Just got back from a 2-week trip to Italy, France & Switzerland. It was freakin’ fantastic! We didn’t spend any time in Rome this visit. Instead, we drove the rental car north and visited the ancient hilltop town of Orvieto. Narrow streets, lovely cathedral, amazing views of the Italian countryside.

The next day we drove north to Florence to see the statue of David and the Duomo. Lovely sites, lots of status, amazing artwork hundreds of years old.

Then we swung west to Pisa, where my husband climbed the leaning tower while I sipped wine and watched. Been there, done that last time.

From Pisa, we headed west to the Italian Riviera town of Riomaggiore in the Cinque Terre district. We took a boat tour of the 5 towns in the district and explored Montorossa. Loved the views. They were to die for!

From there, we headed to Milan and toured the church in the center of the city and stayed a night before catching the train to Geneva where we attended an airshow, where wealthy people toured lavish planes and bought them!

Our last day, we visited the town of Montreux on Lake Geneva where Chillon Castle is perched on the edge of the lake with the Alps in the background. Lord Byron wrote about the Prisoner of Chillon. We walked through that prison! It was amazing. The entire trip was bellissimo!

And now that I’m back, I get to celebrate the release of JUSTICE BURNING, book #2 in the Hellfire Series. Like cowboys? Like lawmen? Toss in a runaway bride and you might just get chemistry!

Hot sheriff’s deputy rescues a beautiful runaway bride
with a deadly secret in her trunk

Free on Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon | AmazonUK

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Elle James’s Newsletter

Harland County Series | Book Seven: Jesse
Release date: June 21, 2016

When Lacey Turner’s father contracted AIDs from a transfusion when she was five, her rough childhood made her strong and self-sufficient, so butting heads with the guy her brother leaves in charge of the ranch while he’s away is as inevitable as her attraction to the hot cowboy.

National Guardsman Jesse Briscoe’s word is his bond. Too bad he agrees to watch over his friend’s ranch and sister while his buddy is away. The hellcat is as spoiled and self-serving as she is beautiful. But he’d witnessed firsthand what a woman like that can do to a man when his mother decided she no longer wanted to be a wife and mother and deserted them when he was nine.

Worn down by a desire too strong to ignore, the two give in to their heated attraction, but will they give up control long enough to discover the truth behind their attitudes, or will words get in the way?

Pre-Order Available at all outlets:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DMIK178
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1098321341
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/her-indulgent-cowboy
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/her-indulgent-cowboy-donna-michaels/1123610851?ean=2940153208701

~HARLAND COUNTY SERIES~
Unruly cowboys and the women who tame them…

Book 1: Cole – HER FATED COWBOY
Book 2: Conner—HER UNBRIDLED COWBOY
Book 3: Kade—HER UNIFORM COWBOY (Award Winner)
Book 4: Kevin—HER FOREVER COWBOY (Award Winner)
Book 5: Jace—HER HEALING COWBOY
Book .05: Jen & Brock—HARLAND COUNTY CHRISTMAS (prequel novella)
Book 6: Tanner—HER VOLUNTEER COWBOY
Book 7: Jesse—HER INDULGENT COWBOY
Book 7.5: —HER HELL YEAH COWBOY (Sable Hunter Hell Yeah KW Crossover Novella 8/2016)
Book 8: Keiffer—HER TROUBLED COWBOY (Citizen Soldier Crossover Novel-Rel. Nov/2016)

About Donna Michaels:

Donna Michaels is a NYT & USAT bestselling, award winning author who writes romance through the H’s-Hot, Humorous and Heartwarming. Her heroes are strong alpha cowboys and military men who are equally matched by their heroines. With over twenty books of various lengths and heat levels, she’s published through Entangled Publications, AmazonEncore, The Wild Rose Press, Whimsical Publications, Kindle Worlds, as well as having several self-published titles. Donna lives in northeastern PA with her military husband of 30 years, and a house full of her now adult children, many rescued cats, and even her parents! There’s never a dull moment, which means there’s plenty to write about!

Hook up with Donna here:

https://www.facebook.com/DonnaMichaelsAuthor
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http://www.linkedin.com/pub/donna-michaels/8/879/408 http://www.goodreads.com/Donna_Michaels
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Thanks for reading,

~Donna

Enjoy learning about Marianne Rice’s new book! Have a great rest of the weekend! ~DD

* * * * *

WILDE FOR YOU by Marianne Rice

||| PURCHASE |||
AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/1WOpcce
AMAZON UK: http://amzn.to/1XszP2T

|||||| THE WILDE SISTERS ||||||

Hello Delilah fans! It’s Lizzie Ashworth here, bringing you another short fiction.

We romance lovers look forward to sexy scenes and heart wrenching love stories. What we don’t like are stories of the downside. But sometimes those stories need to be told.

In this little piece, I explore the moment when a woman has to face reality about the man she loves. It’s a crisis point, perhaps familiar to many of you from similar real-life experiences. The story starts before this scene and ends long after this scene. But we can imagine all the rest just from this part.

~~~

The storm door rattled in its latch. The broken pane trembled and not for the first time Augusta thought the glass would pop out and shatter to the floor. She withdrew her hand from the handle and stepped back.

Branson hadn’t stood up. His muscled frame hovered on the wooden chair as if waiting. As if not firmly caught in the direction he’d taken. As if he might spring up any second, slam his fist into something, shove her against the wall and assault her with his mouth, his body. A tremor ran through her belly. As if.

Calmly, he twisted off the cap on the half pint and emptied the last of the whiskey into his mug. She wanted to challenge him, argue, yell, throw things, stare him down. But her angry gaze caught on the black eye patch, the eye that wasn’t there, the eye that she had never realized was the place her glance went automatically, some habit of engagement with another human when your dominant eye seeks out its counterpart in the other person. She’d never known how that worked. Now, it seemed like the only damn thing that happened consistently with Branson.

Forcing her gaze to focus on his other eye, his only eye, she met his calculating, sardonic gray stare, his expression of contempt, or challenge, or whatever the hell it was that he felt.

“Go on,” he said quietly. “Get the fuck out.”

She stifled the words that sprang to her lips and turned again to the door. The cracks radiating out from the fist-sized hole blurred with the yellow residue of tape that had long since fallen away, victim of hot, cold, wind, rain. She remembered when the last of it peeled away and hung by a thin edge, curled and brittle. Once it fell, he had allowed it to lie on the threshold for weeks.

“You need to fix this glass.” She regretted her words the minute they left her lips.

Why didn’t she just leave? What was it about him that reached into her chest and held her like a fist? She had shed all the tears, tried everything. Except leaving. Maybe that’s what it would take.

“Why?” he questioned, his voice dry and expressionless. “Everything else around here is falling apart.”

He said it like he would comment on the weather to a stranger. On invitation of his words, Augusta looked around the familiar place, the tiny living room where a layer of dust coated the window sill, coffee table, the top of the television. A blanket on the couch where he spent most of his days. And nights. The floors needed cleaning. Prescription bottles, empty crumpled cigarette packs, an Elvis zippo worn to bare metal where the neck should have been, and dirty dishes littered the little table where he sat.

Spring wind hit the glass again, another sharp rattle as the door latch heaved in and out against its little catch. What would happen if she threw it open, let it bang against the outside wall, let the glass fly into glittering shards to cascade over the wet sidewalk and ground? She shook her head slightly. She knew what would happen. The glass would stay where it fell. He’d walk over it like he walked over everything that used to mean something in his life.

Cautiously, she brought her gaze back to his face, his chiseled handsome face with its gritty beard shadow and the scar by his temple and the angry gray eye, watching. His big hands turned the mug in short increments like the minute hand on a clock.

“Okay, damn you.” Her throat choked on the words. But she was right. Her gut told her. She had to leave. She had tried everything else.

She grabbed the door handle, popped the latch, and stepped outside. The wind caught her hair and whirled it into the air. Cold pellets of rain splattered her cheek. She turned briefly to force the fragile storm door closed, surprised to see him standing there like a ghost on the other side of the glass.

A fresh flurry of rain dashed against her face and she hurried toward her car. If she looked one second longer, she would lose any hope of leaving. The car ignition sent its gentle ding-ding into the noise of rain and wind. A crashing sound shattered across the yard, and she knew what she would see before she cast her gaze toward him. He stood there in the open doorway, his arms crossed, his gray stare burning across the distance until she could almost see the bloodshot rim, the slightly puffy lid. The storm door lay flat against the outside wall with one last large section of glass hanging at a forty-five degree angle and the rest of it in a thousand pieces on the ground and concrete walk.

She wanted to cry out, beat his chest with her fists. Tears burned her eyes as she slid into her car seat and closed the door. Methodically, she turned the key in the ignition. With great effort, she did not look at the doorway as she backed down the drive and slowly pulled away.

~~~

I live in the wilds of the Ozark Mountains with my cats, hound dogs, and whichever child has taken up temporary residence between grad school and relocation. I’ve been writing my entire life and can’t express how wonderful it is to share stories with readers like you. Everything I write comes from my heart in the hopes that you’ll find a bit of pleasure within its pages. Thank you for your kind words and appreciation! You make it all worthwhile.
Sign up for my free monthly e-newsletter. Excerpts, pre-release deals, and much more. Sign up at http://eepurl.com/bHOyS9

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Descended of Dragons, Book 3

A Bitter Betrayal

Stella Stonewall exposed her scaly side to save the man she loves, the soulful and sexy Ewan Bristol. But her troubles have only just begun. A treacherous betrayal at the hands of a trusted confidante leaves her running for her life.

An Impossible Choice

An unlikely savior offers Stella a way out, but it means leaving everything—and everyone—behind. Can she give up the only home, the only friends she’s ever known to save herself?

A Chance to Have It All

Stella learns of an ancient curse that, if lifted, could change everything. To alter the course of history she must trust her former lover Rowan Gresham, and she must trust the machinations of fate: that she may be the key to it all.

Betrayal Foretold is a fast-paced, emotional ride through the mesmerizing world of Thayer. This third book in the Descended of Dragons series, a new adult fantasy romance, is a can’t-put-it-down story of loss and self-invention, of survival, and of the selfless pursuit to secure the happiness of friends.

Excerpt

Time spent alone is precious.

It’s cleansing, it’s rejuvenating, it’s fortifying—until it’s not. I had soul-searched and introspected until my deficiencies clung to me like a throng of specters.

Over the last few days, the people of Thayer had learned dragons were not, in fact, wiped out hundreds of years before, and word had spread like wildfire that I was a member of the notoriously villainous species. My world turned upside down in a flash, and the capricious tide of public sentiment turned against me.

I sat, licking deep emotional wounds in the primitive cabin deserted only days before by the three Drakontos dragons—and my relatives—my Grandmother Bay, my Uncle Eiven, and my cousin Stryde. An official Radix committee and the Thayerian authorities conducted searches and quizzed my known associates to learn both my whereabouts and the extent of their knowledge.

My friends had proved faithful and generous in the days since I’d fled our magical grad school, Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning, or The Root, as most commonly referred to it. But my friends couldn’t be expected to spend every waking moment at my cabin hideaway. Ewan, Boone and Timbra, and sometimes Layla visited when there was no risk of being followed, but it hadn’t been frequently enough to stave off my loneliness.

My arms hung at my sides as I stood in the center of the cabin, too restless to sit, to read, to think. The absence of sound was so prevalent that every tiny noise seemed to roar in contrast: the scratch of a branch against the roof, the drag-tick of an old clock, the whistle of wind through the dense forest.

“Hello,” a deep voice called from outside. “Stell?”

Ewan. Thank God. I raced through the cabin door and found him standing just beyond the front porch. Ewan Bristol rarely deviated from wearing black, and when he did, it wasn’t far. A dark blue V-neck lent contrast to his skin, which tanned easily and well.

I crashed into him, holding him close, and delighted in the solidness of him. Ewan always smelled of the forest, of juniper or fir, and I inhaled his scent while I had the opportunity; before he could leave again. I closed my eyes and absorbed the comfort of his arms, of his warm body.

It wasn’t just that I was so lonely I’d begun talking to the furniture. I missed the sexy squint his eyes took on, the uneven slide of his lips when he thought I was funny or clever. I missed the way his mouth went slack when my top slipped to reveal too much cleavage. I missed his level-headed advice and unyielding support. I missed the way people stopped and listened when he spoke. I missed Ewan.

“Hi,” I said and beamed up at him. His pleasure mirrored mine. It was there for me to see, completely unguarded in the depths of his dark eyes.

He kissed me high on the cheekbone before finding my mouth. Think me arrogant if you like, but I’ve always considered Ewan and me the best kissers ever to lay lips on one another. My mouth fit perfectly against his, his full lips complementing my smaller ones. With a groan, he pulled me so tightly into him I gasped for breath. He had missed me, too.

My Radix-issued personal interactive assistant, which I’d named Pia, chirped from the cabin just as I felt a buzz through the fabric of Ewan’s shorts.

“Stella,” Pia called, “you have received a message from Dean Livia Miles.” I shot a questioning glance at Ewan, who shrugged and fumbled in his pocket for his own device.

When I didn’t answer right away, Pia repeated the notification. “Stella, you have received a message from Dean Livia Miles.”

I hurried inside to see what Dean Miles could possibly be sending. The last I’d heard, she was on a vicious rampage to condemn and disgrace me.

When I emerged from the cabin, still scrolling to access the message, Ewan’s posture was bunched, coiled. A toy soldier wound too tight.

I dropped my arms to my sides, still clutching Pia in one hand. “Ewan? Ewan, what’s wrong?”

When he looked up, his dark eyes were black holes within his blood-drained face.

Someone died. What else could produce such a severe response?

“She…” Ewan cleared his throat. “She sent the entire school your journal entry.”

“What? Who did? What are you talking about? What journal entry?”

His face held such pity. “Dean Miles. She sent the entire campus a student journal entry you wrote detailing your dragon, your family…everything.” Ewan whispered the last. He walked to the fire pit and slid onto a log seat.

Purchase Betrayal Foretold

Amazon US: http://amzn.com/B01D2BPH4W
Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01D2BPH4W
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01D2BPH4W
Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01D2BPH4W
Amazon JP: http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B01D2BPH4W
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/BFBandN
iTunes: http://bit.ly/BFiTunesBuylink
Kobo: http://bit.ly/BFKobo

About the Author

Though she grew up on a working cattle ranch, Jen Crane has been into fantasy and sci-fi since seeing a bootleg tape of The Princess Bride.

Jen has a master’s degree and solid work histories in government and non-profit administration. But just in the nick of time she pronounced life too real for nonfiction. She now creates endearing characters and alternate realms filled with adventure, magic, and love.

Jen is happily living out her dream in The South with her husband and three children, striking that delicate balance between inspiration and frustration.

Book 2 in Jen’s new fantasy romance series, Descended of Dragons, was selected by iTunes/iBooks as “Our Pick” in fantasy/sci-fi.

Sign up for sneak peeks, news, and giveaways at http://bit.ly/Jen_Crane_Newsletter

Find Jen Crane Online

Website: JenCraneBooks.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/JenCrane
FaceBook: https://www.facebook.com/JenCraneBooks
Twitter: @JenCraneBooks
Instagram: JenCraneBooks
Pinterest: JenCraneBooks

Quick note: Yesterday’s contest is still open! Be sure to enter to win a free story!
There will be THREE winners!

* * * * *

Delilah kindly posted here about what inspired “An Eye for Love”, the short story that is part of the Rogues anthology , so today I’ll talk a little bit about the importance of costumes.

Breeches or pantaloons? Hoops or petticoats?

Clothing plays an integral role in a story. The garments a character wears aids in setting the time period the story is taking place in as well as showing the character’s social status, how they view themselves, or the image they want to portray to the people in their world. When writing stories set in a historical time period, mentioning a character wearing a garment from a different era can throw a reader out of the story.

As a writer, it’s important to know the era and the clothing worn during the time the story takes place. The more detail you are able to acquire about a particular item the better. Knowing whether buttons were used in a certain garment, the length of a garment and the undergarments worn are details that can enrich a scene. Fortunately, there are many resources available for the person interested in learning about the garments worn during a particular time period.

Historical re-enactment societies are good sources of information. Some members of these organizations use the construction techniques of the respective era, making entire costumes by hand. Historical authors are another source and some are quite knowledgeable about the colors, fabrics and types of articles worn. Historical pattern makers and sewing experts can also provide research material.

I enjoy sewing when I have time. The photo is of a corset I made a few years ago using Simplicity® pattern 1819. It was time-consuming to make even with the use of a sewing machine. This corset is part of a Steampunk costume, and with its modern lines doesn’t fit the Regency time period I set my stories in.

If you’d like to be kept informed of future book releases, sign up for my newsletter at cynthiayoungauthor.com

About the Author

Cynthia Young writes tantalizing, passionate romances set during the Regency era. She enjoys writing stories with strong characters that triumph over challenges to achieve their happily-ever-after. Cynthia lives in the Pacific Northwest where the rain and numerous coffee houses make the perfect writing companions.

website | blog | facebook

Hi Folks,

My name is Anna James and I write contemporary romance and romantic suspense with strong heroes and heroines that conquer life’s trials and find their happy ever afters.

I’d like to thank Delilah for having me here.

I’m here today to talk about creating the “Meet Cute”. What’s the “Meet Cute”, you ask? It’s that pivotal scene where your characters meet for the first time. In a reunion romance it’s the scene where your characters come face-to-face again.

I love reading reunion romances as well as writing them. There’s something about getting a second chance at love that really gets to me, but crafting that “Meet Cute” for a reunion romance can be tricky. The characters already know one another. They could be friends, or enemies or somewhere in between. So, what crazy circumstances can bring them together in a memorable way?

In many reunion romances the hero and heroine were a couple at one time, but things didn’t work out.

This is the case with my novel THE BUSINESS OF LOVE – Book 1 Forevermore Series. I wanted a different twist for book 2. I wondered what would happen if one character couldn’t remember meeting the other. And voila, CHASING MEMORIES – Forevermore Series (book 2), came to life.

Here’s an excerpt from the story:

Lucas opened the door to the conference room and stepped in. Piercing blue eyes gazed up at him. His heart raced, pulse soared and the breath stuck in his throat. Shit. He knew India Leone, and not from pulling her from Grams’ car before it toppled over the embankment. No, they’d met in person. A couple of months ago, at an investment seminar in Los Angeles.

Tall, goddess-like, her voluptuous body and raven black hair had sparked his interest from the moment he’d set eyes on her.

She’d joined him for coffee after the seminar and they’d talked long into the evening, discussing the best restaurants to dine in, they both loved a little eatery on East Second Street in Los Angeles. Favorite places to visit, she loved Rome and he preferred Rio. Movies they found entertaining. She loved spy thrillers, which had surprised him as he’d figured her for one of those saccharine sweet chick flick types.

Not his typical first date scenario. He’d have chosen dinner in a quiet, intimate restaurant, not drinking an espresso in a coffee shop. Still, he’d enjoyed the evening. Enjoyed spending time with her. More than he’d thought possible.

He hadn’t made the connection until now, why would he? The woman he’d met in Los Angeles had been named Dee. Maybe it was short for India? Regardless, the beauty he remembered had glorious, long, silky locks that cascaded over soft, alabaster skin, blue eyes that gleamed like sparkling sapphires and a smile that could light up a gloomy day. Not short, wavy curls or a bruised, swollen face filled with cuts and angry scratches.

India stood and extended her hand to Lucas. “Hello, Mr. Walker. It’s nice to meet you.”

Mr. Walker? She thought he was Brett?

“I want to thank you for considering me for this position.”

Not a hint of recognition. Did she not remember him, or was this all part of a charade? “Lucas Morgan.” He shook her hand. Guileless eyes stared up at him.

CHASING MEMORIES – Book 2 Forevermore series

Trouble gets closer with every beat of their hearts…

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/nec4bts
Samhain: http://tinyurl.com/ntd7nkz

 Interested in winning an ecopy of CHASING MEMORIES?

I’m giving 2 away! All you have to do is sign up for my newsletter here: http://annajamesromance.com/?page_id=1437 between now and May 31, 2016 (new subscribers only). I’ll do a random drawing on June 1, 2016 and choose two winners.

 If you haven’t read the first book in my Forevermore series, it’s a great time to get caught up. THE BUSINESS OF LOVE – Book 1 Forevermore Series

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/o7v92go
Samhain: http://tinyurl.com/zj2z8gz

Excerpt:

“Is everything all right? I heard—”

Sophia froze. That voice. Dear Lord, no. It couldn’t be.

“—the security alarm go off,” the newcomer finished tersely.

Her heart started to pound. Please don’t be him, please don’t be him. Slowly, stiffly, she turned around and faced the man who’d just entered and yes, Dante Leone stood in her kitchen, large as life. Her knees threatened to buckle. No! She wouldn’t fall apart just because he was here. She straightened her shoulders and lifted up to her full height.

So, he hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all. She’d caught a glimpse of him at the church, but then he disappeared. When he didn’t show up at the cemetery or after the burial, with the other guests, she’d convinced herself he hadn’t really been there at all. Boy, had she been wrong.

Even from across the room, he was an imposing figure. At well over six feet he towered over her dressed in black trousers that fit his lean, narrow hips to perfection. His broad, muscled chest filled out a crisp white dress shirt and black suit jacket. His hair was shorter now than it had been when they’d last met. It suited him. The new style accentuated his high cheekbones and sharply chiseled jaw.

Lord, he was even more handsome than she remembered and, Jeez Louise, how pathetic could she be?

The man used and humiliated you, her brain screamed.

Yet there she stood, lamenting over his good looks and, my goodness, let’s not forget those gorgeous sapphire blue eyes and…

There you go again, her brain condemned scathingly.

What was he doing here? Okay, that was a silly question. Dante was second in command of Baker, her father’s financial investment company. It made sense he’d attend his funeral. But goodness, she wasn’t prepared to see him again. It had been six years since he’d burst into her life and then stormed out just as quickly, leaving her to cope with the damage and destruction left in his wake.

“Dante?” Was the croaking sound really her voice?

Trey gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and she was grateful for his presence. He’d been there to witness the devastation that had followed their breakup. His friendship, like always, had been a lifeline.

“We’ve got everything under control,” Trey said curtly.

“I can see that,” Dante retorted. “Sophia, when you have a moment I’d like to speak with you.”

“This is not the time or the place,” Trey said, in a disgusted tone.

Dante’s lips tightened into a thin white line as he glared down at Trey. “I wasn’t suggesting we discuss business today.” He turned his attention to Sophia. “We can meet next week or the week after.”

Next week or the week after? Wouldn’t he be back in New York by then?

Trey opened his mouth to speak, but Dante held up a hand to silence whatever he’d been about to say. “I’ll be around, so whatever time is convenient for you. And Allen, of course.”

He’d be around? “How long are you planning to stay?”

“I’m relocating to LA.”

Her jaw dropped open and she couldn’t stop the gasp that came out of her mouth. “What?”

His eyes narrowed. “Temporarily. Until we sort out the business.”

Good god, no! Avoiding him when he lived in New York had been difficult enough. If he were there, in LA, she’d have to see him. Every day. A lick of heat raced through her and she had to clamp down hard to stop the excitement dead in its tracks.

She wasn’t interested in Dante Leone.

Not anymore.

No way. No how.

*~*~*

Coming Soon: CHASING SECRETS – Book 3 Forevermore Series

The front door opened. A burst of light blinded him as someone walked in. A woman, judging by the silhouette, carrying something in her right hand.

“Maddie!” Pam squealed.

Wyatt’s heart pounded faster than a freight train traveling at top speed. The door closed, and Maddie Scott-Smith came into focus. He stared. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. If possible, she was more beautiful now than the last time he’d seen her. Tall and slender, with curves in all the right places. Her long wavy brown hair had been cut to shoulder length. He liked the new style. It suited her high cheekbones and heart-shaped face.

A loud squeal sounded. Maddie turned. Her lips curved up. Same smile, too. It could always light up even the gloomiest of days.

“Pam.” Maddie waved with her free hand.

She came to see Pam. He should have figured as much. They’d been best friends since high school. Now that Pam was back in town…His gut twisted. Fool. He should have known. What an idiot he’d been to believe Maddie was different than any of the other females he’d known, other than his family. The sweet, loving woman who’d sworn his scars didn’t matter never really existed. She’d been a figment of his imagination. The real Maddie had latched on to better prospects the moment they’d come along.

Pam rushed over and enveloped Maddie in a big hug. “I’m so glad you made it after all. Oh, look at this little angel. I’m so excited to finally meet him.”

Him. She’d had a son. Bryce Beaumont’s boy. To think he’d almost believed her when she’d come to him and divulged she was pregnant with his child. Like that could ever happen. She was engaged to Bryce, and the sob story about him blackmailing her into it was a load of crap that stunk worse than a skunk. Bryce Beaumont didn’t have to threaten anyone to get them to marry him. Why would he when a parade of women swarmed at his feet? Not to mention the massive trust fund he’d have access to in the near future. Well, at least he’d learned the truth about Maddie before it was too late.

About Anna

Anna James writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels with strong, confident heroes and heroines who conquer life’s trials and find their happily ever after. While she’s been writing for years, her first published story released in 2010. Since then, Anna has penned six novels, seven novellas and one short story.

She is a member of RWA (Romance Writers of America), CTRWA (Connecticut Romance Writers of America), CORW (Charter Oak Romance Writers) and CR-RWA (Contemporary Romance – Romance Writers of America).

Anna is married to a wonderful husband who spends countless hours picking up the slack around the house so she can pursue her dream of writing, is the proud mother of five fabulous children, and a big, loveable rescue dog the entire family adores.

Although she’s lived in several locations throughout her life she now calls Connecticut home. When not writing, reading, or plotting, she can be found spending time with family and friends.

Want to learn more about Anna and her books?
Sign up for her newsletter: http://annajamesromance.com/?page_id=1437
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