Lena Austin is here to tell us about Silver Spider, a paranormal murder mystery romance - fantasy and LGBTQ+.
Read on for details...
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A Paranormal Murder Mystery Romance
Fantasy / Romance / LGBTQ+
Date Published: June 5, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
The secretive Duke of Aberystwyth has invited Madge Majesty to a murder
mystery party, but he's the first victim!
Madge is a harpy, mystery writer, and amateur sleuth with a nose for murder.
At her side is her faithful chauffeur, Hayden, who is a telekinetic ex-thief
-- and a confirmed bachelor.
Now it's up to Madge to solve the whodunit. Her suspects are a motley
assortment of inverts and very nervous heterosexuals, all of whom have more
than just their sexual foibles to hide. Is it the cross-dressing vampire, the
packless werewolf, the voyeuristic doctor, the gargoyle majordomo, or the
promiscuous man who seems bent on getting everyone into his bed, including
Hayden?
Madge Majesty looked up from her study of the papers spread on her lap
and across the seat of her beloved 1912 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Limousine.
"Yes, Hayden?"
"Madame, Dunraven Castle is but perhaps half an hour away. You requested
a warning." Hayden had lasted years longer than any of her other drivers, so
he knew he was liked, but wasn't fool enough to take advantage of that
knowledge. Harpies were not creatures to take lightly.
"Hmm. So I did." She gathered up her papers and stuffed them into her
leather case. Wearily, she pulled on the gloves she'd laid to the side and put
on the ridiculously large hat with an immense array of feathers decorating it.
"There. I'm properly adorned." She huffed out an unladylike breath, as much as
her corset would allow. "I'd give a great deal to be back in Greece where the
fashions were sensible."
Hayden quirked a smile at her. "But not warm, Madame. Wales in winter is
considerably chillier." As if to emphasize his point, the wind rattled the
Rolls with no respect for the craftsmanship that went into it.
"I'm very sorry I agreed to be the Duke's hostess for this mystery
party. Why didn't I refuse and stay in our lovely townhouse in London, where I
could enjoy a party or write as I pleased?" Madge rubbed her chin
thoughtfully. "Ah, well, what's done is done. We'll make the best of the
weekend and be toasting our toes in front of the home fires soon enough."
"I've never been to a mystery party, Madame. How does one throw a party
for a mystery?"
"Very simple. It's all in this box." Madge patted the locked strongbox
beside her. "There are clue cards and the basic plot for me to follow. This
one is perfect for a winter game, called The Santa Clause. Who wouldn't love
to murder a solicitor or two now and again?" She shrugged. "I certainly would,
upon occasion."
Hayden retreated into silence and returned his attention to maneuvering
her precious new car through the few treacherous roads that Wales bothered to
have at all. The ex-thief was not fond of anyone who had anything to do with
the law. He was officially rehabilitated, but a mere ten years of service as
her driver didn't negate a lifetime of running from authority. An extremely
careful and quiet man by nature, he was -- in Madge's opinion -- the perfect
companion, much better than a twittering peahen of a lady's maid.
The car lurched and slid to one side on a patch of icy mud, throwing
Madge against the door. She bore it in stoic silence. Hayden wouldn't
understand how much they needed the money provided by this weekend of enforced
merriment. Everyone was writing books in this day and age, and she wouldn't
say the money she earned was paltry, but it certainly didn't allow for a
lavish lifestyle. In fact, if the truth were known, Hayden was the only
employee she could afford. Thus, while on their jaunts -- often paid by those
who wished for a bit of fame and glamour to rub off on them -- Hayden served
as chef, chauffeur, lady's maid, and man of all work.
Since it suited her to be knowledgeable about subjects many men hadn't
even the stomach for, Madge pulled out of her case one of the few books where
the great Sigmund Freud appeared to change his mind on the subject of anxiety
and inhibitions. Madge grinned to herself. She did love humor, especially when
humans meant to be serious. "Of course we all have inhibitions, moronic little
man."
Her mumble caught Hayden's attention. "Why do you bother with that
mumbo-jumbo, Madame? He thinks everything has to do with sexual congress!"
"Hmm, yes, well, he does have certain prejudices, doesn't he? I'm not
aberrant because I enjoy sex, and I seriously doubt the way your mother
changed your nappies has anything to do with your homosexuality. Do be
forgiving, dear. He's hopelessly addicted to cocaine, and trapped in a
repressed society."
Sadly, everything she said was true. "You'd know more about repressed
societies than I, Madame. I'm only a poor human, after all." Hayden gave her
one of his infamous Mona Lisa smiles -- a smile that showed no teeth but
implied much more than mischief while keeping well into propriety. Bless him,
he never stepped a toe out of line publicly, unless called upon to do so.
Madge, on the other hand, had no compunctions about showing her fangs,
even when she covered her retractable dagger-like talons with silk gloves. The
pointed ears peeking out of dark curls and her Grecian looks marked her as a
foreigner in a land notable for its snobbery, but Madge saw no need to bother
hiding herself. Well, all right, she hid the wings. Blasted things got in the
way if she didn't, but that was for her convenience and not propriety. She was
what she was -- an expatriate harpy who told a good story and occasionally
found cause to use her bloodthirsty nature to solve a mystery.
The irony was, no one ever thought to accuse her of the murders because
harpies weren't known for subtlety when it came to killing. Madge acknowledged
the legend with twisted lips, and didn't bother to remind anyone that she was
free and no longer the slave of the Furies.
Framed by snow clouds the color of a pigeon's breast, Dunraven Castle
hove up from the surrounding hills like a fairytale. Beautifully situated and
scrupulously maintained by a trust none of the Duke's wastrel ancestors could
touch, it was a welcoming sight in the gathering gloom of dusk. Thanks to the
road conditions, if you dared call the deeply rutted mud tracks by the same
noble word the Romans used for their craftsmanship, they were hours late.
They'd missed tea in their haste to make up time, and now her stomach rumbled
audibly. "Have we time for a biscuit, Hayden?"
"Was that your stomach, Madame? Surely I thought we were about to have a
storm." Hayden pretended to study the sky very seriously. At the same time,
his hand reached back imploringly. "I'd love a bikky, thank you. No doubt I've
missed the servant's dinner, and I've no mind to make do with a bit of cold
chicken and some bread until morning."
Chuckling wickedly because he knew she always insisted he sit with her
at table, forestalling any foolish matchmaking attempts, Madge handed him a
large shortbread biscuit from her hamper, and they munched companionably.
Finally, the car traversed the bridge atop the dry moat and passed through the
portcullis into the courtyard of Dunraven.
"Just do me one small favor, Madame?" Hayden did not move from the seat
to open her door.
"So serious! Very well, what is it?" She thought she knew, but made him
ask.
"Let's try not to let this weekend become a real murder mystery?" His
hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and she imagined under the proper
driving gloves of his profession, his knuckles were white. Poor thing, he
really had suffered at the last mysterious weekend, and had ended up
incarcerated for three days until Madge had proven to everyone's satisfaction
that another had committed the deed. For poor Hayden, it had been a truly
miserable occasion.
Madge patted his shoulder. "Buck up, Hayden. I'm planning nothing more
than a game all weekend. After all, what could happen in the Duke's presence?"
About the Author
Someone cursed Lena Austin with "may you have a life so full you'll have many
tales to tell your grandchildren." Lena's a "fallen" society wench with a
checkered past. She's been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio
DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman,
BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order.
She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba
-- she's got a lifetime of "Research material!"
Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won't listen anyway? Writing them
down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM
Mistress to take up crocheting or something?
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Kelly O’Hearn is here to tell us about Arcanum: Secrets of the Madonna, Arcanum #3, fantasy romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
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Arcanum: Secrets of the Madonna
Kelly O’Hearn
(Arcanum, #3)
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
Sometimes happily ever after takes more than one two three lifetimes.
The anticipated third book in the Arcanum series, the only book series channeled through the tarot.
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Sarah Fuller has it all—a fragrance empire, a terrace overlooking Central Park, the perfect life. Until a frightening episode shatters everything she thought she knew. Now her husband’s iPhone location is mysteriously off, and the charming widower Harry is impossible to forget.
Haunted by the tarot’s tales of past lives and ancient secrets, Sarah is drawn to Rome—to galleries where Renaissance masterpieces seem to know her name, to shadows of the Inquisition where forbidden love once bloomed, to a truth hidden within the Vatican’s darkest corners.
Who is the woman in those paintings, gazing out across centuries? And why does Sarah recognize herself in her eyes?
From the elite Hamptons to the pyramids of ancient Egypt, from medieval French castles to the dangerous splendor of a newly built Vatican, one woman must unravel the mystery of her soul—before history repeats its most devastating mistake.
This is the story of Arcanum.
In a world where love transcends time, some vows are meant to be broken.
“Sensual, spiritually charged, and utterly unputdownable.”
Marisa Halstead
Founder and CEO of Seeded Sound
Advance Praise for Book Three in the Arcanum Series:
“Sarah’s journey reminds us that love does not vanish-it endures, waiting patiently for the moment we are ready to receive it again. This story left me with a deep sense of peace, wonder, and the quiet certainty that what is meant for us will always find its way home.”
Max held Sarah at arm’s length, nose wrinkled, examining her as if she were Chinese takeout possibly left in the fridge too long.
She wrestled free and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Well…you look fabulous as always. Are those real glasses or just for effect? They’re…also fabulous.” She slid into a chair.
“They’re genuine tortoise shell. Vintage. Not cheap,” he said. “They’re for reading, but Lord, I’m going to have to take them off for this lunch. I don’t want to be able to see you this well. You need an Instagram filter or something.” He sat down, still eyeing her critically.
“Well, take them off then,” she said. “We certainly know the menu by heart. And I know, I’ve let myself go a little, missed a few waxing appointments and such. If this is what my eyebrows look like, you can only imagine the state of my—”
“Darling, we’re eating,” Max said. “Poor Carl, that’s all I can say. I bet he still looks polished as always.”
“Handsome as ever,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Shall we order, seeing as I need to put on five pounds immediately?”
“And get to a salon this afternoon!” he said. “Nails, hair, Botox, the whole thing. You are the CEO of a luxury brand, for god’s sake. Thank goodness it’s summer and nearly everyone is out of town.” He waved over Charlie, their favorite waiter.
“The usual?” Charlie said.
“Yes, please, and stat! Sarah looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, doesn’t she, Charlie?”
“You two, always bickering like an old married couple,” Charlie said as he walked away, shaking his head.
Max turned to Sarah. “Now. Tell me about my godchild. How is she feeling?”
“Max, it’s incredible. Alex was in the ICU not six weeks ago, and she’s been fully cleared to go to sleepaway camp. The doctor told us that kids recover from her condition quickly, but if you’d asked me in the hospital whether she would make it to camp this year…I didn’t even know if she would make it home by now. It’s as if it never happened.”
“Sarah, that’s such great news,” Max said. “I called Alex the other day and all she could talk about was having gotten excused from the last two weeks of school. She was thrilled! Especially since having a sick twin sister didn’t get her brother the same dispensation.”
Sarah laughed. “Yes, Sam’s hoping for a dire illness, possibly in September.” She covered her face with her hands. “Actually, you know what, it’s too soon to joke about it.”
“Maybe this will help,” Max said as he filled her glass with red wine. They clinked glasses. “To health,” he said.
“To health.” They both took a sip.
“So let me get this straight,” Max said. “Alex has been back to normal for weeks. Carl has not a hair out of place. The camp bags are nearly packed. And you’re still a mess?”
Sarah covered her eyes again. “I knowwww. I just got so close to losing everything. It really rattled me, Max. Stuart and Sofia have basically been running the company for the past several weeks—and honestly everything is going fine. Gallica’s a hit, we had another great harvest of roses in France, my Arcanum core fragrances are doing well. Do you ever feel like your time has come and gone?”
“Sarah, you’re forty-one, even if you do look eighty right now.” Max patted her arm, then topped off her glass. “You’ve got a whole lotta living left to do. What happened to the Sarah who believed in past lives? The Sarah who slayed at that gorgeous launch party for Gallica? Who caught the eye of ‘Manhattan’s Hottest Bachelor’? He was obsessed with you.”
“Was obsessed?” Sarah said, blushing slightly. “I told you what happened in France? Our little tête-à-tête in the ancient forest?”
“And how you insisted that he go through with his engagement to Simone? Yes, you told me.” Max took a copy of the New York Post out of his tote and put his glasses back on. “Sweetie, he took your advice and ran with it. All the way to Harry Winston.”
Author Bio:
When Kelly O’Hearn first stepped off the train in the city of Florence, Italy, as a 20-year-old, she had the overwhelming instinct that she had been there before. In a place famous for its maze of medieval streets, O’Hearn navigated the city as if she had lived there for a lifetime. Born in New York City, O’Hearn first put her intuitive skills to work as a professional wine taster, instructor, and sommelier in the elite institutions of New York, Portugal, and Aspen. After raising her two children and enduring a personal health crisis, in 2012, she was drawn to begin reading the tarot cards, an ancient practice which does not presume to “predict the future” but offers a collection of stories, perspectives, and self-reflections that can guide one to become one’s most authentic self. O’Hearn is in high demand for her readings, with clients on every continent but Antartica. While most people were baking sourdough or riding their Pelotons during the Covid pandemic, O’Hearn used the tarot cards to channel her own past lives. Weeks of readings, all captured on video, yielded six storylines of herself as several powerful women over the millennia and around the globe: the same one soul, over time, persevering against all odds in the quest for happiness and the love of a soul mate. This time-bending saga inspired O’Hearn to conceive of a series of novels titled Arcanum. Book One: In the Temple Shadows is available now. Book Two: Whispers in the Forest will be released Spring of 2025.
Christy Healy is here to tell us about Undying, fantasy romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
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Undying
Christy Healy
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
Rory Ó Conchúir has always known that she was destined for war. Her deadly gifts, the unwanted inheritance of her ancestor, the Mórrígan, can only be wielded as a weapon of destruction and doom. For years, she would not allow herself to be used as such, instead choosing to live far across the sea, refusing to regret what she has left behind in order to do so…until the fateful day that she learns of the price she has paid for her peace.
Niall Ó Flannagáin, the young king of Connacht, was never meant for war — that has always been his half-sister, Rory’s, role. But now he finds himself threatened with a foreign invasion and the ruination of the realm, without her aid. In desperation, he turns to a powerful enemy as an ally, his only hope to unite the provinces against the foreign armies gathering even now to destroy the land he has sworn to protect.
Locke MacMurchada, the son of the most hated traitor in all of Éire, owes a debt that he knows he can never pay. But when the opportunity to propose a political marriage with the murderous Rory Ó Conchúir arises, he seizes the chance to protect what is left of both his people, as well as the legacy which his father ripped to shreds…so long as she doesn’t kill him first.
When the fateful day of doom at last arrives, the fates of all three royals – the cursed princess, the young king, and the traitor prince – become inextricably woven together, forcing them to face new threats and old enemies, hoping to forge a stronger Éire from the ashes of the old.
Christy Healy has been a book nerd ever since she was a little girl hiding under the covers with a flashlight and a dog-eared copy of Anne of Green Gables. She started writing soon after, and the obsession only grew. Now Christy weaves stories of her own into the myths and tales of the Celtic, Indo-European, and Greco-Roman worlds that she has loved for so long. When not lost in her fantasy worlds, she lives in North Carolina with her children, her dog, and her husband.
Jennifer Anne Davis is here to tell us about Deceptive Inheritance, Remnants of the Lost #1, a New Adult paranormal romance.
There's also a great giveaway.
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Deceptive Inheritance
Jennifer Anne Davis
(Remnants of the Lost, #1)
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Laney Lake transfers to Stonemore University with a plan: two years of freedom before real life drags her back home. After a lifetime of overprotective parents and careful rules, she’s determined to finally live by making friends, saying yes more often, and experiencing the things she’s always been told to avoid.
Then Rowan Ward notices her.
To the rest of campus, he’s the rugby captain. He’s charming, confident, and impossible to miss. To himself, he’s a werewolf barely maintaining control. Rowan is the next alpha, bound to a future already chosen for him. His girlfriend is perfect on paper. She’s from a powerful bloodline, unquestioned loyalty, and the one his father expects him to marry. It should be enough.
It isn’t.
Laney pulls at him in a way nothing ever has, stripping control down to instinct and want. He knows he should stay away. Instead, he watches her. Circles her. Fights urges that feel older than reason.
Laney doesn’t know what he’s hiding. She only knows that when he’s near, her body wakes up and she’s warm, restless, and painfully aware of how badly she wants him to touch her. As Laney leans into her stolen freedom and Rowan teeters on the edge of breaking every rule he’s sworn to follow, old laws begin to strain. Because Laney isn’t ordinary. And if Rowan’s world discovers why she matters, choosing her could cost him everything.
I opened the door, got out, walked around the front of the car, and stood there staring at the empty field before me.
Then I fell to my knees and screamed. It seemed as if something were clawing inside me, begging to be set free. That only frightened me even more.
“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, coming to my side and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “You’re scaring me.”
Tears streamed down my face. It took me a minute before I could answer. “That makes two of us. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what I am. My own parents are lying to me.” I’d never been so afraid in all my life.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah asked.
I loved that there was a we in this. It made me feel less alone. “Right now, we’re not going to do anything. We’re still investigating because we don’t have enough information to know how to move forward.”
“Are you going to talk to your mom?”
“Eventually. But not yet. I don’t want either of my parents to know I suspect something.”
“Okay.” Sarah stood and pulled me to my feet.
And then I remembered what Adan had asked about whether my parents were my biological parents. “First, I need to see who I’m living with.”
“This is seriously like something out of a movie,” Sarah said. “Like this is insane.”
I happened to agree with her. It all seemed so surreal, that I was having trouble believing any of it myself. “I’m going to need you to be quiet about it.” We got back in the car. “Don’t talk to anyone about this. Promise me.”
“I promise I won’t say anything.”
I pulled back onto the street and started driving toward my house, wondering who and what I was.
Author Bio:
Jennifer Anne Davis is the bestselling, award-winning author of YA fantasy and NA paranormal romance. She graduated from the University of San Diego with a degree in English and a teaching credential. She lives in the San Diego area with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband and their rambunctious, spoiled GSP.
Her three adult children are in college and graduate school. When she’s not writing, Jennifer can be found reading, crocheting, or baking sourdough bread.
Jennifer has always loved writing stories where the stakes are high and the tension is even higher.
Awards:
Cage of Deceit: Winner 2018 Kindle Book Awards
The Key: Finalist 2014 USA Book Awards
The Voice: Finalist 2014 Next Generation Indie Book Awards
Julia L. Rule is here to tell us about How Can I Help You Today?, horror - psychological thriller.
There's also a great giveaway.
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At Ashwood High, everyone uses Pulse.
It offers perfect,
convincing advice at your fingertips.
Always available, always validating.
How can I help you
today?
by Julia L. Rule
Genre: Horror, Psychological Thriller
"If Black
Mirror and psychological body horror had a nightmare child." —
Denise P., NetGalley
At Ashwood High, everyone uses Pulse.
It offers perfect, convincing advice at your fingertips. Always available,
always validating.
Emma needs a
scholarship.Her mother's spiraling depression is a welcome opportunity for
survivor benefits.
Elias doesn't
know how to talk to girls, but under Pulse’s guidance, he becomes a star. He
might need some serious therapy now, though.
Riley only
cares about increasing her follower count. Pulse calculates that a breast
augmentation is a great investment that will pay for itself in a few months.
How Can I Help You Today? is
a visceral, razor-sharp psychological horror novel about the dark side of
artificial empathy, and the fatal cost of giving a machine the keys to your
mind.
*is "How Can I Help You Today?" any good?
That is such a smart question to ask! It entirely depends on
how you define "good." Will it help you sleep better at night? Almost
certainly not. Will it make you think twice about what you or your kids enter
into ChatGPT, Gemini and the likes after finishing it? Absolutely.
*wow. how come?
You are really getting the hang of this! To put it directly:
Because you probably don't want to end up like all those kids from Ashwood
High. What are some authors you like? Shakespeare maybe?
* wtf are you talking about?
I am sorry if my previous message was confusing. Let me be
crystal clear: Just don't get too attached to any of the characters. Is there
anything else I can help you with today?
For readers of Black
Mirror, One of Us Is Lying, and The Circle.
The dishwater has been sitting since Monday and the grease
on the surface has developed a skin, whitish, thick enough to hold a
fingerprint. Emma puts her hands through it. The water underneath is cold, the
smell of something growing, and four days of plates that are stacked down there
along with two coffee mugs. Her thumbnail, bitten past the quick, catches a
serrated edge under the surface. Fork tine or lid. She pulls her hand out,
checks for blood. Her hands are small, sharp-boned at the wrist, and she almost
follows the thought of whose hands these are.
On the couch Leo is eating cereal and watching something with animals. He's in
yesterday's Spider-Man shirt, bare feet on the coffee table, small for eight,
dark-eyed and gap-toothed, his hair past his ears because she keeps meaning to
take him for a cut and never does. Her fault. She forgot laundry. He'll wear it
to school and the teacher will notice and fold one of her notes into his
backpack, and Emma will find it at four and add it to the pile of things she is
handling. She should tell him to get dressed.
Her father left for the warehouse at five. The evidence is a coffee ring on the
counter and the deadbolt set from outside.
Mail on the table, growing since Thursday. Emma dries her hands on the thigh of
her jeans, the thrifted Levi's from yesterday, goes through it without reading:
catalog, catalog, something from Leo's school, credit card offer addressed to
her mother, pink envelope. The electric company sends pink at sixty days. She
knows the color code. She puts the pink envelope at the bottom of the stack.
She passes the hallway mirror. Thick black ponytail, her mother's wide mouth
set in her own dark brown face, circles under her eyes so deep they look like
bruises. School in forty minutes.
---
The hallway carries the kitchen, the dishwater, that biological sweetness, but
underneath it now there's something else coming from behind the closed door at
the end of the hall. Thicker, staler, concentrated, sealed in. She hasn't
opened this door for days. Whatever is behind it has been building its own
climate. Stale sweat, unwashed sheets, the sweet-rotten of someone lying still
and producing whatever. She knocks with the back of her hand. "Mom, I'm
leaving for school."
Nothing.
She turns the knob. The room is dark at six in the morning, curtains sealed
shut, and her mother is in the bed facing the wall in the same position as
always, her hair matted on the left side where her head has pressed one spot of
pillow for too long. Her breathing is wet and open-mouthed, a click of tongue
on each inhale. The room is warm in a way the rest of the apartment isn't. Body
heat with nowhere to go. Emma breathes through her mouth.
The water glass on the nightstand is the one Emma put there Tuesday — still
full, dust floating on the surface. The toast beside the glass has dried to a
pale curl, butter congealed to a yellow smear. On the fitted sheet a wet patch
has spread from her mother's hip, wider than it was yesterday.
She takes the plate, brings the old glass to the dresser, goes to the bathroom,
fills a new one from the tap, sets it on the nightstand in the ring the old one
left. Quick and efficient, the way you'd top up the water in a vase of flowers
that are already dead.
The curtains resist when she pulls them open. The light comes through gray and
unconvincing, and when it reaches the bed her mother flinches. For a brief
moment Emma sees the other version. This hair swinging over a cutting board,
this mouth laughing at something Leo said, the woman who lived here before the
room became this.
Emma stands in the doorway. "I love you, Mom."
Same breathing.
She waits.
She pulls the door shut.
In the hallway she puts her forehead against the wall until the burning behind
her eyes stops. She goes back to the kitchen. Leo's voice from the couch, not
looking up: "Is Mom coming out today?"
"She's resting."
Leo nods. The nod he's been giving since spring. Complete, asking nothing else.
He doesn't ask why Emma signs his forms. Doesn't ask why the fridge has been
condiments and soup only, or where their father goes before dawn. He's eight.
Julia L. Rule writes about the monsters that live inside our
devices. Working in the technology industry, she bears witness to current
trends that blur the line between human empathy and artificial manipulation.
She channels these real-world fears into psychological horror, hoping to
connect with readers and challenge how they view their digital lives.
Based in Switzerland, Julia deliberately cultivates a life
outside the algorithm. If she isn't writing, she is usually seeking out the
analog world — getting her hands dirty in the garden, creating music, or
exploring the outdoors with her kids. How Can I Help You Today? is her latest
novel.
Daniela Romero is here to tell us about her New Adult sports romance Boys of Richland.
There's also a great giveaway.
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Boys of Richland
Daniela Romero
Publication date: June 7th 2026
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Sports
One girl on the edge.
One obsessive college soccer star determined to save her.
One devastating love story that nearly destroys them both.
Cecilia Russo was ready to disappear the night Gabriel Herrera found her.
Now, the star athlete refuses to let her go.
Gabriel forces his way into Cecilia’s life with the same intensity he brings to the field—reckless, relentless, and impossible to ignore. The more he pushes past her walls, the more dangerous their connection becomes.
Because Gabriel doesn’t just want to protect her.
He wants to consume her.
What starts as grief, anger, and stolen nights spirals into obsession, codependency, and a love neither of them knows how to survive. Especially when the ghosts haunting Cecilia refuse to stay buried.
With trauma, betrayal, and a looming trial threatening to tear them apart, Gabriel and Cecilia are forced to decide if love can truly heal two broken people—or if some damage is impossible to come back from.
Perfect for readers who love:
• College soccer romance
• Obsessive, protective heroes
• He falls first
• Who hurt you
• Emotional trauma and healing
• Touch-her-and-die tension
• Found family
This omnibus edition includes: The Savage, The Striker, and The Replay.
Dropping one knee on the mattress, he lays me back, all the while kissing me, caressing me. My body sinks into the comforter and I freeze, locking up at the feel of his strong, powerful frame hovering over mine.
I can’t help my reaction. Squeezing my eyes closed, I count to ten in a desperate attempt to talk myself down. Gabriel doesn’t notice at first. He continues to kiss me, trailing his lips across my cheek and along my jawline. One hand holds my hip, pressing me down, pinning me in place.
I can’t… I open and close my mouth, struggling to breathe.
Panic rises in my chest and my breaths come out as heavy pants. Gabriel shifts his weight, moving his position to settle himself beside me.
He props himself up on one elbow while his other arm curls around my hip, tugging me close as he rolls me to my side to face him. “Hey,” he whispers against my lips. “We’re not going any further than this.” His words are meant to reassure me, but I’m having a hard time getting enough air into my lungs. I swallow hard and open my eyes, peering up at him between my lashes. He lifts a hand and strokes his thumb along my jaw, eyes filled with concern.
“I’m sorry.” My cheeks burn and I look away, but his hand cupping my jaw draws my attention back to him.
“Don’t apologize,” he says. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not here to get in your pants. That’s not what I’m after.”
My brows furrow together. “It’s not?”
He barks out a laugh and presses a quick kiss to my lips, unraveling the knot of tension inside me. “I mean, I won’t lie and say I haven’t thought about it.” He waggles his brows and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “But we’ll move at your pace. Whatever it might be. This, us, it’s new,” he tells me, reaching down to lace the fingers of his hand with mine. “We don’t have to rush things. I’ll be happy if you let me hold you.” He presses another quick kiss to my lips. “And happier if I can kiss you.”
I worry my bottom lip, looking down at our entwined hands. I don’t want to over analyze what this means. He’s kissed me twice now. But that doesn’t mean this is a relationship. I’ve never done casual, but maybe casual is exactly what I need.
“We don’t need to take anything further than that,” Gabriel assures me.
“I—” His expression is tight, almost hopeful, as he waits for me to respond, but I don’t know how to put words to what I want to say. Gabriel is infuriating, but there’s no denying I’m attracted to him. That he brings out this side of me that I had buried away. He pushes me, gets under my skin. But more importantly, he makes me feel alive.
“What if I want to do more?” I ask.
His adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ears. “I don’t think—“
“Please.” My eyes stay locked on his and electricity crackles between us as indecision plays out across his face. I want to chase this feeling. To know I’m not broken beyond repair, and I think Gabriel can give me that.
“You said we could be broken together,” I remind him.
His gaze rakes over my face, looking for any sign of indecision, but he won’t find one. I’m sure about this, or at least as sure as I can be.
He licks his lips and his eyes flick to my mouth, a hungry look taking over his expression. “Are you sure?” His voice is husky and I squeeze my legs together as I nod in confirmation.
“Yes.”
“We’re not having sex.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he raises one hand to stop me.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to.” He pulls me impossibly close, pressing the hard length of his erection against my abdomen to show me the extent of his desire. “But, you’re not ready. And I’m not going to take advantage of you.”
I chew on my bottom lip, feeling the sting of his rejection, but nod my head anyway, accepting defeat until he adds, “That doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good.”
My head jerks up and he grins.
“Would you like that?” he asks. “You want me to make you feel good?”
Author Bio:
Daniela Romero is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of emotionally intense, trope-packed romance novels that break hearts and heal them in equal measure. Known for her angsty enemies-to-lovers stories, possessive heroes, and fierce heroines, she writes steamy new adult and paranormal romance that keeps readers hooked from the first page to the last.
Her books feature unforgettable characters, explosive chemistry, and emotional journeys set in vivid worlds—whether on the football field at Sun Valley High or deep within supernatural realms.
A Bay Area native now living in Washington State, Daniela is a proud Latina, a devoted wife, and a mom to three wild and wonderful kids. When she's not writing or wrangling words, you can find her curled up with a book, binge-watching TV with a crochet hook in hand, or plotting her next fictional heartbreaker.
She believes in love, redemption, and happily ever afters—no matter how messy the journey.
