Saturday, March 28, 2015

Friday, March 27, 2015

We Are Proud To Announce ...

On March 26, the Romance Writers of America announced the finalists for the prestigious RITA and Golden Heart awards. We are THRILLED to announce that there are FOUR Superromances in the running! 

Starting with June
by Emilie Rose
Harlequin, Superromance
Wanda Ottewell and Karen Reid, editors

The Sweetest September
by Liz Talley
Harlequin, Superromance
Megan Long and Wanda Ottewell, editors

Her Kind of Trouble
by Sarah Mayberry
Harlequin, Superromance
Wanda Ottewell, editor

Once a Family 
by Tara Taylor Quinn
Harlequin, Superromance
Paula Eykelhof, editor

Bravo, ladies! We'll be cheering for all of you at the RWA National Conference in New York this July!

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Write Where the Muse Is ... by Dana Nussio

I want to be like Barbara Cartland. Okay, let's admit it. Plenty of us writerly folk would love, just for a day, to live the lavish writing life of the late British author once deemed the "Queen of Romance."  In case you don't remember her,  Dame Barbara was the author of more than 700 books, many she dictated to her secretaries while relaxing on her fancy sofa. Funny, I don't envy her that unbelievable number of books (couldn't even imagine that), her millions (though a few couldn't hurt), the pearls and furs (not my cup of tea)  or even her white Rolls-Royce (well, maybe just one ride). But that writing setup she had going . . . now that I might like.

I know. Authors have different schedules and locations for writing. And though Barbara's spot was immensely successful for her as she dictated stories dressed-up in pink clothes, a little dog at her feet, her writing plan might not work for another author like me. First off, I don't have a dog. My two kitties would vote no if we tried to introduce a slobbering puppy to their house now. Secondly, getting all dressed up to doesn't exactly help me get my creative groove on. On weekends, I prefer to write in flannel PJs with my cat, Leo, trying to wedge his ample body between my tummy and my  laptop. (Yes, he's very cute, but a bit annoying when I'm on deadline.) 

But more important than either of those challenges I would have with the Cartland method, I'm not sure I could even write books if I had to tell my stories out loud. For some reason, my stories just don't come to me in the perfect, straight-forward way they must have for Barbara Cartland to be able to dictate her books. I generally bang out a few pages, typing as fast as I can to get the  main idea of the scene on "paper," and then I go back and flesh it out.  I even write some scenes entirely in dialogue and then go back and paint the pictures. 

Truth be told, I do much of my writing at the local Biggby Coffee franchise (a Michigan-based company) each afternoon after my day job . I might love the place because the owner is a friend, he employed all three of my daughters all through high school, and he has allowed me to host my annual Girls' Night Out Book Signing there for seven years now,  but it's more than that, I swear. :)  Why would I need to sprawl on a fancy chaise to when I can sit on a hard chair and sip lattes? Both of those things help me to stay alert, which is critical for a gal who would become Sleeping Not-So-Beauty, with keyboard imprints on my face, if given access to any sofa at that time of day. 
But my favorite part about writing in a coffee shop is that I get to be enveloped by all of that delicious white noise, courtesy of the background music and those folks talking around me but not to me. White noise is the best, and they offer that stuff for free! For some reason, all of those things meld really well, helping me to find my muse.

So maybe we writers all have to find out own way, trying out times and locations until we find what works for us. Then when life changes, we might have to adjust. We must do whatever it takes to get the stories in our heads on the page where they belong. Barbara Cartland did what worked for her, and I do what works for me.

Still, if anyone's offering, I would appreciate my ride in the Rolls right after I'm off deadline. I'll put in my order now.  

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Baked With Love!

I love small family bakeries. There’s something about a business whose goal is to make something good to eat for you to take home that strikes me as pure and honest and down-home. Whenever I pass a bakery, I have to restrain myself from going in and buying everything in sight, not only because I know all those goodies are delicious, but also because those goodies are a labor of love, made by people who don’t make a lot of money and work long, grueling hours.

It’s one of the reasons why I set my latest book, A RECIPE FOR REUNION, in Georgette’s Bakery, a small-town roadside bakery. Georgette Caruthers started the business in Everville, New York, with her husband over fifty years ago. The little bakeshop outside of the main part of the community welcomes travelers and provides the townspeople with good food and friendship. But with her ailing health, Georgette needs help to keep her legacy running.

There’s only one woman she trusts with her recipes—Stephanie Stephens, a talented baker in her own right. Unfortunately for Steph, Georgette’s grandson Aaron has plans for his grandmother’s business, and she can’t count on him to make her a part of them. If Georgette’s is going to keep running, they’ll have to learn to work together.

Baked goods aren’t just yummy for your tummy—they can be nostalgic, healing, inspiring, therapeutic or even punishing, if you’re someone who eats as a form of self-destructive behavior. Something you won’t learn about in the book is that Georgette is extremely protective of her recipes because she considers them a form of power. She knows what every person in town likes, what they go for first when they’re feeling sad or happy or just plain hungry. The goodies people buy from her tell her a lot about what is going on in their lives and what kind of mood they’re in. And as Everville’s self-proclaimed grandmother, she feels it’s her duty to use this knowledge to help others.

In the spirit of helping and healing and bringing joy, she’s shared one of her most popular recipes with me. Included below is Stephanie’s own take on the recipe—the addition of ¼ cup of cocoa to turn the recipe into super-chocolatey chip cookies. I hope you enjoy!

I’m giving away one signed copy of my March Harlequin Superromance, A RECIPE FOR REUNION. Just comment below for a chance to win! Giveaway ends Friday, March 27, 2015 11:59 p.m. EST. Residents of Canada and the US only.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Look! It's a Call Story!

Hi everyone! I'm Janet Lee Nye. I’m new writer with Superromance. My first book, working title Man Maid, will be out late 2015 or early 2016. Thanks Jennifer Lohmann for letting me tell my call story.
I work night shift, so I sleep during the day. December 4, 2014, I woke to an unfamiliar number on my phone. And a message. I listened. I saved the message. Made a cup of coffee. Listened to the message again. Piya Campana. Harlequin. Superromance. Man Maid. I saved the message again. As the caffeine began to kick awake brain cells, I texted my fellow. “I just got a message from Harlequin.” “CALL BACK NOW,” was his return text. I had entered the Harlequin and Mills & Boon’s 2014 So You Think You Can Write contest almost on a whim. I saw its hashtag on Twitter and when I investigated, I saw it was almost entirely editor judged. Okay, let’s see what the editors think about it. I made the semifinals. The top 10. Then I didn’t win and didn’t hear back from Harlequin. After three weeks, I figured it was over for poor Man Maid. I got a second cup of coffee and called back. Piya was wonderful. I was still in such a state of shock I could hardly process what I was hearing. Contract? Advances? Deadlines? Pretty sure I gave the right answers because the revisions and contract did show up. I guess I was supposed to be elated, screaming, or crying. I was happy but mostly relieved and grateful. See, I was about to give up on Man Maid. A year of glowing R&R’s followed by rejections, a miss at being a finalist in the Golden Heart contest by one point and several agent rejections had left me thinking I should put Man Maid under the bed and move on. But I was frustrated because I knew it was a good story. It hurt to give up on it. A friend at the 2014 RWA national convention told me, “The closer you get, the bigger the disappointments are going to be.” She was so right. This is my first sale. I will be 55 years old this year. I started learning to write 15 years ago. I seriously began to learn the craft when I joined RWA in 2012. I will end with a bit of advice I received from Jackie Asheden when I asked her “When do I give up? When do I become the old lady making a fool of herself?” Her answer? “Never.” So to those of you still waiting on your call: don’t give up. Keep writing. Keep learning. Keep putting your work out there. Reach out to others for help. Just never quit! You can find me on Twitter @janlnye or Facebook Janet Lee Nye, Romance Author

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

My Most Memorable & Romantic Trip Rachel Brimble

As the warmer days (hopefully!) start to appear, I am looking forward to seeing what trips my family and I make this year...although a trip my husband and I made to Ireland last year will be tough to beat.

This trip will probably remain one of my most thrilling and romantic trips ever!

I heard through social media that Nora Roberts was to host a rare afternoon tea and signing at Ashford Castle in Ireland. As a huge fan and living in the England, I knew this was likely to be the only time I had a chance to meet my favorite romance writer. I "casually" mentioned her visit to my husband.

As a complete surprise to me, within twenty-four hours, he'd booked the flights, a night in Ashford Castle and afternoon tea with Nora. I was beyond ecstatic, as you can imagine!

The whole day was hectic with a nightmare taxi trip from the airport to the castle but we made it to the afternoon tea just as Nora was about to take to the stage to be interviewed by her UK editor. I literally sat there in awe the entire time, haha! Nora chatted with me and signed her latest book and when I mentioned writing for Superromance she asked me about my Templeton Cove series and said I needed to make it to a RWA conference. Which I will one day!

It was two days I will never forget.

Bring on summer 2015!

Book five in my Templeton Cove series is due for release in September - cannot wait to see my artwork for HER HOMETOWN REDEMPTION. Happy Reading!

Rachel x

A MAN LIKE HIM - Aug 2013

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Question Of The Month: How Do You Celebrate St. Patrick's Day?

We're back with our Question of the Month: Saint Patrick's day is held on March 17 in the US; it honors Saint Patrick, the missionary who brought Christianity to the Irish people in the 400's AD. Do you celebrate St. Patty's Day, and if so, what is your favorite St. Pat's tradition?

Vicki Essex: I think everyone can agree that my answer du jour heartily applies to celebrating St. Patrick's Day: WHISKEY.

Liz Talley: We really don’t celebrate beyond the wearing of green. Not much Irish in my family I suppose and I live in a Protestant heavy town. When I lived in New Orleans, there was a fun parade to celebrate and I think they combined the feast days of St. Patrick and St. Joseph into the Irish-Italian parade.  They threw beads (like at Mardi Gras) and cabbages. Guess I’ll be content with the memory of celebrating St. Paddy’s. New Orleans knows how to throw a party. 

Jennifer Lohmann: I've always worn green and generally had corned beef and cabbage for dinner on St. Patrick's Day. When I was a kid, I was always really excited if St. Patrick's Day happened when we were out skiing. To prevent pinching, my dad eventually stuck a shamrock sticker on his goggles, which tickled me greatly.

Kristina Knight: We do the wearing of the green - bebe actually made me buy her a green velour track suit this year! I was raised in Kansas City and they have a great parade there...where we are now there aren't any big parades, but we still bring out our green...and I bought a shamrock hat a couple of years ago at a craft show that I fill up with only-green M&Ms.

Kris Fletcher: I am almost embarrassed to admit how our family celebrates St. Patrick's Day. Oh, we'll eat corned beef, and wear green, and play lots of Irish Rovers songs, but the tradition that my kids most associate with this day involves ... um ... a couple of drops of green food coloring in the toilet. You see, it seems that when the leprechauns come to visit in the night, sometimes they need to use the facilities ...

Mary Sullivan: I wear something green, which isn't a fraction as nice as the tradition my mum had. When we were small, she used to send the Sullivan siblings to school wearing little bunches of live shamrocks pinned to our sweaters. I remember how much I used to love it!

Sharon Hartley: Since I was a little girl, I've always made sure to wear green on St. Patrick's Day.  You'd get pinched at my elementary school if you forgot!  Recently, my favorite tradition is a parade in Hollywood (Florida) where we stretch to catch Mardi Gras style beads thrown from festive, mostly green, floats.  Oh, and we like to sip a little Jameson's.

Dana Nussio: St. Patrick’s Day is a great day to celebrate being Irish, and with the maiden name, Corbit, I’m definitely that. I love to dress up in green and wear all of my St. Patrick’s Day pins, including the traditional “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” one. My favorite is a tiny pin with a real clover encased in it. My late step-grandmother brought me back that one from Shannon, Ireland.

Anna Sugden: Being English we don’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day at all. It’s not a big deal in Cambridge where we live - although it used to be a huge event when we lived in NJ!. One of the things we enjoyed back then was seeing our beloved NJ Devils play hockey on St. Patrick’s Day wearing their throwback red and green jerseys and cheering for our own Saint Patrik (Elias) to score! Some green beer may have been drunk ;). This year I’m breaking with tradition and celebrating St. Patrick’s Day with a special St. Patrick’s Day-themed Ice Cats short story in the collection Tiny Treats 2 (which is free to download from all the usual retailers!).

Angel Smits: Having gone to Ireland a couple year ago, St. Patrick's Day brings back great memories. We kissed the Blarney Stone! So it's a day to celebrate our memories, heritage and eat corned beef...on beautiful dark rye bread. Yum! (Sorry cabbage lovers.)

Nan Dixon: My mother was British, having met my father when he was stationed in England during WWII.  Her tradition was to wear orange on St. Patrick's Day to show her roots.  I usually wear orange too.  (Even though my sister, Patricia, was born on St Patrick's day. Strange isn't it!)

Cathryn Parry: My ethnicity is quite the cocktail, and while I'm not certain whether or not I have Irish blood, I celebrate St. Patrick's Day every year. I wear green to avoid being pinched, I search for parades and pubs, and I sing "Danny Boy" for my family--though I can never seem to do the song proper justice!

Joanne Rock: We are mostly Dutch /French in my family and I didn't grow up with any St. Patrick's Day traditions. As a young mom, I went looking for some fun way to help my kids celebrate and we hit on a cute tradition. We decorated a box for leprechaun treasure and left it outside, hoping they'd leave us a little gold. Usually, we got a candy bar instead, but it was fun-- especially for a mom of three boys-- to have an excuse to color lots of rainbows for a day!

Pamela Hearon: We have a small pub near us that always hires a Celtic music band for St. Patrick's Day.  We go there and eat corned beef and cabbage, drink Guinness, and jig the night away!

Friday, March 13, 2015

Stories of Hearth & Home....

by Amber Leigh Williams

Home. It’s a recurring theme in many of my books – finding home. Preserving home. Finding out just what “home” means not just for the body, but for the heart and soul as well.

Growing up, my parents worked every day so that my younger sister and I would always have that comfort and security. We lived in many houses, but it wasn’t just the walls that made these houses home. It was what built the walls and what kept them—and us—together.

As an adult, I look back and understand why home is so vital to me even now. If I didn’t have a home, a place of sanctuary, I’d feel baseless. I’d probably go more than a little mad. I may reminisce about the trips that I take with my family and the memories we make elsewhere, but my favorite stories all happened at home….

For example, one strange summer day, my husband and I were working outside in the yard of our first home—a very small ground-floor apartment that was a bit worse for wear, but we loved it and what we had there nonetheless. Suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck began to stand up. I got this very strange feeling that someone—or something—was watching us. I turned toward the house. Something drew my gaze up to the eaves just underneath the roofline and there it was. For a moment, I thought it was a prehistoric toy. It took several shocked moments for me to realize that it was a living creature. Believe it or not, it was a three-foot iguana that had been living in our attic. It peered out long enough for me to see it—and scream bloody murder—before disappearing back into the attic. My husband immediately crawled into the attic. I’m not sure that he believed my squealing insistence that I’d seen an iguana, of all things. I stood anxiously in the quiet of our apartment, listening to the shuffling overhead, hoping there weren’t other reptiles or furry critters for him to encounter up there. After several minutes, I heard several loud thumps, some heavy cursing, and then quite a bit of scrambling. A few minutes later, my husband appeared at the attic entrance holding, indeed, a three-foot iguana and looking quite amazed at the find. I wasn’t too sure about the creature…. When it was my turn to hold it, I was freaked out by the long nails and scaly skin. But the iguana was docile and never tried to take a nip at us. Even in the south where reptiles are abundant, it’s rare to find an iguana in your attic. We asked around the neighborhood and discovered that the people who lived just to our right had lost an iguana several months back. Yes, this probably means that it was living in our attic unbeknownst to us all that time. *shivers* My husband decided that it liked us. In fact, he said that it had chosen us. So he decided that we should keep it. I reluctantly agreed and “Frankie,” as we came to call him, completed our menagerie of dogs and cats and lived with us for the rest of his natural life.

The creature from above on the day he was found....
Another story surrounding hearth and home comes from the day we moved out of our little apartment and into a three-bedroom brick house across town. We were all too happy to be getting a house of that size on our budget. However, saying goodbye to our first marital home was bittersweet. The last thing we took from the apartment were the plants and flowers from the garden that were sentimental to us, including the daffodil bulbs I had collected from my great-grandmother’s childhood home-place in north Alabama. It was July. The air was heavy and humid as we raked and hoed bulbs from their earth-bed. Suddenly, out of nowhere a fine, cool breeze kissed our skin…and seconds later it started pouring down rain. Still, I wasn’t leaving until I’d found all the daffodil bulbs. My husband stood over me with an umbrella and hummed “La Vie En Rose” as he eyed the darkening clouds a bit worriedly. If anybody remembers the Disney Pixar movie, WALL-E, which we had recently seen in theaters at the time, WALL-E stands over his immobile friend, EVE, with an umbrella to keep her dry from the rain. Lightning strikes him and the umbrella over and over again but WALL-E doesn’t budge, doggedly determined to shelter EVE from the deluge. “La Vie En Rose,” sung by Louis Armstrong, served as one of the romantic themes during the movie. By the time I had a bucket full of bulbs and we had loaded it and our other garden treasures into the truck, my tennis shoes were seeping mud and I had dirt caked under my nails—but my face was hurting from grinning so much. I never would have thought we would be driving away from our first home smiling and laughing, but he made it happen.
There are so many other great “home” stories I could tell. But my all-time favorite is from Thanksgiving 2012. That Monday, our son and first child came into the world. After three days in the hospital, we brought him home. Thanksgiving was our first full day at home. We had told everyone that we had no plans for a Thanksgiving meal and would likely wind up eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as tired as we were by that point. However, my parents and sister came through in a big way. They bought a turkey to put on the Weber and made casseroles and salads so that we could celebrate our first Thanksgiving as a family in style. My husband and I didn’t have to lift a finger beyond feeding, diapering, and cuddling our newest addition. In fact, we didn’t make it all the way to mealtime before collapsing on the couch. Can you tell we’re new parents here? The hub hardly managed to down the first few sips of the traditional Thanksgiving cocktail before falling sound asleep….

This picture sums up the 2012 holidays very well, LOL

It’s your turn, readers! Feel free to reminisce your favorite story from “hearth and home!” And a happy upcoming St. Patrick’s Day!

Thursday, March 12, 2015

Springing Ahead is Dangerous

I was going to blog about spring today.  Minnesota was 66 on Tuesday.  Last week it was below zero.  I’ve even seen the neighborhood turkeys running around.  (This was last fall when the grass was green.)

But Monday my husband woke me saying he was having chest pains. 

This isn’t the first time my hubby has had chest pains, or even the second time.  He’s had two heart attacks, numerous scares and at least five angiograms.  By a little after seven there was a deputy, two EMTs and 2 ambulance personnel all gathered in my kitchen.  And we were taking care of Princess Fluffy Top, our grandchild, since our daughter and son-in-law were out of the country.  (I have Fluffy Top Friday on my Facebook page.)  So hubby headed to the hospital while I took Fluffy Top to daycare.  Then I headed to the ER.

I’d hope his pain would be bronchitis or pleurisy.  With Fluffy Top around, we’ve been picking up all her germs.  No luck.  The first enzyme test showed raised levels of troponin.  When heart muscle is damaged, troponin is released into the bloodstream.  Not good.  

On Monday evening they placed two more stents, bringing his total to date to—eight.  One of the old stents had become 95% blocked.  The doctor placed a new stent inside the old and another one downstream because the blockage was long.  It took 3 ½ hours.  Stents were the best possible outcome to his chest pains.

My hubby came home less than twenty-four hours after the procedure, exhausted but whole.

On the news Monday night, I heard that the day after we spring ahead has more heart attacks and car accidents.  A University of Michigan study says that there is a twenty-five percent surge in heart attacks on that Monday. 

Through stressful times, there are always bright spots.  Our children and their wonderful spouses are
those bright spots of light.  (Since so many of them are in the medical field, I have to ask a lot more technical questions and get specific test results.)  The nursing staff were wonderful and hard-working.  The residents were patient and spent time answering our questions.  And the cardiologist who performed the procedure was fabulous.

And as always, my family of writing friends offered cyber hugs and support that is invaluable and so appreciated.

I may not have written about spring—but we did have a happy ending to this week’s excitement.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Kris Fletcher's Winner!

Mary Preston, your comment made you the winner of a pack of Post-It Notes! Drop me a line with your mailing info ( and I'll send those right out to you.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Organization: Another Approach

Back in January, I shared my love of using index cards to help me stay on top of tasks. I come to you today to confess that I have strayed away from the index card path.

And so far, I am very happy that I did.

Here's the thing. Using the cards was a great start, but there was a drawback to seeing only one day's work at a time: it made it hard to look ahead and gauge what was still in the queue. In some ways, that was good. It definitely cut down on the "freaking out because there is so much to do" factor.

But while I like knowing that right at this minute, all I need to focus on are these two or three things, I do like having an easy way of knowing what else is waiting. That way, if I found myself with an extra twenty minutes or so (BWAHAHAHAHAHA!), I can easily deal with something that might be scheduled for later in the week.


This is the entry to my office, magically transformed (via the magic of sticky notes, that is) into a visual organization of the month ahead. This was absolutely not my idea. I first heard of this approach via a Lifehacker post, then located the book mentioned in the post and kind of inhaled it. A little thought as to how to adapt it to my needs, a few minutes spent scribbling tasks on notes, and I had myself a lovely month at a glance. 

But it's not just a way to SEE everything at once. This is also an active method. You can't see it in these photos, but with this approach, the object is to move those sticky notes through the various phases of a project. Let me explain. (And keep in mind that my approach is a little more complex than that explained in the post.)

Over on the top left are the notes for tasks and appointments for this month. (Future months and tasks that repeat every month or so have their own places on lower rows.) I take the notes for each week and move them to the top right row. The next row down is the DOING row: the things I must attend to this day. Some of those (work on the book, blog, spend 10 minutes cleaning) are things that repeat over and over, so the third and fourth rows are for tracking those. The bottom row (which I don't think is visible in this shot) is my favorite. That's where sticky notes go when their task is done, done, done. 

There's more to this method, but the basics are very simple. I love how it both limits my focus while keeping me aware of the rest of my life, so I don't lose track of tasks. Real-life example: I put dinner in the oven and found myself with a few open minutes. Tsarina had a friend here, so the noise level precluded writing. I glanced at this week's row, found the note that said "Write Super blog post," and moved it to DOING. And in about thirty seconds, it's going down to DONE. (Happy dancing shall then commence."

Thus far, I have found only one drawback to this method, and that is this: 

Index cards aren't very happy when they find out you've been cheating on them. 

What do you think, folks - does this system seem workable? Make you clutch your head and whimper? Any bets as to how long I will use it? One commenter (chosen at random on March 7) will win - you guessed it - a pack of neon-colored sticky notes. You know you want them!

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

There's Only Love And Love Is Enough (Tara Taylor Quinn)

This week sees the debut of the fifth book in the Where Secrets Are Safe series.  For those of you who love series, and love to read them in order - this isn't that kind of series.  While a couple of the books are interrelated, these books are individual stories, set at different times, with different characters.  The backdrop is the same - The Lemonade Stand.  People come and go from the stand.  Some of the stories don't include the Stand at all, but rather, are stories about people who have been affected by the Stand. I love all of the Where Secrets Are Safe books.  I created a shelter that I wish was real.  One that, if I ever have the means, I will open.  I particularly love this book in that it looks at an issue that is close to my heart – the idea of loving someone as your own who, technically, isn’t yours.
In today’s world relationships are a lot more fluid than they used to be.  They aren’t always forever – be that friendship or romantic commitment.  And yet when we give our hearts, we give them forever.  So what happens to all of the peripheral heart and family relationships when a couple breaks up?  In particular, what happens when you love a child as your own who does not biologically belong to you?
I had a friend for many years who struggled emotionally.  I took on her daughter as my own.  I loved that little girl, took her into my home, my family.  And when the friend moved on, when she determined that she no longer needed my help, she took her daughter with her and I was left with an emptiness in my heart that I couldn’t do anything about.

That emptiness is the basis of Mother By Fate.  I don’t have the answers.  But I understand the pain.  And believe that love really can heal whatever cuts we carry inside us.  I am living proof of that.

For those of you who love reading books in a series...I'm giving away any one of the first four books - winner's choice - in the Where Secrets Are Safe series to two different winners hear today!  Comment to win!  Happy loving everyone!

Sunday, March 1, 2015

March 2015 New Releases

The Comeback of Roy Walker (The Bakers of Baseball)
Stephanie Doyle

She's the key to his career—and his heart 

Roy Walker never did like the taste of humble pie. Too bad he's getting his share of it now that he needs to pitch one more season of pro baseball. Worse, he can't achieve it without the help of physiotherapist Lane Baker—the one woman who won't have anything to do with him. Somehow he has to make amends for the past.

But his intentions to be a better man get sidelined by the combustible connection between him and Lane. Ego aside, it's time to admit he never stopped wanting her…and his greatest comeback will be winning her!

Mother By Fate (Where Secrets Are Safe)
Tara Taylor Quinn

To trust a stranger… 

Sara Havens helps others. Mothers. Children. Those who seek to escape from violence. Her work with The Lemonade Stand—a unique women's shelter—also lets her forget the loss of the child who should have been hers. And when a handsome stranger strikes up a poolside conversation, it's no coincidence.

Bounty hunter Michael Edison is tracking a former resident of the shelter. Fearing for the missing woman's safety, Sara joins the pursuit. But nothing is what it appears to be—including Michael. As they grow closer, Sara risks losing her carefully constructed control…

A Recipe For Reunion
Vicki Essex

Second time's the charm! 

Nothing about working with his former high school crush, Stephanie Stephens, is ideal. Still, if Aaron Caruthers intends to save his grandmother's bakery, he must. Good thing he has a lot of ideas he can't wait to implement. He never imagines Stephanie would have her own ideas for the business. Or that they would clash with his!

It doesn't take working with her long for Aaron to realize his impression of Stephanie as a helpless ex-cheerleader is way off. And the more of her kindness and strength he sees, the more attracted he is! Now to convince her…

Falling For The New Guy
Nicole Helm

She needs a distraction 

One of Bluff City's finest, Tess Camden always follows the rules. That means a romp with the strong and silent new guy on the force would be out of the question. Besides, no matter how deliciously sexy Marc Santino is, she's his boss. So she'll stick with her keeping-to-herself routine.

Still, Marc has Tess aching to be all kinds of wrong. And all those reasons they have to stay away don't seem important…especially if their sexy arrangement remains their secret. Suddenly, their hot affair becomes more than just a distraction. Can they let it turn into something more?
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