I absolutely adore Photographer: Braden Summers images. He captures, beautifully, the love these couples have for one another. Here are a few of my favorite pictures. To view more, click on his name above. Thank you! 🏳️🌈
Survival is still her #1 mission
Sara Gallagher escaped the memories of a painfully shy childhood and her hopeless crush on the boy next door by joining the USAF where Senior Airman Gallagher excelled as a SERE- Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape instructor. But when a training accident leaves Sara scarred and deaf in one ear, she returns home to join the Paladin Group.
Chris Braxton was Peachwood’s golden boy, a rookie major league pitcher, until a drunk driver shattered his shoulder and his dreams. Now entrepreneur Chris’ upscale sporting goods company is negotiating a nationwide expansion. Enroute to a crucial meeting, he overhears the details of a planned felony. When Chris and his family are threatened, he turns to the Paladin Group.
“Stay quiet,” Sara Gallagher whispered across the bedroom to her wide-eyed young client. “Slide under the bed.” In the dim light, she watched the teen roll silently off the far side of the mattress and disappear from sight. Good girl. There was another faint sound outside. Sara crept to the edge of the French door. Drawing her weapon, she pressed her back to the wall. And waited. By climbing onto the condo’s second-story balcony, the stalker was trespassing. Let’s go for B&E. Sara angled her head to the left, straining to hear. The wood casing of the lock creaked. Bingo. Gripping her weapon with both hands, Sara kept the barrel pointed to the ceiling. Heart thundering, she inhaled slow, controlled breaths as the frame cracked, glass shattered. What remained of the door slowly swung open. A booted foot crunched in the glass on the bedroom floor. There we have it—breaking and entering. Sara adjusted her stance. From neck to toes, the intruder was encased in black leather. A black knitted ski mask concealed his head. In one gloved hand, he gripped a metal rod.
Shit. The stalker came armed. Sara curled a finger over the trigger of her Browning. The rest of the intruder’s burly profile eased into the room. “Drop the weapon. Hands up,” Sara shouted. Pivoting, she aimed for his chest. “Drop it now. I will shoot.” The stalker spun around. And took a wild swing with the large crowbar. Sara leapt back. The instant the metal rod cleared her, she yelled, “Stop.” “Bitch…” He growled. “I’ll…” He loomed over her. Gripping the crowbar with both hands, he reared back for another swing. Sara aimed and fired. The 9mm slug tore through the black leather and into the stalker’s shoulder. He let out a wailing scream and dropped the crowbar. It clattered to the hardwood as he staggered back. Grabbing for his bleeding shoulder, the intruder tripped over his own feet. Landed hard on his butt. “Down flat,” Sara snarled. Her fear drained. She was damned angry. Much as the jerk deserved it, she hated shooting anyone. “On your back.” She kicked the crowbar across the floor. “Do it. Or the next bullet goes down your throat.” Eyeing his uninjured legs, she kept a safe distance from his boots. With a mighty groan, the stalker eased back until he was prone. “Police,” a deep voice shouted from the front area of the condo. “Back bedroom,” Sara answered. “I’m armed. Stalker is down and wounded. Needs an EMT.” She raised both her hands. As two uniformed police appeared, she remained frozen in place. Bad idea to be armed and in motion when law enforcement arrived on scene.
“Stay put,” the taller policeman instructed. Then to his partner, “Secure her weapon. And that crowbar.” He radioed for medics. Then he turned to Sara. “What happened here?” “I’m Sara Gallagher, the PI who reported the break-in,” Sara explained, surrendering her Browning. “I’m working with Detective Morgan…” “The detective’s right behind us.” “Excellent. My client is not armed. Ms. Stewart is under the bed.” On cue, the teen peeked over the edge of the duvet. Scrambling to her feet, she took one look at the stalker, the blood, and burst into hysterical tears. “It’s okay,” Sara reassured the sobbing college student. “It’s all over.” The room filled with new arrivals. Another uniformed officer entered from the hall, followed by two EMTs. Her client cried harder. And louder. Sara stepped back to give the paramedics more space, then breathed a silent sigh when the Denver detective assigned to Ms. Stewart’s case appeared. After a quick scan of the room, he met her gaze. “Sergeant Gallagher. You okay?” Shit. The police officer sealing her weapon in an evidence bag and one of the medics looked up at the mention of her former military rank. “I’m fine, Detective. But Miss Stewart—” “This is the guy?” Morgan asked. “Your stalker?” “Yes, I’m certain,” she said with a curt nod. “He climbed to the balcony. Pried open the French door. When he stepped inside, I ordered him to stop. He took a swing at me with the crowbar. After another warning, he kept coming. I had to shoot him.” “Good work, Gallagher.” The detective moved closer to question one of the paramedics working on the stalker. “You’re transporting him?” “Yeah. He’s stable. Going to Denver Hospital Main Campus.” Glancing up, Morgan finally became aware of the distraught teen. “Want a paramedic to look at Miss Stewart?” “Good idea,” Sara said. “Thanks.” The handsome medic managed to quiet the hysterical young woman. But when he suggested Sara’s client go the ER, she intervened. Moving around the bed, she held Lori gently by the elbows and pierced the young woman with a steely look. “Tell the truth,” she whispered. “Are you physically hurt anywhere?” Lori Stewart hiccupped. “No.” “You’ve been very strong, did everything right tonight. Are you positive you need to go to the hospital?” “Maybe not.” Lori shook her head. “That’s a brave woman.” Sara handed her a tissue. “Now blow your nose.” Her spoiled young client had grown up quite a bit over the past week. “Can I talk to Daddy?” “Absolutely. We’ll call now. You can tell him it’s all over. And I’ll tell him what a fantastic job you did.” Sara retrieved her phone and handed it to Lori. “Remember— we still need to go to the station with Detective Morgan, give our statements. He’ll be the one to tell us when you’ll be allowed to go home.”
Lori spoke to her father as the room began to clear. Detective Morgan was on a call of his own when Lori looked up. “Ms. Gallagher? Daddy wants to thank you. And…can we drop you back in Atlanta? The Lear will be here in a couple hours.” Lori handed over the phone. “Well done, Sara,” Mr. Stewart said, his deep voice booming through the cell. Her client’s hard-boiled executive parent was obviously relieved and pleased with the outcome. “I’ll wait to read your version in the final report. Meanwhile, thank you. As if saving my daughter’s life wasn’t enough, it seems you’ve managed to crack that layer of selfish disdain she learned from her aunt.” Sara gave a silent nod. “Lori’s a smart, capable young woman.” The personal danger had helped bring out the young woman’s naturally cooperative nature. “Your example was the best thing for her. I’ll have my people handle the condo and your rental car. May I offer you a lift to Atlanta?” “I’d appreciate a ride home. Can I confirm after I check in with Paladin Group?” “Just call from the police station when you two are finished. I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up there. The corporate jet will be waiting at Denver airport.” “Thank you, sir.” As she disconnected the call, Sara glanced up. Lori had her duffel open on the bed and was tossing clothes into it. “Ms. Gallagher…Sara, could I have a minute?” Detective Morgan asked.
She gave him a nod, and he turned to Lori. “When you’re ready to go, we’ll be in the next room.” He led the way into the second bedroom. Now what? Crossing her arms, Sara faced the detective. He leaned his hip against the dresser. “You were right all along about the stalker.” “Am I going to have trouble with the shooting?” “I’ll have someone from the prosecutor’s office sit in on tonight’s interview. But from where I stand, it looks clear cut.” “Mr. Stewart offered me a lift home on his corporate jet. Will I be free to go?” “Umm, yes. What’s the rush?” He frowned. “I was hoping we could…have dinner tomorrow night?” Sara tried to ignore the familiar tension in her stomach. Why was this handsome man interested in her? Why did he want to take her out? She turned and pulled her suitcase from the closet. As she transferred carefully folded sweaters to her bag, he straightened and stepped closer. Couldn’t they keep things professional? “You’re an amazing woman. I want to get to know you better,” Morgan said.
Still risking their lives…The Paladin Group.
Ginger Odom has sworn to become self-reliant…Until she is arrested in a small town and framed for the murder of a police officer. Seems everyone in the community wants her behind bars, regardless of the truth, so her aunt enlists the help of the Paladin Group. A team of wounded former military men and women, now civilian lawyers and investigators, they rescue people in serious trouble.
Hale Peters is determined to ignore his knee injury…The former Air Force Pararescueman, wounded during a rocket attack on Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan, accepts his first reboot for Paladin. His mission—keep Ginger safe until he can prove her innocence—becomes a bigger challenge than expected when he and Ginger clash over who’s in charge.
The Devil Dogs just want to help…The group of older veterans steps up to assist, but when Ginger’s life is threatened by the real killer, Hale and Ginger need to work together if they hope to stay alive.
BUY BOTH TODAY
CJ MATTHEW grew up in an Air Force family living all over the US and around the world. It proved to be the perfect experience for gathering ideas and material for future books. And for meeting real life heroes and heroines in uniforms and flight-suits. She spent her high school and university years in California, which inspired her love of marine life, and the Pacific Ocean.
As a young girl, she loved books and reading. Arriving at each new duty station, the Colonel’s eldest daughter’s first priority was to locate the base library and befriend the librarians.
As an adult, CJ divided her time between the joys of raising a son and a daughter and a career in medical sales, marketing, and medical practice management. Then in 2007, CJ began her romance novel writing career. Fascinated with vampires and shapeshifters, her first stories form a unique dolphin shapeshifter series based in Santa Barbara, California. According to CJ, a huge attraction to writing paranormal romance is the ability to do serious world-building and to set your own rules. CJ spent the next several years honing her craft, acquiring a literary agent, and continuing to write while the agent pitched the dolphins to NY publishers.
In spring of 2015, CJ gave up on New York. From August to October she self-published the first three of the Dolphin Shore Shifter series. In 2016 she released two additional dolphin books and debuted her romantic suspense series: Paladin Group. The Paladin books are set in a small southern town, and star wounded air force veterans, men and women warriors turned civilian lawyers and investigators determined to continue their rescue work.
In October of 2016, CJ is introducing A Major Seduction, book 1 of the Colonel’s Daughters contemporary romance quintet.
A member of Romance Writers of America (RWA), Georgia Romance Writers (GRW), and Kiss of Death, CJ lives and writes near a lake in the woods northeast of Atlanta. When she isn’t writing or reading romances, CJ spends time with her two grown children, their spouses, a brilliant grandson and a feisty cat named Max.
Schedule permitting, CJ loves to travel, to discover new favorite places as well as meeting new reader/friends in both the US and around the world. Her books have sold in Australia, Canada, Germany, Japan, Spain, and the UK.
Max flatly refuses to travel.
When love drives you crazy…
When sexy Joe Malone never calls after their explosive kiss, Kylieshoves him out of her mind. Until she needs a favor, and it’s a doozy. Something precious to her has been stolen and there’s only one person with unique finder-and-fixer skills that can help—Joe. It means swallowing her pride and somehow trying to avoid the temptation to throttle him—or seduce him.
the best thing to do…
No, Joe didn’t call after the kiss. He’s the fun time guy, not the forever guy. And Kylie, after all she’s been through, deserves a good man who will stay. But everything about Kylie makes it damned hard to focus, and though his brain knows what he has to do, his heart isn’t getting the memo.
…is enjoy the ride.
As Kylie and Joe go on the scavenger hunt of their lives, they discover surprising things about each other. Now, the best way for them to get over “that kiss” might just be to replace it with a hundred more.
**Excerpt courtesy of Jill Shalvis’ Website**
Kylie Masters watched him walk into her shop like he owned it while simultaneously pretending not to notice him. A tricky balancing act that she’d gotten good at. Problem was, like it or not, her attention was caught and captured by the six foot, leanly muscled, scowling guy now standing directly in front of her, hands shoved in his pockets, body language clearly set to Frustrated Male.
She sighed, gave up the ridiculous pretense of being engrossed by her phone, and looked up. She was supposed to smile and ask how she could help him. That’s what they all did when it was their turn to work the front counter at Reclaimed Woods. They were to show potential clients their custom- made goods when what they really wanted was to be in the back workshop making their own individual projects. Kylie’s specialty was dining room sets, which meant she wore a thick apron and goggles to protect herself and was perpetually covered in sawdust.
And she did mean covered in sawdust. Wood flakes dusted her hair and stuck to her exposed arms, and if she’d been wearing any makeup today, they’d have been stuck to her face as well. In short, she was not looking how she wanted to be looking while fac- ing this man again. Not even close. “Joe,” she said in careful greeting.
He gave her a single head nod. Okay, so he wasn’t going to talk first. Fine. She’d be the grown- up today. “What can I do for you?” she asked, fairly certain he wasn’t here to shop for furni- ture. He wasn’t exactly the domesticated type.
Joe ran a hand through his hair so that the military short, dark, silky strands stood straight up. He wore a black T- shirt stretched over broad shoulders, loose over tight abs, untucked over cargos that emphasized his mile- long legs. He was built like the soldier he’d been not too long ago, as if keeping fit was his job— which, given what he did for a living, it absolutely was. He shoved his mirrored sunglasses to the top of his head, revealing ice blue eyes that could be hard as stone when working, but she knew that they could also soften when he was amused, aroused, or having fun. He was none of those three things at the moment.
“I need a birthday present for Molly,” he said. Molly was his sister, and from what Kylie knew of the Malone family, they were close. Everyone knew this and adored the both of them. Kylie herself adored Molly.
She did not adore Joe. “Okay,” she said. “What do you want to get for her?”
“She made me a list.” Joe pulled the list written in Molly’s neat scrawl from one of his many cargo pants pockets.
Bday wishlist: — Puppies. (Yes, plural!) — Shoes. I lurve shoes. Must be as hot as
Elle’s. — $$$ — Concert tickets to Beyoncé. — A release from the crushing inevitability of
death. — The gorgeous wooden inlay mirror made by
“It’s not her birthday for several weeks,” Joe said as Kylie read the list. “But she told me the mirror’s hanging behind the counter, and I didn’t want it to be sold before I could buy it.” His sharp blue eyes searched the wall behind her. “That one,” he said, pointing to an intricately wood- lined mirror that Kylie had indeed made. “She says she fell in love with it. Not all that surprising since your work’s amazing.”
Kylie did her best to keep this from making her glow with pleasure. She and Joe had known each other casually for the year that they’d both been working in this building. Until two nights ago, they’d never done anything but annoy each other. So that he thought of her as amazing was news to her. “I didn’t know you were even aware of my work.”
Instead of answering, his eyes narrowed at the price tag hanging off the mirror, and he let out a low whistle.
“I don’t get to set the prices here,” she said, irritating herself with her defensive tone. She had no idea why she let him drive her so crazy with little to no effort on his part, but she did her best to not examine the reasons for this.
Ever. Joe had been special ops and still had most of his skills, skills he used on his job at an investigation and securities firm upstairs, where he was, for the lack of a better term, a professional finder and fixer. He was a calm and impenetrable badass on the job, and a calm, impenetrable smartass off it. On the worst of days, he made her feel like a seesaw. On the best of days, he made her feel things she liked to shove deep, deep down, because going there with him would be like jumping out of a plane— thrilling, exciting . . . and then certain dismemberment and death.
While she was thinking about this and other things she shouldn’t be thinking, Joe was eyeball- ing the opened box of chocolates on the counter, which a client had brought in earlier. A little card said Help Yourself! and his gaze locked in on the last Bordeaux— her favorite. She’d been saving it asa reward if she made it all day without wanting to strangle anyone.
Mission failed. “It’ll go right to your hips,” she warned.
He met her eyes, his own amused. “You worried about my body, Kylie?”
She used the excuse to look him over. Not exactly a hardship. He was lean, solid muscle. Rumors were that he’d done some MMA fighting right after his service and she believed it. He was perfect and they both knew it. “I didn’t want to mention it,” she said, “but I think you’re starting to get a spare tire.”
“Is that right?” He cocked his head, eyes amused. “A spare tire, huh? Anything else?”
“Welllllll…maybe a little junk in the trunk.” He out- and- out grinned at that, the cocky bastard. “Then maybe we should share the chocolate,” he said and offered the Bordeaux to her, bringing it up to her lips.
Against her better judgment, she took a bite, re- sisting the urge to also sink her teeth into his fingers. With a soft laugh that told her he’d read her mind, he popped the other half into his own mouth and then licked some melted chocolate off his thumb with a suctioning sound that went straight to her nipples, which was super annoying. It was February and blis- tery outside but suddenly she was warm. Very warm. “So,” he said when he’d swallowed. “The mir- ror. I’ll take it.” Reaching into yet another mystery pocket, he pulled out a credit card. “Wrap it up.”
“You can’t have it.”
At this, he studied her with a hint of surprise, like maybe he’d never been told no before in his life.
And hell, looking like he did, he probably hadn’t been.
“Okay,” he said. “I get it. It’s because I never called, right?”
She pushed his hand— and the credit card in it— away. But not before she felt the heat and the easy strength of him, both of which only further annoyed her. “Wrong,” she said. “Not everything’s about you, Joe.”
“True. This is clearly about us,” he said. “And that kiss.”
Oh hell no. He didn’t just bring it up like that, like it was some throwaway event. She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
He just smiled. And didn’t get out. Dammit. She’d grounded herself from thinking about that kiss. That one drunken, very stupid kiss that haunted her dreams and way too many waking moments as well. But it all flooded back to her now, releasing a bunch of stupid endorphins and every- thing. She inhaled a deep breath, locked her knees and her heart, and mentally tossed away the key. “What kiss?”
He gave her a get real look. “Oh, that kiss.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she reached for her water bottle. “I barely remember it.”
“Funny,” he said in a voice of pure sin. “Cuz it rocked my world.”
She choked on her water, coughing and sputtering.
“The mirror’s still not for sale,” she finally managed to wheeze out, wiping her mouth.
I rocked his world? His warm, amused gaze met hers, going smoky and dangerously charismatic. “I could change your mind.”
“On the mirror or the kiss?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Either. Both.” She had no doubt. “The mirror’s already sold,” she said. “The new owner’s coming for it today.”
The buyer just happened to be Spence Baldwin, who owned the building in which they stood. The Pacific Pier Building, to be exact, one of the oldest in the Cow Hollow District of San Francisco. Since the building housed an eclectic mix of businesses on the first and second floors, and residential apartments on the third and fourth floors, all built around a cobble- stone courtyard with a fountain that had been there back in the days when there’d still been actual cows in Cow Hollow, the entire place went a lot like the song— everyone knew everyone’s name.
In any case, Spence had bought the mirror for his girlfriend, Colbie, not that Kylie was going to tell Joe that. For one thing, Spence and Joe were good friends and Spence might let Joe have the mirror.
And though she didn’t know why, Kylie didn’t want Joe to have it. Okay, so she did know why. Things came easy to Joe. Good looking, exciting job…hell, life came easy to him.
“I’ll commission a new one,” Joe said, still looking unconcerned. “You can make another just like it, right?”
Yes, and normally a commissioned piece would be a thrill. Kylie wasn’t all that established yet and could certainly use the work. But instead of being excited, she felt . . . unsettled. Because if she agreed to the job, there’d be ongoing contact. Conversations. And here was the thing— she didn’t trust him. No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t trust herself with him. I rocked his world? Because he’d sent hers spinning and the truth was, it’d take no effort at all to once again end up glued to him at the lips. “I’m sorry, but maybe you can get Molly…” she eyed the list again ” …puppies.”
And speaking of puppies, just then from the back room came a high- pitched bark. Vinnie was up from his nap. Next came the pitter- patter of paws scram- bling. At the doorway between the shop and the showroom, he skidded to a stop and lifted a paw, poking at the empty air in front of his face.
Not too long ago, her undersized rescue pup had run face- first into a glass door. So now he went through this pantomime routine at every doorway he came to. And she did mean every doorway. Poor Vinnie had PTSD, and she was his emotional support human.
When Vinnie was thoroughly satisfied that there was no hidden glass to run into, he was off and gal- loping again, a dark brown blur skidding around the corner of the counter like a cat on linoleum. He was half French bulldog and half Muppet, and no one hadever told him that he was under a foot tall and twelve pounds soaking wet. He actually thought he was the big man on campus, and he smiled the whole way as he ran straight for Kylie, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, drool dribbling in his wake.
Heart melting, Kylie started to bend to reach for him, but he flew right by her.
Joe had squatted low, hands held out for the dog, who never so much glanced over at Kylie as he took a flying leap into Joe’s waiting arms. Arms that she knew were warm and strong and gave great hugs, dammit.
Man and pup straightened, rubbing faces together for a moment while Kylie did her best not to melt. Like most French bulldogs’, Vinnie’s expression of- ten read glum. She called it his RBF— resting bitch face. But he was actually the opposite of glum, and the mischievous, comical, amiable light in his eyes revealed that.
“Hey little man,” Joe murmured, flashing that killer smile of his at her pup, who was valiantly at- tempting to lick his face off. Joe laughed and the sound caused an answering tug from deep inside Kylie, which was maddening.
She had no idea what was up with her hormones lately, but luckily they weren’t in charge. Her brain was. And her brain wasn’t interested in Joe, excel- lent kisser or not. See, she had a long history with his kind— fast, wild, fun, and . . . dangerous. Not her own personal history, but her mother’s, and she refused to be the apple who fell too close to the tree.
“I’ll pay extra,” Joe said, still loving up on Vinnie to the dog’s utter delight. “To commission a new mirror.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” she said. “I’ve got jobs in front of you, jobs I have to finish on a schedule. A mirror I haven’t yet even started isn’t for sale.”
“Everything’s for sale,” Joe said. And how well she knew it. Shaking her head, she reached beneath the front counter, pulled a miniature tennis ball from her bag, and waved it in front of Vinnie, who began to try to swim through the air to get to the ball.
“Cheater,” Joe chastened mildly, but obligingly set Vinnie down. The dog immediately snorted in excitement and raced to Kylie, quickly going through his entire repertoire of tricks without pause, sitting, offering a paw to shake, lying down, rolling over . . .
“Cute,” Joe said. “Does he fetch?” “Of course.” But truthfully, fetch wasn’t Vinnie’s strong suit. Grunting, farting, or snoring— these were his strong suits. He also often went off the rails with no warning, zooming around a room in a frantic sprint until he started panting and then passed out. But he did not fetch, not that she’d admit it. “Vinnie, fetch,” she said hopefully and tossed the ball a few feet away.
The dog gave a bark of sheer joy and gamely took off, his short bowlegs churning up the distance. But as always, stopping was a problem and he overshot the ball. Overcorrecting to make the sharp turn, he careened right into a wall. He made a strong recovery though and went back for the ball.
Not that he returned it to Kylie. Nope. With the mini– tennis ball barely fitting in his mouth, Vinnie padded quickly into the back, presumably bringing his new treasure to his crate.
“Yeah, he’s great at fetch,” Joe said with a straight face.
“We’re still working on it,” she said just as a man came out from the back, joining them at the counter. Gib was her boss, her friend, and her very long- time crush— though he knew only about the first two since dating her boss had never seemed like a smart idea— not that he’d ever asked her out or anything. He owned Reclaimed Woods and Kylie owed a lot to him. He’d hired her on here when she’d decided to follow in her grandpa’s footsteps and become a woodworker. Gib gave her a chance to make a name for herself. He was a good guy and everything she’d ever wanted in a man— kind, patient, sweet.
In other words, Joe’s polar opposite. “Problem?” Gib asked. “Just trying to make a purchase,” Joe said, nod- ding to the mirror.
Gib looked at Kylie. “Told you it was remarkable.” It was pretty rare for Gib to hand out a compliment, and she felt her chest warm with surprise and pleasure. “Thanks.”
He nodded and squeezed her hand in his, momentarily rendering her incapacitated because…he was touching her. He never touched her. “But the mirror’s not available,” he said to Joe.
“Yeah,” Joe said, although his gaze didn’t leave Kylie’s. “I’m getting that.”
Suddenly there was an odd and unfamiliar beat of tension in the air, one Kylie wasn’t equipped to trans- late. Because her parents were teens when she was born, she’d been primarily raised by her grandpa. She’d learned unusual skills for a little girl, like how to operate a planer and joiner without losing any fingers, and how to place bets at the horse races. She’d also grown up into a quiet introvert, an old soul. She didn’t open up easily and as a result, not once in her entire life had two guys been interested in her at the same time. In fact, for long stretches of time, there’d been zero guys interested.
So to have that bone- melting kiss with Joe still messing with her head and now Gib suddenly show- ing interest after…well, years, she felt like a panicked teenager. A sweaty, panicked teenager. She jabbed a finger toward the back. “I’ve, um…gotta get to work,” she said and bailed like she was twelve years old instead of twenty- eight.
(Note from the author, Elizabeth Gross)
Taylor Swift is not affiliated with the book, Dream Accomplished: A Story of Cancer, A Mother’s Love & Taylor Swift
We are simply a family wanting to say “Thank You”.
For information about Taylor Swift, please visit her website at www.TaylorSwift.com
For Links to more of the good that Taylor Swift does for so many, please click HERE.
**All proceeds are donated to various charities. For the complete list, visit the Dream Accomplished website**
Hello, my name is Elizabeth Gross, author of Dream Accomplished. In 2012 I was diagnosed with a rare cancer. It changed my life. This book chronicles my journey and is my way of saying “Thank You”, to my daughter’s hero, singer, Taylor Swift. Paying forward the kindness shown our family, we donate all profits to fund cancer and invisible illness research and support causes. I’d never written a book before, and didn’t know I was going to write this one, but in hopes my illness journey could be of help to others, ‘Dream Accomplished: A Story of Cancer, A Mother’s Love & Taylor Swift’ just poured from my heart, filling the pages with inspiration, resources, hope, humor, tips, tears & Taylor. Thank you in advance for reading & sharing about ‘Dream Accomplished’.
I sincerely hope it is a help to you or someone you love. -Elizabeth Gross
New Apple E-Book Award for Excellence in Independent Publishing
General Non-Fiction 2015 Please Click Wording Above To Learn More.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
Cancer is a big, scary, ugly word. It creates havoc in your body. It affects your life, job, daily routine, and your family. It can break you down. If you can find a reason to fight, then FIGHT like Elizabeth Gross did. This is your body. Your life. If you give up hope, you’re not the only one affected.
Elizabeth wrote a captivating story about the struggles a person faces when diagnosed with CANCER. Cost, procedures, conflicting diagnoses, specialists, and sometimes-unsympathetic hospital staff are just a few obstacles Elizabeth and her family faced. The frustrations, fears, confusion, and pain would break most people. Depression is not unheard of. However, despite all the uncertainties she faced, Elizabeth and her husband (Marc) had a little girl who needed them….needed a smile.
I don’t know Taylor Swift personally. I know what I see and read about online or through magazines. What I learned through Dream Accomplished is that Taylor is kind, has a generous heart and made a lasting memory for a sweet young girl (Page) and her family. In the darkest of times, she gave them all a reason to smile.
So even though the Gross family’s medical journey is far from over, when they need something happy to focus on, they can remember the time Taylor Swift made a little girl’s dream come true.
Stay positive and never lose hope!
Heart Rating System:
1 (lowest) and 5 (highest)
**All proceeds to donated to various charities. For the complete list, visit the Dream Accomplished website**
Elizabeth Gross is a Wife, Mother, Cancer Battler, Invisible Illness Spoonie, Wildlife Gardener, Guest Blogger, Good News Sharer, Chocoholic, Dream Accomplisher & SwiftieMom. She’s proud to now be able to also add ‘Award-Winning Author’ to this list (Yay!!) Most days you’ll find her singing along to Taylor Swift songs as she types away on her laptop or gardens with her husband, Marc, and their daughter, Page, on their Hudson, Ohio ‘Little Lot’.
This is her first book.
For more information please visit with her at www.lotsoflifeonalittlelot.com
Dragonfly Dreams – Tracy A. Ball
Shattered, Leaf fled to the last place she wanted to be— Ebony Narpole’s world… Ebony Narpole’s arms.
Sex Demon – Cat Cotton
It all started with three simple words: ‘It’s my wife…’. Music to my ears. He had an incubus on his hands and I just so happened to be the top incubus fighter in the business.
Chronicles of Steele: The Vampire – Pauline Creeden
Reaper vs. Mrs. Dracula. Has Raven finally met her match?
Jericho -J.A. Culican
Feared and mysterious, a dragon legend. How did Jericho become the dragon shifter he is today? Check out this exclusive novella showing Jericho’s origin. Jericho is a companion novella to the USA Today Bestselling series Keeper of Dragons by J.A. Culican
A Brush with Death -N.J. Ember Marisol
Pedilla is ensnared in a dangerous world when she crosses paths with a mysterous woman called The Reaper. Warning: Contains violence and mature themes.
Rogue Recruit – Amir Lane
When a powerful witch under observation for government recruitment runs away, the only hope they have of finding him is the siren who named him.
Shifting Snow – Melissa J. Lytton
When a woman who looks just like her shows up in the middle of a major snow storm, Constance confirms what she always knew: something about her life is wrong.
The Pine Barrens -Sara R. Perez
August is just your normal small town butcher. At least he seemed normal until the bodies started showing up around the pine barrens. There may be a reason he lives so far from town.
Fangs and Fairy Dust – Joynell Schultz
After more than eighty years, Ryker finds himself back in Dubuque, hunting down a rogue vampire once again… only this time, the vampire didn’t break his heart.
Hailey’s Shadow – Lori Titus
Can Hailey see the future or is she a murderer?
While yachting off the Florida Keys, Leaf came toward Ebony waving a bottle of sunblock.
“What do you want me to do with that?”
“Eat it. What do you think I want you to do? My back.” She presented him with said back.
While she couldn’t see him, he admired her blue one-piece suit. “You don’t have enough back to do. But, I’ll fix it.” He flicked his finger and her suit became a low cut, Mint-green, two-piece. “Hand me the lotion.”
Leaf gave him the bottle.
He poured a liberal amount into his palm. When he looked up, she was wearing a fire-engine-red, string bikini. “Is that enough back for you?” She scooted onto the bench, directly between his outstretched legs and smiled over her shoulder.
Ebony caught his breath and said, “Careful, Harper. If you push me another round, you’ll be in a thong.”
She moved her hair out of his way. “So will you.”
He looked down to see that she turned his trunks into a pair of mint-green Speedos.
Ebony paid her back by taking his time applying the sunblock. He turned the application into a massage. It was a good excuse to touch her. He wanted to touch her. Narpoles did whatever they wanted.
Leaf knew what he was doing. She punished him by allowing it. Yeah. That will teach him.
Ebony was done rubbing in sunblock long before he was done touching her. Having no other excuse, he decided, he didn’t need any. He pulled Leaf back against him and was instantly invigorated by her warmth, her scent.
Leaf stiffened. He had a six-pack and v-lines.
“Cassenia is a half million miles that way,” he pointed. “We’re all by ourselves in the middle of the ocean. There isn’t even a seagull around to see. Who is going to know, Leaf?” One hand encircled her waist, while the other fingered the bouncy strands of her hair.
Leaf relaxed. She thought about the chest she was lounging against. It felt like it was chiseled from granite. “Nobody. Because this isn’t real.”
She rubbed the muscles in his arm and practically purred. Just because it isn’t real, doesn’t mean it isn’t fun.
Tracy’s family is blended from three distinct cultures. Over the years, she has opened her home to foster children, drug addicts, AIDS victims and anyone who needed an assist. She has an equal number of liberal and conservative friends. She knows people who have committed murder and she knows people who know the Pope.
Which is why she writes sweet stories about tough love.
Remember your first crush? How your heart raced and your cheeks flushed whenever you saw him? Jessie Baxter does, and it’s happening again. Ten years ago, despite her best efforts, Lee Archer wanted to be just friends. Now, he wants more, but Jessie’s still recovering from a psycho ex-husband. Can she learn to trust again and make her first crush into her last love?
Note from Elizabeth McKenna: “There are some serious subjects covered including drinking, homosexuality, AIDS, and abuse. The heat level is fairly low with only a few love scenes. There is also some swearing.”
Jessie flipped on the foyer light and her nerves relaxed until she saw the rug at the bottom of the stairs. It was askew. Her eyes darted over the space in front of her. Everything else was in its proper place. Besides the inability to pick faithful husbands, she and her mother shared the rarely appreciated trait of compulsive neatness.
She thought back to when she had left the house earlier. Maybe in her haste to meet Sarah, her foot had slid the rug out of place as she came down the stairs. But she would have straightened it. Unless she didn’t notice . . . but she would have noticed . . . because that’s how she was.
She inched into the kitchen and picked up the phone. She’d call the police and ask them to search the house. Because of a cockeyed rug? Even in her paranoid state, she knew it would sound crazy. Their first question would be, “How much did you have to drink tonight, Ms. Baxter?”
She shook her head. For all the bravado she showed in front of Lee, here she was acting like a scared twelve-year-old, alone for the first time while her parents were on a date night. Her mom had offered to cancel her trip to London when Jessie told her the date of the class reunion, but Jessie had insisted she go. Since retirement, these trips had become her mom’s main source of entertainment.
She rummaged in her purse until her fingers found her pepper spray. With the canister at arm’s length, she circled each room on the first floor, testing the locks on the windows. Everything seemed in order. She let out a breath and grasped the banister leading upstairs with her free hand while her foot straightened the rug.
The steps to the second floor creaked under Jessie’s weight. She shuddered at the eerie feeling the empty house gave off. Still clutching the pepper spray, she checked the windows upstairs before collapsing on the bed in her childhood room. The house was too big for one person. She didn’t know how her mom stood it. Maybe tomorrow she’d move to Sarah’s. They could have a slumber party like old times.
Old times. Lee Archer. Wow. Her smile turned into a yawn. Something itched at the back of her mind, but after seven hours in a car and a few more in the bars, she gave into heavy eyelids and fell into an uneasy sleep.
At three in the morning, her eyes flew open and she clutched the comforter to her chin.
Underwear. A pair of lacy, black underwear hung from the top rail of the desk’s chair. No way in hell had she done that.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
First Crush, Last Love is divided up into three sections: Part I, Senior Year (1983-1094), Part II, Marriage Interrupted (1998-1991), and Part III, 10-Year Reunion (October 1994). In each of these sections, the reader will find characters and/or their circumstances that are very relatable.
Section I: If you’ve attended high school, it’s inevitable you’ve seen or been a part of the drama accompanied with it. For most, there’s that one special friend who’s stood by your side, had your back, or lent an ear when the drama gets to be too much. Break-ups, unrequited love, crushes, fights, dances, and parties are common happenings in all high schools so these topic areas will touch home with many, if not all, readers. A few sensitive areas are briefly discussed as well. Depression, abusive parent, drunken parents, and suicide attempts are never subjects people wish would mark their homes because these things occur. Elizabeth McKenna wanted us to see every aspect of a teenager’s life, the good and the bad. Realistically, everything she wrote about is part of many young adult’s lives. These real life concerns are what connects a reader to a character(s), plot, and/or story.
Section II: In this area, Elizabeth McKenna focused on the relationships of the Lee and Jessie after they graduated. Jessie married a man (Billy) who became unstable, abusive. He was already an ass before they married but things only tuned more volatile. Thankfully, she got the courage to divorce him. For those living in her situation, I hope you will find the courage to distance yourself from the combustible and unhealthy relationship. Jessie suffered through unnecessary mental and physical abuse but she also showed it’s never too late to take back your life.
Section III: High school reunions…. they have a way of bringing out the worst in people. However, sometimes, you might find yourself rekindling a lost friendship or something more. Like with the other sections, there was drama, abuse, and most importantly… love. Elizabeth McKenna showed us that we must never give up and when real love stands before you…. fight for it, embrace it and never accept anything less because everyone deserves the best in life.
Elizabeth McKenna thank you for showing people they don’t have to stand by and allow themselves to be victimized. Men, women, children, straight, or gay…. we all deserve love and a happily ever after.
Heart Rating System:
1 (lowest) and 5 (highest)
Though Elizabeth McKenna’s love of books reaches back to her childhood, she had never read romance novels until one Christmas when her sister gave her the latest bestseller by Nora Roberts. She was hooked from page one (actually, she admits it was the first love scene).
She had always wanted to write fiction, so she combined her love of history, romance and a happy ending to write Cera’s Place and Venice in the Moonlight. Her short story, The Gypsy Casts a Spell, is available for free on her website http://elizabethmckenna.com/. She hopes you will enjoy her first contemporary romance novel, First Crush Last Love, as much as others have enjoyed her historical romances.
Elizabeth lives in Wisconsin with her understanding husband, two beautiful daughters, and a sassy Labrador. When she isn’t writing, working, or being a mom, she’s sleeping.
HOWDY and welcome, Petie McCarty!
(Petie) I would love to and thank you for allowing me to spend time with your Kam’s Place readers today and to share my new release, Betting on Cinderella.
I have a Bachelor’s degree in Zoology, which was no help at all when I decided to write romance novels as a second career. However, several unique assignments during my early career as a state biologist—which included surveying many Florida lakes and streams by airboat—provided background for my very first release, Everglades.
Everything that happened to the heroine in Everglades during her safari through the River of Grass happened to me at some time during my career: the bug storm, swimming with gators, the leeches, the heart-stopping airboat maneuvers. Everything, that is, except getting stranded overnight with a hunky airboat guide. I never got one of those, so I wrote my own.
Photographer Kayli Heddon has been given the biggest assignment of her career — a photo essay on the Everglades Restoration the Florida governor intends to use in his re-election campaign. A special airboat safari is arranged, so Kayli can get her pictures. What she doesn’t count on is being stranded alone in the Everglades with her handsome and enigmatic airboat guide. Kayli is forced to learn some tough lessons. Trust means everything in the dangerous River of Grass, and a skilled partner can make all the difference in your survival.
I was lucky enough to spend most of my career working for the Walt Disney World Resort. What could be more magical than driving by Cinderella’s Castle on your way to work every day? I came late to the world of publishing and had never considered writing until about ten years ago. I think it was living in the heart of the theme park entertainment industry that constantly tweaked my imagination and made me want to write. I had the fun of working in the land of fairy tales by day and creating my own romantic fairy tales by night. I eventually said good-bye to my wonderful “day” job to write my stories full-time.
At present, I live—and write—on the beautiful Cumberland Plateau with my horticulturist husband, a spoiled-rotten English springer spaniel addicted to green olives stuffed with pimento, and a talkative Nanday conure named Sassy who made a cameo appearance in Angel to the Rescue.
…a cozy mystery with a touch of romantic suspense from the Mystery Angel Romance series — with an angel hidden in every book. It’s up to you to figure out the angel’s identity…
Police negotiator, Lt. Jake Dillon, walked away from his fiancée Rachel when she suddenly balked at having kids. His kids. Yet as the hostage crisis erupts, Rachel calls Jake first. Now he has a choice to make — stand back and wait for the cavalry to save Rachel or step in and try to save her himself. Time is running out, and Jake may be their only chance for rescue.
Unless Rachel’s little angel-spying client is telling the truth…
(Petie) This may sound weird, but I see movies that run in my head. If the beginning, middle, and end of the story are all there, then that’s the next book I write. When the movie starts running, I speed-write scene bullets, so I can begin the sequel whenever I’m ready. The bullets become my outline.
Thus, I’ve never really suffered full-blown writer’s block, but I suffer from my own viral strain that I call “climax block.” Now doesn’t that sound scary? For me, it induces a very real panic that occurs with every novel I’ve written to date. I get to the big climactic scene at the end of the book, and I just can’t seem to get it on the page.
I know what must happen from the movie in my head and even which characters should participate, but I can’t seem to get the action sequences to formulate on the page. Therein lies the panic. My particular block strain lasts from one to three weeks, which is the amount of time to elapse before the initial action sequence in the movie finally starts to run in my head. Thankfully, the movie has always appeared, but the shreds of panic never completely dissipate. The ever present worry… what if the movie never shows?
(Petie) Marketing, marketing, and more marketing. Social media rules the world now and authors need to have a solid place in the various online venues if they expect to have successful book sales. A lot of a book’s advertising and promotion is trial and error. What works for one author or book may not work for another. Every book is different, but perseverance is the key. Marketing is like trying to get published, never ever give up.
(Petie) I write full-time from home now, but when I first started writing, I was a bit nervous about letting anyone in the workplace know I was writing novels on the side. Huge mistake. My co-workers got really excited about my first book and ended up being some of my biggest supporters and celebrated every release with me. It’s hard to know how co-workers will react, so it’s an individual decision for a writer whether to share your new venture or not.
(Kam) I’m so thrilled you have a supportive team at your back!
(Petie) Easiest question of all since I’m a voracious reader, and I love a mix of fiction. So here is my mix of authors:
(Kam) Oooo, I just found me some new authors to check out. Thank you!
(Petie) Of course, I would want to choose Betting on Cinderella. *grin*
If my casting were fortuitous as well, then Chris Hemsworth—I can’t help it…I’m a huge Thor fan—would be Garrett Tucker. I mean, what landscaper wouldn’t have great biceps? And innocent-eyed Alexandra Daddario would make a lovely Andi Ryan.
(Petie) Right at this moment, I am finishing up Par for Cinderella, book three in the Cinderella Romances series. Billionaire Aidan Cross, who had a big part in the first two books of the series, insisted on having his own story. Aidan visits quaint Cypress Key, Florida—the future site for one of his world-famous golf resorts that no one in the small town wants. He promptly gets arrested for booting the mayor’s obnoxious son into the marina.
After that, I’ll start lining up my movie scene-bullets for Earl Away, the next book in my new Lords in Time series. The Earl of Dexter didn’t want to be left out and begged to be in the sequel to Duke du Jour, which released a few weeks ago. Like the Cinderella Romances, this series is comprised of standalone stories that have returning characters.
Jared Langley, present-day Duke of Reston, tumbles into an abandoned fountain on his ducal estate and travels back in time to the year 1816. There, Reston servants and local villagers think him a dead ringer for his namesake and rakehell ancestor—the seventh Duke of Reston, gone missing at the Battle of Waterloo. Unfortunately, Seven got mixed up with French spies out to assassinate the Duke of Wellington, and an unwary Jared ends up in their crosshairs.
Lady Ariana Hart has loved Jared Langley, the seventh Duke of Reston, since she was twelve years old, until the night the rogue broke her heart. Given up for dead, her rakish neighbor makes a miraculous return from Waterloo—only Jared shows up a changed man and reignites all the feelings Ariana had long ago buried.
Jared is in a race against time. He must waylay the suspicions of his quirky servants and neighbors, get to Wellington before the French spies do, fix his fountain—before Seven shows up—so Jared has a way home, and definitely not fall in love with the irresistible Lady Ariana.
(Petie) All of my books are available on Amazon, and all but the Cinderella Romances [because they are in Kindle Unlimited] are available at Barnes & Noble.
The Mystery Angel Romances each have an angel hidden in the plot whose identity is not revealed until the finale, unless the reader figures it out first. The stories can be read in any order since there are no returning characters, only an angel in each one.
The Cinderella Romances books have returning characters, so readers may want to start with Book 1 although all the stories read as standalones. Same for the Lords in Time series.
(Petie) I’d love to hear from readers at any of my social media links:
(Petie) I just want to thank Kam’s Place and her loyal readers for allowing me to spend time with them today and share stories about my books. I hope you’ll give the Cinderella Romances series a try. Happy reading or writing to all — your pick!
~~ Closing remarks ~~
I think after reading Petie’s interview, you’ll have no problem finding something to read for a long while.
I’ve enjoyed my time with Petie and I also enjoyed Betting on Cinderella.
Please keep scrolling down to get a glimpse inside the book and to see my feelings on this romancic tale.
Garrett Tucker inherits his grandfather’s casino empire and steps into the reclusive billionaire’s shoes as the “Prince of Vegas.” His first act is to buy a bankrupt casino in Biloxi. When he discovers embezzling in his new operation, Garrett goes undercover. His prime suspect is the new finance supervisor—the spitfire brunette who stole his heart at first sight.
Andi Ryan moves to Biloxi to care for her godmother and takes a job as finance supervisor for the renovated Bayou Princess casino. She discovers someone is skimming from the till and starts her own investigation, worried she will be blamed for the theft when the new owner discovers her godmother has a gambling addiction.
A rival Vegas competitor has sent a spy in to ruin the Bayou Princess, and Garrett and Andi are forced to work together to prove her innocence and discover the identity of their casino spy.
Andi Tells Garrett She’s a Virgin
“I want to make love to you.”
Garrett mentally kicked himself. He had gone and scared her.
Too much. Too soon.
But he couldn’t make himself move. He could lie here forever with Andi in his arms.
She wriggled from his grasp to sit up. “Um . . .”
She looked too uncertain.
He was okay with, “Not now, but maybe later.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Good thing he was sitting down. The jangle of fear that hit him could have knocked his knees out from under him.
“Can’t or won’t?” he forced out. No maybes on this one.
What the hell? Can’t and won’t?
All his uncertainties flooded back. Flora had said Andi and Peters were just friends. Was that friends with benefits? And what about that damn Drakos pawing her last week? No, he wouldn’t let those doubts crowd them here on the couch.
“Too soon?” he tried.
“Partly.” She looked away, and his heart sank amongst the growing heap of doubts.
“There’s someone else,” he said flatly, working to keep his expression blank and the hurt at bay.
She met his gaze square on then, no doubt trying to muscle her courage. “There’s something I should tell you.”
“I’m—” She exhaled hard. “—no good at it.”
What? Is that all?
He fought back a grin of pure joy. “I’ll give you lessons.” He pulled her back for another kiss.
She shoved at his chest. “No. I don’t think I should.”
She flinched at his expression, and he worked to smooth his scowl.
“Go ahead. Spit it out.” Even he didn’t like his tone. “You’re sleeping with someone else, right?”
He should have done his homework before he went off half-cocked with all the flowers and balloons, trying to woo her.
“No, and I should slap you for that, suggesting I’m loose enough to go out with you while sleeping with someone else.”
“Then what the hell is it?” he shouted, forgetting all about Flora at the back of the house.
“I’ve never done it before!” she shouted back.
“What? Slapped someone?”
“No, you jerk. Slept with someone.” This, she didn’t shout.
He froze, right down to his heartbeat, and stared at her bright-pink cheeks. Could it be? Was she? A virgin?
“Holy smokes,” he wheezed.
She stared at her untouched glass of wine. “I’m not saying you and I will never,” she said softly.
Relief, warm and desperate, allowed his muscles to finally move. He gently traced the line of her cheek with his finger, a lump forming in his throat at the touch of something so rare and priceless.
“Glad to hear that.” He brushed his lips across hers, light as a whisper. Once. “My little sweetheart.” Twice. “My precious—” Three times. Always a charm.
“You’re not mad?”
Those big blue eyes stared up at him with an innocence that made his too-experienced heart ache with emotion.
Should he tell her he wanted to go outside and howl his joy at the moon? To yell to the world what a lucky son of a gun he was? His Andi would be his Andi—proprietary, like his stock portfolio. All his. No one else. A primal sense of possessiveness overwhelmed him.
“No, sweetheart, not mad. Glad,” he managed, then tugged her close and let his kiss show her exactly how he felt.
“When you’re ready,” he said against her lips. “Only when you’re ready.”
He had finally said and done the right thing, for she grabbed his shirt and laid an eye-crossing kiss on him.
(review request submitted by the author for an honest critique)
A Godmother who’s goal is it to try and make an orphaned girl’s life a bit brighter.
These are a few similarities to the famous Cinderella storyline. In both stories, there is a blue dress and a HEA with the damsel finding her one true love.
However in Betting on Cinderella, the storyline contains things the original never touched upon: embezzlers, casinos, and mafia looking villains.
In each storyline, the good guys prevailed BUT in Betting on Cinderella readers will be surprised at how far Flora Merrywether will go to ensure Andi’s has her own fairy tale ending.
BTW: Cute name selection when deciding upon Flora Merrywether. As an avid viewer of Disney movies, I recognize Sleeping Beauty’s magical guardians/protectors’ namesakes. You might’ve spelled ‘Merryweather’ slightly different but I see your inspiration for the name choice loud and clear.
For the plot in Betting on Cinderella, there’s so much going on. I knew we were in for a big surprise. Heck, I figured one out from the start. However, as the final chapters unfolded, I realized I only solved part of the puzzle. For that, my score, my feelings on the overall story increased by one point.
Heart Rating System
1 (lowest) and 5 (highest)
“I hate you. I never want to see you again.”
Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville—at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade, ring in my ears every time a townsperson brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again.
Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons—sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer. But Grant is off limits because he knows too much about my past.
But I’m drawn to him. That damn uniform of his doesn’t hurt either. It’ll be my downfall. I know it.
What’s one night of sex going to hurt . . . right?
I’ve always loved Emmy Reeves.
That’s why I’m shocked to see her all these years later. The shy girl I once knew is all grown up.
Adventurous and full of life, she owns my heart now, just as much as she did back then. Convincing her of that is a whole different story.
I’ll give her the one night she asks for—like that’s a hardship—but when it comes to letting her walk away after, she has another thing coming. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go this time without a fight.
Songwriter Dylan McCoy has been burned.
By her boyfriend she found in her bed . . . with someone else.
By the contract she signed that obligates her to work with him until the songs for his new album are complete.
By her agent when she asked Dylan to keep their breakup on the down-low.
When she finds herself in Sunnyville, she refuses to let her new roommate burn her too. Still . . . a rebound has never looked so good.
That’s her first thought when she sees firefighter Grady Malone.
Sexy. Charismatic. Unapologetic. He’s a man who carries his own scars—the ones on his back, the survivor’s guilt on his soul, and the fear in his heart.
When an unexpected visitor puts their roommate status to the test, will their undeniable attraction burn out, or will they both take a chance and play with fire?
~~ BOOK THREE ~~
Expected Release: May 28, 2018
How about a hot in-flight LifeFlight Medic? Greyson’s book is coming in spring 2018!
**Sorry, no purchase links at this time.**
~~ BONUS READ! ~~
Control is something Desi Whitman abhors. Why live life in black and white perfection when you can messily color outside the lines?
But when she comes face to face with SWAT officer Reznor Mayne, he’s about to show her just how good control can feel.
**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you’ll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.
A mom of three, she plots her novels in between school runs and soccer practices, more often than not with her laptop in tow.
Since publishing her first book in 2013, Kristy has sold over one million copies of her books across sixteen different countries and has landed on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestsellers lists over twenty-five times. Her Driven trilogy (Driven, Fueled, and Crashed) is currently being adapted for film by Passionflix with the first movie slated to release in the summer of 2018.
She recently released a two book, sports romance series, The Player and The Catch. Cuffed is the first book in her new Everyday Heroes trilogy. This three-book series will be about three brothers who are emergency responders, the jobs that call to them, and the women who challenge them. The remaining standalones in the series are Combust (January 29th) and Cockpit (Spring 2018).
She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media or sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all her latest releases and sales: (here).