Posts Tagged ‘romance’

 

Track of Courage by Susan May Warren Banner

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TRACK OF COURAGE
by Susan May Warren
January 5 – 16, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
CALL OF THE WILD

 

A hijacked plane. A pursuing killer. And a K9’s instinct to help them make it out alive.

Pop singer Keely Williams’s search for her biological mother in Alaska has been painfully unsuccessful. Now she just wants to escape this wild frontier and never look back. But when her plane is hijacked, she’s suddenly plunged into a race against not only an Alaskan blizzard but also a killer who’s on her tail.

After a career-ending injury, ex-cop Dawson Mulligan has only one friend–Caspian, the stray dog he adopted. Dawson just wants to figure out how to get his life on track, but during a flight home to Copper Mountain, he spots a downed plane and stops to help. Except, when his not-a-rescue dog runs off into the woods and discovers the trail of a missing survivor, it’s up to the former cop to stage a rescue.

But Dawson has no idea he’s being pulled into a deadly pursuit, or that Caspian is more than he seems. There might be redemption and second chances waiting for both Dawson and Keely if they have the courage to face their wounded pasts and fight for their future.

Join master storyteller Susan May Warren for a propulsive ride through the Alaskan wilderness, where love might be the riskiest–and most rewarding–adventure of all.

Prepare to experience edge-of-your-seat action combined with heart-stirring romance and heroic K9 companions in this exhilarating romantic suspense that will thrill fans of Lynette Eason and Elizabeth Goddard.

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Book Details:

Genre: Christian Romantic Suspense Thriller

Published by: Revell Publication Date: January 6, 2026 Number of Pages: 320 pages, Paperback ISBN: 9780800746056 (ISBN10: 0800746058) Pbk Series: Call of the Wild, #1

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | ChristianBook | Baker Book House

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MY REVIEW

I enjoy character driven  stories and this was very much one of those. You have Keely, a famous pop singer who goes undercover to find her biological mother. Then there’s Dawson, injured in the line of duty, who just wants to go back to being a cop. Their paths converge after a hijacked plane crashes and a rescue turns into a fight for their lives.

I said the plane crash brought Keely and Dawson together, but I changed my mind after Dawson’s dog, Caspian, became a larger presence in the story. They were both carrying some heavy baggage and it seemed like every time things looked hopeless, Caspian somehow guided them through it. I’ve been told the answers to your prayers may not be obvious. You might not recognize them as the answers. I wondered if Caspian was that answer.

Track Of Courage was a wonderful story of coming out the other side of trauma with hope and faith restored.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside TRACK OF COURAGE:

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About Author Susan May Warren :

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Susan May Warren is the USA Today bestselling author of nearly 100 novels with more than 1.5 million books sold, including the Global Search and Rescue and Montana Rescue series. Winner of a RITA Award and multiple Christy and Carol Awards, as well as the HOLT Medallion and numerous Readers’ Choice Awards, Susan makes her home in Minnesota.

Catch Up With Susan May Warren:

SusanMayWarren.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads – @SusanMayWarren BookBub – @SusanMayWarren Instagram – @SusanMayWarren X – @SusanMayWarren Facebook – @SusanMayWarrenFiction YouTube – @SusanMayWarrenFiction

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Find Me At The Disco

By Diahanna Aurora Hampton

 

Publication date: January 8th 2026
Genres: Action, Romance

New York, 1977. Liza Collins is struggling to reconcile her relationship with her father, Will, after a lifetime of secrets and betrayal. Upon graduating from boarding school in London, Liza returns to her hometown of New York City seeking answers about her childhood that Will has largely left unanswered. Instead of answers, Liza unearths a series of illicit affairs, sham marriages, and financial troubles her father has tried to keep buried.

As Liza struggles with these findings and navigates adulthood, she meets Jennifer Blake-a woman who introduces her to a world of drugs, alcohol, and disco. In the midst of it all, Liza then discovers something about her family that she never could have imagined, clouding her judgment and sense of self. Consequently, Will is forced to either confess his mistakes or give up on his relationship with his daughter entirely.

Goodreads / Purchase

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Jennifer grabbed Liza’s arm. “Let’s go boogie!”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of crowded.”

Liza stood awkwardly, watching people bump into each other. “That’s the best though, people moving their bodies against you. No one cares if you can’t dance, you just move to the beat and have fun.”

Before Liza could respond, a different song came on, Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love,” making people cheer and dance faster than before.

“Oh my God! I love this song, come on!” Jennifer squealed.

Liza let Jennifer pull her onto the dance floor. At first, she wasn’t really dancing. She kept getting shoved and pushed as she stood in front of Jennifer, who automatically moved to the beat. She tried to mimic her friend’s movements, but she felt unsure of herself as she struggled to get the right rhythm. Jennifer must have noticed Liza’s efforts, as she turned Liza around and placed her hands on her hips to help guide her. The song’s beat got easier for Liza to follow as she heard Donna Summer’s voice hum from the speakers.

Liza relaxed as the alcohol coursed through her veins. She let her body move under Jennifer’s direction and stopped overthinking. Jennifer turned Liza back around to face her, moving their bodies closer. Jennifer reached into her pocket to show Liza a few pills in a small plastic bag. She still moved to the beat when she popped one in her mouth and then promptly kissed Liza, transfer-ring a piece of the pill from her tongue to Liza’s. When Jennifer pulled away, she smirked.

After a few moments, Liza threw her head back as she felt the drug take hold. She saw the disco ball spinning above her, and the multicolored lights flashing around the club. Her vision blurred, coming in and out of focus like a kaleidoscope. Jennifer was behind her again bumping and grinding, leaving no room between them. Liza’s heart rate sped up, and she felt sweat drip down her neck. It was hot on the dance floor. Although she was breathing heavily, she continued to dance, letting the beat take over her movements.

They danced for several more songs, each one faster than the last. Liza’s skin was slick from sweat.

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About Author Diahanna Aurora Hampton:

Diahanna Aurora Hampton is a Boston based writer with a B.A. in Art Studies. Find Me At The Disco is her first novel.

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Find Me At The Disco Blitz

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High Couch of Silistra, first of the notorious
Silistra Quartet, brings us to a realm where thought alters probability, where
creativity is inextricably linked to the urge to own and dominate, and where
the universe itself is amenable to a focused mind.

Rooted deeply in humanity’s mythic past yet unaware
of the planet Earth, High Couch of Silistra begins one woman’s mythic quest for
self-knowledge – with surprising results.

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High Couch of Silistra

The Silistra Quartet Book 1

by Janet Morris

Genre: Dystopian Epic SciFi Fantasy Romance

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Biology shapes reality…

One woman’s mythic search for self-realization in a distant tomorrow…

Her sensuality was at the core of her world, her quest beyond the civilized
stars.

Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler.

“Engrossing characters in a marvelous adventure.” – Charles N. Brown,
Locus Magazine

“The amazing and erotic adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in
tomorrow’s universe”

– Frederik Pohl

“The best single example of prostitution used in fantasy is Janet Morris’
Silistra series… Estri’s character is most like that of Ishtar who describes
herself as “‘a prostitute compassionate am I'” because she
“symbolizes the creative submission to the demands of instinct, to the
chaos of nature …the free woman, as opposed to the domesticated woman”.
Linking Estri with these lunar and water symbols is not difficult because of
the moon’s eternal virginity (the strength of integrity) links with her changeability
(the prostitute’s switching of lovers). […]

Morris strengthens the moon imagery by having Estri as a
well-keepress because wells, fountains, and the moon as the orb which controls
water have long been associated with fertility, […] In a sense, she is like
the moon because she is apparently eternal, never waxing or waning except in
her pursuit of the quest; she is the prototypical wanderer like the moon and
Ishtar. She is the eternal night symbol of the moon in opposition to the
Day-Keepers […]

 At her majority (her
three hundredth birthday), she is given a silver-cubed hologram letter from her
mother, containing a videotape of her conception by the savage bronzed
barbarian god from another world. […] If Estri’s mother then acts as a bawd,
willing her lineage as Well-Keepress to her daughter, then Estri’s
great-grandmother Astria as foundress of the Well becomes a further mother-bawd
figure when she offers her prophetic advice in her letter: “Guard Astria
for you may lose it, and more. Beware of one who is not as he seems. Stray not
in the port city of Baniev …look well about you, for your father’s daughter’s
brother seeks you”. Having no brother that she knows of does not stay
Estri from undertaking the heroic quest of finding her father.”

 – Anne K. Kaler, The
Picara: From Hera to Fantasy Heroine

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I am Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, former Well-Keepress of Astria on the planet
Silistra. I have begun three times to tell this story, and three times I have
been interrupted. This, then, the fourth attempt, will surely prove successful.

Perhaps you have heard of Silistra, the planet that was catalyst to the sexual
revolution in the year twenty-two thousand, seven hundred and four Bipedal
Federate Standard Time, or of the Silistran serums that lengthen life and
restore vitality in virtually any bipedal life form, or perhaps you have at
some time contracted the services of a Silistran telepath, or a precognitive,
or a deep reader. It is possible that you have in your own home the
scintillating, indestructible web-cloth woven by our domestic arachnids, or
have seen holograms of our golachits, those intelligent builder-beetles who
exude from their mouths a translucent, superhard substance called gol and
create from this gol, under the guidance of the chit-guards, the formidable and
resplendent structures in which we live and work.

And perhaps you have seen no web-cloth, no gol, never been ill, and are not
interested in sex. If so, you may never have heard of Silistra.

I carry Silistra in my mind’s eye, here under this alien sun. In my mind alone
can I look out the east window of my beloved exercise hall in Well Astria and
see the sun’s rising burst upon the jewel-like towers and keeps of the Inner
Well and a thousand rainbows arc and dance in the greening sky.

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What is something unique/quirky about you?

I breed Morgan horses. I consult with Morgan breeders to help them choose breeding combinations to achieve a desired result.

I am also a song writer; I play bass guitar with my husband Chris who sings and plays guitar. We have an album on MCA records. Look for Christopher Crosby Morris on Soundcloud or N1M.com

Can you, for those who don’t know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?

I wrote my first novel, High Couch of Silistra in 1975; a friend sent it to an agent who chose to represent me; I had already written the second book in the Silistra Quartet and my agent told me not to disclose that until they finalized the contract for the first one. When the publisher learned of the others, Bantam Books bought the succeeding three. When the fourth book was published, the series already had four million copies in print. Suddenly I was a novelist specializing in environmental, gender, historical and political subjects. In the process, Chris became my editor and ultimately a co-writer. Since then, we have co-authored many books.

Who is your hero and why?

Heraclitus of Ephesus, a pre-socratic philosopher, whose Cosmic Fragments foreshadow our knowledge of reality and how to perceive it. Among his precepts is the statement that change alone is unchanging. I’ve worked Heraclitus’ fragments in here and there throughout our books.

Which of your novels can you imagine being made into a movie?

All of them. I write cinematically, our books are vivid adventures I undertake without knowing the destination.  I, the Sun, The Sacred Band, and Outpassage are particularly suited to film. The Threshold Series is a feast of opportunities for today’s special effects creators.

What inspired you, to write The Silistra Quartet?

The Silistra Quartet was a unique departure for me and it included issues of women’s rights in the 70’s before Handmaid’s Tale.

Convince us why you feel High Couch of Silistra is a must read.

The Silistra series in which High Couch of Silistra is book 1 blazed a new trail in science fiction and fantasy, many critics saying that I had created a new pantheon of warrior women giving rise to heroines like Xena. Today it is more important than ever for everyone to accept women in leadership roles and I would like to think we had something to do with gaining them more recognition.

Who designed your book covers?

Most of my covers, including High Couch of Silistra, are realized by Roy Mauritsen, a gifted graphic artist.

Advice to writers?

As for advice to writers, here is all I know: write the story you want to read. Start at the beginning, go to the end, and stop. Seriously. From start to finish you must inhabit the construct in a manner that makes the reader choose to continue; if I, as the writer, can’t feel what it’s like being there, my readers can’t either. So close your eyes, look at your feet where they are standing on the story’s ground; tell me what you see. Tell me what you hear. Ask at the end of each paragraph ‘what happens next?’. If you lose touch with it, wait until you’re back inside it. Tell the story that comes to you, and from you, to me.

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Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in
1976 and published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris
Morris or others. She contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy
series Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a
mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes. She
created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell,
writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The
Little Helliad, with Chris Morris. She wrote the bestselling Silistra Quartet
in the 1970s, including High Couch of Silistra, The Golden Sword, Wind from the
Abyss, and The Carnelian Throne. This quartet had more than four million copies
in Bantam print alone, and was translated into German, French, Italian, Russian
and other languages. In the 1980s, Baen Books released a second edition of this
landmark series. The third edition is the Author’s Cut edition, newly revised
by the author for Perseid Press. Most of her fiction work has been in the
fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical
and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several
book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal
weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national
security topics.

Janet said: ‘People often ask what book to read
first. I recommend “I, the Sun” if you like ancient history;
“The Sacred Band,” a novel, if you like heroic fantasy; “Lawyers
in Hell” if you like historical fantasy set in hell;
“Outpassage” if you like hard science fiction; “High Couch of
Silistra” if you like far-future dystopian or philosophical novels. I am
most enthusiastic about the definitive Perseid Press Author’s Cut editions,
which I revised and expanded.’

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A Friends to Lovers BDSM Ménage

 

Christmas / Romance / Comedy

 

Date Published: December 23, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

 

Sarah has a secret — she wants her best friend Cole. Cole wants Jeff.
And Jeff? Surprise! He wants them both.

Cole is wild, funny, impulsive, and Sarah’s best friend. She doesn’t
understand what he gets out of submission, but she’s not going to let Cole get
hurt the way he has in the past. So when she discovers his new dom is Jeff,
the jerk who helped kick her out of her undergraduate program, she knows she
has to intervene.

But when she sees Jeff again, she’s confused. He says he wants Sarah to be
Cole’s Christmas present, and she’s stunned. She and Cole are just friends,
aren’t they? Amazingly, Cole seems to want her as much as she secretly has
wanted him. The even bigger surprise? She realizes she wants Jeff too.

Even if she could have them both, this is supposed to be temporary. It’s too
bad she’s only allowed to have Cole for Christmas.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2025 Treva Harte

 

“What’s wrong with you, Cole?” Sarah stared at her friend over the flimsy
coffee container. “You have to go pee pee? You’ve been twitchy ever since we
got here.”

Cole laughed and gave her the finger. He opened his mouth as if to give a
smart-ass answer but then bent over his latte instead. Not looking at her, he
carefully blew on it and took a sip.

Sarah settled back. Cole was obviously dying to tell her something, and she
knew from experience all she needed to do was sit. If he waited more than ten
minutes before spilling everything, he’d probably keel over from the strain.

The clatter of students milling around the student union coffee shop made the
silence less noticeable. They continued drinking.

Two minutes of just downing caffeine. Impressive. Cole was hanging tough.

He shifted again in his seat and shut his eyes, grimacing. Sarah frowned,
suddenly a little concerned. Cole was a genius — a real, measured-by-testing
genius — but that didn’t mean his emotional IQ always matched his
intelligence. She was sure it was a challenge to be five to ten years younger
than his academic peers, and Cole didn’t always meet that challenge. In fact,
Cole could be kind of a pain in the ass. Right now he was acting like he had a
literal pain there.


Oh. Ohhhh, boy
. He might actually have one. Please God, no. She might have to
venture into TMI territory to find out.

Cole had been more than forthcoming about his sex life in the two years they’d
been in grad school together. That was a problem for him. Younger and smarter
in some things had made him vulnerable in others, especially since he was open
about his sexual preferences and desires. Gay at the university was one thing;
gay and dedicated to BDSM was another.

“Has someone hurt you?” She hoped that question would get the job done. Sarah
could be more direct, if need be, but she also probably didn’t want to know
all the particulars.

“No.” His prompt answer was a relief. Of course, he had to add, “Not any more
than I want to be.”

“Ooookay.” Sarah set down her cup. Sometimes a friend had a duty to ask more
even if she’d so much rather not. “Have you met some new dom?”

“You know I have. I told you about him.” Cole didn’t look up from his latte,
but he didn’t sound reluctant to answer.

“You mentioned you’d met someone new at a club a few weeks ago, but you didn’t
say anything more.” That wasn’t like her Cole at all now that she thought
about it. “Is that the guy?”

“Fuck yeah. I was incredibly lucky that night. He hardly ever goes to clubs.
Says they’re too fake for his tastes.” Cole squirmed again. “He isn’t into
scenes. Not public ones.”

“So you’ve been — um — doing things outside of clubs?” Sarah wasn’t sure
which sounded more dangerous. Cole wouldn’t know danger if it bit him on the
butt. Especially if it bit him on the butt.

“At his place. Sarah, it’s… intense. And really sexy.” Cole grinned at her.
“That’s all I’ll say unless you want me to go on. I know how you get.”

“And I know how you get, so thanks for shutting up.” She grinned back at him,
and Cole shifted his weight again. Sarah sighed. “All right, Cole. Why are you
acting this way? Something is going on.”

Cole leaned over, then glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Oh
God
. He felt the need to keep something private. This was going to be a doozy.

“Because I have a butt plug in me. A big one. It’s driving me crazy.
Especially because it’s pressing on my fucking prostate.”

Sarah made a faint protesting noise and covered her eyes. “I don’t want to
know.”

“When I see Jeff after work, he’s going to take it out and replace it with –”

“Don’t want to know, don’t want to know. Don’t. Wanna. Know.” Sarah covered
her ears instead.

Cole pushed down one of her hands and whispered, “Unless you want to pull it
out for me. Jeff might get mad, but it would be worth it if your dainty,
lily-white fingers would take care of things for me right now. It might even
be fun.”

Sarah clenched her dainty, lily-white fingers and smacked him on the shoulder
with her plastic spoon.

Cole leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Stunned, Sarah dropped the
spoon on the table. For such a demonstrative guy, Cole pretty much kept his
hands and lips to himself. Well, at least around women. She’d seen guys pass
him around like an appetizer at parties. Obviously that kind of touching was
different for him.

Oh, shit. After remembering some of those party images, she felt a sudden pang
of lust. She took a deep breath. Now she could see herself testing that butt
plug, imagine what Cole’s tight ass looked like holding it. His gasp when it
moved. Damn it, she didn’t need to have that thought in her head. Talk about
waste of time! Cole was completely off-limits. He’d never be her appetizer.
Friends. They were friends. She’d gotten over her stupid crush long ago. That
didn’t mean she couldn’t admit to herself he was sexy. In an off-limits way.
She didn’t need to start thinking he was available after working so hard to
forget he was hot.

“I knew I’d make you do that, but you did ask.” Cole sounded a little too
smug.

Sarah looked up. Oh Lord, how could he know about her completely inappropriate
thoughts?

Cole rubbed his shoulder, grimacing as if she’d really hurt him. Then he
stopped and winked.


Oh. Right. Very funny
. She’d hit him. They had a standing joke about his smart
mouth and his need for punishment.

“Actually, what I really wanted to ask was what you had planned for
Christmas.” She didn’t care if it was an obvious change of subject. Cole could
go on pushing her buttons for hours. Besides, she did want to ask.

Last year Cole went with her to see her parents. Cole had way too many
experiences with judgmental families like his own, and he’d been apprehensive
about the whole thing, especially meeting her officer father. But Dad had been
Dad, and Cole had been Cole, and everyone had a great time, just the way
Sarah’d expected. This year Mom and Dad had shipped out to Japan, so neither
she nor Cole would be seeing their families. She’d hoped they could hang out
together for the two weeks while the grad dorms closed during winter break.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you! I’m planning on a trip to a ski lodge in
Wyoming all during break.”

“You don’t ski.” Sarah skied but couldn’t afford a weekend, much less weeks at
a resort. Life was so unfair.

“I like skiers. And cowboys. Jeff owns a place there.” Cole crumpled his cup
and tossed it into the garbage.

“Oh. Jackson Hole?” Sarah snickered. “I could see you headed there just for
the name.”

So now she knew this Jeff had money, was a skier, and maybe was a little
pretentious. Two out of three wasn’t bad. Especially if he had a ski lodge.

“Grand Targhee. Jeff says it’s even better than Jackson Hole, although not as
many people have heard of it.”

So unfair. Sarah had heard of it, and everything she’d heard agreed with what
Cole — who was obviously clueless — had said. The place wasn’t even that
pretentious. If Cole’s new man turned out to be perfect, she’d have to be
happy Cole was going away with him on the kind of holiday break she’d want.

And that was so unfair double time. It also meant she had no one to share
Christmas with. She didn’t need another reminder that she’d worked too hard,
frozen too many people out, had no life. Cole, who bubbled over with curiosity
and energy, always made even the bleakest times fun. She’d been counting on
him to carry her through this first really big holiday without her parents.

Well, she’d have to get over it. A military brat got used to being around
strangers. Maybe she could scrounge up enough money to take a little road trip
by herself or get a fancier hotel than she’d planned. It didn’t sound like fun
now, but she would work on it.

“You wanna come along?”

 

About Author Treva Harte

Treva Harte has always been an overachiever. She also collects things. First
it was degrees. First a B.A. in English, then she decided to go back for a
Master’s degree. Not content with that, she added a J.D. Since then she’s
added a husband, also an attorney, and two children to her collection. She’s
continuing her ways as an overachiever, writing her wonderfully offbeat tales
of passion and possibilities — in her spare time.

Visit her website at www.trevaharte.com.

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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An Austen-inspired Short Story Duet

Enjoy two tea
parties, two romances and two characters from one of the world’s most beloved
authors.

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Tea for Two:

An Austen-Inspired
Short Story Duet

by Bianca White

Genre: Historical Romance

Jane Austen and tea.
What more could one ask for?

Enjoy two tea parties, two romances and
two characters from one of the world’s most beloved authors.

In this historical romance short story duet gossip-loving Mrs Jennings meddles
in affairs of the heart, and scandalous Henry Crawford turns heads once again!

Be swept away by the amusements of the Regency tea party in
these Austen-inspired short stories. Delight in the sweet romance, dancing,
gossip and, of course, tea.

“But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.”
― Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

 

Tea
for Two
 comprises two short stories:

 

Jilted

Lord Asher Mandeville is heartbroken when his childhood
love, Miss Tabitha Rowe, jilts him only weeks before their wedding.

Asher refuses to accept Tabitha’s rejection and chases after
his betrothed to demand an explanation.

Tabitha is determined to escape him, but Asher’s shattered
heart will accept nothing other than her return.

 

Wooing
Miss Woodforde

Jasper Trevethan loves Miss Sophie Woodforde, but he is a
penniless rake. Sophie would never marry him, even if he were rich.

As an impoverished companion, Sophie serves the whims of
others while pining for her employer’s scandalous nephew.

When an unexpected inheritance transforms Sophie’s life, she
becomes the target of fortune hunters.

Before another scoundrel steals his love, Jasper must prove
his devotion and woo Miss Woodforde. But Sophie would rather become an old maid
than marry a man who only wants her for her money, especially Mr Trevethan.

 

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Excerpt from Wooing Miss Woodforde

 

He headed to the drawing room.

While Sophie continued to hold his heart,
he could not bring himself to marry another. Yes, he had wasted his days living
off his brother while indulging in a life of idleness and pleasure-seeking. Now
he had no option but to pray his aunt left him her fortune. Perhaps then he
could offer for Sophie. She will never
marry a rake, you fool.
As usual, he tamped down the bitter truth, but the
tiny flicker of hope that one day she may be his was the only thing that
prevented him from sinking further.

His aunt dropped onto the sofa before the
crackling hearth. “It does not help your cause that you continue to associate
with that scoundrel, Mr Crawford.”

Sophie carried out her duties in efficient
silence, pretending not to hear the details of his scandalous associations. How
he longed to take her away from this life of servitude. Someone so good, kind
and selfless deserved better.

After pouring the tea, she handed her
employer a cup.

Without a word of thanks to her companion,
his aunt continued, “There is still talk about his scandalous affair with Mrs
Rushworth. You should end the connection, for it will only sully your name
further. Your reputation as a rake does not help matters, but being associated
with an adulterer will not earn you a respectable bride. What must my dear
sister think of her favourite now?”

He accepted his cup from Sophie with his
head down and muttered his thanks. Shame gnawed at his insides. If his mother
had not died of typhus before he reached his tenth year, she would have been
sorely disappointed in him.

Why could he not be a better man? He should
have sought a profession after university. If he had done something useful,
perhaps, he may have earned Sophie’s good opinion and won her heart. Instead,
he had wasted his life. He was a hopeless rake beyond salvage, in love with a
woman far above him in noble character. Even if he were rich, she would always
be too good for him.

Sophie sat on the sofa next to his aunt and
twiddled with a delicate curl at her nape.

He had to ask again. “Are you certain you
are well, Miss Woodforde?”

“Stop trying to misdirect the attention
from yourself, Trevethan.” Aunt Hammond sipped at her tea.

Wispy tendrils of steam rose from the beige
liquid in his cup, and he tamped down the urge to ask for something stronger.
Liquor would have to wait. Even though nothing eased the painful longing within
him lately.

He could not resist being drawn to the
source of his yearning while she stared at the flickering flames in the hearth.
What had happened to the woman who enjoyed lecturing him about the latest
philanthropic project she wished to support or teased him following the gossip
surrounding his misadventures? Not that he had many these days unless one
counted spending the evenings drinking brandy with Crawford while they both
pined for the women they loved but could not possess.

“Trevethan!” he jerked his head towards his
aunt. Her narrowed gaze bore into him. Had he given himself away?

She glowered, then said, “Miss Woodforde
has received some surprising news today that has unsettled her.”

Sophie’s head shot up; her wide gaze
directed towards her employer.

“I hope it is nothing serious?” My God, she
was ill. “Is there anything I can
do?”

Aunt Hammond scoffed. “It is not unwelcome
news—well, not for Miss Woodforde.”

“Mrs Hammond.” Sophie pleaded, but as
usual, his aunt could not be silenced.

“Miss Woodforde is now an heiress with
twenty thousand.”

His breath stuttered.

On the opposite sofa, Sophie’s head lolled
forward, and she ran a palm across her forehead.

Sophie was a wealthy woman—a single,
wealthy woman. That meant she no longer needed to work for his aunt. He would
not see her when he visited.

Aunt Hammond asked, “Will you not offer
your congratulations?”

He glanced at his aunt before returning his
attention to Sophie, whose shoulders slumped.

A burning sensation spread down his gullet,
and he swallowed. “Congratulations, Miss Woodforde.”

His aunt sniffed. “She is almost maudlin;
anyone would think a beloved family member had died.”

Sophie continued to stare into the teacup
in her lap. She would leave, and he would never see her again.

Aunt Hammond prattled on. “Heaven knows
why, but she wishes to keep it a secret. She should marry, yet she insists she
will remain in my employment.”

Of course, her sense of duty would not
allow her to abandon his aunt. Selfish thoughts about her leaving had
distracted him from the more pressing issue. Another man would steal her from
him. His heart skipped a beat. He could not allow it.

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Bianca White writes passionate and spicy historical romance.

Bianca loves history and has a degree in history and history of art. The word
“research” is often used as an excuse to drag members of her family
around every stately home and castle wherever they go. Nothing, not even
the grumbling of said family, will keep her away from a historical fashion
exhibition.

When she’s not writing, Bianca feeds her addiction to romance novels. She also loves
baking and watching movies. Thanks to her love of baking (and eating), she
feels the need to balance it with a little activity and enjoys tai chi,
aerobics and swimming.

Bianca lives in West Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two children.

To receive all the latest news from Bianca White, and a bit of history in your inbox, sign
up for her mailing list at
Bianca White Writes.

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

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Fabulously Flawed

By Lynne Hancock Pearson

 

Publication date: November 15th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Small town. Big dreams. One renovation that changes everything.

After three years of climbing the corporate ladder, Carl can practically taste the corner office with his name on the door. However, caring for his injured grandmother takes precedence, forcing his return to Keeney. But not to stay. Career-wise, the small town is a dead end, and others have their eye on that corner office.

Trading boardroom strategy for work boots and hard hats, Carl rejoins Keeney Building Supply to work as a general contractor—temporarily. He’s made that clear to everyone, including Sylvie.

Years ago, they parted ways before their mutual attraction could ignite, and Sylvie moved on, partnering with a charming developer who shared her excitement for flipping houses. However, charm can be deceiving—the developer wanted only her money, not her heart, leaving her plans in ruins.

Carl steps in, offering friendship, ice cream, and a new opportunity for her own home renovation business. Sylvie’s spark returns, and their attraction kindles, but Carl keeps his distance.

With his grandmother well on her way to recovery, there’s nothing to keep him in the small town. His future is waiting, and it’s not in Keeney.

Or is it?

A workplace romance, Fabulously Flawed is a story of the messy beauty of falling for someone who challenges everything you thought you wanted: a would-be house flipper who clashes and connects with the driven project manager determined to escape the confines of small-town life.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Hoping Carl would indeed wind up at her place, Sylvie had spent the morning in a cleaning frenzy, and her kitchen shone. There were fresh, fluffy towels in the sparkling bathroom, vacuum tracks on the carpet, and most importantly, clean sheets on the bed. Afterward, she’d collapsed on the couch.

But then she didn’t like the placement of the living room furniture, so she’d arranged and rearranged it to look cozier, and placed candles artfully around the room. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Images of Carl naked and hovering over her had haunted her dreams. She had no doubt the reality would be even better.

Part of her dream came true about twenty minutes later.

Having told Carl to get comfortable, she’d gone into the kitchen to assemble a late-night snack. From the fridge, she pulled the cheeseboard she’d assembled that morning and the wine. And not her usual box of Okanagan Porchbanger. For this momentous night—at least she hoped it would be—she’d splurged on a higher-end bottle. On a waiting tray, she arranged the cheeseboard, plates, napkins, and two glasses of wine.

Carl sat on the couch, one arm draped along the back of the cushions. She’d been right about the candles because the soft light made his dark eyes shine. Transfixed by the invitation in his smile, she walked into the living room and promptly tripped.

Moving quickly, Carl leaped from the couch to catch the falling glasses, but not before the contents splashed across his face, to drip down his chest. Cheese, crackers, cornichons, and cured meats were scattered across the coffee table that Sylvie had relocated earlier that day. Holding the two glasses, Carl blinked drops of wine from his lashes.

Sylvie’s mouth hung open as she stared at him in dismay. “Oh my God! I am so, so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he said, smacking his lips. “I like a good rosé.” He set the glasses on the tray and took it from Sylvie’s hands. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

Pain radiated from where her knee had connected with the stupid coffee table. It wasn’t bleeding, but she’d have a lovely bruise tomorrow. “No,” she replied, bending her knee experimentally. “I’m fine, but your shirt isn’t.” Soaked through in spots, the fabric was rapidly turning pink.

He took the tray into the kitchen and returned, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from the waistband of his trousers. “It’ll wash. But do you have a towel? I’d like to clean up a bit.”

After guiding him to the bathroom and handing him a towel, Sylvie went to clean up the mess. The good news was that nothing had broken, and only Carl had gotten wet. The bad news was…she sucked at seduction. He probably had an Uber on the way, ready to make his escape. She scooped the remains of her carefully planned evening off the coffee table and got down on her knees to retrieve tiny pickles from under the couch.

She turned to look when Carl returned, and her mouth hung open again. Hands shoved into his trouser pockets, and shirtless, he was a sight to behold. A smattering of hair covered his pectoral muscles and arrowed down his taut belly. The slopes and dips that defined the muscles of his arms and chest called to her, and she rose from the floor, knowing she was staring and not caring a bit.

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About Author Lynne Hancock Pearson:

Lynne Hancock Pearson writes fun, flirty, feel-good fiction that simmers at low heat. Set in the Pacific Northwest, they are stories of people finding their way, even if it takes a while to get there.

She lives near Seattle with two and a half finicky felines and one long-suffering husband. She is a left-handed middle child who grew up in the Great White North and is a proud member of the Métis Nation of Canada.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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Rewind to Us
by Shells Walter


Rewind to Us
Young Adult Romantic Fantasy
Setting – In a small town, then to California, and part in South Korea 
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Independently Published
Publication Date ‏ : ‎ October 1, 2025
Paperback
Print length ‏ : ‎ 283 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8267898584
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0FTDTGBGW

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Rewind to Us is a heart-pounding K-Pop romance that asks the ultimate question: Would you choose fame, or the one you love?

Big is the shining star of the hottest K-Pop groups in the world. On stage, he’s adored by millions. Off stage, he’s trapped in a career that no longer feels like his own. Then fate intervenes and he meets Kelly, an ordinary person whose warmth and honesty ignite a spark he never expected. She doesn’t know who he is at first as he is in hiding.

Instant chemistry turns into something deeper, but tragedy soon strikes, forcing Big to make an impossible deal. His career, his freedom, and his love all hang in the balance. Will he ever see Kelly again, or will the choice he makes change both of their lives forever?

Perfect for fans of K-Dramas, BTS, Blackpink, and heartfelt celebrity romances, Rewind to Us is a story of passion, sacrifice, and the courage to fight for love in a world built on fame.

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About Rewind to Us

Shells Walter has been writing for several years, creating stories that span across multiple genres, from mystery to fantasy to contemporary romance. Her work has been recognized in the Top Ten of the Preditors and Editors competition for Dead Practices, showcasing her ability to captivate readers with compelling characters and unforgettable plots.

An avid K-Pop fan, Shells brings her passion for music, fandom culture, and emotional storytelling into her latest work, Rewind to Us. She currently lives on the East Coast with her three cats, where she continues to write, dream, and connect with readers who love stories about resilience, love, and chasing dreams.

Discover more at www.shellswalter.com.

Purchase Links  -Author Site –  PaperbackEbook   Amazon Paperback    Amazon Digital

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Puck Me It’s Christmas!

By Alina Jacobs

 

(Maplewood Falls, #2)
Publication date: November 18th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

When you’re a blacklisted preschool teacher and somehow end up coaching the worst team in the NHL, it’s shaping up to be the crappiest Christmas ever.
We’re adding an NHL head-coaching job to the Yule log dumpster fire of my holiday season.
I lost my apartment and had to move back home for the holidays.
My mom sneaks into my bedroom to watch me sleep because she “can’t help it. I missed my little girl so much, Ellie!”
And my day-drinking granny has declared herself the team’s new equipment manager so she can ogle hockey butts in the locker room.
The last thing I need is twenty-two adult toddlers with blades on their feet and bad attitudes for Christmas.

Captain Fletcher Sullivan? He’s the worst, with his muscles and his sneer, turning every practice into The Grinch on Ice.
Between breaking up fights, hosting snack time, and bailing my goalie out of jail, I have no time for Christmas cheer—or for the cocky, absurdly ripped team captain who thinks I don’t belong in the NHL.

Yes, I played on the women’s national hockey team.
Yes, I lift weights.
And yes, I will pick up a six-four hockey player and put him in time-out if he doesn’t follow directions.
There’s no Christmas miracle coming to save us. We lose. A lot.

But armed with Goldfish crackers and juice boxes, I’m going to turn this team of ragtag hockey players into winners.
Even if it turns me into the Grinch.
Or worse—makes me fall for the enemy.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

“Girl, they are throwing you off a glass cliff.”

“I don’t want everyone to blame me when we get creamed.” I sink in my chair.

My dad kneels in front of me and grabs my hand. “Exactly! So do the press conference, say you have another job offer, and this will all be over.”

“No wonder they kept trading your ass around when you were a goalie!” Granny Murray makes a rude noise. “You’re a quitter and a narc.”

Angie comes in with my phone that’s ringing and ringing.

I don’t recognize the number, though it’s a Maplewood Falls area code.

“It’s the press.” Angie waves the phone at me. “Tell them you won’t do interviews unless they pay you.”

“Ooh! Yeah, then we can go shopping,” Maxine squeals.

“Aunt Babs already bought you clothes, sweetie.” Mom smooths my hair down.

“Don’t talk to the press,” my dad begs.

“Nate,” my mom tells him, “let me make you some herbal tea.”

“Food!” my little brothers wail.

“For God’s sake,” my dad curses.

I answer the phone.

“Speaker,” Maxie whispers. “Put it on speaker.”

“Hello?” My voice is hesitant.

A loud, irritated male sigh echoes around the kitchen as everyone watches breathlessly. “Candy Cane?” I can practically hear Fletcher roll his eyes. “I mean, Coach Candy Cane.”

I grimace. “About that…”

“You better not be flaking out,” the deep voice warns. “You have the keys. We’re freezing our nuts off out here.”

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About Author Alina Jacobs:

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

http://alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Newsletter

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The Champagne Crush

By Caroline O’ Connell

 

(Les Femmes Series)
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

For fans of Emily In Paris (on Netflix). “Pop the cork on this sparkling romance where champagne dreams and career schemes collide in the vineyards of Napa and the glamour of New York. Catherine Reynolds is ready to reinvent herself, but a flirty CEO, fizzing ambition, and a splash of betrayal shake up her plans. From vineyard drama to high-stakes PR, love and bubbles rise to the top. Perfect for fans of witty banter, slow-burn tension, and second chances with a twist.” —Los Angeles Book Review

Catherine Reynolds has enjoyed a life of luxury, but her diplomat parents have cut her off financially, leaving her flat broke. She is determined to turn things around and gain her independence—so, when an old family friend offers her a lifeline as a PR consultant for his sparkling wine company, she jumps at the chance. But working with Chris McDermott, the company’s sexy, stubborn president, is anything but easy.

A purist at heart, Chris clashes with Catherine’s glitzy marketing flair; still, the chemistry between them is undeniable. As they travel from New York to Napa, Paris, and the Champagne region of France, their partnership blossoms amid high-stakes industry rivalries and a launch that could make or break them.

When sabotage threatens to shatter their dreams, Catherine must dig deep to prove her worth. With the dazzling unveiling of their new sparkling wine in Bordeaux in jeopardy, will she and Chris overcome the challenges of the past and present to secure their future—and find love in the process?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Scene in the Champagne Region of France.

Catherine rode up front with Frédéric. The short drive from Trianon to Hautvillers, a picturesque “high village,” took them up a narrow, winding road barely changed for centuries. Along the route, they passed well-preserved ancient buildings, some displaying forged-iron signs from a different era. Frédéric pulled up to the Abbey of Hautvillers. The small historic church overlooked fields of vineyards in the valley below.

“For Champenois,” Frédéric said, “this is considered the birthplace of champagne. Other regions were experimenting with sparkling wine, but this was the place in France, in Champagne.”

He led them to a patio where an ice bucket and three flutes sat on a small table. “Let’s take a moment to savor a good French champagne, while I tell the story.” He pulled a bottle of Moët’s Dom Pérignon out of the ice bucket and opened it. “It’s appropriate to drink this champagne, since Moët & Chandon named their prestige blend after Dom Pérignon.” He filled the flutes. “Let’s toast.”

Frédéric began. In 1668, a young Benedictine monk, Pierre Pérignon, became cellarmaster of the Abbey at Hautvillers. Dom was a title given to certain Benedictine monks, so he was called Dom Pérignon. At the time, the abbey was making still wine.

Hautvillers, in the Falaises de Champagne, has a cool northern climate. Pérignon noticed when the weather turned warm in spring some bottles of wine became effervescent. By accident, they had gone through a second fermentation, creating bubbly wine. Through trial and error, Pérignon determined that wine yeast went dormant in cold temperatures. In spring, the remaining leftover yeast initiated another fermentation, creating the bubbles.

“We’re talking about a lot of bubbles,” Frédéric said. He explained the bottles couldn’t withstand the additional pressure. Many bottles shattered or the wood plugs popped out, causing spillage. Eventually, Dom Pérignon came up with a cork plug to hermetically seal the bottles, trapping the bubbles in.

“There were still many broken bottles,” Frédéric laughed, “until they devised a way to make stronger bottles.” Future champagne producers learned how to create the millions of bubbles in each bottle by adding yeast to the blended still wine for the second fermentation.

“A sip to celebrate this monk and his gift to the world.” Frédéric lifted his flute. Chris thoroughly enjoyed Frédéric’s description. Catherine seemed mesmerized and made a few notes.

“Pérignon devoted his life to the abbey until he died in 1715,” Frédéric said. “And now, let’s pay our respects.” He led them into the small church to view Dom Pérignon’s tombstone.

They walked back to the car in contemplative silence. Frédéric checked his phone. “We have time to drive by the church in Reims, if you’d like to see it.”

“I’d love to,” Catherine said. “My parents were married at Notre-Dame de Paris, a similar Gothic cathedral.”

Traffic was light. They arrived in Reims, the capital of Champagne, thirty minutes later. Frédéric pulled up to the plaza in front of the cathedral. He gestured to the edifice. “This church has an important historical significance in France. Starting in the thirteenth century, it was chosen for the coronation of French kings”—he paused—“for six hundred years.”

“That’s a long time,” Chris said.

“One of the most famous coronations was the crowning of Charles the Seventh in 1429, attended by Joan of Arc. Jeanne d’Arc, in French,” he added. “Unfortunately, not long after, she was captured by the English and put to death for helping French fighters during the Hundred Years’ War.”

“Sad story,” Catherine said. She stepped out of the car and took a few photos of the facade.

When she got back in, Frédéric drove a few miles to their destination. It was clear the main business of Reims was champagne. Markers indicating numerous champagne houses, including Taittinger and Veuve Clicquot, popped up along the route. Right before the approach to Les Crayères, they passed a sign for Pommery Champagne.

Frédéric pulled into a parking spot. “We’re here.” He got out of the car to see them off.

“Thank you, Frédéric, for making us feel so welcome,” Chris said. “You’ve been a great host and guide.” Chris shook his hand, and Catherine and Frédéric shared air kisses on both cheeks.

“You’ll have to visit us in New York sometime,” Catherine said.

“It’s my dream to go to the US,” Frédéric said. “En tout cas, I will see you in Bordeaux in June.”

“Yes, in two months,” Chris said.

As they walked up to the entrance, Chris stifled the urge to hold Catherine’s hand. She gave him his tie and pulled out a multicolored scarf that she wrapped around her neck.

Chris admired the breathtaking classic French château set in the midst of lush parkland. Yves texted he was running late, so they opted to wait in the bar. After perusing the carte of champagnes by the glass, Chris chose Pommery. Appropriate, since the château was built by that family. A brochure on the table relayed the history.

Les Crayères was built for Louise Pommery, the Duchess of Polignac, in 1904. Decades later, it became a twenty-room château for guests, boasting a gourmet restaurant and luxurious rooms overlooking manicured gardens. One reviewer called it “a Versailles in miniature . . . the stuff of honeymoons and weekend-away liaisons.”

Their flutes were served cold, the way he liked it. They tapped glasses before taking their first sips, very much in sync, like a couple. Chris was starting to sag after a busy day preceded by an early run, but Catherine seemed like the Energizer bunny; that is, if said rabbit wore a short slim dress showcasing killer legs, which he now knew could run like the wind.

Catherine set her glass down. “This is good champagne. Smart choice for the setting. The Pommerys built a lovely château.”

“This place is pretty spectacular,” he agreed, then couldn’t resist adding, “I know who I want to bring here for the two-night stay I won in the auction.”

Excerpt from The Champagne Crush by Caroline O’Connell,
courtesy of SparkPress, an imprint of The Stable Book Group.

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About Author Caroline O’Connell:

CAROLINE O’CONNELL has written five travel guides and numerous travel articles for magazines, newspapers, and websites. Her Romance In Paris guide has won widespread praise: “There is no better person to guide you through Paris than Caroline” — Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective, radio host, and Travel Editor on CBS-TV. And Library Journal raved — “Reading this breezy but informative guide to Paris is like having a series of conversations with a well-traveled friend…”

Her debut novel, THE CHAMPAGNE CRUSH: A Romance Novel (Spark Press), is due out on September 16, 2025.

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Elf on the Edge

By Alina Jacobs

 

(The Wynter Brothers, #3)
Publication date: November 4th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Hire a hitman to take out my cheating ex? It was an eggnog-fueled mistake, I swear!
On Christmas Eve, my perfect fiancé stands up at the altar to declare his pure undying love… for my evil stepsister.
Cue public humiliation, a ruined wedding, and me crawling back to my small hometown to work minimum wage at my granny’s Christmas café.
Just living the holiday dream.

But I refuse to show up sad and alone to my cheating ex and man-stealing stepsister’s engagement party.
I’ll be devoured by gossipy small-town vultures.
So I do what any rational woman would: empty her bank account, max out her credit cards, and hire a high-end escort with the Merry Christmas package.
Too bad I mess up the number and accidentally hire… a hitman.
Oops.
This is why I hate making phone calls.

I realize I’m screwed when Talbot Wynter crashes the party all combat boots, dirty jeans, and washboard abs.
He feels me up, drinks all the booze, flirts with my grandmother, then tries to off my cheating ex in his hotel room.
I scream and make him stop him because I may or may not still pathetically have feelings for my ex.

Talbot thinks I’m insane.
He might be right.
But his company has a strict no-refunds policy.
Now I’m stuck dragging this six-foot-five, potty-mouthed menace of an ex-Marine to Christmas tree cuttings, gingerbread baking, and holiday parties—
All while he tries to convince me to let him take out my ex so he can go snowboarding.

But what if my ex is moved by the holiday spirit and realizes he still loves me and comes home for Christmas?
Or, he would if I could just get this hitman out of my bedroom… and my panties.

Holiday hamster-wheel victims assemble! We’re dodging holiday drama, downing peppermint schnapps, and fending off meddling grandmothers with boundary issues and a death grip on our dating lives. This standalone holiday romantic comedy is packed with chaos, Christmas cookies, and a filthy-mouthed bad boy (and that’s not steel in his pants) guaranteed to leave you swooning under the mistletoe. Happily ever after and holiday cheer guaranteed!

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Wait, where are you going? I thought we were having sex,” I wail as he opens up the window and swings one leg out.

“Excuse me?” He swivels back inside and pulls off the black mask. “Why in the hell would I have sex with you?”

Are you kidding me right now? Are you fucking—because you’re a fucking prostitute.” I’m sobbing now. “And I paid you a fuck-ton of money to pretend to be my boyfriend and to have sex with me.”

His mouth drops open.

It would be funny if all my money weren’t gone.

“Gumdrop.” He jumps back into the room, the soft shoes silent on the carpet. “You did what?”

“You’re a high-end escort, but you really don’t live up to the promise.” I sniffle.

I’m fishing for more mini bottles. Talbot slams the fridge door.

“You really have drunk too much.” He cups my face. “Gumdrop. You paid me to assassinate your ex, Austen Langley. Remember?”

Assassinate? Like kill, kill? Or just like, you’re going to glitter-bomb him?” I squeak.

“Yeah, ‘Grandma gets run over by a reindeer’ level of dead.”

My knees collapse, and I plop down on the floor like Christmas cookie dough.

“I did a… you’re a… I hired an…”

“Assassin?” He unzips the black bag and pulls out the biggest gun. Like, comically large. Movie-villain large. Plus three knives and what might be a torture device along with zip ties and duct tape.

My stomach twists.

“I prefer hitman,” he says, cheerful, like we’re chatting over wine and charcuterie. “Assassin sounds a little bougie. I just kill people and make it look like an accident.”

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” I groan.

“For Austen,” he rambles, obviously pleased with himself, “it’s going to look like he partied too hard and paid the price.”

“Then, but the—” I point to the gun, trying not to hyperventilate.

“This?” he gives it a kiss. “Just a little insurance policy in case things go south. But I have a pretty good plan in place. No one will think he’s been murdered. Everyone saw him downing drink after drink. All the women are off in the hot tub. All his NHL friends are super drunk.”

Talbot shows me his phone. There’s Brielle on the livestream doing a stripper dance, all for the eyes of my fake boyfriend. Shoot, my fake fake boyfriend, because…

Because a cold-blooded killer is standing in my suite, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks. I start scooching back on the carpet.

Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. The dead eyes, the total lack of empathy in his face, the glee as he describes how he’s going to kill Austen, my Austen, my one true love.

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About Author Alina Jacobs:

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

http://alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html

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Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

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Elf on the Edge Blitz

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