Spotlight: Effortless, A Legacy Novel by Bethany-Kris

Camilla Donati doesn’t do relationships—it’s just not her thing. She wants a fun time, not a long time. She might be exactly what Tommaso Rossi needs to make his vacation from the responsibilities as a Capo, a break worth taking.

He didn’t expect to find a woman like her with a mind full of filth.

She didn’t expect a man who would shatter all of her rules with only a grin.

Chicago keeps calling Tommaso home, and further out of reach from the one thing he wants more than ever. Camilla’s restless heart keeps getting in the way even when it’s stuck between what is, and what could be.

This should have been easy.

It didn’t have to be messy.

Falling in love is effortless.

It’s people who make it hard.

Effortless: A Legacy Novel is a standalone contemporary erotic romance.

 

Excerpt

“About the club thing—”

Camilla held up a single finger to shush her brother without saying a word. She took a long sip from the coffee he’d handed over in a to-go mug from her cupboards. The creamy, sweet drink perked her up just enough to be agreeable.

“Never talk to me before coffee, Cross. You know this.”

Her brother’s familiar brown gaze rolled upward. He navigated the city streets to head east. Breakfast at a Newport restaurant on Saturdays was a new thing their parents wanted to do ever since Cross came home from Chicago a couple of months earlier.

“How’d you get into the club?” her brother asked.

Camilla smiled slyly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Do you know the security at the door, or did someone get you a fake ID?”

“Both?”

“Cam.”

She shrugged. “Guess we’re going to pretend like you weren’t the biggest trouble making shit on the planet from the time you were thirteen, huh?”

Cross cleared his throat. “This is not about me. It’s about you. I’m … looking out for you. Yeah, that works.”

“Bullshit. I paid Zeke.”

“I knew that bastard got you a fake ID,” Cross bitched under his breath.

Her brother’s best friend was way off-limits for Camilla in any kind of way—though he was cute, and probably a good time—because the guy treated her like a little sister. A side effect of having grown up around the guy since she was born.

“Be nice. He was looking out for me since you were in Chicago and all.”

Cross nodded. “Right, by getting you into clubs.”

“Like you never used to go into clubs with Catherine Marcello when she wasn’t legal age?”

Her brother stiffened in the driver’s seat of his Porsche at the mention of his ex. Camilla half-smiled to herself, but hid it by taking another drink of coffee. The best way to get Cross off a topic of conversation was to put his ex into it.

“At least it was just August in your bed this morning.”

Camilla snorted. “I apologized for the guy, Cross.”

“He had nothing on, Camilla.”

“And the girl,” she added. “I apologized for her, too.”

That was the first time her brother found out Camilla didn’t have a preference when it came to hooking up with somebody. As long as the guy or girl was going to be a good time, she was all for it. They had to be gone by morning, or soon after—that was her deal.

Camilla didn’t do relationships. She was too young, and having too much fun being nineteen, in college, and out on her own to settle down with somebody. Any relationship she did dabble in was done almost as soon as it started.

She found boys to be like toys. Fun to look at, cool to play with, but then she quickly lost interest. Although, she had never gotten into a relationship beyond sex with a woman, she figured it would probably end up being the same.

Camilla’s interest just couldn’t be kept for longer than it took to have an orgasm … or five.

That didn’t stop people from trying, though.

“I mean,” Cross said, glancing over at his sister, “the girl definitely wasn’t too bad to look at other than the fact she tried to kill me with one of your crystals. You know, when she threw it at my fucking head.”

Camilla laughed.

So she had an active sex life. Her brother liked to pick on her about it sometimes, but he never made her feel like she was doing something wrong. He never shamed her for the choices she made, and instead, only asked if she was safe and okay.

She loved her brother for that, really.

“She thought you were breaking into my place or something,” Camilla said.

“Because we don’t look like siblings at all,” Cross replied wryly.

He was right. The two shared the dominate Donati features, but where Cross took a stronger, more masculine version, Camilla was the lighter, feminine side. He was sharp lines, and she was soft curves. She barely reached five-foot-six in heels, while he towered over six feet. Her brother smiled, and showed off cut-from-stone cheekbones, and she carried her mother’s delicate nose and petite figure.

A person couldn’t miss how much the two looked similar, though.

“Maybe she thought you were going to try to join in or something,” Camilla said. “Some people are freaky like that—the whole sibling get up, you know.”

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About Bethany-Kris

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

Connect: Website • Blog •  Twitter • Facebook • Goodreads •  Pinterest • Mailing List 

Spotlight: Right Side by Leigh Taylor

Right Side
Leigh Taylor
(Worth The Wait, #2)
Publication date: January 12th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

Beatrice Remington has one great love in life. Fashion.

When Bea followed her twin brother, Henry, and his ranching dream to Oaks, Texas after graduating from fashion school; running the local boot shop seemed like a dream come true. Bea has everything she wants in life with her thriving business and a budding collection of couture formal wear designs until she watches her brother fall in love. Bea realizes the missing piece to her happiness is the love of her best friend and secret crush, Al Bosco. After years of dancing around one another, Bea sets up a date with the town vet to make Al jealous enough to claim her. However, Bea’s plan backfires and leaves her alone in Oaks with nothing but one fake boyfriend, one broken heart and one wedding dress to design.

Al Bosco has one great love in life.
Beatrice Remington.

Al has spent his entire life as the third wheel to the Remington twins. Somewhere along the line, as Henry became his brother, Beatrice became the love of his life. Only he’s never had the courage to admit it out loud. When Al shunned the family business to become a ranch hand at The Waitin’ Ranch, he set off a chain reaction that ensured he couldn’t risk bringing Bea’s heart into the chaos. As he finally breaks down and returns to his hometown to make things right so he can give Bea everything she deserves; she walks in holding hands with the town vet and looking happier than ever. Al may have a bruised ego but he’s on a mission to win Beatrice’s love once and for all. When he finally returns to Oaks, will his girl still have a heart to give to him or will Al be left with nothing but regret?

Can Beatrice and Al get on the right side before their love story becomes another scrap on the cutting room floor?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

I juggle my coffee as I slide the key into my studio door’s lock and push it open. Before I can get the lights on, the smell of fresh lilac hits me.

In the faint sunlight from the small windows, I see a floral arrangement on one of my work tables.

I flip on the lights and smile as I see the beautiful display in its glory.

The lilac sprigs are white and accent lush lipstick pink roses and baby pink peonies. It’s all my favorite flowers in my favorite colors.

I wonder if they’re a gift from Leslie so I cross the room quickly.

As I set my mug and my sketchpad down, I frown when I see the handwritten note by the flowers.

Not Leslie.

I finger the sheet of legal paper with lines of prose written in Sharpie.

Doubt the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.
-Shakespeare


Author Bio:

Leigh Taylor is a native Texan who now calls the Windy City home. Leigh loves all things romance related including novels and classic movies. Her love of reading and Texas inspired her to begin writing and share her characters with readers everywhere. When she isn’t working or writing about cowboys, Leigh enjoys spending time exploring her city, playing with her pets and relaxing with friends over a cup of tea or whiskey.

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Read an exclusive excerpt from Rock King by Tara Leigh

Today we have an excerpt from ROCK KING by Tara Leigh! I’m so excited to share this with you—be sure to grab your copy on Feb 20th!

Fans of Kristen Callihan and Kylie Scott will scream for this sizzling bad boy rock star romance! 

I'm not who you think I am.

Shane Hawthorne has it all. At least, that's what the headlines say about me. I have millions of fans, awards, more money - and women - than I know what to do with. But what you don't see is the wreckage I've caused. The memories and pain I can't escape, even when I pour them into music and spin them into gold. 

I tried to forget. To lose myself in booze and groupies. It didn't work. It hurt me and - worse - it hurt my band. That's the last thing I want to do, so I'm cleaning up my act... starting with Delaney Fraser. 

Gorgeous, smart, drama-free, and even nice - Delaney is the perfect "girlfriend." When I'm with her I don't have to pretend. It's like she sees the real me. And I can see a future with her. But that's dangerous. Because the truth is, Shane Hawthorne doesn't actually exist. He's a shield to hide who I really am. Fraud. Runaway. Addict. Murderer.

And it's impossible to love a lie, right? 

Exclusive Excerpt

Shane Hawthorne.

Seriously, I could get lost in his face and enjoy every minute of my journey. Glide across the high plane of his forehead, cartwheel down the sharp angles of his cheekbones, slide along his jaw to land at his mouth. Full lips, slightly crooked at one corner, smiled down at me.

Up close, Shane’s longish hair was a river of brown, from dusky caramel to burnished mahogany, threaded through with shades of henna, chocolate, and deepest umber. He wore a snug black button-down shirt, setting off his tall, buff physique perfectly, the sleeves rolled up just enough to catch traces of ink on his tanned forearms, leaving me fighting an urge to push aside the fabric and expose everything that remained hidden. I longed for a pocket to stuff my hands into, settling instead for awkwardly wrapping both around my sweating glass.

Shane eyed me curiously, as if he knew I didn’t belong. As if he knew the direction of my wholly inappropriate thoughts. “I guess you’re here for me, then.” A grin spread across his face, punctuated by a sexy-as-hell dimple in his left cheek.

“Me?” I choked. What on earth would Shane Hawthorne want with me? I swallowed thickly, my eyes darting around for Piper. I am so out of my league.

With a hand in the back pocket of his ragged jeans, Shane followed the path of my anxious stare. “Expecting someone?”

My focus snapped back to Shane’s face. “No.” I shook my head. “Sorry. This is just so not me. I don’t wind up at Beverly Hills parties talking to rock stars. I mean, this is crazy.” My fingers twitched. There was no part of him I could look at without wanting to touch—especially the two-day growth of scruff covering his strong jaw, which practically guaranteed goose bumps if it brushed along any part of my anatomy.

“Imagine how I feel.”

I tilted my head. “You?”

“Yeah. I’m usually stuck in a tour bus or chartered plane flying to some city I won’t actually see. But tonight I’m at a Beverly Hills party where I don’t really know anyone, besides my agent and a few industry suits, talking to the most gorgeous girl in the place. Pretty lucky, huh?”

Feeling like a complete idiot, I looked around again. And then I pointed at my collarbone with my index finger. “Me?” I repeated.

Shane threw back his head and laughed. Instantly I wished I could record the sound on my phone so I could play it on repeat. Forever. It was the most delicious noise I’d ever heard. “Yeah, you. Where did you come from, anyway?”

“Bronxville,” I squeaked.

Shane laughed even harder. When he finally got control of himself, he brushed at his eyes. “And do you have a name, or should I just call you Bronx all night?”

All night. “Delaney. Delaney Fraser.” I extended my hand.

“I’m Shane.” Offering his last name would have been redundant. Shane’s fingers closed around mine, the pad of his thumb pressing into the center of my palm.

I nearly groaned. Please don’t let go, ever. “Would I sound like a groupie if I said I already knew that?”

He quirked a rich, sable brow. “Are you a groupie?”

I shook my head. “No. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a fan.” Since high school, when lusting after rock stars I’d never meet was safer than talking to boys I encountered in my real life, who eyed my chubby body and frizzy hair with barely disguised revulsion.

“I do love my fans.” Shane’s throaty growl pulsed in my ears, and for a moment I let myself believe he might be flirting with me. But then I looked down, a blush staining my cheeks as a sea of uncomfortable memories rushed in. Get a grip, Delaney. Why would Shane Hawthorne ever be interested you? All those years of awkwardness, of feeling so uncomfortable I almost couldn’t bear it, were still trapped inside me even though my reflection in the mirror had changed.

Shane lifted his other hand to my jaw, pulling my gaze back to him. “Don’t do that.”

His fingertips were hot, controlling my blood flow like some kind of stylus. I could feel it rushing to the surface of my skin, surging to meet Shane’s touch. “Do what?” I asked, my voice a ragged whisper.

“Look away from me. I like feeling your eyes on my face.” He balled his hand into a fist against my cheek, stroking my flesh with his knuckles, each touch erasing a tiny piece of the self-conscious teen living inside me.

Knowing this was probably the last time I would be so close, I studied Shane. Memorized his face. His lips, I decided, were almost too full to belong on a man’s face. Tried to imagine how they would feel on mine.

“If you keep looking at my mouth like that, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.” Shane’s comment interrupted my perusal.

Color me gullible, but I couldn’t help myself. “What would happen?” I breathed. There was a moment before Shane answered, a moment when I lost myself in his eyes. His pupils were black flies caught within a whorl of amber. My heart thudded inside my chest, trapped by the darkness I saw within the depths of his gaze. Shane Hawthorne wasn’t just some vapid one-dimensional celebrity. He bristled with intensity. And even in the center of a Beverly Hills party, punctuated by popping corks and trying-too-hard laughs, waves of danger rolled off Shane’s broad shoulders, swirling around me like the chilly waters of the Pacific.

I should have been scared. I was, actually. But not scared off. I wanted to meld my body against Shane’s taut length, potential groupie status be damned. Desire filled my lungs, every breath a heady cocktail, and I swayed toward him, catching myself just before crashing into the perfectly carved statue wrapped in tight jeans and a shirt that did nothing to hide his rippling abs.

Shane stood still, watching the flicker of emotions on my face with interest. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. Somewhere with a lot less people. Somewhere we could both be wearing a lot less clothes.”

Pulling my eyes away from Shane’s blistering gaze, I looked down at the trail of feverish skin exposed by the plunging neckline of my borrowed dress. “I don’t think I could wear anything less and still be considered dressed.” I didn’t even recognize myself right now. Was I flirting?

His laugh was a caress, the rich timbre soothing nerves rubbed raw by his overwhelming presence. “That’s my point. Exactly.”

Breath punched from my lungs and I staggered back a step. Shane didn’t mince words, did he? I raised my face back to his, just as he reclaimed the distance I’d put between us.

“Let’s go,” he added, one of his hands reaching out to cup my elbow.

A shiver tore through me at Shane’s blunt command, reality hitting hard from the shock of his palm sliding against my skin. Instinct made me step back, out of reach. I didn’t have room in my life for Shane Hawthorne. He was a distraction I couldn’t afford. There was only one man I should be focused on right now, and he was sitting in a jail cell. Because of me. I was the only one who knew he was innocent, except he’d made me promise not to say anything. I was free because of him, but feeling alive—smiling and laughing and having fun. It had been three years since any of those things felt appropriate, or even possible.

Tonight, I did feel alive. And I was smiling and laughing and having fun. God, it felt so good. And so wrong.

There was a woman lying in a cold grave tonight whose laugh I would never hear again.

What Shane was offering—more of this, of him, of feeling this way—terrified me. Spending the night with Shane Hawthorne, or even just a few hours, would either be knock-my-socks-off amazing, or a bitter disappointment. Either way, when he walked away from me without a second glance, I’d be crushed.

I had reached my quota of broken dreams already. One more might break me.

“Sorry. That’s not who I am.” I forced the words out through gritted teeth, the quivering kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach launching a winged protest. I’d already started to walk away when Shane grabbed my arm, pulling me so close I could feel the washboard of muscles ridging his abdomen. His touch seared my skin, melting my willpower.

“Who are you?” he whispered in my ear. Shane’s breath was hot along my neck, sending ripples of need racing in all directions before making their way to one spot in particular. Throbbing en masse.

My resolve wavered, desperate to claim the promise shining from Shane’s eyes. The promise that he’d outshine everything in my world for just a few minutes. That he’d make me forget about the wrecking ball that had slammed into my life and shattered everything I’d ever believed in. But this kind of reaction, just from a touch…No. Any more and I’d go into toxic shock.

I glanced around, not wanting to make a scene, wrenching my arm from Shane’s grasp with a small grunt and forcing words past my lips that left a bitter taste in my mouth. “No one you want to know.”

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About Tara Leigh

Tara Leigh attended Washington University in St. Louis and Columbia Business School in New York, and worked on Wall Street and Main Street before “retiring” to become a wife and mother. When the people in her head became just as real as the people in her life, she decided to put their stories on paper. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children and fur-baby, Pixie.

Connect with Tara: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest

Cover Reveal: The Inheritance by Mika Lane

The Inheritance
Mika Lane
Publication date: February 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

Life was good. I was tending bar, making enough to get by, paying my rent, and enjoying the occasional cocktail with my best friend gay boyfriend, Matty. And then I got the call. One of my customers had passed. The one who we nicknamed “Grandpa,” who’d watch us for hours from his seat at the bar, sucking on the same beer, never leaving a tip.

For some reason the old coot left me his estate. Huh? He looked like the last person in the world to have an “estate.” Well, did your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?

And thanks to good old Grandpa, it looks like I may never have to work again.

But of course there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. I only get Grandpa’s money if I’m 25 years old (check), and married (not checked; not by a landslide). And–I only have 30 days to pull this off.

I didn’t see how I could make it happen, until four eligible bachelors waltzed into my life. Then, I had a whole different set of problems…

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Author Bio:

Writing has been a passion of Mika’s since a young age (her first book was "The Day I Ate the Milkyway"), but erotic romance is now what gives purpose to her days and nights. She lives in magical Northern California with her own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill. A devotee of the intelligent and beautiful, and lover of shiny things, she’s a yogi, hiker, traveler, thinker, observer, and book worm. She has been known to drink cheap champagne and has way too many shoes.

A National Reader's Choice Awards finalist, Mika always deliver a hot, sexy romp, often with imperfect characters, and a promised happily ever after (or at least happy for now).

She LOVES to hear from readers, and can be found at www.mikalane.com, and facebook.com/mikalaneauthor, when she's not dreaming up naughty tales to share.

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Spotlight: The Billionaire’s Betrayal by Mika Lane

The Billionaire’s Betrayal
Mika Lane
(Billionaire, #2)
Publication date: January 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I own the hottest boutique hotel in Manhattan. Only the rich and famous stay here. They’re the only ones who can afford it. And they’re the only ones we allow.

I’m busy, I’m successful, I’m rich, and I can seduce any woman I want. So when I agreed to another god-awful “bachelor auction” fundraiser for some freaking charity, I prepared myself for a date with some crazy chick who blathered on about her cat, and how many children she’d like to have one day.

Thanks, but no thanks.

So when my “date,” the winner of the latest auction of my bad boy self, emailed me to set up a rendezvous, I planned on having one drink and bailing. My assistant knew exactly when to call me so I could fake an emergency.

Only this date was different. Sure, she was beautiful—Manhattan is full of stunning women, mostly looking for rich husbands. But this one was the brilliant CEO of a tech firm. And she could have given two craps about me. Before I knew it, her half-empty martini sat on the bar wearing the slightest smudge of her red lipstick.

Was she beating me at my own game? I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.

Goodreads / Amazon

SNEAK PEEKS:

so what do you say to my offer you shouldn’t refuse?
what’s the offer?
a date. with me
that’s all you’ll tell me?
that’s all you need
well then. okay. i accept

I thought I’d been smitten before, but apparently, I’d fooled myself. This here, this was the real thing. Nara was a scrapper, not some spoiled Manhattanite like I was used to. She just slayed me. When she excused herself for the ladies’ room, all I could do was stare at the lipstick on the rim of her martini glass.
Get a grip, asshole.

But as soon as Brodie saw me, he extended his hand and caught mine in his large palm, bringing my fingers up to his lips in the most gallant freaking gesture I’d ever seen. I’m sure the women watching assumed I was just his flavor of the week. And maybe I was. But I could have fun for a week. I was a big girl.

Author Bio:

Writing has been a passion of Mika’s since a young age (her first book was "The Day I Ate the Milkyway"), but erotic romance is now what gives purpose to her days and nights. She lives in magical Northern California with her own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill. A devotee of the intelligent and beautiful, and lover of shiny things, she’s a yogi, hiker, traveler, thinker, observer, and book worm. She has been known to drink cheap champagne and has way too many shoes.

A National Reader's Choice Awards finalist, Mika always deliver a hot, sexy romp, often with imperfect characters, and a promised happily ever after (or at least happy for now).

She LOVES to hear from readers, and can be found at www.mikalane.com, and facebook.com/mikalaneauthor, when she's not dreaming up naughty tales to share.

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Spotlight: On the Edge by Dani Collins

On the Edge
Dani Collins
(Blue Spruce Lodge, #1)
Published by: Tule Publishing
Publication date: January 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

When Glory Cormer’s father introduces her to ‘their’ new business partner, she’s appalled. Viking-like Rolf Johansson exudes the same alpha-intimidation that jocks used to torment her through high school. After nursing her mother the last several years, she’s trying to break out of her shell and secretly pursue a writing career, but Rolf insists she go through with the rotten deal her father struck with his brother to renovate an old chalet.

Rolf envisions this mountain as a world-class resort for elite athletes and other jet setters. As a downhill champion and owner of a world-renowned sports equipment empire, he knows what it takes to get what he wants. Nothing will stop him, especially not a hotheaded wallflower who turns the ice in his veins to lava.

Bonus Story! This book contains Glory’s novella Blessed Winter, a no-room-at-the-inn Christmas romance.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT:

“I’m saying I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m not a sensitive man. I don’t want to hurt you again.” His fingers crept all the way around her upper arm, thumb stroking her skin as he gently clasped her in his warm grip.

“So don’t,” she suggested with a flash of irritation.

“Okay.” How did he make one word sound so dangerous? Like a dare. “You tell me what hurts more. Resisting or giving in?”

And now she was falling into an eclipse, staring into eyes that were golden and black at the same time, pulling her right out of herself and twisting her around so her body was in a sensual agony, tied up and yearning.

“Should we see?” he murmured, hands touching her with light sorcery, caressing her arm, caressing her throat, tilting up her chin.

She shouldn’t be this stupid, but she did hurt. All the time. With want…

His head lowered, slanted. His mouth hovered so she could feel the magnetic buzz of ions bouncing between their lips. When he nudged, made that first contact, her mouth stung, so hot and sensitized with anticipation she gasped.

He settled his lips over hers, hot and thorough. Confident. He kissed her in a way she had never been kissed before. This man held himself back with monumental discipline, she realized, because when he went for something, he went for it, and he was a force to be reckoned with. He claimed her with irresistible precision, mouth pressing hers open so the connection went from sweet suggestion to overwhelming passion in a single heartbeat.

She opened her mouth and let him in. Kissed him back with more offering than skill, not even hesitating. Compelled. If he was screwing with her—
Whatever she had consciously been thinking sizzled into nothing. She forgot how to form thoughts. All she knew was the feel of his lips against hers, smooth and firm, pulling just enough to make her follow him, then pressing to keep her sealed inside their world.

His hand slid through her hair to cup the back of her skull. His other arm went around her, broad hand slipping beneath her loose shirt to sit against the skin of her lower back, leaving a starfish of heat imprinted there. A shudder went through her, all of her muscles checking out and giving her body over to his strength. All she could do was lift her arms and cling around his neck, plastering herself to him while they devoured each other. Tongues came into play. His. Hers. She moaned, loving the swirling textures. Reveling in their blatant consumption of each other.

He was hard. She felt him against her abdomen and pulses of reaction hit her loins, making her want to grind against him. She wanted to do it already. Now.

As she realized how caught up she was, she yanked back, gasping.

He let her put some space between them, but kept his arm around her. His cheekbones were flushed above his beard, his eyes like liquid gold.

She hadn’t minded that beard, she realized, and wanted to stroke it with her fingers. She touched instead where the soft hairs had scraped against her chin, wondering how that rough-soft abrasion would feel against her stomach. Her thighs.

Her body reacted with a rush of heat and another pulse. She was very aware of the bed right there, while his eyes were halos of light around pupils the size of the moon.

“And that,” he said, accent thick. “Is why it is my business who spends time in this room.”


Author Bio:

Award-winning, USA Today Bestselling author Dani Collins thrives on giving readers emotional, compelling, heart-soaring romance with laughter and heat thrown in, just like real life. Mostly she writes contemporary romance for Harlequin Presents and Tule’s Montana Born, but her backlist of forty books also includes self-published erotic romance, romantic comedy, and even an epic medieval fantasy. When she’s not writing—just kidding, she’s always writing. She lives in Christina Lake, BC, Canada with her husband of thirty years who occasionally coaxes her out of her attic office to visit their grown children.

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