The start of school in my district looms in the very near future, and I’m trying to transition from Summer mentality to Subbing mode. Amazingly enough, this year will be my fourth year as a Substitute Teacher…an anniversary shared with my career as an author/illustrator of children’s picture books.
In truth, the latter exists solely because of the former.
Before I became a Substitute Teacher, I’d already been a published author of Sci-fi Romance with two novels under my belt. I was working diligently to establish my brand and promote my books. I carried business cards with me everywhere, but I also special-ordered a phone case with my first book cover on it. What better way to begin a conversation about my romance books than to have someone notice my phone case!
Unfortunately, the only people who noticed my sexy phone case were elementary students I was substitute teaching. Ack! Big-time F****-Up! I depended on my phone’s alarm to keep me mindful of subject transitions, recess, lunchtimes, etc. And thought nothing of the instrument of my timekeeping…until kiddos started to comment.
A few “that man’s neck is really long,” “I can see that man’s chest,” and “Who is Ava Cuvay and why is she on your phone” was all it took. I snatched a little story bobbing around my head and wrote it down, then I drew pictures to go with it. I ended up with Slow Squirrels for Old Dog, a sweet first-grade level book to honor my 14-year-old dog who had passed away. Not the most cheerful idea for a book, but it was a cathartic step in my personal grief, and the death of a beloved pet is something any owner deals with at some point. Loss isn’t something we can or should pretend never happens, and I’ve found young children are, for the most part, resilient and pragmatic on the topic.
So! Children’s book published and new, school-age-appropriate phone cover in place, I thought I could leave it at that and get back to my Romance books. But the interest and enthusiasm from the students kept pulling me back to make more. This last June, I published my third children’s book, Soaposaurus Rex Versus Poop Ninja. A special request for a friend’s 7-year old son, it’s an action-packed, humorous story to encourage handwashing.
When I attend author signings, my three children’s books are as popular as my romance novels. When I substitute teach, they are a great starting point to talk about writing and drawing and encouraging students to pursue their dreams.
Four years later, I’m so grateful I F****’d Up and neglected to consider what was on my phone case that first year of Subbing!
**Giveaway**
Because we’re talking children’s books, comment with your favorite children’s book for a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card!
About the Author
Ava Cuvay w/a Tippi Hickey: Tippi lives in central Indiana with her hubby, kiddos, kitties, and a love of all pets furry, fuzzy, feathery, and scaly!
What happens at a fertility clinic stays at a fertility clinic…unless there’s an accidental switch-a-roo…
Successful author Melanie Jane decided after a very public divorce that she would prove to the world, especially her critiques, that she didn’t need a man to make her dreams come true. So, she wrote a best seller and used a fertility clinic to get pregnant. An accidental switch-a-roo left Melanie curious…who was the father of her baby?
Coop Dawson was still grieving the loss of his twin brother when some lady showed up at the family ranch and announced that she was pregnant by Cade, impossible since he’d been gone for over a year. Coop didn’t have the patience for scam artists. He told her exactly how he felt then made her hit the road. Yet, after reading a letter from a fertility clinic, he realized she’d been telling the truth. Now he needed to turn things around fast before he lost the chance at knowing Cade’s child.
Sometimes tragedy can bring a family closer…and bring unexpected gifts.
Coop needed to step up for the first time in his life and do the right thing for everyone. He promised his brother in a late-night prayer that he’d take care of the child—but what Coop didn’t realize he was already falling for Melanie and he couldn’t imagine life without her. Will she learn to trust him? Or will he screw up every chance he’d been given?
Forbidden love with an ex-fiancé’s brother will have townsfolk of Dove Grey talking. But she either went rogue or lost her heart again.
It had been two years since Cade Dawson passed away from leukemia, but his presence remained strong in small town Dove Grey, Texas. Coming home was probably too soon for many folks, but Annika Tinder hoped people could put the rumors and assumptions aside so that she could open her dream spa in her childhood home. She’d grown a lot since she first left—had a thicker skin now, and she’d need it. So what if people thought she had a sex-capade with the sexiest Dawson brother? She was willing to face the fire to get what she wanted.
Cross Dawson had a plan.
He’d steer clear of Annika so that townsfolk wouldn’t target her with their harsh speculations, and he wouldn’t be tempted by those old feelings he thought he’d buried. The task proved harder than he anticipated. He’d lost himself once—twice, three times—with her, but he couldn’t do it again, not when he had to honor his late brother’s memory. That was the respectable thing to do, right? So then why did every path and sign lead back to her?
Will Annika’s desire for an old flame, and new start, keep her in town? Or will she be chased off a second time? The sexy Dawson brothers and their wild romances keep the townsfolk of Dove Grey, Texas talking. From secret babies, forbidden love, to broken hearts…they’ll keep readers talking too.
She smiled. “I can’t decide if the sour face is because I make you nervous or my food gave you indigestion.”
He dug his spoon into dessert but didn’t feel much up to eating anything more. “The food was delicious.”
“Ah, so I’m making you nervous?” She rolled her tongue along the plump center of her bottom lip.
Yeah, that didn’t help matters in the southern region of his belt. “No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know.”
Her eyes widened and again he couldn’t get past how bright her eyes were. She ran her finger through the condensation on her bottle. “It’s me and I get it.” The higher octave in her tone told him she enjoyed teasing him.
“I just have a lot on my mind I suppose,” he admitted. He couldn’t admit that she was nine-tenths of the trouble occupying his mind. He watched her slender fingers pick up a berry and pop it into her mouth, not taking her eyes off him for one second.
“It’s because I made it clear how I feel. I thought men liked when women were aggressive and made it clear what they wanted.”
“Aggressive?”
“You know, earlier. I feel like we’re denying the truth blasting like a neon sign. We’re sexually attracted to each other.”
Good thing he was sitting because she’d have knocked him right off his boots. He needed to tread carefully down the path where this conversation was headed. He didn’t want to lie to her but telling her the truth could land them both smack dab in a world of distress.
Truth was, they were sexually attracted to each other. But it was more than just a need for sex. He liked her company. He found himself searching for her while he worked, which meant he was behind. Cross didn’t like being behind.
It was mostly her fault. She’d done nothing but flirt with him since he’d started work that morning. He wasn’t the smartest when it came to women and their feminine, magical ways, but there was nothing subtle in the way she looked at him like she wanted to suck the sin right out of his bone marrow. Sucking was always a good thing.
It was a big problem while he was having to keep up with renovations though.
“Annika…”
“Yes, Cross?” She batted her lashes. She wasn’t about to make this easy.
“I didn’t come in here expecting…shit.” He blew out a long, agonizing breath.
“You didn’t come in here expecting shit?” She lifted a brow quizzically.
He’d never had a woman turn him inside out so easily. “Annika—”
“Yes, we’ve established that my name is Annika.” Her wicked smile hit him in his gut.
“My communication stinks, so don’t make this harder than it is already.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look—”
“Oh no. Any sentence that starts with ‘look’ never ends well.” She plucked a strawberry from her bowl and bit into it.
“I think you’re enjoying this,” he said with meaning.
“You just seem…well, hot. Do you need a fan?”
“No.”
She stood and sashayed over to him, crawling into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let’s not fight this any longer. I’m all in. How about you?”
God, what was wrong with him? His dick was hard and he was having trouble swallowing. He’d never been this affected by any woman.
“You’re sweating profusely,” she said with a smile.
“I need to say something,” he croaked.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“Things are a bit…hard.”
“Oh? Am I too close?”
“I’m burning up.” He tugged at the neckline of his shirt.
“Fine. Say what you have to say and I’ll listen.” She stood and a frown developed over her sweet mouth.
He stood too, mainly because sitting became too unbearable. Cross wanted to say “screw it”, grab her up into his arms, and whisk her upstairs. Unfortunately, why did he feel like he’d be betraying his family? Betraying Cade? Could he trust Annika? What if he gave in to his feelings and she left again?
Cross stopped near the edge of the flower bed, debating his next words. When he finally had his head in order, he turned and snapped his mouth shut. How the hell had she managed to get near him so fast? She was now only a few feet from him.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“A lot.”
“Are you okay?” She pressed her hand against his forehead. “You’re sweating even more and you feel a little warm.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look a little swollen.” Concern covered her expression.
Why did his throat feel sore and his lips tingle?
He was beginning to believe that maybe he wasn’t okay.
“Cross, are you having an allergic reaction?”
“I’m not having an allergic reaction.” His stomach ached and his skin itched.
“I know a reaction when I see one.”
“I’m okay. I just want to talk to you about…” Then he felt a tingle in his tongue that quickly spread. He saw her squint and then her eyes rounded in shock.
“Are you feeling prickly and flushed?”
“Yes, but we need to talk. I have something I need to get off my chest.” Ah hell. “Why is it so damn hot?”
Small Town Romance
For those who don’t know me, I’m Rhonda Lee Carver. I’m a bestselling author of contemporary western and romantic suspense, but love to write other genres too. I enjoy stories that keep readers laughing, crying, gripping the edge of their seats, and screaming all in one book…like riding a virtual roller coaster. Whether creating sexy cowboys or tough guys, or sassy, independent heroines, readers are sure to find strong, powerful, memorable characters that are relatable.
By day, I tap into my creative, fictional world but at some point, I transition back into reality where I’m a volleyball-stands cheerleader, homework virtuoso (at least, I think so), amateur nurse to skinned knees, a mediocre chef with some awesome microwave skills, pet-guru (all the strays show up at our house), and a Jackie of all trades for my kids who are the loves of my life. Yoga and chocolate keep me sane. Hallmark movies require cuddling up with tissues because I can be emotional. I add a sprinkle of my own real-life adventures in each story I spin because a little truth never hurt anyone. I wouldn’t give up one thing in my crazy, chaotic, ever-amusing life, except, except I might do magic tricks for the bungalow on the beach I’ve had my eye on (GOALS).
Writing for me is like falling in love and finding a new best friend over and over again. My characters will find a place inside your heart too.
On Inspiration…
I’m asked a lot where I get the ideas for stories. Finding ideas has never been a problem. I have a storage bank inside of my head overflowing with storylines. I do, however, find hurdles when I’m creating unique characters. After writing one hundred books, I seem to gravitate toward clone characters. They have similar physical and behavioral traits. So, I’ve had to work to make each one exceptional and relatable. I like to create characters from real-life people. Those who triumph when they could easily give up. Like the man with a disability who walks each day on the highway. I’ll see him pushing his cart or carrying a bag of groceries. Sometimes in the rain. Other times in the sweltering heat. He refuses any help. Also, the homeless man and his dog who I see frequently wandering the streets of a nearby town. He has a story to tell—a tragic story of drug abuse and a childhood marked with neglect. A friend of a friend had passed away from Leukemia. He didn’t have children because of chemotherapy. His wife says that her one regret was not having a child with him while he was well. I have intermingled their true stories with the fictional lives of my characters in The Brothers of Dove Grey, and another story I’m currently working on. If you haven’t already, I hope you’ll check out my books. With love, Rhonda Lee.
It takes a snake? I can already imagine your eyebrows and frowns in disbelief as you respond, “To do what?” Like it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a snake to create community. What kind of community you talkin’ ’bout, Willis? The enmity placed between humanity and snakes in Genesis 3:15 is still real. What kind of community could be created by something so villainous as a snake? When I saw one crawling along the wall this week in my backyard I cringed. Yuk and yikes! I breathed a sigh of relief when it slithered away to the front yard. I raked the grounds to make sure there weren’t any others hiding there.
Two days later as I went to get the mail, I noticed a neighbor standing stock-still in front of his garage holding a rake and staring very pointedly at something I couldn’t see on the far side of his car. Sure enough, it was a snake. He didn’t want to kill it because he wasn’t sure what kind it was. “Bull snakes are good snakes,” he said, but if it were a rattler he’d have to kill it. We couldn’t see a rattle on the tail, but then we wondered if it might be a baby without a rattle yet. I stood in solidarity with my neighbor and stared at the slimy intruder. What to do, what to do?
At that moment my husband—traveling to visit family—called to say goodnight. I told him what was happening, and he said, “Call Spence. He knows all about snakes.” Spence is a good friend and fellow church member. I took a picture and messaged it to him. He called right back and said it was a baby king snake. Definitely non-venomous. Spence said you can tell venomous snakes from non-venomous ones by the shape of their pupils. Venomous snakes have slit pupils like cat’s eyes. Non-venomous ones have round pupils like dogs. I don’t think my cat Scully would appreciate the comparison. My neighbor and I peered at the photo and agreed the eyes looked round. Spence said he’d be over in fifteen minutes to take the snake back to the desert.
By now my neighbor’s wife had joined us. She helped trap the snake beneath a bucket. We introduced ourselves—me, Anna, he and she, John and Jeanette. We shared how long we’d lived on the block, where we were from, our experiences, and lack thereof, with snakes and our mutual hatred of the creatures.
Spence arrived, picked the little guy up and told us how it could grow to six or eight feet long. Shudder. He put it in a pillowcase and assured us it would be happier in the desert. John, Jeanette, and I wholeheartedly agreed. Spence drove off, John and Jeanette went back into their snake-free house, and I continued on to pick up the mail. It took a snake to create community between us.
So for a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, share in the comments about an encounter where you got to know a neighbor better.
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.
Excerpt from One Breath Away…
On the rise overlooking Harvest Home, Banker Judah Little sat, his mouth stretched in horror.
“My God, what’s wrong with her?” He stared transfixed at the cabin, his hands clasped and shaking.
“No doubt reliving the torment of death.” A grudging smile graced Judge Aaron “Hangman” Denton’s face. “No one who cheats the hangman enjoys any kind of peace
After hundreds of pronouncements and hundreds of executions, he’d seen it all. He preferred these civil hangings to the military executions by firing squad he’d ordered during the War of Northern Aggression. Bullets brought death so quickly, he always felt cheated. But a hanging…His smile broadened. There was so much more to enjoy when there was a hanging.
The snap of the neck.
The sway of the body.
The discharge of the bowels.
He tongued the snuff in his cheek and spat the brown liquid into the dirt. The scents of sage and tobacco laced each breath he took.
Mary Hamilton had been his only failure. Crime deserved punishment. What difference did being a woman make? He’d condemned her to hang. Damn interfering crowd. And where in hell had that horseman come from? She’d be dead now but for him and those bleeding-heart busybodies.
Pirates, Puritans, propaganda, and princes—pieces of the puzzle in the whirlwind romance between a beautiful jelly maker and a mysterious castaway.
Up until my thirties, I traveled a great deal, living in many countries with amenities that many would consider below standard. So it wasn’t until I married and settled down in an old farmhouse with an acre of land that I could indulge my fantasy of growing my own food. We planted apple, plum, peach, fig, hazelnut, and cherry trees; gooseberries, strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries; all kinds of vegetables, including an ill-fated attempt to grow artichokes; and finally, lots and lots of herbs. I built a formal herb garden and planted thyme, lovage, rosemary, chives, tarragon, sage, and lemon balm. The one thing I couldn’t get to grow was mint. Yes, the gardeners among you will scoff, but it took me years to get a plot to flourish. When it did, I had to do something or it would take over the entire acre.
So I called upon my sister-in-law, to whom Whirlwind Romance is dedicated. She directed me to an old recipe for mint jelly. Once the mint invasion was under control and I’d mastered the technique, I spent whole summers working up recipes for herb jellies. It was great fun. Despite the fact that I’m not really fond of jelly, they made excellent Christmas gifts.
When I started writing Whirlwind Romance, I thought about what my heroine, Lacey Delahaye, would do for a living. She lives alone in Florida, her one grown son. What could she do? I thought of the innumerable ecosystems in Florida, from pine uplands, to coastal plains, to palm hammocks—all of which are host to many wild fruits, most of which can be made into jelly. Ah hah! She’d be a jelly maker.
For fun, I added the recipes to each chapter. I hope you enjoy them as much as you do Lacey and Armand’s love story.
Whirlwind Romance
In the aftermath of a hurricane, Lacey Delahaye finds herself marooned on an island off the Florida coast with a mysterious man. Before he can confess his identity, they are kidnapped and taken to a tiny island in the western Caribbean. In a story laced with adventure and romance, Lacey encounters pirates, power-mad ideologues, and palace intrigue, not to mention the advances of three men, only one of whom she loves.
One of Lacey’s Recipes: Passionfruit Jelly
Passionfruit is a woody vine with strange, yet beautiful flowers. It grows in humid tropical lowlands. Ripening in the fall, the round fruit about the size of a plum is either golden or dark purple.
Passionfruit Jelly
5 lbs passionfruit for 2 cups juice
2 oz. water
Halve the fruits and scoop out filling. In a blender, quick pulse for a couple of seconds. Strain the juice. Repeat procedure 2-3 times, thinning with water if necessary, until juice is clear.
2 cups juice
1 ¾ cups water
7 ½ cups sugar
6 oz. (2 packets) liquid pectin
Combine juice, water and sugar in a large pot. Bring to a full, rolling boil over high heat, stirring constantly. Add liquid pectin. Remove from the heat, skim off any foam and pour into hot, sterilized jars leaving 1/4 inch space between the jelly and rim of the jar. Upend jars and leave 5 minutes, then turn right side up and tighten lids.
Makes 4 pints.
Excerpt from Whirlwind Romance: Slipping Briskly
The full moon shone through the window, illuminating Lacey’s nodding head. Armand touched her cheek. “I think it’s your bedtime.”
Stung, she shot back, “I’m taking care of you, remember?”
He held up a hand. “Sorry! I’d forgotten.” After a moment, he asked, his tone diffident, “Can you help me up?”
Lacey put an arm around his back and together they limped to Crispin’s room. She took his pants and shirt off and folded them neatly. As she turned to leave, he touched her arm. “Stay a minute?”
How could she admit she had to get out of there quickly or she wouldn’t be able to go at all? His handsome face—the strong chin covered with stubble, the pearly teeth contrasting with his tan skin, not to mention the long, graceful fingers he held out to her—all conspired to lure her closer. Her heart led the way, propelling her to his side. She sat down. “What is it?”
“Lacey…um.”
Her body tensed as desire fought to get out, and she fought just as hard to keep it in. I have to go. I have to…go. “What?”
His words came out in a rush. “Lacey, the other day—the first night—when you rescued me. When we…we…”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Christ.
“I…uh…want you to know I don’t do that on a regular basis.”
His air of shy ambivalence gave her courage. “I see. You don’t have sex on a regular basis?”
“No, no, it’s not that.” He stopped, flustered. “Er, I mean… I don’t sleep with women indiscriminately.”
Should she let him off the hook? Nah. “But you do sleep with a lot of women?”
“No! Lacey, you’re being difficult on purpose. I meant, that I didn’t mean to…you know. It just happened. Forgive me?”
“I—”
Armand interrupted her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable.” He seemed distracted, running a finger down her arm. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Too short.” He peered at her. “Lacey, you must know how beautiful you are. You have the most perfect cheekbones I’ve ever seen.”
“Cheekbones?” What the hell is he talking about?
“I’m an amateur photographer. Those cheekbones could belong to a supermodel. Perfectly sculpted. And your nose…” He tapped the tip. “A little pixie nose. It even turns up slightly. Your long, fine hair is the russet-gold of burnished copper pots I once saw piled high in a shop on Martinique. Your eyes…” He closed his. “Your eyes are the blue-green of a freshly mowed cricket field, of the emeralds that grow deep in the mountains, of the lagoon near my home on a blustery day.” He touched her hand. “Then there’s your body—as I remember it—a soft, comfortable, pillowy—”
“Hey!” Lacey shook her head to break the spell. “I think you’ve said enough. Get some sleep.”
She tried to rise, but he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. She wanted to struggle. She tried to struggle. It was no use. The long kiss filled her with a warmth that matched a fire on a cold night, a cup of cocoa, or a hot bath. When he lay back, the warmth turned to blazing passion. The power of it frightened her. I’ve got to go. She ran out of the room before he could stop her.
Librarian, anthropologist, Congressional aide, speechwriter—M. S. Spencer has traveled the globe. She has published fourteen romantic suspense or murder mystery novels, with two more on the way. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Menopause is the transition period in a woman’s life when her ovaries go on strike and all hell breaks loose. We become a human roller coaster. One minute we’re fine the next we’re Attila the Hun in a dress.
Here are the fun things you get to look forward to:
#1 – Hair starts growing in places you really rather it didn’t and you suddenly look like Groucho Marx. If that wasn’t bad enough, you realize you’re getting a little thin on top. Okay, you can give your husband a run for his money. Buying several wigs will take care of that little problem until the hot flashes hit.
#2 – With one look you can send grown men running for their lives. Okay, the knife clenched in your fist doesn’t hurt either.
#3 – Deprived of chocolate you have the ability to take down an armed felon without breaking a sweat or a nail. Hey, who needs the S.W.A.T. team?
#4 – You don’t need a sauna, you are one. Those wonderful sweat stains and sodden hair are so very becoming.
#5 – Chocolate is the only thing standing between you and a lifetime behind bars.
#6 – Your sex drive sputters to a complete and utter stop. If a lap dance from a hot Chippendale dancer doesn’t get you excited, your husband’s in for a long dry spell.
I tried everything from Black Cohosh to soy to Evening Primrose Oil and finally settled on Prempo to keep my homicidal tendencies under control. The good news is, the police no longer do hourly drive-bys on my house, my hot flashes are gone and my sex drive is back. Now, where did I put my little black negligee?
BLACKHEART’S TREASURE
Aiden Blackheart is the most powerful werewolf ever born. He’s a bit surprised when he discovers his mate is an ordinary meter maid with some baggage. Okay, a lot of baggage, which includes a million-dollar bounty on her head, and she’s not quite human.
What is she? Even she doesn’t know.
Like to laugh? Love mayhem? Do hot, sexy love scenes turn you on? Wanna know if a not quite human meter maid can find love with a billionaire Alpha wolf. Or will her enemies cut their romance short?
Hi everyone, my name is Kennedi Darling and I write contemporary MC Romance. I live in sunny Arizona with my wonderful husband of almost 14 years, our two boys, aged eight and four years, a super laid-back dog named Roxie, an ornery turtle named Gloria, and two fish that have lived forever, yet remain unnamed. I spend my days as a full-time stay-at-home mom to my boys, as well as a full-time caregiver to my ten-month-old niece. My nights are a different story. I use the little free time I have to research, plot, and write.
My journey as an author started a little less than a year ago, though I have always enjoyed writing. I woke up from a dream, and in that dream, I’d written a book. At the time I didn’t have any idea what the book was about, nor could I remember any other details of the dream. For the next few days, every time I slept, I’d awaken with another piece of the puzzle, until one day a week later, I had the whole picture.
I’d dreamed of a series and the characters within it. From that very moment on, it was as if an entire world developed before my eyes. My characters started coming forward, slipping details to me like a love note written in class. Their names and what they did, all formed this brilliant image in my mind’s eye until I couldn’t think of anything else.
I started carrying a notebook with me wherever I went because I never knew when one of these characters would breathe life into their existence and leave me scrambling to jot down what they told me.
Honestly, when I sat down to begin writing, my husband thought I was nuts. “You’re going to do what now?” he said to me. “A book, like for other people to read?” I understood his confusion. Never in our sixteen years together had I ever mentioned wanting to write a book and now, all of a sudden, I was embarking on this journey I dove into headfirst. Well, I set out to write something that I thought people would love and relate to and be able to feel with every fiber of their being, and I hope I’ve done just that.
I’d always had a love for books. There’s just something peaceful and utterly amazing about the ability to bring something to life with one’s mind. I am absolutely thrilled to share my first book with everyone, and I hope you’ll take a chance on me.
If you’ve ever read the MC romance genre before, you’ve probably heard of the SAA (sergeant at arms) position and what it entails. For those that haven’t, the SAA’s job is to maintain the security of the club. That includes the members, their families, and all their property. My debut novel features a decorated former Army Ranger who now holds the SAA seat at the officer’s table for the Tattered Souls MC.
Follow Dagger’s journey along an emotional rollercoaster, battling a loss he wasn’t prepared for, treading water in a sea of misconception, and finally getting his hard-earned HEA. This book of trials, heartache, and undying love will leave you with a book hangover of epic proportions, but don’t worry. More is to come from the TSMC.
Dagger
Sienna:
I promised him forever, only one mistake became never.
My body was no longer my lover’s temple, but a madman’s canvas.
Instead of quivering with pleasure, I shuddered in pain.
Now I’m back, a shell of a woman with a shattered mind and a tattered soul.
There’s no way Dagger would see me for the woman I was.
And the loneliness is going to kill me.
Dagger:
I promised her forever, only one call became never.
Dreams of the future were no longer peaceful, but shattered by nightmares.
The woman who held the key to my soul was gone, though I never moved on.
Now she’s back, though tattered and broken.
She’ll never believe she still owns my heart.
But I’m determined to avenge her.
Dagger is the first book in the Tattered Souls MC. This story includes a HEA, no cliffhanger, and no cheating.
Adult Content Warning: This book contains explicit language, sexual scenes, and violence.
**Trigger Warnings**
This book contains instances of past torture, the recounting of past mental and physical abuse, as well as an instance of suicidal thoughts and a stopped attempt. If any of these subjects affect you negatively, this book may not be suitable for you.
Book Link: Dagger (Tattered Souls MC: Book 1) is available on KU and on Amazon here: https://mybook.to/DaggerTSMC
I know we’ve all had that one crush in high school. That guy/girl that looked right through you, while you scribbled their name in your notebook. Fantasized about them day and night. And watch from afar as they date other people, wishing it were you. It’s a major blow to your self-esteem and you even find yourself wondering what’s wrong with you? Why doesn’t he/she see me? Well, in my current release, Zoe has just about had it with Rafe Montgomery. Waiting for him to notice her. Waiting for him to make the first move. This is the twenty-first century, right? Women don’t sit around hoping a guy will toss them a crumb. Not anymore. We go after what we want. The question is, will Rafe take what Zoe’s offering or will she be left to nurse a broken heart?
Rafe: A Men of Silverlake Novella
This year is sure to be her hottest Christmas yet…
Rafe Montgomery has one goal. Get the hell out of Silverlake before the annual Christmas bash. Everyone in town shows up to celebrate the festive holiday, including Zoe VanBurn. Rafe has fantasized about the cute brunette one too many times. But there’s a very clear hands-off vibe—thanks to Zoe’s big brother Ace. Still, the innocent smiles and teasing remarks she tosses his way are getting harder to ignore. Escaping to sunny Florida is Rafe’s only hope. So when Zoe shows up on the beach wearing a sexy red bikini, Rafe goes down like a sinking ship. Having Zoe in the tropical paradise away from big brother’s watchful eye? Yeah, that’s sure to spell trouble.
A twenty-four-year-old virgin and in love with a man who looks right through her. That’s Zoe VanBurn’s reality. In high school, she sat back and watched as Rafe flirted with other girls. Still, Zoe has kept hope alive because deep down she knows that Rafe belongs to her. They aren’t in high school anymore and Zoe isn’t the same shy girl she used to be. He might be running scared, but Zoe knows exactly what she wants for Christmas…and she’ll use every trick in the book to get him!
Bestselling author Anne Rainey, “wastes no time getting right to the erotic heart” (Publishers Weekly). She is published by Kensington and Entangled Publishing. Her books have won numerous awards and have been translated into Italian and German. In addition, Anne has dipped her toes into self-publishing with her exciting paranormal series: The Zenarians. Anne is from the Midwest and has had a variety of odd careers, including sales associate, nail technician, chiropractic assistant, and restaurant hostess. Her love of books has opened her up to a thrilling career as a romance author. Her stories are filled with passion, love, and the sometimes-exasperating bonds of family.
Menopause is the transition period in a woman’s life when her ovaries go on strike and all hell breaks loose. We become a human roller coaster. One minute we’re fine the next we’re Attila the Hun in a dress.
If you’ve ever read the MC romance genre before, you’ve probably heard of the SAA (sergeant at arms) position and what it entails. For those that haven’t, the SAA’s job is to maintain the security of the club. That includes the members, their families, and all their property. My debut novel features a decorated former Army Ranger who now holds the SAA seat at the officer’s table for the Tattered Souls MC.
