Archive for September, 2026

Temperature Rising By Joel Burcat ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 3, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, suspense, thriller
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TEMPERATURE RISING by Joel Burcat Banner

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TEMPERATURE RISING
by Joel Burcat
August 17 – September 11, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

 

A deadly secret. A dangerous game. How much is she willing to sacrifice to expose the truth?

Anna Freeman never expected a routine errand to change everything. But when the ambitious law student and environmental activist retrieves a harmless videotape on energy policy, she unknowingly steps into the heart of a ruthless conspiracy. Powerful lobbyists, corrupt politicians, and billion-dollar interests will do whatever it takes to keep their secrets buried—and now, Anna is in their crosshairs.

Before she realizes it, she’s pulled deep into the very system she once despised, embraced and seduced by those orchestrating the cover-up. They think she’s one of them. But Anna has other plans. Working undercover for The New York Times, she’s determined to expose the truth—no matter the cost. The only problem—she falls in love with the industry’s most trusted lobbyist.

With every step she takes, the danger intensifies. Lies mount. The deeper she infiltrates, the harder it becomes to save herself and her friends from the ultimate outcome. When the threats turn personal, Anna faces an impossible Will she risk everything—her career, her relationships, her friendships, even her life—to bring the truth to light? Or will she be silenced before she has the chance?

Temperature Rising is an electrifying political thriller packed with pulse-pounding suspense, forbidden romance, and high-stakes deception. As Anna races against time, one thing becomes clear—some secrets are worth killing for.

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Praise for Temperature Rising:

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“A timely and poignant thriller of political machinations, threats and lies. I enjoyed Temperature Rising, it heats up quickly and burns hot.” ~ Robert Dugoni, New York Times Bestselling Selling author

“Burcat’s sharp execution offers plenty of surprises. The timely boardroom intrigue offers plenty of thrills. An intriguing conspiracy tale that finds fresh energy in familiar power struggles.” ~ KIRKUS Reviews

“Original, deftly crafted, compelling, and a wild ride of a suspense thriller from start to finish.” ~ Jim Cox, Midwest Book Review

Book Details:

Genre: Political Suspense Thriller

Published by: Milford House Press Publication Date: June 16, 2026 Number of Pages: 289 ISBN: 979-8888193587

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Sunbury Press Bookstore

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Chapter 40

A familiar sound awoke Anna.

Click-click-click.

The sound floated through her head. It stopped. Then it began again.

Click-click-click.

Anna sat up with a start.

Silence. She went to the door and held her breath. Nothing. Just the humming and buzzing from the electrical systems. A clock ticking down the hall. Slowly, she tiptoed to Connor’s office. She stood behind a stack of file cabinets and looked. Dim light leaked under the door. Anna froze. Anna wanted to run away, but she slowly walked closer. It was dark. No steel balls clicking. The only light at this end of the floor was from the streetlights. She calmed herself as she realized that the streetlights cast a glow into the window near Donna Russell’s desk. She hoped that was the light she saw. “Mr. Connor?” Anna whispered. Silence. She lightly tapped on his door. “Mr. Connor?” she said more loudly. Quiet. Slowly, Anna tried the knob. It was locked, but not pulled shut all the way. She was sure it had been locked tightly when she tried it before. She pushed the door open. The room was dark, illuminated only by the streetlight from outside. The desk was empty except for Newton’s cradle. It swayed back and forth, the way it did as it was coming to rest. Conservation of momentum. Conservation of energy. Anna gasped. Why was it moving? “Mr. Connor?” she said more loudly. She looked around the office. No reply. She quickly looked behind Connor’s big leather chair. Nothing. “Mr. Heftig?” Silence. Slowly, Anna turned and looked behind the door. She felt a creeping sensation on her back. The fine hair on her neck stood up straight. Nothing. Slowly, she continued turning to survey the entire office. Then she jumped. The air conditioner clicked on and a woosh came through the vent. A mountain range of goosebumps rose on her bare arms. She looked at the desk. The Newton’s cradle was swaying in the breeze. She held her hand over the toy. The AC blew directly onto it. Just enough to make the balls click together quietly. They swayed in the breeze from the vent. Together. All five balls. Had this always been the case? Was the office so noisy during the day that she hadn’t noticed the quiet sound? Anna took a deep breath, backed out of the office, and pulled the door until it clicked shut. As she returned to her office, she glanced at the clock. It was 4:15. She was fifteen minutes late to meet Dread. “Oh crap.” Anna shot down the hallway to the freight elevator. It seemed to take forever to come to her floor. As the door closed she remembered something and stuck her hand into the narrow opening, pushing the rubberized safety bar and making the door open. She ran to room 2-Y and used her key to get back inside. She grabbed the beat up briefcase from the corner, the one with SOF stamped on the side, and ran back to the elevator. The elevator slowly descended to the basement. No matter how many times she pressed the button, it went at the same annoying speed. She worked her way through the maintenance room and placed the cardboard into position at the door. She put the briefcase in the corner on the loading dock. Then she hustled to L Street and looked up and down. No Dread. No people. Not even a taxi. The air was chilly and Anna regretted forgetting to put on her sweater, which was draped on her chair in her office. She walked up and down the street and didn’t see any sign of Dread anywhere. She looked at her watch; it was 4:20. “Damn. Damn. Damn.” Finally, a pair of headlights approached on L Street. The car was moving slowly. A big, dark green SUV, a Suburban with an extended back, pulled up and stopped. The driver wore a flannel shirt and had a beard. Anna thought she recognized him from the bar in New Jersey. He smiled pleasantly at her. Anna smiled at the man. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Anna. Sorry, I was late.” “Hey there, Anna. Call me Jack. Don’t matter to me, baby.” “Did it take you a while to get here?” “Hours. Been looking for you for a while.” “Sorry. I fell asleep. Are you ready to do this?” Anna said. “Never readier,” the man replied, smiling. He patted the passenger seat. “You can pull into the alley over there.” Anna pointed. She started to open the door. “Sure, if you say so.” The man craned his neck to see the alley. “Is that where it’s at?” “Yes. That’s where it’s at. Where’s Dread?” Anna asked, looking around. The man made a face. “I’m past dread, baby, unless you’re with the cops. What do you charge? I’m just looking for some quick head. I can give you twenty bucks. We can do it in the back of my Suburban or right here on the front seat. Whatever works for you.” Anna recoiled from the man. “Oh God,” she said. She hopped out and retreated to the nearest doorway. The man watched her through the open window. “Hey, come on, baby,” he called. “We can do it quick. I promise. I’ll give you twenty-five bucks.” Finally, he slowly moved on when another vehicle pulled up behind him and flashed its lights. A pickup truck. Anna waited in the darkened doorway until the window of the pickup opened. It was Dread. “Hey, Anna, hon, we thought maybe you gave us the wrong info when we talked. We were here at ten of. This is the third time we’ve circled around the block.” Anna opened the door and got inside. Her hands were shaking. “Calm down, hon. We got this. You look sick. Here, this will help.” Dread handed her a brown paper bag. Anna wondered what variety of alcohol Dread had in the bag. She hoped it was vodka. “You want a cookie?” Dread asked. “They’re chocolate chip. I baked them myself.” “You bake cookies?” Anna broke into a smile. “You got a problem wit’ that? Camden County’s junior baking champ in twelfth grade. I’ve got the blue ribbon at home to prove it.” Anna finally laughed and opened the bag, releasing the smell of brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate. The cookies were huge and smelled glorious. She took a piece of cookie from the bag. In fact, it was scrumptious. “Oh God Dread, these are yummy!” Dread smiled her smile and Anna directed her to the alley and told her to back in. Another pickup truck backed in behind them. “That’s Max,” Dread said, keeping her hands on the wheel and pointing with one finger. “One of my boys with the Devils. I borrowed this truck from another guy, and Max agreed to come down with me. We convoyed all the way here. Did I see you talking with someone in an SUV?” Anna nodded. “Yes. I thought it was one of your guys. It wasn’t. He thought I was a hooker.” Dread was twisted around her seat as she backed into the alley, and she put her foot on the brake and looked at Anna. “I can see that. A little skinny, maybe, to earn a good living. Not nearly enough meat up top. But most guys aren’t picky at 4 a.m. What did he offer you?” “Twenty bucks for a B.J.” “Twenty? At this time of night, poor horny dude was probably desperate. You should have held out for forty.” Dread cackled, a long drawn-out laugh. After a moment, Anna laughed too. They slowly backed into the alley, all the way to the dumpster. Anna hopped out first. As soon as her sneakers touched the ground, something didn’t seem right. She immediately went to the place where the documents had been hidden. They were gone. *** Excerpt from Temperature Rising by Joel Burcat. Copyright 2026 by Joel Burcat. Reproduced with permission from Joel Burcat. All rights reserved.

 

 

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About Author Joel Burcat:

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Joel Burcat

Joel Burcat is an award-winning novelist and retired environmental lawyer whose thrillers blend high-stakes suspense with real-world issues. He is the author of Drink to Every Beast, Amid Rage, Strange Fire, Reap the Wind, and Temperature Rising, as well as the historical novel Whiz Kid, co-written with his late father, David S. Burcat. His books have earned multiple honors, including Readers’ Favorite Gold and Silver Medals, a Kindle Book Reviews Semi-Finalist award, and recognition from PennWriters and the Next Generation Indie Book Awards (Finalist). Drawing on more than forty years of environmental law practice, Burcat now writes full-time from central Pennsylvania.

Catch Up With Joel Burcat:

JoelBurcat.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @JoelBurcat Instagram – @joelburcattheauthor Threads – @joelburcattheauthor X – @JoelBurcat Facebook – @JoelBurcatAuthor

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

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Dragon Descending By Jennifer Allis Provost~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 3, 2026 in Excerpt, Fantasy, Romance
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Dragon Descending

By Jennifer Allis Provost

 

(Fire and Claw, #2)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Dragons value family above all else—but when a dragon shifter can’t shift, how will he protect the ones he loves?

Lochlyn Blackmoor, the last dragon shifter in Alessia, has lost his ability to shift. Heartened by a prediction that he will shift again, Lochlyn retreats to Dragon Ridge with his beloved wife, Rosalie. They’re content to enjoy a quiet life, until they receive unsettling news from the capital city.

The king’s seer has been marked for death, all because she helped him free Rosalie’s sister from the king’s clutches.

Despite his current weakness, Lochlyn embarks on a mission to rescue the seer with his brother-in-law and spymaster in tow. Almost immediately, one of their few allies—Arthus Flameborn, Grand Master of the Order of the Phoenix, who also happens to be Rosalie’s grandfather—abandons them. As they run out of time and options, Lochlyn turns to a former foe for assistance: Basilisk, the same rogue shifter he freed from the Order’s dungeon, and nearly killed him.

Basilisk proves himself a worthy ally, and his vast knowledge Alessia’s royal family comes in handy more than once. As more of Basilisk’s past is revealed, Lochlyn learns Alessia’s darkest, most dangerous secret, information so deadly It could unravel everything he’s ever known. To make matters worse, the ruthless Grand Master wants to form a relationship with his granddaughter, Rosalie, and he doesn’t care who he hurts in the process—not even Rosalie.

And only a dragon can overpower the Grand Master.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Lochlyn Blackmoor hated waiting.

Yet it was all he’d done for months—waiting for blowback from Serpens about their daring rescue of Caterina and Curran. For news of the rampaging basilisk he and Curran had freed from the palace dungeons. Or for the Grand Master to appear in the courtyard demanding to see his family.

Waiting to be able to shift again.

Nothing happened.

Lochlyn set his hands on the balcony’s railing, and watched the early morning activity in the castle’s courtyard. While he appreciated the calm days and nights they’d enjoyed at Dragon Ridge, retribution was inevitable. He’d insulted the king, committed several acts of treason, and set the palace on fire. King Olivar wasn’t a forgiving man; he was more likely to take Lochlyn’s head and mount it on his wall.

Still. Nothing.

Perhaps Olivar was taking his time so Lochlyn would slowly descend into madness.

Laughter floated toward him, a bright sound that Lochlyn would know anywhere. He turned toward the gardens, and saw Rosalie walking with her sister, Caterina. They both carried baskets of flowers, but behind Rosalie’s basket was her rounded belly, and inside her belly was their child.

Their child’s birth was something else Lochlyn was waiting for, and for that he was most impatient of all.

He and Rosalie already had three adopted children, and he loved them and his nephew, Jonathan, dearly. Somehow, he found yet another measure of love in his heart for this child he’d yet to meet, a babe who would be a dragon, like him.

As the strongest of the Otherworldly creatures, Lochlyn’s own dragon blood meant the child would definitely take after him, but they wouldn’t know if the child would be able to shift until he was around a year old. While Lochlyn could attain both dragon and warrior forms, his eldest brother could only shift to warrior, and his middle brothers couldn’t shift at all.

Whether the child could shift or not didn’t matter to Lochlyn. Either way, he couldn’t wait to meet their baby. Before Rosalie fell pregnant, Lochlyn had been the last living dragon in Alessia. Now both his kind and his name would live on, thanks to his beautiful wife.

“Lochlyn,” Rosalie called from the courtyard, waving to get his attention as if he hadn’t already been entranced by her every move. “There were some daisies in bloom, and the birds spared us some blackberries.”

“And elderberries,” Caterina added, holding up her basket. “Madchen can make more of her famous wine.”

Lochlyn laughed softly; there were enough casks of Madchen’s elderberry wine in the castle’s cellar to get half of Alessia drunk. “Are you two coming in for lunch?”

Rosalie opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she said was drowned out by the thunder of a dozen hooves. Lochlyn looked toward the gate and saw three gigantic stags enter the courtyard. The central and largest stag approached Rosalie and bowed.

“Hello, Cervus,” Rosalie said as the stag’s antlers scraped the ground near her feet. “And you really don’t need to be so dramatic. Will you join us for lunch?”

Cervus raised his head, and after he glanced at the balcony, he and his two companions went toward the stables. Lochlyn watched them depart, then he returned his gaze to his wife. His leisurely afternoon with Rosalie would have to wait. As Lochlyn’s spymaster, Cervus had been in Serpens for the past three weeks, gathering information. For him to personally return to Dragon Ridge instead of sending one of his messengers, he must have learned something especially dire.

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About Author Jennifer Allis Provost:

Jennifer Allis Provost writes books about faeries, orcs and elves. Zombies, too. She grew up in the wilds of Western Massachusetts and had read every book in the local library by age twelve. (It was a small library.) An early love of mythology and folklore led to her romantic fantasy series, Fire and Claw, and her degree in environmental science helped shape her urban fantasy, Poison Garden. When she’s not writing about murderous plants or sexy dragon shifters she’s working on her MFA in Creative Nonfiction.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Newsletter

 

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Love Next Door By Eve Kasey & Melanie A. Smith ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 2, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Love Next Door: A ‘90s Anthem Duet

By Eve Kasey & Melanie A. Smith

 

Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

One volume, two steamy interconnected romances set in 1995 Seattle

Come to My Window
Hazel Bell has lost everything — her job, her apartment, and her future in Seattle. Now her whole world is a thrift-store wardrobe, a family of houseplants, and a stranger in the opposite window who knows exactly what to say.

They exchange notes instead of names. Confessions instead of introductions. And somehow, the man she’s never met becomes the one person she can’t live without.

Gideon Sarkis knows the truth would end them before they ever begin.

He knows exactly who Hazel is. But she doesn’t know him — or how badly he once hurt her. The more notes they write, the harder he falls. But with his obligations pressing in and her options disappearing, their time is running out.

Some windows are meant to be opened.

But some secrets can shatter everything.

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door
Ben Pedersen is a ghostwriter stuck crafting someone else’s thrillers when a misdelivered package introduces him to the mystery of unit 203 — and its elusive occupant, Heaven Lee.

Lee is a software engineer burning the candle at every possible end, helping build one of the first online bookstores. She doesn’t have time for nosy neighbors. She barely has time for sleep. But the guy upstairs keeps getting her mail, and he’s funny, patient, and her dog likes him more than the UPS guy. So maybe one coffee not-date won’t kill her.

The neighborly arrangement that follows becomes something neither of them planned. But Lee won’t admit what’s in the misdelivered packages, and Ben’s writer brain won’t let a mystery rest. When curiosity crosses a line, both must decide what matters more: protecting their secrets or fighting for what they’ve found.

Love Next Door is two warm, witty nostalgic love stories about the secrets we keep, the walls we build, and the people worth tearing them down for.

Goodreads / Purchase

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Hazel is parked in a chair in front of her window, arms around her knees as if she needs the extra support. Our gazes collide across the space between us. Even with the tiny smile she offers, she looks small and lonely, and it breaks my heart.

There is no note. Just her.

After a long moment in which we just share space, she unwinds her arms and turns to her kitchen table. Her hair falls across her face as she scribbles out a note. I watch as she tucks long locks behind her ear, and wish it’s my fingers instead.

Coffee shop? her note says. She’s drawn a steaming mug beside the words.

I nod.

And wait.

Her next note is unexpected. I saw you at the grocery store yesterday.

My stomach flips. Seriously? In the same building twice in as many days? I wonder how often that’s happened without our knowledge. Maybe we’ve been circling around each other for months, just out of reach.

And? She’d seen me and done nothing about it. Why?

A bit of her sparkle returns as she shares a small, sly smile. And I still think you’re incredibly handsome.

I chuckle softly, but I won’t let her slide. Talk to me, Picasso.

Her smile fades. Nodding, she turns her attention back to her art supplies. Her words against the glass are navy blue and stark. It’s been an invisible day. Ever feel invisible?

I don’t. My size and coloring make me stand out. I’ve never felt invisible, but I’ve never truly felt seen, either. Not until eye contact with my neighbor was all I had.

I shake my head before bending down to write the next note. I may not have seen you, but I see you. I make the last three words bold, going over the letters several times. Then I make a second sign. You shine, Hazel. Even in the dark.

Thank you, she doodles out, including leaves and buds around the letters. Then another. You have a way of helping me heal. A broken heart held together by stitches.

“Killing me, Picasso,” I breathe. That is the greatest compliment she can give me, especially knowing what I do.

You get me through the day, Hazel. Even before I knew you, you were the reason I smiled.

She puts her hand on her heart, and I swear I feel myself fall.

Smiling, Hazel writes another note and holds it up to the window. Do I get to know your name?

With those words, I hit the earth.

I refuse to let my panic show on my face. Thinking quickly, I scrawl out a desperate reply. If you’ve named all your plants, I know you’ve named me, too. What do you call me?

She visibly cringes, and heaves an exaggerated sigh I can see across the alley and holds her confession up to the window.

Fred.

I blink. As in Flintstone? Why?

Hazel is slow to reply, but I don’t mind because I have her pursed lips and another peek of her clavicle to focus on. Because you’re too sexy for your shirt.

It takes a few seconds to process her words. Then I burst out laughing, harder than I have in weeks. Not Flintstone, then. Right Said Fred. The guy with the truly obnoxious song.

Still chuckling, I glance down at my exposed abs, loving that she appreciates my hard work, loving even more that “too sexy” is how she thinks of me.

Despite the crazy day, despite the secret I’m holding in my heart, I make sure that Hazel knows that the feeling is mutual.

I let desire take over every part of me, slowly, like a trickle of light rain. I allow heat into my gaze. Leaning forward on the shelf, I let my muscles pop and eyes roam. I take her in as I share my more lascivious thoughts through body language.

For her, I strip myself bare, deeper than flesh. I stop hiding how I see her. And I drink down what I witness across the way.

A flower opening in the sun.

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About The Authors:

Eve Kasey writes for a design firm by day and reads (and writes!) indie romance novels by night. Her contemporary romances balance swoon and steam while aiming to teach readers something new. She loves romance for the hope the genre conveys as well as the amplification of the simple truth that everyone everywhere deserves a happily ever after – however that looks to them. Eve lives in and loves the Pacific Northwest.
Melanie A. Smith is an award-winning, international best-selling author of steamy romance with smart, self-sufficient heroines and strong, swoony book boyfriends with hearts of gold. A former engineer turned stay-at-home mom and author, when Melanie is not lost in the world of books you’ll find her spending time with her husband and son, crafting, or cross-stitching.

 

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Love Next Door: A ‘90s Anthem Duet Blitz

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Uprising By J. E. Rizzo ~ Blitz And Giveaway

Posted: September 1, 2026 in giveaways, historical romance
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Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology

 

Historical Fiction with Speculative and Romantic Elements

 

Date Published: 09-01-2026

Publisher: Literary Wanderlust

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England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal
village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man
responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange
abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship
with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster,
Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir
Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty
on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may
help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is
of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To
save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every
power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.

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About Author J. E. Rizzo

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 J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction,
and her work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The
Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine.
Rizzo won Manuscript Academy’s Agent Choice Award in 2024, and her
article Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to
Overturn Roe v. Wade won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing
Challenge.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample
opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career
in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog
walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons
through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing,
baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies.
She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants,
making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and
rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Blog

Goodreads

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BlueSky

 

 

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Silver Bells, Single Bed By Paula Dombrowiak ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 1, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Silver Bells, Single Bed

By Paula Dombrowiak

 

(Hollow Reign, #2)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

My bandmate’s little sister is off-limits.

Then a Christmas blizzard traps us together in Chicago with only one bed.

After months on tour, all I want is to get home for Christmas. Instead, a winter storm strands me in Chicago with Harper Beaumont, a rising ballet star with everything on the line, including the lead role in her company’s production of The Nutcracker.

With both our flights canceled and Harper watching her dream disappear, I do the one thing I absolutely shouldn’t do—convince her to experience the Christmas magic of Chicago.

Somewhere between sparkling lights, one forbidden kiss, and a snow-covered city, Harper stops being my bandmate’s little sister…

and becomes the woman I can’t stop wanting.

When the only hotel room left has one bed, resisting her becomes impossible, sspecially when she asks me to be her first.

One night with Harper is hot enough to melt the Christmas snow but when morning comes and my bandmate finds out I crossed the line with his sister…

I have to decide if I’m brave enough to risk everything for the woman I was never supposed to have.

Silver Bells, Single Bed is Book 2 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas—a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances that can be read in any order.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“So,” she says. “Small problem.”

I cannot fathom any problem bigger than the one that’s currently happening in my pants at the sight of her.

“I don’t have anything to sleep in.” She wiggles the bag helplessly. “I didn’t exactly pack for two overnights. Everything in here is dance clothes. I can sleep in this, I guess.” She shakes her head and sets the bag down on the chair.

Jesus fuck, the universe is loving me today.

“You can’t sleep in your clothes.”

“Well, I think sleeping naked is out of the question,” she says, and I swear she’s not as innocent as she seems.

I clear my throat. “That’s not…” I dig through my duffel bag until I find a Hollow Reign concert t-shirt and hold it out to her. “Here. You can sleep in this.”

She hesitates a beat.

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Her fingers brush mine, small and soft as she takes it and brings it up to her nose. “Smells like you,” she smiles and then disappears back into the bathroom.

Fuck, get yourself together, Rhodes.

What would Casey do if he knew I was in a hotel room with his little sister right now, and that she was wearing my t-shirt? I press my forehead against the cold glass window and try to think about anything—my drum kit, my mom’s tamales, the tempo count on the new single, anything that isn’t Harper Beaumont pulling her sweater off on the other side of that door.

And I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as she walks out of the bathroom wearing my shirt. Every coherent thought in my brain evaporates.

The neckline slips off one shoulder, and the hem hits the tops of her thighs, revealing soft, smooth legs. She pads over to her bag and stuffs her clothes inside.

“It’s a little big,” she says, pulling on the hem.

I swallow hard.

“Jesus, Harper,” I say, my voice rough. “Are you not wearing a bra?”

She looks down at herself, genuinely confused, then back up at me. “Of course not.” She shakes her head like that’s the stupidest question in the world. “It’s not comfortable to sleep in. Get over it.”

Get over it?

She says it the way another girl would say pass the salt. Like she has no idea what she’s doing to me. Like she hasn’t just rearranged the entire chemistry of the room by walking out of a bathroom in my shirt, her nipples visible through the material.

I scrub a hand down my face.

I grab a pillow off the bed and carry it to the armchair by the window. “I’ll take the chair. You take the bed.”

“Liam, that chair isn’t big enough for you to sleep in.”

“I’ll manage.”

She crosses to the bed and lies down on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching me with an expression I can’t read. The t-shirt rides up her thigh, and I swear to God I catch the edge of lace and the curve of her hip underneath before I have to physically drag my eyes off her.

I rearrange the pillow, trying to smash it into submission.

“Liam,” she says, getting my attention. She’s resting her cheek on her hand. Her hair is spilling across the white pillow, and she looks like a fucking wet dream. “Do you not feel safe in the bed with me?”

l

About Author Paula Dombrowiak:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

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Uprising By J. E. Rizzo ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 1, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, Historical
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Uprising

By J.E. Rizzo

 

(Fitzjohn Duology, #1)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Historical

England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster, Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Something shifts, like summer’s green leaves transforming to autumnal gold. Speaking with Geoff about my marriage hurts like I’d never expected, a deep ache. The moon thrums, and an owl, perched in a nearby tree, shifts as she searches for prey. My temples throb.

“It seemed…” he begins again. “It seemed he didn’t want to marry you, after you…” I glare and cross my arms before lifting my face. He continues: “I thought perhaps you could get out of it because…”

“Because of what?”

“Because, ye’re…”

“What, Geoff, what am I?”

His mouth opens like a fish above water, and he doesn’t bother to shut it. In the tree, the owl flaps her wings and leaps into the air.

“Ye’re…” The tips of Geoff’s fingers flutter. “Well, I don’t know what you are, Dandy. Ye’re just…yerself. And I thought—”

“You thought he wouldn’t want me?”

His face falls. “He’s not like you, Dandy. That’s all. He’s not a good man. I heard him talking, when it was just the men…”

He drops his eyes and his cheekbones redden.

Neither of us seems to know what to say next. After a full minute of silence, he lurches forward and grasps my shoulders, crushing me to his chest. “Blanche, just consider.”

I gasp and have to steady myself. But within seconds, tears come to my eyes, along with a calming release of tension. I grip his forearms, inhale his familiar scent. He’s always smelled of horses, with a hint of bread dough and sugar from the manor kitchens he’s constantly raiding. There’s something different tonight. I sniff. It’s crisp, yet soft. Evergreens in winter, covered with fresh snow.

He buries his nose in my hair. “You could refuse,” he says, voice a gentle rumble against my face, “and stay with yer mother. She’d be angry, yes, but she wouldn’t throw you out. They can’t drag you to the church. For a marriage to be real, you must consent.”

Consent. The word ripples through me. It makes me see that I want more, from Maman, from my father, but most of all from Geoff. I need something I can’t identify, something I can’t express.

“If I marry Thomas…” My muffled voice breaks. “It will make the duke happy. He’ll…” I tense, regretting my words.

“He’ll what?”

I can’t answer, can’t tell him that by marrying Sir Thomas, I hope to earn my father’s love. To replace…something.

The moon moves behind a cloud and the trees shift, branches releasing a shower of rain. Geoff drops one hand to the small of my back and lifts the other to my cheek. His palms are warm, and I slide my own to clench his upper arms. When my fingertips brush hardened muscles, I almost snatch my hands back. Before tonight, I still thought of Geoff as a child, the lanky villein who could ride any horse, no matter how fierce. Now…my mouth goes dry, but I can’t resist running my hands up the length of his arms, letting them rest on his shoulders. The skin beneath his tunic is damp with sweat.

Corded muscles tense and stretch beneath my fingers, sending little jolts through me. He stoops, chin brushing my temple.

I touch the notch of his throat with my fingertips. He freezes. Tiny curls of dark hair peek above his collar, tickling my fingers. He lets his face linger on mine, and I feel him inhale.

A pleasant warmth spreads through my belly, then down. Something’s happening, something I don’t understand. I should run, should leave. But I don’t. Another breeze drifts through the tree branches, and he pulls me closer, pressing me to him.

I feel him, all of him, from feet to chin, in a way I never have. A tingling, heavy warmth settles on me, and I feel Geoff’s own need pressing against my belly.

It should make me uncomfortable, but I find myself pressing back, wanting more. Wanting it all.

I’m not well-versed in what happens between a woman and a man—that’s one area of my education Maman neglected—but I’m not completely ignorant. I know Geoff and I stand on a cliff, gazing into a deep ravine. One more step, and we’ll both be lost.

I’m still touching his throat, suspended in our odd dance beneath the shuddering tree branches, when he bends further. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation of his stubbly chin against my face. He exhales, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Dandy…” he murmurs.

The owl swoops to snatch a mouse from the forest floor in sharp talons. Her screech is like a battle horn, ricocheting with painful deliberation in my skull, joined by the mouse’s squeal. My eyelids snap open and I step out of his embrace.

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About Author J. E. Rizzo:

J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction whose work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine. Additionally, her article, Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to Overturn Roe v. Wade, won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing Challenge. Rizzo’s debut novel, Uprising, Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology, is forthcoming from Literary Wanderlust, and tells the story of Blanche Fitzjohn, a fourteenth century neurodivergent woman whose perceived disabilities become superpowers during England’s peasant uprising of 1381.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing, baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies. She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants, making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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