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Archive for 'romantic comedy'



Gabbi Grey: When an Angsty Author Tries to Go Rom-Com (Contest)
Thursday, August 11th, 2022

I was approached about contributing to a charity anthology and I wracked my brain for a gay romance story.  A friend had suggested Page Against the Machine as a potential name for a bookstore.  Another friend suggested The Owl’s Nest, and since the randomizer chose that, I was happy to go with it.

Great. I had a name for the bookstore in my fictional town of Mission City, British Columbia.  With Page Against the Machine, I had a title.  I already knew one character who worked at the bookstore — a free-spirited sensitive named Sunshine who was forever getting into everyone’s business.  I figured her boss would be more of a traditionalist.  Who better than a guy whose parents once owned the store and that he’d inherited?  More back and forth with different friends and I had Dickens.

Now, knowing this was a novella, I wanted a quick meet-cute and a deep dive into the relationship.  How about a motorcycle mechanic who sets up shop next to the bookstore?  Suddenly, Bookstore Dude’s quiet is disturbed by hot Motorcycle Dude.  So that made them enemies, right? Eventually, I realized I was writing an enemy-to-lovers book that had hate sex in the fourth chapter.

Of course, this being a Gabbi Grey story, I had to throw in some emotional wounds — especially for Spike the Motorcycle Dude.  And I’m not sure if this is a true rom-com, but it’s as close as I’ve come thus far in my short writing career.

Naturally, I hope you’ll snag a copy.  In the meantime, share with me your favorite enemy-to-lovers story or a good rom-com I should check out.  $5 Amazon GC to a random commenter.

Page Against the Machine Synopsis

Dickens

My tranquility is shattered when a motorcycle repair shop moves in next to my bookstore. All I want is peace and quiet. What I get is gunning engines and eighties rock music. One of us has got to go, and since I was here first, it’s the hot mechanic.

Spike

I chose Mission City to set up shop because of the weekend-enthusiast riders. I’ve dreamed of owning my own shop for years, and no one is going to run me out of town. Least of all the adorable geek Bookstore Dude.

This 25k gay romance novella is a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle. The story first appeared in the anthology Love Is All, Volume 5.

Links:
Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0B8BW6W8H
Amazon CA:  https://www.amazon.ca/Page-Against-Machine-Mission-Romance-ebook/dp/B0B8BW6W8H/
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61866363-page-against-the-machine

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Gabbi Grey lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.

Website: https://gabbigrey.com/
Newsletter sign-up:  https://sendfox.com/gabbigrey

Cindy Tanner: Accidental P*rnstar!
Monday, May 16th, 2022

One of the most common questions I’m asked as an author is where the inspiration for my stories comes from. The answer isn’t as straightforward as people expect. Like snowflakes, each story has its own unique inspiration. I usually credit my imagination, dreams, habit of people watching, and the accumulation of random facts for fueling inspiration. All of that is true. I love creating backstories for strangers across the room or speculating what the future holds for the characters after the movie credits roll. My latest release, Accidental P*rnstar is a romantic comedy I wrote a few years ago and sat on wondering if it was funny enough on paper. I was also hesitant because for once a few of the moments are (very) loosely inspired by an experience or two of mine. The rest is the idea of seeing just how many awkward and embarrassing things I could put Jules through as she falls in love for the first time. (Oops! Spoiler Alert…. Kidding… I said it’s romance. Happily ever after is a given)

I had so much fun writing this book. I decided to publish it after the last two years, which I think for everyone have been hard. It was a good escape to get lost in the quirky adventures of the characters.

Accidental P*rnstar

My college career was going great…Until it wasn’t.
I lost my job, scholarship, and apartment in a trifecta of crap luck.

The last thing I wanted to do is run back home to my parents with my tail tucked. As luck would have it, my old roommate, Mason Davis, had a compelling—if slightly unorthodox solution—to my financial dilemma.

His suggestion?
A live stream feed of me enjoying a little steamy fun with HIM. The smoking hot guy I’ve fantasized about countless times before. Surely, a tenacious bookworm like me can figure out how to let go of her inhibitions for one night.

After all, going viral is a good thing…right?

 If you want to read about Jules and Mason, get your copy here:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09B5HQXW5/
Other retailers: https://books2read.com/u/bPg91R

 

Fun times in Dead Horse, MT, continue! (Contest)
Monday, January 24th, 2022

UPDATE: The winner is…Beverly Blank!
*~*~*

So, far there are six stories in my Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT, series. Eli releases sometime after midnight tonight! And there will be more stories. Gabe is already in the works, and you’ll see a short scene featuring my hero and heroine at the end of Eli. How many more stories depends on you! If you still love the hunters, I’ll write them! See below a little of the inspiration for my little town…

Cage Preacher Hardman
 

Chase (Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT Book 4) Cowboy Eli (Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT Book 6)

 Amazon link to Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT

The next story, Gabriel, is already up for pre-order at Amazon…

I’ve had fun building this “world”—my little Montana town called Dead Horse, named after a dead horse that the town’s founders were left as a warning not to stay. That bit was a little autobiographical, because when I bought a house in a rural subdivision in Texas, the house had been empty and unsold for a while. When I walked through the house with the realtor, the next door neighbor tried to talk me out of buying it. I think he didn’t like the idea of having a neighbor next to him, so he invented some wild tales about the house and the property. When we were ready to move in, we had a little “gift” left on our walkway—a large, dead deer that someone had shot. The carcass was just left to rot and stink, and there was evidence it had been dragged there. So, there you go. Southern hospitality—or Texas hospitality. That neighbor poisoned a cat of mine, too…

In the Dead Horse series, there’s a story inside the story about how the town was named and how the hunters became a part of the town’s history. It all goes back to the first book, Cage. All along the way, I’ve introduced the characters who “people” the little town. My favorite is Nadine, the ornery waitress at the Dead Horse Walk-in Diner. (She has some funny scenes in Eli!). The town’s shops all feature that “dead” theme in their names. It’s fun and makes me smile whenever I play in Dead Horse, writing a new story.

I hope you’ve followed along, because I have more in store for Dead Horse—not just the hunters, but the townsfolk, too. I hope you’ll pick up your copy of my latest installment, Eli, or that you’re going back to pick up previous stories to catch up. I promise, they’re all fun, filled with action, sexy times, and people as real as I can write them.

Contest

I’ve run this contest before, and some of you have contributed place names!

I’ve named some of the businesses in the town: Dead Horse Walk-in Diner, Dead Easy Saloon, Dead Center Guns & Pawn, Dead Heat & Air, Dead as a Doornail Hardware (which is now closed, due to the arrest of its owner, so I suppose I need a new hardware store!), Dead End Cemetery, Deadly Delights (the bakery), Dead Horse Realty, Dem Bones Package Store, Ride or Die Body and Repair, Ride or Die Gas Station, and the Drop-Dead Gorgeous Salon. I added a street name in Eli—Casket Lane.

My challenge to you is to name a new business or street. We can have competing businesses, so you can name another hair salon or barbershop, or whatever. I’ve only named one street, so the sky’s the limit! Have fun!

Play for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Flashback: Something to Talk About (Contest — 2 Winners!)
Tuesday, December 7th, 2021

UPDATE: The winners are…Stacey Kinzebach and Laura!
*~*~*

Some of you might not be aware, but my sister and I began writing together, just over twenty years ago. These stories were our first efforts. Funny contemporaries that we set aside for years while we concentrated on writing our solo works. Then, a few years ago, we decided to revise them and put them up for sale. We never lost our love for these characters or the funny things we put them through. If you haven’t read them yet, check them out!

For a chance to win your choice of one of the Texas Billionaires Club books, answer this…

Do you love billionaire stories? Or do you prefer a blue-collar kind of hero?

Tarzan & Janine Something to Talk About Who's Your Daddy Love & War
(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

Something to Talk About

Something to Talk About

 

What happens when Martha Stewart teams up with the Oscar Madison of radio talk shows? Sparks fly, romance blooms and their audience goes wild!

Diane Denton is a cool, sophisticated home and garden talk show host on K-YAK 102.5 radio station. All she thinks she wants is to talk about fertilizer and place settings, while fending off her well-meaning country club parents’ attempts to push her into marriage with the “right man.”

To Diane, fellow talk show host, Rip O’Rourke, is nothing more than a rebellious, overgrown teenager flaunting his baseball-capped, Hawaiian-shirted, ex-football player physique to “score” with anything with breasts. Proof of his perversity is the crude, but popular, hour of programming he hosts that discusses such manly topics as wet T-shirt contests and sports statistics. Diane wouldn’t spit on Rip if he were on fire, while Rip on the other hand, wants to do more than spend time with Diane. She is a challenge to mankind as a whole and his goal in life is to see Diane’s crisp shirts and tailored slacks properly rumpled, just once.

Rip gets his opportunity when the radio station is sold to a large corporation and the station manager is challenged to come up with a prime-time show that will set the city on its ear. From one of Rip and Diane’s public arguments springs the idea of a show about the differences between men and women giving their audience, “Something to Talk About.”

Order Ebook: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books | Google Play

Order Print: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million | IndieBound | The Book Depository

Excerpt from Something to Talk About

Their boss and station manager, Dave Lebcowitz, stepped into the room at just that moment. The high-spirited chatter halted. Anxious faces turned in his direction.

“Good afternoon, team.” Dave’s voice carried like a sonic boom in a cardboard box. “I know you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. I don’t want to keep you hanging, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Dave glanced around the room, drawing out the pause.

Casey held her breath. Dave only acted this way when he was about to announce something big—something they weren’t going to like. Despite her belief superstition was for ignorant people, Casey crossed her fingers in her lap. Please don’t cut my show.

“The station’s been bought out by ROR International.”

Pandemonium broke out, and everybody spoke at once. A buy-out usually meant one thing. Someone, maybe a lot of someones, would lose his or her job.

Dave raised both hands, “Quiet now, everyone.” He waited until the noise subsided before continuing. “I just got off the phone with the new management team. They’ve been studying our ratings and haven’t recommended any personnel or timeslot changes, yet.”

“What do you mean—yet?” Casey demanded. “We all know what happened to that station in Denver they bought out six months ago. It’s pretty much a turn-key operation now. Most of their programming comes from nationally syndicated shows.”

“Well, they did express concern about our ratings,” Dave admitted, “but I talked them into giving us a little breathing space—a chance to prove ourselves as part of their new team.”

“Were they amenable to the idea?” Rip asked.

“They agreed to give us two months,” Dave responded.

Casey frowned. “A kind of trial period?”

“Yes.” Dave turned to pace the length of the conference table. “The problem is we’re not rock ‘n roll. We’re not rap. Face it—we’re not sexy. We’re talk radio. We’ve been losing market share steadily in our ‘morning drive’ slot ever since Jack the Yak left. We need to change that.”

“Any suggestions on how to turn that around?” Rip asked.

“We need something different. Something that will get the entire city listening and talking. Ladies and gentlemen,” he looked around the room at each face, pausing on Rip, who was poking holes in his paper coffee cup with a pen, “…and Rip, if we don’t come up with something big, we’re all likely to be out of jobs.”

He took a deep breath and continued, “Having said that, I called you together to brainstorm a new idea for our morning drive. We need something that will set this city on its ear.”

As the others settled into discussion, Casey sat silent, racking her brain for an idea. With a quick look around the room, she made a mental inventory of the current lineup.

Dan Rice had the hourly news segment. Not much you could do with that. Randy Gaither had “Mechanic’s Corner” in the mornings right after the morning drive timeslot. Evelyn Krinard hosted the late-night jazz segment on the weekends, and Trish Yarborough was the resident gossip columnist, mixing national with local celebrity news, in the hour following the evening drive hour. With disgust, Casey noted Trish’s attention was fully tuned in to Rip O’Rourke, the resident macho man who hosted the coveted evening commuter’s show and the “Just for Men” program after ten o’clock. She stopped her perusal there.

Casey pursed her lips. She couldn’t understand what she’d seen in him. His square jaw and many-times-broken nose, combined with his ice-blue eyes and dark chestnut-colored hair, were certainly arresting. His belly, as yet, hadn’t turned to flab despite his hedonistic appetites, and his shoulders strained the seams of his shirt, almost to the point of bursting. She hated to admit his exterior certainly had its charms.

But, he was rude, slovenly, and uncouth. A no-necked, ex-jock with the perfect combination of misogynistic qualities that made his show, featuring a mix of sports and male-oriented chatter, so popular.

She’d originally been attracted to his ruggedly handsome face and physique, and ignored warnings of his womanizing tendencies. For once, she’d followed her instincts and gone out with someone her mother would never approve of. And she’d been sadly disappointed when he’d lived up to his reputation, and then some. And he probably still had the paint to prove it.

Despite her own lack of interest, other women loved him. They fell all over themselves to be with Rip O’Rourke, case in point: Bambi. Sliding her gaze upward to his face, she found him watching her.

He winked.

She glared back, and then dropped her gaze, trying to get control of the heat suffusing her cheeks. Casey stared at his chest for a moment before she noticed the T-shirt he wore beneath his open Hawaiian shirt. “Good grief, O’Rourke. Can’t you find something more—” Casey gave up searching for the right word and said what she thought, “—more adult?”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, grinning. “What’s the matter, Cramer? Don’t you like my hairy chest?” He turned toward the rest of the group and pulled the shirt open wider. His T-shirt sported a drawing of curly hair and a belly button.

“Of course not,” she replied sharply. “It’s crude and disgusting.”

“Don’t be such a prude, sweetheart. Haven’t you ever run your fingers through a man’s chest hair before? Or don’t the men you date have any?”

Embarrassed by the turn of the conversation, Casey pursed her lips. “It’s none of your business what I have or have not run my fingers through. That shirt belongs in a frat house—not a workplace. It’s as bad as the T-shirt you loaned me the other day.”

“That’s just your opinion, Cramer. Shall we poll the rest of the group to see if they feel the same?”

Glancing around the room, she was startled to realize the “Rip and Casey Show” held center stage. Even Dave was quiet, a speculative gleam in his eye, as though he waited for the next shot to be fired.

“All right,” Rip continued, “all those who like the T-shirt and don’t think it’s childish or—more to the point—don’t care, raise your hands.”

Most of the guys raised their hands. Trish smiled, raised hers, and batted her eyes at Rip.

Rip turned to Casey with a triumphant look on his face.

“Only the majority of the male half of this room agreed with you,” Casey pointed out, discounting Trish’s vote. “Obviously, you don’t have a clue about a woman’s preferences,” she said, with a smug expression of her own.

Au contraire, Cramer. The only thing that’s obvious is you don’t know how to loosen up and have fun. You’re so stiff, I bet you even starch your underwear.”

Starched underwear? He had nerve. “I. Do. Not,” she said through gritted teeth.

Rip’s eyebrow rose. “Prove it.”

“I will not, you moronic, prepubescent buffoon. Why don’t you grow up?”

“I will as soon as you learn to loosen up. I’d like to see you when your shirt’s wrinkled and your hair’s messed up. Or you have salsa all over your chest. That’s when I can almost mistake you for a mere mortal like the rest of us.”

“That’s it!” Dave shouted.

Every person in the room turned startled gazes to the man standing at the head of the conference table. Dave’s color was heightened, and he had a feverish gleam in his eyes. “That’s it!” he repeated.

“What’s it, Dave?” Rip asked.

“That’s our show.” He clapped his hands together like a child at the circus.

“What are you talking about?” Casey stared around the room, certain she had missed something.

“The whole reason we’re in this room,” Dave answered, excitement staining his cheeks red. “Pay attention, you two. We’ll do a show on male versus female opinions with Casey and Rip as the co-hosts.”

 

Open Offers!

  1. C. Marie Bowen: Witch the Well (GIVEAWAY–Ends 11/30!) — Pay no attention to that deadline! You can still get your FREE Soul of the Witch story at https://dl.bookfunnel.com/qzclji8dgr!
  2. What have you binged lately? (Contest)This one ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
  3. #KissApp HOTTER WITH A POLE is on KISS! (Contest–4 Winners!) — This one ends soon! Win 20 KISS coins!
  4. Getting “Holiday Ready” (Puzzle Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
  5. St. Nick’s Night (Contest) — Win a FREE book!
Cowboy’s coming in 5 Days! (Contest & Excerpt)
Thursday, October 21st, 2021

UPDATE: The winner is…Charlene Whitehouse!
*~*~*
Cowboy

Coming next Tuesday!
Order your copy now!

I’m writing my stumpy fingers to the bone to get this book done! I have to load it TOMORROW! But the good news is I’m almost there! I can’t wait for you to read Cowboy and Colleen’s story next Tuesday! They’re a mess. Or at least, she is. And fun and funny! My girl’s a beautiful girl carrying some extra pounds, and Cowboy has his work cut out for him convincing her she’s the only one for him. And of course, you have the entire Dead Horse crew interfering/assisting in their romance. I’m soooo going to hate it when I run out of Dead Horse bounty hunter stories. Maybe I’ll have to write some Dead Horse resident stories after that… I think Nadine needs a man.

Anyways, happy Thursday! Wish me luck. Just a few pages more…

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of my Montana Bounty Hunter stories, tell me whether you’ve read any of my bounty hunter stories! If so, which was your favorite? If not, why the heck not?

An excerpt from Cowboy…

He was sleeping with the back of his head against the wall and a cowboy hat tilted over his face to shut out the overhead lights. His chair was a curved hard plastic and looked tiny in comparison to his large body. He wore jeans, very scuffed cowboy boots, and a plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows with the sleeves of a thermal shirt stretched to his wrists. The hat shouted that he probably wasn’t from around here, but the thermal shirt in mid-October sealed it.

Colleen Bradley lowered the top of her magazine just a little more to give his body a onceover, knowing she was safe because no one else was around to see her ogling the hot cowboy.

Lord have mercy, the man had muscles on his muscles, a thick chest, tapered waist, thighs like tree trunks. The beard sprouting on his cheeks and chin was dark, maybe black. She wished she could see more of his face so she’d have a reason to lose interest. No way could he be handsome as well or the world would just be too cruel.

A man like that wasn’t meant for a woman with curves too soft and rounded. He’d need a woman with stamina, while she huffed and puffed climbing the stairs up to her apartment on the second floor. Well, it didn’t hurt to look.

Until it did.

Suddenly, he straightened in his chair and tipped back his hat.

Damn, the man was fine, fine, fine.

He stood, removed his hat, and raked a hand through his short black hair.

Darn, he wasn’t bald. Did the man have any flaws? Maybe he had a high squeaky voice. Maybe he was gay—which would be disappointing, but then she’d turn her eyes elsewhere. Maybe he had a horrible temper, was a narcissist—someone as hot as he was might be entitled to think he was the moon and stars and all that

He turned to peer into the room he sat outside of, his hands on either side of the wide doorframe, which gave her a view of his toned back and ass, and man, she had the sinking suspicion the man really was perfect.

His gaze shot sideways, toward her, and she quickly lifted her magazine to cut off the sight of him. Maybe he wouldn’t know she’d been eating him up with her gaze for a while now. How embarrassing would it be to see him smirk? And again, how disappointing. Then again, if he was a jerk, he’d be a whole lot less fascinating.

Colleen lowered the magazine to find him staring right at her.

“Was I snorin’?”

Shit, was that a southern drawl? “What?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t been watching him while he’d slept.

“You know, that magazine’s upside down.”

Her jaw dropped, and she glanced down at the magazine. It was not upside down.

“You had to look, though, didn’t ya?” A grin stretched across his handsome face, revealing two perfect dimples in his cheeks.

Flashback: The Pleasure Bot (Contest–3 Winners!)
Monday, December 7th, 2020

UPDATE: The winners are…Evie, Amanda, and Linda Richter!
*~*~*

Back in the day when I wrote strictly erotic romances… There was the little book that could…

The Pleasure Bot was a story I loved writing. I smiled my way through it. The story has some of my favorite tropes—mistaken identity and hiding in plain sight. Add a playful and annoying personnel AI computer, a pirate with a sense of humor, and a woman who thinks she only wants to get off—and you have it.

The story played well with reviewers:

  • Nominated for Best Erotic Romance and 4 ½ Stars and TOP PICK! from Romantic Time BookClub Magazine, “…Hot sex, sidesplitting humor and an out-of-this-world story set this erotica apart from the rest!”
  • Also, 5 Flames from Sizzling Romances; 5 Stars from Just Erotic Romances; 5 Stars from eCataRomance

Give it a go! The Pleasure Bot is book 4 in the Planet Desire series but is completely standalone. It exists in that universe, but the characters never cross paths. And isn’t that cover just lickable?

The Pleasure Bot

ThePleasureBot_400

4 ½ Stars and TOP PICK! from RT BookClub Magazine, “…Hot sex, sidesplitting humor and an out-of-this-world story set this erotica apart from the rest!”

Bringing new meaning to battery operated boyfriend…

Priscilla Potter rents the latest sex toy, a better-than-lifelike pleasure robot, for a little weekend R&R. However, her fantasy companion isn’t quite what she expected. He’s unshaven, uncouth, and doesn’t seem to understand she’s in charge of her own pleasure. But she soon decides the on-line shop got the order just right. As the weekend draws to a close, she has to find a way to keep her robot past its return date.

Bootlegging “entrepreneur” Declan O’Hanlon needs a place to lay low until he can figure out how to liberate his crew and ship from Customs impound. The “uninhabited” house he picks for his hideout actually belongs to a sex kitten who mistakes him for her latest toy. Intrigued by the idea of being a woman’s fantasy come true, Declan does what any red-blooded man would do–he pretends to be her acquisition. But he doesn’t count on Priss being quite so irresistible. As the time depart nears he wonders how he can ever leave her behind.

Kindle | Nook | Kobo | iBooks | Google

The Contest

I’ll give away a free download of any of the Planet Desire stories to three lucky commenters! Just let me know if humor is something you like in a story!

Desire's Prisoner Desire's Slave PlanetDesire_600

Click on the covers to learn more!

The Pleasure Bot Raptor’s Desire

Aimee Brown: Nora Ephron is my inner voice…
Sunday, September 20th, 2020

It was the summer of 1993, and I was fifteen years old when Sleepless in Seattle came out in theaters. I honestly don’t even remember trailers on TV for it, so I don’t remember ever anticipating seeing it, but my parents liked going to the movies as a family and this was the one they chose that weekend. I remember a lot of the movies we saw when I was in high school because back then, there was no internet, no Netflix, no streaming shows of any kind. If it wasn’t on cable or out at the Blockbuster, you didn’t see it. Some of the movies I sat through just because it was something to do, were not my favorites. The Bodyguard (first date I ever went on!). Death Becomes Her. The Nightmare Before Christmas (second date I ever went on and he didn’t even want to see it…). Hocus Pocus (this was magical in the theater!). The list goes on and on. But in the summer after my Freshman year of high school we saw one movie that stuck with me for ever and started me on a spiral of nineties romcom watching that has stuck with me to this day.

I had never heard of Nora Ephron before that day at the theater. But her words mesmerized me from the moment the first line was spoken. Every piece of the film fell together in a way that sunk so deeply into my soul I knew I would never be the same. I fell in love with the characters, the music, the story, the setting, and the romance. I laughed. I cried. I swooned. It filled my heart with joy and made me a believer in love from a young age even more so than Disney ever did for me as a child. I’m not even gonna lie, I wanted to marry me a Tom Hanks. Who freaking didn’t?

As a child I was never that kid dreaming about what I was going to do when I grow up. I honestly cannot remember a single moment in my childhood where I even really sat down and thought about what I wanted to do as a career. I became a mom incredibly young, at the age of nineteen, and stayed home with my children throughout their younger years. When I was sick of watching A Bugs Life or Veggie Tales for the five thousandth time, I would watch romantic comedies. I would buy a DVD every time we went grocery shopping. Father of the Bride 1 & 2. You’ve Got Mail. While You Were Sleeping. It Could Happen to You. I could list a hundred that I seriously know all the words to. But Sleepless and Seattle will forever hold a special place in my heart.

One day after watching the movie, my kids went down for a nap. I think I was about twenty-seven at this point. For some reason, I sat down at my computer and started writing. That ‘story’, if you could call it that, was such a mess. But it was full of the magic that Sleepless in Seattle brought me and even though it would never be published and was lost some years ago when that computer died, the feelings I had when I wrote that book were the same I had way back in 1993 when romcom came into my life. I knew right then and there I was a romantic comedy writer.

Twenty-seven years ago, I had no idea that all these years later Nora Ephron would somehow become my inner voice, pushing me to write my very own romcoms and allowing other people to publish them and read them. It is amazing to think that a woman I have never met, never spoken to, and will literally never know, inspired my entire career. And to her, I am forever thankful.

Love Me Like You Do

A runaway bride. A handsome stranger. Two pasts to put behind them.

Parker is ready to marry the man of her dreams. But he isn’t ready to marry her. When she’s dumped moments before walking down the aisle, she didn’t expect to run into the arms of a handsome stranger. The southern drawl, the dreamy eyes, she can’t fall for another man after being left at the altar – can she?

When Liam agreed to go on yet another blind date, he didn’t expect his escape would lead him to the emergency room with a runaway bride. She might have just been left at the altar, but he’s immediately drawn to her fiery spirit, kind heart and beautiful smile. Liam’s got a whole host of problems and a past that’s haunting him, now can’t be the time to fall in love, but Parker might just be the one to break down his barriers and let him live a little – if she’ll let him in.

Will these two strangers allow serendipity to force them together, or will their fears keep them apart?

From the bestselling author of The Lucky Dress comes a story about love, finding yourself and living your dreams.

Universal Amazon link: mybook.to/LoveMeLikeYouDo

About the Author

Aimee Brown is a writer of sweary, swoony romantic comedies set in Portland, Oregon. She writes closed-door romance (NO sex scenes, light kissing) with humor and crude language. She spends much of her time writing, raising three kids (who are all nearly grown now), binge-watching shows on Netflix and obsessively cleaning and redecorating her house. She’s fluent in sarcasm and has been known to utter profanities like she’s competing for a medal.

Aimee grew up in Oregon but is now a transplant living in cold Montana with her husband of twenty+ years, one of three children, and far too many pets. She is a lot older than she looks and yes, that is a tattoo across her chest.

Aimee is very active on social media. She’d love to have you stop by and say hi!

Aimee’s links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AimeeBWrites
Facebook: https://facebook.com/AuthorAimeeBrown
Instagram: https://instagram.com/AuthorAimeeB
Website: https://mfeoromance.com/