Had Me At Howdy - Romantic Comedy - Young Adult - Contemporary Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #RomanticComedy #RomCom #Young Adult #YA #ContemporaryRomance #Giveaway

Mary Karlik is here to tell us about Had Me At Howdy, a Hillside* Spring Creek Novel, romantic comedy, contemporary romance, young adult.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Had Me At Howdy

Mary Karlik

(A Hillside * Spring Creek Novel)

Publication date: November 22nd 2025

Genres: Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Platinum credit card? Deactivated. New car? Sold. Best life ever? Canceled.

Thanks to my dad losing his job, we’ve ditched Chicago for Fumbuck, Texas—population: redneck. Now I’m living on a rundown farm, scrubbing dishes, and driving a rusty pickup. Worst of all? I’m stuck working alongside a cowboy.

But this Cinderella isn’t giving up. I’ll claw my way back to the luxe life I left behind—and no one, not even infuriatingly chill, stupidly handsome Austin McCoy is going to stop me. Even if he does make feeding the chickens weirdly… enjoyable.

She thinks she’s just passing through. I’m hoping she stays.

I kind of feel for the Quinn sisters. City girls don’t belong in Spring Creek—but Kelsey? There’s more to her than designer labels and eye rolls. When she forgets to be angry, I see it—like the way her eyes light up when she feeds the chickens.

Now all I have to do is convince her the guy she really wants is me, not some rich dude taking her to a ball in Chicago.

Content Warning: This work contains a subplot involving death, grief, and an off-page instance of date rape. While these events are not depicted directly, they are referenced and may be distressing to some readers.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The universe had completely crapped on Kelsey Quinn’s life.

She dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, and wadded up the tissue before dropping it to the pile on the seat next to her. Pressing her forehead against the car window, she watched the scenery fly by at seventy miles per hour. They passed Bob’s Stay and Go combination gas station—fast food restaurant—hotel, followed by some weird concrete starship-shaped pizza parlor. Next, three-foot fluorescent letters screamed about redemption across a junkyard fence surrounding rusted pieces of mangled metal. The few words of scripture painted there weren’t going change her fate. Her dad was in the driver’s seat and they were heading straight for the armpit of Texas.

With a sigh she slumped against the seat and tried not to think about the boyfriend who’d been ripped from her life, or the best friend she’d been forced to leave behind. But it wasn’t just her forced exile from Drew and Zoe. She’d lost her identity. At St. Monica’s, she knew who she was and where she fit in. It was her senior year, the year she’d looked forward to for as long as she was in school. They had taken it away with less thought than the car they’d sold one afternoon while she and Zoe were shopping. None of it was her fault. She was a victim of her dad’s incompetence on one hand and her sister’s immorality on the other.

Her dad exited onto a two-lane highway where they were greeted by a faded, Welcome to Hillside Texas, Population 5000, sign. They slowed to a crawl as they entered the town. At a four-way stop her mom screeched, “Oh my God Tom, look at the cute little diner. We’re all starving, let’s stop before we go to the house.”

“Sounds good to me. Jack’s not expecting us for another couple of hours anyway.” Dad angled the Infinity between two pickup trucks and turned off the engine.

The diner was nestled in the center of a row of dilapidated two story buildings. Early Bird Café was painted in bright blue letters across the glass. Kelsey pulled her compact mirror from her purse and studied her reflection. She’d been crying for two days, no amount of makeup magic would fix her swollen red eyes. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care about this place or these people. She sure as heck didn’t care what they thought about her. She shoved the mirror back into her purse.

Her younger sister, Ryan, looked all wide-eyed and curious. And worse, she actually looked excited to investigate this hick little town. Why not? It was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. Her parents would have been justified to ship Ryan off to some kind of school for troubled kids. But no—Quinns don’t give up on their own. Everybody had to suffer because Ryan couldn’t say no to drugs or boys.

Mackenzie, Kelsey’s youngest sister, flipped her compact gymnast’s body from the third seat to the back seat nailing Ryan in the shoulder with her foot.

“Watch it!” Ryan drew her fist back, but before she could get the hit off Mackenzie flashed a cherub smile and released a powder sugar apology. Yeah. That wasn’t an accident. Kelsey almost smiled when she saw foot impact with shoulder. Mackenzie had been fairly silent about the ruin Ryan’s exploits had done to her life. Apparently, she had her limits too.

Author Bio:

Join Mary's newsletter: https://maryjwilson.com/contact/

Mary Karlik (also writing as Mary J. Wilson) combines her Texas roots with her Scottish heritage to write happily-ever-afters from Texas to Scotland.

Mary has five indie-published contemporary young adult romance novels and two fantasy novels.

Mary earned her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, has a B.S. degree from Texas A&M University, and is currently studying Scottish Gaelic at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig in Skye, Scotland. She is also a certified, professional ski instructor and a Registered Nurse.

Mary is an active member of Contemporary Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America, and Dallas Area Romance Authors. Married to a Scott, Mary lives in both and Scotland and Texas.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook / Newsletter / Bookbub

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Surrendering to You - Priestly Family Series Book 3 - Contemporary Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #ContemporaryRomance #Giveaway

Sharon C. Cooper is here to tell us about Surrendering to You, book 3 in the Priestly Family Series, contemporary romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

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His betrayal cost him the only woman he has ever loved. 

Now, he’s determined to win her back.

Surrendering To You

Priestly Family Series Book 3

by Sharon C. Cooper

Genre: Contemporary Romance

His betrayal cost him the only woman he has ever loved. Now, he’s determined to win her back.

 

On the football field Tristan Whitmore might be an MVP, but after a recent career-ending injury, his world is flipped upside down. He takes little comfort in his many NFL achievements and a bank account bulging with more money than he could ever spend. His life feels like it’s over… until he reconnects with the one woman he’s never forgotten. Too bad she hates him.

 

Entertainment lawyer, Cree Priestly is not the forgiving type. Betray her once, and you’re dead to her. Which is why Tristan will never get a second chance with her. She lost too much the last time he charmed her into falling in love with him. Letting that happen again would make her a fool. But when he kisses her, all the buried memories of love, desire, and passionate nights come rushing back.

 

But can Cree afford to surrender her heart to Tristan again? Or are some betrayals impossible to move past?

 

*All books in this series can be read as standalones.

 

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Bookbub * Goodreads

 

“Oh boy. Don’t look now, but your—”

“He’s not my anything,” Cree ground out. “And I think this is a good time to end our visit. I need to get going anyway. We can talk about Dorian’s wedding later.”

“Cree, stop. Just talk to him. It’s been years, and you both deserve some closure.”

“I got closure when I told him to lose my damn telephone number and to go to hell.”

Cree knew she was being a jerk, but Tristan was still a sore topic with her. Seeing him again brought back too many memories, and they weren’t all good.

She gathered her large bag, which doubled as a purse and laptop carrier, and then she grabbed her trash.

“I’m out of here,” she said and blew her sister a kiss before walking away.

If Cree was lucky, she might be able to slip past Tristan without him seeing her. He’d been forced to retire from the NFL, the National Football League, after an injury, and she’d heard he had moved back to Chicago.

God, she hoped that wasn’t true. They probably traveled in the same circles, and that would mean there was a good chance she’d run into him more than she’d prefer.

Taking advantage of the crowd that surrounded him, Cree moved around the perimeter of the space and kept her head down while making her way to the door. She had barely touched the handle before she jolted from the feel of a large hand on her hip.

She froze, but not before a zap of energy flowed through her body at his touch. She knew that touch. Hell, she’d feel that touch even if she had on three layers of clothing. Tristan had always had that effect on her.

 “Cree, wait. We need to talk,” he said by way of greeting. His deep baritone sent goosebumps racing over her skin. She didn’t want to talk, and she sure as hell didn’t want to look at him, but she had to.

When she turned to face him, anger nipped at every nerve in her body. Damn him for looking so good. He was still the finest man on the face of the planet with honey-brown skin, eyes the color of almonds with flecks of gold around his irises, and twin dimples in his cheeks.

As if knowing she was admiring his beautiful face, he amped up his smile, and she cursed under her breath.

Damn those twin dimples. The ones deep enough in his cheeks to stick her fingers in. And damn him for flashing them so freely in public knowing they were babe magnets.

“We have nothing to talk about,” she spat, anger lacing the words.

“On the contrary, baby. We have a lot to discuss.”

Cree turned from him and moved just beyond the threshold, but he held on to the back of her jacket while he stood in the doorway. He didn’t seem to care he was blocking the entrance, keeping anyone from entering or exiting. The small crowd that had formed around him minutes ago was still there, vying for the attention of the other former NFL player whose name had slipped her mind.

As for Tristan, Cree didn’t want to talk to him. That would only encourage him to keep showing up everywhere she went.

No, she needed to stay as far away from the man as possible. His presence was a hindrance to her peace of mind. It was because of him that she had trust issues, especially when it came to men. He was the reason she had taken on the motto—don’t let anyone get too close because in the end they’ll only betray you.

“The old Cree didn’t run from anything,” he said, his voice lowered. “Yet, you’ve run from me twice in a matter of weeks.”

Her jaw clenched and unclenched. “The old Cree would’ve already kneed you in the balls to make you release my jacket. Either let me go or...”

Tristan flinched, then quickly released her jacket and chuckled. “I see you’re still mean as hell.” The words weren’t spoken in a negative way. There was humor in his tone and in his eyes. “Please,” he said, all humor wiped from his face. “I really do need to talk to you.”

Cree searched his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She almost gave in to his request until she remembered—she hated him.

“There’s nothing for us to discuss. As a matter of fact, forget you ever saw me, and if you see me out and about, don’t even look at me.

“And on that note, goodbye, Tristan.”

Now all she had to do was forget she’d ever seen him. Which might be easier said than done.

Don’t miss the rest of the series! They can be read as standalones!

Believing In You

Priestly Family Series Book 1

Amazon * More Links

Finding You

Priestly Family Series Book 2

Amazon * More Links

USA Today bestselling author Sharon C. Cooper loves anything involving romance with a happily-ever-after, whether in books, movies, or real life. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, as well as romantic comedy. She enjoys rainy days, carpet picnics, and family game night. Her stories have won numerous awards, including The Rochelle Alers Best Series award for her Atlanta’s Finest Series (2022) and The Beverly Jenkins Author of the Year award (2021). When she isn’t writing, Sharon loves hanging out with her amazing husband, doing volunteer work, or reading a good book (a romance of course). To read more about Sharon and her novels, or to sign up to be notified of her latest releases, visit www.sharoncooper.net

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bluesky * Pinterest * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

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Her Secret Ingredient - A Gourmet Erotic Romance - Rom Com - Multicultural - BDSM - Public Sex - Femdom #Romance #EroticRomance #RomCom #Multicultural #BDSM #PublicSex #Femdom

Lisabet Sarai is here to tell us about Her Secret Ingredient, a gourmet erotic rom com, featuring multicultural characters, BDSM, public sex, and femdom.

Read on for details...

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New Release!

Her Secret Ingredient

By LisabetSarai

 MF Contemporary erotic romance/romcom – mild bondage

AMAZON US - AMAZON UK

SMASHWORDS - B&N - KOBO

APPLE BOOKS - ADD ON GOODREADS

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UNIVERSAL LINK

A word from Lisabet:

The Accidental Rom-Com

The first edition of Her Secret Ingredient was published more than a decade ago. At the time, I was pretty much of a novice at writing romance, as well as clueless about the genre as a whole. The impetus for the title was a series my publisher was doing called “What’s her secret?”. I had an inspiration, created a quick, steamy contemporary story about an ambitious young woman whose plans spectacularly backfire, and marketed it as contemporary erotic romance.

I know a lot more now about all the genres and sub-genres, labels and tropes, under the big tent of romance. As I was editing the manuscript for this new edition, I found myself grinning frequently and sometimes, laughing out loud. This is better than I remembered, I thought. It’s really pretty funny. But I didn’t  fully understand what was going on until I went to publish the book on Amazon and saw that one of the category options was romantic comedy.

Something clicked. Of course! I didn’t sit down to write a rom-com, but this book has many of the typical features of the genre: embarrassing mishaps, unexpected misdirections, a hint of the wacky, and a smart but in some ways clueless heroine who doesn’t realize she’s going after the wrong guy. It’s not as wild and woolly as one of Julia Kent’s tales (she’s the rom-com goddess, in my view), but it’s moving in that direction.

So if you pick up a copy of the book (and I do hope you will), don’t expect anything too serious. Except the love, of course. That’s about as serious as things can get.

Blurb:

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion.

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is skeptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can’t help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily’s show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne’s consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can’t do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting Monsieur Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever—until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

Excerpt (Adult):

“Hi, Emily! Got a minute?” Harry breezed into the studio kitchen, waving a clipboard. “Got a few things I need to go over with you, before tomorrow’s show. Do you want to be introduced as ‘Mei Lee’, or should we use your English name? And what about your certifications? Do you want the full list in the credits, or just your Michelin rating?” He stopped in his tracks when he saw the feast I’d assembled. “Holy smokes! That looks absolutely scrumptious!”

“Thanks. Let’s just hope that Etienne agrees.” I couldn’t quite keep the pride out of my voice. There weren’t many chefs who could put together a meal like this in four hours, without assistants and under pressure, in a kitchen not their own.

“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts—oh, I’ve just got to try one of these…”

“No! Harry—”

Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.

“Unbelievable! Give me another.”

“Please, no!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux. “Those are supposed to be for Etienne.”

“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.” Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I was. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift.

He halted, his fingers inches away from their target, as if suddenly aware of my touch. Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-colored eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.

“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.

I still had a grip on his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” Sliding his palm down my back, he pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.

“Harry…I don’t think…”

“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.

He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips molded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of a nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet but not sloppy, forceful but not brutal, alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering, he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over. He seemed eager to oblige.

Cupping my ass in his palm, he yanked my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me.

His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit. Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard—harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.

Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.

“Wait—no—aah…oh…” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy.

Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing—and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his glutes flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.

I’d never doubt my grandmother again. 

Praise for Her Secret Ingredient:

Her Secret Ingredient was a great short story. I loved the unique plot, the realistically drawn characters and the writing style. ~ Lucy Felthouse, Goodreads

I've always been a sucker for books set in the kitchen, and even as outlandishly over the top as this one is, it was a lot of fun…lighthearted and silly and sinfully sexy. ~ Steph, The Romance Reviews

 

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

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