, exposing what was hidden within their petals.

  

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About the Author

Staci has been a lot of things up to this point in her life -- a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can't forget that. She's also been a mom, with three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She's been a wife, though she's certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She's also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she's been drinking whiskey. From roots in Houston to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she's not writing, she's reading, sleeping, gaming, or designing graphics. 

 

Connect with Staci:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2hv5OA5

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/stacihartnovels

Twitter: https://twitter.com/imaquirkybird

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/imaquirkybird/

Website: http://stacihartnovels.com

Newsletter: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/