Spotlight: Christmas in a Cowboy’s Arms

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The Beating Heart of Christmas

Whether it’s a lonely spinster finding passion at last…an infamous outlaw-turned-lawman reaffirming the love that keeps him whole…a lost and broken drifter discovering family in unlikely places…a Texas Ranger risking it all for one remarkable woman…two lovers bringing together a family ripped apart by prejudice…or reunited lovers given a second chance to correct past mistakes…a Christmas spent in a cowboy’s arms is full of hope, laughter, and—most of all—love.

The six authors participating in this anthology are: USA Today bestseller Leigh Greenwood, USA Today bestseller Rosanne Bittner, New York Times bestseller Linda Broday, RITA finalist Anna Schmidt, New York Times bestseller Margaret Brownley, and USA Today bestseller Amy Sandas.

Excerpt

In the wild and untamed West, it takes a cowboy’s embrace to see you through a long winter’s night. Stay toasty this holiday season with heart-warming tales from bestselling authors Leigh Greenwood, Rosanne Bittner, Linda Broday, Margaret Brownley, Anna Schmidt, and Amy Sandas

From “Father Christmas” by Leigh Greenwood

“If you’re going to shoot me, get on your feet first. I’d hate to have it known I was killed by a woman so weak she couldn’t stand up.”

“I can stand up,” Mary insisted. To prove her point, she threw back the covers and started to get to her feet. Immediately she felt faint.

Joe caught her before she fell.

“I never met such a foolish woman in my life. Stay in that bed, or I’ll tie you down. You can shoot me when you feel better. Meantime, you’d better give me this.” He took the pistol from her slackened grasp. “Next thing you know, you’ll drop it and put a hole through the chicken pot. I’m not chasing down another rooster.”

Mary started to laugh. The whole situation was too absurd. Nothing like this happened to ordinary people. She was ordinary, so it shouldn’t be happening to her.

She certainly shouldn’t be experiencing this odd feeling. It almost felt as if she wanted to cry. But she didn’t feel sad. She felt bemused and bewildered. Her brain was numb. Here she was, completely helpless, and she had tried to shoot the only human who had come along to help her.

She must be losing her mind.

From “A Chick-a-Dee Christmas” by Rosanne Bittner

“Sadie Mae!” Jake screamed her name as he made it around the other side of the small hill. He couldn’t see or hear her. All he saw was Tommy curled up on his knees against one of the boulders, a cougar clawing at his shoulder.

Jesus, where is Sadie Mae! Jake had to kill the cougar, but the bullet could go right through into Tommy or even into Sadie Mae. He could kill both of them!

“Grampa! Grampa!” he heard someone screaming behind him.

The boys must be watching. “Don’t shoot!” Jake ordered them.

It all happened in a matter of perhaps three seconds. Jake knew he had no choice. He cocked and raised his 30-30 Winchester. A six-gun might not do the job … but the risk! The risk! The big cat was moving violently over Tommy. Sadie Mae must be under him! One of the other kids could be next! He aimed … and prayed … and fired … cocked the rifle again … fired again.

From “The Christmas Stranger” by Linda Broday

Hank slowly tugged the long silk ribbon from around her neck, trailing the red fabric down one arm. He leaned closer. “There’s some mistletoe right over your head. I hope I’m not pressing my luck, but do you mind if I kiss you again?”

A happy, warm glow swept over her. “I don’t see anyone trying to fight you,” she whispered.

He pulled her up into his arms and drew the ribbon around her, tethering her to him. Sidalee had never felt more alive, more breathless, more…hot.

She tilted her face to him, feeling the wild beat of his heart that matched hers. He gently anchored her against the hard wall of his chest. The moment his lips touched hers, an aching hunger swept through her, turning her knees to pudding.

The yearning for him was so strong she clutched him to keep from falling in a puddle at his feet. One arm curled around his neck just under his hair. The strands brushed her skin like tiny feathers.

That’s when she knew she was falling in love with Hank Destry.

From “A Texas Ranger for Christmas” by Margaret Brownley

“Sadie, I care for you. I really do. I care for Adam, too. Is there a chance you and I can—?”

The question hung between them, the air taut with tension. At least he didn’t say love. Had he said he loved her, she would have been a goner for sure.

“No. No chance,” she said. Bad news was best delivered quickly and with as few words as possible.

He looked like she had hit him. “After last night I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” she snapped. Afraid of losing control, she curled her hands tight by her side. “All that fancy talk about retirin’ is just that—talk. You’ll always be a Texas Ranger. You won’t be able to help yourself. Rangers don’t make very good husbands. Don’t make good fathers, either.”

“I told you I planned on quitting and I meant it.”

She heaved a sigh. “Richard told me the same thing, and he’d lasted here at the farm three months. Three lousy months!”

“I’m not Richard.”

“No, but you’re one of them. Just like Richard and my pa. Pa promised to quit, too. But there was always another outlaw to chase. Another call to adventure.”

As a child she couldn’t compete with the lure of the rangers. But neither had she been able to compete as a grown woman.

Cole’s burning eyes held hers. “I’ll always be there for you,” he said, “And that’s a promise.”

She scoffed. “Those are mighty pretty words. They were pretty when Papa said them. They were pretty when Richard said them, too. But you know what? They don’t mean beans.”

For several moments the only sound was Adam banging on the table with his spoon.

“Sadie,” he said at last, his voice thick with emotion. “How can I prove that I mean what I say? What will it take?” His tender eyes met hers. “How can I make you believe that I will never leave you?”

“You can’t,” she whispered. It near broke her heart to say it, but it was better to lose him before the first stirrings of love turned into something deeper. As hard as it was now, it would be so much harder, later. “You can’t.”

From “A Christmas Baby” by Anna Schmidt

Louisa Johnson was late slipping out of the house, but she knew Rico would be there waiting. She had come to a decision and she would not be denied, not even by her father—a man she had adored her entire life, but one who now stood in the way of her being with Rico. She had no idea how to make things right with her father. What she knew with more certainty than she had ever known anything in her nineteen years was that she loved Rico Mendez and he was devoted to her. If her father couldn’t accept that—couldn’t look past their differences and see Rico for the kind, hard-working man he was—then she would have to force his hand.

From “A Christmas Reunion” by Amy Sandas

Her voice hit him like a blow straight to his sternum. Warren took an instinctive step back. Old memories sliced through him like the sharp edge of a scalpel against raw flesh.

It couldn’t be.

They were hundreds of miles from where he had last seen Honey Prentice in Montana. That distance was the only thing that had made it possible for him to come back out West. He had assured himself there was no chance he’d accidentally run into the woman who had torn his heart from his chest all those years ago.

But her gasp as she stepped out into the room told him he’d been wrong.

She was as beautiful as she had been as a girl of seventeen.

And she was not happy to see him.

She crossed the room with long, swift strides that had her cotton skirts whipping about her legs. In an easy movement, she pulled the bearded outlaw’s gun from his belt before he knew what she was about and then turned the weapon on Warren.

Fire flashed in her brown eyes as she held the gun steady with two hands. “What the hell are you doing here, Warren Reed?”

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Spotlight: Branded by Fire by Danielle Annett

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If you love Buffy the Vampire Slayer then you’ll love Aria Naveed. Kicking butt and saving people is kind of her thing.
 
Lovers of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance do NOT want miss out on Danielle Annett’s BRANDED BY FIRE.  You must see why Cherry Adair calls BRANDED BY FIRE a novel with “[b]reakneck pacing, a strong fierce heroine, and a twist at every corner”!

Aria Naveed can’t decide what’s worse—being mate-bonded to Declan Valkenaar, the Alpha of the Pacific Northwest Pack, or owning up to the fact that she’s developing feelings for him.

Her bond to Declan is the one thing keeping her grounded and preventing her new power from destroying everything and everyone around her.

If Aria doesn’t tread carefully, especially where her heart is concerned, she’ll learn the hard way that if you play with fire, you'll always get burned.

Excerpt

My hand glistened in the low light, the sheen of blood coating my palm reflected off the light fixtures in the basement of the Compound. I wrapped my arms around my shivering body and tried to ignore the blood now seeping through the thin cotton of my shirt. It was sticky, cold, and black.

Not human blood, I reminded myself.

The moment when I’d found Daniel’s body flashed through my mind. The feeling of cold and congealing blood seeping into my jeans still haunted me. I shuddered.

This time, it wasn’t innocent blood coating my hands.

I looked down at Irina’s undead heart inches away from my booted feet. I’d dropped it.

Glaring down, anger fueled my temptation to kick it.

I refrained just barely.

Needing to look away, I turned to Irina’s motionless form in the rogue cage. Her alabaster skin was starting to sink in on itself and her vibrant red hair seemed to have dulled in color though I knew that wasn’t actually possible.

I looked back to the undead heart beside me, satisfaction filled me. She’d deserved to die. She’d killed him, an innocent seven-year-old boy.

Blackened blood seemed to ooze out of the dead organ and temptation finally won out as I nudged the heart with my boot none too gently. A dark smear of thick liquid darkened the black leather. Definitely not a figment of my imagination, not that I wanted it to be.

Things just weren’t adding up.

I tried to shake the fog from my mind.

“What happened after you were abducted?” Declan’s voice called out.

I whirled around to see him cloaked in shadows. Shit, I’d forgotten he was in the room.

I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands. I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to remember my body strapped down to a cold metal table, needles in my veins and machines blaring in my ears. The sterile scent of antiseptic had filled the room and I’d been connected to Irina and Aiden through a series of IV tubes. Her vampiric blood sustaining me while Aiden used his telekinesis to try and rip my fire from me.

My mother had just stood there and watched.

My entire body began to vibrate beneath the surface of my skin and I scrubbed my hand over my face.

What the hell had happened?

I looked at Declan and could only shake my head.

My memories were muddled. Noah Thorne, the South Atlantic Alpha had kidnapped me, the bastard, and he’d handed me over to my mother. My life was so fucked up.

I rubbed my hand over my neck, searching for the point where the syringe had punctured my skin but all I felt were twin scars slightly raised where my neck met my shoulders. Remnants of Declan’s bite when he’d mate claimed me.

I didn’t need to think about that, not right now.

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About Danielle Annett

Danielle Annett is a reader, writer, designer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters. Born in the SF Bay area, she now resides in Spokane, WA, the primary location for her Blood & Magic series. Danielle writes about kick butt heroines in volatile settings and like her, most of them have some level of addiction to coffee.

When not writing, Danielle can be found hanging out with her two children whom she fondly refers to as her little monsters, or catching up on the latest episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Game of Thrones.

Connect with Danielle: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Exclusive Excerpt: Burn For You by J.T. Geissinger

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Jackson “The Beast” Boudreaux is rich, gorgeous, and unbelievably rude to the staff at Chef Bianca Hardwick’s New Orleans restaurant. Bianca would sooner douse herself in hot sauce than cook for Jackson again, but when he asks her to cater his fund-raiser, Bianca can’t refuse, knowing the cash will help pay her mother’s medical bills. Then Jackson makes another outrageous request: Marry me. The unconventional offer includes an enormous sum—money Bianca desperately needs, even if it does come with a contract—and a stunning ring.

The heir to a family bourbon dynasty, Jackson knows the rumors swirling around him. The truth is even darker. Still, he needs a wife to secure his inheritance, and free-spirited, sassy Bianca would play the part beautifully. Soon, though, their simple business deal evolves into an emotional intimacy he’s built walls to avoid.

As the passion heats up between them, Bianca and Jackson struggle to define which feelings are real and which are for show. Is falling for your fake fiancé the best happy ending…or a recipe for disaster?

Exclusive Excerpt

Rayford was already waiting at the curb with the car door open when I left the restaurant. That was a good thing, because in my current mood I might have torn the door right off its hinges.
 
Seething, I climbed into the back of the Bentley. Rayford shut the door behind me without a word. When he started the car and we drove away, I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or disappointed.
 
I’d never met such an irritating woman in my entire life. The mouth on her! The attitude!
 
The incredible heart-shaped ass.
 
I clenched my teeth and stared out into the rainy night. I hadn’t wanted a woman in a long time. Cricket had seen to that. After that disaster, all I could see when a woman looked at me were the dollar signs in her eyes.
 
But this firecracker Bianca Hardwick. Christ. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss that smart mouth or put a gag in it.
 
“How was the food, sir?” asked Rayford, peering at me in the rearview mirror.
 
Still boiling with anger, I snapped, “Adequate.”
 
Well accustomed to my moods and knowing that was the highest praise I’d ever give anything, Rayford nodded. “Her mama was a great cook, too. Davina’s restaurant was around for, oh, twenty years I think before Hurricane Katrina blew through and wiped it out.” He chuckled. “I had many a meal there back in the day. Every time I came to visit my baby brother, I made sure to stop by. Never forgot Davina’s jambalaya. It was like havin’ a mouthful of heaven. And it wasn’t only the food that kept me comin’ back. Miss Davina Hardwick was one of the finest-lookin’ women I ever seen.”
 
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
 
Even with no makeup, her dark hair scraped back into a severe bun, wearing a pair of hideous clogs, a stained apron, and a sexless white chef’s coat that covered her from neck to wrists, Bianca Hardwick was stunning. All flashing black eyes and glowing brown skin and ferocious self-confidence, she was a dead ringer for a young Halle Berry.
 
A young, aggravating Halle Berry.
 
I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled.
 
It wasn’t all her fault I was on edge. I’d been on edge before I even set foot in the place. My personal chef—the fourth in six months—had left in a snit after I’d said the eggs were runny at breakfast, I was hosting a charity benefit for three hundred people in two weeks and would have to try to find a caterer since I didn’t have a chef, and Cody’s good-for-nothing junkie mother had just gotten thrown in jail on possession charges.
 
Again.
 
But it was the phone call from my father that had really put the cherry on top. The same phone call I’d been getting every week for going on four years.
 
When are you coming back to Kentucky? When are you going to stop this foolishness and take over your responsibilities? Boudreaux Bourbon hasn’t had a Master Distiller who wasn’t a family member in over two hundred years! You’re breaking your mother’s heart!
 
And on and on, until my ears bled. It didn’t matter how much he begged, though. I was never going back.
 
Returning to Kentucky meant returning to that world of privilege and power I wanted nothing to do with, that viper’s den of genteel, well-mannered people who smiled and shook your hand, then started sharpening the knives as soon as your back was turned. There wasn’t a single person in my social circle aside from my parents I could trust.
 
Money makes people greedy. A lot of money makes them ruthless. I’d learned that the hard way.
 
Liars, schemers, and snakes, all of them. It was safer in New Orleans. I didn’t have to fend off as many bullshitters trying to befriend me so they could get their hands on my bank account.
 
Bianca Hardwick definitely didn’t care about befriending me. And judging by the free dinner, she didn’t give a damn about my bank account. The only thing she seemed to care about was insulting me.
 
You’re the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard.
 
Sassy goddamn woman. No one ever spoke to me like that.
 
My mouth was doing something strange. It took me a moment to realize my lips were curving up, another moment to remember that meant I was smiling.
 
“You feelin’ all right, sir?” asked Rayford, watching me in the rearview mirror with concern.
 
“Of course. Why?”
 
“Because you look a little funny. Sick, maybe.”
 
When I scowled, Rayford looked relieved.
 
How depressing. I’d better never think about Bianca Hardwick’s smart mouth or perfect ass again, or Rayford might think I was dying.

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About the Author

J.T. Geissinger is an award-winning author of paranormal and contemporary romance featuring dark and twisted plots, kick-ass heroines, and alpha heroes whose hearts are even bigger than their muscles. Her debut fantasy romance Shadow's Edge was a #1 bestseller on Amazon US and UK and won the Prism award for Best First Book. Her follow-up novel, Edge of Oblivion, was a RITA Award finalist for Paranormal Romance from the Romance Writers of America, and she has been nominated for numerous awards for her work.

She resides in Los Angeles with her husband.

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Spotlight: Sunrise Station by E.S.P.

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Three books. Three women. One incredible ride.

1. Playmate: There’s a first time for everything, and Angel has experienced a lot of firsts. Her first time sneaking out the house. Her first time being kicked out the house. Her first time living on her own. When Angel cheats on her boyfriend with a friend of his, it might be the very first time Angel is completely out of control of her own life. Raw, raunchy, and fragile, Playmate is the story of what happens when you play with fire and fire plays back.
Disclaimer: contains strong language and mature content

2. The Sleeper: Ray has worked in the publishing industry for years. She’s worked on hundreds of manuscripts and knows each and every way a story could end. So when her coworker informs her about a serial killer terrorizing their state, Ray thinks its just another work of fiction. Until they find themselves trapped, abducted and lost in a story with a million twists and the most unpredictable ending of all.
Disclaimer: contains graphic content

3. Sunrise Station: Abigail isn’t unique, eccentric or interesting. She isn’t popular or well known by any means. And that’s okay. Jace is everything Abigail’s not, and that excites her. That captivates her. And when Abigail crosses the line between obsession and self control, she takes a high-school crush to a point she might not be able to turn back from.

Excerpt

The clock on the wall reads 3:15. Perfect timing.

And this is where it gets weird.

I pack up quickly and speed walk to my car, out of the parking lot by 3:17, and the radio comes crackling to life.

“Next on Sunshine Station, we have a caller by the name of Grace Whitney. Grace, what’s your favorite summer jam?”

By the time I’m back in the school lot, the baseball team is jogging out the side door to the track. I scan the line, searching for that bouncing head of curly hair.

Jace is at the end of the line. His face always looks serious at practice. His baseball pants fit him well, highlighting his muscular legs and round derriere. I only have eyes for him.

Sadly, this isn’t the weird part.

I wait until the team is completely out on the track to leave my car. Thankfully the track is behind the school and my car can’t be seen from that area. The lot is empty—exactly how I need it.

No one ever bothers to lock the side door, which makes it easy to access the boy’s locker room. The lights are off and it reeks of sweat. I pause and listen to the silence, making sure it’s completely empty.

Once it becomes clear that no one else is in here, I can feel a physical weight dispel off my body. I feel like my guts have been twisted all day, and now there is relief. I am calm. I am home.

I only turn on one of the lights. It’s like a runway strip to Jace’s locker. I can see his backpack, overstuffed and slumped on the floor. A pot of gold.

My hands shake as I unzip the top and pull out his blue varsity jacket. My senses become full with the smell of him. It feels amazingly warm on me, and comforting, like I’m wrapped up in his arms. This is what it would feel like if I were wrapped in his arms. I wish I never had to leave, wish I could be encased in his false embrace forever.

Jace is chronically unorganized. His binder bulges with loose leaf paper and graded tests

and random flyers. I thumb through it quickly. A 73 on his calc test—ouch. My baby is not good at math.

He has the pages folded down hard in The Catcher in the Rye. I hate how he doesn’t use bookmarks. He’s not even far in the book; Holden hasn’t even left Pencey yet. I would love to tutor him.

I love Jace’s handwriting. It’s not at all like you’d imagine it. It’s small and scrawled, like a hasty message on the wall of a bathroom. His handwriting is casual, but he’s larger than life.

The three forty-five alarm on my phone goes off. The football team will be arriving soon. It’s time to go.

My eyes well up as I pull off the jacket. The fantasy is over and I am back to not living. The lights are too bright. I feel cold.

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About the Author

Being the daughter of an accomplished author, E.S.P. grew up listening to stories and telling her own to classmates. At fourteen years old she self-published her first novel, but feeling like a small fish in the literary pond she quickly removed it from all publishing avenues. After three years of inactivity, Eboni published her second novel, Soft Eyes and Troubled Minds: Literary Works for the Disturbed at Heart, coauthored with a close friend. At the conclusion of her senior year in high school, E.S.P. published her third novel, Sunrise Station, and has much more writing in store. When she's not writing, she's either reading books, talking about books, or watching god-awful movies.

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Spotlight: The Funeral Flower by Michelle Jester

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Devastated by the death of her grandfather, six-year-old Kelly Rodgers barely manages to cope with the profound loss. Already facing issues at school, she finds herself spiraling deeper into despair, when a fateful interaction through the fence in her backyard gives her hope. In the years following, Kelly realizes that life’s tragedies can be dealt with through acceptance; until another series of agonizing events leaves her heart in pieces.

Finding herself thrown into new surroundings, Kelly embraces her life and resolves to never fall in love. That decision is easy to keep until her junior year when she is drawn by an unavoidable attraction to the new guy, tormented James Delaney. The moment he looks up at her and smiles, her body betrays her. And he notices. She is determined to avoid him, but soon Kelly is forced to face the inevitable truth: She doesn’t want to avoid James... and he won’t let her.

Even though tragedy always follows love.
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Due to critical subject matter recommended for Ages 17+

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About the Author

I am a hopeless romantic (I think this is the most important thing to know about me). In addition, I live in Greenwell Springs, Louisiana with my husband and high school sweetheart. Together we have a son and daughter. Throughout my life writing and photography have been my main creative outlets.

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Exclusive Excerpt: Joyfully His by Jamie Beck

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Folks in Sterling Canyon know that small towns have long memories. Two years after the DUI that injured a pedestrian, Andy Randall is still making amends. He hopes the Christmas spirit will help him get rehired as a ski instructor, but that job will come with conditions. He can’t afford another mistake, which is exactly what making a play for his former boss and friend, Nikki Steele, would be.

Nikki races down double black diamonds and hikes mountains better than most guys, unafraid of tumbling down the slopes. But trusting the guy who once shot her down could end in a fall that actually hurts, especially when she’d have to vouch for him with her boss. Still, the resort needs another instructor to handle the holiday tourists, and Andy’s sexy grin and relaxed charisma make him hard to resist.

With both of their reputations now on the line, can Andy convince Nikki that the second chance he wants isn’t only about the job?

Exclusive Excerpt

Nikki wanted nothing more than to find the nearest seat. Her arches hurt, and her cramped toes had lost all circulation thanks to being shoved into the open-toe cutouts at the tips of her sister Amy’s too-small shoes.

What kind of fool wears strappy, sparkling heels—stilts—to a wedding? She hated heels, but Amy had forced her to buy a whole new outfit, demanding she “gussy up” for the night.

Amy viewed any wedding as ideal boyfriend-hunting grounds and complained that it was past time both Steele sisters found a man. Nikki didn’t want to acknowledge the long-shot hope of why she’d been willing to go along with Amy’s advice, and so far hadn’t worked up the courage to do anything about it. Now she towered over all the women and half the men, like an Amazonian Smurf. She couldn’t feel more self-conscious if she were naked and singing karaoke.

The worst part—she’d known better. Tight, revealing clothes had never made her feel sexy or fit in.

Not that fitting in had ever been her thing. Most of the time she didn’t care. Most of the time she liked the fact that she could pound a beer, race down a double black, and hike to the top of The Cirque as well as, if not better than, any guy in town. None of the more traditional, pretty girls in town had her rare talents. But on days like this, when she watched yet another friend—a more feminine, dainty woman—walk down the aisle toward a man who was obviously in love, she couldn’t help but acknowledge a twinge of envy. A tiny, silly, yet heartfelt wish to fit in and find love.

Oh, God. Sappiness meant she’d had too much booze.

She hobbled to the nearest dining chair and plopped herself down and leaned back, letting her legs splay slightly. Sweet lord, what a flippin’ relief.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Andy Randall across the room. Such a hottie with his long, lean body, sandy waves of hair, friendly green eyes, and friendlier smile. The sweet talker had perfected that combo of boy-next-door charm and sex appeal back in seventh grade. She’d been a year ahead of him in school, but he’d been her middle school crush. Even now, her heart still beat a little faster at the sight of him. Stupid heart.

Of course, Shana Willis was now throwing herself at him—quite literally, based on the way her boobs grazed his chest. Andy peeked down at Shana’s cleavage, too. Who could blame him? Those double Ds were hard to ignore.

Andy looked up and caught Nikki watching him. Crap. Surely her face had turned as red as Rudolph’s nose. Busted, she nodded with a smile.

He winked at her, then pried Shana’s hands off his chest and started toward her.

Winking. How like him to be flirty and cute.

Befitting a man with his even temperament and touch of sweetness. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and yet he stirred up all these feelings she couldn’t express—being shot down once had been enough. There’d been times since then when Andy’s behavior made her wonder if he’d started to see her as more than a friend. But absent a declaration by megaphone on his part, she’d ruthlessly bury her own feelings before she’d ever humiliate herself again. 

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About the Author

Jamie Beck is a former attorney with a passion for inventing stories about love and redemption. In addition to writing novels, she also pens articles on behalf of a local nonprofit organization dedicated to empowering youth and strengthening families. Fortunately, when she isn’t tapping away at the keyboard, she is a grateful wife and mother to a very patient, supportive family.

Connect with Jaime via her Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads