Anyone But You | cover reveal

Title: Anyone but You\

Genre: F/F Adult Contemporary romance, F/F romcom

Release date: March 19, 2019


Things are going great for Sutton Kay, or at least they were. Her yoga studio is doing well, she’s living with her best friend, and she just got two kittens named Mocha and Cappuccino. Sure, she doesn’t have a girlfriend, but her life is full and busy. 

Then her building is sold and the new landlord turns out to be the woman putting in a gym downstairs who doesn’t seem to understand the concepts “courtesy” and “don’t be rude to your tenants.” Sutton can’t get a read on Tuesday Grímsdóttir, but she can appreciate her muscles. Seriously, Tuesday is ripped. Not that that has anything to do with anything since she’s too surly to have a conversation with, and won’t stop pissing Sutton off.

Sutton’s life gets interesting after she dares Tuesday to make it through one yoga class, and then Tuesday gives Sutton the same dare. Soon enough they’re spending time working out together and when the sweat starts flowing, the sparks start flying. How is it possible to be so attracted to a person you can barely stand? 

But when someone from Tuesday’s past shows up and Sutton sees a whole new side of Tuesday, will she change her mind about her grumpy landlord? Can she?


Only one person was in the room. One person for all that noise. They had their back to me, a weight bar rested on their upper back, with huge black weight plates on either end. Slowly, they squatted down and then pressed back to standing.

I forgot about the music for a second while I watched their legs flex. The person was only wearing shorts and a sports bra and their back glistened with sweat in the low light. This place was definitely in need of some more lighting. The dim corners added more to the prison vibe.

The person squatted again, making a little grunting noise as they stood up again. I should probably stop staring, or at least make my presence known. I definitely needed to stop staring at the person’s ass.

“Excuse me,” I said, but they couldn’t hear me over the music, so I stepped closer. “Excuse me!” I yelled, and the person slowly pivoted, weight bar still on their back. Dark hair, tan skin, piercing blue eyes. That was all I saw, and I almost stumbled backwards. I’d never seen someone so intimidating in my life.

“You shouldn’t sneak up behind people when they’re lifting heavy things,” she said, popping the bar off her back and letting it slam into the floor and bounce a few times. She walked over to the sound system and turned the music down. Blessed relief. I could finally hear myself think.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to get your attention. The music was a little loud.” 

One dark eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?” The irritation radiated off her in waves. What if I was a potential customer? Not a very good first impression for this gym.

“Yes, I own the studio upstairs,” I said, pointing upward, “and your music is too loud. It’s messing with my classes.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Is it,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

“Yes. The base pounds through the floor and it’s distracting. It was hard enough with the construction, but I thought once that was over, things would go back to normal.” I’d never had issues with my downstairs neighbors before. They’d even given me free croissants every time I’d come in, and a few of their baristas had come to class. I wasn’t getting any free croissants now. Just dirty looks and layers of hostility.

“Look, I’m not asking a lot. Just turn it down. Or get some headphones. Are you planning to make it that loud when you open?” I hoped not.

She stepped over the bar and walked closer to me, but it was only to reach for a water bottle that sat on a bench beside where I stood. I took an involuntary step back.“I’m planning to do whatever I want,” she said, taking a swig of water. “This is my gym.”

About the Author:Chelsea M. Cameron is a New York Times/USA Today/Internationally Best-selling author from Maine who now lives and works in Boston. She’s a red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader, and world’s worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, getting brunch with her partner, tweeting, and playing fetch with her cat, Sassenach. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.






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