If I Fall (Falling For You)

Anthology cover

This autumn, warm your heart with ten fall-themed novellas from some of your favorite USA Today bestselling, national bestselling, and award winning Harlequin Superromance authors.

When the weather cools down, hearts heat up…

Bonfires aren’t the only things warming up the night. Across the land, hearts are falling along with the leaves. Curl up with a pumpkin spice latte and warm your heart with ten tales of autumn love, including:

If I Fall by Kris Fletcher
What goes up must fall…in love?

For a limited time, you can get Falling For You – all ten novellas of small-town love – for the pre-order price of just 99 cents.  The anthology will release October 17. The price will go up after that date, so grab your copy early!

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Excerpt

I would have made a clean getaway if not for the canoe in the middle of the dance floor.

“Son of a … ” I closed my eyes against the pain racing from my toe. Well, more precisely, the point where my big toe had smacked into the supports holding the canoe in place.  For about the seven thousandth time, I wondered why my brother had agreed to hold his wedding reception at Comeback Cove’s premier summer camp. Banners on the walls and canoes strategically placed to hold gifts and desserts weren’t my idea of ambiance. I wondered, too, how bridesmaid shoes that felt as stiff as steel-toed boots could do so little to protect my feet. And then I wondered how I was supposed to escape from my Uncle Lou with a throbbing toe, a skirt that offered about six inches of walking space, and a make-your-own s’more canoe/bar standing between me and freedom. Could things get any worse?

“Problem, Whitney?”

One order of worse, coming up.

No need to open my eyes to recognize the speaker. Jed O’Donnell’s voice was almost as familiar as that of my brother. Appropriate, since they had been best buds since their Popsicle days.

The feelings his voice incited, however, were decidedly not brotherly. Which was why I’d spent the months before the wedding doing my best to avoid anything more than the most buddy-buddy kind of contact with Jed.

It hadn’t worked, of course. The best man and the maid of honor are almost required by law to be in close touch, coordinating their efforts, even when the MOH isn’t really the MOH but simply the local fill-in because the real MOH was busy flying around the world doing her Highly Successful Executive thing. So Jed and I had spent a lot of time talking. And planning. And laughing.

And lusting, though that was strictly on my side.

 

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