UPDATE: The winner is…Stacey Kinzebach!
*~*~*

Happy New Year!

I started 2024 by publishing a new book! Well, I re-released a book, that is.

My Mistletoe Master was originally published in 2016. It was my first book. I recently got my rights back from the publisher and decided to try my hand at self-publishing. It has a brand-new cover, a fresh edit, and a prologue that’s included for the first time!

Plus…it’s FREE!

My Mistletoe Master is a spicy contemporary romance. It’s new adult, BDSM, forbidden romance, second chance, and older brother’s hot best friend all rolled into one holiday-themed novel.

I’m visiting the blog today to drop off an excerpt for My Mistletoe Master, along with a link for you to download it for FREE. (Please note, I’m waiting for Amazon to price match it. It’s currently .99 cent there, but free everywhere else. Hopefully, they will drop it to free soon.)

In addition to My Mistletoe Master, I also have a PNR wolf shifter-fated mate novel that’s FREE! Two free books to start off your reading list this January. You can get it here: get Drew for free!

And I’ve heard you all like contests. Leave me comment and tell me how you celebrate the New Year. One winner will be selected to receive a paperback book. Their choice between the following:

• Love Spells, Full Moons, and Silver Bullets
• Tails from the Clayridge Fountain
• Drew
• Callum (after it releases in paperback)
• My Mistletoe Master (after it releases in paperback)

My Mistletoe Master

Three years ago, he broke her heart. Now, she’s back in town and he’ll do anything to keep her.

When Nick catches her watching a fetish porno, Amelia isn’t sure what to expect. It certainly wasn’t a proposition to indulge her kinky side with her brother’s best friend—the man who destroyed her heart and confidence in one swoop.

Amelia’s three-year absence had taught Nick one thing—he doesn’t want to live without her. Nick isn’t willing to make the same mistake twice. He’ll do whatever it takes to show Amelia he can make her happy, even if that means learning what it takes to keep her satisfied in the bedroom.

Sneaking around during the holidays, Amelia questions if she can move past their history and trust Nick again.

Excerpt

Three years later…

Low keening moans and sharp slaps came from the speakers on her tablet.

Alone yet subtly embarrassed in her parents’ big house, she turned the volume down just a touch.

With her dad at work and her mother and brother recently gone to finish their holiday shopping, the welcome home from university hadn’t been as momentous as she’d expected. She’d been absent for three years, barely coming home between semesters. She had thought some sort of conversation would have at least occurred, not the quick ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ as her family fled the house she had received.

It was a busy time, especially with her parents’ annual holiday party. Besides, they hadn’t expected her home until late afternoon anyway, so who could fault them for rushing out the door as soon as she’d arrived?

Having dumped her stuff in the foyer, she’d proceeded to make herself a cup of tea, then had settled on the couch to check her grades.

No updates.

After scrolling social media, she’d given up trying to find a distraction and, instead, pulled up one of her favorite softcore porn videos. This one featured a Dom, clad in black leather pants and nothing else as he restrained a woman. He raised one arm, then the other, locking them in place above her head with cuffs. Suspended from the ceiling, the man went about binding the woman’s feet to the floor. Naked and spread eagle, she moaned for him. As he slowly raked his hand over here exposed ass, he denied her any form of release.

Growing wet between her legs, Amelia realized it had been too long since she’d had a man. Her body strained for more than her simple touch, but since she and her boyfriend had split two months ago, she would have to make do. To heighten her pleasure, she resisted her own needs, merely watching the two on the screen.

Pressing her palm against her jean-covered crotch, she watched as the woman cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure as the man repeatedly spanked her. Moaning aloud with the video, Amelia abandoned her restraint, rocking against her hand. Her eyes drifted shut as she tugged on the button of her jeans, eager to touch herself and work herself toward climax.

A cough sounded behind her, and she froze. “What a great way to start my morning.”

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut. No. No. No.

“Please, Sir,” the woman’s voice rang out from the tablet.

Wide-eyed, Amelia scrambled to shut the device off, finally muting the sound and flipping the cover over the screen.

A key in the front door that she would have heard, but another person already in the house? Damn it!

For a humiliating minute, Amelia prayed the floor would open up and swallow her whole. After three long years, this was not how she had envisioned facing him for the first time.

Frankly, she had planned to wear something sexy and elegant, and she wouldn’t have acknowledged his existence either. Instead, this was what Fate had in store.

Fuck my life.

Clutching her tablet to her chest, Amelia gathered what was left of her courage, standing to face him.

Nick Fuller. Her brother’s best friend and the man she’d been miserably in love with for decades.

From behind her makeshift shield, she studied him. He still took her breath away, even after he’d destroyed her fragile heart. With an unwavering stance, he stood with sleep-tousled hair, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms, and blocked her escape. His chest was broad, his stomach chiseled, and his arms corded with long, lean muscles. His expression was dark and confused.

She realized he was waiting for an explanation. Rather than provide one, she led with, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He blinked. “I’m here for the holidays, like every year.”

Amelia groaned. “My mom didn’t tell me you were here yet,” she admitted lamely, as though that explained her sinful behavior. Granted, her mother had barely said two words to her when she arrived.

“Three days.”

At a standstill, they simply stared each other down. His gaze was curious as it examined her.

Her cheeks heated.

How long was he standing there watching me?

Rounding the couch, she wondered how many days she could hide in her room before her parents dragged her out forcibly. With a bit of luck, she could avoid him at least for a few days.

But that was the coward’s way out and she knew it. This year’s plan had centered on pride and confidence, no matter how much she had to fake it.

I guess that plan is out the window now.

Aiming to shoulder her way past him so she could get to the stairs, Amelia put on a brave face and stalked toward him. His big body didn’t budge as she tried to maneuver around him.

Attempting to edge by, she mumbled, “Maybe we could just forget about this. You know, pretend I’m just not here yet.” She tried for a bright smile, but it faded when she saw humor light his gaze. Growing up, he and Gabe had teased her endlessly, and now she’d handed him ammunition.

“I don’t think so,” he took a step closer.

She had to tilt her head to keep his gaze. Rascal that he was, he dared to smile at her discomfort. Her body was primed for the orgasm she’d denied herself and his nearness didn’t help matters. Masculinity and dominance rolled off him in waves. People had always taken notice when he entered a room. He wasn’t the broad and bulky type like her brother; he was lean with a natural grace that made women think: stamina.

“I can’t believe it. I would never have thought Gabe’s little sister was such a perv.”

Convinced he was merely trying to get a rise out of her, her eyes narrowed, and her determination to sock him grew. Casual as you please, she shrugged. “It’s just a little kink.”

His smile widened.

She knew better than to trust that smile.

“You’re not going to tell anyone.” She winced when her words sounded more like a plea than an order.

“What’s my silence worth to you?”

This was the Nick she remembered from her childhood. Rebel, tease…scoundrel.

She ground her teeth and insisted, “You won’t tell.”

“Well, that depends on you, sweetheart,” he whispered. And was it her imagination, or had he gotten closer?

I’ve always loved Carolyn Bessette Kennedy’s bold minimalism style since I was a teenager, and I love how it’s become popular on TikTok and YouTube. In fact, there’s even a new book out about her style. Back in the day, Carolyn Bessette Kennedy was talked about in every major fashion magazine. Notice I don’t say, “interviewed,” or even, “on the cover.” That’s because she didn’t do interviews, cover shoots, or editorials. She worked in fashion and was also a fashion muse and inspiration, and what’s great about her style is how timeless yet modern it is, even though the photos are from the nineties.

Carolyn wasn’t plastered all over the media due to her seeking attention, but rather the fact people couldn’t help but to pay attention to her. It was refreshing then and even more so now as you see people hiring companies that generate articles about up-and-coming celebrities just to get them more attention.

I liked Carolyn’s modern, streamlined style, but I also admired how she conducted herself in public even more. There was a mystery to her that has become even more intriguing in the last few years as there’s very little mystery left to celebrities in the modern world. So, it makes sense that she inspired me years ago when I wrote a short story for my creative writing class in college. I wrote a story called “True Grit Need Not Apply,” about a teen girl dating the son of a popular senator and how they were opposites. I imagined a girl named Emme Trybus who had a bit more of a boho streak than Carolyn (although in the scene below I do reference the exact lip color she used to wear because I tracked it down back in the day—haha), but is thrust into a high-profile lifestyle due to who she was dating.

I wondered how Carolyn dealt with that high-profile life that came with photographers, gossip, and constant judgment. I found it fascinating how she was able to navigate through such a chaotic life. However, in my story, I made the couple teens and gave them different issues (trying to figure out what they want to do after high school, finding their path, and they both have grandparents dealing with health issues.)

My professor gave me great feedback and said it had vibes of Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger, which I hadn’t read at the time but was thrilled to hear. After the semester ended, one of my critique group members, David, told me it was his favorite story of mine, and I should develop it into a novel. I began working on it, but it sat for quite some time due to the fact that I ended up working as a freelance journalist while going to grad school, then getting married, moving overseas, etc. When I came back to it years later, I felt like no time had passes as I was instantly drawn back into Emme and Brendon’s world where they’re falling in love despite being from different backgrounds. I titled it, Dating the It Guy. and was fortunate to get a publishing contract for it.

Last year, I rereleased Dating the It Guy with updates and a new epilogue to show you what happened to the two high schoolers after they graduate from college. I guess I wanted to give them the happily ever after I only wish Carolyn and John could have had.

Excerpt from Dating the It Guy

The next day, I woke with this weird feeling my laptop was going to act up. In fact, when I checked my e-mail in the morning, I was kind of surprised it switched on at all. I figured I was just being paranoid about not getting my rough draft done, or maybe it was because the planet Mercury was in retrograde, but I tried to ignore my feelings. We had the day off from class, so I didn’t start working on my paper until later in the evening. I had just started typing when my screen froze. Feeling panicked, I hit Control-Alt-Delete and restarted the laptop, but the screen went blue and started flickering. What was it doing, and why was there a little gray box on my computer telling me I had sixty seconds until it shut down? Fifty-nine…fifty-eight…fifty-seven… This was just like the episode of As My Children Wept where Samson had to stop the bomb hidden in Sierra and Aristotle’s wedding cake. Did it mean the laptop was going to blow? On the show, the cake blew up, and everybody thought Aristotle was dead…well, until he showed up at Sierra’s next wedding, and was Sierra’s new husband mad…probably just as mad as Mrs. Rae would be when I didn’t turn in my assignment.

“Mo-om! My laptop’s possessed. Fix it!”

“Why don’t you just ask me to get out my fairy princess wand and throw pixie dust on it,” she shot back. “I’d have better luck with that.”

Sarcasm was not cute when you were having a crisis. I tried calling Zach, but his mom said he was working late. I was desperate, so I asked his mom if she knew anything about computers.

“There’s a guy at Mary’s Little RAMs who works on mine. I could give you his number, but they closed at five tonight.”

I hung up defeated. I didn’t know anybody who knew a thing about computers. Oh crap. I did know somebody who knew about computers. Brendon. He had mentioned he took a computer class last semester, but could I call him? Usually, I’d have no problem calling a guy for something, but this wasn’t a normal guy. He was what Margaux would call a “Hottie McHotHot.” Okay, what was wrong with me? He was just a regular person like everybody else. He put his pants on one leg at a time and went to the toilet like everybody else…but I bet his bathroom was super clean and everything in it matched. I pictured the whole room done in some manly, rich-person color like “hunter green” or “maroon.” And there would be lots of dark mahogany—

“Emme? Do you want to use my laptop to work on your paper?” Mom yelled up the stairs.

“It won’t help,” I replied. “I saved it on the hard drive because I’m a loser.”

Freaking Mercury retrograde. I should have known better than to expect a computer to work right. I should have backed up my work or e-mailed it to myself, but no, I was too worried about ordering new lip gloss from Lickity Lips. Now I had no paper, no gloss, and probably after I called Brendon begging him for help, no pride. I called and left a message on Brendon’s phone saying I had a computer questions. He was probably out with some amazing prelaw, premed student who donated blood to anemic puppies and did puppet shows for the elderly while knitting booties for—

My phone buzzed, and Brendon’s name popped up on the screen.

Brendon: Hey, what’s up?

I wrote back and explained about my computer, and he started giving me suggestions, which would have been helpful if I had known what he was talking about. It was like he was typing in Aramaic. He offered to come over, and I went to fix my hair the second I put down the phone. Normally I didn’t do much with my hair. It was long and always seemed messy no matter what I did with it. Kylie always said it was tousled like something out of a magazine, and yeah, sometimes I agreed with her and even loved my hair…and other times I feel like strangers on the street were going to walk up and hand me a hairbrush. My hair had been in a ponytail all night, so I couldn’t wear it down because it had a ponytail holder crease. I wound it into a loose bun and put on my ruby lip stain. I was digging through my hamper for my cutest top when the doorbell rang. I threw it on and ran down the stairs.

“Hey, thanks for coming over,” I said as I answered the door. I told him my laptop was upstairs, and I felt weird, like I was trying to lure him into my bedroom or something. He followed me, and I realized I should have made sure my dirty underpants weren’t half hanging out of my hamper when I shut it. Of course, it wasn’t a cute pair, but the big momma pants. Why didn’t I just wear Little Bo Peep pantaloons?

“See, it does this weird countdown thing when I turn it on,” I said. He sat at my desk and started messing with my laptop while I sat on the bed. I wondered if he washed his hands or used some hand sanitizer because I had this strict “clean hands” policy about my keyboard. I mean, I heard on the news those keyboards were playgrounds for bacteria.

“It’s probably because Mercury is in retrograde,” I said. He stared at me as if I had said, “I was sacrificing a goat in here before you came in, please excuse the stains on my ceremonial robe.” I tried to explain. “It’s the planet that rules communication—never mind. Do you think you can fix it?”

“Not sure yet,” he said. “I think I can retrieve your paper though. Do you have someplace else to finish it if I can’t get this computer to work?”

I started to answer when he said he had brought his laptop over for me to use while he worked on my computer. So I could either go downstairs and type on my mother’s boring laptop and leave Mr. Hotness alone in my bedroom, or I could stay here and work on it while we were in my room. Together. Alone. In my room. I loved the planet Mercury.

Find Dating the It Guy here. It’s free in Kindle Unlimited:
https://www.amazon.com/Dating-Guy-Krysten-Lindsay-Hager-ebook/dp/B09Y2RFRM7

About ​Krysten Lindsay Hager

Who knew all those embarrassing, cringe-y moments in middle school and high school could turn into a career? And who would have thought that daydreaming in math class would pay off down the road?

​Krysten Lindsay Hager writes for teens and tweens about friendship, self-esteem, fitting in, frenemies, crushes, fame, first loves, and values. She is the author of Cecily Taylor Series, the Star Series, and the Landry’s True Colors Series.

Website: https://www.krystenlindsay.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/krystenlindsay/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/krystenlindsay/
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@krystenlindsay

Grown up Drummonds. What happens when your YA characters won’t leave you alone? Well, if you’re me, you write grown-up versions of them. Dibs in the Drummer, Ozzy & Raven, What Happens in Florida, and Spring Break Take 2 are just a handful of stories that continue to overlap the YA books in this series.

In the YA September North versions, you see the events from the teens’ perspectives. In the adult, Cara North versions, you see the events from a new angle as some of these characters are now all grown up and ARE the parents.

It’s a wild and complicated series I have created, but I love the family so much, they just won’t let me let go of them. Not yet anyway. I have concluded the YA series with the Gen 2 Drummonds and will continue to play in the land of Drummonds until the Cara North versions hit that Gen 2 conclusion as well.

It all started with these three in Drum, Fight, and Break. This is the cover for the print anthology with the bonus story of The Rooster: Kendra and William’s Story

You can get started with Drum by clicking the title above. 

Then, this happened: Dibs on the Drummer. 

During the Gen 1 stories for Lou, Hendrix, and Junior, Drum and Mariah started talking, but as adults and since the reader can see some of the struggles they are having as adults in those three stories, I ended up writing this one. You don’t have to read the other stories to enjoy, it, but I am sure it helps to read Drum so you know their story as teens to understand where they are in this story on the verge of an empty nest and a lot of life happening as they move into their fifties. It is a contemporary, erotic romance. A bit of a second chance romance, too. 

Links:
Website: http://www.creativewritingwithdrnagle.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorCaraNorth
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/caranorthauthor/
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/caranorthauthor
Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/caranorth_author/?hl=en
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20650398.Cara_North
BookBub : https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cara-north
Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B002BLLE1U
TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/TTPdht9Kg1/
Patreon Page: https://www.patreon.com/musesandsirens

ER nurse Sonnet Mendoza’s new housemate Griffith Parker proves there is more to a man than meets the eye, and shows her there’s more to life than just her career.

Sonnet Coupled

Sheltered and cosseted, Sonnet Mendoza abided by her papi’s wishes her whole life: no boys, studies first and always. Now an ER nurse in a busy Chicago hospital, medical school is so close Sonnet can taste it. Just like her father always wanted. Just like she can taste all the things she wants—like Griffith Parker, the man of her dreams and her new housemate.

Working “graves” in a large hospital as a security guard while attending the police academy during the day doesn’t leave ex-Marine Griffith Parker any personal time, but after meeting the beautiful Sonnet Mendoza, business as usual is anything but. Sassy, smart…and interested in him, too? Except, she’s made an art of keeping her distance, and she’s been clear that her plans don’t include him. But the heart wants what the heart wants. His wants Sonnet. He’ll put it on the line to win her.

Buy Links for Sonnet Coupled:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sonnet-Coupled-Roxanne-D-Howard-ebook/dp/B071RCN2NX/
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sonnet-coupled-roxanne-d-howard/1126254545?ean=2940154129517
Boroughs Publishing: http://boroughspublishinggroup.com/books/sonnet-coupled
CreateSpace (paperback): https://www.createspace.com/7095055
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/sonnet-coupled
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/719258

Excerpt
Sonnet put water in the K-Carafe and listened to the hiss and gurgle of the brew as she got some organic eggs and soy milk out to scramble. She decided to make Griffith breakfast, too, even if it had to wait for him in the fridge. It was nice to have someone to look after again.

Hell, after yesterday, he deserved it. She knew she shouldn’t entertain starting something with him with medical school on the horizon, but after spending time with him, a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she was ready to start fresh and tackle her workweek. She sang a little, opened the fridge, and bent to retrieve the bacon from the bottom shelf. A sharp intake of breath filled the silence from a few feet away.

From under her arm she saw Griff, half naked in black sweat bottoms with the Police Academy logo. Her eyes drifted to the hard planes of his abs, a sculpted eight pack most men would give their left nut for. His stacked chest rose and fell, and his fists clenched. Like a current in the air, she could feel him trying to keep it together.

Her gaze trailed past his ribs and flat stomach, down the sharp V of his hip flexors, to the promise of what lay beneath.

Finally, her brain kicked in and she realized her bikini thong was on display with the globes of her ass cheeks parted and raised in the air, like she was waiting for him to grab hold and ride. Her hair chose the wrong moment to slide over her shoulder and into her face, and he let out a strangled moan.

Oh, God.

She stood and yanked the hem of her shirt down. “Jeez, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you were up. I was just about to make breakfast before I got changed.”

He gulped. Her eyes flicked to the hardened bulge of his cock, which tented against his sweats. He looked like he wanted to devour her. “I…need to use the bathroom,” he growled tightly, then marched down the hall and slammed the bathroom door.

She looked at the exposed bottom half of her panties, and rolled her eyes. “Great, Sonnet. Just great.” She turned off the stove, abandoned the breakfast food, and made her way to her bedroom. A stifled moan escaped from behind the closed bathroom door as she passed, and stopped her in her tracks.

In any other circumstance she wouldn’t give it a second thought—people moaned all the time because they were tired or relieved—but she listened. It was a certain kind of moan, one she made the first night she’d met him when she touched herself.

She heard a distinctive rhythmic thwacking of flesh upon flesh, a series of muffled pants, a grunt, and soft thud against the wall, and her pussy throbbed. She clenched her thighs together and put her palm over her mouth.

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About the Author

Roxanne D. Howard is a U.S. Army veteran who has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and children. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.

Social Media Links (for Roxanne):
Website: www.roxannedhoward.com
Newsletter: http://roxannedhoward.com/subscribe/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoxanneDHoward
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoxanneDHowardAuthor/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/roxanned.howard/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15019190.Roxanne_D_Howard