Star Bright, the first in Staci Hart's brand new Bright Young Things series, is coming July 14th. Mark your calendars and get ready to find out all about Cecelia Beaton. Check out a teaser below!

Ash hit me in the chest with the back of his hand, but when I shot him a look, he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring in front of us.
At her.
She floated toward us like a north magnet through a sea of norths that parted as she approached and closed behind her, a bubble of force keeping them just out of reach in deference or awe or both. Eyes, bright as glittering diamonds, were locked on mine, her lips touched with the ghost of a curve at the corners, the promise of a smile. Everything about her glittered—the finger waves in her golden hair, the crystals dotting the band of her fascinator, the reflective beads on her dress.
That dress. White chiffon and silver lace, twinkling beads trimming the deep V, the ghostly fabric hugging the curves of her body from rib to hip before cascading to the ground. Tiny strands of silver beads capped her shoulders like a draping spiderweb, heavy with sparkling dew.
But my eyes snagged hers again, lustrous blue eyes lined with smoky kohl and long lashes, her skin pale and perfect but for the rise of color in her cheeks and the blood-red of her narrow, lush lips.
A tug somewhere in the expanse of my chest urged me to meet her as she drifted toward me.
Not Ash.
Me.
Because if she was a north magnet, I was a south. And it seemed both of us knew it.

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You are cordially invited to the party of the century.

There’s no greater thrill than in the moment a courier hands you the heavy invitation with those words etched on the front. Because you just joined the most exclusive group in New York.

The Bright Young Things.

Lavish parties. Irreverent treasure hunts. Every event is a spectacle, stalked not only by the media, but by the police commissioner, who’s declared himself the morality police, heading up a charge leading to raids and arrests and the constant threat of danger.

But that’s all part of the fun.

That, and the secrets.

Like, who sponsors these parties? The trail leads back to one mysterious name, an homage to the original Bright Young Things of a century ago: Cecelia Beaton.

And no one knows it’s me.

Everyone has secrets, and mine is safe. Until I meet him.

He comes out of nowhere, armed with ample charm and a tilted smile. Dark eyes promise to devour me—all I have to do is give him permission. And before I realize it, he finds his way into my heart, into my life, with dangerous ease.

Because he has secrets of his own, secrets that could bring down everything I’ve built.

Even the best kept secrets have a way of getting out.

And if mine does, I’ll lose more than my heart.