LAIR - Erotic Paranormal - Reverse Harem - BDSM - on AUDIBLE - Tina Donahue Monthly Newsmagazine #TinaDonahueBooks #EroticParanormal #Reverse Harem #OfftheChartsSex #Giveaways #EyeCandy

LAIR

NOW ON AUDIBLE

A rogue reaper who lives by her rules...

Three alpha Enforcers

determined she obeys theirs.

 

Reverse Harem

Erotic Paranormal - BDSM

Kick-Ass Heroine

Drool-Worthy Heroes

Off-the-Charts Sex

 

Chantel never asked to be a reaper and she sure as hell isn’t taking the virtuous or young before their time. When it comes to dirtbags… that’s another story. Whether they’re ready or not, she has them on her radar for extermination. Rogue reaping suits her just fine.

Rydan, Kahl, and Huntir don’t see her crimes that way. As Enforcers tasked with keeping order in the para world, she’s set for reeducation in their lair. Their goal? To ensure her obedience to their commands while making her submissive to their carnal needs.

Yeah, right. They may be sexier than sin, but these bad boys won’t break her, ever. Bring on the interrogations, indoctrination, and BDSM, the more hardcore the better.

This is a battle of the sexes they’ll all win.

 

PRAISE FOR LAIR

FIVE STARS

Hot and Erotic Paranormal BDSM

John L

A Great Read!

Kathleen Bulfon

I really enjoyed this book

Samantha Davidson

Chanel and her Harem - oh my goodness!

Ashley A. Carr

Great start - Chanel is all alpha female

Elvira

TEASERS

Excerpt:

Chuckling, Kahl pinned her left wrist against the brick structure.

She clawed his stubbled cheek but her glove stopped her nails from breaking skin.

“Huntir.” The bearded guy spoke to the one who looked as a lion would if it assumed human form. “Some help here.”

He imprisoned her other wrist against the wall.

She kicked at whatever she could reach.

Huntir increased his hold on her. “I could be wrong, Rydan, but I think she wants your balls.”

Rydan stroked his beard. “In time. And in the way I demand.”

They laughed.

She bristled. “Let me go, you cretins. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No?” Doubt and amusement burned in Rydan’s dark eyes. “From what we’ve heard you’ve been a bad girl.” He wagged his finger.

If the scarf hadn’t covered her mouth, she would have bit him. “You heard wrong. The prick I took out tonight killed an entire family during a home invasion. Parents and little kids for fuck’s sake. One baby not yet walking. All for a few hundred bucks they had lying around, their real valuables in a safe he couldn’t open because he slaughtered the father before getting the combination. You call that good? You consider that right? You believe that’s sane? Who in the hell is going to miss him? Not his next victims, that’s for sure. Did you want their blood on your hands?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

Not from anger. Something else. Curious as to what, she gazed deep into his eyes, a test she performed on those she reaped, determining whether they were decent or vile in their deepest core.

A faint spark burned within Rydan, signifying honor or integrity or whatever humans called the trait.

Hope surged. Despite Kahl and Huntir holding her arms, she leaned toward Rydan. “You know I’m right. I can see it on your face. Let me go.” She twisted her wrists. The others held tight. “The powers-that-be will never know. You have other paras to cow. Let me do my thing. I’m simply ridding the world of assholes who shouldn’t be here in the first place. Who decided they had a right to live while others had to die for their greed and amusement?”

Kahl cleared his throat. Embarrassment flickered in his brown eyes, a righteous spark in them too. The same for Huntir. Both as worthy as Rydan…if they allowed their good sides to come out.

“You guys know I’m right.” She used her most melodic tone, her pitch soothing and cajoling, similar to the Sirens’ voices from Greek mythology. Another reaper talent to make her job easier, other than having to take good people before their time. “You can’t deny it.”

Rydan’s features went slack, longing and wonder building in his gaze.

The same for Huntir and Kahl.

This was so easy it should have been a crime for her to do it. “Come on.” She upped her charm. “Let me—”

“That’s not how this works.” Rydan’s weak moment hardened to indifference. “You’re well aware of that, Chantel.”

His and the others effortless resistance to her voice shouldn’t have surprised her. Them already knowing her name certainly didn’t. Most likely, they had her lengthy file detailing each rogue reaping. Even so, she played dumb. “Who? I’m Dike.”

Rydan threw back his head and laughed, the sound rich and thrilling. “That’s not what I heard.” He inched closer, their boots touching. “Considering the many guys who’ve been balls deep in you, you’re now telling us you’re a lesbian?”

“Dike with an i not a y.” Men. “She’s the Greek goddess representing justice.”

“No shit? Guess I’ll have to remember that when my next assignment lies as much as you do.”

“For. A. Good. Freaking. Cause.”

“Your words and misguided belief. Not ours. Let’s see what we have here.” He unwound her scarf. Her waist-length hair spilled out.

Kahl sucked in a breath. Huntir touched the fiery red tresses.

Rydan stared, lust flooding his face.

If it came to sleeping with them to beat this charge, she’d do so, more willingly than she wanted to admit. However, playing into their hands too soon wasn’t wise. “Do not touch me. Anywhere.”

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Pity Prank - Pity Series - Contemporary Romantic Comedy - and a Giveaway #Romance #ContemporaryRomance #RomanticComedy #RomCom #Giveaway

Whitney Dineen is here to tell us about her contemporary romantic comedy Pity Prank, Pity Series.

There's also a great giveaway.

____________________

Pity Prank

Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series)

Publication date: March 30th 2026

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

What happens when a quirkier than normal girl meets a hunky doctor from New York?

It’s not that I have subpar intelligence, or that I’m a total weirdo. In fact, I would consider myself kind, creative, and an all-in-all great catch—if you can get past a few peculiarities.

I love soft things. ALL soft things, and I surround myself with them to help self-sooth my way through the day. I have very particular opinions about sand, aluminum foil, and gum snappers. You wouldn’t believe how many men find this odd. In short, being on the spectrum has not exactly done wonders for my love life.

Enter Dr. Thomas Culpepper. Never in a million years would I have predicted someone like him would move to tiny little Elk Lake, Wisconsin. Then he gets sent to my photography studio to have his picture taken. I misunderstood the assignment, and instead of taking a boring old headshot like the hospital wanted, I forced him to take sexy pirate photos.

As far as meet cutes go, it was awkward. I won’t even mention the baby oil …

Pity Prank is a laugh-out-loud, small town romantic comedy featuring misunderstandings galore, a tiny bit of fake dating, a lot of fuzzy sweaters and socks, and oh, yeah, some sexy pirate photos.

Perfect for fans of Hallmark vibes. Book eight in a feel-good series of standalones.

*** For fans of The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Finley

As soon as I enter, I notice a man sitting on one of the two overstuffed shabby chic chairs by the window. He looks up and makes direct eye contact which causes every thought in my brain to pour out like sand in a sieve. Holy. Hot stuff. Batman. This man is extraordinarily handsome, but his appeal is more than just physical. He emanates a kind of golden energy that’s positively intoxicating.

“Hi there.” As soon as he stands up, I can feel the room start to sway. I stagger to the counter, so I don’t fall over. He’s well over six feet and from what I can tell he’s built like he spends hours at the gym every day.

“H…h…hi, yourself. Thomas Culpepper?” I ask, both hoping he is and isn’t at the same time. How in the world will I be able to take sexy pictures of this man and keep my wits about me? I can’t even look at him fully clothed without stuttering.

“That’s me.” He flashes a brilliant smile which makes me wonder if he’s ever starred in toothpaste commercials. His hair is the softest looking wavy chocolate brown I’ve ever seen. My hand lifts of its own accord like it’s trying to reach out and touch it. Which of course I know I can’t do. At least until it’s time for me to style his hair for the shoot. I practically drool at the thought.

Thomas looks at my hand suspended in mid-air before copying the gesture and waving at me. “He-llo.” He breaks the word into two syllables like I’m new to the English language and might not understand otherwise.

I drop my hand immediately and try to regain my composure. “Constance is very excited about these shots.”

“Really?” He looks confused, like he doesn’t know who I’m talking about.

“Really,” I assure him. “She’s ordered the basic package to start but if she likes what she sees…” In lieu of finishing my sentence, I give him an exaggerated wink.

“I didn’t realize this was such a big deal to her,” he says. I wonder if I got it wrong and they aren’t a couple? Darn it, that’s the thing with me, I have an awful time reading people.

“Oh, it’s a very big deal.”

Thomas’s hazel eyes narrow in confusion before he bends down to pick up the bag he brought with him. “I brought some different shirts.”

“Oh, we won’t need shirts.” There’s no way, I’m covering up this man in unnecessary clothing. No way. Unless of course it’s a pirate shirt, wide open, and billowing in the wind. Lucky for him, I have such an item in my costume collection.

Thomas’s gorgeous brow furrows, drawing my attention to the golden flecks in his eyes. “I brought a doctor’s coat too, if you prefer that.”

“A doctor’s coat?” I love the idea of turning him into a sexy doctor. It’s decided then, we’ll do a pirate look and a doctor one. Constance is going to love these.

Motioning to Thomas, I tell him, “Follow me into the backroom and you can get ready there.”

As he approaches, I inhale his spicy aftershave. Cloves, cinnamon, and orange, oh my! “You smell great.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. That’s another fun thing about me, I don’t always think before speaking, which can sometimes make other people uncomfortable. Like the time I told a woman in the grocery store that her pants made her butt look amazing. While meant as a compliment, it was clear she wasn’t used to such a forthright comment from a stranger. I figured that out when she walked out of the store, leaving a full cart behind.

The last thing I want to do is make Thomas nervous, so I hurry to tell him, “You smell like my favorite Christmas cookies.”

“Huh. I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s a compliment of the highest order,” I assure him. “My mom makes the best orange spice shortbread you’ve ever tried.” Just when I think I’ve saved the moment from getting too awkward, I groan suggestively and declare, “Yummy!” Thomas’s eyes pop open wider in an expression I once again worry is fear.

The backroom of my store is one big unfinished space with a variety of backdrops scattered about. I point toward the barber-style chair in front of a big lighted mirror in the corner and tell him, “Let’s start there. I’ll get your hair and makeup done first and then we’ll settle on wardrobe.”

“Hair and makeup?”

“Yeah, you know, so we can get the look we’re after.”

“I thought I was okay the way I am.”

“You’re fantastic,” I assure him. “Really great! But I want to make sure we capture your character to the fullest.”

“I’m a doctor,” he tells me. I’m starting to think Thomas might be the one new to the English language.

“Doctor, pirate, sexy duke with a superiority complex… you can be anything you want and I’m here to make that happen.”

Thomas sits down in the makeup chair looking highly uneasy. “I really am a doctor.” Then he asks, “Do you get a lot of pirates and nobility in here?”

“Tons,” I assure him.

Thomas sits down with the same amount of enthusiasm he might have knowing he was about to be electrocuted. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need hair and makeup,” he says again.

“I’m not putting lipstick on you, Thomas.” Picking up a bronzing palate, I tell him, “Just a bit of contrast to sharpen your angles.”

“Why exactly do I need sharper angles?” How is it possible that he’s even sexy when he’s acting stupid?

Turning to look him square in the eye, I ask, “Why do you think you’re here?”

“I’m here to get my picture taken for …”

“Constance,” I finish his sentence for him. “You’re here for Constance. And you want to make her happy, don’t you?”

“I… suppose?” He isn’t selling it.

“You suppose? She’s paid me four hundred dollars to take very specific pictures of you and that is exactly what I’m going to do. Do you understand?” He nods his head almost imperceptibly, so I tell him, “This is my job, Thomas. My job. It’s what I do for a living. It’s how I pay my bills.”

“Yes, but…”

“Constance came in here herself to tell me what she wants, and as she is my client. I’m not going to let her down.”

Thomas sits as still as a statue while I brush bronzer on his cheeks and jaw. By the time I’m done with him, he could have posed for a Michelangelo statue of a Greek god. I can’t take all the credit for that though; he practically is one on his own.

Once I’m convinced his face couldn’t look any better, I put the makeup brush down and face my model once again. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. After turning the chair so his back faces the mirror, I lift my hands and run all ten of my fingers through his hair. Holy heck. It’s even softer than it looks. It’s better than all my furry sweaters combined. It’s like running my hands through a litter of baby minks. It’s softer than the Barefoot blanket I spent way too much money on. But only because it lost some of its softness after being washed. Until then, it was worth ten times as much.

Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is to rub Thomas Culpepper’s head every day of my life until I die.

Reluctantly, I remind myself that Thomas is Constance’s boyfriend, not mine. Yet I don’t understand how that can be because this man is so vital and alive. Constance has the warmth of a vampire bat in winter. But they got together somehow and now it’s my job to give my client the best fantasy material I can.

She never has to know it’s doing the same for me.

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / X

GIVEAWAY!

Pity Prank Blitz

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Firestorm - Contemporary Small Town Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #SmallTownRomance #ContemporaryRomance #Giveaway

Dana Wayne is here to tell us about her contemporary small town romance Firestorm.

There's also a great giveaway.

____________________

Some fires are set...others are felt

Firestorm

by Dana Wayne

Genre: Contemporary Small Town Romance

The greatest danger may lie in the firestorm burning between them

Jenna McCray dedicated her life and trust fund to helping others succeed through her charitable foundation, Pathways Mission. After a self-imposed hiatus, her first venture back into the dating pool is an unmitigated disaster witnessed by many, including hunky Fire Marshall Thomas Donovan.

Donovan had a profound mistrust of the upper crust—until Jenna McCray. One photo in the paper. That’s all it took. Regal. Composed. A killer smile. She looked straight into the camera…and into him--and he hadn’t even met her yet.

When he finally did, the effect was seismic. Prim, proper, and utterly magnetic. Something primal flared to life inside him, and he was powerless against it. Calling her “The Ice Queen” didn’t help. Mocking was easier than admitting she'd gotten under his skin long before they even spoke.

When a fire ravages her business on the same night someone vandalizes her home, he wonders if the incidents are connected and searches for answers.

But someone wants to keep their secret buried.

As danger escalates, so does the blistering chemistry between Jenna and Donovan, and he vows to protect her at all costs—even if it means risking everything.

Amazon * Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

Jenna shrieked and jumped up, toppling her chair and stumbling into someone behind her, who then collided with a waiter carrying a water pitcher, sending all three to the floor in a shower of ice-cold water.

She landed partially on top of the man, his arms around her waist as he bore the brunt of the fall. Another scream lodged in her throat when she saw it resting on her thigh.  

Suddenly, his hand moved, and the spider vanished.

“You’re okay,” murmured a husky voice against her ear. “It’s gone. You’re okay.”

Laughter filtered through a fog of humiliation. She’d freaked out—in a public place and lay on the floor atop a total stranger while Oscar did nothing but watch, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Something wrong, Jenna?” he crooned.

“I t-t-told you I h-hate spiders.” Her body trembled, and she couldn’t control the quiver in her voice.

The man’s arms tightened slightly.

“Did you?” cooed Oscar. “I must have forgotten.”

***

Donovan couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw Jenna McCray in person tonight. All prim and proper, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and his crazy heart raced like a runaway train. 

She’d dominated his thoughts from the moment he saw her picture in the paper two weeks ago. Hell, he’d even cut the damn thing out and kept it in his desk. How pathetic was that?

Everything from her regal posture to how she sipped the wine screamed money and class. Coffee-colored hair pulled into a tight bun at the nape, and pearl studs in her ears emphasized the delicate bone structure of her face and the fullness of ruby-colored lips. The basic black dress and single strand of pearls would look simple on most women. On her, it was elegant.

When their gazes locked briefly, the jolt of desire was so potent it shocked him.

The returning look of interest stole his breath.

Every unexplained feeling he’d endured the last two weeks hit like a tidal wave. It took massive effort to walk calmly to his table.  

Oscar's joining her was an unpleasant shock. The man was dirty as mud. Why on earth would a woman like her associate with him?

Thoughts in turmoil, he decided to skip dinner and leave—until all hell broke loose.

He’d never met anyone with arachnophobia, but judging by her reaction to a fake spider, she suffered an extreme case. As snickers from the other patrons registered, his protective instincts surged.

A shudder rolled through her body, and she sucked in a jerky breath, mumbling something he didn’t catch.

“It’s gone,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

She made a move to stand, and he maneuvered to assist, one hand remaining on her arm for stability.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, avoiding eye contact and swiping at the water on her dress. “I’ll pay to have your clothes cleaned.”

Face flaming, she watched the waiter clean up the mess. “Oh, Alfred,” she asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Miss McCray.” He nodded toward Oscar’s retreating figure. “And he’s to blame—not you.”

Donovan lightly squeezed her arm. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”

She managed a shaky “I’m fine,” then swallowed. “Th-thank you. For helping me.”

 Donovan clenched his teeth as his fantasy dreams went up in smoke. She couldn’t even look him in the eye when she mumbled insincere words of gratitude.

“Anytime.”

At his terse response, dark, earnest eyes, filled with confusion and something he couldn’t readily identify, whipped to his. Desire coursed through him, heady as strong whiskey, leaving him off-balance.

She frowned and retrieved a wallet from the bag on the table, pulled out a card and some bills, then passed the money to Alfred. “If this isn’t sufficient for my wine and the pitcher, please let me know.”

He hesitated, then took the money. “It’s fine, Miss McCray.”

A harried woman appeared from Donovan’s left. The manager—they’d met on a previous visit, but he couldn’t recall her name.

“Oh my God, Jenna. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Katie. Embarrassed but unhurt.” She nodded toward Donovan. “This gentleman broke my fall.” She nibbled her lower lip as though unsure of what to do next. Inhaling, she passed him the card. “Thank you, Mr…”

“Donovan.”

“Mr. Donovan. Please—”

“No mister. Just Donovan.”

Lips slightly parted, she hesitated. “Oh. Okay. Donovan. Please send me a bill for the dry cleaning.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Yes. It is.”

Cheeks the brightest red he’d ever seen, her earnest expression softened.

“Please.”

That one word curbed his resentment. He took the card, ignoring the tingle as their fingers brushed.

“Donovan,” said Katie. “Thank you for helping my friend.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

“And dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Actually, I was just leaving.”

She looked around. “Was something wrong with your table?”

He shook his head. “Unexpected change in plans. I was on my way out when—this happened.”

“Then please accept a raincheck for next time.”

He nodded, knowing he would never accept the offer, no matter how kindly extended.

Katie rubbed Jenna’s shoulder. “Guess kicking him to the curb in a public place wasn’t such a good idea after all, huh?”

Donovan barely covered his surprise. So that’s what happened—good for her.

Jenna’s gaze skipped from him to Katie. “No. It wasn’t.”

“I’ve never seen you react that way before.”

She glanced at Donovan. “I—it just surprised me. That’s all.”

He immediately recognized the lie. She wasn’t surprised. She was terrified.

“I told him they bothered me.”

And that’s the understatement of the century.

 “And you’d already told him to back off,” added Katie, “so the creep had a Plan B to get even. I’m just happy you weren’t hurt.”

This time, when she looked at Donavan, her gaze held, and the intensity floored him. A dark chocolate brown enhanced by a golden ring around the edges, they glistened in the restaurant’s ambient lighting.

Or was it unshed tears? 

Texas Winds

by Dana Wayne

Genre: Contemporary Small-Town Romance

Two hearts shattered by betrayal. Once chance to trust again.

 

Jake Holloway discovered his wife’s infidelity as she lay in a coma, carrying a child that may not be his.

Four years later, his heart remains closed to all emotion. Lexie Morgan’s dream of happily-ever-after ended the day she stood alone at the altar. The need to put distance between her and the pain places her in the path of feral hogs and Jake Holloway’s life. Neither is prepared for the intense attraction.

When Lexie meets his four-year-old daughter, Katie, the timid child with downcast eyes steals her heart.

Forced to rely on Jake’s assistance, it’s impossible to ignore the escalating pull.

But the past never dies, and resurrected hurts threaten their fragile bond.

Will the ever-changing Texas winds hold them together or reduce their love to dust?

 

Amazon * Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

Ankle and hip throbbed in unison, and a growing headache added to the misery mix.

She took a breath and looked around. The front bumper dug into the far side of the muddy embankment, and the blown-out tire rested in muck halfway up the rim. Dingy water in the ditch swirled around her feet and leached up her mud-coated pant legs. Her disgusted gaze took in the filthy jeans and soaked and blood-coated tee shirt. “Crap,” she muttered. “Brand new shoes.” She swiped a hand across her cheek, leaving a streak of bloody mud in its wake. “Great way to start my first vacation in years.”

She adjusted her grip on the door and blew wet hair away from her mouth. “Alrighty then.” Muttering under her breath, she reached past the dog and plucked the half-full Swear Jar from the floorboard. An irritated swipe at the wet hair clinging to her cheek left more muddy streaks behind. “Time for the big guns.” She placed the jug on the seat near Biscuit and pulled two soggy one-dollar bills and three quarters from her pocket. She took a breath and ceremoniously dropped the quarters through a slot cut into the lid, mumbling after each one. “Damn. Damn. Dammit.” She took a deep breath and crammed the wet bills through the hole. “And son-of-a-bitch.” 

“Don’t reckon that’s gonna help much.”

An f-bomb exploded before she could stop it.

***

Startled by the man’s deep voice, Lexie swore and spun around, tossing the jar over her shoulder as intense pain shot up her leg.  Off-balance, she grabbed the door to keep from falling on her rear as the jug landed with a mushy thump at the stranger’s feet.

The brim of a dark Stetson cast his face in shadow, but there was no disguising his frame. Tall, at least six-two or three, shoulders a mile wide, with long, muscular legs encased in worn jeans. Muddy work boots covered his feet, and well-used leather gloves stuck out of his front pocket. Rain dripping from the brim of his hat left wet trails on his pale blue chambray shirt, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned, muscular forearms.

He hesitated, then picked up the jar, one corner of his mouth curling up as he read the inscription. “I’m guessing that last word is expensive,” he said as he passed her the container before stepping back.

His husky, just-woke-up voice raced through her like fine wine, leaving her momentarily speechless. “It is,” she snapped and took the jug. “Five bucks.”  She glanced past him and noted a grime-coated, black Ford F250 crew cab parked behind him on the shoulder of the road. Holy crap. I never heard a thing. She eyed her bag, mentally calculating how long it would take to reach the pistol inside if needed. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people. I have a gun. And I know how to use it.” 

He made no effort to approach, just stood there, hands on his hips. “Are you hurt?”

She gripped the door tighter when her throbbing ankle threatened to fold again. “No. I’m good.”

“You have blood on your face. And mud.”

His intense gaze traveled up and down her body, causing an involuntary shiver.

“Were you ejected?”

“No. I slipped when I got out.”

He tipped his head toward the back seat. “What about the dog?”

She glanced at Biscuit, who showed no concern over the stranger’s sudden appearance, and noted a little blood on the side of his mouth. How did she miss that before? “Biscuit!” Dismissing the man, she leaned against the car and ran her hands over the dog again, checking more thoroughly for anything broken. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

The dog stoically endured her frantic exam with only a slight whimper when she touched his front paw before moving to his mouth. “Come on, baby, open up.” She slowly pried his jaw open and saw blood on his tongue.

“Looks like he bit it. Probably on impact.”

It took tremendous effort not to react to the unexpected voice behind her left shoulder. “Yeah. Probably. I’ll have him checked out when I get to town.” 

He looked at the luggage piled in the back of the SUV. “Where you headed?” 

She glanced up and discovered walnut-colored eyes watching Biscuit, his square jaw visibly tense. His face was rugged and somber, bronzed by wind and sun and covered with dark stubble. No laugh lines around full lips, and unspoken pain was alive in dark, fathomless eyes. In a heartbeat, his expression changed, switching to closed-off and distant as he took two steps back, hands stuffed in his front pockets.

Multi-awarding winning author Dana Wayne is a sixth-generation Texan and still resides in the Piney Woods. She routinely speaks at book clubs, writers’ groups and other organizations and is a frequent guest on numerous writing blogs. A die-hard romantic, her stories are filled with strong women, second chances, and happily ever after.

“I’m all about the romance, so my tales are heartwarming, have a splash of suspense and humor. While they are a little steamy, I believe romance is more about emotion than sex, and the journey is more important than the destination.

“I retired in late 2013 and published my first book in 2016. I was over the moon when it was awarded first place in a contest through the Texas Association of Authors, and I never looked back. My books have been nominated for and/or received various awards and numerous five-star reviews. To have my work validated in such a manner is very gratifying and humbling.”

Affiliations include Texas Association of Authors, Writers League of Texas, East Texas Writers Guild, Northeast Texas Writers Organization, and East Texas Writers Association.

 

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Maybe It's Fate - Small Town Romance #Romance #SmallTownRomance

Heidi McLaughlin is here to tell us about her small town romance Maybe It's Fate.

Read on for details...

______________________

Title: Maybe It's Fate 

Author: Heidi McLaughlin 

Genre: Small Town Romance 

Release Date: April 1, 2026 

Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

In a moving story of love and loss, a corporate consultant leaves her life behind to care for her dying friend’s children—and finds hope with the small-town coach who steps up to the plate with her.

From the author of The Art of Starting Over comes a heartfelt portrait of what it means to build a family, as a young woman navigates grief, guardianship, and the bittersweet gift of falling in love.

The only thing that could pull Antonia Bernardi away from her high-powered career is her lifelong best friend. And with two children and a cruel prognosis, Miriam Vaughn needs her now more than ever.

Antonia drops everything—her job, her relationship—to be there for the Vaughns. Playing mom to Miriam’s teenage son and seven-year-old daughter is a tall order made heavier by grief. But the kids need her, and she needs them.

Then there’s the boy’s coach and mentor, former MLB star Weston Schmidt. He’s a pillar of support, a safe space for Antonia to rest. But there’s too much going on to even think about romance … or maybe that’s exactly why they should.

Adjusting to life without her best friend, Antonia leans into her new role as guardian, doing work she loves and repairing the old farmhouse Miriam cherished. Nothing can stop the world from spinning—but Antonia has every reason to keep on going.

AMAZON | AUDIBLE

Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers.

Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs.

In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl.

Heidi's first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018, and is now available on DVD & Digital.

To stay connected with Heidi visit www.facebook.com/authorheidimclaughlin or heidimclaughlin.com

 

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