Category Archives: Beautiful Rivers

Excerpt of Beautiful Fall

When resort heiress Elizabeth Rivers is forced to work with her nemesis, Brett freaking Carmichael, sparks fly and she learns he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Read an excerpt of chapter 10 of my steamy contemporary romance, Beautiful Fall.

Title: Beautiful Fall

The second standalone in the Beautiful Rivers Series

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Chapter Ten

Three days later, I’m in the kitchen of cottage five, leaning on the center island and making notes about a possible addition to our marketing campaign. I had a brainstorm during my quick meeting with Rod, which just ended, and wanted to capture my ideas before I lost them.

Cottage five is next in line to get stripped on the inside, and work is set to start sometime today, but for the moment I’m in here alone. It’s quiet and peaceful, and the sound of the nearby ocean is drifting in through the open front door. The only other sound is the scratching of my pen on the cream-colored paper in my Moleskine notebook, which is nearly full already.

I’m almost finished with my notes when I hear the sound of heavy boots coming through the front door—a worker finally arriving to begin demolition, no doubt—and hurry to finish my thought so I can get out of the way. Too late, I realize who else it might be and, sure enough, I raise my head to find Brett Carmichael coming around the corner and into the kitchen.

He stops when he sees me and I straighten, pen still in hand.

Crap. We’ll be working together on this project for months, and yet here it is only a few days since the last time I saw him and already I’m alone with him again. Even though he’s clear across the room, my senses heighten at the sight of him.

I try to maintain my cool. “Mr. Carmichael.”



“I think I owe you an apology,” he says, slowly starting to come around the island.

Matching his pace, I begin circling the island as well, in the opposite direction. Because he needs to stay over there. Because all he has on is slacks and a collared shirt, nothing fancy, but god, he looks delectable. His broad chest fills out his shirt nicely and the hard knots of his biceps look perfectly squeezable. Plus those eyes. I really love those eyes.

So, yeah, over there.

“You already apologized.”

He stops and I stop too. I realize I’ve left my notebook and bag on the countertop. They’re now closer to him. Over there.

“It wasn’t appropriate. I didn’t mean to… attack you like that.”

I furrow my brows. Attack me? God, it’s not like I didn’t want him to kiss me. You know, in that moment.

Okay, maybe a little in this moment too. But, no, no, no. I just have to keep him over there so the energy that’s already passing between us doesn’t become unbearable. If he gets too close, I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist him. And I do want to resist him. I’ve already decided that.

“You didn’t,” I say, as he takes a step, this time going in the other direction. I also take a step in the other direction, maintaining the distance between us.

He stops and I stop too.

He cocks his head and holds my eyes. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice sounding both curious and amused, as if he’s suddenly realized what I’m doing. And why.

“Hmm?” I say, because my muddled brain can’t seem to come up with a better response then, I’m keeping you and your dangerous body the fuck over there.

His gaze gets more intense. Without him moving the slightest bit closer to me, the space between us heats up and shrinks. Oh, shit. I’m in trouble now.

He takes another step toward me, then another, holding my eyes. I only manage half a step back, toward the counter behind me.

“Are you afraid of me?”


The honest answer, in case you’re having trouble following along, is yes.

“Then why,” he asks, coming yet closer, rounding the corner of the island, “are you once again backing away from me?” There’s nothing between us now and the air is starting to crackle.

“I’m not.” My rear hits the counter behind me and I grab it with both hands, the pen clicking against the surface, my eyes locked on his.



He stops his advance, cocking his head again. “Lizzy?”

Oh shit. I did not mean to say that. But it’s hard to think with my blood pounding the way it is. “People close to me call me Lizzy,” I offer, as if that’s some sort of explanation.

Well, that didn’t help matters at all.

His eyes sharpen with heat and oh, here he comes again. “You want me to get close to you?”

“No, I…” God, he’s right here. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I think you do,” he says quietly. He’s stopped moving, but he’s just in front of me now, mere inches separating us. My eyes dart from his eyes to his lips.

“I don’t…” my voice is barely audible.

His eyes hold mine and my whole body is pulsing. This electricity between us is so overpowering. It’s taking over everything. I had decided I didn’t want this and yet once again my gaze falls—dammit—from his eyes to his lips.

I realize mine are parted slightly. I lick them and press them closed determinedly. He watches me do it. “I don’t…” I try again. I don’t like feeling so out of control. I gather what little scraps of willpower I have left. “…like you.”

I said it to try to push him away, but the words out of my mouth feel terrible. In fact, they feel like a wicked little lie.

He doesn’t move one whit. In fact, his only reaction is to blink, twice.

I want to take it back. But I don’t. Because then he’ll kiss me, I know he will. And I had decided I don’t want him to kiss me. This is so not going according to plan.

He straightens slightly, looking me in the eye with such intensity I forget all about his lips. “Is that so?” he asks quietly.

I stand there frozen, hands still gripping the counter behind me, as he slowly lifts his hand toward my face. I don’t move at all. I don’t take my eyes off his. His fingertips touch my skin—like a crack of lightning in a stormy sky—and he runs them down my cheek, leaving fire in their wake. My entire body weakens, and my arms slowly go slack.

My eyes still held by his, his fingers move to my neck. My vein pulses hard against him and my breath catches in my chest. His fingers continue their downward path, his sharp eyes observing my every reaction. When he rests the tip of his fingers at the tender base of my neck, I exhale shakily.

“I think you like me fine.”

At last his eyes drop from mine and he follows the track his fingers are burning along my exposed collar bone. His fingers trace the curve of my shoulder, tucking underneath my long hair. My pulse is reverberating thickly through my entire body. I’m barely breathing.

I want him to kiss me. I want him to kiss me like the fucking devil I know he is.

“I think you don’t want to like me.” He lightly plays with my hair, still watching his hand, sending waves of shivers over me. “If you want to know the truth, I don’t want to like you either,” but his voice is full of heat, and when he looks back at my eyes I’m gripped in the thunderstorm. “At least… not like this.”

Fuck. I would lean in and kiss him myself, but I’m caught in the intensity of his gaze and can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t breathe.

His hand lifts to the base of my neck and his fingers curl into my hair. His other hand runs along my hip then curls around my lower back. Our chests touch lightly at first, then more firmly. My arms have circled around him too, but his mouth still hovers just over mine.


“Beautiful Fall is a wonderful story full of desire, angst, and so much passion! A definite one-click buy!” – Rachel at Behind Closed Doors

Finish reading Beautiful Fall, the second standalone in the Beautiful Rivers Series today:

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Excerpt of Beautiful Mine

When Whitney meets fellow Californian, Connor Rivers, in the most unlikely of places—on the Camino pilgrimage in Spain—they fall into a brief, impassioned love affair. But she’s on her way back to her career, and he’s a world traveler whose restless spirit refuses to be tamed by anyone. Maybe even her.

Scroll down to read chapter 10, a website exclusive.

Title: Beautiful Mine

The first standalone in the Beautiful Rivers Series

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Chapter Ten

It’s six in the morning. Whitney’s already scheduled a cab pick-up and is in the bathroom, getting ready to take her shower. I’ve gotten dressed—I’ll shower after she goes—and am sitting on the edge of the bed. Whitney’s impending departure is pulsing through my veins.

I hear the shower water turn on, and something inside me starts to sink and grow still. I listen to it for a few minutes, not moving. When I do move, it’s to pull out my phone and dial my sister. I just need to hear her voice. She answers after the second ring.

“Hey!” Lizzy says, always so happy to hear from me.

“Hey sis.” I try to make my voice sound normal.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I say, trying harder. “I saw a stork yesterday and it made me think of you. You’ll have to tell Rayce.” It’s an old joke. It’s not really funny at the moment.

She laughs. “I will.”

I’ve successfully diverted her, but it does me no good. “I met someone.”

I didn’t mean to say those words, even though they’re true. The full and weighty implications of them are all true.

There’s silence on the line. Maybe because I said it like it’s something I’m already regretting. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Nothing. Just that I met someone.”

“You’re seeing her?”

I grip the side of the bed. “Not exactly.”

There’s more silence. Only the sound of the shower water. My heart’s pounding painfully. “Okay Mr. Elusive,” Lizzy says. “What exactly is it then? You’re the one who brought it up, you know.”

“I know. Her name’s Whitney. I met her outside of Arca.”

“There in Spain?”

“That’s right.”

“Is she Spanish?”

“No. She lives in San Francisco.” I don’t know why I’m telling Lizzy any of this. I really don’t.

“So, you like her?”

I nod but I don’t say anything. I’m just listening to the shower. I wish Lizzy were here. Or I was there. These are the times when I feel too far away and too alone.

“God, Connor. Why’d you even say anything if you didn’t want to talk about it?”

“Sorry. I don’t know. I just… thought you’d like to know.”

“I don’t even know what I know,” she says lightly, accepting my ways for what they are, like she always has. “But I’m happy if you’re happy. Does she make you happy?”

Irrelevant. All irrelevant. “She leaves for San Francisco today. She lives there.”

“Yeah,” she says slowly, responding to my tone, which hasn’t changed one wit since I said I met someone. “You mentioned that.”

She’s right here, I want to say. She’s on my boat, in my shower, in my head, in my veins.

“What’s this about, Connor?” Lizzy says quietly. “Do you want to follow her to San Francisco? You could, you know.”

“I know, but…” I take a deep breath and lean my elbow on my knee, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.

“But what?”

“How long would that last?” I say, not moving. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

Lizzy sighs. “Well. That’s something to think about,” she says gently.

I let my arm drop and fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Lizzy sighs again. “I don’t know if you want advice or if you just need me to listen or what.” One of the great things about Lizzy is she’s careful not to give unsolicited advice. “I wouldn’t know what to tell you anyway because I don’t know enough.”

“I know,” I say. “I wasn’t looking for advice, I guess. Just telling you. Like telling you I saw a stork yesterday. It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh huh.” She doesn’t believe me. Nor should she. “You’re full of shit, you know.”

“That’s what I hear.” I sigh. We sit on the line in silence for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

The shower water shuts off and I sit up. “Yeah. Look, I’d better go. Give everyone my love.”

“I will. But you know you’re in my dog house now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I’m going to be wondering about this Whitney person until we talk again and I get to find out if she’s still in your life or not.”

The pang of that truth pinches my heart. I understand what she’s saying. People don’t stay in my life. Because people are kind of like plants and tend to want to pick a spot of ground to grow in, while I don’t stay in one place long enough to grow any roots that matter. I can’t seem to do it. Not even for the people I love.

Evie’s words come back to haunt me: “It’s not fair to be with someone when all you want to do is leave.” And she was right. It’s not fair. I imagine Whitney one day looking at me the way Evie did that day, brows pulled down, arms crossed, anger and resentment all over her face.

I don’t want Whitney to ever have to hate me like that.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you too, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me kiddo,” I say automatically, like she knew I would.

She laughs and we hang up.

By the time Whitney comes out of the bathroom, fresh-faced and clean, I’m resolved we’ll say goodbye as we should, with a smile on her face and a smile on mine.

No matter how much it hurts.


“As always JL White tells a fabulously romantic, erotic, heartwarming, hilarious story.” – Janae, Amazon reviewer

Finish reading Beautiful, first standalone in the Beautiful Rivers Series today:

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Beautiful Dark is LIVE!

Who is Mason Reeves?

Corrine Rivers and her cousins desperately need to find out. Evidence suggests he’s the illegitimate child of her beloved Uncle Grant. The truth is just as hard to bear.

What’s also hard is Mason himself. All over. From his broad, muscular chest and massive biceps to his “screw you” attitude. Because Mason Reeves wants nothing to do with his inheritance or the wealthy Rivers clan, and isn’t afraid to say so.

As Mason’s tragic connections to Corrine’s family emerge, the facts are reason enough for her to stay away. But she can’t seem to resist him, and what’s worse, he feels the same way about her. To everyone’s surprise, Corrine and Mason get in deep, in more ways than one. But it turns out the biggest obstacle to their happiness isn’t Mason’s past.

It’s hers.


Riv 3 Teaser #7

Beautiful Mine (Beautiful Rivers Book 1)

”J.L. White has done it again.” – Five Star Review

When fellow Californians Whitney Spencer and Connor Rivers meet in the most unlikely of places—on the Camino pilgrimage in Spain—they fall head first into a brief, impassioned love affair. But Whitney’s on her way back to her career in San Francisco, and Connor is a world traveler whose restless spirit has yet to be captured by anyone.

Tragedy strikes and Connor is called home to help his siblings run the family business, the Rivers Paradise Resort. Yet the adventurer inside him hasn’t gone away; in fact, his wanderlust is on the verge of destroying his family’s fragile stability.

After Whitney’s career brings her to Connor’s resort, the sparks between them flare. Will her reappearance be enough to tame him? Can their love be enough, or are they destined for another gut-wrenching goodbye?

Beautiful Mine FB Teaser 2


There are people everywhere. In the hall. In the courtyard. On the street. In the hotel lobby. We’re walking close, my hand in his. The memory of our kiss is lingering on my lips like a physical presence. I just want to be alone with him. I want him to kiss me again, longer this time. Deeper.

As we wait for the elevator in the hotel lobby, two other people are waiting as well. Connor and I look at one another. No longer a wondering look, this is a look of desire.

The doors open and we all file in. Connor hits the number 7 as we enter, then pulls us into the back corner. We let go of hands and slide arms around waists instead. One of the men hits the number 3 and the other says, “Quattro, por favor.”

It takes forever. Connor looks at me, his thumb subtly rubbing along my side, making my nerves dance. I’m taking in those blue eyes—god, they’re so intense—and running my hand slowly up his back… then slowly down to his waist.

Second floor.

He leans in close to my ear, to whisper something I thought. Instead he plants a soft, hot kiss just under my earlobe. I want to close my eyes and lean my head back, but the people. I hold my breath, scoot closer, tighten my hold on his body.

Third floor.

The car stops. The bell dings. Connor and I look at the doors expectantly. It is an eternity before they finally bloody open and the first man steps out.

We’re faced forward now, as the car finally starts to move again. We’re both keeping a sharp eye on the digital number above the door, watching as the three changes to a four, eager for the last occupant to leave the car so we can finally, finally be alone.

Fourth floor. Connor’s hand spreads on the side of my waist, pressing firmly, holding me to him. The bell dings and I’m hardly breathing. The doors slide open and there is a quiet moment of panic as we see there’s a woman and her child on the other side, waiting to get on.

The man leaves, the two start to get in before realizing this car is going up when she wants to go down, and they mercifully step back to wait for another car.

As the doors begin to close, seconds away from giving us our privacy, our hold on one another tightens. As soon as the gap in the doors disappears, he angles me back against the wall, his body in front of me, pressing against me. He cups my jaw with one hand, my lips part slightly, and he pauses.

Only for a moment.

Just long enough to hold my eyes and make me see him before his lips are on me and my arms are around him and his body is against me hard.

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