Harper Bliss

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PREVIEW: And Then She Kissed Me

January 20, 2022 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

And Then She Kissed Me by Harper Bliss

And Then She Kissed Me will be out on 27 January 2022.

You can pre-order the ebook here >>

Here’s a preview. Enjoy!

And Then She Kissed Me
© Harper Bliss

CHAPTER ONE
SADIE

“Look what the cat dragged in.” My brother grins at me from behind the bar. “If it isn’t Hollywood’s finest TV cop.”

“Happy birthday, Sam.” I head toward him with widespread arms. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ditto and ditto.” Sam gathers me in his arms. “Are you ready for an epic party?”

I want to shake my head. I’m tired after having finished the relentless, against-the-clock period of shooting that always happens before the yearly hiatus of our show. I’d much rather have a quiet drink with my twin brother to celebrate our fortieth birthday, but that’s not Sam’s style and I don’t want to be a downer from the get-go.

“Sure.” I step back to get a good look at him. Owning The Bay beach bar doesn’t seem to have affected his wholesome North-Cali surfer boy looks. His skin is golden brown, his hair streaked with sunlit blond highlights, and his body looks as trim as it was when we were in our senior year of high school.

The door to the back room swings open and a blonde girl who doesn’t look a day over twenty-one walks out. My mind races to what has always been the obvious conclusion—that she’s my brother’s latest age-inappropriate conquest—but Sam swiftly puts me straight.

“This is Cassidy, my most valued employee.”

Cassidy brings her hands to her mouth. “Wow. Sadie Ireland in the flesh. It’s such an honor.” She holds out her hand. “I adore King & Prince. I watch it all the time.”

I’m of half a mind to tell her that the very last scenes ever with both King and Prince were shot last week, but I’m contractually forbidden from doing so.

“Thank you.” Since Cassidy is my brother’s employee—and possibly more than that—I shake her hand warmly.

“Will you be in town a while?” Cassidy asks.

“I might very well be.” I catch my brother’s gaze. I’ll be staying with him to recover from what has been an emotionally draining ten months of divorcing my co-star while simultaneously shooting a show together.

“I’ll see you around then.” Cassidy isn’t the lingering type of fangirl, then. She disappears into the back room again.

I shoot my brother a look that can’t be misinterpreted.

“It’s not what you think,” he says. “She’s the best employee I’ve ever had and I’m not about to mess that up.”

“How old is she?”

“Old enough to work in a bar,” is all he says.

Noise comes from the back. A car door slams shut, and I hear animated voices.

“That must be the caterers,” Sam says. “You relax with a beer on the deck. Look out over the ocean and contemplate the first forty years of your life.” He runs a hand through his thick hair. The man doesn’t look a day over thirty.

He reaches into the fridge behind him, takes out a bottle, twists off the cap, and hands it to me.

“Do you honestly believe that anyone who works on-screen in Hollywood actually drinks beer?” We’ve had this conversation many times.

“You’re forty today and recently divorced. Have the beer. Take all the comfort you can find.”

“Sam!” someone shouts from the back.

“I know I’m only twenty minutes older than you, but do as I say, anyway.” With that, he turns around and disappears through the door to the back, leaving me alone in the bar.

I head out, beer in hand, and take a seat on a stool lining the deck, overlooking the waves. I drag my gaze away from the sea for a minute to study the bottle I’m holding. The beer is called Surfer Juice IPA, which probably means it sells well in these parts. I scan the label to see if any new local breweries have sprouted up since I last visited. Lennox Breweries. Not a small-batch local brew then.

I take a sip. I haven’t had a beer in months—not since Sam came to Los Angeles for a few weeks last March to support me through the worst of the fall-out after my divorce from Mike. Sometimes, when you’re being chased by paps, you need your twin brother’s ridiculously muscular arm around you to shield you from the never-ending scrutiny.

The beer tastes crisp and light and I feel myself relax. It’s hard not to with this view. It’s quiet on the boardwalk between the bar and the beach—the calm before the big birthday storm Sam has planned, no doubt.

It suddenly hits me that I didn’t offer to help Sam and Cassidy set up for the party. I’m about to go back in to offer my services when I hear footsteps approach.

“I came straight from work,” Suzy, my older sister, says, followed by a shriek worthy of a teenage girl at a boy band concert.

I get up to hug her, using the time it takes to throw my arms around her to remember what Suzy’s current job is. Even though we speak on the phone several times a week, it’s hard to keep up with my sister’s employment—a bit like Sam and his women. My sister’s quest for the ultimate professional fulfillment has had her job-hopping for decades.

“I did my first solo coaching call,” Suzy says as I sink into her embrace.

Oh, yes. She works as some sort of life coach on the internet. 

“I knocked it out of the park with my quick thinking skills. My boss was so complimentary after, I could hardly believe it.”

I let my sister rattle on for as long as she likes. It’s her thing. The first ten minutes of any conversation between us are spent exactly like this until she’s gotten everything that’s on her mind off her chest. After which she fixes her gaze on me, and asks me, the way I imagine she asks her clients, how I’m doing and what I’m struggling with these days. Come to think of it, maybe life coach is a great profession for Suzy.

“We are complete.” Sam has ventured outside.

“Oh, Sam,” Suzy says. “I invited Devon last-minute. I hope that’s okay.” 

“The more, the merrier,” Sam says. “You know that.” 

“Sam’s convinced tonight will be epic,” Suzy says.

“You only turn forty once,” Sam replies. “And I’m not the only one.”

I missed our joint thirtieth birthday party because of reshoots that couldn’t possibly be rescheduled and our thirty-fifth because, that season, a few episodes of King & Prince were shot on location in Mexico. But fifteen years on the same prime-time TV show have earned me, alongside the habitual executive producer credit, a bit more say over my schedule. I made it abundantly clear I wouldn’t miss another big birthday party because of the show’s shooting schedule.

“To an epic party with my two favorite people in the world.” I hold up my half-empty beer.

I let my gaze glide over Suzy and Sam. They fall into their easy brother-sister banter. I lean against the railing and, with the ocean behind me and my brother and sister within touching distance in front of me, I revel in the soothing sensation of coming home.

I need it now more than ever.

CHAPTER TWO
DEVON

Sam and Sadie’s party is in full swing when I arrive. I spot a lot of familiar faces, but I’m here for one face in particular. I can see Sadie on my TV screen whenever I want these days, but it’s been years since I’ve seen her in the flesh. When Suzy invited me earlier today, I didn’t have to think twice about accepting. I consider myself a down-to-earth person—you have to be in my profession—but Sadie Ireland has always been the exception to any rule I’ve ever set myself.

I make my way through the throng of people on the deck. I hear two guys I know talking about catching some waves in the morning. I give them a nod of recognition. I try to ignore the coil of nerves in my stomach, even though I know better than most how futile it is to try not to feel your feelings. But again—Sadie’s the exception to everything.

I spot Suzy first. She’s part of a circle of people that have gathered around Sam and Sadie, as if they’re holding court. Suzy’s usually the center of every circle, but maybe she’s happy to surrender the spotlight to her siblings on their birthday. I know all three Irelands and it has always struck me as odd that, out of the three of them, Sadie ended up the TV star.

Not that she doesn’t have the looks for it—she always had. I lock my gaze on her and it all comes back to me, engulfing me like a dream I’m not sure I ever want to wake up from.

We’re both twenty-four years older now, but the slant of Sadie’s nose and the shape of her eyes are as familiar to me now as they were then.

Sadie has spotted me. She does that thing with her eyes when she glances away at first before her gaze is pulled back, as though she has no other choice but to look at me again.

“Devon!” Suzy must have seen something on her sister’s face because she has turned around and is pulling me toward them. “So glad you came.”

“Happy birthday, Irelands.” I stand around awkwardly because I don’t know whether to kiss them or hug them or, more than anything else, how to behave around Sadie.

Sam opens his arms wide and draws me into a bear hug. I’m not a regular at his bar, but I stop by here often enough, usually for a post-surf morning coffee.

“Happy you could make it,” he mumbles, his words slurring a touch already.

“Thank you so much for having me. I’m sorry I didn’t bring a gift. It was all a bit last minute, but it’s definitely forthcoming.”

“Your presence is your gift.” Sam steps back and I have a full view of Sadie again. Does she even remember that day? Probably not. It meant different things to us. That has always been clear.

“Devon!” Sadie sounds surprised to see me. “Oh, my god!” She opens her arms to me and I walk into her embrace. “Wow,” Sadie whispers when her lips are close to my ear. “What a trip down memory lane.”

I’m partial to tight hugs full of intention, but I only manage a limp pat on Sadie’s shoulders.

“I know.” I send her a smile after I’ve stepped back. “It’s been a minute.” I regroup and turn it on in a way that fools even myself.

Sadie arches up her eyebrows and brings a fingertip to my left arm. “Wow,” she says again. “Those are so incredibly cool.”

“Devon’s the most tattooed life coach around,” Suzy says. “Sadie’s right, by the way. You’re such a cool chick, Dev.”

I chuckle heartily. “Cool is the very last thing I’m feeling right now.” I give Sadie a look so she knows I’m referring to her presence.

“Don’t tell me Sadie’s fame impresses the likes of you.” Suzy brings her hands to her hips, as though scolding me. “That’s not what I signed up for when I hired you as my coach.”

We all have our weaknesses, I think, but can’t possibly say out loud. “It’s not so much the fame that impresses me, but that the girl I used to sit next to in class is now on my television every time I turn it on.”

“Professional hazard,” Sadie says.

“Here.” Sam offers me a bottle of beer. I’m not much of a drinker, but tonight, in the presence of Sadie Ireland, I may very well indulge.

“Here’s to you two.” I hold up the bottle and both Sam and Sadie clink theirs against it. I try to catch Sadie’s gaze as we toast, but it skitters away. Maybe a flash of memory surprised her, too.

“You must have turned forty recently?” Sadie inquires.

“A few months ago.”

“Here’s to you as well, then.” She lifts her bottle again, and this time, she returns my gaze for a split second. Her eyes still have the same bottomless darkness to them. Her smile is still as lopsidedly gorgeous as ever. “You look really good, Devon.”

Heat flashes up my neck. Thank goodness the light is dimmed in the bar. Damn you, fair complexion. Unlike the surfer dudes on the deck, and despite all the time I spend in the water and underneath the California sun, my skin only knows two tones: alabaster white and lobster red.

“Thank you.” More people arrive and want a piece of Sam and especially Sadie. According to Suzy, even though LA is only a six-hour drive south, Sadie doesn’t make it back to Clearwater Bay very often. Also, according to Suzy, Sam is the luckiest of the three Ireland siblings because Sadie bought him a beach house and a bar in his beloved hometown, and he gets to enjoy the fruits of their sister’s labor the most.

“I hope we get to talk some more later,” Sadie says, before she’s swallowed up by a group of people I’m not familiar with.

I lean against the bar and cast my gaze about the place. I see plenty of people I know and should chat with, but my eyes are drawn back to Sadie time and time again. I’d best get a grip. I look away and think of my son, Finn, who should be fast asleep right now at his dad’s. It’s easy enough to picture him in a funny, haphazard sleeping position, which is exactly what I need to pull me out of my Sadie Ireland induced trance.

When I scan the bar again, it’s with different intentions. I fully acknowledge that I have some residual feelings left for Sadie, while I also know that twenty-four years later, they no longer hold any meaning. It’s more nostalgia than anything else. Perhaps mixed with a touch of loneliness. I won’t wallow in either, which is why I decide there and then, as my gaze scours the women in The Bay, to kill two birds with one stone—if I feel less lonely, nostalgia won’t stand much chance either.

As if on cue, the music is turned up. Suzy’s the first to start dancing, pulling her reluctant brother and sister along with her. Both Sam and Sadie retreat to the bar, while Suzy is quickly surrounded by other people more than willing to dance.

A woman I don’t know catches my eyes. She has a few tattoos of her own, which is always a way in. I try to focus on her, but it’s as though an invisible force field radiates from farther down the bar, where Sadie’s standing. I can’t help but look—and I can’t help but melt a little more either. Damn you, nostalgia.

CHAPTER THREE
SADIE

Devon Douglas looks mighty fine in that orange top. It brings out the fire in her hair. Even though I could tell that seeing me rattled her for a moment, she looks like she has it all together. Like she has it all figured out. She has that healthy glow about her that comes with successfully keeping existential dread at bay. I suppose it’s a minimum requirement when you claim you can coach other people at ‘life.’

When Suzy mentioned that she’d invited Devon to the party, I had no idea she was referring to the Devon Douglas. For a while in high school, we were inseparable, until we weren’t. Because that’s how things can go at that age.

I smile at her before taking another swig of beer. I don’t remember how many I’ve had. As soon as I finish one, Sam is there to put another in my hand. I should talk to him about that. But not tonight.

Devon smiles back, and I take it as my cue to walk toward her. By now, most people at the party are over the fact that Sadie Ireland is here. I’m just a TV actor. I’m no Ida Burton or Faye Fleming. People get over being starstruck pretty quickly when they meet me in the flesh—look at Cassidy. Devon’s attention didn’t fade though—but she knew me a long time before there was any talk of King & Prince.

“Hey.” I can’t help but giggle like the teenagers we once were. “Are you having fun?”

“It sure is a trip seeing you again, Sadie.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” Devon stares intensely into my eyes.

I know I should say something, but I don’t know what. It’s as if my mind has gone blank. The only other time that happened to me was when I had to act opposite Mike again after we separated. Sometimes, emotions catch up with you despite your rational mind’s best intentions.

“Are you okay?” Devon points to the beer bottle in my hand.

“Sam,” I say, as though that should make it all perfectly clear.

“Want me to finish that for you?” Devon holds out her hand. “It might make for less of a headache in the morning.”

“Sure.” I give Devon my beer and watch how she brings it to her lips and tips the bottle back. For some reason, probably severe inebriation, my gaze is glued to her neck as she swallows.

“How long are you in town for?” Devon asks.

“For the entire hiatus of the show. I’m not doing anything else. Just retreating to my home base and licking my post-divorce wounds.”

“I’d love to meet for coffee sometime. Catch up.”

“I’d love that very much, too.” I tilt my head. “You look… I don’t know. Like the opposite of how I feel. Happy. Like everything is as it should be in your world.”

“Looks can be deceiving. You should know that.”

“Oh, I do. But…”

“It’s okay. Whether you’re Sadie Ireland living it up in Hollywood or Devon Douglas enjoying a quiet life in Clearwater Bay, we all go through good and bad times. It doesn’t matter where you live or what you do for a living.”

“That’s deep for a birthday party.” I’ve drunk too much to come up with even the slightest witty repartee.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” Everything Devon says sounds so heartfelt. “And I’m sorry you’re going through a tough time.”

Of course, she knows all about my divorce. The entire world knows. By lying low, I hope the attention on my former marriage will die down soon.

“I’m here now, with my family.” Suzy has somehow convinced Sam to stay on the makeshift dance floor—The Bay isn’t exactly a clubbing hotspot. My brother has many talents but moving his body in synch with a musical beat is not one of them. He seems to be having a blast, however. So much so it’s infectious, and I feel like I’m missing out—kind of how I’ve felt about their lives since King & Prince took off and I had less and less time to come home.

“Do you want to dance?” Suddenly, I’m curious to see how Devon moves to the beat. If she can maintain that cool demeanor on the dance floor.

“How can I say no to Sadie Ireland?” She leads the way and, as these things can go at a boozy party, one moment I find myself lamenting my private life, while the next I’m going bananas to a Tina Turner song.

Suzy curls her arm around me and pulls me near. “I’m so glad you’re home, little sis,” she yells in my ear. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Suze.” My eyes go watery as I look at her. That must be the beer as well.

“I know what we need.” Sam has approached us.

I groan in anticipation.

“Shots!”

“Shots! Shots! Shots!” Suzy joins in.

I’m having too much fun with my siblings to put up much of a fight. And it’s not as if I have to be on set tomorrow. I’ll have two months to recover from what will be a heinous hangover.

Sam orders shots with a few well-practiced hand gestures and next thing I know, liquor is burning down my throat. So much for letting Devon finish my beer earlier. Speaking of, where is she? She doesn’t seem to partake in the reckless knocking back of shots. She’s moved away from where we are clumsily swaying to the music and is talking to a woman I don’t recognize. Devon’s smiling and the other woman is peering intently at the tattoo sleeves on Devon’s arms.

Next thing I know, I’m being lifted in the air, my legs swinging in front of me.

“Put me down, Sam,” I yell. “I’m forty years old, for crying out loud.”

“Only if you do another shot with me.”

“Oh, what the hell.” Thankfully, he releases me from his hold. My legs wobble when my feet touch back down on solid ground. “I might as well.”

“To you and me, sis.” Sam offers me another shot. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior while you’re staying with me.”

“Big words, bro. Big words.”

“I’ll try to remember to put the toilet seat down.” He grins at me.

“That’s it?”

“Some other things as well.”

“How about you try not to bring a new woman home every other night? I would really appreciate that.”

“That’s not a promise I can make.” He pulls his face into a forced scowl.

“Of course you can! We can agree on one night a week and I’ll make sure I’m elsewhere. I’ll stay at Suzy’s or Dad’s.”

Sam shakes his head, then his eyes grow wide. I follow the path of his gaze.

“Someone’s getting lucky tonight,” he says.

Devon and the woman are standing very close but it’s not as though they’re doing anything that might indicate they’re ‘getting lucky.’

“They’re just talking.”

“Yeah right. And I’m a virgin.” Sam elbows me in the biceps. “Maybe you’ve been out of flirting practice for too long, but I certainly know it when I see it. Anyway, good for them.”

I stare at Devon and the woman she’s talking to. Are they flirting? And does it matter whether they are? If so, why does it seem to bother me to the extent that I find it hard to look away because I want to see how it ends?

Is it because Devon Douglas isn’t just a girl I went to school with? She’s also the girl who kissed me, out of the blue, on a sunny Wednesday afternoon.

<<End of preview>>

And Then She Kissed Me will be available on Thursday 27 January 2022 from all retailers. (The audio, narrated by Abby Craden, will follow later this year.)

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FREE: I Still Remember

January 19, 2022 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

I Still Remember - Free for a limited time!

I’ve made my (super hot!) second-chance romance story I Still Remember free so you can get in the mood for all the nostalgic reminiscing in And Then She Kissed Me! 🥳

This free download also includes the first 3 chapters of And Then She Kissed Me.

Enjoy! 😍

➤ Get your free download here >>

P.S. You might not want to read this one in public…

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Cover & Blurb Reveal: And Then She Kissed Me

January 10, 2022 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

Here are the cover and blurb for And Then She Kissed Me:

And Then She Kissed Me by Harper Bliss

When a trip down memory lane sparks an unexpected journey to love…

TV cop Sadie Ireland needs a break from her Hollywood life. She heads home to the beach town where she grew up to celebrate her 40th birthday with her family.

Devon Douglas can’t believe it when she comes face-to-face with Sadie again. They were inseparable in high school until Devon did something she has regretted for more than twenty years—she ruined their friendship on a love-struck whim.

Sadie is as dazzling as Devon remembers—and she can still hold her own surfing the wild waves of Clearwater Bay.

Devon’s first priority is her five-year-old son, but getting to know Sadie all over again is taking up more and more of her headspace.

Sadie is inexplicably drawn to Devon. It could be nostalgia. It could be remnants of their old friendship flaring up. But what if it’s more than that?

Best-selling lesbian romance author Harper Bliss brings you a steamy, big-hearted romance about two women who used to be best friends, until a teenage crush destroyed it all.

Available in ebook and paperback on 27 January 2022. The audio, narrated by Abby Craden, will follow a few months later.

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ON SALE: Once in a Lifetime

December 21, 2021 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

Oince in a Lifetime Sale

Once in a Lifetime (possibly my hottest book ever 🔥) is on sale for a limited time!

Grab your discounted ($0.99 instead of $6.99) copy here:
➜ Direct from me
➜ Amazon US
➜ Amazon UK
➜ All Other Amazons
➜ Apple
➜ Kobo
➜ Google Play
➜ Barnes & Noble

Here’s the blurb:

True love deserves a second chance.

Leigh Sterling and Jodie Whitehouse share a passionate connection. Unfortunately, their differing visions of the future force them apart. Life goes on, but their attempts at other relationships fail to measure up to the love they once shared.

When they see each other again after more than a decade apart, they realize they may be soulmates. Can they ever find their way back to one another?

Find out in this emotional and passionate novel by best-selling lesbian romance author Harper Bliss.

I re-read this book recently and it was very intense and it also made me blush quite a few times. 😊

Please note that the price will go back up to $6.99 at the end of the month!

Enjoy!⁠ ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜⁠

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NEW RELEASE: The Light Between Us

December 16, 2021 by Harper Bliss 2 Comments

The Light Between Us by Harper BlissMerry BlissMas to us all! 🎄

I wrote a sequel to In the Distance There Is Light!

I was going to call it In the Distance There Is Drama, but that’s not a very good title. Although this story couldn’t be more Harper Bliss-y (aka chock-full of angst) if I tried.

There’s so much drama packed into 12k words, you will need some time to process.

Here’s what it’s all about:
Four years after In the Distance There Is Light ended, take a deep dive inside Dolores’ head on her 60th birthday…

You can only get this story (12k words) exclusively from me:
– Get The Light Between Us here >>

This is NOT a standalone story, so it will only make sense if you’ve read In the Distance There Is Light.

You can also get In the Distance There Is Light + The Light Between Us as one deluxe ebook directly from me here >>

We’re working on a print edition of the novel and the sequel short story. I’ll let you know when that’s available.

An audio version is not planned as it doesn’t make financial sense to produce such a short story into audio right now. I’ll keep you posted if this changes.

Enjoy (and remember to feel your feelings, go with the flow, and, despite all the drama, trust in the power of the happy ending!) 😉

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NEW RELEASE: That Woman Next Door – Audiobook

December 2, 2021 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

That Woman Next Door by Harper Bliss

That Woman Next Door, read by Abby Craden, is available from all audio retailers (Audible included)! 🤩

Get it here:
– Direct from me
– Amazon US
– Amazon UK
– Audible US
– Audible UK
– Apple
– Google Play
– Kobo
– Chirp
– Scribd

FYI, you can also find all my books (in all formats, audio included) in your library.

Here’s a reminder of what That Woman Next Door is about:

Sometimes what you’re running from is exactly what you need

Olivia Chevalier is perfectly happy living a quiet life of solitude with her two cats in the tempestuous countryside of Brittany.

Olivia’s peace is disrupted when heartbreaker extraordinaire Marie Dievart moves in to the holiday home next door after an event at work makes her flee her everyday life.

Olivia hates having a neighbour and Marie is put off by Olivia’s cranky ways.

But maybe these two women have more in common than they first believe.

Best-selling lesbian romance author Harper Bliss brings you a slow-burn opposites-attract story about the power of connection and opening yourself up to the possibility of love.

★★★★★ “A fabulous story of two very complex women that I adored.”

★★★★★ “Gloriously bittersweet and poignant.”

Don’t miss That Woman Next Door if you like any or all of these things:
– The slowest of slow burns 🔥
– Match-maker cats 😻
– Complex characters doing All The Processing 😆
– The most delicious case of opposites attract 😎

And, of course, the return of the infamous Marie Dievart… 🇫🇷

Don’t go expecting French Kissing-like drama, though. Olivia is not into that At All!

NOTE: Even though Marie Dievart is a French Kissing character, this book is standalone. Absolutely no prior knowledge is required.

And, as usual, Abby Craden is absolutely fantastic!

Happy listening! 🎧

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NEW RELEASE: The Power of Love: An Age-Gap Box Set

November 18, 2021 by Harper Bliss 1 Comment

The Power of Love: An Age-Gap Box Set

The Power of Love is a lesbian age-gap romance box set bundling three of my novels:
– Next in Line for Love
– A Swing at Love (co-written with my Mrs!)
– Seasons of Love

And you can get them for 50% OFF the regular, standalone price!

Grab your age-gap binge-read here:
➞  Direct from me (TIP: get an extra 15% OFF by using the code DIRECTBLISS at check out!)
➞ Amazon US
➞ Amazon UK
➞ Amazon CA
➞ Amazon AU
➞ Amazon DE
➞ Other Amazon Stores
➞ Apple Books
➞ Kobo
➞ Barnes & Noble
➞ Google Play

THIS BOX SET INCLUDES THREE NOVELS FOR 50% OFF!

Three best-selling novels from the queen of lesbian age-gap romance! (That’s moi!) 🤭

If you believe that age is just a number, this box set is the perfect binge-read for you.

This digital three-book bundle includes Next in Line For Love, A Swing at Love and Seasons of Love. All books have been Lesbian Romance best sellers and have garnered countless 5-star reviews.

Whether you like your age-gap romance extra sultry or prefer it clean and sweet, this box set has got you covered.

Here’s what you will find inside:

Next in Line For Love – Can the road to the top take you on a path to love?

After a decade abroad, Ali returns home to Los Angeles to take over her family’s brewing business. But longtime COO Jill is in no mood to mentor Ali, who she sees as privileged and inexperienced. As they’re forced to work together, could they both find love in the last place they expected?

A Swing at Love – On the fairway of life, love comes when you least expect it.
(Co-written with my Mrs!)

Meeting at the golf club, fiftysomething divorcée Diane hasn’t had much luck with suitors, while Tamsin is reeling from a breakup with a younger woman. When their attraction takes them by surprise, will they have the courage to take a swing at love?

Seasons of Love – A successful solicitor, her business partner’s daughter, and their unexpected chance at love

In this passionate romance, Alice’s vacation heats up when she meets Joy, her law partner’s attractive daughter. But can her summer fling with a younger woman turn into a love that lasts? A steamy May-December romance!

Get swept away by the page-turning power of age-gap love!

Word count: 176.000 words (3 novels)

– These are NOT new books.
– Even if you’ve already read one of the books in this bundle, it’s still cheaper than buying the other two separately (especially if you buy direct from me and use the discount code DIRECTBLISS at check out!) (FYI, this discount code is valid all the time for all my books in my web shop.)

Enjoy! ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

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Filed Under: New release, Sale Tagged With: age gap, Box Set, Great price, New release, The Power of Love

The Rain – Read by Abby Craden

October 27, 2021 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

Abby Craden finished recording That Woman Next Door so the audio will be available soon(-ish).

Here’s the most delicious snippet of Abby Craden reading Olivia’s poem, “The Rain”.

Enjoy!

https://www.harperbliss.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/TheRain.mp3

The Rain - Poem by Olivia Chevalier

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Filed Under: Audiobook, News Tagged With: Abby Craden, That Woman Next Door

NEW RELEASE: That Woman Next Door

September 23, 2021 by Harper Bliss Leave a Comment

That Woman Next Door by Harper BlissThat Woman Next Door is now available on all retailers:

➞ Direct from Author
➞ Amazon US
➞ Amazon UK
➞ Amazon CA
➞ Amazon AU
➞ Amazon DE
➞ Other Amazon Stores
➞ Apple Books
➞ Kobo
➞ Barnes & Noble
➞ Google Play

 

Available as paperback from
➞ Amazon US
➞ Amazon UK
➞ Barnes & Noble

Available as hardcover from
➞ Amazon US
➞ Amazon UK

The audio (read by Abby Craden) will follow later this year.

★★★★★ “Light romance is fun, but a soulful lesbian romance is a rare delight.”

Here’s the blurb:

Sometimes what you’re running from is exactly what you need

Olivia Chevalier is perfectly happy living a quiet life of solitude with her two cats in the tempestuous countryside of Brittany.

Olivia’s peace is disrupted when heartbreaker extraordinaire Marie Dievart moves in to the holiday home next door after an event at work makes her flee her everyday life.

Olivia hates having a neighbour and Marie is put off by Olivia’s cranky ways.

But maybe these two women have more in common than they first believe.

Best-selling lesbian romance author Harper Bliss brings you a slow-burn opposites-attract story about the power of connection and opening yourself up to the possibility of love.

Don’t miss That Woman Next Door if you like any or all of these things:
– The slowest of slow burns 🔥
– Match-maker cats 😻
– Complex characters doing All The Processing 😆
– The most delicious case of opposites attract 😎

And, of course, the return of the infamous Marie Dievart… 🇫🇷

Don’t go expecting French Kissing-like drama, though. Olivia is not into that At All!

NOTE: Even though Marie Dievart is a French Kissing character, this book is standalone. Absolutely no prior knowledge is required.

I am super happy I managed to finish this book AND I’m extremely pleased with it. It’s also very special to me, for many reasons.

It’s chock-full of angst and lesbian processing and women being so bloody difficult… but there are also cats and jokes and banter and the craziest case of chemistry between two characters you might have encountered in a while… 😎

Here’s how my editor put it in her notes:

“One of the things I really liked about it was its emotional slow-burn. Not a physical one, no no, but the emotion built so slowly. It’s like a piece of classical music that takes its sweet time and a couple of movements, but eventually builds to a stunning crescendo.”

I’m so happy with this book and I can only hope you feel the same way!

★★★★★ “A fabulous story of two very complex women that I adored.”

★★★★★ “Gloriously bittersweet and poignant.”

★★★★★ “Thoughtful without being heavy.”

★★★★★ “Each of Harper’s new releases becomes my favourite and this is no exception — it really is that good!”

That Woman Next Door is now available on all retailers:
➞ Direct from Author
➞ Amazon US
➞ Amazon UK
➞ Amazon CA
➞ Amazon AU
➞ Amazon DE
➞ Other Amazon Stores
➞ Apple Books
➞ Kobo
➞ Barnes & Noble
➞ Google Play

Enjoy! ❤️

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Filed Under: New release Tagged With: French Kissing, New release, That Woman Next Door

PREVIEW: That Woman Next Door

September 16, 2021 by Mrs Bliss 5 Comments

That Woman Next Door will be out on 23 September 2021.

You can pre-order the ebook here >>

Here’s a preview. Enjoy!

That Woman Next Door
© Harper Bliss

CHAPTER ONE
MARIE

I kill the engine and stare at the house. It looks so desolate in the middle of winter. Maybe depressing is a better way to describe it. After all, there’s a reason we call it a summer house. Why couldn’t my family have bought a place in Provence, I wonder for the umpteenth time since I started the drive down from Brussels this morning. Along grey road after grey road, with no prospect of any new growth, for months to come. But I didn’t come here for fun. I came to cold, wet, rural Brittany on the first day of the new year with the single purpose of punishing myself. Of looking inside myself to find out if I still have it in me to continue doing what I do after what happened.

I suck in a deep breath and get out of the car. As I lift my suitcase out of the boot, a gust of wind whips up my hair, which I had cut a few days ago to look my best for my self-inflicted exile. To what end? There’s no one here to see me. My mother warned me the internet might be too spotty for a successful Skype connection, after she asked me, again, whether I, a purebred city person, was absolutely certain I wanted to sequester myself in Brittany.

I could have escaped to an exotic beach. Or ventured on a coast-to-coast road trip through the United States. Or embarked on a Scottish castle tour. But I chose wintery Brittany because, for the first time in my life, I’m not choosing excitement. I have to say no to anything thrilling. I have to create the time and space I need to evaluate what has occurred. I need to find out how it could have happened and if it will again.

I know myself. Put me anywhere amongst a group of people and I will pick out the most attractive woman and have her in my bed in no time. Or maybe I’ve lost that skill as well.

It doesn’t matter here. There are no people around. Our house is the only one on this road, although, through the barren trees, I can spot another house around the corner, about a hundred metres away. Distant enough to not have to see or hear the people living there, if anyone lives there at all at this time of year.

I unlock the door and am greeted by a cold blast almost as harsh as the temperature outside. I quickly close the door behind me. At least it looks the way I like—renovated to today’s standards, at my insistence.

I think of my warm, gorgeous apartment overlooking the Ixelles Ponds in Brussels. The light that streams in through the large windows even in winter. I shiver. Up until a few years ago, this house’s only means of heating was a fireplace, which may sound romantic, but is anything but when you run out of logs in the middle of the night. Or when you wake up in the morning and your buttocks nearly freeze to the toilet seat.

But I couldn’t do the kind of penance I’m after in Brussels, surrounded by the luxury of my daily life and the convenience of a city. Something had to be stripped away. Something major had to give. The house in Brittany was the first place that came to mind and here I am, trembling inside my coat, on the dreariest winter day. For some reason, I felt like I needed to arrive on the first day of the new year. As though it matters. As though I have to start an actual prison sentence mandated by the courts instead of this self-inflicted punishment I have chosen.

I switch on the thermostat but keep my coat on. It will take a while before it’s warm enough for me to relax. I transfer the rest of my stuff from the car into the house and unload the groceries I brought. I’ll have oceans of time to dedicate to cooking because there are no food delivery services to the middle of nowhere.

After I’ve dragged my suitcase upstairs and unpacked most of my clothes, I stand in front of the bedroom window. When there are no leaves on the trees, the house around the corner is visible from here. Because I’m already starting to feel like the only person left on the planet, even though I’ve only just arrived, I desperately search for a sign of life inside the house. I don’t see any lights glowing behind the windows, but there’s smoke coming from the chimney. Even though I’ve been coming to Brittany on and off for decades, I have no idea who lives in that house.

I’ve always considered my family’s holiday home a house without neighbours. In summer, it kind of is. When the days are long and the nights warm, and you can sit outside in the lush garden until well after dark, neighbours are of no importance. And I’ve never come here on my own. It’s always been with either family or a short-term love interest—the longer-term kind has never interested me until…

I take a moment to remember the last woman I was with. It was the night before the day everything went wrong. I shake off the memory of Véronique—again—although I know I will have to deal with it at some point. After the investigation into what happened in the operating theatre cleared me, the hospital administrator advised me to see someone to help me process the incident. I chose to take a leave of absence instead. I don’t want anyone’s help. I want to solve this crisis of conscience—and confidence—that’s waging a filthy war inside me by myself. It didn’t feel fair to accept any kind of assistance because for the woman who died on my operating table, there is no more help. For her, it’s all over forever. So why should I deserve any kind of help in dealing with what I did?

The lights in the cottage beyond the trees flickers on. For an instant, I consider switching the bedroom lamp on and off to signal my presence. Instead, I think I might take a walk over there tomorrow.

 

CHAPTER TWO
OLIVIA

My feet hit the treadmill in such a satisfying way today. This is why I run, I think, while my fists pump the air in a rhythmic motion. To feel like I’m flying. To feel strong. To feel like I can do anything. I increase the speed so I can go a little faster, so I can empty my tank. Even though I’ve already run more than seven kilometres, my feet can still easily keep up.

My treadmill sits in front of a window with a view out over the fields at the back of my house. I only ever see animals. Mostly birds and cows. Or my cats, who like to wait for me to open the door for them instead of squeezing through the cat flap—they’re princesses like that.

What the—? Something much larger than Deneuve and Huppert’s furry bodies darkens the window. My already elevated heart rate shoots up a notch. What the hell is happening? I press the red emergency button on the treadmill to make it stop. Who on earth is this person with the audacity to trespass on my property and walk around my house? I’m not expecting any deliveries today. I prefer to group them as much as I can and have them delivered to the supermarket in town, where I can pick them up at my own convenience instead of having my day disturbed by someone showing up at my door.

A woman wrapped in one of those long puffy coats stares at me through the window. She waves as though I’m supposed to know her. I don’t recognise her from the village and I’m certain I’m not related to her—not that any member of my family would show up at my house in the middle of any given Wednesday afternoon.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead. I feel cornered. My first instinct is to leave the room and hide upstairs. She doesn’t look like she’s in distress, although I guess her car could have broken down, her mobile phone might have died, and my house might have been the first one she came across. Maybe she does need help. I take a deep, shuddering breath to pull myself together.

The woman tilts her head. She’s probably wondering why I haven’t opened the door yet. I suppose I no longer have a choice—as if I ever had one. I drape a towel over my shoulders because I’m dripping with sweat. That’s an excellent run ruined. I’m supposed to be in the delightful throes of runner’s high right about now, but thanks to this intruder, I’ve been robbed of the highlight of my day.

I open the door and greet her with an unwelcoming glare. I’m not the type to give strangers a hearty welcome. A fact that’s been held against me many times, yet I haven’t changed.

“Bonjour,” she says. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your run.” She hardly comes across as very apologetic. She looks Parisian with her expensive haircut and cashmere pashmina, but her accent is different. “I arrived at the house around the corner yesterday and I noticed signs of life here.”

“Yes?” This is not making any sense to me at all. The only other house in a five-kilometre radius is a holiday home owned by some rich Belgians who visit a few times over the summer. I’ve never had any dealings with them and none of them have previously bothered me before.

“I just wanted to introduce myself.” The woman extends her hand. “Marie Dievart. Enchantée.”

“Hello.” I give her hand the quickest shake I can. My palms are still sweaty. My body is cooling off too quickly standing in the door like this. None of this is ideal. Least of all this woman who wants something from me that I’m unable to figure out. “Olivia.” As I wipe my sweaty hand on my leggings, a visible shiver runs up my spine. I pull the towel around my shoulders ostentatiously.

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t cover up,” Marie Dievart says matter-of-factly.

Duh! All I want is to close the door in her face. Wait? Is she expecting me to invite her inside my house?

“Don’t worry. I’m a doctor,” she says, as if that makes any difference.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I need to shower.”

“Oh, okay.” She studies me with an unnerving intensity. “Would you like to come round to my house later for coffee or a glass of wine?”

“What?” Why would she even think that’s what I want? “Who are you again and what are you doing here?”

“I’m so sorry, Olivia.” She has a very personable manner. She looks like she wants to grab my hand again but has decided against it last-minute—thank goodness. “I’ll be staying at my family’s holiday home for a few months, so I figured that would make us neighbours. I thought it only polite to introduce myself formally.”

“A few months? In the middle of winter?” I shiver again. My sweat-drenched top is ice cold against my skin.

Marie nods. “I need the time away from… my life,” she says.

“Okay, well, have a good stay.” I attempt to close the door hoping she’ll get the hint.

“You don’t want to have that glass of wine? I have an amazing Nuits-Saint-Georges waiting to be uncorked.”

A wine snob on top of an abrasive trespasser. I shake my head. “No, but thanks for asking.”

I’m about to close the door on this woman entirely, but she regards me so intently, it’s as though she wants to undo my wish to shut her out just by looking at me. Her eyes are a peculiar kind of green. Her cheekbones are alpine. Oh, I get it. She’s one of those women who is so attractive they’re used to always getting exactly what they want. She probably can’t fathom that I’m not interested in sharing a posh bottle of wine with her.

“I’d hate to have to drink it alone.” Her voice is sweet as honey.

“Shouldn’t have come here on your own then.” I feel something furry rub against my legs. Huppert slips outside and then just sits there, attracting attention—her favourite activity apart from sleeping.

“What a cutie.” Marie crouches down to make Huppert’s acquaintance.

If only Deneuve had decided to come to my rescue. She wouldn’t have any of this. She probably would have swatted Marie Dievart’s perfectly manicured hand away if she’d tried to pet her. But not Huppert, who can’t get enough of the attention. She’s purring, for heaven’s sake. “What’s your name then?” the woman asks my cat, as though she can reply to that question with anything other than a meow.

I need to cut this short. If I stay exposed much longer, I’ll be out with a cold for days, or even worse, bronchitis. Heaven forbid I need to see a doctor. I wouldn’t want to have to call on my new neighbour, while she was the one who made me sick in the first place. That would be too ironic.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” I say, trying to add a polite smile. I can’t help but, very briefly, wonder what I look like to this stranger, with my sweat-drenched clothes and my hair matted against my head. She must be very lonely to be inviting the likes of me to her place.

“Okay. Sure.” She looks like she’s about to admit defeat. She turns to walk away, but before I can close the door properly, she turns to me, and asks, “Is this how everyone here is? Is it a Breton thing, this unwelcoming attitude? Just so I know what to expect for the rest of my stay.”

“You’re asking the wrong person.” As I say it, I’m aware of how utterly rude I’m sounding—and being.

“Clearly.” She does walk away now.

I guess that, once again, I failed to make a new friend. I couldn’t care less.

<<End of preview>>

That Woman Next Door will be available on Thursday 23 September 2021 from all retailers. (The audio, narrated by Abby Craden, will follow later this year.)

 

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