Buzz Books 2023: Romance

Buzz Books 2023: Romance®

Contents

Introduction

Kacen Callender, Stars in Your Eyes (Forever)

Rosie Danan, Do Your Worst (Berkley)

Etta Easton, The Kiss Countdown (Berkley)

Leigh Heasley, The Once and Future Fling (W by Wattpad Books)

Jenny Holiday, Earls Trip (Kensington)

Justinian Huang, The Emperor and the Endless Palace (MIRA)

Marianna Leal, As Long as You Love Me (W by Wattpad Books)

Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is A Vampire (Berkley)

Taj McCoy, The Good Ones Are Taken (MIRA)

Yamile Saied Méndez, Love Of My Lives (Kensington)

Mary Jo Putney, Silver Lady (Kensington)

Kylie Scott, The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck (Graydon House)

Jo Watson, What Happens On Vacation (W by Wattpad Books)

Opal Wei, Wild Life (Harlequin)

Credits

Copyright

Introduction

The eighth annual edition of Buzz Books: Romance provides substantial prepublication excerpts from 14 forthcoming romance titles. Enjoy access to the best romance voices the publishing industry is broadcasting for the upcoming season as you discover new series, catch up with the latest installments from beloved series, and find great standalone titles from top romance authors.

From power players such as Jenny Holiday and Mary Jo Putney and to fan favorites Rosie Danan and Kylie Scott, these authors are bestselling, award-winning, and irresistible.

Discover debut rom com authors Etta Easton, Leigh Heasley, Justinian Huang, and Jenna Levine, then round out your reading list with more contemporary titles by Kacen Callender, Taj McCoy, and Yamile Saied Méndez.

Start enjoying books right now that are sure to show up on your personal must read lists. Then invite your reading friends and book groups to download their own free copy of Buzz Books 2023: Romance from any major ebookstore or at buzz.publishersmarketplace.com.

For the best in soon-to-be-published other fiction genres, plus nonfiction, and children’s literature, be sure to read Buzz Books 2023: Fall/Winter, available now. Then be on the lookout for the next edition of Buzz Books covering the spring/summer 2024 publishing season, available in January.

SUMMARY

Logan Gray is the stereotypical bad boy of Hollywood—a talented but troubled actor who the public loves to hate. Mattie Cole is an up-and-coming golden boy, adored by all but plagued by insecurities. When Mattie is cast as the love interest in Logan’s newest film, the two are persuaded into a fake-dating scheme to bring positive publicity to the project. But as the two actors get to know their new characters, real feelings start to develop. And while both need the movie to be a success for their own reasons, neither thought opposites would really attract. But as the public scrutiny intensifies and old wounds resurface, will they have the courage to chase their own happily ever after?

EXCERPT

Deadline Exclusive:

[Two photos, side by side: twenty-three-year-old Matthew Cole with freckled brown skin, curly brown hair, and dark brown eyes, wearing a pink graphic t-shirt and a cheerful grin; twenty-four-year-old Logan Gray with lighter brown skin, straight-wavy black hair, and dark brown eyes lined by long eyelashes, wearing all black and a bored scowl.]

Matthew Cole has joined the cast of the much-anticipated film Write Anything (a pun on the 1989 film Say Anything), based on the New York Times bestselling romance novel by Cordelia Cameron about two male authors who are forced to work together and inevitably fall in love. Logan Gray has already been cast in the lead as Quinn Evans; Matthew Cole will play opposite as Riley Mason. The film is slated to be released early next year.

* * *

Video begins:

YouTube personality star Shaina Lively sits in front of bright yellow lights; in the background is an office, wall plastered with posters for various rom-com films. Shaina leans into the camera and begins to speak with a Southern accent:

"Hey, y’all! I know you’re just as excited as I am to hear the news that Matthew Cole will be joining the cast of Write Anything!"

She screams and jumps up and down in her seat.

"Oh, my God, I’m sorry, I’m just beside myself. I love this book, and I love Mattie, so I know this is going to be a match made in heaven. Ah!

"Now, I’ve already started to hear some grumbling complaints that Matthew is too young and that he isn’t a serious actor—but if anything, it’s really Logan Gray that we need to be worried about. Yeah, I know he’s won Oscars or whatever, but I’m willing to bet each and every one of you that Logan is going to mess up this film someway, somehow, and our poor Matthew is gonna pay the price. And if that happens, I might just have to shank a bitch."

She gives a warm smile. Well, that’s all for now! Until next time.

She blows a kiss at the camera.

Video ends.

Mattie

I’m led down halls with fresh white paint and tiled floors that smell like bleach. I’m wheezing and sweating, trying to take a deep breath and cool down before I enter the room, desert heat still sticking to my skin. I’m very late. I know I’ll get some points knocked off on first impressions for that alone, and I don’t think anyone will take an I’m sorry, I’m not used to LA traffic as an excuse anymore. It might’ve worked for my first role, but I’ve been in and out of the city going on a year now.

Samantha, the assistant who leads me down the halls, seems as nervous as me, and that’s saying something. Are you sure you don’t want a water? Coffee? she asks for the third time.

I’m okay, I say, still breathless. I catch her looking at me, gaze flitting away quickly, and I realize—oh, yeah, I’m supposed to be famous. I’m still not used to it. Love Me Dearly was released about six months ago, and after the promo tour ended, I wasn’t prepared for this kind of everyday attention. I feel self-conscious and try not to pull at my shirt, a nervous habit my manager, Paola, said I should work on.

Samantha opens the door for me at the end of the hall. I thank her as I hurry inside, trying not to flat-out run but also not wanting to stroll like I’ve got all the time in the world. The room has one huge conference table with a dozen or so people seated around it in a circle, and there’s a smaller table pushed up against the farthest wall with coffee and fruit. As soon as I step inside, everyone’s heads turn to me. My heart thuds. You’d think an actor would be all right with so many eyes on him, but my big secret is that I still have stage fright.

Matthew!

The director, Dave Miller, stands up. He’s white and has gray sideburns with a patchy beard. His button-up has a dot of a coffee stain on the collar. He pats my shoulder as he gestures to the room. Everyone, Mattie. Mattie, everyone.

There’s a mix of friendly smiles and handwaves and exhausted nods. I’m nervous not only because I’m standing in a room full of strangers who are staring at me but because of who the strangers are. I’ve watched most of these actors in my favorite shows and movies since I was a kid. And now I’m going to be in a movie with them. That’s the actual dream, and I’m still amazed each and every day that I’ve managed to make it this far. Now I just have to make sure I don’t screw it up.

One person at the table hasn’t bothered to look in my direction. Logan Gray. For a moment, I think that he might be asleep. He has shades on even though we’re inside and the room isn’t very bright, and he wears a hoodie that admittedly looks extremely comfortable as he leans back in one of the conference room chairs, his boots up on the chair next to him. He emits a small snore. Yep, definitely asleep.

I’d auditioned for the lead in Write Anything. Riley Mason is a great character, but he feels similar to the roles I’ve had before: upbeat, optimistic, the character audiences automatically love. I’m worried about being typecast so early in my career, and I wanted to push myself with Quinn Evans. Quinn is…more complicated. He messes up, hurts himself and others in his own attempts to grow. He’s the sort of character that’s more challenging for an actor. If I’d gotten the role, it would’ve been hard work to stay true to Quinn and the source material. It would’ve been difficult to find glimmers of sympathy for his character while delving into the pits of his self-loathing, all while trying to make him sympathetic to the viewer, too.

I was beside myself to get cast in a movie like this at all. The screaming and crying and jumping up and down with my mom and my sister is one of my happiest memories. I have to admit that I was also disappointed to lose the role out to Gray, though I can’t say I’m surprised. Gray’s been typecast as well. He’s the kind of actor who screams drugs and sex in a way I probably never will, no matter how much I try. "He has that edge," my publicist said.

Gray is among the actors I admire. He’s got raw talent. I’ve studied him. I’ve watched interviews with him, trying to figure out a kernel of his magic. I’m amazed at how easily he scoffs at technique and process. He rolls his eyes at interviewers whenever he’s asked about craft, saying that it’s just a fancy word assholes made up as an excuse to say who is allowed to be nominated for awards and who is not.

And there was the other, more recent interview I’d seen with Gray, too, just two weeks before, right after I was cast. A bolt of anger flashes through me, but I remember what I’d decided: I’ll pretend I never saw the interview at all. That’s what I’ll have to do, if I’m going to be able to work with him.

Dave either doesn’t notice that Logan is fast asleep, or he’s used to this behavior. He invites me to grab a seat, and I sit down awkwardly in between Scott Anders (five-time Oscar award–winning actor, one of the greatest actors of all time, I could watch and rewatch his brilliant performance in Duchess Down literally a thousand times, and I’m pretty sure I have) and Monica Meyers (nominated for Best Supporting Actress five times, though she has not yet won, clearly a coup, especially for her heart-wrenching performance in The Sky Cries). Scott grins and shakes my hand and says he was a big fan of my performance in Love Me Dearly, and I have to force the inner fanboy to calm down, while Monica purses her lips, probably miffed that I’m late.

Copies of the script with each actor’s name on the covers have already been passed around. This is technically the second table read, but since I was brought on so late in the process, it’s my first. Writers and assistants and a ton of other people sit in chairs along the wall of the conference room with copies of the script, pens ready and laptops open. More people to perform for.

Dave sits at the head of the table and adjusts his ball cap. Someone wake up Sleeping Beauty, he says, opening his script.

Samantha rushes forward. She clears her throat and taps Gray’s shoulder. He doesn’t stir. She tries again. Mr. Gray…?

He grunts something, sits up—looks around the room like he’s forgotten where he is, and maybe he has.

Dave opens his script. Gray, if you don’t mind removing your sunglasses so that we can see those beautiful brown eyes of yours.

Gray doesn’t move for one long second as he stares at Dave silently. The awkwardness level rises to about one thousand. I shift uncomfortably. Heat begins to radiate in the room. Dave, again, doesn’t seem to notice as he licks a finger and turns the page of the script, but it’s clear to everyone that we won’t begin until Gray does what he was asked.

Logan removes the shades. There are a few (okay, maybe a little melodramatic, we are actors after all) gasps around the room. I swallow thickly. A purple bruise flourishes over Gray’s swollen right eye.

Dave glances up. Oh, Jesus Christ.

Same old shit, right? Gray says, voice hoarse.

This isn’t a joke. God, fucking… He twists in his seat to look at an assistant. There isn’t any footage in the tabloids, is there?

***

Video begins:

A crowd in a nightclub has formed. Streaks of lights blur across the screen, but Logan Gray’s face is clear for one moment. Another man shouts in Logan’s face unintelligibly. Derogatory slurs based on sexual identity are used by the unknown man. He is notably much larger than Logan. Logan only smiles for one moment, before he spits in the stranger’s face. There are gasps, the camera shakes, and while the video shows shoes and boots and heels, there is the distinct sound of a fist impacting skin.

Video ends.

***

From the awkward glances, it’s clear that there is footage in the tabloids. I haven’t seen it myself because I try to stay away from papers and gossip sites. That’s a one-way ticket into a weekend of self-pity and depression. Even the word tabloids makes certain phrases echo in my mind: wannabe Tom Holland, Leonardo DiCaprio in his prime if Leo wasn’t as talented or cute. Ouch.

Dave rubs his temples. Damn it. Sam, set up a meeting with me and Logan’s manager. What’s her name again? Louise?

Audrey.

Let’s see if we can stop this man-child from ruining the film before it’s even begun. Sam nods and excuses herself.

If Logan has any feelings on being called a man-child, he doesn’t show them. Getting punched in the face hasn’t impacted my ability to read, he says.

Dave’s eyes narrow dangerously for one moment, before he straightens. Then let’s begin.

The morning’s drama firmly put aside, the professionals around me open their scripts, and the table read starts. Richard, the AD, speeds through the narration and directions so that the actors can focus on their roles, the writers on edits and Dave announcing his own thoughts every now and then. Even though I play opposite the lead, I don’t appear until a few scenes in, so I get to sit back in my chair and watch the magic of my idols.

Gray is amazing, of course, even half-asleep, with a black eye, and possibly a hangover. He transforms into Quinn Evans: charismatic, smug, an asshole you can’t help but love. Monica already brings tears to my eyes with her reading as his mother, widowed and worried that Quinn will never open his heart to finding true love. Scott, Quinn’s boss, has too understated a role to really take advantage of his enormous talent, but I assume there are publicity reasons he’s been brought on, along with a ton of money. Keith Mackey, playing Quinn’s best friend and comic relief sidekick, lands all the laughs, even when Dave murmurs something to one of the head writers, who nods in agreement and starts to scribble red all over the script.

My heart begins to speed up. I’d started acting in junior high, but this fear—the jump before the performance—has never gone away. If anything, it’s only gotten worse. But once I’ve done it—once I’ve managed to leap from the cliff and fly through the air—the exhilaration soars through me, and every time I seem to forget how much I hate the feeling of nervousness that comes right before I open my mouth.

Keith leans back in his chair with a grin, swiping bleached hair out of his face. Hey—pretty boy, he says, glancing up at me.

I swallow. My words begin to blur on my script. Sorry, do you mean me?

I can hear the hollowness in my voice. It doesn’t ring true. There isn’t enough authenticity. I clear my throat. Scott glances up from beside me.

Keith goes on like he hasn’t noticed. "Is there anyone else around that you’d describe as pretty?" he says. He barks a laugh, then seems to crack himself up and keeps laughing. Smiles widen at the table.

My hands are hidden beneath the table in my lap. I tug on the end of my shirt. No—uh, no, maybe not.

The smiles around the table are a little tighter now. Gray watches me from across the room, eyes focused, calculating, dissecting my entire performance even though it’s only been a few lines. I try to block out the memory of the interview I’d seen, against my better judgment—but it was everywhere, all over social media and popping up in Google alerts every three seconds. A reporter shoves a mic in Logan Gray’s face on the red carpet and asks him, "What do you think about Matthew Cole joining the cast of Write Anything? Logan didn’t hide his annoyance. He rolled his eyes. He’s a shitty actor, he said. I hate people who get by on looks and charm and absolutely zero talent."

I try to block out the memory of the interview, but Gray’s voice rises in my head with every vacant word I speak. Wait, hold on, I say, turning the page with sweaty fingers. Aren’t you Quinn Evans? The author?

The next line belongs to Logan. He doesn’t look away from me as he leans in his chair, rocking back and forth slightly with a squeak, squeak, squeak.

Gray, Dave says, annoyance a little more obvious now. That’s you.

Gray’s eyes don’t leave me. So are we all just going to pretend this isn’t happening?

My heart plummets. Everyone looks up before heads turn and gazes rest on me for a brief second. We all know what he means. Dave clenches his jaw. Just read your line, Gray.

It’s a waste of time, he says. I’m not going to do a table read with someone who can’t even figure out his character. That impacts how I end up playing my role. Don’t punish me because you decided to choose Hollywood’s flavor of the week.

Julie, who plays the main antagonist as Quinn’s girlfriend, whispers loudly enough for us all to hear. Don’t be a fucking asshole, Gray.

Am I an asshole for saying the truth? He shrugs. Fine. Okay.

Heat grows in my throat. I cry easily. That’s always been my biggest problem, my dad used to say. I cry whenever I see cute toddlers hugging puppies. I cry whenever someone is cruel to another person and I’m too angry to speak. I cry whenever I hear a beautiful song. I sure as hell cry whenever my feelings are hurt—when I’ve been humiliated in a room filled with people I look up to and admire. Easily crying has its uses, especially on the stage and in front of the camera, but the tears only add to the humiliation now.

Dave’s mouth hangs open. Okay, he says loudly. Let’s take five.

Chairs roll back, people begin to chat about their weekends, recent industry announcements, LA traffic, anything but what just happened. I rub my eye as I get up to find a bathroom, walking away from the table before anyone can stop me. I just need a second to look at myself in the mirror, splash some water on my face, and get myself together.

Someone follows me out of the swinging doors of the conference room. I expect it to be Dave, but when a hand touches my elbow, I turn around to see Julie.

Hey, she says, are you okay? Gray can be such a dick sometimes.

It takes me a second to process the fact that Julie Rodriguez is talking to me. She played the lead role in one of my favorite Disney Channel shows growing up. She’s stunning in person, even with her hair pulled up in a messy bun and bags under her eyes.

Even though I feel humiliated, I still struggle to not be starstruck. Yeah, I’m fine, I say. He’s—you know, he’s right. That was an awful read.

We’ve all been there. And this is your first lead role, right? When I nod, she pats my arm. You’ll be fine. Don’t let him get into your head. Everyone’s really excited that you’re a part of the cast, Matt.

I thank her—and I mean really, truly thank her—and she gives me a reassuring smile before she walks back into the room. Logan Gray may hate me, and he might not be happy to share this film with me, but I can’t let him scare me away. Not when a role like this has been my dream—everything I’ve worked toward for so many years. I take a deep breath, and I force myself to walk into the room again.

Inside Hollywood Blog

There have been reports that the stars of the upcoming film ‘Write Anything,’ Matthew Cole and Logan Gray, have been at odds before principal photography has even begun. This would be understandable, after the disastrous and awkward interview Gray gave on the red carpet of the premier of ‘Hawkseye Down,’ claiming that his then-recently cast costar has zero talent. If the two romantic leads to one of Hollywood’s biggest summer blockbusters hate each other as much as the rumors suggest, we’re willing to bet that ‘Write Anything’ is likely to fail before it’s even begun.

Logan

I sit in the second-floor lounge with a massive headache. Nothing’s helped. Not pills, not sleep, not sex. I’m just starting to wonder if getting punched in the face gave me permanent brain damage when Willow appears beside me. She sits down on the old-fashioned red velvet seat, crosses her legs, and stirs a straw in her favorite martini that I’d ordered so it would be here by the time she arrived.

Did you call me here to break up? she asks, picking up the martini and taking a sip.

Yeah, I say, leaning back in the seat. Three months. That’s what we agreed, right?

She sighs. It was fun while it lasted. She’d been the one to come up with the idea, a few months ago after we met in some club and she followed me back to mine. This kind of shit is usually set up by PR and involves a fuck ton of NDAs, but I guess she wanted to go around the bureaucratic rope. Easier to just deal with me.

Something else is clearly on her mind. She glances up at me.