The Single Moms of San Camanez: The Vino Vixens, #1
by Whitley Cox
Release Date: June 7th 2025
Genre: Small Town/Single Dad Romance
Tropes: Forced Proximity; Fish out of Water; Military; Little mermaid redition; whodunnit; suspense, brotherhood
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One bed, two enemies, and three bottles of wine. What could go wrong?
Welcome to San Camanez, a humble, peaceful little island in the Puget Sound and home to the Vino Vixens. Four cousins—and single moms—who run a vineyard, love the wine they sell, raise their kids together, and still hold out hope that not all men are the like ones they married. This is Raina’s story …
Jagger
Raina Aaronson is my nemesis. The Poison Ivy to my Batman, the Fem-Bot to my Austin Powers. Wherever she is, so is a guaranteed bad time. So when the two of us wind up stranded, unable to get home, with just one bed left at the Inn, the only reasonable thing to do to pass the time is get drunk.
Raina
Jagger McEvoy can sleep in the woodshed for all I care. That bearded nuisance is the contaminated cork in my merlot. The black rot on my grapes. However, when the power goes out at the B&B, he goes all out helping the guests, making sure they’re safe, warm and comfortable—taking his shirt off in the process.
Wait, so this man isn’t the irritating, self-serving asshat I thought he was? He actually cares? And not just for me, but for my son as well.
Because when danger comes knocking on my door, threatening the safety and peace I’ve so carefully curated for my family, Jagger might be the only person able to stop it.
Unless I screw things up first.
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“I really don’t know how to describe this book except to say it was brilliant. The humor is great but it also an emotional read at times. Well developed plot and fantastic characters.” – Karen ~ ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Goodreads Review
“I think Jagger is my favorite of the McEvoy brothers! I loved him in every book of the Brew Brothers of San Camanez series, and I couldn’t wait for his story. The rivals to lovers energy between him and Raina was well written. There were also some taboo and dark themes, which I would recommend this book if you’re looking to dip your toes into dark romance! This falls into the contemporary romance category, but it’s a good starter. I can’t wait to read more about the Vino Vixens!” – Morgan Robinson ~ ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Goodreads Review
“Jagger is so hot he sizzles! He sizzles even hotter with Raina. Defending her, keeping her and Marco safe, stepping in when the going gets tough...nothing hotter than your man standing up for you. Getting stranded together was the best thing to ever happen.” – Vicku McGikus ~ ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Goodreads Review
“Hot for the Jerk is a crossover book set on the island of San Camanez. Jagger is the last of the McEvoy Brew Brothers and Raina the 1st of the Vino Vixen cousins to butt heads and fight their way to love and a HEA. A brilliantly written romance that combines a multitude of tropes but is totally unique. I loved everything about it, from the dialogue to the sparks and tension, the heartwarming and thoughtful actions and the family interactions. The kiddos are the absolute best! There's also a touch of darkness with Raina's horrible and traumatic past rearing its ugly head which takes a truly heroic effort to overcome. You do not have to have read the previous books to love the story, but you most certainly will want to once you meet this amazing bunch of people. A page-turner and keeper to be sure and I can't wait to find out what's next!” – Silk1509 ~ ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Bookbub Review
“I could not put down Hot for the Jerk! I'm usually reading two or three books at the same time but I needed to know how Raina and Jagger's story ended. I'm not always a fan of "enemies to lovers" but their history really fit and seemed realistic. The story progressed at a great rate and I truly loved it and the characters. I'm ready to read the next book in the series!” – Rebecca Salinas ~ ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Amazon Review
The next morning was unkind in every sense of the word. Not only did it come too soon, but it greeted me with the mother of all hangovers. I hadn’t been in this rough of shape in a long time.
I also woke up on the bed with a glaring and extremely tired-looking Raina staring at me. “I thought you were going to sleep on the floor,” she said, way too fucking loud for my brain.
I winced. “I fell asleep by accident. I’m sorry.”
Groaning, she rolled over onto her back and pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “Are you dead?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
I grunted in acknowledgment.
“Breakfast is served between seven-thirty and nine-thirty. What time is it?”
“You have a phone too,” I said, reaching for my phone from the nightstand anyway. “Oh, fuck.” I meant to spring out of bed like a limber baby gazelle, but it was more of a roll—like a walrus coming out of anesthesia after getting his wisdom tusks removed—and landed on my face on the floor. “It’s nine-fifteen.”
“Seriously?” She had a modicum more pep in her step than I did as she slung her body off the bed and toward the door. “Are you coming?”
“Aren’t you going to get dressed first?”
Glancing down her body, she then gave me a face. “Why? I’m not naked. I don’t care who sees me in my pajamas.”
Nodding, I used the bed to help haul myself up and joined her. “Good point.”
With concrete in every one of my steps, I followed her out of the door and down the hallway with its wainscoted walls, and dark-blue and gold houndstooth wallpaper, then the stairs, where voices and the clink and clatter of utensils sounded more like church bells in my brain.
But once the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon floated up my nostrils, I was no longer considering burning the entire house to the ground.
“Good morning,” Lenora greeted us, coming out of the kitchen through the white swinging door with the diamond-shaped window in the center. She carried a tray heaped with flaky pastries. “I’m pleased to see you’re both still alive.”
“Barely,” I murmured, going to the coffee carafe on the console table along the far wall and pouring myself a cup. Just like the interior of the house—with its shabby-chic, beachy décor—the bowls, mugs, and plates, were all beach-grass-themed stoneware—white and with a spray of tawny seagrass on the sides. I glanced at Raina and grunted to ask if she wanted one too. She nodded, because her mouth was already full of pastry.
I also woke up on the bed with a glaring and extremely tired-looking Raina staring at me. “I thought you were going to sleep on the floor,” she said, way too fucking loud for my brain.
I winced. “I fell asleep by accident. I’m sorry.”
Groaning, she rolled over onto her back and pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “Are you dead?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
I grunted in acknowledgment.
“Breakfast is served between seven-thirty and nine-thirty. What time is it?”
“You have a phone too,” I said, reaching for my phone from the nightstand anyway. “Oh, fuck.” I meant to spring out of bed like a limber baby gazelle, but it was more of a roll—like a walrus coming out of anesthesia after getting his wisdom tusks removed—and landed on my face on the floor. “It’s nine-fifteen.”
“Seriously?” She had a modicum more pep in her step than I did as she slung her body off the bed and toward the door. “Are you coming?”
“Aren’t you going to get dressed first?”
Glancing down her body, she then gave me a face. “Why? I’m not naked. I don’t care who sees me in my pajamas.”
Nodding, I used the bed to help haul myself up and joined her. “Good point.”
With concrete in every one of my steps, I followed her out of the door and down the hallway with its wainscoted walls, and dark-blue and gold houndstooth wallpaper, then the stairs, where voices and the clink and clatter of utensils sounded more like church bells in my brain.
But once the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon floated up my nostrils, I was no longer considering burning the entire house to the ground.
“Good morning,” Lenora greeted us, coming out of the kitchen through the white swinging door with the diamond-shaped window in the center. She carried a tray heaped with flaky pastries. “I’m pleased to see you’re both still alive.”
“Barely,” I murmured, going to the coffee carafe on the console table along the far wall and pouring myself a cup. Just like the interior of the house—with its shabby-chic, beachy décor—the bowls, mugs, and plates, were all beach-grass-themed stoneware—white and with a spray of tawny seagrass on the sides. I glanced at Raina and grunted to ask if she wanted one too. She nodded, because her mouth was already full of pastry.
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A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn't end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it's not quite wine o'clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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