I should have known it was only a game. I should have known he was too good to be true. He’s nothing but a player... Player, an all-new sexy, standalone romantic comedy from Staci Hart, is available NOW!
He’s a player. He plays the bass with expert fingers. He plays women with intoxicating charm. And he’ll play me with the ease of a virtuoso. Who better to teach me to play than the master himself? I’m his model student, front row, pencil sharp. Pick up lines? I’ve got them. Free drinks? By the dozen. Kissing? Let me grab my chapstick. But the most valuable lesson I’ve learned is that there’s so much I don’t know. Like why his touch sets off a chain reaction straight to my nethers. Or how I’m certain each kiss is the best I’ll ever have, until the moment his lips take mine again. There’s so much I don’t know. Like the fact that I’m only a bet. But we are what we are. He’s a player, through and through. And I’m the fool who fell in love with him.
Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited! Amazon: https://amzn.to/2pF3ETl Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/PlayerSH Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2PwVrfH 
Excerpt: The night flew by, time speeding up and sliding past with nothing to mark the hours but his laughter and my smiles and our bodies bouncing around the parquet like we had nothing in the world to do but dance. I had no idea how late it was until “New York, New York” came on with the house lights. Sam hooked me under his arm and guided me out into the chilly fall evening. Like an idiot, I’d come without a jacket, and I tried to play it off like I wasn’t cold. A shiver wracked down my spine, betraying me. He shrugged off his leather jacket. “Here, wear this.” “B-but then y-you’ll be cold,” I said, shifting away from him in an effort to stop him. “Look, it’s n-not even cold. It’s f-fake cold. It’s only what—like, sixty out? M-my body is j-just being drunk and d-dumb.” “Val.” The word was a gentle warning. He held out his jacket like a matador. “Put it on.” “N-no,” I said with a laugh. He shook it once like he was taunting me. “Toro.” I giggled, stumbling a little as I brought my hands to the top of my head, pointer fingers to the stars. “Olé!” I cheered as I charged. But instead of running through his jacket, I found myself in his arms. I didn’t know how it happened. The jacket was there, and then it was gone. But instead of being laid out on the sidewalk like I should have been, Sam’s arms were hooked around my waist, our bodies winding together and twisting from the force of his catch. And then I looked up, and time stretched out in a long, still moment. His eyes on my mouth. Mine on his. His nose millimeters from mine and his mouth so close, if I turned my head just right, our lips would brush. The warmth of him was everywhere. I wasn’t cold anymore. I was on fire. So I said the first thing that entered my empty mind. “Are you going to kiss me, or am I gonna have to lie to my diary?” The moment broke with our laughter, filled the air around us, stopped my chugging heart. He pressed his lips to my forehead. I sighed. “I guess that’ll do.” He hooked his jacket over my shoulders, taking a moment to look over my face, watching his fingers as he tucked a loose curl behind my ear. “Come on. Let’s get you home. You did good tonight, Val.” “Thanks to your expert advice.” But he smiled. “Pretty soon, you’ll figure out you didn’t need me at all.” And I smiled back and pretended like it was possible that statement held an iota of truth.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 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quirkybird/ Stay up to date with Staci by joining her mailing list: http://stacihartnovels.com/get-the-newsletter/ Join Staci’s Reader Group Here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/stacihart/
Michelle's Review
 Player by Staci HartMy rating: 4 of 5 stars 3.5 Stars I really enjoyed Player it was just a little predictable to me. I did love the characters and the writing was great it just didn’t have that something that I was looking for from a Staci Hart book. That’s just my opinion hopefully yours is totally different. Give it a read and see for yourself. View all my reviews
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"A Little Too Late came right on time. Five stars!"-Brittainy C. Cherry, Amazon #1 Bestselling AuthorA Little Too Late, an all-new romantic standalone from Staci Hart is available NOW!
A Little Too Late by Staci HartPublishing Date: October 24th, 2017Genre: Contemporary RomanceI 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. Excerpt: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.
Read Today!Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2zlwcnI Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2ilmkH9 iBooks: http://apple.co/2iPPgH0 Nook: http://bit.ly/2ewscMg Kobo: http://bit.ly/2xDG7F9 Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2iZfozn 
About the AuthorStaci 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/
Michelle's Review
 A Little Too Late by Staci HartMy rating: 4 of 5 stars Emotional ...... A emotional sweet read. When you sit down with a Staci Hart book you know you're about to get something amazing. She throws herself into these books and it definitely shows. A Little to Late is a great example of that. It's sweet, emotional and full of love. You will fall in love with these characters, Hannah and Charlie are wonderful. My heart ached for these two and their story will have you in tears. You will fight for them, cry for them and celebrate with them. Phenomenal writing and a wonderful story. View all my reviews |
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