Posts Tagged ‘romance’

Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ Look What You Made Me Do By Summer Atkinson

Posted: October 7, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways, YA
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Look What You Made Me Do

By Summer Atkinson

 

Publication date: September 15th 2026
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

“An absorbing novel that personalizes the psychological twists and turns of abuse.”
—Kirkus Reviews

How far would you go to break a cycle before it breaks you?

Margot is no stranger to suffering. Such darkness feels familiar when you have a violent drunk for a dad and a single mom working multiple jobs just to stay afloat. But Margot yearns for more than these bleak circumstances.

When she falls for the golden boy of her small New England town, she thinks he will be her escape. But she is unprepared for how ugly twisted love can become. Breaking free isn’t easy, but unconditional friendship and untainted love spark a defiant hope that cannot be dimmed.

As the line between love and abuse blurs, Margot must face the stories she’s told herself about who she is and who she is becoming.

“Look What You Made Me Do is an emotionally unforgettable story that captures both the devastating impact of trauma and the extraordinary resilience of the human spirit. With authenticity and compassion, it explores the profound complexities of survival and the difficult choices trauma can demand. A powerful, deeply human novel that will stay with readers long after the final page.” —Elizabeth May, LCSW, Psychotherapist

“Look What You Made Me Do carefully examines the vast interior world of a young woman growing up around addiction and loss. From childlike observations on men and their power to the desires that come with budding adulthood, this book explores how we can experience trauma, survive it, change, and still find and connect deeply with others.” —Chole Williams, ChloeinLetters newsletter, Substack, and Instagram

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

I had forgotten how charming Old Port could be or had never noticed it amidst all my drama. Not the people, but the place itself. The centuries-worn stone walls that somehow still stood in the woods. The sound of the ocean in the distance. All the quiet comforts of a hometown and its nostalgic beauty that haunts you long after you’ve left.

I watched from the sidelines as the people I once considered peers repeated the same old circular paths, not noticing the furrows they were making in the process. I’d been one of them once, and I wanted to warn them but couldn’t find the words. Not that they would have listened.

There is something about those born on the coast. Those who grow up knowing the closest path to walk to the ocean and who do not know the feel of fresh air without the taste of salt that lingers in its wake. For them, summer is endless, if not in season, then in mentality.

Every day contained possibility, promising to be the one that wouldn’t end. That would change everything. That would make up for the threat of winter hanging in the storm clouds on a humid afternoon. I heard it in the lingering laughter and casual conversation of Old Port’s residents and thought that this easy enjoyment of the ordinary was possible for me too. But I also saw how those same people became too entangled in their comfortable lives, familiar relationships, and unquestioned world views to be willing, or perhaps even able, to consider what might be possible beyond the sheltered confines of Old Port.

So even as I began to appreciate the pleasure of simple enjoyments, I also felt the stir of what was possible for me in life, and I didn’t want to be lulled into complacency.

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About Author Summer Atkinson:

Summer Atkinson grew up in Connecticut and now lives in beautiful Colorado with her husband, Jackson, their dog, Bilbo Waggins, and cats Mr. Whiskers and Mosey. She has a bachelor’s degree in neuroscience and a master’s degree in public health, which she uses in her day job as a life science consultant. Her professional career has been particularly devoted to women’s health and reproductive justice. When not writing, she can often be found in the mountains, either hiking, backpacking, or snowboarding. Passionate about travel and the great outdoors, she catalogs her adventures on a travel blog and Instagram titled Out There Travels. Connect with Summer online via @summeratkinsonbooks on socials.

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows By Paula Dombrowiak

Posted: October 6, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows

By Paula Dombrowiak

 

(Hollow Reign, #3)
Publication date: October 6th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

He’s the uptight rockstar directing the music for my burlesque Christmas show, and driving the grumpy maestro to throw his sheet music is my favorite hobby.

Then we wake up married, and he can’t remember a single thing about our night together.

Theo Mercer is an arrogant control freak in rolled-up sleeves and glasses who thinks he can tame my headlining act. But on my stage, I call the shots. Beneath the falling stage snow, the friction between us is hot enough to burn the theater down.

When our accidental Vegas wedding explodes across the tabloids, Theo swallows his pride and drops to one knee to propose a holiday charade: play blissfully wedded—which means moving my insufferable new husband into my cramped studio apartment.

Forced proximity beneath the mistletoe turns our backstage feud into breathless passion, and behind closed doors, our fake marriage starts to feel dangerously real.

Except our vows have an expiration date. When the tinsel comes down on New Year’s, Theo has to leave.

He swears he’s coming back.

But I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, after a string of men who never kept their word. If I let down my walls only to get burned by my fake husband… I won’t survive the fall.

Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows is Book 3 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas, a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances. Each book can be read as a standalone and features a guaranteed happily ever after.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

In sleep, she looks almost angelic.

Which would be a lot more convincing if I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing she’s a complete and utter menace in sequins and red lipstick who has spent the last couple of weeks driving me insane. The star of the Christmas show who argues with me about every note I wrote for her number. The woman who loves to push my buttons like no one I’ve ever met before.

Mara Delaney.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Do not tell me I did what I think I did.

My stomach drops as I lift the edge of the sheet and look down. Finding myself still in my boxers should be reassuring, but the relief is fleeting, swallowed almost immediately by a deeper sense of dread.

I turn my head toward Mara. The sheet has slipped just enough to expose the curve of her bare shoulder. I pinch the edge of the sheet to lift it.

Please don’t let her be naked. Please don’t let her be naked.

Fuck, she’s naked.

I don’t remember how I got here. Last night is a haze of disconnected pieces, and everything that matters is missing.

I ease out of bed with the stealth of a military operative trying not to set off a bomb. My shirt is draped over a velvet armchair, and I pull it on before anything else because I need at least one layer of dignity between me and whatever the hell happened last night. One of my Vans sits near the bathroom door. I shove my foot into it and search for the other, getting a good look at Mara’s apartment in the process.

I run a hand through my hair and pull it back to stare at it before my brain catches up to what I’m seeing.

There’s a gold band on my ring finger. Not the kind that comes out of a gumball machine.

What the actual fuck?

My gaze snaps to Mara.

I lean over the bed to see Mara’s hand curled loosely around the sheet, dark red polish chipped at the edges.

The ring on her finger matches mine.

This has to be a joke. Some elaborate, deeply unfunny prank, and when I find Casey, I’m going to kill him slowly, because somehow he’s responsible.

There’s a marriage certificate on the nightstand next to my phone.

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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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Love And Other Cures For The Recently Undead By H.J. Ramsay ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: October 6, 2026 in apocalypse, Excerpt, giveaways, New Adult
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Love and Other Cures for the Recently Undead

By H.J. Ramsay

 

Publication date: October 6th 2026
Genres: New Adult, Post-Apocalyptic, Romance

CeCe Campbell wakes on the asphalt of a mall parking lot with two missing years and a body that no longer feels like her own. Infected with the Kill Virus on her 18th birthday, she’s among the first to be cured.

Rehabilitation teaches CeCe how to walk, how to speak, how to exist in a world rebuilding itself, but it cannot return what she lost. Her mother is dead. Her brother is missing. And the last memory before the dark is a bite she cannot escape.

When CeCe unexpectedly meets Derrick—the boy who infected her—she’s torn between anger and a strange, undeniable connection. Derrick doesn’t remember what he did. CeCe does, and the truth of that moment is something he’ll never get. Not when he already took everything from her.

But if there’s to be life after the cure, CeCe will have to unwind the past, face what happened the night that bound them together, and decide if love and forgiveness can heal wounds deeper than the ones left by the undead.

Love and Other Cures for the Recently Undead is a haunting post-apocalyptic love story about guilt, survival, and choosing connection in a world where nothing can be undone.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

CeCe opens her mouth to ask for a ride, but by the time she gets the words out, Savannah is already jumping into the van. Her aunt pulls away from the curb.

Derrick looks toward the van and then at CeCe. He smiles. It’s probably meant to be charming, but she finds nothing about him appealing.

He steps toward her.

Why did she insist on walking home? If her dad was here, she’d already be in his car. Now she has to find a way around Derrick. Or maybe she doesn’t. She could wait him out. He’ll have to leave eventually.

CeCe turns back to the school. Just as she’s about to reach for the door, it swings open and Olivia slithers out. They’re so close that CeCe can see every strand of Olivia’s bangs—and something underneath. A scar? Does that mean Olivia isn’t a Survivor? She’ll have to think about that later. Not now.

Olivia inches to the side. The moment she’s out of the way, CeCe lunges for the handle, but it shuts before she can grab it. She yanks. It doesn’t budge. The damn thing’s on auto-lock.

CeCe presses her forehead against the locked door. Did Olivia do that on purpose? Knowing it would leave her trapped out here? She senses Olivia’s stare crawling over her—and Derrick’s.

She can’t deal with this. Can’t deal with them. Her hand clamps around the latch, unable to move. She just wants to go home.

“Hi again,” she hears Derrick say from behind her.

She groans. “Are you going to be here every day?”

“Ah, she speaks. I wasn’t sure if, you know, there was something wrong with your voice.”

“I speak,” she snaps as she turns, half expecting to see Olivia standing beside him, but she’s already down the stairs, heading toward the same rumbling truck. At least that’s one problem solved.

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About Author HJ Ramsay:

HJ Ramsay holds an MFA in Creative Writing and is an award-winning author. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Gold Man Review, a West Coast literary journal, and has a background in Psychology and Criminal Justice with dual bachelor’s degrees. Passionate about storytelling that explores the human experience, she crafts narratives that blend emotion, imagination, and depth. When she’s not writing or editing, she enjoys diving into the worlds of speculative fiction and literary fiction alike.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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Stormy Night By May Wynn ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: October 6, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Stormy Night

By May Wynn

 

Publication date: March 20th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A spicy Novella! A short read, sensual seduction & second chance romance!

One explosive kiss!

Tripping over her own two feet at the restaurant and falling into the arms of a handsome blue-eyed stranger was the last thing on Marena’s plans for the evening.

She’s balancing single life, career, and family. Working on her laptop at the bar turns into a night of excitement when she meets sexy Hayden.

This was Hayden’s first night in town, new to the area for a business project.
A workaholic, he planned to focus on work, after stopping at the bar for a couple of drinks.

Rescuing a klutz from a fall was unexpected, but this gorgeous woman was a distraction he didn’t see coming.

Sitting at the bar an hour later; wine, flirting and laughing, had them both giddy, feeling like teenagers. They were taken aback at their instant chemistry.

A spontaneous kiss leaves his jaw wide open and his world rocked!

One big problem!

As Marena rode home, the lingering smile on her face slowly disappeared. She came to the sober realization that she didn’t know his name or phone number!!

What just happened?
This woman came into his life only a few hours ago, but the passion between them had rocked his world with just one kiss! Then it dawned on him, in horror, he didn’t know her name!

He couldn’t forget their explosive chemistry; How was he ever going to find this woman?

Would fate intervene and bring them together?
Will a stormy night of passion be in their future?
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*Perfect for readers who love a short read, sensual seduction & second chance romance!
Tropes:
Spicy Novella
Sensual Seduction
Second Chance at Love
Workplace Romance
Stormy Night Romance
Quick Romantic Read

Goodreads / Purchase

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Leaving the restroom, the loud ring of her cell phone made Marena jump. She pulled the phone out of her jean pocket. It was Rose. As she swung the restroom door open, she was looking down at her phone… not paying attention, she tripped over her own two feet. Her cell phone went flying and Marena felt herself stumbling… her body lunged forward and she was headed for a face-first fall to the floor.

Out of nowhere, a muscular arm from behind reached forward, wrapping across Marena’s stomach and waistline to prevent her from falling. Slowly she looked up at the stranger with an expression of relief and horror, as she realized she had a solid grip on his forearm. He easily held her weight and steadied her.

“Um, thank you. I’m so sorry,” she blubbered, as her face blushed with embarrassment.

“Are you alright?” The stranger looked down at her face and was startled to see striking green eyes staring back at him. Neither moved for a second, as she held his gaze.

“Yes, I’m just a klutz. My daughter was calling and I wasn’t paying attention to my footing,” she replied, as she looked into a pair of beautiful light blue eyes.

The man who had come to her aid stood about six feet tall, with a medium build. He was ruggedly handsome. His thick mane of dark brown hair, mixed with slight graying, had a messy look, the kind she’d love to run her hands through. The shadow of a brown-graying beard gave him a distinguished, sexy look. She guessed that he was approximately her age.

“Yes, you need to be more careful,” he said, as he looked around the floor and spotted her cell phone. His eyes took in the woman before him. She was a pretty woman, definitely easy on the eyes, but damn, what a klutz. Their eyes met briefly again, but she blinked and looked away, still blushing and embarrassed.

“And,” he paused slightly. “You’re welcome,” he said, with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he handed her the phone. He had an air of confidence about him that she found very attractive.

Her face flushed a warm pink, knowing he was amused. Their eyes locked again, but this time she held his gaze steadily, challenging him, with a slight tug of a smile. He held his breath and his pulse raced…he saw raw emotions in those gorgeous bright green eyes. It halted him in his tracks, mesmerized. The electricity between them sizzled in the air.

The sound of her cell phone rang loud, breaking the special moment between them. She shrugged apologetically and glanced at her phone.

He smiled wryly. In a flash, he was gone off to the men’s restroom.

Marena walked back to the bar, cell phone in hand.

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About Author May Wynn:

May Wynn writes contemporary romance novels known for their emotional depth, engaging characters, and a satisfying happily-ever-after. A lifelong reader, her passion for storytelling began early, inspired by a close mentor who introduced her to a wide range of authors and genres. Together, they shared their own version of a book club before book clubs were even a trend.

After a successful career in the corporate world, May turned her focus to writing, bringing her love of romance to the page. She is an enthusiastic world traveler. She and her husband share a love of culture, history, and adventure, having traveled to more than 60 countries together. She draws inspiration from the places she has visited, weaving them into the stories she creates.

May lives in Florida with her family, where she enjoys writing on her lanai with a latte in hand, surrounded by the beauty of nature.

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A Healing Heart By Freda Ann ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: October 5, 2026 in Excerpt, giveaways, Holidays, Romance
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A Healing Heart in Twinkle Falls

By Freda Ann

 

 

(A Twinkle Falls Novel, #7)
Publication date: October 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Nicole Holburg

After my military career with the Air Force’s Communications Squadron comes to a tragic ending, I head home to Twinkle Falls hoping to put my life back together.

With a failed relationship behind me, I won’t allow another man in my life since the last one nearly ended it.

Nick Rodriguez

I had my future planned out when I graduated from The Culinary Arts Academy in Switzerland. I’ll settle down with my childhood sweetheart in our home state of Hawaii, if she’d have me after years of lost communication.

As fate would have it, the only girl I’ve loved had married someone else.

When my best friend asks me to be his head chef at a prestigious inn in Twinkle Falls, I accept the offer. Building a new life in the small town where I went to high school leaves me feeling fulfilled.

Once my son comes to live with me, I’m soon reminded of what’s missing from this idyllic life… that one person who leaves me feeling complete. The problem is I have yet to meet her in this small town I’ve grown fond of.

Will these two have as much faith as the pastor does when he nudges Nicole to help Nick at the soup kitchen? Can the town busy bodies, who swoon over the man known as Jason Momoa’s doppelgänger, push Nick in the direction of his potential soulmate?

(Though this book is part of an ongoing series you should have no problem following Nicole and Nick’s storyline. If you’ve already read books 5 and 6 of the series, you’re more than likely familiar with this couple.)

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Wincing, I struggle to raise my puffy eyelids while feeling something cold beneath me. Rolling my head to the side I try taking in my surroundings. That’s when I get a glimpse of blood on the concrete under my twisted body.

Ahhh, what— I draw a ragged breath while trying to figure out what’s happening, but that’s when my world turns black.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a white sterile room full of machinery emitting various tones and a window with the blinds half closed. With fuzzy eyes I notice silver rails on each side of the bed I’m lying in. While blinking, glimpses of a nurse taking my vitals comes into view. When finished, she moves to the foot of the bed to type on a computer.

“Where… am I?” I ask attempting to focus on the room. I struggle to fully open my eyes, but only manage to see pieces of my surroundings.

Pain shoots through me as I try lifting my hand to my swollen eyes. Unable to bear the pain rushing through me, my arm drops on top of my right leg as tears sting my eyes.

“Try not to move, Nicole.” A mature and soothing voice approaches me from the foot of my bed. “You’re in the hospital on base. I’m told you were also here a few weeks ago. Can you tell me what happened this time?” The nurse inquires.

My brain feels jumbled, like I’m trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces, as I attempt to recall what could have put me in here.

Gently I shake my head staring at her while sobbing. “Why—” Unable to put words together I pause.

Breathing deep to calm myself isn’t easy, though I manage to take a few breaths before speaking slowly and softly. “Why can’t I… remember?”

“Oh, honey don’t be so hard on yourself.” She pats my arm. “In your condition you should thank God for being alive. If that knot on your head had been an inch closer to your temple, you wouldn’t be here.

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About Author Freda Ann:

Freda Ann is fondly known for her sweet/clean, HEA RomComs. Her loyal fans and reviewers have compared several of her books to Hallmark movies. Many have hit #1 in multiple categories after release.

She writes relatable, faith and family based love stories which include kids and adorable dogs. Her writing style appeals to people of all ages. Her books will take you on an emotional journey with likable characters, and dreamy settings you’ll wish you could visit.

After retiring from a career in the law enforcement field, Freda feels blessed to be able to write and self-publish her stories for everyone to read. She adores her large family, 5 children and 9 grandchildren, and hosts monthly family gatherings.

To hear about new releases, please follow her on Amazon and also on Goodreads.

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ Family Is Family By E.D. Hackett

Posted: October 1, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Family is Family

By E.D. Hackett

 

(A Blue Spruce Hills Novella)
Publication date: October 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

She’s living the dream, but it’s not her own. Can this devoted divorcee pave her own path despite her irresponsible ex?

Violet McFadden is a helper at heart. Tired from co-parenting four teenage girls and co-owning a bookstore with their disorganized father, this dedicated forty-five-year-old can’t seem to get five minutes to herself. And she’s worried when her rent skyrockets, fearing their struggling business is doomed.

An upcoming Thanksgiving 5k road race may temporarily save the store, but the conscientious shopkeeper knows deep down that she’d rather be teaching children than managing the shop. As time marches on, an unexpected snowstorm, urgent teenage fires, and her own overprotective motherly drive keep her firmly rooted in the past.

Will Violet keep only her former spouse’s dream alive, or will she choose herself and her true calling?

Family is Family is a heart-warming standalone piece of the multi-author women’s fiction Blue Spruce Hills Novella Series. If you enjoy characters who are never too old to start over, complex families, and tight-knit communities, then you’ll adore E.D. Hackett’s charming story.

Buy Family is Family to rekindle soul-inspiring goals today!

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

At five o’clock, I closed the shop to dash to Ivy’s scrimmage. When I arrived, I found Reid surrounded by two of our four daughters. Forcing my most enthusiastic smile, I climbed over familiar faces, settling between my seventeen-year-old daughter, Willow, and my twelve-year-old daughter, Daisy.

Reid gave a small smile and a slight wave before scooting closer to Daisy to make room for my large satchel.

“You missed it, Mom,” Willow said. My eldest tilted closer, her long strawberry-blonde hair hanging to her elbows, framing the freckles dotting her makeup-free cheeks.

I leaned forward, keeping my eyes on Ivy. “Missed what?”

“She opened the game with a three-pointer.”

My stomach dropped. I should have been there, and I knew she knew I wasn’t. My thoughts moved to Reid and how he had put us in this situation with his wanting a divorce, but still wanting me to help with the store. He was the one who had wanted out and needed a change, yet here I was, missing out on another important moment in my daughter’s life.

I glowered at him, but he was on his feet, clapping for Ivy’s friend who had just hit a free throw.

I turned my smile on and waved to Ivy, who looked away with irritated eyes. Shoot. She definitely knows I wasn’t there.

“How was your day?” I asked Willow.

“Great. I had practice with Riley, and she thinks I’ll be ready for pit auditions for the musical.” Riley O’Connor had been teaching my girls piano for nearly a decade.

Willow, the most studious of the four, worried me with her need to overachieve. Maybe it was because we had left her in charge of her sisters when we reopened the business after Covid five years ago. She was twelve, and Daisy, the youngest, was just seven.

“That’s wonderful! Good luck with auditions. Next week?” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Yeah. Oh, and Riley asked if Daisy’s lesson could be rescheduled. I can’t remember the day.”

“Sure, I’ll call her.” I looked at Daisy, immersed in her coloring book, first outlining the images and then lightly shading the inside. The spitting image of her father, I recognized the Roman nose and always rounded eyebrows, emoting an element of surprise regardless of the situation.

Across the gym, Ivy guzzled water, and Mari, my fourteen-year-old, strolled across the backside of the opposite bleachers. “Where’s Mari going?”

“Probably to see Dillon.” Willow tipped her head as my eyes followed her to a tall, athletic-looking boy with a curly mop of acorn-hued hair.

“Who’s that? I haven’t heard that name before.” I watched my daughter return his hug, and her nose pressed into his shoulder.

Willow rolled her eyes. “Mom, where have you been? They’ve been talking for a while.”

The sight of Dillon’s rather full goatee prickled my skin, and I raised my eyebrows. “How old is he?”

“A junior. He’s in Ivy’s classes.”

Leaning back, I tried to get Reid’s attention, but he was absorbed in his phone screen, looking at who-knows-what.

“A junior?”

“Mom, he’s harmless.”

“Does he drive?”

“Not that I know of, but I don’t keep tabs on him.”

“He’s closer to your age than hers. She’s a freshman. He probably drives. I don’t like it.” I held up my hands to rephrase my sentiment. “I’m sure he’s a nice boy, but he’s too old for her.”

Willow shrugged. “Mom, he’s new to school this year. He’s probably figuring out where he fits in.”

I touched her leg and gazed into her eyes. “You would tell me if he wasn’t good for her, right?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, he’s in honors classes and plays varsity soccer. Ivy and I have done our research. He’s harmless. Nothing is going on between them. They’re just talking.”

I rolled my shoulders, slightly releasing all the tension from the day as I watched Mari walk toward us. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t jump to conclusions when I didn’t have all the info, and I needed Reid and me to be on the same page.

Knowing him, with his carefree decision-making skills and impulsivity, he probably hadn’t even noticed this man-boy with our daughter.

He needed to pay attention, or we might find ourselves in a sticky situation with Mari and her social life in the future.

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About Author E.D. Hackett:

E.D. Hackett is an only child who always wanted a sister. You’ll find themes of sisters and mother-daughter relationships in almost all her novels, where she concocts complex relationships wrapped in forgiveness. Edy lives in New England, where the beaches, lobsters, and quirky cafes are characters of their own.

She has two children (three if you count the dog), and in her spare time, she dreams about living in Ireland.

Edy is an Enneagram Two (The Helper) or maybe a 5 (The Investigator) and is growing a book coaching side hustle (The Story Keeper Book Coach) to help aspiring authors navigate the indie publishing world.

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One Night Band Stand By Julia Kent ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 30, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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One Night Band Stand

By Julia Kent

 

(Get What You Need, #2)
Publication date: September 30th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Who accidentally has a one-night stand with her alumni band director?

Yep. Me.

I know what you’re thinking. Whoops! I slipped on some valve oil and accidentally landed on his baton during a rousing chorus of Stars and Stripes Forever.

That’s not quite how it went.

But the alumni band director is really, really skilled with that baton, if you know what I mean.

So what am I supposed to do now, as I walk into the morning’s rehearsal — three feet from the podium because of course I play piccolo — and find the guy I ghosted on this morning … right there, smiling at me like he remembers exactly what tempo I prefer?

He’s perfect. Too perfect.

He’s a widowed dad of two adorable little kids that — oh, by the way — he forgot to mention.

But I also haven’t mentioned the seventeen-year-old I live with, either. He’s not my boyfriend. I’m his guardian. He’s autistic and non-speaking, and he’s been my whole world since I was nineteen.

I want Mr. Band Director. He wants me. Nothing — not the secrecy, not the awkwardness, not the 500 miles between his life and mine — will make this chemistry stop.

Except for three pesky little things: the secrets we’re hiding from each other. Three very human secrets.

I’ve never felt so seen before. He gets me. I get him. But we’re buried in responsibilities and loyalties that get in the way. When I’m with him, I can play. Really play.

And not just music.

He can’t quit his job and move his kids to be close to me. I can’t uproot a fragile teen who needs round-the-clock care and is still mourning his parents. The odds are stacked against us.

But who ever let that get in the way of love?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

There are naked boobies in my bed, and they are not my wife’s.

What have I done?

My body goes cold and hot, skin pulsing against the sheets, blood pooled in morning wood. Wood that rests against my not-wife’s thigh. My eyes widen. My beard itches around my lips, lips that feel raw, my tongue a bit overused at the tip, like I just had sex with –

I cheated on my wife.

I cheated on my wife.

My beautiful, amazing wife who tells me she loves me ten times a day. Who laughs at my stupid music jokes. Who smiles like she’s actually interested in my high school band stories. Who —

Told. Laughed. Smiled.

Past tense, Jared. Two years, two months, four days of past tense.

— is dead.

Stacey’s dead. Right. Damn it.

I close my eyes, jaw tight, inhaling slowly, my nose cold inside, the physicality of it breaking through panic. The unreality of her death still shatters my sleepy self every morning like a car alarm I can’t fully disable, one blissful second of not-knowing, then the loop of grief.

That sour taste. The shock. The anger. The pain, physical and emotional.

Stacey is dead.

Which means I’m not cheating. I’m just in a hotel room with a very naked, incredibly alluring woman who isn’t my wife.

So then who the hell is this in my arms?

She’s cute. Warm. Soft.

So soft.

The arm Ms. Not-Wife is sleeping on went numb in my sleep. I haven’t moved it one millimeter, shoulder locked, neck doing that isometric thing as her weight presses into my bicep. It should be uncomfortable. It isn’t, and somewhere in sleep my hand found her arm and started stroking it. I just realized it’s doing this. My hand likes her.

My cock sure does, too.

I really like the softness. Naked softness takes the liking up several notches.

Another clue this isn’t my wife: I’m on the bathroom side of the bed.

Ms. Not-Wife’s hair is blonde and straight, spread across my arm. Stacey’s was darker, curly, and Stacey had to pee constantly, especially after giving birth to our oldest, Molly. Every apartment, every house, every hotel, every guest room, every beach rental for nineteen years: Stacey got the bathroom side.

The woman in my bed is not Stacey.

The HVAC unit hums on an E-flat that’s four cents flat. Not concert E-flat. An E-flat that vibrates like it’s committing a felony against freon. It is the most passive-aggressive sound in Indiana, and that’s saying a lot, because have you ever gone to a church picnic in this state? Those ladies are lowkey brutal.

The print above the bed is a seashore painting, a Thomas Kincade knockoff, something a lifelong southern Indiana resident thought would evoke Cape Cod but instead makes me think Dungeons and Dragons on acid. It goes with the burnt-orange carpeting somehow. I half expect a Jello-O egg mold as part of the continental breakfast downstairs in the bar where I picked up… this woman.

I actually approached a woman at a hotel bar, and she chose to sleep with me.

Me.

Not-Wife’s hand is on my chest. She has short nails, no polish, the thumb hooked into the dip below my collarbone like she put it there on purpose. Her thumb knows what it’s doing, which is more than I can say for the rest of me. Her ribcage moves into my ribcage every four or five seconds and back out, long even breathing so constant I’ve started matching it without meaning to.

Waking her up means having to talk, and I don’t know what you say after you pick up a woman in a hotel bar and now you’re both naked under the sheets, vulnerable and freaking out a little, yet liking it.

A lot.

Not-Wife smells like vanilla and sex and the chemical-linen scent of every business hotel pillowcase put into circulation since 1994. The bar lighting was bad last night, so I’m seeing things this morning I couldn’t see then: a mole on her cheek. Long dark lashes against it. A dimple at the corner of her mouth that’s there even when she’s not smiling.

She’s gorgeous.

Morning-gorgeous, unadulterated. Her face was not-yet-defined last night, just a woman who was blonde and smiling under bad bar lighting. She has lips I kissed last night, a tongue that danced with mine and tasted so good, and her breasts are smashed against my side like little pets curled up, seeking warmth.

I have forgotten how nice this is.

A person breathing into your neck. A warm softness against your body. Your bare skin against theirs. I took this for granted for too many years, and once it was gone I felt the absence like a phantom limb.

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About Author Julia Kent:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2.5 million books, with 5 New York Times bestsellers and more than 23 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, Dutch, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

From single dads to cinnamon roll heroes to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband, three children, and a Havanese dog named Walter. She is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls (Walter gets a pass).

She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com

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Haunted Holiday By Lindsey Gray ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 29, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways, Holidays
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2

 

Haunted Holiday

By Lindsey Gray

 

(The Holiday Chronicles, #3)
Publication date: September 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance, Supernatural

Everyone in Clarkstown believes they know who killed firefighter Zane Gravenhurst.

His girlfriend, Jillian, sits behind bars, accused of leaving him to die after a rainy night ended in tragedy. The case is all but closed.

Only Zane’s younger sister, Molly, knows the truth isn’t buried because she can communicate with his ghost.

Molly needs help to get justice for her brother.

Her shy neighbor, whom she’s crushed on since high school, Duncan, comes to her aid.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Molly

“Molly! Wake up!”

Molly groaned and rolled over to check the red numbers on her bedside clock. She wanted to jump back into the dream she’d been having before the voice rudely awakened her. In that dream, her thoughts lingered on her neighbor, Duncan, the one with the scar etched across his ear. Something in the scene comforted her; she wished to slip back into that warm haze and forget all the chaos that surrounded her.

“It’s five am, Zane. I’m not making you breakfast this early.” Her older brother, Zane, tended to work odd hours as a firefighter, but Molly spent three days climbing out of the grip of the flu going around the high school where she taught theater. She had no desire to indulge her brother’s cravings.

“Molly Gravenhurst. Please wake up. We need to talk,” the new voice pleaded.

The voice of her grandmother, Dawn, reached her foggy brain. Her dead grandmother.

Molly jerked up in bed and focused on the two ghosts that stood at the end. The appearance of her grandmother didn’t surprise her. What her grandmother called her “second sight” made her capable of communication with earthbound spirits. Genuine shock and abject horror slammed into her when she saw her brother, Zane. The night before, he’d been alive and kicking.

“No,” Molly whispered in utter terror. A simple, horrifying truth struck her. If her brother were a ghost, then he was dead.

Molly could see ghosts, a gift she possessed since toddlerhood. Three years ago, when her grandmother died, she and Zane inherited her house and the care of their grandmother’s ghost. While he lived, Grandma Dawn’s ghost remained invisible to Zane. Now, a ghost himself, he could finally see her.

“I know this is a shock, Molly, but Zane needs you to pull yourself together.” Grandma Dawn’s tone snapped Molly out of her silence.

“Wha-wha-what happened, Zane?” Molly fisted her blanket while she tried to gather herself.

“Jillian dropped me off at Paddy’s. He wanted to continue the Halloween party back at his house. After Paddy and I walked into the garage, everything is blank. I appeared in the kitchen here, where I found Grandma.” Zane spoke with clinical precision, not an ounce of emotion. She understood the pain of death since she dealt with the pain ghosts experienced every day.

“Where’s Jillian?” Molly grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table. “I need to call her.”

“She’s asleep on the sofa.” Zane’s voice cracked at the end of his statement. “I just peeked for a second. I can’t go …I don’t …”

Grandma Dawn took Zane’s hand in hers in a gesture of comfort and compassion.

Molly struggled with what to do next. She’d barely adjusted to her grandmother’s death. How could she live without her brother’s hugs, his teasing slaps, or witnessing his love and devotion for Jillian?

“What do I need to do?” Grandma Dawn died in her sleep. She found her in the primary bedroom of the very house she lived in. Where was Zane’s body? If it were at Paddy’s house, Paddy would have called her by now? He was Zane’s best friend. He’d had her number since the day she got it thirteen years ago.

Before Zane or Grandma Dawn had a chance to answer, Jillian burst into Molly’s attic space.

“You’re awake. Thank God.” She burst into the room and threw herself onto Molly’s bed, her blonde hair pulled back into a crooked ponytail. “Zane hasn’t come home yet. It’s still pouring outside. Visibility is shit. What if he got in an accident? What if he and Paddy are in a ditch? What if he tried to walk home and got hit by a car? I’ve called him five times and texted him six times. He hasn’t responded.”

Jillian’s frantic questions made sense, but she couldn’t confirm anything because she didn’t know whether any of those possibilities were correct. Neither did either of the ghosts.

“Let’s think.” Molly pushed away the knowledge of her brother’s death and gathered her thoughts. “You all went to that big Halloween party downtown, right?”

“Yeah. Paddy invited a bunch of us over to his house, but I told Zane I needed sleep. My sinuses have been getting worse. I think I caught whatever you have.” Congestion clogged Jillian’s voice, and tears or illness left her eyes red and bloodshot. Molly’s heart sank. The same symptoms had stalked her for the past several days.

“You dropped him off at Paddy and Lucky’s house, then?”

Jillian nodded. “It started to rain a few minutes before I got here. Now it’s pouring.”

“Let’s call Paddy first. Who else came to the party?” Molly scrolled through her numbers in her contacts to find Paddy’s number.

“Barb Sterling and her husband, Rhett.” Jillian dialed the number on speaker. “Then Marty and Ellen Culver. Maybe Grant Hannah. I think Paddy’s little brothers and a bunch of their friends were in town and staying with him for a while.” Voicemail answered after five rings. “It’s Jillian and Molly. Zane isn’t home. Is he with you, or do you have any idea where he went? Call me.”

“I’ve got Barb’s number.” Molly dialed and placed it on speaker.

“Molly?” Barb answered with a yawn. “What’s going on? It’s the butt crack of dawn.”

“Zane never came home from Paddy’s last night. Did he stay over? We can’t contact Zane or Paddy.”

“Wait a minute.” The sound of sheets and blankets shifting came through the speaker. “Jillian’s car pulled up outside Paddy’s house, but neither of them came in. I tried calling and texting Zane after her car left, but I never got an answer. We left here around two.”

“We need to look for him. I dropped him off and came back to his house,” Jillian’s voice carried extreme anxiety, burgeoning into mania.

“Jillian?” Barb yawned again on her end.

“What’s going on?” Molly heard a sleepy Rhett ask on the other end of the line.

“Jillian said she dropped Zane off at Paddy’s. I never saw him, did you?” Barb asked her husband.

“No. I thought it was weird you said you saw Jillian’s car, but they didn’t come in. But I started singing karaoke with Marty and lost track of everything.” Molly imagined the sound of strangled cats coming from Marty. None of Zane’s friends had a lick of musical or theatrical talent as she did.

Every wasted second ratcheted up Molly’s anxiety. They were no closer to answers. She looked to Zane for any suggestions while Jillian threw out scenarios left and right. Zane shrugged as he watched his girlfriend torment herself with grim what-ifs.

Barb decided she would come pick up Jillian, and they would search around town. Molly agreed to stay home in case Zane made his way back.

Molly knew for an absolute fact that November 1st would be the worst day of her life.

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About Author Lindsey Gray:

Lindsey Gray is a writer, an over-thinker, and a chronic list-maker, but her passion for writing stories you’ll love always tops the list. Her author journey began in 2010 with the publication of her first novel, and she has spent the last decade creating worlds for readers to play in. In addition to her own work, Gray uses her skills in novel formatting for other authors and hosts the weekly show Gray Matters on TMV Cafe Internet Radio. She lives and writes fueled by iced tea, her handsome hubby, and the beautiful chaos of mothering her children.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook / TikTok / Amazon / X / Thread / Bookbub / Bookhype / Tumblr / StoryGraph / BlueSky

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Peek Inside And Giveaway ~ In The Frame By Hayden Stone

Posted: September 26, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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0

 

In the Frame: A Fake Dating Queer MM Romance

By Hayden Stone

 

(The London Arts Club, #2)
Publication date: August 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

An artist. A developer. And an art gallery which they both want—for very different reasons.

When recent uni grad Matty Gowen-Smith, a talented painter and not so talented bartender, spills a tray of drinks on a hot-shot investor, Florian de Ligt, he’s left with no choice to make amends. Especially after Matty ruins Florian’s suit on a big night out for Florian’s birthday.

Trying to make things right, broke artist Matty offers Florian his only suit in a desperate effort to not get fired from his job. Conveniently, Matty is flat sitting around the corner, where his one prized suit awaits his friend’s wedding next weekend. Not so conveniently, they are soon trapped together in an elevator at Matty’s flat, and things rapidly go from bad to worse until landing on an uneasy truce.

Which is where a pact is born to come right from this mess. Florian needs a date for an upcoming art gala, a world he knows little about. Matty desperately needs a respectable date for his friend’s Brighton wedding to prove he’s a success in his new London life.

Two fake dates and an unexpected kiss later, fake feelings begin to feel a bit too much like real feelings. Which wouldn’t be a problem if Florian wasn’t so determined to dismantle Matty’s art community by redeveloping a popular local art gallery into luxury condos. An art gallery which may give Matty the solo exhibition he’s dreamt of to launch his art career. And now Matty must choose between his community or what might be a real chance at love…

In the Frame, the second book in the London Arts Club series, features forced proximity, boy next door, and fake dating in a fun new adult romcom.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

The fact is I’m kind of a shit bartender in a not-so-shit London bar. A popular bar full of discerning hipsters with deep pockets and others who want to be seen. It’s my first Saturday night working here at my new job. Which is exactly what I need to be doing to bring in some cash, and not spending money I can’t afford on supplies from the local art shop around the corner in Soho.

Forget that my new boss has all the makings of a tyrannical dictator—one who already has me nestled comfortably in his crosshairs. It’s not all smooth sailing despite the luxurious queer glamour of Ivan’s. Dramatic high-coffered ceilings soar overhead with gleaming chandeliers, and chic paintings from highly successful contemporary artists hangs on dark walls. The last part’s like artisanal sea salt in a career-shaped wound.

I have no idea why they hired me. Aside from me technically being qualified for the job. And also technically having the right references.

I mean, they obviously needed another bartender, after one of their old ones left. Which is a reasonable thing for a bar to want to keep running smoothly and keep their customers in suggestively named cocktails, like Get Your Freak On or Banger Baby or classics like Sex on the Beach. But just because I gave them my resumé doesn’t automatically mean I’m the best man for the job.

Never mind. I’m here now and I need to get on with it. The paycheck will make up for my current suffering, and, at best, low-key competence.

Around me, the upscale bar glows with burnished wood counters, gleaming glassware, and a stylishly imposing pink neon display (saying you have arrived and it reminds me a little of Tracey Emin’s works in neon), accompanied by a thousand bottles of premium, backlit spirits on the brick wall behind me that the finest of London’s equally premium queers will enjoy. Backlighting optional.

Clenching my jaw, I wring the bar cloth into the sink, rinse it, and give the counter in front of me a quick wipe, because I inadvertently slopped some ale when I should have slid the glass over with a certain panache expected of a bartender in a place like this. With every last drop of said ale staying within the confines of its glassware.

Except I panicked, because nerves.

Because Saturday night. Because there are hot men everywhere, where the hotness per capita rating is off the charts—to the point there should be a public health warning and an exclusion zone for the susceptible to distraction, like me. It’s definitely the sort of hotspot in London where people go when they want to be noticed. The occasional celeb makes their way through here too, tipping off the paparazzi who wait outside. There’re regularly high numbers of influencers in Ivan’s, all vying for social media clout.

Meanwhile, the remaining froth I missed looks obscene on the walnut bar. I wring out the cloth one more time for luck.

People in the queue for drinks are thankfully looking at the mess and not at me. In my crisp white shirt and black waistcoat and pressed trousers, I at least look the part like the rest of the wait staff, if not the clientele. In fairness to me, I do tidy up quite nicely when I try. Except I’ve got no chill, especially not tonight.

 

About Author Hayden Stone:

More animal than mineral, Hayden Stone (he/him) is a writer of fun queer fiction, especially with kissing. Hayden is the author of the When Snow Falls, Being Royal, and The London Arts Club romcom series. He currently lives in Victoria, Canada, and has previously lived in Vancouver, Canada and London, UK. You can find out his latest news on Instagram or his website: haydenstonebooks.com

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This Is Halloween By Sarah Branson ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: September 19, 2026 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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1

 

This is Halloween

By Sarah Branson

 

(A Blue Spruce Hills Novella)
Publication date: September 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Midwife. Halloween. A Pennsylvania hill town. A ghost with an agenda. A historian with patient eyes.

Jules Lockwood, nurse-midwife and family nurse practitioner, wants two years of loan forgiveness and a one-way ticket to Australia. Her obstacle: a town that keeps finding reasons to need her.

Eli Matthews, Blue Spruce Hills town historian, is the kind of man who came back when it mattered and stayed. He brings coffee every morning without being asked.

Agnes Bell, midwife, 1856 to 1931, has been waiting in Blue Spruce Hills since her death for the right pair of hands to pass her work to. She has found them. She is not subtle about it.

On Halloween night, when the veil between past and present is at its thinnest, everything Jules came to Blue Spruce Hills to avoid arrives at once.

This Is Halloween delivers the satisfaction of a woman choosing herself and her work on her own terms, a slow-burn romance that earns every moment, and a ghost story that will make you wish you could have known Agnes Bell.

• small town romance
• ghost mentor
• found community
• slow burn
• woman finding home
• past and present collide
• reluctant to stay
• Halloween setting
• professional woman romance
• haunted by the past (literal)
• second chance at belonging

Heat level: closed door
Series: Blue Spruce Hills, Book 1 — standalone, complete story, no cliffhanger
POV: third person limited, Jules
Tense: past
Setting: small Pennsylvania town, October through May
Comp titles: The House in the Cerulean Sea; Beach Read; A Discovery of Witches
Content notes: pregnancy and birth depicted (clinical, not graphic); brief mention of historical pregnancy loss (off-page); deployment/absent spouse (minor character)

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

Juliet “Jules” Lockwood had sworn exactly six times since leaving the highway and crossing the Blue Spruce Hills town line. All six had been silent. All six had been necessary.

She pulled her Subaru into the gravel lot beside the Blue Spruce Hills Community Clinic and sat there longer than necessary, hands wrapped around the steering wheel like the car might attempt escape without her. Outside, the October sky was an intense blue with a few white clouds scudding across it. A carved pumpkin grinned from the clinic’s front step. Orange lights shaped like leaves were looped around the porch railing. Just up the street, a plastic skeleton swung from a telephone pole, rotating haphazardly in the wind.

Jules stared at the skeleton. The skeleton appeared to stare back.

She opened the car door, stepped out onto the gravel, closed her eyes, and took a deep inhale. Wood smoke and baked goods, harvest-sweet with cinnamon and nutmeg. It was, Jules thought grimly, aggressively charming. She took a step and nearly collided with a man holding a cardboard tray of coffee.

“Oh! Sorry!” he said, immediately steadying both the tray and her elbow with equal care. He was tall and laid back, with dark hair that the wind had done something unrequested to and kind brown eyes, soft and patient, the sort of eyes that suggested the person behind them listened when you talked. He wore a canvas jacket the color of cedar bark and was smiling with the easy confidence of someone who had nowhere to be and was fine with that. “You must be Jules.”

She froze. This was… unfortunate. Because those eyes were going to be a problem. She recognized his type immediately, the way one would recognize a load-bearing wall, structural and quiet, that the whole room organizes itself around without anyone quite noticing. Those eyes reflected the sort of steadiness that belonged to men who stayed. She had believed that about someone once. Believed it comprehensively and inconveniently, and at considerable personal expense. Never again.

“I’m Eli Matthews,” he said, and held out the coffee tray. “Town historian and unofficial town greeter. I brought options. Decaf, regular, and one with oat milk, because the clinic called ahead and…” he paused, reconsidering his own sentence, “okay, I asked Margaret at the post office, who asked Clara at the bakery, who said she had heard that you’d mentioned oat milk to someone at the gas station in Lehighton.”

Jules stared at the tray. “That’s a significant intelligence operation for a cup of coffee.”

He smiled, a little sheepishly. “Small town. We have patterns.” He glanced at the pumpkin on the porch. “Also, it’s October. We take hospitality seriously in October.”

She reached for the oat milk coffee. Behind her, someone cleared their throat very distinctly — the throat-clearing of someone who had been waiting a respectable amount of time and was now done waiting. Jules’s hand tightened around the cup.

She recognized that sound. She knew it the way she knew a change in barometric pressure, in her teeth, at the base of her skull, in the specific cold that moved along her spine when something was present that had no business being present.

Absolutely not. I am not doing ghosts again.

She turned slowly.

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About Author Sarah Branson:

Award-winning feminist speculative fiction author Sarah Branson spent close to thirty years as a midwife before turning to fiction, writing tales of action, adventure, revenge, and romance rooted in the strength and resiliency of the human spirit. Her New Earth universe imagines a future where diversity of identity is simply the texture of life, with honors including the 2022 Kindle Book Award for science fiction, the 2025 Wishing Shelf Book Award Gold Medal for A Pirates’ Pact, and a Foreword Indie Award Honorable Mention for For the Love of Glitter. Her two newest releases expand beyond New Earth: This Is Halloween, a cozy women’s fiction novella in the Blue Spruce Hills series (September 17, 2026), and Life Ends, Love Remains: A Revolutionary Ghost Story, a literary paranormal novel set in Ridgefield, Connecticut (early October 2026). Sarah lives with her husband in Connecticut.

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