A.L. Hawke is here to tell us about Hawthorne University Witch, Prequel Series, dark fantasy, paranormal romance, and romantasy.
There's also a great giveaway.
_____________________
Cursed the moment I fell in love with her.
Walpurgis
The Hawthorne University Witch Prequel Series Book 3
by A.L. Hawke
Genre: Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Romantasy
Burn the Witch.
Allie and I were meant to have a future together—one built on love, not fear.
But here in Hawthorne, shadows lengthen, and whispers drift through the woods
like curses. So when Alondra falls mysteriously ill, I know exactly who’s
behind it.
Desperation drags me into the darkest corners of my magic—places where I no
longer fear the spells I once vowed never to cast. Even joining a coven of the
wicked no longer feels like betrayal. The deeper I descend, the more I uncover
about the witch who haunts me… and the shadow that may not belong to her alone.
Walpurgis Night approaches—the night witches burn. But what happens when it’s
the warlock who strikes the match… willing to burn everything—my heart, my
soul—to save the one I love?
**New Release! On Sale for Only $2.99 until 10/31!**
The Hawthorne University Witch Prequel Series Book 2
Cursed the moment I
fell in love with her.
While home in Raleigh for semester break, I didn’t expect my girlfriend,
Alondra, to ask me for a favor: present my Book of Shadows to the leader of a
satanic cult. She was looking for a new male witch for her coven. Of course,
she knew it wouldn’t be me.
But when a curse took hold of our college campus—and the spirits I thought I’d
left behind came back—I realized I couldn’t keep the book closed much longer.
Now something dark surrounds me. Is it the work of the wizard with the devilish
goatee? Or is it a little girl possessed by something far worse?
I lit a dark shadow, and now I feel only confusion. Whatever this darkness is,
it’s coming for Alondra, our family, and every witch in Hawthorne.
The Hawthorne University Witch Prequel Series Book 1
I fell in love with a
goth, but she’s a witch.
Starting school at Hawthorne University was not going well, until I met my
classmate Alondra. Allie was different. She was goth. But she was also
mysterious, confident and fun. I was into that. My name’s Liam. My friends call
me Lee.
Things got weird after I accompanied her to her haunts. Poltergeists and demons
attacked little girls. I watched Alondra help exorcise these ghosts, but some
of their evil stuck to me.
Well, being attracted to a witch was one thing; dating one was quite another.
It seemed the closer I got to Allie, the more her witchcraft endangered my
friends. And my soul. You decide. I chronicled everything here in her book.
A.L. Hawke is the author of the bestselling Hawthorne
University Witch series. The author lives in Southern California torching the
midnight candle over lovers against a backdrop of machines, nymphs, magic,
spice & mayhem.
Some secrets refuse to stay buried . . . even for twenty-five years.
When tourist Melissa Clark vanishes near Westerly Cove's historic lighthouse, Detective Brooks Harrington expects a routine missing person case. Instead, he's paired with Vivienne Hawthorne, a tea shop owner who claims her family can speak to the dead.
The case mirrors a twenty-five-year-old mystery—teenage Lily Morgan, who disappeared while researching the same lighthouse. Both women were asking dangerous questions about the town's buried secrets.
Vivienne's visions reveal corruption deeper than anyone imagined, but skeptical Brooks believes in evidence, not psychic abilities—until her insights lead him to clues logic couldn't uncover.
Racing against time, they must navigate their growing attraction while confronting enemies determined to keep Westerly Cove's darkest secrets buried forever.
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.
Whitney Dineen is here to tell us about her contemporary romantic comedy Pity Please, Pity Series #7.
There's also a great giveaway.
___________________
Pity Please
Whitney Dineen
(Pity Series, #7)
Publication date: October 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
She had a foolproof plan. He thought his future was sealed. Neither of them imagined life would take them down a different path …
Allie
I never planned to live in Elk Lake again, but here I am. I was going to get married, have a great family and career, and then I’d get my happily-ever-after stamped on the passport of my life.
But Brett cheated and got his mistress pregnant with quadruplets. Karma was my consolation and believe me when I tell you, I couldn’t have been more satisfied by the outcome.
Just as I was busy with my fresh start, Noah Riley walked back into my life. I’ve always worshipped my best friend’s older brother, but he never noticed me.
Until that one day …
Noah
What coach gets demoted after taking their high school basketball team all the way to third in the state? Me, that’s who.
I could have gotten any other job in Chicago, but my anger and hurt pride caused me to accept a position at my alma mater. That’s right, I’m the new basketball coach of the Elk Lake Crappies. Don’t think the irony is lost on me.
My goal is to make a splash with my new team, and then have my old school beg to hire me back. Of course, I won’t accept until there’s an appropriate amount of groveling, along with a substantial pay raise.
When I moved to Elk Lake, I never expected to run into my sister’s best friend from childhood.
Who knew Allie Rogers would make me reconsider my dream?
Instead of agreeing that I should be the captain of my own ship, my mother laments, “I always thought your life would turn out like one of those delightful romcoms from the nineteen nineties. You know, single girl meets the love of her life in a quirky, yet totally believable way …”
I’m not sure which movie she’s thinking of as I’ve grown up watching them all with her. On repeat.
“Which Julia Roberts character did you envision me being? If it’s Vivian Ward in Pretty Woman, I’ll have to move to LA and become a sex worker first.” My mom pushes out of my arms and stares at me in horror.
Instead of letting the subject drop, I feel a burst of indignant steam start to build. “If you want me to be like Anna Scott in Knotting Hill, I’ll also have to move to LA, but this time I’ll have to figure out how to become a movie star. Then I’ll need to find an abusive boyfriend so I can cheat on him with a bookstore owner in London.” How does she find these to be believable scenarios?
Hurt tinges her voice as she responds, “What about Jules Potter in My Best Friend’s Wedding?”
“She didn’t even wind up with the guy!” I shout.
“How about the Runaway Bride?” This woman is relentless.
“I would have to get engaged three times so I could dump three men before my true love showed up to write an article about my chaotic life,” I remind her.
My mom’s face screws up in an agonizing expression like she’s painfully wracking her brain. “Maybe not a Julia Roberts movie then. What about Sandra Bullock? Her romcoms were more girl-next-door, which is exactly what you are.”
Raising my hand into the air, I start ticking off fingers. “While You Were Sleeping would involve nearly killing someone in a train accident so I could lie to the victim’s family and fall for his brother. In Miss Congeniality, I’d have to be an FBI agent masquerading as Miss New Jersey. Hope Floats would get me that husband and child you so badly want me to have but said husband would have to dump me on national television before running off with my best friend. Do you want me to go on?” I demand.
Confusion riddles my mom’s features resulting in my feeling an unexpected wave of compassion for her. “I don’t want any of that for you. I just want you to have a beautiful and happy ending to your story.”
“My story is a long way from being over, Mom.” I’m not going to tell her that my vision of the future is nothing like what she’s hoping for. As in, I’m pretty sure I’ll never let myself be vulnerable enough to give love a second chance. I know for certain I will never have my own children. Three lost pregnancies are enough for me to take the hint.
My mother inhales deeply before telling me, “I’m not good at leaving things in the hands of fate.”
“No, you’re not. You’re the worst control freak I know, but that doesn’t mean you’ve been appointed God and get to make all the decisions for my life.”
“I don’t want to make all the decisions. I just want you to start living again!”
“I’m enough on my own, Mom. I don’t have to be a wife to have value.” I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings again, but what else can I do? It’s like we’re two different species with zero understanding of how the other works.
With hands on hips, she demands, “What’s your five-year plan?”
“To still be breathing,” I tell her honestly.
“Do you ever want to get back into publishing?”
I offer a brief shrug. “Can’t say.”
“Do you plan on working at Rosemary’s for the rest of your life?”
“Would there be anything wrong with that? Would you not be able to love me anymore if I don’t get the Hollywood ending you’ve always imagined for me?”
My mom’s face turns bright red, which is a sure indicator she’s about to lose her cool. But instead of screaming at me, she merely turns around and strides out of the dining room like she’s on her way to execute a military coup. Napoleon had nothing on this woman.
I take her reaction to my question to mean that her love is dependent on my capitulation to her vision. Well, too freaking bad, Margaret. I’m not going to try to make you happy when I don’t even know what will make me happy.
My phone pings before I can stand up and clear the remnants of my uneaten breakfast. Picking it up, I click on the message notification and read a text from Lorelai.
Lorelai: Noah is driving me crazy! I’ve been asking him to put my navy-blue cashmere sweater in the mail for a week, and he hasn’t done it. Would you mind going over to my parents’ house and sending it? The key is under the mat.
My nervous system responds by causing me to break out into a cold sweat. I do not want to see Noah Riley. To be honest, I hate that he’s moved back to Elk Lake. There is no place in my life for my childhood crush. He’s part of my past and I will not go out of my way to run into him again.
Having said that, Lorelai is my best friend, and she never asks for anything. Shoot! I’m going to have to do it. I’ll just have to make sure to go when Noah isn’t there.
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.
Forbidden love
lights the darkest reaches of space
Welcome to Xanadu.
For its elite customers, a space-based paradise of pleasure. For the slaves who
work there, hell orbiting Earth.
Innocent and
inexperienced, Mariel Linderman sells herself to Xanadu to rescue her farming
family from starvation. Streetwise Rain Delgado accepts assignment as a
Pleasure Rep in lieu of a prison sentence for murder. In a world that strictly
prohibits same-sex relations, the passion that flares between them brings
terrible risks. Their unexpected heart-and-soul connection turns their already
precarious existence into a clandestine struggle for survival.
A Word from Lisabet:
The
Mysteries of Inspiration
My
new novella Free Fall began with an impulse purchase. Just of
fun, I was browsing the website of one of my favorite artists, James Help (https://goonwrite.com).
His strikingly original pre-made covers always impress me, while his
hilariously snarky demo titles often have me laughing out loud. Most of the
time, unfortunately, the genres on which he focuses don’t match my work very
well. On this visit, however, I noticed a cover that really spoke to me. It
featured an evocative image of two beautiful women, one blonde and one
brunette, sitting close together in some sort of a futuristic night club.
I
didn’t have a book for this cover, but the drama and passion lurking in that
image were so strong that I just had to buy it. The JPG file sat, untitled, on
my hard disk for more than a year while I worked on other projects. Finally I
cleared my WIP backlog and started thinking about what to write next. I pulled
up the draft cover and got the same punch-in-the-gut feeling about the women
that I’d experienced when I first saw it. I realized that I had to write their
story—even though, at the start, I had no idea, aside from their obvious mutual
attraction,what that story might be.
Creating
Free Fall was far more difficult that most of my writing projects.
Usually when I begin a book, I have at least a mental outline, with the major
events and the expected ending already established. With this novella, I was
feeling my way, trying to discover just who Rain and Mariel were, why they were
in love, and how they were going to survive. When I sat down to write the first
chapter, it flowed onto the page, desperately erotic. After that, though, I
really had to dig. The fact that this was science fiction made things even
harder; that genre requires a delicate balance between imagination and
plausibility. And sometimes too much thought and calculation can stifle
inspiration.
Now
that the book’s done, I’m pretty happy with it. It captures the sense of danger
I felt when I first saw the cover, as well as the love-and-lust connection
between the two protagonists.
I
only hope my readers agree.
Excerpt (Adult - Explicit):
They don’t speak. They can’t speak, with
their mouths welded together in a feverish kiss. Rain tastes like that
atrocious Martian brandy that’s become so popular. She smells of male sweat and
designer aftershave. Mariel doesn’t care. She runs her hands down along Rain’s
strong back, feeling the muscles shift under the synthetic smoothness of the
other woman’s jumpsuit. Pressing her body against Rain’s, she holds tight as
her lover pins her against the wall. Their breasts mash together, the double
layer of fabric between them slippery and frustrating.
“Damn it!” Rain lets go long enough to grab
Mariel’s zipper and drag it down below the waist. She pushes the one-piece
garment off Mariel’s shoulders, then hones in on her throbbing nipple, sucking
hard.
Mariel gasps as lightning arcs from her
exposed breast to her cunt. Rain rakes her teeth across the sensitive nub of
flesh before transferring her mouth to the opposite nipple. At the same time,
she forces a hand into the crotch of Mariel’s coverall and slides a firm
fingertip over her rigid clit.
The transition from anxiety to desire is
instantaneous. After all, they have no time to waste. Mariel grips Rain’s
shoulders and humps her fingers, deeply embedded now in Mariel’s slick folds. A
climax swells in her depths, gathering power second by second until it launches
as a fiery explosion of pleasure. Her knees buckle but Rain holds her tight,
one arm around her waist while the other hand still plays in Mariel’s pussy.
Those knowing fingers awaken new cataclysms of bliss. Helpless, grateful, Mariel
shudders through another fierce release.
AboutLisabetSarai:
LISABET SARAI
writes
in
many
genres,
but
F/F
fiction
is
one
of
her
favorites.
Her
lesbian
erotica
and romance credits include contributions to
Lambda
Award
winner
Where theGirlsAre (“Rush Hour”), Ippie-winning CarnalMachines (“Her Own
Devices”),Best LesbianRomance2012 (“Clean
Slate”), ForbiddenFruit:StoriesofUnwiseLesbianDesire (“The
First Stone”),
Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 (“The Late Show”)and Lammy-nominated Coming Together:GirlonGirl (“Sundae,
Bloody Sundae”).She has also published a number of standalone
lesbian titles including historical tale By Moonlight and high-spirited
paranormal romance The Witches of Gloucester.
Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her explicit literary endeavors.
She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her writing. For all the dirt on Lisabet, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com)or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com).
Marteeka Karland is here to tell us about Chains, Kiss of Death MC, a motorcycle club romance.
Read on for details...
____________________
Kiss of Death MC
Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap
Date Published: October 17, 2025
Three black cats. One grumpy biker. Fate’s about to get witchy. And
wickedly hot.
Elvira – Halloween’s my favorite holiday, until one teeny mishap
with my practice spell. Suddenly I’m homeless, stinking of swamp gas,
and dragging three black cats into a biker compound… Where I meet
Chains. Big, broody, and superstitious as hell, he glares at my “demon
spawn” like they’re plotting his death. But the way he looks at
me? Let’s just say my spell isn’t the only thing that’s
likely to combust. He’s all hard muscle and harder attitude, and I
can’t tell if he wants to banish me… or bend me over the couch
and have his wicked way with me. I would definitely approve of option number
two!
Chains -- I don’t fear much after nine years inside, but Ellie is chaos.
She’s a walking disaster. Loud, messy, and makes Halloween look like a
lifestyle, not a holiday. And her damn cats have me spooked. I tell myself
she’s trouble. Too naïve. Too good. Then she kisses me, and
suddenly I’m ready to sell my soul for another taste. My MC brothers
think it’s funny. Screw em. Elvira’s mine. And if anyone touches
her, I’ll burn this place to the ground.
WARNING: Chains contains memories of domestic abuse and manipulation. However,
there is a happy-ever-after ending that will make you feel warm and fuzzy.
EXCERPT
Elvira
I stood in the center of my apartment, surveying the disaster zone that used
to be my living room. The cauldron, which was actually just my favorite stock
pot, lay on its side on the stove. Dark green liquid dripped steadily from the
countertop by the stove onto the cheap linoleum floor. My witches’ brew
experiment had gone spectacularly wrong, again, filling the air with a stench
so foul it made my eyes water. I’d only wanted to create a love potion.
Instead, I’d concocted what smelled like a demonic skunk had mated with
rotting eggs in a garbage fire.
“It’s okay, babies,” I cooed to the three black cats,
who’d retreated to their carriers the moment the pot bubbled over.
“Mommy just had a tiny magical mishap.”
Lucifer hissed from behind his carrier door, his yellow eyes narrowed in
judgment. Binx paced in tight circles, while Salem had his paws pressed
against his nose. Even my familiars couldn’t stand the smell.
“I know, I know. I should have followed the recipe.” I pulled my
tank top over my nose, breathing through the fabric. “But who has time
to find owl feathers and moonwater on a Tuesday night?”
I flung open every window in my apartment, the October air rushing in but
barely making a dent in the stench. The smoke detector, which had been
screaming for ten minutes, finally quieted. Green sludge dripped from the
ceiling above the stove where the potion had splattered during its violent
eruption. My carefully arranged Halloween decorations were now coated in
something that looked like radioactive snot.
“We can fix this,” I muttered to myself, only half convinced.
“Just need some bleach, maybe an exorcism, definitely a new
carpet…”
The pounding on my door made me jump. “Miss Blackheart!” Yeah. He
didn’t sound happy. “Open the door right now!”
“Coming, Mr. Peterson!” I sang out in my cheeriest voice,
frantically attempting to right the fallen cauldron. Green goo sloshed over my
fingers, burning slightly. “Just freshening up!”
I wiped my hands on my black jeans and pulled my long hair back into a heavy
ponytail. Taking a deep breath, I immediately regretted it as the fumes hit my
lungs, I opened the door with my most innocent smile even as my eyes watered.
Mr. Peterson stood there, his face the color of an overripe tomato. The vein
in his forehead throbbed with such intensity I worried it might burst. His
nostrils flared before he clamped a hand over his nose as the wall of stink
hit him.
“What in God’s name --” He choked, stumbling backward.
“The entire building smells like… like…”
“Aromatherapy!” I offered brightly. “It’s a, um, rare
Eastern technique for cleansing negative energy.”
His eyes bulged as he peered past me into the apartment. “Your ceiling
is green! There’s smoke everywhere!”
“That’s part of the process?” My voice lifted higher with
each word, betraying my desperation.
“The Johnsons in 3B are throwing up. Mrs. Wittlesby’s cat fainted.
The Andersons’ dog is howling like it’s seen a ghost.” He
thrust a piece of paper at me. “This is an eviction notice. You’re
out, Miss Blackheart.”
I took the paper with trembling fingers. “But Mr. Peterson, I’ve
always paid my rent on time, and --”
“I don’t care if you paid your rent in gold bars! You’ve
violated every health code in existence. People are evacuating the damn
building!” The longer he spoke, the louder he got. And he’d been
pretty damned loud to start with.
Behind me, one of my cats let out a mournful yowl. “Those damn black
cats of yours,” he muttered, making the sign of the cross. “I knew
they were bad news.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “Don’t blame my cats for this.
They’re innocent.”
“You have until tonight to get out,” he bellowed, gesturing wildly
at my smoke-stained ceiling. “Eight hours! After that, I’m calling
animal control for those beasts and the hazmat team for… whatever
hellbrew you’ve cooked up in here.”
“But where am I supposed to go?” My voice cracked, the reality of
my situation finally sinking in. “You can’t kick me out with no
notice!”
“Not my problem. And it’s my damn building; I’ll do whatever
the hell I want. Take it to court if you want. Don’t care. But until you
get a court date, I want you out of here!” He stepped back, pulling a
handkerchief over his nose. “I’ve put up with the stink for the
last time. Eight hours, Miss Blackheart. Not a minute more.”
The door slammed in my face. I stood there, clutching the eviction notice,
feeling the edges of panic creeping in. Sure, I could take him to court.
He’d have to call the police to force me to leave and they
wouldn’t make me unless there was a court order. But, honestly, I knew
it was time to move on. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I’d hoped to
save a little more money before then. But maybe this was a sign.
My hands shook as I turned to face my ruined apartment. The clock on the wall
shaped like a grinning skull showed it was already noon.
“Well, shit,” I whispered to no one in particular.
I sank down onto my potion-spattered couch, the eviction notice crumpling in
my grip. My eyes burned, and not just from the fumes. I really wasn’t
sure where I was going to go. I had a couple thousand dollars in my savings
account, and a hundred in my checking to do me until payday. If I could find a
new place that wasn’t too expensive, I might have enough for a security
deposit and first month’s rent. If I was really lucky. And that was
assuming I could find something in the next eight hours. Right. Not a
snowball’s chance in hell.
I glanced at my phone, scrolling through the pitiful list of contacts until I
came to Carrie’s number and took a deep breath. We weren’t exactly
close friends, but she’d always been kind to me at the coffee shop where
I worked weekends. She seemed like a really nice person. She’d offered
me a place to crash the last time my landlord threatened to kick me out. I
hadn’t taken her up on the offer then since I only knew her from the
coffee shop, but I wasn’t sure I had many options at the moment.
The phone rang three times before she picked up. “Ellie! Hey!” She
sounded excited. To hear from me?
“Hey.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it wavered.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m having a bit of an
emergency.”
“Oh no, Ellie! What kind of emergency? Are you all right?” Carrie
sounded distressed. She was such a sweet person I had no doubt she genuinely
was distressed.
“I… um… may have accidentally created a biohazard in my
apartment and gotten evicted?” I laughed, the sound hollow and
desperate. “I need to be out by eight tonight, and I have nowhere to go,
and I have my cats, and --” My voice broke, tears threatening.
There was a muffled commotion in the background. I could hear Carrie talking
and other people responding, but it was like she had her hand over the speaker
or something. I closed my eyes, bracing for rejection.
“Now drop me a pin and we’ll get over there.” Carrie sounded
determined and, I thought, authoritative? Like she was the one giving the
orders and everyone else was doing her bidding. So, I did as she instructed.
“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Relief flooded through me so fast I nearly dropped the phone.
“We?” My voice came out a squeak. I knew Carrie’s man was a
member of a local motorcycle club called Kiss of Death. Which I kind of liked
the sound of, but it was still a motorcycle club. Honestly, though, I kind of
thought the guys I’d met at the coffee shop were much safer than some of
the people living in this building.
“Oh yeah! The girls are gonna get you a room ready while Hannah and I
are bringing Knuckles and Hawk. We’ll get you packed up and out of there
in no time.”
“I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble, Carrie. It’s bad
enough I’m asking you guys for a place to stay.”
“Nonsense! We all want to help!” There was more racket in the
background, then Carrie was back. “We’re bringing boxes and some
big contractor bags. Anything you want to keep that’s soiled or smells
too bad we can put in there and wash later. Be on the lookout for a blue
Bronco.”
About the Author
Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife
by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined
with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a
sigh from her readers.
Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.
When a snowstorm traps Bryce Richardson in a secluded Vermont cabin with the one woman he never stopped loving, he’s supposed to be focused on security—not second chances. But Rachel Porter, daughter of Senator Porter and the only woman who ever really knew him, is back in his life with a desperate ask: pretend to be her boyfriend for the holiday… and keep her alive.
Silverberry Ridge might look like a picture-perfect winter postcard, but beneath the twinkling lights and pine-scented air, political power plays and security threats swirl. As Titan Group protects the senator’s hush-hush summit, danger creeps closer. For Bryce, duty comes first. For Rachel, survival means trusting the man who once broke her heart.
In a cabin filled with holiday tension, buried feelings reignite and the lines between fake and forever blur. But when enemies close in, the question isn’t whether love gets a second chance—it’s whether it survives at all.
A Very Titan Christmas is a sexy holiday romance with a guaranteed happily ever after and plenty of familiar faces as the Titan Group couples and kids show up to ring in the holidays!
“This is my boyfriend.” The words had come out of her mouth, but she heard her voice as if she were listening to an audiobook, as if someone else had made this outrageous claim, all the while sounding very unsure.
Roman snorted, then coughed to cover his reaction.
Bryce stepped back, but Rachel stayed with him. There was no way she would let him run away without prying off her fingers because, at this point, she would rather die than face her mother with the truth.
His muscles tensed under her grip, but she refused to let go. “Bryce, you remember my mother.”
“We met earlier,” Eloise pointed out. “When it seems he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“Can I have a word with you?” he whispered under his breath, but they were all close enough that everyone heard.
Rachel still didn’t let him go and decided to ignore him. She addressed her mother. “You remember we dated in high school?”
Eloise slowly blinked. “And, in the course of two hours, found yourself dating again?”
“Yes, absolutely. We’re so happy.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Bryce asked again. He laid a hand on top of the one digging into his jacket but must have realized she wouldn’t let go without making more of a scene than she was already causing.
She still ignored him.
“Excuse us,” he growled, then looped his free arm around her waist and practically carried her through the milling crowd of holiday shoppers until they were far enough away that she couldn’t see her mother. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry.” She released her grip on his arm. “I panicked.”
ABOUT CRISTIN:
New York Times bestselling author Cristin Harber packs her military romance, romantic suspense, and new adult romance novels with steam, sizzle, and action of all types. Whether you want fireworks in the bedroom or a hunky ex-military team that saves the day, her bestselling romance novels will make you swoon and smile.
