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Three Reasons You Should Read This Sweet Romance:
Rescuing the Mountain Man by Sadie Anne and Alana Terry is a short and sweet romance that brings peace to two families that have experienced tragedy and grief.
The dogs! Oh my gosh, they were so cute. I really need to get some sled dogs in my life.
There was a lot of emotion about the past to unload and unpack, and I loved seeing people come together to do that.
When the past crashes down in the cold Alaska wilderness, can their faith rescue each other?
Sarah No matter where my travel blog takes me, I wonder if God has a bigger plan for me. At the moment, I’m in my father’s hometown of Talkeetna, Alaska. It’s where he grew up before love took him to the Lower 48.
As soon as I step foot in the town, its residents’ genuineness and selflessness wrap me in a peace I’ve never known. I plan to make the most of my few days here, but when my schedule hits a snag, a newfound friend sets up a sled dog ride with a local.
Thor is as sure and strong as the Alaskan Mountains. I can see the pain behind his mesmerizing emerald eyes and long to know what caused it. With enough time, I’m sure he’d trust me with his deepest secrets, but I’m only here for a few days.
Thor No matter how much I love people, it’s not enough to make them want to stay. I’m not sure why they left, and I’m still here in Talkeetna, but who am I to question God’s plan?
When the local B&B owner asks me to guide a last-minute sled dog ride, I drop everything to accommodate the request. My dogs need the exercise, and I could use an afternoon away, too.
Sarah is as curvy as the backroads of Denali, and her beauty is just as breathtaking. A few questions into our ride and I recognize who she is. If she learned the truth about me, she’d never want to make a permanent life in the village.
Rescuing the Mountain Man by Sadie Anne and Alana Terry is quick look into Alaska (which is a setting I love) and a little of the past. I think it might have been a little too quick. It starts off fantastic, with Sarah and Thor meeting and finding that instant connection. I’m OK with instant connection, as long as it isn’t insta-love. And this is just what they have. They feel comfortable around each other, and want to get to know each other better.
But as they get to know each other better, the past comes back to haunt them. But I’m not really sure why. The character does a great job of explaining their emotions in the book, but it just didn’t ring full and true to me. And, this may just be me – others may understand better than me.
There is a little excitement and a coming together (this is a romance), but then it all just wrapped up super fast. I felt like I never really got to know Sarah and Thor individually or see how they grew into a couple. I would have loved to see a little more of them growing together and falling in love. It seemed to skip over the best part.
**I voluntarily reviewed a complimentary copy of this book**
Nora has visions of horrific things. Things that lurk in the shadows and feast on bones. After moving with her mother into an old farmhouse, Nora discovers a blank journal that fills itself with an ominous warning. A cursed beast is coming for her and time is running out. When the blood moon rises, so shall the beast.
Local teen, Rebel, has his own trepidations about the house. His parents, both paranormal scientists, were investigating it when they died under mysterious circumstances. His growing feelings for Nora motivate him to battle the ghosts of his past, if it means keeping her safe.
Allies to turn to enemies. Fiction turns to fact. The past and the present collide. All in an epic battle to claim unfathomable power. Can Nora unlock the secrets buried within the farmhouse in time to save herself and those dear to her from a grisly fate?
Something spurred Nora from her dreams. Her eyelashes fluttered open, and the room was black. Groping her fingers on the mattress, she searched for her cell to check the time. Shading her eyes from the brightness, she read it was three in the morning. The cell screen faded to black, putting her back into darkness.
The mattress wobbled. What is that? It was as if someone was trying to wake her. Pressing the button on her cell again, Nora used it like a flashlight, combing her room. As the light faded she detected movement.
“Hi,” a young boy said and in the process of crossing his legs at the end of her bed.
Nora gasped.
Instead of clicking the light from her cell again, she refocused, acclimating herself to the night and the small boy before her.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t be scared.”
His childish voice split through her paranoia. He waggled his hands, palms up in front of himself.
She swallowed her screams which felt like blistering knots in her gut. “I-I’m not that scared. Just . . . amazed.” More like terrorized, with palpitations reaching a risky rate. Nora propped herself against the beds headboard taking the sheet with her, tugging it to her neck. Could the ghost hear her malfunctioning heart or see her knees jittering beneath the covers? “It’s not every day I-I talk to a ghost.” Then, she thought of Nevaeh. Unlike her, the boy’s body didn’t sharpen or become humanlike. His edges gleamed as though made of starlight, and the rest of him was vague and transparent at certain angles. His long-sleeve button-down shirt, suspenders, and knee-length breeches reminded her of a farmer’s attire from the olden days.
I am blessed with a loving family and forever friends. My world revolves around them.
I grew up in the small village of Lancaster, NY, where I married my sweetheart. I’m devoted to raising 5 cherished children, and now my grandchildren.
I love to immerse myself in great books of every kind of genre, which helps me to write purely for entertainment, and hopefully to inspire readers. When not stationed at my computer you can find me in the woods taking long walks with my dog.
What they crave the most comes with a brutal price.
As the youngest brother of the notorious Falcone clan, Adamo grew up surrounded by blood and violence. Drugs soon became his way of coping.
Becoming a Made Man like his brothers was his destiny but never his passion. When he becomes the organizer of his family’s successful illegal street races and one of their thrill-seeking drivers, he finally asserts his own path in the harsh mafia world.
His purpose isn’t the only thing Adamo discovers on the fuel-soaked roads he calls home…
Dinara Mikhailov is one of the few female race drivers and hard to ignore. Not only because of her flaming red hair and ruthless driving style, but also because the Bratva princess is allowed to drive in enemy territory.
Soon Adamo and she find themselves entangled in a passionate game that goes beyond the race track. Yet, both haunted by events of the past, their dark cravings put everything on the line.
As what they crave the most comes with a brutal price.
She was stunning with her high cheekbones, plump lips and long legs. The fire in her eyes and that confident smile curling her lips made her look like a fierce goddess, especially with that red hair flaming up in the sinking sun.
She stopped right in front of me. “And? Did we pass the inspection? Are we allowed to participate in your race circus?”
I smirked. “You’re allowed to participate in the qualification race today. If you make it into our racing camp that’s up to you and your driving skills.”
Dinara tilted her head. “I’m not worried about my driving skills, Falcone. What about yours? When was the last time you did a qualification race? You’re set in the main races, aren’t you?”
She had quite a mouth on her and bravado, I had to give it to her. Most people, even in the racing camp, either kissed the ground I walked on or tried to stay clear of my path from fear.
“I’m a part of the camp, because I’m one of the best drivers, Dinara. If I’d join the qualification race, that would only mean that fewer new drivers would get a chance to qualify.” The racers who participated in all the main races in the season were part of our racing camp, which was what the name promised: a camp where we all lived in the months of the races.
She leaned closer, giving me the chance to really admire the blue-green of her eyes, a shade I’d never seen. “Then why don’t you join the race today? Show off your amazing driving skills. Let’s see what you got, Falcone.”
I usually wasn’t easily baited but Dinara had me on her hook. I wanted to impress her, and I wanted to know why she was here. What her endgame was. “All right,”I said, grinning. “I’ll race today but don’t come crying to me afterward because your brother didn’t make the cut.”
“Dima’s a big boy. He can handle himself. Don’t underestimate him.”
“I don’t underestimate either of you. But you better not underestimate me either. I’m a Falcone, winning runs in my blood.”
“Arrogance too?”
I smiled. “I think you and I both don’t lack confidence when it comes to racing. Now let’s stop the chitchat and prove we aren’t just words.”
Dinara stood on her tiptoes, leaning even closer and bringing her lips close to my ear. “Yes, let’s do that, Adamo.”
She stepped back and turned around, walking away, giving me a perfect look at her ass in her tight pants. I ran a hand through my hair. She was a hot piece of ass, but I preferred less trouble in my sex life. Hooking up with grid girls or the rare racer girl had proven a hassle in the past, so I’d stopped reacting to advances. Business and pleasure better stayed separated.
Cora Reilly is the author of the Born in Blood Mafia Series, The Camorra Chronicles and many other books, most of them featuring dangerously sexy bad boys. Before she found her passion in romance books, she was a traditionally published author of young adult literature.
Cora lives in Germany with a cute but crazy Bearded Collie, as well as the cute but crazy man at her side. When she doesn’t spend her days dreaming up sexy books, she plans her next travel adventure or cooks too spicy dishes from all over the world.
Despite her law degree, Cora prefers to talk books to laws any day.
Title: The Dating Plan Author: Sara Desai Genre: Romantic Comedy
Even with a step-by-step plan, these fake fiances might accidentally fall for each other in this hilarious, heartfelt romantic comedy from the author of The Marriage Game.
Daisy Patel is a software engineer who understands lists and logic better than bosses and boyfriends. With her life all planned out, and no interest in love, the one thing she can’t give her family is the marriage they expect. Left with few options, she asks her childhood crush to be her decoy fiance.
Liam Murphy is a venture capitalist with something to prove. When he learns that his inheritance is contingent on being married, he realizes his best friend’s little sister has the perfect solution to his problem. A marriage of convenience will get Daisy’s matchmaking relatives off her back and fulfill the terms of his late grandfather’s will. If only he hadn’t broken her tender teenage heart nine years ago… Sparks fly when Daisy and Liam go on a series of dates to legitimize their fake relationship. Too late, they realize that very little is convenient about their arrangement. History and chemistry aren’t about to follow the rules of this engagement.
It wasn’t the acceptance a man dreamed about, but it was a “yes” just the same. He pulled out his phone.
“I’ll tell my assistant to get us on the first flight to Vegas tonight.”
“Vegas?” Daisy’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“They do quickie weddings,” Liam said. “I know a good chapel. Some of them are tacky, but this one has class. We can fly out tonight. The Elvis wears a three-piece suit and a tie . . .”
His spider senses tingled, warning him that something was wrong. Or maybe it was the scowl on his fake fiancée’s face. “If you don’t like Elvis . . .”
“Are you kidding?” Daisy walked over to the whiteboard and picked up a marker. “We’re not going to Vegas. We need a plan for this whole thing.”
“I don’t do plans.”
“Well you’re going to do one now because otherwise you won’t have your marriage of convenience.” She turned to the board, giving him perfect view of her lush behind. His thoughts immediately went somewhere the thoughts of a fake fiancé shouldn’t go, a small indication that this was going to be harder than it looked—in more ways than one.
“We can’t just jump into a marriage,” she said as she wrote on the board. “It won’t be believable. We’ll have to plan out some dates to legitimize our relationship before the wedding. We’ll need to be seen together by friends and family, and we’ll need photographic evidence we’ve been together.” She turned around and pointed to the board. “This is what we need.”
Liam read the heading and laughed. “A dating plan? I don’t plan dates, sweetheart. I go where the wind takes me.”
“When Orson and I used to go out with friends, we’d talk about restaurants we’d been to, or an interesting documentary we’d watched on Netflix, or an art exhibition we’d seen, maybe an energetic walk along the coast. Those are the stories that make a relationship sound real.”
Liam faked a yawn. “Orson sounds like a boring guy.”
“He was easy to be with. We didn’t have to talk much.”
“My kind of relationship.” He gave a sly smile.
Daisy raised an eyebrow. “If you are suggesting that all we did was have sex, you would be very wrong. We had an intellectual relationship. We saw thought-provoking films, and we discussed philosophy, religion, politics, programming issues . . .”
Liam dropped his head and then jerked it up again. “Sorry. I fell asleep after you said you and Orson never had sex.”
“I didn’t say . . .” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing. “It’s none of your business.”
“I’m your fiancé. I think your sex life is very much my business. I need to know what kind of woman I’m marrying.”
“The kind that doesn’t kiss and tell,” she snapped.
Thoroughly enjoying her discomfort, he leaned back in his chair, hands crossed behind his head. “Who is a better kisser? Me or Orson?”
Daisy’s eyes widened and she froze, her hand hovering in midair. Liam remembered that look from the afternoons he’s spent at her house, when she’d been caught doing something wrong. Daisy couldn’t lie.
“I have my answer.” He puffed out his chest. “The old Murphy charm wins again.”
“That was the only kiss you’ll ever get from me,” she said firmly. “My feelings for you haven’t changed. This is a marriage in name only. That means no physical contact except for holding hands or a peck on the cheek for appearances.” She turned back to the whiteboard. “I’ll write that down so you don’t forget.” “I’m liking this plan less already,” Liam grumbled. “Write that down, too.”
Sara Desai has been a lawyer, radio DJ, marathon runner, historian, bouncer and librarian. She lives on Vancouver Island with her husband, kids and an assortment of forest creatures who think they are pets. Sara writes sexy romantic comedy and contemporary romance with a multicultural twist. When not laughing at her own jokes, Sara can be found eating nachos.
Budgets are an important first step in any project, and a book launch is just that, a project. Your budget will give you an idea of how much you need to make to recover your expenses, including paying yourself for your time, before you start to make a profit.
There are a few important things to budget for, and while this isn’t an all-inclusive list as every book is a little different, it will get you started on planning and thinking ahead for what you will need to cover and pay for until you start to see sales.
Budget for Your Time
Budgeting for your time is incredibly important. Your time is important, and you need to account for that. But how do you do that? There are a few things to keep in mind:
Your writing time. Everyone writes at a different speed. You need to figure out how fast you can write your book – or if you’re not sure, your best guess. You will also need to consider how long it will take to edit your book as well.
How much should you pay yourself? This is a much more personal question. If you are just starting your writing career, then you may want to look at yourself as an entry-level employee and shoot for around $15 an hour. If you are looking to replace your day-job with a full-time writing job, then look at how much you currently make per hour and go with that. This is how much you want to make an hour for your time, and while you should be reasonable, you can make this amount whatever your goals are.
Cover Design
We all say not to judge a book by its cover, and then we all promptly judge every book by its cover before we buy it. The cover is your book’s first impression, and you need to make a good one. It’s important to hire a good cover designer that will do your book justice and give you the first impression that fits your genre, age category, and important story elements. If you are talented enough to do this yourself, then make sure you account for your time doing so here.
Editing
There’s not much worse than finding a great story riddled with plot holes and grammatical errors. Hire a good editor! Hire two or three good editors! The more eyes on your project, the more errors and issues will be found that you can address before hitting the magical publish button.
There are three important types of editing that you should account for: substantive/content editing to address storyline consistency, timeline issues, and flow; copy/line editing that looks at style, meaning, grammar, and syntax. Some people will do a round of line edits followed by a line of copy edits, and some will choose to do them all at once – that’s your decision to make. Proofreading is the final stage. It’s the one last look to see if anything slipped through the cracks or changed throughout the process that needs to be addressed in the areas of spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
Formatting
There are two popular types of formatting, and while both produce nice, professional looking books, they do have their pros and cons. Hiring someone that uses a program like Vellum (or doing it yourself – remember to budget for your time) is a faster way to format your book, but you lose out on some of the really special visual elements as they come with preloaded options that cannot all be changed. Someone who does custom formatting in programs like Sigil, inDesign, and Affinity Publisher, can give you a lot of stylistic freedom to present your book exactly how you envision it.
Using something like Vellum is a great way to save some money on formatting. You need to decide if you want to have a more standard layout or something more unique – and budget accordingly. Custom formatting is going to be more expensive.
Promotional Graphics
Sometimes your cover artist can create a few promotional and advertising graphics for your release, and it never hurts to ask as they may offer a package for items like this that will be less expensive than hiring them out separately. If they do not, then you will want to budget for someone to make some images for social media platforms and newsletters that you can use.
Alternatively, you can do this yourself if you have some artistic flare in programs like Canva or BookBrush. But don’t sell these images short. In many cases these are the first images of your book a new reader will see as they scroll through their social media, so you want it to look professional and appealing. If you do this yourself, then again, make sure you budget for your time.
Advertising
There are tons of places to advertise your book – from Facebook and Amazon to newsletters and sidebars of high traffic sites. You will want to consider where your readers are and try to target them. You will want to decide how long you want to run Amazon and Facebook ads and how much you want your daily or total spend to be. If you choose to use website and newsletter ads, you will need to research what each place charges and make sure they are showing your book to readers that enjoy stories similar to yours.
Marketing
Marketing can cover a lot. Some authors choose to hire out a publicity/marketing company or hire an assistant to help organize and promote their books. This can cover early reviews, cover reveals, interviews, guest posts, and the list is almost endless. Make sure you budget enough money to either cover the time it will take to properly get your book out in front of people or find out how much it would cost to have someone help you do it.
Be Flexible
Budgets can be flexible! If you find out you over or underestimated an expense by a significant amount, then make sure you adjust your budget so you can look back and use similar figures for your next book. Your budget does not have to be an exact match of your actual expenses, but it should reasonably close.
I’ll be digging deeper into each of these topics of the next few weeks, so make sure you let me know below if you want to be notified of new posts!
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Title: The Electric Girl Author: Christine Hart Genre: Young Adult Science Fiction
Polly Michaels is trying to forget that her mom has cancer. She keeps busy at school and plods through a normal social life. Until a freak electrical storm and a unicorn appear in the orchard next to her house.
Sy’kai wakes on an orchard floor to the smell of rotting cherries and wet earth. She doesn’t know where she is—or what she is—but she knows something is hunting her.
Polly recruits her friends to find the mysterious creature she saw from her window while Sy’kai, a confused shape-shifting endling from another dimension tries to piece her mind back together. Once the human girls find Sy’kai (whom they nickname Psyche) the mystery unravels and the danger facing all of them comes into focus.
A gritty struggle ranges throughout the girls’ rural hometown and in the wild terrain around it. All while two questions hang over their heads. Can an alien deliver a miracle for a human mother? Can a group of teens defeat an interdimensional demon?
Polly crept softly downstairs and into the vaulted kitchen. In the window behind the double sink, her mom’s stained-glass butterfly reflected a glint of moonlight. Her gaze darted from the window to the sliding glass doors across the room, behind a small round oak table. A greasy takeout box and two plates of chicken bones on the counter—her mom’s only half-eaten—glistened in the faint light. She paused next to the table, gripped the padded back of a dining chair, and leaned toward the glass door. She peered out, across the backyard and into the orchard.
A large beacon of light flickered in the trees. It moved, as if floating. No, not floating—walking. The intense glow, marked by dark strips of trunk and branch, moved at a measured pace. She squinted, trying to make out an outline of . . . whatever it was that meandered through the trees.
It’s an animal. It has to be!
She lifted the latch on the sliding glass door and gently opened it. Chilly night air rushed in, smelling of ozone and the earth. Her flannel nightgown billowed in the breeze. She placed a bare foot on the smooth concrete of the patio. The cold was sharp and shot straight through Polly, causing her to gasp, but she forced herself to keep moving. She stepped all the way out and slid the door back into place, almost closing it but not quite.
The roving light in the orchard had grown larger. It was weaving between the dark rows of trees in the distance. The undulating pace of it . . . it wasn’t human. Whatever it was, it was moving—walking, she thought, but not on two legs.
Polly put one foot in front of the other, compelled by her need to know. She crossed the backyard, reaching the bumpy bare earth of the orchard floor. She steadied herself against a tree trunk as adrenaline raced through her veins. She leaned into the tree, hoping to conceal her figure without losing sight of the creature, whatever it was.
She waited, watching in both awe and terror as the glowing animal came closer. The creature made no sound at all. Polly watched, eyes trained on the glow itself, until finally she could make out a shape—a long, muscular torso flexed above four knobby legs. Pointed ears flickered.
It’s a horse! A white mare! Oh my god, she’s so bright.
The horse turned its head, flashing a spiraled horn—unmistakable against the dark branches around them.
NO WAY!
“Polly? Are you out there?” she heard her mom call. She turned to see her mom’s silhouette standing in the kitchen. Her mom flicked on a light, spilling yellow across the yard. Polly whipped around to see the unicorn again, but the orchard had grown dark, full of silent indigo trees.
Award-winning author Christine Hart lives on BC’s beautiful West Coast. She loves writing about places and spaces with rich history and visually fascinating elements as a backdrop for the surreal and spectacular.
Christine has an undergraduate degree in writing and literature, along with a professional background in communications and design. She is a member of the Federation of BC Writers and SF Canada.
When not writing, she breaks stuff and makes stuff – in that order – for the Etsy shop Sleepless Storyteller.
High off her success of playing matchmaker for both of her sons, lodge owner Ruby Cavanaugh decides to try her hand pairing other eligible singles–starting with her executive chef and her new event coordinator.
Party planner Claire Choate has a cheating boyfriend who also happens to be her boss. After visiting Oregon for her brother’s wedding–which didn’t even happen–Claire is offered a job that gets her out of LA for good. How can she pass up an opportunity like that?
Even though he has little time for a social life, executive chef Geoffrey Bere loves his job. After a past complication left him gun shy about workplace entanglements, he lives by a strict, “no dating co-workers” policy. But when Claire Choate arrives on the scene, he finds himself ready to break his own rule.
Will Ruby cement her reputation as matchmaker extraordinaire or will Claire and Geoffrey prove too much of a challenge for even her?
Find out in this deliciously fun third installment of Seven Brides for Seven Mothers!
There are so many ways to quit a job with flair. You can storm into your boss’s office and throw a hot cup of coffee on him (a potted plant would also work, but you might have a harder time claiming that was an accident); you could create a huge public scene so that onlookers would know what a reprehensible a-hole he is; or you could just stop working and wait and see how long it takes for him to notice you’re no longer doing your job.
I wish I’d channeled my mom’s feisty nature and taken one of those paths. Instead, I submitted my resignation through human resources along with the knowledge that I’d been offered a wonderful opportunity in the Pacific Northwest. I gave my two weeks’ notice at the same time I took my remaining two weeks of vacation time.
People don’t generally quit a dream job like mine—throwing launch parties for the biggest movie studio in the history of movie studios—to work at a lodge in rural Oregon. But of course, most people aren’t dating their boss only to discover he’s been cheating on them with up-and-coming starlets.
It’s not like I shouldn’t have seen it coming. Jack is the poster boy for Hollywood glamour. His socks are handwoven by Ecuadorian nuns, for heaven’s sake. His shoes are so bespoke, they’re practically sewn onto his feet.
For some reason, I thought my own star shone brightly enough to make me an equal in his eyes. My aunt is Tooty Jackson, seven-time country music award-winning singer of such hits as “Tie Me Up and Call Me Betty” and “His Expiration Date is Here.” You might be thinking, “so what if she has a famous aunt?” But my peripheral glow is much bigger than just Tooty. My mom writes all of Tooty’s songs and, wait for it, my brother is Romaine Choate. Yes, the rock god and lead singer of Turnip Garden.
I’m from music royalty and that counts in a place like Hollywood. At least it has up until now. I know how shallow that sounds, but in a town where everybody is somebody, it helps to use whatever clout you have to remain visible.
Standing in the middle of my walk-in closet, I wonder if I should bother taking my cocktail dresses. For all I know, working at the Willamette Valley Lodge might require planning hoedowns and rodeos. I’m going to work with my brother’s ex-fiancée, Tara Heinz, who is the pastry chef at the lodge. She used to be a supermodel, but she got tired of starving.
I was heartbroken when Tara and Romaine broke up. But Tara wanted a life out of the spotlight, which is not something she could have had being married to my brother. She’s currently dating the son of my new boss.
My phone rings with my mom’s signature ringtone, Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.” I hurry into my bedroom to pick it up. “Hey,” I greet after putting her on speaker.
“Hey yourself. When does the moving truck come?”
“Tomorrow morning. I’m not sure what all I should take.”
I hear fiddle strings being plucked in the background. She must be in her studio working on something for Tooty. “Why leave anything behind? Take it all!” she declares before breaking into a full riff like she’s battling the devil for territorial rights of Georgia.
“What if I don’t like it there? Then I’d be stuck with all my stuff.”
“What if all of your stuff makes it feel more like home and you wind up settling in faster that way?”
She may have a point.
“You sound happy that I’m leaving. Aren’t you going to miss me at all?” I ask desperately, feeling the need to know I matter.
“Yes and no,” she answers plainly. “I’ll miss knowing you’re only twenty miles away, but I’m only forty hours away from getting my pilot’s license, so pretty soon I’ll be able to fly to you anytime I want. I’ve already looked into it and I can land at the airport in Albany.”
“I’d rather you fly commercially,” I tell her for the millionth time. My mom is an enormously driven woman and can do anything she sets her mind to, but her piloting a small jet is something that scares the bejesus out of me. The potential headlines are too scary. “Sister of Tooty Jackson/Mother of Romaine Choate Flies into a Mountain!” “Sharon Choate Dead After Forgetting to Fill Her Plane Up with Gas!” The possibilities are endless and terrifying.
“Honey, life is for the living,” my mom interrupts my morbid thoughts. “You have to grab the world by the balls and shake it up every now and again.” My mom grew up in Tennessee before going to college in New England, where she met my dad. Though her southern accent is barely discernible anymore, she’s held onto her colorful verbiage like she’s clinging to a bungee cord after flinging herself off the side of the Grand Canyon. Which she has done.
“I’d prefer you left the world’s junk alone and stayed safe,” I tell her. “I’d like you to live long enough to meet your grandchildren.” Why did I say that?
“Don’t you go blaming your lack of procreating on me. By the time I was your age, I had three babies, all potty trained. I don’t know what’s slowing you kids down these days.”
“Tell my older siblings, please. Once they’ve done their duty by you, you can complain to me, but not until then.”
“Lutèce told me she’s looking into a sperm donor. What do you think about that?” my mom asks.
“I think it could be great or awful. I mean, if she uses a sperm bank, she has no idea what she’ll wind up with—’cause you know people lie like dogs. How many Harvard graduates are really out there selling their swimmers? “If she uses a friend,” I continue, “she could run into custody issues.” After her last boyfriend decided he wanted an open relationship—which included other men … for him—my sister declared the opposite sex more trouble than they’re worth. She’s currently taking a rather lengthy relationship sabbatical.
“I think she should ask Travis or Vince,” my mom decides. “You know, keep the musical talent alive in the next generation.”
“I’m pretty sure neither Travis Tritt nor Vince Gill would be interested. They already have families. Why would they want a baby, and by a woman that grew up calling them ‘uncle,’ no less? Ewww.”
“They’re family friends and they’re too old to want to start over, so Lu wouldn’t have to worry about custody.”
“Their wives might have something to say about that,” I remind her.
“Quit pooping on my parade, Claire. I’m a problem solver and I’m just trying to solve a problem here. I’d also like to keep your sister from birthing a child of questionable lineage.”
While wrapping my shoes in pillowcases to keep them from getting scuffed, I reply, “You mean, having a child with no musical talent, like me.” I don’t know which line I was standing in when they handed out the music genes, but I didn’t get any.
“You’re as capable as anyone,” my mom says. “You just never worked at it.”
I took as many piano lessons as my sister and while she came out of the experience something of a virtuoso, I can barely play “Chopsticks” without tying my fingers into knots. Then there’s Romaine, who has never picked up an instrument he couldn’t play. “Whatever,” I tell my mom. “I’m just saying that you should leave Lu’s future baby daddy up to her and not get involved.”
“Okay, then let’s talk about your future baby daddy.”
“Mom, Jack and I just broke up. Please let me mourn before asserting any motherly pressure.”
“Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say. I’m sure there’s a lovely man waiting for you in Oregon.”
Throwing my last pair of Louboutins into a giant box with the rest of my footwear, I declare, “Just be here tomorrow at noon, if you’re still planning on driving up with me.”
“I’ll be there with bells on, hon! Dad says he’s sorry he can’t come too, but he has to fly to DC for a meeting this week, then he’s off to somewhere he can’t talk about for two more weeks.” My dad is a building contractor for the government. Since most of his jobs are top-secret, we have no idea what those buildings really are. But let’s face it, in this family, unless he was designing a concert hall, no one really cares.
“Tell Dad I love him, and I totally understand. Maybe he can come up sometime in the spring.”
“I’ll fly him up myself!” my mom declares excitedly. Great, both of my parents dead in a plane crash.
“I’ve got to go, Mom. Goodwill is coming by in a couple of hours and I have to make sure I have everything that I’m not taking ready for them to pick up.” I’m totally lying. Goodwill comes the day after I leave and will take everything left in the driveway. I just really need some time with my thoughts right now.
The most pressing thought being, what in the world am I doing moving to Oregon?
Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.
Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.
She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.
Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.
Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.
I’m living my dream. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a rock star. And now here I am, about to start my first big tour, when she comes along.
Ariana.
From the second we meet, she’s all I can think about.Asking her to come on tour with me is easy. But she’s shy, insecure, and the paparazzi scare her. We live in two completely different worlds.
I love her and I know that she’s worth fighting for. The problem is, I’m not sure if love is enough.
Gabriel’s Album is the first book in the Cruise Control Heroes series. It’s the companion novel to The Album. Fall in love with Gabriel and Ariana all over again as Cruise Control embarks on their first world tour.
Our next song is “If I Were You,” which is a ballad Harrison wrote about Heather. I sing it to Ariana tonight, though, making my way to the middle of the stage, and I lock eyes with her as often as I can allow so that she knows I mean these words for her.
I see Heather lean over to Ariana and say something to her, then they both start laughing. I’m confused and make a note to ask her what was so funny later. Here I am, trying to be her romantic boyfriend, and she’s too busy giggling to be wooed by my gesture.
Ariana catches my gaze again and stops laughing at once, just beaming at me as I sing to her. I give up on looking around the crowd and sing to her for the rest of the song. The rest of the concert passes without incident. We’ve got all of the songs on Cards Have Been Dealt on the setlist tonight, along with some of our favorite classic rock covers. Sebastian insisted that we do “November Rain” by Guns N’ Roses. It’s his favorite song to play live, and whenever he’s given a choice, he will try and get us to play it.
As we’re coming off stage before the encore, we’re all running on a high, and he says, “Tonight was awesome; did you see the fans go mental when I did the guitar solo for ‘November Rain’?”
“Dude, you’re not Slash, and you never will be. You know that, right?” I give him a cheeky grin.
Sebastian rolls his eyes at me. “That’s fine because I’m better than Slash.”
“Sure, bro. If you say so,” Hayden scoffs.
The lights come back up, interrupting our conversation, and we go back onstage for the encore, which is the only song on Cards Have Been Dealt that we haven’t played tonight, and the crowd goes mad before we say goodbye for a final time.
As we wrap up the encore, Ariana and Heather stand and cheer and clap with the rest of the crowd. I smile at Ariana one last time before we head offstage.
“I’m cut that you guys don’t agree that I’m better than Slash,” Sebastian says, continuing our conversation from before the encore.
Hayden laughs and smirks at him. “It’s not that I don’t agree, per se. It’s just that I don’t think Slash would screw up the outro.”
“What can I say? I was distracted by this hot-as-shit fan in the front row. Hopefully, security will get her backstage for me.” Sebastian has his own smirk on his face when he says it.
Harrison shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Anyway, great show, guys.” I high-five him as Ariana walks up to me. I step forward, place my arms around her waist, and spin her around in circles, causing her to laugh.
Hi, I’m Sian Ceinwen and I live in Western Australia with my husband and two kids. I started writing this in the third person but it was just odd. A little bit about me, I’ve enjoyed writing all my life, getting the worlds and characters in my head down for other people to enjoy is my passion.
Writing a book wasn’t something I ever thought I could really do but inspired by a song, I aimed to do it. With a lot of coaxing from my friends for me to finish it so they could find out the ending.
I released Gabriel and Ariana’s story, The Album, on March 14th, 2020. Harrison and Heather’s story, The Wedding, came out on June 6th, 2020. Sebastian and Lita’s book, The Baby, was released on November 18th, 2020.
The first book in the companion series, Gabriel’s Album, is available for pre-order and will be released on March 14th, 2021. It’s Gabriel and Ariana’s story retold from Gabriel’s point of view.
I hope that you will fall in love with the Cruise Control world the same way that I have.
Jeremy Lewis has just returned from a year in Europe, ready to start college in Alabama and pursue his dream career in the National Hockey League. Other than boring school work, he’s eager to play hockey, hang out with his new teammates and maybe even rekindle an old flame when Chelsea Davis unexpectedly reappears in his life.
Life is looking pretty darn peachy.
But when his world is turned upside down by a tragic loss, merely surviving each day feels like an achievement. How can he get through college and keep his budding career on track when all he wants to do is drink and squander his parent’s fortune? Can he convince Chelsea he’s a changed man when he seems so intent on his own destruction?
Lasairiona McMaster writes sassy, classy and badassy women and strong, yet vulnerable men. She challenges reader’s expectations by openly dealing with mental health issues, often exploring tough-to-handle topics and ‘taboos’ and books with a whole lotta heart.
She can either be found enjoying a gin and lemonade by the Irish sea, or baking sweet treats in her kitchen while singing at the top of her lungs. When she’s ‘home’ in Texas, and isn’t eating fresh-popped popcorn while buying things she has absolutely no need for in Target, she can be found at Chuys eating her body weight in chips and queso and washing it down with a margarita swirl. She loves to make friends out of strangers.
Glitter: Yes, that’s my real name. Born stripper name, I know. I’ve been on my own since I was 14. When I tried to get a job with Salvations Bane MC at their strip club, Salvation’s Angels, their security saw right through my fake ID. Lucky for me, the club sent me to Beach Fit, their fitness club, until I turned 18. Now I work at Angels, and the crowd here loves me. Stryker’s still looking out for me. For some reason he thinks I’m a magnet for trouble. Now that I’ve got his full attention, I know what I want, and I’m going to prove him right.
Stryker: We try our best to keep things at the club legit. Last thing we need is an underage dancer attracting too much attention. OK, so she’s legal now, has been for nearly two years, but that girl’s everything this old man doesn’t need — and can’t afford. But there’s another club encroaching on our territory, setting up a BDSM club on the other side of town, as a front to run drugs. Now I’ve got word there’s even more going on at The Dark than drugs. I was right. And who do I find right in the middle of it but Glitter. Only, she’s not involved with the thugs at The Dark. She’s their prisoner — a sub who has no idea what it means to be a sub, but she thinks she wants to learn.
Challenge issued? Challenge ’effin accepted.
WARNING: This book contains scenes of an intense physical relationship between an older man and a younger woman, as well as extreme, graphic violence. These men aren’t angels and neither are the women. They love as hard as they fight. As always, you can expect a HEA with No Cheating.
Stryker maneuvered her so he lay between her legs, pressing his cock against her sex. He was still fully clothed, and she was naked as the day she was born. His hands slid around her back and he rolled over slowly, bringing her with him. His slid his hands up to grip her ass possessively. Glitter couldn’t help her moan, especially when he squeezed both cheeks, kneading gently.
“Yes,” she gasped when he slid his lips across her cheek and to her neck. “Oh, God!”
“Ain’t no saint, Glitter. And the things I’m gettin’ ready to do to you are beyond wicked. You ready?”
“So ready. So fucking ready.”
Stryker sat up, his arms once again wrapping around her tightly. She let her head fall back, giving him access to her breasts. Greedily, he pulled one tip into his mouth, sucking strongly before moving to the other. He growled around the nipple and slid his hands back to her ass, continuing to knead her tender flesh.
Glitter was desperate to get him naked. She needed this more than she’d ever needed anything in her life. Clawing at his shirt, she pulled it over his head as he chuckled at her impatience.
“Greedy little girl. Do you want me naked?”
“I do! Need you inside me, Stryker.”
Once his shirt was off, Glitter rubbed herself shamelessly over his naked skin. She released a long moan at the pleasure just pressing herself against his warm body caused. God, she loved this man! He shuddered beneath her touch as much as she did with his. His cock pressed against her naked cunt through his jeans, making him groan when it throbbed.
“Gonna be the death of me, woman.”
“Me? What about you? You still have too many clothes on!” He chuckled and laid her down on the bed before standing. She raised herself up on her elbows to watch as he shed his jeans and underwear. His cock sprang free, bobbing proudly in front of her. He grabbed it and pumped it lazily, never taking his eyes off her.
Romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of. Now, she breathes life into faeries, space hunters, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and a few just plane ole ordinary people. She loves to see the awkward, self-conscious band geek get the captain of the football team and make him beg for it.
