Title: Truce? Hating Elijah Monroe
Author: Amelia Kingston
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About Truce? Hating Elijah Monroe:
A small town
enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy.
Harper Delaney is a newly certified elementary school teacher with the mountain of student loan debt to prove it. Moving back to her claustrophobically small hometown is about as tempting as two week old sushi, but the allure of free rent and a guaranteed summer teaching job are undeniable.
On the hunt for her dream job in San Francisco, Harper just needs to survive the summer without murdering Elijah Monroe. He may have grown into a scorchingly hot fireman, but he’s still her nemesis. Harper gave Elijah her heart when she was sixteen, and never forgave the jerk for not wanting it. Probably for the best, since he's also her stepbrother.
Elijah still makes Harper’s blood boil and heart race. And he knows it. She’ll wipe that smug smirk off his gorgeous face before leaving town. The only question is if she wants to do it with a kiss or a slap.
Harper Delaney is a newly certified elementary school teacher with the mountain of student loan debt to prove it. Moving back to her claustrophobically small hometown is about as tempting as two week old sushi, but the allure of free rent and a guaranteed summer teaching job are undeniable.
On the hunt for her dream job in San Francisco, Harper just needs to survive the summer without murdering Elijah Monroe. He may have grown into a scorchingly hot fireman, but he’s still her nemesis. Harper gave Elijah her heart when she was sixteen, and never forgave the jerk for not wanting it. Probably for the best, since he's also her stepbrother.
Elijah still makes Harper’s blood boil and heart race. And he knows it. She’ll wipe that smug smirk off his gorgeous face before leaving town. The only question is if she wants to do it with a kiss or a slap.
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Exclusive Excerpt:
Elijah tugs the baseball bat off my shoulder but not out of
my hands. Sliding up to the handle, his hand finds mine. Our fingers brush in
the lightest of torturing touches. My eyes spring open to find him peering down
at me. I lean in, falling into him. Falling for him.
“You aren’t a big fan of”—his eyes drop to my lips—“space.”
His voice is almost a whisper. His breath is warm and minty. That intimate
surge of electricity courses through me. I hate the way my body responds to
him, even after all these years.
“That’s what you think?” I snap, louder than I need to
be.
He’s close enough our chests brush together with every
heavy breath.“That’s what I know.”
“Know?” I scoff, but don’t pull away. “Since when do you
know anything about me?”
He smirks. His eyes find mine. They are filled with a
familiar devious glint that shakes my resolve to hate him forever. Just a little.
“Short Stack, I know everything about you.”
“Know thy enemy?”
“You’re not my enemy, Harper.” He sighs, dropping the bat
and stepping back. “And I wish you’d stop trying to make me yours.”
And just like that, the moment is broken. He examines me
for the millionth time, same as when we first met. I know I still don’t pass
his test when he shakes his head and stalks back to the kitchen. I follow right
behind, drawn to him against my will and my better judgement.
He shoves one of Beverly’s delicious cookies into his mouth
and I screech, “Those are mine.”
“All two dozen?”
“Yes,” I declare without shame. Okay, maybe just a little
shame.
Through a mouthful of my cookies, he retorts, “They aren’t
even your favorites.” Crumbs tumble down to the front of his shirt and
chocolate is smeared in the corner of his mouth. He looks like a little kid
caught in the cookie jar. It shouldn’t be adorable, but on Elijah, of course it
is.
I cross my arms and cock an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what is, Mr.
Know-it-all?”
His eyes lock on mine. They shine with smugness. I keep my
face stoic when he opens the fridge. I don’t react when he pulls out the cake.
But when he forks a bite straight off the platter I lose it.
“Cut a slice like a normal human being, you Neanderthal.”
“Why bother? I’m going to eat the whole thing. Might as
well conserve the dishes.”
I eye my beloved cake desperately, every forkful a stab to
my heart. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” he challenges as he shoves another massive bite
in his sexy mouth. I lick my lips. Elijah Monroe and devil’s food cake, the two
most delicious things in the world combined to bring me to my knees.
“Fine. It’s my favorite. Now, please put the fork down and
step away.”
His broad, beautiful smile makes my heart stop and my
stomach flip. “Sure thing, Short Stack.”
Connect with Amelia:
Amelia Kingston is many
things, the most interesting of which are probably California girl, writer,
traveler, and dog mom. She survives on chocolate, coffee, wine, and sarcasm.
Not necessarily in that order.
She’s been blessed with
a patient husband who’s embraced her nomad ways and traveled with her to over
30 countries across 5 continents (I’m coming for you next, Antarctica!). She’s
also been cursed with an impatient (although admittedly adorable) terrier who
pouts when her dinner is 5 minutes late.
She writes about strong,
stubborn, flawed women and the men who can't help but love them. Her irreverent
books aim to be silly and fun with the occasional storm cloud to remind us to
appreciate the sunny days. As a hopeless romantic, her favorite stories are the
ones that remind us all that while love is rarely perfect, it’s always worth
chasing.
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