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SURPRISE! Hate the Player, a slow burn and hilarious romantic comedy from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is LIVE EARLY! “Roses are red, violets are blue, stay away from Andrew Watson’s *ahem* because no other women ever do.” That’s quite the way to start a conversation at a casual lunch, huh? Grilled chicken, French fries, and pelvic-fatigue, oh my! And that’s not even the worst of it. My friend Raquel didn’t pull any punches when she warned me about my brand-new co-star and his notoriously player-esque ways. Apparently, my most important mission on my first role in a feature film is to stay immune to his charms. Are you kidding me? Production costs on this movie are in the hundreds of thousands a day, and staying away from a panty-whispering, vajayjay-charmer is supposed to be at the top of my list? Pfft. Puh-lease. It doesn’t matter that he’s annoyingly attractive, uber rich, crazy famous, and lusted after by ninety percent of the female population; Andrew Watson is trouble with a capital T—especially for a woman like me. As a preventative measure, I’ve decided to go ahead and hate him. Don’t worry, you guys, I’m completely in control. There’s absolutely no way I’m going to do something stupid like fall in love with him. I can hate the player but still secretly love his addictive game. I’m sure of it. Download your copy today or read for Free on Kindle Unlimited! Amazon: https://amzn.to/2C7tklj Amazon Worldwide: https://ift.tt/2OpsXoR Add Hate the Player to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/2ZLb2y4 About Max Monroe A duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads. Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far. Connect with Max Monroe BookBub: http://biQUARTER MILES (Runaway #3) Release Date: July 21st Purchase Details: https://ift.tt/32EcsNZ Katherine Gates has been in love with Cash Greer since the moment he saved her life from a runaway goat. According to Cash, she’s the little sister he never had, the greatest roommate in the world and his favorite coworker. They’re friends—best friends. In the dark days of her youth, it was her friendships that kept her alive and made life in a junkyard worth living. So she’s learned to shove her feelings for Cash down deep, even if that means ignoring eyes that shine brighter than the Montana summer sun and the smile that illuminates the snowiest winter day. Except with every passing year, the denial takes its toll on her wounded heart until one day Katherine decides to take an impulsive road trip to the Oregon coast. Alone. That is, until Cash cons his way into the passenger seat. The farther they travel, the harder it is to pretend. And when she confesses her feelings, she learns that Cash has some secrets of his own. Secrets that will either bond them together. Or rip them apart. EXCERPT “Why did you turn the air on?” she asked, looking above us to the open air. “I’m hot.” Desperate. What would it take for her to put on a goddamn sweater? “Are you wearing sunscreen?” “Uh, no.” She gave me a sideways glance. “Why?” “You’re going to get burned.” Get the sweater, Kat. You know you want to. “I’ll be fine. At the next gas station, I’ll grab a bottle for us.” Us. Why did that word sound so serious? It wasn’t the intimate kind of us. There was no us. Not in the couple sense of the word. Did I want there to be an us? Yes. That lightning-fast internal response nearly had me slamming on the brakes, turning this car around and going back to Montana, where the world was normal. Kat was my friend. My best friend. Roommate. Coworker. Pseudo sibling. There were days when I’d trade Easton for her permanently. Okay, any day. There were plenty of ways to label our relationship and us was not one. I could not—would not—tear down the boundaries that nearly a decade and firm family reminders had put in place.