Whiskey with Wolves Erica Spray Publication date: May 7th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Sadie Crowe is a runaway hoping to make a better future for herself, but she soon discovers what it means to truly be on her own. While trying to survive bartending in the middle of nowhere, Sadie is swept away by promises of money and an easy life by an enigmatic stranger. The grown-up world makes one dark turn after another, and Sadie must find her way through torment into the light of her future.
Born and raised in Southwest Louisiana taught me how to spin stories naturally. The culture, the flair, and the people really made it a magical place as a child. In a lot of my writings I still use Louisiana as the location because in a place as wild and tight-knit as Southern Louisiana, the possibilities are endless.
I knew I wanted to be a writer since I was in middle school. When i was in my thirties I knew that writing was my true calling in life. Just for the record, if something is your true calling, it will never stop calling you. Writing never stopped calling me and i’m glad that I finally listened and decided to take that leap.
You’ll learn pretty quickly that my novels are mysterious and thrilling. I hope to always bring that element of surprise in each book ending. Think you have me figured out? Think again.
Keepers of Time M. N. Kinch (The Keepers of Time Trilogy, #1) Publication date: May 7th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal
A forgotten life.
A secret passed through generations.
A dangerous immortal with nothing to lose.
Joan Sanders is on track for a bright future at NASA, but a strange accident and even stranger dreams draw her to the Cardozas, three mysterious siblings with a charming coffee shop, a dark past, and an uncanny knack for knowing things they shouldn’t.
As Joan grows closer to the Cardozas (especially the grumpy, yet charming, older brother), she’s thrown into a world of secrets and magic that challenge everything she believes. And she realizes she may have more in common with them than she thought.
While Joan and the Cardozas race to unravel a centuries-old secret that could destroy time itself, an ancient, heartbroken drifter lurks on the edges of their lives, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And he may know more about Joan’s past than she does.
In this funny and mesmerizing first installment of the Keepers of Time trilogy, M. N. Kinch weaves a magical story of romance and found family, with unforgettable characters you’ll love from the very first page.
Typing sentence by labored sentence, I nibble at my scone as I flip through my notes. I startle slightly when a pair of hands places a mug of steaming tea on my table, a woman’s hands with the same olive skin as the two people behind the counter. I assume it was the girl who was making my tea.
“Oh,” I gasp. “Thank you…” I look up and forget what I was about to say. It’s a different girl, mid-twenties maybe, perhaps a year or two younger than me, dripping wet, with silvery hair that falls just past her shoulders. She wears a soaked blue apron over a sleeveless flowered dress that’s thin and faded. How is she not freezing? Her lips part slightly, giving her a dazed look. My breath catches in my throat. She has the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, almost the pale silver color of her hair. They stand out like shining stars against her olive skin. At first I wonder if she’s blind, but her eyes focus on me for a split second and she smiles softly before her pupils slide away from mine, looking right past me. Through me. Without a word, the girl turns and drifts away, arms limp at her sides, dripping a trail of water behind her.
This must be Luna, the girl the guy was so grumpy about. I shrug it off and get back to work, taking my time with the tea and scone. The scone is amazing. I look up at the guy in the kitchen, who’s wiping down the counters, wondering if he bakes all the cafe’s pastries and if they’re all as good as this. I could eat here every day.
Gabby, the girl from the register, carries a stack of trays past him and says something that makes him roll his eyes, but he smiles. The corners of his dark eyes crinkle. He hasn’t had a shave in a while and his nose is a little pointy, but the effect isn’t at all unpleasant.
Stop getting distracted, Joan. Work. NASA. Move it.
I drop my eyes back to my screen and drag out another sentence. My silver charm bracelet clinks on the keyboard, the tiny sun, moon, star, and rocket charms tinkling as I type. Eventually, I’m the only one left in the cafe. I’m not sure what time they close, but I get the feeling I should pack up. I finish the last sip of now-cold tea, leaving the dregs in the bottom, before closing my laptop and slipping it into my bag.
When I straighten, my heart jumps into my throat. The silver-haired girl stands by my table, holding my plate and empty mug.
“Holy sh—” I exclaim, then stop myself. I hadn’t even heard her coming. This girl has a gift for sneaking up on people. “Um, thank you,” I mumble, shrugging into my coat and swinging my computer bag over my shoulder. She doesn’t answer, but stares down into my mug, frowning. Suddenly, I’m very uncomfortable.
“Thanks,” I say again. I stand and move around her to get to the door. I look back just before I step outside. This time, she looks straight at me, eyes wide, gripping the mug so hard her knuckles are white. My stomach churns. I yank on my hood and step into the rain.
Shivering in my coat, I stride down the street to the bus stop, wishing I’d brought gloves. It’s almost May. Shouldn’t it be warming up soon? I reach into my pocket for my bus pass when I hear the screech of car tires behind me.
I don’t have time to turn or scream.
Then, someone slams into me from behind, knocking the wind out of me. We fall to the pavement. Sharp pain shears up my arm, palms, knee, and the side of my face as the sidewalk shaves off my skin. My left wrist snaps and I cry out. Behind me, I hear a crash, the crunch of metal on stone. Rubble rains down on us.
Hott Take Serena Bell (Hott Springs Eternal, #2) Publication date: April 16th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
The hard part isn’t acting like we’re falling for each other. It’s pretending we’re not.
Shane: My grandfather’s will has me between a rock and a Hott place. If I don’t score a celebrity wedding, my sister will lose her wedding planning business—and our family’s land. As a playboy movie star, I know Hollywood’s ins and outs. But finding two celebrities in love is tougher than it looks.
Enter Ivy Scofield—the beautiful star of one of TV’s most beloved failures. She’s hiding from her past in Rush Creek, running a community theater for troubled kids. She needs my family’s wedding barn to save her program. So we make a deal: I give her the barn—she gives me her hand in fake marriage. Lights, camera, action—and cut—right?
Not so fast. Planning our fake wedding is way more personal than I was expecting. I’m learning Ivy’s quirks, preferences, and pet peeves—and that’s before I walk in on her enjoying my most infamous on-camera scene. Plus she’s slowly peeling back my layers—the ones I’ve built up to protect myself. If someone doesn’t do something soon, we might discover that the only thing fake about this wedding is the way we keep pushing each other away.
A spicy, movie star, marriage of convenience, fake relationship standalone romantic comedy set in the beloved small town of Rush Creek.
After Nia told me that Shane Hott is an actor, I watched the first Crown of Spires movies, Lord of Every Sky. It was full of scenes where he was shirtless, badass, and bossy. He’s basically the villain of the first movie—although I get the sense that he’s going to be redeemed later from the way the camera lingers on his…assets.
Even as I watched, I questioned my life choices. I wasn’t at all sure watching the movie was a good idea because in a town as small as Rush Creek, Shane and I were bound to cross paths.
After I watched him in Lord of Every Sky, I wanted to build a small monument to his torso and worship it…with my tongue.
And now, encountering him in the hallway outside of Hanna’s office, my knees feel less solid than I would ideally like.
Never trust a guy so good looking he makes you stupid.
So I do what any self-respecting woman would do in that situation.
I pretend I have no idea who he is.
I can tell he’s waiting for me to recognize him, giving me a beat to say, Holy crap, Shane Hott!
After he got on Bridge and turned into a household name, Anthony used to do the same thing.
Seeing echoes of Anthony in this guy makes me even less inclined to give him what he wants. Another Hollywood fuckboy hopped up on fan worship. It’s the last thing my life needs.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ivy Scofield,” I say, cool and low key, like I’m introducing myself to the manager at the bank.
Surprise flickers behind his eyes, but he hides it, extending his hand. I take it. It’s big, warm, and dry and, unfortunately for my equilibrium, attached to a toned, muscular forearm below a rolled shirt sleeve. The shirt itself is a soft-looking blue gray that clings in all the right places to his movie star–worthy shoulders, pecs, and abs. He has long-lashed dark brown eyes paired with a blade of a nose, square jaw, and lush mouth. Against my will, I admit that he’s gorgeous.
I thought I had permanently rid myself of men who were too good looking to be believed, but apparently not.
“I think we can help each other out,” he says. Actually, he whispers it. “You, um, mind walking with me?” He gestures toward the exit.
“Should I be worried that you’re a serial killer?”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “I’m not a serial killer. I’m an actor.”
“Even worse.”
He laughs, which is terrible because it makes him even better looking, all eye crinkles and white teeth and genuine amusement. Then he stops—because I wasn’t joking and he seems to intuit that.
“Even so,” he says, more seriously. “Please. Just…let me walk you out and tell you what I’m thinking.”
I give him a shrug-nod, and we walk out of Hott Springs together to the parking lot. Now I know who owns the Aston Martin Vanquish I parked next to. I know nothing about cars…but Anthony coveted that car: fast, expensive, and—his words—a dream to drive.
As we draw even with his car, Shane says, “I know you need our barn.”
I flick him a quick, confused glance as hope buys real estate in my chest. It sounds like he’s implying that it still might be possible. I will do anything to save our theater—not just for me, but for the kids. I know Nia feels the same way.
“I can get the barn for you.”
“Hanna said—”
“Hanna wasn’t looking at the whole picture,” he tells me. “I am.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You need the barn, and I need you to marry me.”
His too-pretty-for-real-life face is deadly serious now. My mouth falls open.
Author Bio:
USA Today bestselling author Serena Bell writes contemporary romance with heat, heart, and humor. A former journalist, Serena has always believed that everyone has an amazing story to tell if you listen carefully, and you can often find her scribbling in her tiny garret office, mainlining chocolate and bringing to life the tales in her head.
Serena’s books have earned many honors, including an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, Apple Books Best Book of the Month, and Amazon Best Book of the Year for Romance.
When not writing, Serena loves to spend time with her college-sweetheart husband and two hilarious kiddos—all of whom are incredibly tolerant not just of Serena’s imaginary friends but also of how often she changes her hobbies and how passionately she embraces the new ones. These days, it’s stand-up paddle boarding, board-gaming, meditation, and long walks with good friends.
Last Seen in Havana Teresa Dovalpage (A Havana Mystery, #4) Publication date: February 6th 2024 Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
A Cuban American woman searches for her long-lost mother and fights to restore a beautiful but crumbling Art Deco home in the heart of Havana in this moving, immersive new mystery, perfect for fans of Of Women and Salt.
Newly widowed baker Mercedes Spivey flies from Miami to her native Cuba in 2019 to care for her ailing paternal grandmother. Mercedes’s life has been shaped by loss, beginning with the mysterious unsolved disappearance of her mother when Mercedes was a little girl. Returning to Cuba revives Mercedes’s hopes of finding her mother as she attempts to piece together the few scraps of information she has. Could her mother still be alive?
Thirty-three years earlier, in 1986, an American college student with endless political optimism falls deliriously in love with a handsome Cuban soldier while on a spontaneous visit to the island. She decides to stay permanently, but soon discovers that nothing is as it seems in Havana.
The two women’s stories proceed in parallel as Mercedes gets closer to the truth about her mother, uncovering shocking family secrets in the process . . .
Sarah stood under a blue pendant lamp in the middle of a huge living room. The faded grandeur of the place still impressed her as it had the first day. She approached an upright piano and played the first chords of “London Bridge.”
Though the piano needed tuning, it had a rich, warm sound. There was a blue vase on top, next to the portrait of a dark-haired woman with a pearl necklace. The frame, heavy and ornate, looked like tarnished silver. The wall behind the piano was covered in paintings. The landscapes of marinas and countryside scenes didn’t impress the blonde, but she examined the portraits trying to discover a resemblance between their faces and Joaquín’s. If there was any, it eluded her.
Through the picture window, she saw people waiting in line across the street—the same people who had stared at her when she passed them. Her new neighbors. In due time she would join them at the grocery store queue, and they would get to know her.
She smiled and two dimples appeared on her cheeks. How fast things had moved! Less than a month ago she had been a guest at Hotel Colina in El Vedado, thinking of the handsome lieutenant who had swept her off her feet after the Triumph of the Revolution parade on January first, but not believing that their relationship (if you could call it a relationship) had any future. After all, she was an American—a “Yankee,” as they said here—who had come to Havana for eight days. But the days had turned into weeks. And the weeks would turn, hopefully, into months, and the months into years . . .
The sound of footsteps downstairs made her jump. She ran down the marble staircase, being more careful this time.
“Joaquín!”
A tall man with angular features, almond eyes and a big smile had just come into the living room. He was wearing the green olive uniform of the Revolutionary Armed Forces, which, in Sarah’s opinion, fit him amazingly well. The fact that she had fallen for a military guy still surprised her. Her father, with whom she had argued for years about everything under the sun, from politics to fashion, had been in the Navy, and she thought that was why he was so pig-headed. But she loved him and was closer to him than to her mother.
“¡Mi amor!”
Joaquín handed her a bouquet of white lilies, mariposas, which by now Sarah knew were the Cuban national flower. They hugged each other and kissed so passionately that a few mariposas were crushed in the process.
“They smell amazing!” Sarah said, pressing the bouquet against her face. “Thanks!”
“And here’s this too.” He offered her a small package wrapped in fancy tissue paper.
She tore it open and discovered a perfume bottle with the cap shaped like a dome. When she opened it, the scent of bergamot blended with the mariposa fragrance. She tried to decipher the name, written in Cyrillic characters.
“It’s called Red Moscow,” Joaquín said.
“It’s lovely! But you didn’t need to—”
“Don’t you know what day is today?”
She did. She had thought of it early in the morning, but he hadn’t mention it. She assumed Cubans didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because that would imply a religious reference to Saint Valentine. Joaquín had told her that religion was considered an “ideological deviation.” It made sense to her. The opiate of the masses and all that.
“El Día de los Enamorados,” he said.
A day for lovers. Sarah liked that. She was enamorada, no question about it. And so was he. No, wait, he was enamorado—she still, sometimes, got her endings mixed up. They laughed, embraced again and hurried to the second floor. The mariposa bouquet and the Red Moscow bottle were left on top of the piano, between the blue vase and the silver-framed portrait.
A truck drove at high speed in front of the house. The piano shook slightly, and the ghost of a melody came from under the closed lid. The vase and the portrait stayed put, but the perfume bottle fell to the floor and shattered. A potent aroma filled the room and snuck upstairs, passed by the master bedroom and reached the library, where the lady in the painting wore an expression of disgust.
Author Bio:
Teresa Dovalpage was born in Havana and now lives in Hobbs, where she is a college professor at New Mexico Junior College. She has a PhD in Hispanic Literature from the University of New Mexico with a specialization in Latin American literature.
She has published twelve novels and three collections of short stories. Her Havana Mystery series published by Soho Crime started with the culinary mystery Death Comes in through the Kitchen (2018), set in Havana and featuring Padrino, a santero-detective. It is loaded with authentic Cuban recipes like arroz con pollo (rice with chicken) and caldosa (a yummy stew). The second novel, Queen of Bones (2019) was chosen by NBC News as one of the top 10 books by and about Latinos in 2019. The third is Death of a Telenovela Star (2020). Set on a Caribbean cruise, it showcases the dark—sometimes deadly—side of celebrity, as well as the shenanigans that often happen abroad a cruise ship. Death under the Perseids (2021) also happens on a cruise ship, at first, and later in Havana, taking readers from the streets of La Habana Vieja to the botanical garden La Quinta de los Molinos. Upcoming is Last Seen in Havana, a sequel to Death under the Perseids.
She also wrote A Girl like Che Guevara (Soho Press, 2004) and Habanera, a Portrait of a Cuban Family (Floricanto Press, 2010).
In her native Spanish she has authored the novels Muerte de un murciano en La Habana (Death of a Murcian in Havana, Anagrama, 2006, a runner-up for the Herralde Award in Spain), El difunto Fidel (The Late Fidel, Renacimiento, 2011, which won the Rincon de la Victoria Award in Spain in 2009), Posesas de La Habana (Haunted ladies of Havana, PurePlay Press, 2004), La Regenta en La Habana (Edebe Group, Spain, 2012), Orfeo en el Caribe (Atmósfera Literaria, Spain, 2013), and El retorno de la expatriada (The Expat’s Return, Egales, Spain, 2014).
Her short story collections are The Astral Plane, Stories of Cuba, the Southwest and Beyond (University of New Orleans Press, 2012), Llevarás luto por Franco (Atmósfera Literaria, 2012) and Por culpa de Candela (Floricanto Press, May 2009).
Dirty Books Carissa Knight (The One Night Stand Club, #2) Publication date: April 12th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
SOMETIMES, LIFE CAN BE STRANGER (AND HOTTER) THAN FICTION.
Carlie Taylor, a shy and (often clumsy) erotic romance author, decides to walk on the wild side at Club Nocté’s latest event – a masquerade party. What’s the harm in a little anonymous fun? Well, when that fun leaves you with flashbacks of a stranger’s kiss and the world’s most baffling case of déjà vu, things get interesting.
Enter Adam, a personal trainer with abs that deserve their own Instagram account (oh wait, they have one). When he starts training Carlie, the sparks fly—but not just from the workout burn. There’s something strangely familiar about those biceps, but where could she have seen them before…?
Cue the drama: Adam’s Insta-famous life is like a soap opera, complete with a villainous ex who could give Cruella a run for her money. As Carlie and Adam’s flirty banter turns into something more, the world watches, likes, and comments. But can their fledgling romance survive the glare of the spotlight and the ghost of masquerades past?
The plot thickens like a good protein shake when Carlie has her ‘aha!’ moment. That mysterious, dreamy guy from the club? Yup, it’s Mr. Six-Pack himself. Now, the question isn’t just about enduring a tough gym session, but whether they can flex their hearts into accepting that their one-night stand might just be the real deal.
Having your books published feels like being on a rollercoaster—only this one’s been designed by a mad scientist with a peculiar sense of humor and a love for dramatic twists. Imagine climbing to the top, heart pounding, palms sweaty, only to realize the next drop is actually a loop-the-loop into a pool of chocolate pudding. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly surreal all at once.’
Seeing “Dirty Plans” and “Dirty Books” out in the world is like watching my wildest dreams take flight on a broomstick—because let’s be real, cars are too mundane for this journey. It’s like hosting a party where the guests are characters I’ve conjured from thin air, inviting readers to dance in the ballrooms of my imagination.
So, how does it feel having my books published? It’s like being the ringmaster of the most enchanting, chaotic, and absolutely unforgettable circus. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
2. This is the second book in the series – do you need to read the first book before one can read this book? Or can your books be read as standalones?
Each book in “The One Night Stand Club” series is like a decadent slice of cake from a magnificent layered confection. You can absolutely savor each piece on its own—each layer has its unique flavor and charm, after all. “Dirty Books,” while the second slice of this sumptuous dessert, is crafted to stand alone, allowing readers to indulge without having had the first bite, “Dirty Plans.”
However, just like with any multi-layered cake, enjoying it from the bottom up offers a richer, more interconnected experience. The layers—our stories—are designed to complement each other, with characters and themes that weave through the series, enriching the narrative and deepening the reader’s connection to our little universe.
So, while you can dive fork-first into “Dirty Books” without a primer, reading “Dirty Plans” first might just make the flavors of friendship, humor, and romance taste that much sweeter. Think of “Dirty Developments” as the cherry on top, waiting to complete the experience with a promise of more surprises and delights. Each book, while delightful on its own, is part of a greater, more scrumptious banquet.
3. What made you want to be a writer?
The desire to become a writer sprouted from a voracious appetite for stories and a restless imagination that refused to stay tethered to reality. As a child, I was the architect of elaborate worlds built during playtime, crafting narratives for every doll, action figure, and unsuspecting pet that crossed my path. Books were portals to other dimensions, and I was a relentless explorer, diving headfirst into fantasy lands, detective mysteries, and tales of far-off planets.
But the true catalyst was a combination of insatiable curiosity and a penchant for eavesdropping on adult conversations, piecing together snippets of gossip, secrets, and the unspoken tensions that hum beneath the surface of everyday life. These fragments of real-world drama and intrigue ignited a spark within me to weave my own tapestries of fiction, blending the magical with the mundane, the extraordinary with the everyday.
Becoming a writer wasn’t so much a choice as it was a calling—a siren song that lured me with the promise of creating universes where anything could happen, where every ending could be happy, and where the underdog could triumph against all odds. I suppose, that’s why I started in paranormal and urban fantasy, come to think of it. (In case you didn’t know, I’m also international bestselling author, Carissa Andrews.) It was the allure of playing god in a world of my own making, of breathing life into characters who could love, laugh, fight, and dream with the same intensity as the people I observed from the shadows of my youth.
In essence, I wanted to be a writer because I fell in love with the power of stories to evoke emotions, challenge perceptions, and connect us across the chasms of time and space. Writing became my way of capturing the fleeting beauty of human experience, of holding a mirror to the world and to the heart, revealing truths that we often whisper only to ourselves in the quiet of the night.
4. What do you use as inspiration when writing?
Inspiration for writing the series “The One Night Stand Club” dances in from the mosaic of life’s everyday moments, the whispers of the past, and the vibrant tapestry of human connection. It’s like being a magpie, collecting shiny bits of reality, dreams, and the myriad shades of human emotion to weave into the narrative.
Real-Life Observations: The quirks of friends, the banter between strangers at a coffee shop, or the silent stories etched in the faces of passersby—these are the threads that weave the rich fabric of my characters and their interactions. The world is a stage, and each person, a story waiting to be told.
Music & Art: A melody can paint a thousand pictures. Sometimes, a song or a piece of art captures an emotion so perfectly, it begs a story to frame it. It’s like each note or brushstroke is a breadcrumb leading to the heart of a new tale.
Books, Movies, and TV Shows: The stories that move me, make me laugh, or leave me contemplative, serve as wells of inspiration. They’re reminders of the power of storytelling and the infinite possibilities that lie within the realms of fiction.
History and Myths: The past is a treasure trove of stories waiting to be reimagined. Ancient myths, legends, and historical events are rich soil from which new stories can grow, twisted and turned into modern tales with a twist.
Nature and Travel: The whisper of leaves in an ancient forest, the cacophony of a bustling city, or the serene silence of a desert—each landscape tells its own story. Traveling or even exploring nature locally can spark ideas for settings, plots, or characters.
Dreams and What-ifs: Those bizarre dream sequences and the game of “what-if” that the mind loves to play—what if you found a hidden door in your house that led to another world? What if your pet could suddenly talk? These flights of fancy are the seeds of fantastical stories.
Emotional Reservoir: The spectrum of human emotion, from the darkest corners of fear and sorrow to the luminous heights of love and joy, fuels the emotional depth of my writing. Drawing on personal experiences and empathizing with others’ feelings provides a wellspring of inspiration.
In the end, inspiration is a wild creature, appearing in the most unexpected moments, often when I’m least searching for it. It’s a patchwork of the world’s beauty, pain, laughter, and mystery, all waiting to be stitched into stories.
5. If you have writer’s block, what do you do to get back to writing?
Ah, when the dreaded writer’s block hits, I have my own little toolbox of tricks to kickstart the creativity engines again. Here’s what I do:
Change of Scenery: First off, I shake up my surroundings. It could be as simple as moving from my usual writing haunt to a bustling café or finding a quiet nook in a local library. Sometimes, just the act of observing life happening around me—the clink of coffee cups, the murmur of conversation, the ebb and flow of foot traffic—can jog loose the words stuck in my head.
Read, Read, Read: Next, I dive into books, voraciously and across genres. Reading is my way of feeding the muse. It’s not just about the stories themselves, but the craft behind them that fascinates me. How did the author build tension here? What makes this character so compelling? Immersing myself in the works of others broadens my perspective and often sparks new ideas for my own writing.
Play the ‘What If’ Game: Finally, I play the ‘What If’ game with my own work. What if my protagonist made the opposite decision? What if the villain has a change of heart? This not only helps me explore alternative plot avenues but also deepens my understanding of my characters. It’s a fun exercise that can turn the tables on writer’s block, transforming it from a roadblock into a crossroads brimming with potential paths.
These three strategies are my go-to remedies for writer’s block, helping me to navigate through the fog and back into the clear skies of creativity.
6. What did you enjoy the most when you wrote Dirty Books?
In “Dirty Books,” crafting the awkward dance of rediscovery between Carlie and Adam was a delight, particularly because of their unexpected reunion and the layers of miscommunication that followed. Their journey begins with a clandestine encounter at an exclusive club, a night cloaked in anonymity and electric connection, only for them to later face the daylight without the masks of their alter egos. This sets the stage for a series of delightfully cringe-worthy moments that are the heart of their story.
First off, the sheer awkwardness of Carlie finding out her new personal trainer is not “Ada,” as a typo led her to believe, but Adam—the very man from her one-night stand, albeit she’s blissfully unaware of this fact at the beginning. The realization doesn’t hit immediately, allowing for a comedic ballet of blunders and misunderstandings to unfold.
Imagine Carlie, prepared mentally and emotionally to meet a female trainer, only to be greeted by Adam, whose presence stirs an inexplicable blend of embarrassment and attraction in her, even as she remains oblivious to their prior encounter. The gym sessions that follow are riddled with clumsy mishaps, misinterpreted interactions, and the kind of flirty banter that walks the fine line between playful and mortifying, given Carlie’s misunderstanding about Adam’s identity.
Their story captures the essence of rom-com gold—two people, inexplicably drawn to each other, navigating the awkward first steps of attraction under the hilarious misapprehension that they are practically strangers, all while their shared history waits just beneath the surface, ready to complicate everything in the most entertaining way possible.
Writing “Dirty Books” was an exercise in embracing the messiness of human connection, the beauty of unexpected reunions, and the laughter that can be found in the most mortifying of circumstances.
7. Do you have a favourite character in Dirty Books?
Choosing a favorite character from “Dirty Books” is like picking a favorite star in the sky—each one shines brightly in its own way, contributing to the beauty of the night. While I could easily lean into the allure of Carlie with her heart on her sleeve and her penchant for landing in delightfully awkward situations, or Adam, whose depth and warmth slowly unravel throughout the story, there’s one character who unexpectedly steals the show: Grandma Edna.
Grandma Edna is a force of nature, a whirlwind of wisdom wrapped in cheeky innuendos and eye-twinkling mischief. It’s her lovable insight, dressed up in humor and delivered with the perfect timing of a seasoned comedian, that truly captures the heart. She’s the sage guiding light, her advice laced with a lifetime of experience and a dash of naughtiness, making her utterly irresistible.
Edna brings a refreshing perspective to the table, reminding us all to embrace life’s pleasures without apology and to laugh a little louder at the chaos. Her presence in “Dirty Books” is like a warm hug from the past, a connection to simpler times when love was bold, adventures were plentiful, and secrets were shared with a wink and a nod. She’s the grandmother everyone wishes they could share a secret or a scandalous joke with, knowing she’d not only keep it but add her own twist to the tale.
8. What has been your favourite read (aside from your own) this year?
Oh, where do I even begin? This year, I’ve devoured 13 books, and it’s been a wild ride of emotions, ranging from the urge to throw a book against the wall (lovingly, of course) to wanting to cradle one to sleep. Among my conquests were “Part of Your World” by Abby Jimenez, “Love Contact” by Sophie Lark, and “Home Again” by Melissa Grace… all amazing books, in their own right.
But, hold your horses, because the crown jewel of my reading escapade, the one that truly hijacked my romcom-loving heart, was none other than “The Reason I Married Him” by Meghan Quinn. Yes, Meghan Quinn, my personal romcom guru, who knows how to stir the pot of romance with the precision of a chef.
Now, why did this book, the second in the series, manage to win me over? Simple: the chef’s kiss-worthy enemies-to-lovers trope. Imagine the tension of a soufflé on the brink of collapse, but instead of eggs and flour, we’re dealing with glares and snark strong enough to cut through the thickest of wedding cakes. This book serves that tension by the ladleful, garnished with banter so sharp, I was worried for the safety of the characters’ egos. SO good!
9. Do you picture someone or something specific when you write?
When it comes to conjuring up the world and characters of my stories, it’s less about picturing someone specific from the get-go and more about letting the characters introduce themselves to me. It’s a bit like throwing a party in my mind where I’m not entirely sure who’s going to show up. Once they make their grand entrance, however, they’re ingrained in my brain, taking up residence with the kind of boldness only fictional characters can muster.
For example, with “Dirty Books,” it wasn’t that I had a clear image of Carlie and Adam from the start. Instead, Carlie waltzed into my thoughts one day, tripped over a metaphorical rug, and spilled her personality all over the floor of my imagination. Adam, on the other hand, leaned casually against the doorway of my mind, flashing a grin that said, “I’ve got stories you haven’t even dreamed of yet.” From that moment on, their faces, their mannerisms, and their voices were all I could see and hear. It’s as if they took the wheel, steering the story through every twist and turn with me just along for the ride, pen in hand.
This process is what makes writing such a thrilling adventure for me. I never quite know who will show up or what they’ll do, but once they’re there, they become as real to me as anyone I might meet on the street—albeit a lot more cooperative when it comes to navigating the plots I throw at them. So, in essence, my characters are the ones who come to me, vivid and vibrant, and from then on, they’re the only ones I see when I write their stories.
10. What’s next? Can we expect a new book soon?
The gears of my writerly mind are already turning, churning out the deliciously complicated concoctions that will become “Dirty Developments.” This next installment in the series is gearing up to be a rollercoaster of emotions, secrets, and, of course, that irresistible pull of undeniable attraction.
Anna and Joel’s story is one I’ve been itching to tell. Picture this: a brooding musician with a heart of gold hidden under layers of mystery and a dash of arrogance, and Anna, tech-savvy, fiercely independent, with a memory like an elephant—especially when it comes to grudges. Their past is a tangled web of secrets, a mysterious event from a decade ago that Anna hasn’t been able to let go of, and Joel hasn’t been able to explain.
But as fate would have it, their paths are about to cross again, and let’s just say, things are about to go DOWN. And I mean that in every sense of the word. We’re talking fiery arguments that could singe your eyebrows, moments so tender they’ll make your heart ache, and yes, scenes that will have you fanning yourself and looking around to make sure no one’s reading over your shoulder.
“Dirty Developments” isn’t just an enemies-to-lovers tale; it’s a journey of forgiveness, understanding, and the kind of love that can only be forged in the fires of shared history and undeniable chemistry. So, buckle up, because Anna and Joel are about to take you on a wild ride. And trust me, you don’t want to miss what’s about to unfold.
The goal is to have it out by September of this year. So, get on my email list or follow me on IG if you want the latest tea. Of course, you could read along as I write, by joining my Patreon, too! All valid life decisions!
Author Bio:
Carissa Knight is all about bringing the heat in every romance she writes, but making the journey as angsty and awkward as possible. (Because come on! What could be more fun than making the characters squirm?)
While she’s a new kid around the romcom block, Carissa’s actually been kicking out books for over a decade as award-winning & international bestselling author, Carissa Andrews. If you like paranormal or urban fantasy, check her out.
In the meantime, get ready for her brand new steamy romcom series, “The One Night Stand Club!”
Be sure to sign up for Carissa’s email list to stay on top (wink, wink) of her releases!
The Omega Archives: Escalation Erik Melendez Publication date: January 31st 2024 Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Alex Connors returns for a new mission in The Omega Archives: Escalation. But this time, he must take on the most dangerous man in the world: Axel. A super soldier with years of combat experience, Axel is seemingly one step ahead of Alex in every way. What Alex thought would be a breeze turns out to be anything but. He’s still fighting the brainwashing from his training in the Omega Project, which prevents him from feeling fully human. Alex must figure out a way to outsmart and stop Axel . . . without losing what’s left of his humanity.
We sprinted after the last guy who was running through the desert area. My heart pounded as I sprinted after the guy. All I could think about was tackling this guy to the ground and beating the shit out of him. The field seemed like an endless desert of sand and dried-out plants. The last guy made a hard turn into what looked like a cave entrance. The entrance hand a big concrete shaft leading inside with black water pouring out of it. We stopped and shined our flashlights into the cave, but saw nothing. Barns and I went inside. It was dark and smelled like a port-a-potty that hadn’t been cleaned in years; we heard rats squeaking and the echoes of water dripping in the distance. Being in there made my stomach feel like it was going to blow up and I felt like I would never eat again. We walked on until we arrived at a very large room. I went in, and the gate slammed shut behind me. The slamming echoed throughout the room and it froze my heart.
I turned and ran towards the gate. “Hey let me out!” I said. I tried pulling on the bars and kicking the gate down, but it was too strong. “Come on, let me out!”
I tried contacting Max on my radio. “Max, do you copy?” I asked.
“Alex… can you hear…” Max said. My radio went static.
“Long live the Union,” Barnes said as he backed off and sunk into the darkness of the cave. My heart dropped into my stomach as he backed off.
“Long live the Union, indeed!” Another man said in a British accent.
Some lights flashed behind me. I slowly turned around.
it was Axel.
“Alex Connors, we meet at last,” he said in a soft voice as he took a few steps towards me. “I have been looking forward to this for so long.”
A wave of anxiety hit me like a truck. He was a lot bigger in person, but not too big just big enough to pose a threat. I couldn’t take my attention off of how much bigger he was in person.
All around was rock and water. I could hear water flowing nearby only to pour out into a drain. I immediately pulled out my rifle and aimed it at him, ready to shoot as that feeling in my stomach came back.
“Please put down the weapons. You can’t kill all of us,” Axel said.
I looked up, and saw the next level up; a large group of Axels’ men were armed with machine guns and assault rifles. My entire body was covered with laser sight dots like a Christmas tree. My heart froze up as I pictured myself getting blown away.
“They all have armor-piercing bullets, and clear shots,” Axel said.
I put down my rifle, pistol, and knife. The clank of my rifle and pistol hitting the ground echoed in the room. I stood there feeling naked as I took some breaths, trying to calm myself down.
“So you’re Axel? What do you want?”
“Ah, straight to business huh?” he said, smiling.
“You know I have orders to bring you in, right?” I said.
Axel walked closer to me, seeming to grow bigger with each step. “Oh, I am aware of your mission, indeed,” he said “You think I don’t know you, Alex? I’ve been watching you for some time now,” he said while still speaking in his soft voice.
I started to sweat. I wiped my head while I tried to process my thoughts. I continued to try and get my mind off my feelings as I focused on Axel.
“Yeah. Well, to me, you are just another terrorist on some kind of mission. An anarchist,” I said as Axel laughed.
“Ah, so young and still so much to learn. I have been doing this far longer then you have,” he said.
“Age does have its advantages,” I said.
“As well as its disadvantages,” Axel replied.
“Why did you attack the Pentagon?” I asked as I walked closer to him.
Axel started to walk to me. “Easy. I needed to draw attention.”
“By killing innocent people?”
“Ha! Just another stereotypical word: Innocent. Please, Alex, those people were just expendable assets, just like everyone else.”
“We will see about that,” I said as I walked towards him.
At that moment, all I thought about was beating Axel to a pulp. I ran up to him and struck at him with all the strength I had. His steel-like body just absorbed the strikes, taking little to no damage whatsoever. I threw another right hook. He blocked it and threw an uppercut elbow to my face, knocking me back, then a spin kick to my chest, kicking me into a pile of bricks. I felt like someone had hit my solar plexus with a sledgehammer as I tried to breathe. All I could think about was the pain as I lay there like I was a plant being eaten by rodents. I rubbed my jaw, trying to ease the pain, and my body was covered in sweat and dust. The Mercenaries just stood by and watched.
“Your confidence has gotten the best of you. You have been fighting so much of these mere humans that you believe yourself to be unstoppable. You proclaim that you are a super-soldier. But really you are just a boy,” he said.
As I laid there, feeling like my body was crushed by a wrecking ball, I kept thinking about my training. I could still hear the trainer shouting at me to control my emotions. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to get my mind off of my feelings.
“I’ve beaten people like you before,” I said as I got up slowly, trying to fight through the pain.
I did a spin kick to his face with Axel leaning back, slightly dodging it. I then did a spin side kick to him, with him blocking it, followed by a spin jump kick to his chest, which seemingly did nothing to him. I threw more hooks to his face with every bit of strength I had. When I went to throw the third, he grabbed my fist and started squeezing it like an empty Coke can; several snapping sounds emerged from my hand. I could feel the bones in my fist being slowly crushed like wood, and it was all I could focus on. I screamed in pain as I slowly dropped to my knees. I tried to break his grip, but it was as strong as steel. My right hand was practically destroyed.
“All this strength and no coordination. You are truly an amateur,” he said as he pushed me to the ground. He then did a powerful bottom fist strike to my back, which felt like being hit by a pipe wrench.
I took another breath, trying not to explode with anger so I don’t throw up, then got up and went to do another spinning jump kick. While I was in mid-air, Axel punched me directly in the solar plexus, knocking me down. All the air was knocked out of me again, and I could barely breathe. He then picked me up and threw me into a wall. A bang followed as I hit the floor. My body felt like all the bones were broken into bits, and I could not get up. My mind was glued to the pain as it settled. As I lay there, Axel walked up and crouched next to me.
“I understand what you are going through. You’ve spent half of your life training, and now you are split. Every day you contend with adapting to human life. These humans have corrupted your mind, but I can help you. I can save you from them. Please let me help you,” he said. His voice was pretty calm and soothing for a terrorist.
I slowly picked myself up, feeling like my body was going to break into pieces at any second. My arms felt like they were weighed down by trucks, and my chest weighed a ton. I gripped my broken wrist as I tried to find my balance.
“I don’t need your help!” I said, standing ready.
“Very well then,” he said as he did a spinning heel kick to my face, knocking me out. From there it was just blackness and nothing.
Author Bio:
Erik Melendez is a young adult novelist, graduated from t Henry Ford College, and martial arts enthusiast. He holds a black belt in Kung Fu and is skilled in firearms and other weaponry. In high school, he worked his way up to a cadet lieutenant junior grade for the NJROTC program, where he participated on the drill team, physical fitness team, and academic team. An avid fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who, Erik gleans plenty of inspiration for writing action-packed sci-fi stories. He is the author of The Omega Archives and lives in Livonia, Michigan.
Crown of Wings and Thorns Mary Ting Publication date: April 4th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Romance
A fight for a throne that will rewrite history
The demon King Asmodeus has taken over the mortal world. The Order of Angel warriors have a mission to take him down, but many have died or joined the enemy. When Evangeline’s team is ensnared in a web of deception, she has no choice but to form an alliance with King Victus, a vampire ruler with a reputation for killing angels. Can the two set aside the past and take down Asmodeus? Or will they turn on each other first?
Michael is a half-breed angel who wants no part of the nonhuman world. However, his immense power makes him a target. King Asmodeus wants him to join his army, and so does Order of Angels, but Michael dreams of settling down, not going to war. He may not have a choice. When his family’s lives are at stake, he’ll have to pick a side or lose everything.
There is also an APP GAME on Dorian-release April 4th!
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EXCERPT:
I’d heard tales that vampires had an uncanny ability to beguile their prey. Their attractive faces and bewitching scent, partnered with their commanding voices entranced victims, making them do whatever was asked of them.
He must be using the same supernatural powers to captivate me. Despite his effort, I prevailed and pushed the horrendous thought to the far recesses of my mind.
“Never in peace.” He growled, his hot breath fanned the shell of my ear. “You are my enemy.”
“Fine. You want to die here, right now?” I gritted the words through my teeth as I slowly released my feathers, my chest rising and falling just as fast as his.
He made the mistake of pulling back just enough for his eyes to lock with mine. I pushed off with the strength of my feathers, taking him with me. His back thumped the opposite wall and I trapped him with my body and wings.
Victus’s eyes grew wide, stunned. With an ear-piercing snarl, his feet tangled with mine to launch us into a wild spin, and then he pushed me against the wall with such force that all of the air was knocked from my lungs with an oomph.
“I loathe your kind,” he hissed, baring his teeth.
“And I despise everything about you.” I clenched my jaw.
“My hatred for you is greater.” The tendrils under his eyes throbbed.
We were thrown into a battle of push and shove, taking turns on who would be on top of our chaotic tumbling until we eventually stopped at the opposite end of the room, panting.
With my back to the wall, he took a fistful of my hair and yanked my head to the side, exposing my neck. His hot breath and his sharp fangs grazed down my skin.
I shuddered and every vein in my body seared. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or from the heated tussle and our bodies colliding.
“If you believe I’m your enemy, then bite me.” I took a chance by saying the latter. Since he found me revolting, he would likely release me.
He gripped my hair tighter and snarled
Author Bio:
Born in Seoul, Korea, author Mary Ting is an international bestselling, multi-gold award winning author. Her books span a wide range of genres, and her storytelling talents have earned a devoted legion of fans, as well as garnered critical praise. She is a diverse voice who writes diverse characters, often dealing with a catastrophic world.
Becoming an author happened by chance. It was a way to grieve the death of her beloved grandmother and inspired by a dream she had in high school. After realizing she wanted to become a full-time author, Mary retired from teaching. She also had the privilege of touring with the Magic Johnson Foundation to promote literacy and her children’s chapter book: No Bullies Allowed.
The Backup Princess Kate O’Keeffe (Royally Kissed, #1) Publication date: April 4th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
When a Texas gal punches a prince instead of curtsying, you know this isn’t your grandmother’s fairy tale.
Taking the bull by the horns is child’s play compared to ruling Malveaux. Yet here I am, a Texas girl turned princess, swapping tacos for a tiara.
Then I meet Europe’s most eligible bachelor, the irritatingly handsome Prince Alexander, and accidentally deck him instead of curtsying.
Oops.
I’d feel bad if he wasn’t such a self-satisfied jerk.
Now, I’m racing against a royal clock that ticks with the urgency of a preening peacock, trying not to let down my newfound country or my own wild heart. Alexander? He’s a walking contradiction, with a smirk that heats my blood and eyes that tell tales of a depth I didn’t expect.
Decisions aren’t exactly my rodeo, but this time, my choice could cost me my new crown—or lead to a love story that rewrites my happily ever after.
Will this Texas girl rise to the royal challenge, or is this one fairytale destined to end with the slipper never found?
The Princess Diaries meets The Hating Game in this in this dizzyingly romantic modern royal romcom for grown-ups, where an American girl’s unexpected ascent to royalty collides with a fiery romance with a hot neighboring prince. The Backup Princess is a closed-door romance with all the sizzle but without the spice, and a guaranteed happily ever after. It’s Book 1 in the brand new series, Royally Kissed.
“Hello?” I fumble with my phone to locate the torch app, which suddenly seems to have disappeared. “Who’s in here?” I demand, half expecting to find a murderer or some kind of psychopath, wielding a knife, ready to attack.
“Who are you?” an indignant voice responds.
Finally, I locate the torch app and flick it on, scanning the closet.
I suck in a breath as it illuminates a woman, her features lined with fear as she squints at me, her hands held in tight fists in front of her chest.
I relax. She doesn’t look like a murderer or a psychopath, or even a ghost. Well, a little like a ghost. The woman is rather pale.
But there’s something recognizable about her. The look in her eyes is like a deer in headlights. A beautiful deer. A familiar deer.
I take a step closer to her.
“Get back!” she screeches. “I’m warning you; I know tai chi.”
I press my lips together to stop a smile. “You know how to do slow, controlled movements at sunrise?” If I tried to keep the amusement from my voice it wasn’t much of an effort.
“I meant… karate. I know karate and I’m not afraid to use it!” She unfurls her fists and brandishes her flat hands at me.
A laugh bubbles up, and I do my best to style it out as a cough. “I come in peace, I assure you.”
“How do I know that?” She does a chopping motion with one of her hands, presumably to demonstrate her karate prowess.
“Why don’t you put those weapons of yours down?” I reach for her hands to hold them in mine reassuringly. This woman is freaked out and I need to do something.
As my hands fold over hers she snaps them away, raises one in a fist, and before I have the chance to ask what she intends to do with that fist, she jabs it straight at my face.
“Argh!” I call out, my eyes watering as my nose throbs in pain that pulses painfully across my cheekbones. I stagger back, clasping my nose “What did you do that for?”
But no sooner have the words left my mouth when she yanks the cupboard door open and bursts from the room, her skirt billowing behind her as she rushes away from me down the hall.
“What the—?!” I trail after her, muttering in disbelief. Who punches someone in the face in a hallway cupboard when all they were trying to do was show they weren’t a threat?
Through watering eyes, I blink at her as she tears away from me down the hallway—only to fall flat on her face, her skirt billowing up behind her to expose her plain white cotton underpants, and her tiara pinging off her head and bouncing across the carpet.
Who is this woman and what the heck is she playing at?
My instinct kicks in, and before I have the chance to second guess myself, I hurry down the hallway to her aid.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
Her eyes are wild as she yells, “Stay away!” She clamors back to her feet, clutching her head.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, and she shakes her head, her eyes searching the floor.
She must be looking for her tiara.
“It’s over there.” I point at the tiara on the ground, still in one piece.
She grabs it and turns back to me. “I—please don’t tell anyone.”
“Okay.”
She doesn’t say another word, instead she turns on her heel and dashes away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight.
I stand, rooted to the spot, my brain scrambling to make sense of what just happened. I sought a brief moment of refuge in a cupboard only to be attacked by a beautiful woman in a tiara with an American accent.
My nose throbs painfully as realization dawns on me.
She’s Madeline, the American here to claim the throne. The woman a nation has pinned their hopes on.
The woman who wields a strong right hook.
Author Bio:
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Kate O’Keeffe writes exactly what she loves to read: laugh-out-loud romantic comedies with swoon-worthy heroes and gorgeous feel-good happily ever afters. She lives and loves in beautiful Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand with her family and two scruffy dogs. When she’s not penning her latest story, Kate can be found hiking up hills (slowly), traveling to different countries, and eating chocolate. A lot of it.
Visit kateokeeffe.com to sign up to her newsletter and you’ll receive a FREE romcom.
Two Truths and a Marriage Nicole Snow Publication date: March 29th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
The grumpiest billionaire accidentally scores a sunshiny fake fiancee and pure chaos in this hilarious, sweet, and deliriously steamy romance by Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow.
I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie.
You don’t forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory.
I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped.
If you told me I’d wind up wearing his ring, I would’ve died laughing.
But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.
Truth #1: I’m spiritually allergic to this man.
He’s as grumpy as a storm, twice as unpredictable, and he thinks my life’s work is the devil.
Truth #2: I need his money—it’s the only Hail Mary I have to keep my family bakery alive.
That’s why we’re living a ginormous lie that can’t last.
I mean, who would believe we’re engaged when we can barely share the same oxygen?
But Dexter can be wickedly convincing when he needs a win.
And the way he kisses me dizzy right in front of my adoring grandmother…
Hello, butterflies.
What happens when the truth matters less by the day?
What happens when you start falling in love with a lie?
This standalone read brings heat, heart, and mammoth feels all the way to the happily ever after. Witness two opposites attract, collide, and go down fighting the beautiful truth called love.
I’m instantly peppered with goosebumps at what he’s proposing.
Another date.
Another important family member to impress.
Another lie.
More people we have to deceive to keep this big ball of fake engagement crazy going.
Even if we’re getting better at this, something’s got to give.
“There’s something else I had to bring in person,” he says slowly, watching me warily. “For your trouble.”
What’s he talking about?
His hand drifts out of his pocket, clasping a small grey box with gold lettering.
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
When he opens it, revealing what I’m dreading, I don’t remember how to breathe.
A freaking ring.
And not just any ring.
No, this is a ring from Dexter Rory, a man who never learned how to do anything without going all out.
Of course, it’s gorgeous enough to make me stupid.
All diamond-studded white gold with a sparkling blue stone in the middle. The whole vibe is both delicate and totally over the top.
I’m already in love with the wretched thing.
And I hate that I love it.
“There’s no sense in being subtle anymore. Counting my brothers, a ton of people know we’re engaged,” he explains. “No one will believe I’ve proposed without a ring on your finger.”
“Oh my God.” I’m hyperventilating. “You just… you went and… you bought me an engagement ring?” I say faintly, knowing full well there’s no doubt.
An engagement ring.
Those three little words feel completely alien.
His face blanks, but he’s smiling with his eyes, midnight-blue apologies sparkling like stars.
“I’m sorry if it’s not your style, Junie. There’s still time to swap it out.”
“Are you insane?”
I could have searched the world twice over and not found an engagement ring half this magnificent. This man, who doesn’t even know me, is some sort of personal jewelry genius.
“It’s really pretty,” I whisper.
“It’s yours to keep when this is over. Don’t even ask how much it costs,” he says. “Sell it, keep it, give it to your cat, whatever. I’m sure this isn’t the type of engagement you wanted—and technically, it’s not. I’m just grateful you’re willing to go along with it.”
Why does he sound like he’s trying to make himself believe it?
My brain sputters.
All I can see right now is that ring in its little grey box, the blue velvet inside cushioning the precious diamonds and stillborn promises.
I don’t doubt for a second they’re real, and they’re spectacular.
Oh, and its resale value will probably break my jaw when it hits the ground. He’s paying me a massive premium in jewelry on top of the six figures hitting my account.
The bigger the lie, the more I earn.
That should thrill me, coming into a small fortune I never imagined, but it doesn’t.
Not while I’m staring at something that shouldn’t exist.
A ring from a man who’s hilariously out of my league. The one thing I never thought I’d get with a monster catch.
A fake fiancé.
A man who doesn’t want to marry me.
Of course, he shouldn’t. He doesn’t even know me.
Still.
Still, I can’t help feeling it bone-deep, knowing that the only ring I’ll ever get is just a whacky business transaction.
Not because I’m lovable.
Not because it means anything.
Not because I’m someone he’d ever date, much less marry.
Author Bio:
Nicole Snow is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author. She found her love of writing by hashing out love scenes on lunch breaks and plotting her great escape from boardrooms. Her work roared onto the indie romance scene in 2014 with her Grizzlies MC series.
Since then Snow aims for the very best in growly, heart-of-gold alpha heroes, unbelievable suspense, and swoon storms aplenty. With over a million books sold, she lives for the joy of making two people fight with every bit of their soul for a Happily Ever After.
Current fan favorites include her Enguard Protectors series, accidental love novels, plus long beloved MC romance thrillers like the Grizzlies and Deadly Pistols.
Cursed Wolf Sophie Ash (Howling Death MC) Publication date: March 29th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
If the sweet veterinarian finds out I’m a werewolf, she’ll bolt. But she’s my fated mate, and the beast in me is howling for a taste.
I’m the wolf she hit with her car and nursed back to health. I’m also the gruff biker who saved her from her creepy boss.
She has no idea man and beast are one and the same.
We’re from different worlds, but fate’s thread ties us together. She thinks we’re just dating, but she’s meant for me. And as I get to know her, I can’t get enough.
The more time we spend together, the more my wolf howls to claim her. Soon, I won’t be able to hold back the animal within me.
Fate has cursed me with an impossible choice. Reveal my wolf to a human and risk the safety of my pack.
Or force her into my world with a mating bite, and bind our fates forever.
Whether she likes it or not.
This book features fated mates between a human woman and a protective wolf shifter hiding a big secret. Each book in Howling Death MC is a standalone with a guaranteed HEA!
“I love that brain of yours, but don’t think so much right now Emmaline.” His next kiss was softer, sweeter. The warm rumble of his voice pulled me right out of my head. “Be here with me, beautiful. Just feel.”
Don’t think. Feel. The voice in my head echoed what he said.
In an effort to do just that, I barely lifted my head to kiss him again. My eyelids fell closed and I poured all of my focus into feeling Tryn. The softness of his lips contrasted with the roughness of his beard. The heat of him and the breadth of his body. My hands landed on his back and went searching. When I found the hem of his T-shirt, I dipped under it.
Oh, I did not expect his skin to be so soft. The muscles underneath were hard, but also moved with a fluid grace that I never wanted to stop feeling. I already knew he gave great hugs, but to feel him wrap around me skin-to-skin would be on another level.
As if reading my mind, Tryn made off with his shirt when our kisses broke apart for air. When he lowered to me again, his fingers drifted under my shirt slowly, giving me every opportunity to stop him.
I didn’t. I kissed him harder, molding my body to his. A strong hand lifted me a few inches from the bed, just enough to get my shirt and bra off.
“Fucking perfect,” Tryn murmured along my collarbone before kissing lower.
My gaze found the ceiling. Any other time, I’d be in my head again, wondering if I looked weird topless, if my chest was smaller than what he preferred. But what I was quickly figuring out? Tryn knew how to make a girl feel.
Author Bio:
Sophie Ash is a USA Today bestselling author from Northern California, writing paranormal motorcycle clubs with plenty of bite, as well as passionate retellings of myths and folklore.
When she’s not writing, she’s probably reading, gardening, vacuuming up cat hair, or enjoying a craft beer in the sun.
Dirty Books
Author Bio:
Echos Of Books 