The third book in the Hollywood Hearts series is coming out next month. Here are a few teasers from books one and two.
With a trembling hand, Meg picked up her list of questions then cleared her throat. When her gaze met his, she noticed an amused air, as if he was stifling a chuckle. Andy interrupted them to bring in the coffee and water. Chaz closed long fingers around his coffee cup and leaned back. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She put the paper down on her desk. “Look, I know you’re famous. My brother is famous…”
“Mark Davis. Star quarterback for the Delaware Demons, right?”
“He’s my twin.”
“You don’t look at all alike. Can you toss a football?” A smile curled his lips.
“Like I haven’t heard that one before. I don’t give a damn you’re famous, okay. Can we get that straight? I’m not impressed, not going to grovel at your feet. You’re simply a potential client whose money I may be managing. No more and no less. I’m not going to swoon and ask for an autograph or throw myself at you. Of course, I’ll do my best to take care of your money as if it was my own, but that’s as far as it goes.”
“Way to use your charm on me to win my business.” Chaz leaned forward.
“I don’t need charm; I have brains.” A smug smile crossed Meg’s lips.
“Whoa! Oh, yes…Harvard M.B.A., right? Harvey told me.” Chaz sat back in his chair again.
“Right.” Meg leaned back, too, folding her arms across her chest.
“Yale School of Drama here. So don’t condescend to me. I’m not a ‘dumb’ actor in love with himself. And you’re dressed pretty hot for a financial advisor with only dollars and cents on her mind. Not that I’m objecting. I love eye candy…great rack, too…” He grinned at her then pulled out his cell phone.
“Eye candy? Rack? Did you say rack? Why the nerve! Is that your cell phone? Turn it off…” She rose up out of her seat.
“My cell phone is my livelihood. I’m not going to miss an audition or an opportunity to read a script because you want my phone off. And rack is a more polite term than some men would use.”
Megan sank down in her chair, speechless, while Chaz returned a text message.
“I think perhaps you should talk to someone else here…” She stood up and moved toward the door, but Chaz’s strong grip on her arm stopped her.
“Sit down,” he said quietly.

Raven-haired Susanna Barnes pushed open the unlatched door. Quinn Roberts, stuck up, rich boy movie star. With a kid. Great.
“Hello?” She called out, stepping just inside the doorway.
“In here…twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” called a deep voice.
She moved toward the sound, stopping a few feet from the entrance to the living room. When she glanced up, she saw the almost-naked, suntanned body of a muscular man, hanging by his hands from a metal pull-up bar stretched high across the entryway. Her gaze wandered over the flexing, sweaty muscles of his shoulders then back and down to his hips. Boxers…cute butt. Farther down were strong thighs tapering to Bermuda-shorts-perfect calves and bare feet.
When she cleared her throat, he dropped off the exercise device and turned around.
“Do you always greet people in your boxers, Mr. Roberts?” She cocked an eyebrow as her stare roved over his damp chest covered with a smattering of brown curly hair, stopping at his waist. Shoulders as wide as a basketball court.
He grabbed a black, terry towel from a nearby chair and wrapped it around his middle. Color flooded his cheeks.
“Sorry about that. Is it ten already?” He stuck out his hand to shake hers. “And it’s Quinn.”
His lopsided grin, dark turquoise eyes, crinkling at the corners, and sexy brown hair falling over his forehead caught her off guard. His presence filled more than the small hallway, it filled the entire apartment.
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