Two widows, six kiddos, and a will that leaves them a massive cattle ranch, but only if they work it for a year.
Abigail and Amanda may have married brothers, but they have almost nothing else in common (and really, they never did get along very well). After their husbands both pass away, they have no reason to interact. Their connection drops to an awkward phone call on birthdays and an exchange of holiday cards.
Until an eccentric uncle of their husbands’ leaves a massive cattle ranch to the women’s minor children. . . if they work the ranch themselves. A ranch that’s located near a small town on the border of Wyoming that isn’t too keen on outsiders.
They’re both going to turn the bequest down, clearly. It’s not like either of them could properly raise their kids or find love again in a backwater province like Birch Creek. But when things at home change dramatically—for both moms—they decide to give it a try. . . just for the summer.
What could possibly go wrong in a mere three months? (Or more importantly… what might go right?)
I pay, and we’re out the door. It takes almost five minutes to get all the kids and all the groceries squeezed into the car, but with the sun setting, I’d rather not try and find a place to buy dinner. My son Ethan lets me pile him up with stuff, including a rather precarious stack of produce. At least no one argues with me or begs for McDonald’s. With four kids and more than fourteen hours of travel under our belts, it’s a small miracle.
“I’ll hurry,” I promise.
The sun has lit the entire sky an orangey pink by the time we’re cruising down the street off which the ranch is set. Ethan’s so excited that we’re close that he’s belting “On Top of the World” by Imagine Dragons. It’s making it hard to think, much less hear The Jetsons in the back.
“Cut it out,” Izzy says.
He ignores her.
“We’re almost there,” I say.
“Shut up, Ethan!” Whitney throws something—not sure what—that knocks the bag of apples sideways. They roll off Ethan’s lap and spill all over the center console. One rolls down into the floorboard.
“Guys!”
“Sorry, Mom!” Whitney says. “But Ethan won’t shut up, and I can’t hear.”
I slow way down so that I can grab the apple. I finally end up stopping in the middle of the road while I rummage around for it. I’m lucky this road has no traffic on it.
My hand finally wraps around the shiny, smooth skin. “Ha!” After I sit up again, I look around to make sure it’s clear for me to drive.
There aren’t any other cars, but there is a tall, shirtless man mowing the front lawn of a small white farmhouse. It may not be that warm outside, but his body still glistens with sweat. I can’t look away from the defined pecs, the bunched biceps, and the washboard stomach. Ohmygoodness, I’m too old to go entirely blank when I see someone who’s magazine centerfold hot. I’m sure he’s young enough to be—
But then he looks up, and I realize he’s not young at all. He’s close to my age. And he’s staring right at me staring back at him, and he has no idea I wasn’t staring at him the entire time we were stopped. My foot slams against the gas pedal and we shoot forward, but he waves in spite of my quick departure. I wonder whether this man who must be a relatively close neighbor could see through the window and might recognize my face. I really hope not.
The sun has dropped so low that there’s barely a golden glow when we crest the ridge and turn into the driveway my map is bleating at me to take, and my heart has finally settled down to a sustainable rate. “I think this is it, guys.”
Bridget loves her husband (every day) and all five of her kids (most days).
She’s a lawyer, but does as little legal work as possible. She has three quarter horse geldings, a Holsteiner (jumping) horse, and she spends too much time riding and not enough time writing. (Or too much time writing and not enough time riding, depending on your perspective!)
She has more chickens than she’ll admit to having, two lions head rabbits, a cat, two dogs (one bouncy and one yappy). She makes cookies waaaaay too often and believes they should be their own food group. In a (possibly misguided) attempt at balancing the scales, she kickboxes daily.
So if you don’t like her books, her kids, her horses, her chickens, or her cookies, maybe don’t tell her in person.
B.E. Baker is the romance/women’s fiction penname for Bridget E. Baker, who also writes fantasy, end of the world, and dystopian books that add a little magic to the world.
Title: One for the Money Author: Skye Warren Genre: Contemporary Romance
Finn Hughes knows about secrets. His family is as wealthy as the Rockefellers. And as powerful as the Kennedys. No one knows that the men in his line have a debilitating, early-onset illness. He’s managed the business from a young age while his father served as the figurehead. All the while knowing there’s a ticking clock on his ability to lead.
Eva Morelli is the oldest daughter. The responsible one. The caring one. The one who doesn’t have time for her own interests.
Especially not her interest in the charismatic, mysterious Finn Hughes.
A fake relationship is the answer to both their problems.It will keep the swarming society mothers from throwing their daughters at him.And it will keep Eva’s mother from bothering her about marriage.
Then the fake relationship starts to feel real.
But there’s no chance for them. No hope for a woman who’s had her heart broken. And no future for a man whose fate was decided long ago.
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dangerous romance. Her books have sold over one million copies. She makes her home in Texas with her loving family, sweet dogs, and evil cat.
Title: Freedom or Death Author: Adria Carmichael Series: Juche #4 Genre: Young Adult Dystopian
A highly addictive Young Adult Dystopian Survival Saga that will keep you glued to the pages.
Areum and Nari are arrested and face imminent doom, but are saved at the last minute by an unexpected and unspeakable betrayal.
Still, they are far from being out of the woods. As they are reassigned to food gathering duty in the mountains, they must continue their fight for survival under the constant threat of daily executions and the rampant starvation sweeping through the prison camp. And with time running out for Nari, Areum is more desperate than ever to find a way to escape, making her forge risky new alliances that until now would have been unthinkable.
As the situation in the camp deteriorates further, their survival comes down to their ability to work as a team. But dark secrets and lies continue to be revealed, sending the fragile coalition to the verge of collapse at an alarming speed.
I buried my face in the pit of my elbow that rested on my folded knees. My head felt almost as heavy as my heart, and the whirlwind of thoughts raged on ceaselessly.
And Nari’s condition is only one of all the Sacred Rules we have broken these past months. Soon, both of us will be up on Cemetery Hill under a buzzing cloud of black flies together with—
A sudden scream made me jump so hard I smashed my head against the wall behind me. I ran to the door and pressed my ear against the cold metal with one hand firmly over the excruciatingly throbbing bruise on my scalp. The scream died out just as abruptly as it had started, but I remained in the same position for a long time before I returned to my corner. The scream had come from a girl, but not Nari. I was sure of that. Still, I couldn’t help rubbing my fingernails in a futile attempt to ease the phantom pain from the invisible needles piercing deep into the pink, tender flesh underneath them.
I didn’t have to wait long for the next scream. This time, it was a boy. I told myself it didn’t sound like Jun Ha, but I was less sure this time. Immediately after that scream had faded, another scream penetrated the air. And then another. The harrowing screams came and went—each more agonizing and horrifying than the previous. I crawled up further into my corner with my hands covering my ears, desperately trying to gather my thoughts. I went through the events of the past few days that had led me to sit here, waiting for my turn to scream.
Adria Carmichael is a writer of dystopian fiction with a twist. When she is not devouring dystopian and post-apocalyptic content in any format – books, movies, TV-series and PlayStation games – she is crafting the epic and highly-addictive Juche saga, her 2020 debut novel series that takes place in the brutal, totalitarian nation of Choson. When the limit of doom and gloom is reached, a 10K run on a sunny day or binging a silly sitcom on a rainy day is her go-to way to unwind.
A cat burglar and an assassin run for their lives across Paris—and try not to get distracted by the sizzling attraction between them.
Assistant antique dealer by day, cat burglar by night, Sable Devereaux has lived in the shadows for years. With one final heist, she can walk away from a life of crime and open her own antique store, retiring to the quiet existence she has always dreamed of. But during her last theft, she witnesses a murder and goes on the run to escape the cross-hairs of some very powerful people.
Agent and master-of-disguise, Hunter Mitchell is intrigued when he has to subdue the sexy thief after she breaks into his Parisian apartment. Then he quickly learns he must protect her—and himself—from an organization hiding much more than a murder.
The couple races across Paris in a fight to stay alive and stop one of the most powerful organizations in the world—and discover what they’ve been looking for all along… is each other.
After she hung up, Hunter took the phone. “What did he say?” he asked.
She and Hossam had carried on the conversation in French.
“He told me to trust you and said I’d be safe with you until he can return to Paris.”
“So you trust me now?”
“Hossam would not have told me to trust you if I shouldn’t. He’s vouched for you, and that’s good enough for me.”
Hunter nodded, and a moment of understanding emerged between them. Trust was paramount, but guilt niggled at the base of her spine. She hadn’t been completely honest with Hunter yet, but she would be. She only met him yesterday, and she’d exercised caution in the information she divulged. When Hossam arrived, she’d tell them both everything.
Sable gathered up the rest of her belongings and put them in her rolling suitcase. With one last look around the room, she made sure she left nothing behind.
“I’ve got it,” Hunter said, taking the handle on the suitcase.
His fingers brushed hers and scalded her skin. Sable snatched away her hand. She took two steps in reverse to widen the distance between them, and her back hit the wall.
He raised one eyebrow and then, ever so slowly, edged closer. He crowded her, looking down from his superior height, head cocked to the side. “You know I don’t bite, right?”
His gray eyes suggested different. He looked like the kind of man who assaulted a woman with rough hand strokes and deep kisses and nips to her lips—and she’d love every second of it.
Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sensual, passionate romance novels, and was born and raised in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale. To get sneak peeks, notices of sale prices, and find out about new releases, visit her website and join her mailing list. Enjoy free stories on her website at www.delaneydiamond.com.
Get a front-row seat to classic striptease during the heyday of burlesque.
When former burlesque dancers Dolly O’Dare and her friends discover that their manager, Ballard “Balls” Benedict, has skipped town with their retirement funds, there’s no stopping the irate troupe from converging on Las Vegas to track down the scoundrel. But to rack up enough dough to hire a private dick, the six dames must sell their life stories in a steamy, hilarious, and – yes – sweet tell-all book.
They’ll do whatever it takes to find Balls and get their money back. After all, at this point in their lives, they’ve got nothing to lose. But along the way they discover that the real treasures are in zany old friendships, quirky new acquaintances, and maybe even a second-chance romance or two.
Join the fun and fall in love with these wildly wonderful women in this first book in the Burly-Q Girls series. You may end up doing a little hoochie-coochie dance to become a Burly-Q Girl yourself.
This work of fiction was inspired by real-life stories told to the author by her burly-que friends.
Suddenly, an impatient knock from outside assaulted the apartment door like a mobster’s Tommy gun. Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.
“Who in hell …?” Ginger got up and opened the door.
Annie Fannie stood there in all her hoity-toity glory.
Ginger glared up at the tall, svelte woman, her shock evident. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Dressed in a designer outfit that no doubt cost more than Ginger’s entire wardrobe, hell, probably her entire apartment, the uninvited guest pressed the back of her hand to Ginger’s shoulder to nudge her aside. “Let me in. The heat out here is insufferable.” She came to an abrupt halt just inside the door, leaving Ginger stuck in the open threshold to deal with the heat. “Well, well, well. Look … at … this,” Annie snarled as she sauntered into the room and stood like a queen looking down her nose at her peons. “The whole gang is here. Hello, girls. It’s been a long time.”
Dolly huffed. “Not long enough.”
“Aren’t you going to invite me to sit down?”
“No, Annie, we’re not,” Ginger stated flatly.
“I haven’t gone by Annie since I quit performing. It’s Anastasia now.” She patted her dyed blond hair, making certain they noticed she had a chichi coif.
“I’m guessing you’ve never quit performing, one way or another.” Dolly stood up to face the interloper mano a mano.
Merry hopped up to join the line of defense.
“My, my. What hostility. What did I ever do to make you all so rudely hostile toward me?”
“Gee, Annie, I’m surprised you ask, because we know you don’t give a rat’s ass what we think.” Dolly balled up her fists and ground them into her hips, at the ready.
“As for the hostility,” Ginger seethed, thirty years of hot anger boiling up unexpectedly, “how about the fact that you lied to my boyfriend about me and stole him away? Huh? How about that?”
“Pfft. Please. He wasn’t worth having. I only dated him a few times. You could have had him back. Oh wait. I remember now. He went on to Pussy Willow after me. I guess he liked her … willow.” She smirked, amused at her supposed wit.
“You treated us like shit,” Dolly growled. “You insulted our costumes and our acts and even our bodies. Like you thought you were so much better than us.”
“Well …” Annie made the mistake of throwing her arms out wide and looking around the room. “I’ve certainly never lived in a hovel like this.”
That did it. Ginger flung herself at their tormenter, clawing at the viper’s haute couture dress and tearing it down to her waist.
“You little bitch!” Annie Fannie, once the most elegant of exotic dancers, turned out to be a formidable foe. She grabbed a handful of Ginger’s hair and with that they hit the floor, rolling around and throwing punches as best they could. Arms and legs flailed about at random, like a game of Whack-a-mole gone bad.
Dolly and Merry jumped into action, each snatching a brawler and yanking her away. Everybody got roughed up in the process. The Women’s Wrestling Association had nothing on them.
“Girls! Girls!” Dolly hollered. “This isn’t going to change anything.”
“Stop! Stop!” Merry yelled at the same time. “You’re both acting like Neanderthals.”
Once separated and on opposite sides of the room, the brutal enemies tried to kill each other with laser stares.
“Look at what you did to my dress. It’s ruined.” Annie slung the comment across the room. Her pink, embroidered, lacy, padded, underwire bra poked out at them.
“Yeah. Well, that’s nothing compared to what you did to my life. I loved Harold!” Ginger’s lower lip quivered as she shook a quaking finger at her nemesis.
Annie frowned, paused, then said, “His name was Howard.”
“No, it wasn’t! He was my Harold.”
“Ah, Ginger, honey.” Dolly’s gentle tone caused Ginger to look at her friend. “I remember him.”
They watched as awareness clicked in on Ginger’s face.
“As much as I hate to admit that Annie is right, his name was Howard,” Dolly reminded her.
Ginger looked to Merry for support, but all Merry could offer was a helpless shrug.
“Oh. Oh. Well. Yeah, sure. Now I remember.” Ginger straightened herself, patted her mussed up hair, casually sat down at the table, and calmly clasped her hands. “I knew that.”
“Now that we’ve done a brawling bump and grind down memory lane,” Annie chided, stuffing the torn edge of her dress up into her bra straps, “I’d like to get to the reason for my visit and then get out of this dump as quickly as possible.”
“Do tell,” Dolly said. “Why in hell are you here?”
Happy endings and new beginnings – but not as you expect. Even better. That’s what Linda Hughes’ books are all about, whether historical romantic suspense, mystery, or second chance romance.
When Linda was 12 years old she wrote in her diary that she would be a “writter” when she grew up. With 20 books and a passel of writing awards, her dream has come true. She is a #1 bestselling co-author.
So browse around on her page. Find something that’s just right for you. That 12-year-old with big dreams, who still lives within Linda, is delighted.
Enter to win a $5 Amazon gift card + swag box (incl red sequin pasties (like the cover of the book), an autographed book, and a Burly-Q Girl temporary tattoo)!
Title: Only in Darkness Author: Brenda Stanley Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Based on ancient Mayan mythology comes a story of bloodlust, love and the horrors of coming of age.
In ancient Central America, the legend of the Camazotz: large, bat-like creatures that desire blood and terrorize the villages in search of prey. When the volcano, Masaya, erupts and kills the tribe from which the Camazotz are from, they discover a miracle ash in the ruins.
Years later in present-day eastern Idaho, 17-year-old Emilio Chavez lives in an isolated area near the lava rock cliffs of the American Falls reservoir. From birth, he has been different. After Emilio’s friend Clara falls victim to a terrible accident, suspicions about Emilio arise, and he discovers an astonishing secret about his past.
As a sinister force tightens its grip on Clara, can Milo save her from those searching for blood while keeping his own internal demons at bay?
I stand looking off the cliff at the raging river and jagged boulders below. I’m going to jump–or rather let myself give in to it and just fall–that I know. What I don’t know is what will happen next. There are two ways it will end, and the more I think about it, the more trouble I have deciding which result will be worse. Often, it’s the not knowing that makes life hell. I’ve been in the dark and unaware for so many years. Now I know what I am. But it is the unknown of what that fate holds for me, should I survive, that makes me shudder.
I’ve lost my family, my friends, and everything I’ve ever known, and still, someone, or something, is out there hunting me down like an animal, trying to take what has completely altered my life. The only thing I do know is I’m going to take the leap. It will be a rush for a few seconds, and then I will hit the rocks and hopefully die instantly or–and this is what I can’t fathom–if what they say is true, my back will explode, and I will transform into what my grandmother and the others of the tribe call the winged ones.
Brenda Stanley is a former television news anchor and investigative reporter for the NBC affiliate in Eastern Idaho. She has been recognized for her writing by the Scripps Howard Foundation, the Hearst Journalism Awards, The Idaho Press Club and the Society for Professional Journalists. She is a graduate of Dixie College in St. George, Utah and the University of Utah in Salt Lake City. She is the mother of 5 children, including two sets of twins. Brenda and her husband Dave, a veterinarian, live on a small ranch near the Snake River with their horses and dogs.
Title: Dark Blue Waves Author: Kimberly Sullivan Genre: Time-Travel Romance
When you wake up in Bath, England two hundred years in the past, how far can a love of Jane Austen get you?
Janet Roberts dreams of an academic career in literature, so she can hardly believe her good fortune when she’s accepted into a Jane Austen graduate seminar in Bath, England. Settled in Georgian splendor among her seminar colleagues, Janet and her classmates live, eat and breathe Jane Austen.
An accident interrupts this idyll when Janet regains consciousness in her own room—back in Regency England. For a scholar of nineteenth-century literature, this should be a dream come true.
But Janet quickly learns there’s a world of difference between scholarly knowledge of the written page and maneuvering real life as a reluctant time traveler.
Her burgeoning friendship with Emma Huntington eases her entrée into nineteenth-century society. However, Emma’s brother, the handsome, proud and frustratingly magnetic Sir Edward, is far less welcoming.
While desperately attempting to make sense of her dilemma, Janet treads a thin line between trying to blend into her new world and not being unmasked as the imposter she is. Can she discover the way to return to her twenty-first century life? After working so hard to create a rewarding nineteenth-century life for herself and opening her hart to friendship and love, does she even want to?
Janet slid her legs over the side of the bed, pushed bare feet into her slippers and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains. It was still dark, with only a glimmer of light along the horizon signaling the start to the new day. The fading night sky was clear. An ideal day for riding – something she had learned young, alongside her mother who loved to ride.
Nothing cleared her head better than a gallop through the countryside. She wished she could go off on her own, before everyone was up. Instead, she sat at her table and dipped her quill into the inkwell. Scratching the quill against parchment, she recorded her observations from last night as the sun emerged and cast its golden light upon the waters of the pond.
Penning her thoughts cleared her head, and she felt better when Turner entered the room.
“Miss Jane! You are up so early. Why did you not ring for me?”
“There was no need. I was enjoying the silence before the start of the day. I feel refreshed now.”
“I have brought you one of Miss Emma’s riding habits for your morning excursion.” She stroked the fabric. “This should fit you beautifully.”
Janet felt a wave of nausea. “This is how I am supposed to ride? A dress and jacket? Won’t the dress get caught up in the horse’s legs?”
“Miss Jane, the extra folds get tucked under your legs when you are riding sidesaddle. Surely you must do the same in the New World? There is even a petticoat that will cover what the habit cannot.” Her cheeks flushed. She looked down. “Your ankles, my dear. It would be most inappropriate to have them on view for all to see.”
How had Janet failed to consider the riding habit and sidesaddle when agreeing to ride with Emma? How many BBC films had she seen? And what exactly had she expected to wear to ride two hundred years ago? Surely not a jockey’s silks. How on earth could she ride in this get-up and not kill herself? No, she couldn’t risk it. She’d allow Turner to dress her, and then bow out at the moment of saddling. It was hardly worth risking a broken neck—quite literally—in exchange for a bit of exercise.
Turner was pulling tight the stays of the torturous corset Janet had hoped would be unnecessary for riding. She should have known better. The habit was swept over her head. A little jacket was added afterwards. Its tight arms limited mobility. Aside from its more somber colors, the habit appeared to Janet almost the same as the dresses she wore on a daily basis. How in God’s name could women ride in this get-up? How she longed for her no-nonsense, twenty-first-century riding britches and boots.
Janet sat sulkily at the breakfast table, long before the rest of the family was ready. She drank her coffee slowly, devising ways to extricate herself from her morning ride without causing offense. A headache? Upset stomach? An attack of Mrs. Bennet-like nerves?
“You are up already! You must be eager for our ride,” said Emma as she breezed into the breakfast room. Elegant in her riding habit and certainly capable of sitting expertly in it in her sidesaddle, Emma took her seat across from Janet. Janet wondered how to explain the sudden change of mind to her friend. She poured coffee into Emma’s empty cup. As soon as they had finished breakfast, they walked the short distance to the stable.
Kimberly grew up in the suburbs of Boston and in Saratoga Springs, New York, although she now calls the Harlem neighborhood of New York City home when she’s back in the US. She studied political science and history at Cornell University and earned her MBA, with a concentration in strategy and marketing, from Bocconi University in Milan.
Afflicted with a severe case of Wanderlust, she worked in journalism and government in the US, Czech Republic and Austria, before settling down in Rome, where she works in international development, and writes fiction any chance she gets.
She is a member of the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA) and The Historical Novel Society and has published several short stories and two novels: Three Coins and Dark Blue Waves.
After years spent living in Italy with her Italian husband and sons, she’s fluent in speaking with her hands, and she loves setting her stories in her beautiful, adoptive country.
Title: Death Warden Author: Debbie Cassidy Series: MC Syndicates #2 Genre: Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance
Death waits for no one, unless you’re a necromancer, in which case he might stop for a cup of tea and a chat.
I didn’t ask to be a necromancer, and I certainly didn’t ask to be saddled with a magical amulet holding an ancient big bad at bay.
I got both.
All I want to do is steer clear of trouble, write horror novels, and hang with my talking cat.
But the spell on my amulet is weakening, and the only way to sustain it is to pick up and go to Frostgate—a city built on a powerful convergence of ley lines.
The plan is to lay low and wait for a revelation that’ll lead me to my conduit, my perfect match, to help me to sustain the spell on the lock.
But there is no laying low at Grave Spirits MC. No avoiding the burning stares of the hellhound Vice President, the icy cool assessment of the undead Sergeant at Arms, or the warm amber gaze of the hellhound Club Secretary.
I can’t get involved with any of them. I have a perfect mate to find.
But for the first time in my life steering clear of trouble is the last thing I want to do.
Debbie Cassidy lives in England, Bedfordshire, with her three kids and very supportive husband. Coffee and chocolate biscuits are her writing fuels of choice, and she is still working on getting that perfect tower of solitude built in her back garden. Obsessed with building new worlds and reading about them, she spends her spare time daydreaming and conversing with the characters in her head – in a totally non psychotic way of course. She writes Urban Fantasy, Fantasy and Reverse Harem Fantasy. All her books contain plenty of action, romance and twisty plots.
Title: Love, Not War Author: Anthology Genre: Romance
LOVE, NOT WAR — A charity Anthology for the Ukraine Crisis Fund
17 authors have come together to write 16 different romance stories of all sub-genres and tropes.
LOVE, NOT WAR releases 05.24.22
All proceeds will go to benefit affected communities in Ukraine, with a focus on the most vulnerable, including children, who need access to food, medical services, and psychosocial support. It also supports humanitarian assistance in impacted communities in Ukraine and surrounding regions where Ukrainian refugees have fled.
This Cinderella romance from Emmy Grayson has it all—drama, revenge…and a royal proposal to remember!
His royal ring is on the table…
Her destiny is in his hands!
Small-town bartender Briony Smith’s exhilarating flirtation with customer Cass is a welcome distraction from her very ordinary existence. She’s speechless when Cass reveals he’s a prince and she’s a long-lost princess!
She’s even more shocked by his convenient proposal! Marrying Cass will allow her to be part of the family she’s never known. And their powerful attraction can only sweeten the deal. But will it still feel like a fairy tale after Cass’s admission that making her his bride is part of his plan for revenge?
Pretty far down the road of self-pity, she thought with a disgusted sigh as she shivered in the winter cold and glanced over her shoulder. Her suite was a vision of royal luxury. A rounded bed dominated one side, raised up on a dais with a peaceful painting of the mountains on the wall, was covered by violet silk sheets and a thick white comforter. Marble steps led down to a sitting area comprised of a red fainting couch and matching chairs done up in velvet and trimmed in silver. Wood roared in a stone fireplace, flanked on either side by bookcases set into the.
Poor little rich girl. She’d heard the sentiment often enough, had done her fair share of eye-rolling when she’d read an interview with the latest actress or model who talked about the hard parts of their lives, the lack of privacy, the pervasive loneliness.
Except now she understood it all too well.
The door swung open. Her eyes narrowed even as her heartbeat sped up at the sight of Cass standing in the doorway. Clad only in his dark trousers and midnight blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tan forearms, he looked sinfully good.
She turned her back to him. How could the man be so manipulative and still look so handsome?
The door to the balcony clicked open.
“Cold out here.”
The shiver that traveled down her spine had nothing to do with the freezing winter air tugging at her hair.
She gritted her teeth. Just because her body found Cass physically attractive didn’t mean the man wasn’t a manipulative snake.
“Matches the personalities of most of the people who live here.”
Emmy’s interest in romance can be traced back to her love of Nancy Drew books, when she tried to solve the mysteries of her favorite detective while rereading the romantic chapters with Ned Nickerson. Fast-forward a few years when she discovered a worn copy of “A Rose in Winter” by Kathleen Woodiwiss on her mother’s bookshelf, and she was hooked. Over 20 years later, Harlequin Presents made her dream come true by offering her a contract for her first book.
When Emmy isn’t writing or reading, she’s chasing around her baby boy, feeding her menagerie of fur babies or carving out a little time on her front porch with her firefighter hubby.
Enter to win a grand prize that includes a signed copy of A Cinderella for the Prince’s Revenge, a copy of Kiss at Midnight by Eloise James, a $10 Amazon gift card, and a romance novel candle from Novel Candle Co!
