Stop Me Michelle Jester
(Rue the Day Series, #1)
Publication date: February 1st 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary
After moving to a new city with her parents, Jeselle Parsons quickly found friends and a life full of money, power, and privilege. Even though her parents weren’t wealthy like the other kids’ parents, Jeselle felt lucky to be welcomed into the circle of friends, until she learned how costly that type of life could be. A life that would cost her everything.
For fifteen years, Jeselle, with the help of her friend Dennis, worked to ensure nothing would stand in the way of her revenge on the people who played a part in ruining her life.
All the years of planning, all the years of working, have all come down to this.
Her enemies will learn that revenge has never been so cold.
“What the hell is she wearing?” Dennis said with horror. Jeselle looked up to see Rose and Karli approaching the table. Rose had on a flouncy, overly stated, hot pink dress. The sleeves stood much taller than her shoulders in a fog of pink netting and the material jumped as she walked, which delighted Jeselle immensely.
Camilla openly choked on her gulp of wine, “That is awful.”
Dennis patted Camilla on her back, “Sister dear, if you are going to die, please go sit by someone else.”
“This is incredible,” Rose hurried the rest of the way to the table and took a seat.
“I love coming to them, too,” Karli said, leaning toward Rose as she seated herself. “I remember my first time, I thought it was a dream. But Jeselle actually has a purpose for it. They know she wouldn’t invite you if you weren’t important.”
“That’s true,” an older woman sitting next to Jeselle agreed, “but it does make me feel important too.” The woman giggled.
“I am really nervous, like what if I put my fork back in the wrong place or something?” Rose said as she lightly touched the fork on the table in front of her, and it made Jeselle smile.
“Here is a quick lesson for you,” Jeselle said, “My mother–”
“God rest her soul,” the woman sitting next to Jeselle said.
Jeselle looked at the woman and smiled again. Then she lifted a fork and shifted her attention back to Rose, “My mother told me something growing up that I have never forgotten. You won’t either.”
“Dear heavens, couldn’t you have given her this lesson at the office?” Dennis said condescendingly which, Jeselle noticed, caused Rose’s head to fall in embarrassment.
“Pick your head up, Rose,” Jeselle barked. Rose lifted her head. “Do not listen to him,” Jeselle used her calm voice, “He doesn’t know about real people, he’s been spoon fed his entire life. Don’t let people like Dennis, here,” she put a hand on his leg under the table and squeezed, “make you feel any less important than they are. Matter of fact, I’d say you are more important than those people.” Jeselle squeezed harder.
Rose’s eyes widened and she looked from Jeselle to Dennis and back again.
The lady sitting next to Jeselle laughed under her breath. Rose looked over at Karli, who wore a big smile on her face.
“Now, as I was saying, here is a basic lesson you’ll never forget. How many letters in the word left?”
“Fo- four,” Rose replied hesitantly.
“How many letters in fork?” Jeselle lifted the hand that held the fork slightly higher in the air.
“Four,” Rose replied more confidently.
“So, your fork goes to the left of the plate.” Jeselle placed the fork back to the left of her plate. “Now, how many letters in the word right?” Again, she lifted her hand, this time her right one.
“Five.”
“And how many in the word knife?” she lifted the spoon and knife together.
“Five.”
“And how many in spoon?”
“Five.”
Then your knife and spoon go to the right side of the plate. Jeselle set them back down. “In alphabetical order. Fork, knife, spoon.” Jeselle touched each one slightly as she named it. She perceived the moment that Rose grasped the information and she relaxed.
“That’s it? It’s that easy?”
“Well, for the basics, but before long I’ll have you able to set an eighteen-course dinner with ease.” Jeselle looked pointedly at Rose, “Anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or feel like you don’t fit in, is simply information and that you can learn. The more information you learn, the more you will be tempted to be like Dennis here. Don’t, it’s a trap. If someone is deliberately trying to make you feel like you don’t fit in,” she looked over at Dennis, “Well, that is simply arrogance.” Jeselle turned to Rose again, “And arrogance can be taken down, with only one piece of information. Do you understand, Rose?”
“I do. Thank you.”
The best part of the evening, Jeselle thought, was detecting that Rose really did understand.
Author Bio:
Michelle Jester lives in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with her husband, high school sweetheart and retired Master Sergeant. Together they have a son and daughter. She is a hopeless romantic and has been writing poems and stories for as long as she can remember.
One of her prize possessions is a bracelet with only a yellow, Rubber Duckie charm on it; which she wears every day to remind her to enjoy the fun and happy things of life!
Secrets That We Keep Linda Kage
Publication date: January 28th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Gracen Lowe has a new life theory:
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
Which is exactly why he decides not to tell his twin sister, Bella, that he’s accidentally falling for the woman she hates most, the very woman who allegedly cheated with Bella’s last boyfriend and broke them apart.
Bella might be his best friend and ultimate confidante, but she’d legit cut off his favorite body part if she knew which woman he’d been craving. So even if his theory’s totally whack, staying quiet will definitely keep him safer.
Except he feels so guilty about it all.
Meanwhile, Bella’s heating up the sheets with one of Gracen’s best friends, and she can’t seem to reveal that little detail to her brother either, due to—you know—reasons.
When the truth is exposed, all bets are off. Shattered secrets will either set everyone free or wreck their relationships forever.
Pointing, I growled, “You…” and I stepped into her house, slamming the door behind me. “Liar.”
Eyebrows lifting, she set her hands on her hips and glared back. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I charged. “I called you a liar.”
“I –”
“You said you wouldn’t freak out and start avoiding me. Well, where were you tonight?”
“I didn’t feel like—”
“Bullahit!”
“Oh my God. Will you stop interrupting me.”
“Sure. When you stop avoiding me.”
“I’m not—” This time, she cut herself off to glance skyward for assistance as she mumbled curses about me. Once she was calmer, she looked me in the eye. “I’m not avoiding you. The reason I didn’t go tonight had nothing to do with you whatsoever.”
I stepped closer to her, my eyes flaring. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
She gulped unsteadily—totally freaked out by my proximity—and then she jerked a step back.
I think that broke something inside me. She should never be too scared of getting close to me. It felt like the beginning of the end. I was going to lose her.
But once she had her space, she shot fire at me with her eyes, totally not intimidated at all. “Prove what?” she cried with a disbelieving snort. “That I didn’t go tonight because of—”
“Prove that you aren’t avoiding me,” I clarified.
She gurgled out an incredulous laugh. “How the hell does someone prove something like that?”
I shrugged. “Not my problem. Just get it done. Right now.”
Her eyes widened. “Right—”
“Now. Yes.”
“Right now?” she repeated, blinking at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I put my hand to my ear. “Is there an echo in here?” Then I glanced at the face of my watch. “Time’s ticking, baby doll.”
“Oh my God,” she exploded. She gave another dubious laugh. I couldn’t tell if she was getting a kick out of my stubbornness or if she was seriously annoyed by it. “You are such a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah,” I countered. “A pain in the ass that you’re avoiding.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This is getting ridiculous.” Darting her gaze around the room, probably looking for something heavy to hit me with, she groused, “I can’t believe you’re really making me do this.”
I yawned and reported, “Not convinced yet.”
“Oh, that’s it,” she snarled, fed up with my antics. Stepping close, she grabbed the front of my shirt. “You want to be convinced that I liked being with you, fine! I’ll convince you.”
I opened my mouth to tell her, no, I hadn’t mentioned anything about needing performance feedback. I just didn’t want her to hate me now. But she pulled me into her before I could say anything, and she plastered her mouth to mine.
Author Bio:
Linda writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact.
Published since 2010. Went through a 2-year writing correspondence class in children’s literature from The Institute of Children’s Literature. Then graduated with a Bachelors in Arts, English with an emphasis in creative fiction writing from Pittsburg State University.
Now she lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a cataloging library assistant.
Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion, character match Hagrid. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor…or Hulk (can’t decide). Justice League Team Flash. Arrow Team Stephen Amell. Stranger Things obsessed. Heard Laurel, not Yanny.
Started out reading with the Baby-Sitters Club. Then moved to Sandra Brown, Linda Howard, Julie Garwood, and LaVyrle Spencer in high school. Now all over the place with her romance reading tastes.
Bjorn Cursed N.J. Walters
(Forgotten Brotherhood #4)
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: January 18th 2021
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Lucifer is up to his old tricks, causing problems for the Forgotten Brotherhood. This time, he’s had a woman removed from the Norse afterlife and placed her right in the path of Bjorn Knutson. After the slaughter of his wife and family centuries ago, tortured and broken, Bjorn was cursed as the first Norse werewolf. Now he’s been tasked by Odin himself with killing the woman who escaped. Failure is not an option.
Before he can track her, he stumbles across a woman being accosted by three men in the middle of the night. Even though she’s human, he intervenes and is shocked to recognize the face of the one woman he could never kill — his wife Anja.
She’s also the one he’s hunting…and if he doesn’t kill her then both their lives are at stake.
He’d always had a sixth sense about such things. It was one of the reasons he’d been such a fierce warrior. “Where?”
“Two behind and at least one ahead.” Bjorn jerked his head to the left. “Across the street.”
She didn’t need him to point out which man he meant. Over six feet tall, he wore jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. He looked similar to the ones who’d accosted them earlier. “Do they all look alike?” she muttered. “Is it a requirement or something?”
Bjorn’s fingers tightened around hers, but he was smiling, his lips tilted up slightly, his eyes filled with laughter. He hadn’t forgotten for one second they were being stalked and hunted, but he’d always been good at living in the moment. It’s how they’d been raised, as much a part of them as their physical appearance.
Laugh when you could, cry when you needed, revel in the joys of life, fight for honor and glory, and die well.
“What can I do?” She would fight alongside her man, no matter what they faced.
“Stay close. When I tell you to run, you run.”
“Where are we going?” It bothered her that she had no idea where they were or where they were headed.
“My truck isn’t much farther. About four blocks up the road. When we get there, turn right. It’s the black one.” He rattled off some letters and numbers. “Crap, can you even read them?”
“Yes. I have some knowledge of this world. Not everything, but I understand much, including how to read the language.”
“Good. The truck will have a piece of metal on the back with those on it. Here are the keys.” He reached into his pocket and pulled them out. “Hit this button when you’re close.” He showed her which one. “That will unlock the doors. Get in, hit this other button, and wait for me. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Got it.” She gripped the keys and had her thumb near the button he’d showed her. Her heart was racing as they kept a fast steady gait. She wanted to run, but that was the wrong thing to do. Any animal would take that as a challenge, see her as prey and sprint after her. And these men were essentially animals in human flesh.
Werewolves? They were the stuff of myth and legend but, like the gods, were real. Their kind never came to Freya’s Hall. Odin was rumoured to have all sorts of beasts in Valhalla, but she’d never seen proof, as she’d been unable to leave. That had been part of her pledge to the goddess, which is what made her being here all the worse.
Her vow had been broken.
“Another one just ahead.”
“Should we detour?” She pulled her attention back to the present situation. Her immediate goal—protect her husband.
“That’s what they want. They’re trying to herd us down that street, which means there are likely more of them. We go straight. They’ll do nothing until we make the turn onto the quieter street. As soon as we do, you run. I’ll hold them off and be right behind you.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“I know.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. It was over far too soon. She licked her lips, wanting to savor his taste. It was familiar yet strangely new. Maybe because of all the years they’d missed. They were both different people than they’d been when they’d wed and started a family, shaped by their experiences. But one thing hadn’t changed. He was still a hunger in her blood.
He groaned. “Stop looking at me like that, woman. Now is not the time.”
She knew he was trying to lighten her spirits. Tension radiated from his big frame. He squeezed her hand. “Get ready, Anja. It’s just there on your right.” He kept his voice low. “As soon as we reach the corner, run hard and fast, and don’t look back.”
Author Bio:
Once upon a time N.J. had the idea that she would like to quit her job at the bookstore, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown, and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the bookstore and her hometown and settled in for another seven years.
One day she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first romance novel and life would never be the same.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks–all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
The Lost Princess R.G. Angel
Publication date: January 15th 2021
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
“The path to peace is full of wars just as the path of love is full of pain.”
Fay Newman is about to start college, a new chapter of her life—a way to reinvent the nature lover and unsociable introvert she has always been.
However, when she saves her roommate’s life in a way that no human could, she finds more than she bargained for when she is thrown in the midst of kingdoms’ wars, blood feuds, forbidden love, and forgotten promises.
With the fate of humanity hanging in the balance, Fay tries to navigate her new reality, with friends and foes being closer than she realizes. When nothing is as it seems, she doesn’t know who or what to trust until taking up the weapon to fight is all that’s left.
Any choices available to her will ultimately lead to sacrifices. Fay must figure out what she is ready to sacrifice—her heart, her soul, or even…her life.
“Fay, stop it” He let out with a sigh of weariness, reaching for me from across the table but I was out of reach. He rested his slander, delicate hand on the table. His fingers were long and his skin paled, unmarred by any blemish. It was hard to imagine these hands in the heat of passion fucking a woman as powerfully as he said.
I looked up and met his hypnotic eyes, looking at me with such wonder and a hint of something I couldn’t really decipher.
“I have time for you, always” He added with a small smile.
“Why?
“Because it’s you.” He replied so softly that it thawed a little of my irritation.
“You have to stop being mean.” I chided. “This is not okay,”
“But she was -”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter, she wanted to try her luck so what? It may not have been the most appropriate place but she didn’t do anything wrong and it didn’t warrant your reaction.”
“If you dislike me so much, why are you even bothering with me?” he asked coldly and even if his face looked hard, I didn’t miss the glass of hurt in his eyes.
“I don’t…dislike you.” I replied tentatively. It was true though, I didn’t. I let out a startled laugh. “God help me. I think I even like you.”
He arched his eyebrows, and I saw his tensed shoulder relax under his dressed shirt.
“I liked the caring, nice Gareth I see when you’re with me. But, I have a hard time with this version of Gareth – the dismissive, mean Gareth.” I cocked my head to the side. “I don’t like him very much and I have a hard time reconciling both sides of you.” I admitted truthfully.
He took a deep breath. “That’s fair. Please, stay.” And I could see yet again he was not the kind of man to ask for anything. He was demanding and this simple request mollified me a little more.
Author Bio:
R.G Angel is a trained lawyer, world traveler, coffee addict, cheese aficionado, avid book reviewer and blogger.
She considers herself as an ‘Eclectic romantic’ and wants to write romance in sub-genre she can think of.
When she is not busy doing all her lawyerly mayhem, and because she is living in rainy Britain, she mostly enjoys indoor activities such as reading, watching TV, playing with her crazy puppy and writing stories she hopes will make you dream.
If you want to know when R.G.’s next book will come out, or what signing she will be attending please follow her Facebook page.
The Winter Heals Marie McGrath
(Honey Cove, #2)
Publication date: January 12th 2021
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
It was almost impossible to heal when everyone was out to get you.
Shelby Rowe was stuck between two worlds—the one she wanted and the one everyone else wanted for her. As the daughter of a prominent family in Honey Cove, Shelby’s life was out of her control. Her friends, interests, and even her love life was controlled by others.
When a new girl moves to town, Shelby’s life was turned upside down as she gets a glimpse of what life could be like—no obligations, no pressure. As the Christmas break begins, Shelby is left stuck between what is expected and what she feels is right. Split in half, Shelby has to make decisions to correct her life and heal her spirit.
Will she allow others to control who she is? Or will she finally go out on her own?
Luke watched me as I eyed Priscilla and Tabitha from across the room. “Don’t panic, Shelby. You’re by far the most beautiful one in this ballroom tonight.”
“Thanks, Luke, but I’m not worried about what anyone else looks like.”
He nodded and smiled, but it didn’t quite make it to his eyes.
I probably wouldn’t have believed me either. I wasn’t fully lying, just wasn’t the entire truth. Priscilla had a chance to outdo me; it was just her insecurities that came back for her. If she had more confidence, people wouldn’t hate her as much for the nasty things she always inflicted on others. Although, I supposed someone else could say similar things to me. I certainly hadn’t always been the nicest one around. I had done plenty of cruel things, things I still was ashamed of, but I tried to change. That had to account for something, right?
Priscilla and Tabitha spotted me and strutted my way.
Luke tightened his grip around my arm and into his chest. Did he think I needed protecting?
Tabitha leaned forward to air-kiss my cheek. “Shelby, darling. You look fabulous.”
I reciprocated the gesture. “As do you. This color is stunning on you.”
She smiled and swished her dress against her ankles.
Priscilla’s eyebrow arched as she came closer for a hug. “Beautiful accessories, Shelby. It all really makes your eyes pop.”
I strained to smile, knowing anything they uttered about my appearance was merely a nod to social etiquette. It wasn’t genuine, at least not in the way I longed for a true compliment.
“Your mother outdid herself this year, Shelby,” Tabitha said.
“I’ll let her know you think so.”
Luke cleared his throat and nudged my side with his elbow.
“Sorry, ladies, how rude of me. You know Luke, obviously, but he’s my date.”
Luke grinned from ear to ear. “Ladies, you both look radiant this evening.”
They both curtsied.
“Well, we would love to stay and chat all night, but we must socialize with the guests. I’ll see you two later.”
I pulled Luke to stand at the second Christmas tree halfway between both exits.
Luke’s eyebrow rose. “Why did we walk away from them? We should be mingling with everyone.”
I snorted. “Please, Luke. I will mingle with the people who matter. Those two don’t matter. They will just gossip about anything they hear anyway, not worth our time.”
“Then who should we talk to, in your opinion? I think they matter to everyone else. If you aren’t flaunting me to your friends, what will people say?”
“They will have plenty to say, and we can discuss things with them when we are stuck at a table for dinner.”
“I suppose.” Luke moved his arm around me and hovered his right hand on the small of my back.
I bit the corner of my lip to avoid from shivering—or worse, cringing at his touch. It wasn’t awful, but it was more than I wish I had to endure.
“You know, you never told me if I looked dashing or not,” Luke said with a devilish grin.
I smiled. “You and I both know you do, especially with all of your matchy-matchy to my dress color.”
Luke feigned shock. “Is that a compliment from Shelby Rowe. Oh man. Alert Santa we’ll have a blizzard.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dramatic much?”
“Not at all. I only seem to get snarkiness from you.”
I shrugged. “Not always.”
“I apologize. You’re correct. I get snarky Shelby unless we’re pretending to be together. In which case, I get hushed-tone snarky Shelby.”
I giggled. “Is that so? How does one emanate snark in a hushed-tone kind of way?”
“I think you know how.”
I smiled and looked into his hazel eyes. Okay, so he could be charming when he wanted to.
“There it is.”
“There’s what?”
“A genuine smile.”
My father, with my mother in tow, strutted toward us. “Shelby and Luke, how splendid. You both look exquisite,” my father said. “Are you ready to meet a few people, Shelby?”
I followed my parents as Luke accompanied me. I straightened my frame and plastered a smile on my face. It was showtime.
An older couple stood to the side of the ballroom.
My father shook the older man’s hand and clapped his back. “Mr. Wyatt, this is my daughter Shelby and her date, Luke Warrington. Shelby, Mr. Wyatt is the head of sales at Rowe Industries.”
I curtsied as Luke shook the man’s hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wyatt,” I said.
“Hello again, sir,” Luke added.
My mother looked between us all but stayed silent. Her voice echoed in my head, “A true Rowe woman is seen but not heard. She makes her presence known but never overshadows the man she is with.”
Author Bio:
Marie McGrath lives in a small rural town in Maryland. She hopes to inspire others with her stories. Her favorite genres to read are YA Romance and Contemporary Fiction. She loves the color turquoise, tigers, and listening to music.
He’s her knight in shining armor. Only she’s no damsel in distress.
Wyatt
I’m a self-made billionaire with a soft spot for damsels in distress, so when I move to the quirky lakeside community of Summerdale, I immediately zero in on the woman I most want to…ahem, rescue. Only the stubborn woman refuses to cooperate.
Sydney
When Satan, aka Wyatt Winters, moves to town, I do my best to be welcoming. After all, I’m the owner of the historic restaurant and bar that he keeps showing up at, despite criticizing nearly everything about it. Deep breath. I might’ve lost my cool and made a rude gesture in his direction. And told him off. How was I to know he was considering investing in my place?
Did I mention I’m in debt up to my eyeballs and every bank has turned me down?
Still, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’d ever work with him. Or admit he fires me up in every way.
And then a snowstorm traps us together and—
I’m melting.
This romantic comedy stands alone with a swoonworthy happy-ever-after! No cliffhangers.
NOTE: A portion of Fetching’s book sales will go to Pets for Vets, a nonprofit that trains shelter dogs to be therapy companions for military veterans with PTSD.
Pleased that he finally said something positive about my place, I close the distance, stopping at his table. “Glad you’re enjoying them.”
He leans back in his chair. “Have you ever thought of upgrading the dinner menu?”
My temper flares, but I manage to keep a civil tone. “No. Locals love it.”
“Not saying it’s bad, just unoriginal. I mean, every meal comes with either French fries or baked potato. A new chef might bring some life to the place. Isn’t that what tonight’s fundraiser’s all about? Keeping this place open?” He taps the table. “With the right management, a better chef, this place has potential.”
I manage this place, and the chef is a family friend. I bare my teeth. “Seems you know a lot about the restaurant business.”
“Not at all. I just appreciate a good one.”
I jam my hands on my hips and glare at him. Obviously he thinks we’re a bad one! I’m so furious I can’t even speak.
He cocks his head. “Cindy, are you cross with me?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I snap. “Coming in here and insulting my place left and right! If you don’t like it, don’t come back.”
He arches a brow. “Since you own the place, maybe we could talk about some serious improvements. You don’t know what you don’t know, am I right?”
I bristle. “This place was my great-grandfather’s, passed down the generations, and now it’s mine.” I leave out that Drew is the one who actually inherited it and declared it a lost cause because of the debt dragging it down. I took it over rather than let him sell it. “It’s an institution in this town, and we’re doing just fine without your city snark. How dare you walk in here and spew your judgment over all of us!”
He smirks. “I don’t recall spewing.”
My heartbeat roars in my ears, anger clouding all good reason. I desperately want to smack that smirk off his face.
He gestures to his ale, which he barely touched. “I didn’t like this one. Could I get one of those local Connecticut ales you mentioned?”
I stare at his glass of ale. I want to throw it in his face and watch his shock as it drips down his beard, fancy sport coat, and dress shirt.
He chuckles. “That’s an evil look in your eye, Cindy. You’re thinking about dumping this drink on my head, aren’t you?”
How did he know? “Not at all,” I lie.
He leans close and smirks. “I dare you.”
Author Bio:
Kylie Gilmore is the USA Today bestselling author of the Unleashed Romance series, the Rourkes series, the Happy Endings Book Club series, the Clover Park series, and the Clover Park STUDS series. She writes humorous romance that makes you laugh, cry, and reach for a cold glass of water.
Kylie lives in New York with her family, two cats, and a nutso dog. When she’s not writing, reading hot romance, or dutifully taking notes at writing conferences, you can find her flexing her muscles all the way to the high cabinet for her secret chocolate stash.
Unplugged Sigal Ehrlich
(Unplugged, #1)
Publication date: March 10th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
An against-all-odds & forbidden rockstar romance
After surviving the long and excruciating recruitment process, I thought I would end up working for Madonna or the CIA at the very least.
Boy, was I wrong.
Even in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined what I was in for. What my heart was in for.
I couldn’t have possibly fathomed the lifestyle, the responsibility, how much it would take out of me, the inner battles, and mostly, the emotional whirlwind.
I could never have imagined, prepared myself for, or anticipated…
Him.
It was supposed to be a job. Just a temporary job. Just a few months. Just a short stop before the journey I was about to take to follow my dream.
It was supposed to be a lot of things…but not this.
Little did I know it would be the one event that would shape me, would change me, would bring on such a shift in the balance of my world.
Would bring…
Him.
Would bring…
Them.
Both.
Into my life.
*UNPLUGGED is the first part in a two-part series; it has a cliffhanger-ish ending.
I hold one of the monstrous fridge doors open, taking inventory of the profusion of goods on display. I twitch my lips, moving them from side to side, as I muse what can best serve as a natural sedative. I stoop slightly forward for the carton and stop dead. More precisely, I find myself being stopped by an iron grip. Instinctively, I suck in a breath as a firm arm slides to wrap around my waist. A warm, hard body presses against me in tandem to someone’s lips nuzzling me right below my ear. A momentary stupor enfolds me as a few things register concurrently. The prickly feel of the scruff on my neck, and the smell hovering near that is a mixture of part masculine, part alcohol. Heavy alcohol. The most tantalizing fact, though, would have to be that the body pressed against my back is very much naked, as I can distinctively feel every part of the firm torso through my thin, cotton tee.
Still utterly startled, I chance a hesitant glance at the strong arm embracing me. Suntanned and large, it could be easily mistaken for a canvas crowded with colorful, detailed illustrations. The other hand, the one not holding me firmly, is another art creation in the form of a human limb extended toward the OJ carton.
“Open that for me, babe,” a raspy, low voice demands. And I do. The carton is lifted above my shoulder, and right after a pause, it is set in my stunned hand. Lightly moist, cold lips, bordered by a prickly beard, kiss my neck next. “Come back to bed, babe,” says the utterly seductive voice. A light smack on the butt jolts me, and I’m left by myself. My heart is beating in my ears, and my lips part in shock. I swallow hard and slowly turn to see who just groped-spanked me. There’s so much to take in. The lion’s head tattoo covering the right shin, the dark hair messily knotted, the toned arms, the musical notes tattooed on the left shoulder blade. But one thing calls for my full attention. A delectable, as in an award-winning, butt.
Author Bio:
Sigal Ehrlich is a bestselling author of refreshing, fun, and sweet romance books. She loves books, cold weather, and the occasional bubbly drink. Living as an expat for most of her life, Sigal has been lucky enough to visit many exotic places and meet some unique people from all corners of the world, while experiencing the sweet triumphs and travails of trying to acclimate to new “homes.” Currently, Sigal calls the Czech Republic home where she lives with her husband and three kids.
O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales
Publication date: December 17th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance, Romance
A MASTERPIECE OF HOLIDAY STORYTELLING…
Enjoy this stunning holiday collection from some of your favorite Dragonblade Publishing authors in this collection of never-before published seasonal tales!
Imagine, if you will, that it is Christmas Eve.
The candles are guttered, one by one, and a hush falls over the parlor. The children have gone to bed, and a tall, gloriously decorated Christmas tree looms in the shadows of the hearth’s dying embers. A tattered copy of Charles Dickens’ masterwork, “A Christmas Carol” sits, cold and lonely, upon a table nearby.
A small gust of wind, hurling from the seam of an ill-fitting window, blows the cover open. The first chapter appears… “Marley’s Ghost”…
The clock on the wall chimes midnight.
Now, the magic happens.
From the gaily bedecked halls of Regency England to the cold and crisp air of the Scottish Highlands, and everything in between, enjoy the magic of a holiday collection that has drawn inspiration from Charles Dickens’ most beloved literary works. Where the ghosts of Christmas, the incandescent spirit of a tiny disabled boy, and the joy that is the very heart of the Christmas season come alive.
USA Today and Internationally bestselling authors bring you their version of a Dickens’-inspired holiday in O NIGHT DIVINE.
Twas the Executioner Knight Before Christmas by Kathryn Le Veque
A medieval version of the Ghost of Christmas Future…
No one survives an Executioner Knight and least of all, Maxton of Loxbeare. But when he married his wife and had children, three little girls right away, Maxton grew a heart. He became a devoted and dedicated father who loved his children dearly. But the Executioner Knight in him still lived. So after a very bad dream, Maxton sees that, for his daughters’ sake, he must change.
The Mackenzies are in mourning… none so much as their laird. Since the loss of his wife, leaving Callan to raise a young son alone, he believes he’s lost his chance at happiness. As his extended family gathers to celebrate the Yule together, they can do naught to raise his spirits… until a midnight visitor—of the ghostly variety—brings him hope for the future.
After a lifetime of secrets, scandal, and disappointment… Elizabeth doesn’t believe in happy endings, at least not for herself. But an unconventional nobleman, with the help of a novice Spirit of Christmas, may just change her mind…
She’s as determined to pursue him as he is to keep his distance. After a heartbreaking debacle, Thomas Sullivan decides to give up his roguish ways and considers the priesthood. Unfortunately, the beautiful arrival gives him second thoughts. Mary Asher is not sure why the handsome new driver tries to avoid her at all costs. After being told he follows her every move, Mary decides to test him.
Never Keep a Secret at Christmas by Maggi Andersen
’Tis not the season to be surreptitious…
Alice Dountry’s father has gout, and she must spend Christmas with her sister, Marian, Lady Belfries. Their neighbor, the gruff, bad-tempered Earl of Hawkinge, refuses Marian’s invitation to Christmas dinner.
While chatting with him over the garden wall, Alice suspects something deeper lies beneath his humbug opinion of Christmas. Hawkinge and his grandson, Hugh Gifford, are at odds. Alice writes to Hugh but must keep it a secret from her sister.
When the handsome Lord Gifford arrives, there is an immediate spark between them. But Lord Hawkinge is hardly welcoming, and now, Marian and her husband argue over the secret letter.
Miss Emma Sayle has enjoyed two London seasons and rejected many suitors. Her heart was given long ago to an exciting prince of the east, a man of another country and another faith. As Christmas approaches, she daydreams of what her life with him might have been – until his ghost walks out of the freezing fog. But is it the ghost of his past or her future?
Hyacinth Farthingale has known and loved Lord Innes Buchan since the day she was born. She is now in her debut season, and as Christmas approaches, it is high time this aloof and lonely lord realized his happiness depends on marrying her.
One boy abandoned by a greedy gambling father. Another boy watches his father slowly dying. A lasting friendship that will see them through the hard times—and beyond…
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Can two lonely boys draw strength from one another during a Yuletide season that only promises heartbreak? Learn more about Alexa Aston: https://alexaaston.com
A Thrill of Hope by Anna Markland
Foiling an attempt to assassinate Queen Victoria earns Parker a medal and royal gratitude. The lunatic’s bayonet plunged into his thigh leaves him with a pronounced limp and reassignment to a small constabulary. Particularly trying is having to spend Christmas Day with his
miserly uncle.
During her family’s Yuletide celebrations, Samantha discovers she doesn’t love her straitlaced fiancé. A bleak future looms large.
Neither realize that anarchists are plotting to blow up a newly-constructed railway bridge—although Parker might if he’d heed the mysterious warning voices he hears.
A tale of the eternal struggle between good and evil.
Years after her husband’s death, Lady Agatha Wendt has become a surly, cold-hearted miser, increasingly left to her own company. Childless and with little family, the wealthy widow fears
falling into poverty and spurns even the smallest gestures of Christmas giving. A determined spirit visits the wealthy widow and warns her change must happen.
Charles Bentley, her butler, sees goodness in her, and finds himself attracted to the real Agatha—despite knowing they could never be.
Can the spirit awaken Agatha to her real fears and help her to overcome them in time to realize the gift she has always wanted?
Miss Etta Rose Comden is desperate to protect her younger sister, Horatia, after the death of their father. When the heir—and Tia’s new guardian—finds out his ward is deaf, he makes plans to send her away and marry Etta. With no one to turn to, the sisters flee in the middle of the night.
Dr. Gus Wharren, disillusioned with his practice in London, retreats to his late grandmother’s estate. Instead of a much-needed respite, he finds two lovely females stranded along the road.
Two sisters on the run. A London physician who has given up on humanity. The spirit of a loving grandmother. The stage is set for a holiday full of coincidence, a little Christmas magic, and a happy ever after.
At the volatile age of seventeen, Percival Josiah Northcott storms out of Highfield Hall on Christmas Eve, vowing never to return. It is a vow supported solely by pride, which, as the old adage goes, generally comes before a fall.
Five years later, Percival has fallen about as low as a man can get. He secretly longs to return home, but pride and fear stand in his way. That is, until he’s visited by someone from his past, someone who gives him the courage to seek his family’s forgiveness.
But first, he must promise to complete a very special task.
In the lead up to Christmas, Captain Kit Hardacre is in London looking for his long-lost parents. After a disappointing initial search, he finds himself in the city alone. Bringing him out of his self-pity is a call to help in a search for a missing little boy. But which one of them is more lost?
When Kit finds Pip, he discovers a youngster with a remarkable talent for going directly into the heart of those he meets. After seeing Pip safely returned, Kit’s faith in family is restored and a kind word gives him the courage to continue his search.
Alex Hartmere, Duke of Frompton, has endured enough heartache to make any man bitter.
Having lost his wife and child in the war in Canada, he returns to England, only to inherit a dukedom from a father who dies in a scandalous duel soon afterwards.
Repairing to his family estate for Christmas, Alex finds his first love now widowed and penniless. Can a Christmas miracle, in the form of a crippled little girl, bring them the happiness which was once stripped away from them?
The dice have really been loaded against Mistress Julia Wentworth. Little wonder she no longer trusts a soul—except for the urchin she rescued from the poorhouse. Having fallen in love with—and been abandoned by—a murderous traitor, Julia’s been turned out by her family and left to scrape what living she can on the brutal London streets. When a goose strays into her yard, it looks as if she’ll at least have something to feast on at Christmas.
Exploding into her life in pursuit of his goose is Myall Farrar, a scarred nobleman who loathes his miserly father and can’t afford to lose the fowl for which he’s scrimped and saved all year.
Can there be any common ground between the mismatched Myall and Julia? Is there any hope of goodwill within their families? And—perhaps more importantly—will the goose prove itself worth saving from the butcher’s knife?
Alice and Ross Trelawney are enjoying a quiet Christmas in Cornwall, until their daughter Amelia strays onto the nearby estate of Mr. Scrimgeour, the infamous Beast of Boscarne. When Amelia comes home in tears after a terrifying encounter, Alice resolves to teach the Beast a lesson.
Haunted by his late wife’s ghost and taunted by the locals, Edward Scrimgeour hides away in his crumbling mansion. His peace is shattered when his neighbor’s hellion of a wife storms into his home on Christmas Eve. But she’s no ordinary trespasser. When events threaten to take a tragic turn, Edward is given a chance at salvation, showing that miracles can occur in the unlikeliest of places.
Rhona sent the love of her life away once, but now Frederick is back. He doesn’t care that she’s a housekeeper, and he’s a wounded soldier and the brother of a duke. For the three nights of Christmas, he’ll give her three gifts; wooden figures he carved for her in the long nights before his last battle. They represent their past, their present, and what they could have in the future. If she doesn’t accept his love this time, he’ll leave for good.
Captain Tait Mackenzie doesn’t regret a life of pirating, but it’s Christmas and he’s lonely. Thoughts of dying alone trouble him. What woman would settle for a life with a pirate lord?
If wishes and dreams were oceans and streams, she’d sail her way to happiness…
Ellie has always loved Tait, but he politely ignores her. She intends to change that with a little help from the North Star.
Can three pirate ghosts on Christmas Eve scare some sense into a Scottish rogue and make him see that the love he needs has been right in front of him all along?
The Flame Game R.J. Blain
(Magical Romantic Comedies, #12)
Publication date: November 24th 2020
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
Bailey and Quinn are back for one last action-filled adventure!
A corrupt police chief is on the loose, and it falls to Bailey and Quinn to put an end to him before he finds some way to weaponize the spreading rabies virus, create yet another batch of potent gorgon dust, and otherwise wreck Bailey’s happily ever after.
With a pair of orphaned gorgon whelps to care for, more animals she can shake a stick at, and her husband’s determination to make the world a perfect place for her, Bailey has her hands full. To protect everyone she loves, she must embrace her dubious role as the Calamity Queen and rain hell down on those who stand in her way.
The Flame Game is on.
Warning: this novel contains two fire-breathing unicorns on a napalm bender, action, adventure, chaos, mayhem, humor, and bodies. Proceed with caution.
The father I hadn’t met until this morning walked me down the aisle, but Quinn’s hands holding mine kept me from running in terror at so many people witnessing me marrying someone like him. I questioned everything about my odd life. Me, the Calamity Queen, marry him? It took a few moments to remember I’d already married him once. I’d asked that same question then, too. He’d laughed, and then he’d goaded me until I’d done what he wanted, which involved me marrying him.
Crazy man.
There’d been a bunch of witnesses to that courthouse madness, too, and I’d survived through it mostly unscathed. Most of the witnesses to our first wedding had been too busy brawling with each other to pay any attention to me signing the papers that gave Samuel Leviticus Quinn certain rights to me, but that didn’t matter.
Reminding myself his signature on the same papers meant I got rights to him did a good job of steadying my rattled nerves.
No matter how many times I failed to tell him properly, I loved him.
To endure so many people staring at me, all I needed to do was remember a few key things. After the vows came the food, after the food came a show of gorgons petrifying each other during a brawl, and after the brawling came the pampering in our suite, which would be devoid of children for at least twenty-four hours, courtesy of an assortment of parents and grandparents.
I needed a lot longer than twenty-four hours to come to terms with having two pairs of parents.
One set hated me.
The other, who I’d learned about just yesterday, loved me.
I needed a lot longer than twenty-four hours to adjust to my life’s new circumstances.
First, I needed to survive through my second wedding. Tomorrow, I would resume my quest to be the best mother possible for our pair of orphaned gorgon children, who would spend the rest of the day and most of tomorrow socializing with the other gorgons in attendance, most of whom were related to my husband in one way or another.
Staring at Quinn and refusing to acknowledge anyone else in the Venetian’s canals would help with that, at least until we made it to the food portion of our wedding day. Once the food came around, I didn’t care who watched me devour steak, steak, and even more steak.
The fire-breathing, meat-eating unicorn in me loved steak almost as much as I loved the man who’d turned my life upside down on me.
My husband made no effort to hide his amusement, and he squeezed my hands while we both ignored the minister, who did a pretty damned good job of impersonating Elvis while reading the scripted sermon. He went on and on about the responsibilities of married couples, husbands, wives, mothers, and fathers, along with the death-do-we-part stuff I doubted applied to us at all thanks to our mishmash of crazy relatives, most of whom were in attendance.
A few too many gods and goddesses for my comfort joined almost every damned cop in our precinct to witness us confess our love to each other. Or, at a minimum, blurt ‘I do’ in some horrifically embarrassing fashion.
I had trouble with the basics, and nothing had changed since I’d married my gorgon-incubus doohickey the first time.
“You can look somewhere other than me if you want,” Quinn whispered, leaning closer to me.
I debated stealing a kiss before the official kissing portion of the ceremony, although the dumb veil kept getting in my way. Quinn had already shunted the damned thing back, but it kept falling wherever it wanted, to the point I wanted to light it on fire.
Nobody had warned me how much of a pain in the ass wedding dresses could be. And the heels? The heels might do me in. What had I done to deserve the damned heels, especially with the asshole pair of parents uninvited from the ceremony? While inserting my heels into their asses would have made my day, having a pair of parents who actually wanted me trumped my petty desire for revenge.
Huh. Somehow, I’d grown up since meeting Quinn, although only a little.
I forced my attention back on my husband. “If I look anywhere other than at you, I will see them staring at me. You’re prettier than they are, and I absolutely refuse to be ashamed of this.”
A few months ago, I would have gone and cried in the bathroom had I said that where anyone might hear me.
The Elvis impersonator grinned. “He really is prettier than everyone else here. You’re a very lucky woman.”
Oops. I shrugged, but I also smiled. “It’s true. I can’t help it. He’s in a suit. He can’t wear dress uniforms at home. I get ideas. I am enjoying this while it lasts. Someone is going to take a picture of him in his suit, and I will end up being bribed for copies of the pictures. I’ll have to ration the pictures out. I make him late for work if he wears anything other than his normal uniform. He has to change at work.”
Well, maybe I couldn’t keep my blabbering mouth under control, but I could make people laugh. The entire audience had a field day with my runaway commentary, but beyond blushing over my nervous tendencies, I resisted the urge to dash for the door. If I bolted, Quinn would catch me, drag me back, and laugh about it for the rest of eternity.
It amazed me how much could change in such a short period of time. Six months ago, I’d been bitter, alone, tired, and hungry more often than not. I no longer worried about what I’d eat; if I skipped a meal, Quinn chased me down and hovered until I did what he wanted, which involved eating whatever offering he had brought for me.
Greasy fries and burgers showed up almost as often as healthier fare. He even tolerated me trying to shove fries down his throat, as he deserved to enjoy greasy goodness, too.
I had issues.
I had a lot fewer issues than six months ago.
I deserved a gold star and an entire bucket of napalm for how much progress I’d made.
Quinn chuckled, which captured my attention, and he stole a gentle kiss. “Don’t worry. I’m going to have as much trouble as you when I get you into a dress uniform.”
I loved my gorgon-incubus doohickey. “Serves you right, you freak.” Aw, damn it. There I went, calling my husband a freak on our second wedding day. “I’m blaming the absurd number of cops in this building for my inability to behave like a normal adult.”
The cops snickered, which helped mitigate most of my urge to run away and hide from my ability to thoroughly embarrass myself. Then again, if I did run away and hide, Quinn would cheat and use his body to lure me to our room. Running so he’d chase me tempted me, but I stood my ground for a rare change.
Sometime within a few hours, he would lure me to our room, and I would be rewarded for handling our second wedding with a little more grace than our first. Mostly. Maybe with less grace but properly dressed. I could work with properly dressed for our second wedding.
Author Bio:
RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.
Mercenary Bella Di Corte
(Gangsters of New York, #3)
Publication date: November 13th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
I had something to live for.
The moment I saw him, I knew.
His eyes would hypnotize.
His lips would speak the most beautiful promises.
His body? Made for pleasure.
But if Corrado Capitani thought that he could fool me into thinking he was a good man, he was wrong.
The moment I saw him, I knew the truth.
Those eyes hid his poisonous heart.
Those lips were vessels of deception.
That body? Made for inflicting pain.
He wasn’t sent from heaven. He was sent to drag me back to hell.
I had something to die for.
Alcina Parisi had a price on her head, and she’d eluded the best. She thought no one would ever find her, but I did. Everyone in our world called me Scorpio–the man who never let the enemy go. But she was a weapon, not an adversary, and I’d claimed her as mine.
Mercenary is the third of three books set in the savage world of the Gangsters of New York series.
Alcina took my chin in her hand. “He does not matter. Nothing else matters. But us. This moment.”
“You going to stay faithful to me for a hundred years?” I said to her. “When I’m locked behind bars and men like him are hovering around you constantly?”
“I will stay faithful to you until the day I die,” she said, squeezing my chin, coming down and giving me a kiss that was even more solidifying than a blood vow. “You have me forever, Corrado.”
“For every sunrise,” I said.
“For every sunset, too. You are my night, and I am your moon,” she said in Sicilian. “Something to live for. Something to die for. You are my body, and I am your heart. For as long as there is a breath in me.”
Author Bio:
Bella Di Corte has been writing romance for seven years, even longer if you count the stories in her head that were never written down, but she didn’t realize how much she enjoyed writing alphas until recently. Tough guys who walk the line between irredeemable and savable, and the strong women who force them to feel, inspire her to keep putting words to the page.
Apart from writing, Bella loves to spend time with her husband, daughter, and family. She also loves to read, listen to music, cook meals that were passed down to her, and take photographs. She mostly takes pictures of her family (when they let her) and her three dogs.
Bella grew up in New Orleans, a place she considers a creative playground.
She loves to connect with readers, so don’t hesitate to email her at belladicorte@gmail.com if you’d like to reach out.
