Spotlight: The Artisan Heart by Dean Mayes

"Hayden Luschcombe is a brilliant paediatrician living in Adelaide with his wife Bernadette, an ambitious event planner. His life consists of soul-wrenching days at the hospital and tedious evenings attending the lavish parties organised by Bernadette.

When an act of betrayal coincides with a traumatic confrontation, Hayden flees Adelaide, his life in ruins. His destination is Walhalla, nestled in Australia’s southern mountains, where he finds his childhood home falling apart. With nothing to return to, he stays, and begins to pick up the pieces of his life by fixing up the house his parents left behind.

A chance encounter with a precocious and deaf young girl introduces Hayden to Isabelle Sampi, a struggling artisan baker. While single-handedly raising her daughter, Genevieve, and trying to resurrect a bakery, Isabelle has no time for matters of the heart. Yet the presence of the handsome doctor challenges her resolve. Likewise, Hayden, protective of his own fractured heart, finds something in Isabelle that awakens dormant feelings of his own.

As their attraction grows, and the past threatens their chance at happiness, both Hayden and Isabelle will have to confront long-buried truths if they are ever to embrace a future."

Excerpt

Hayden lost himself in the day's work, though he sensed Magda hovering close by. She assisted him where she could and shielded him from any questioning from the other staff. He appreciated it and he appreciated her asking him only work-related questions. It was as though she knew that as long as Hayden was working, he was better off.

Ainsley Rafter walked past sometime mid-morning, but Hayden kept his distance. He overheard him step up to Magda in the fishbowl and ask, "What's up with Luschcombe?" As Hayden scribbled a note in a patient record, Rafter continued, unaware he had an audience. "The man has barely stopped. And I overheard some gossip suggesting he slept in one of the treatment rooms last night."

Magda didn’t bite. "Don't know. He came to work and he's working. As far as I'm concerned, he's on top of things. He hasn't allowed the waiting room to clog up, which is always refreshing."

Without waiting for Rafter to respond, Magda looked over his shoulder as a pair of ambulance officers wheeled in a gurney, on which sat a dishevelled woman cradling an inconsolable child. The woman pushed a long lock of multi-coloured hair from her face and wiped her running nose.

Dressed in pyjama bottoms, a pair of grubby slippers, and a tank top that exposed tattooed arms, the new arrival scanned her surroundings through swollen red eyes. A man accompanied her, dressed in ripped track pants and a tight blue singlet, his own tattooed hand resting on her shoulder. He, too, surveyed the department as they entered, appearing nervous and agitated.

Approaching the new arrivals, Magda noted the little girl's legs, groin, and lower abdomen had been wrapped in cling film. The skin underneath was an angry red and, in some places, had begun to blister. Nodding over her shoulder, she directed them towards a cubicle as she took paperwork from the ambulance officer.

"Thirteen-month-old female," the officer began. "Parents were preparing to bathe the child this morning and reported to us that they didn't check the temperature of the water before placing her in the bath." The officer paused as she wheeled the gurney into the cubicle. Magda stepped towards the anguished mother and encouraged her to relinquish her hold on her daughter. Magda lifted the child as the mother stood from the gurney and, curiously, stepped away into the embrace of her partner, rather than return to her daughter.

Magda set the child down on the hospital bed as she took in the magnitude of the little girl's injuries.

The ambulance officer continued, assisting Magda with the IV fluids they had commenced. "Both parents say the child was in the water for less than thirty seconds."

Magda shot an incredulous glance at the officer, ensuring it was out of view of the parents as she spotted Hayden approaching. She rose to her full height as he entered and the officer turned to acknowledge him.

Hayden moved to examine the child. Her eyes were closed and she was grizzling and whimpering.

"How much analgesia is on board?" he asked the ambulance officer.

"Initial dose of eighteen micrograms intranasal fentanyl given en route. We repeated the dose just prior to arrival."

Hayden surveyed the scalded and blistering legs, leaning over to see around their circumference. He noted several blisters had already popped behind her knees. The groin was also afflicted; the child's vulva had begun to swell, and the skin had blistered and broken underneath the cling film. Hayden depressed his thumb to an unaffected area on the child's hip. He attempted to rotate her body so he could see behind, but the child shook and he retracted his hand.

Hayden turned towards the parents. "What time did this happen?"

The mother glanced at her partner. "Th-this morning. About an hour ago."

"And what was the temperature of the water?"

Again, the mother cast a nervous glance at her partner, who was now shifting from foot to foot. His jaw was set, he was grinding his teeth, and he glared at Hayden.

"I-I thought it was all right," the woman responded. "I checked it before I put her in."

Hayden glanced sideways at the ambulance officer.

Turning back to the child, Hayden continued his scan upwards, across the child's abdomen. When he arrived at the level of the navel, he noted a sudden line of demarcation where the scalding ended. The skin above was completely unaffected. Hayden's jaw locked. As he lifted her arms above her head, he took one of her small hands in his and examined a random pattern of blisters, indicative of splash scalds.

"And where was the father at the time of the accident?" Hayden asked.

When he did not receive a reply, he turned towards the parents. The father's expression was taut. His right fist was opening and closing, even as his partner tried to clasp his hand. He shrugged belligerently. "Wasn't there," he said. "Was out at the shops."

Hayden shot a look at the ambulance officer, and this time, she raised a finger and scratched the bridge of her nose.

The universal sign for I call bullshit.

"I’ll take it from here." Hayden dismissed Magda and the ambulance officer with a nod, and after they’d left he turned to face the parents.

"The area of skin affected by the scalding–her legs, her groin, and abdomen–and the severity of the blistering, suggest she was in the water for longer than thirty seconds. There are also marks on both arms indicative of some sort of struggle. And this–" His hand hovered over the child's belly. "This line of demarcation, between the affected skin and the unaffected skin. It suggests these injuries weren't acci–"

"What the fuck are you getting at?" the father spat.

The mother grabbed his arm as he steeled himself like a predator, ready to pounce, and glowered at Hayden.

Hayden snatched up the ambulance report from the bench and scanned the document, tracing along with his finger as he read. "You said you weren't at the house when the accident happened."

“Yeah–so?"

"The ambulance officer reported you were outside in the garden and came into the house as soon as your wife shouted for help."

Incredibly, the father allowed a slick grin to cross his lips. "Like I said, mate, what are you getting at?"

Hayden turned towards the mother. "Why didn't you test the temperature of the water before you lowered your child into the bath?"

"I-I did test the water," she implored.

Without warning, the father erupted, barrelling forward and swinging his arms. Hayden reacted, ducking to avoid the blow, but the man's fist connected with his cheek, and his neck snapped back.

Clutching the side of the gurney, the child's father steadied himself, preparing to attack again. Hayden fought to clear his head and he cradled his chin. His jaw throbbed.

The father launched again, whirling his fists anew. Hayden tried to anticipate the punches but suffered several blows. Bringing his own arms up, Hayden lurched forward, his hands latching onto the man's neck. The mother screamed. The man's eyes bulged in shock and his arms fell to his sides.

The curtain of the cubicle was yanked aside and Magda shifted into the cubicle behind Hayden. "Code Black! Code Black!" she shouted. The two men were now wheeling in a circle.

"Security!" screamed one of the other nurses.

"You bastard!" the father spat as he flailed his arms.

Hayden locked his elbows to keep him from retaliating. He shoved the man hard against the rear wall. The man's head snapped back, hitting an oxygen regulator, and he roared.

"Remove the child!" Hayden croaked.

Magda complied, holding the little girl as she backed away from the two men.

Hayden's desperation fluxed as he tightened his grip on the man's throat. And then it was no longer desperation driving him. Glaring into the man's reddening features, Hayden felt anger blossom.

Anger. Rage.

He relished it.

The man's arm jerked forth and went rigid as he struck Hayden repeatedly. His strangled cries reached Hayden's ears but he blocked them out. One of the man's legs came up, his knee searching for Hayden's groin, but Hayden anticipated the move and shifted to one side.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Hayden responded in kind. He thrust his own leg up and it struck home. The man cried out, and all at once, the fight went out of him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.

But Hayden refused to back down. He maintained his grip, not wanting to let go, baring his teeth with the effort. He was determined to punish him.

Then, he felt arms and hands on him, yanking him backwards. His fingers retracted and the man dropped like a stone.

Horror flooded him, colliding head-on with his anger. He barely registered the security guards dragging him away. The room began to spin and sound became a series of loud echoes and disjointed noise.

Rafter marched into the cubicle. "What the hell is going on here?!" he shouted, blinking at Hayden in the arms of the guards, while the father flailed like an overturned beetle on the floor.

More guards arrived while nurses frantically pulled the curtains of the other cubicles across to block the spectacle.

The director’s look shot from the father to Hayden to Magda, who was still holding the child. He was apoplectic. Jerking a thumb up, he glared at the guard. "Get him out of here!"

He then jabbed a finger at the man on the floor. "Him, too! And call in the police. And get Child Protection down here, now! Jesus Christ!"

The guard holding Hayden eased him back and he submitted without protest. His awareness shattered. He did not notice the shocked stares of the people in the department–the nurses and doctors, children and parents, and other nameless faces, all of whom stood stunned as he and the guard passed by.

Shame crashed over him like a tidal wave.

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About the Author

When he emerged in 2010, Adelaide based Intensive Care Nurse and author Dean Mayes, had almost given up on the prospect of ever being published. by then in his 30's with several abortive writing attempts under his belt, Dean believed he had missed his opportunity. But Dean had an idea for one last story he wanted to tell and, rather than allow it to wither and die in his imagination, he decided to blog it instead.

Quite unexpectedly, Dean's blog took off and after a chance encounter with Canadian based publisher Central Avenue in mid 2009, Dean's dream like tale about a young man who discovers he has taken on the memories and dreams of a complete stranger, became his first novel. Dean was signed to an initial two year contract and in 2010 "The Hambledown Dream" was published. The novel has since gone on to receive global attention and critical acclaim.

Dean set about penning a follow up novel that was not merely a repeat performance and in 2012 "Gifts of the Peramangk" a powerful Australian family saga. Chronicling a dysfunctional Aboriginal family in the struggle streets of Adelaide's suburban fringe, "Gifts of the Peramangk" has been described as significant literary achievement. In October 2013, it was nominated as a finalist in the prestigious EPIC Awards for contemporary fiction.

Dean's third feature length novel, a psychological thriller set in Melbourne called "The Recipient", showcased his ability to cross genres and deliver a taut and gripping tome about a heart transplant patient who discovers her organ donor was a murder victim - and that the murder remains unsolved.

Dean is currently editing his fourth novel, a return to his romantic roots, called "The Artisan Heart", which is scheduled for a September, 2018 release.

He lives in Adelaide, Australia with his partner Emily, their two children Xavier and Lucy. An Intensive Care Nurse with over 15 years of clinical experience in adult, paediatric and neonatal medicine, he can often be found lying on a hospital gurney at 3 in the morning with a notebook in hand, madly scribbling ideas while on his break.

Dean is represented by Michelle Halket and is published by Central Avenue Publishing of Vancouver, Canada.

Read an excerpt from Chasing the Wind by C.C. Humphreys

Smuggler. Smoker. Aviatrix. Thief. The dynamic Roxy Loewen is all these things and more, in this riveting and gorgeous historical fiction novel for readers of Paula McLain, Roberta Rich, Kate Morton and Jacqueline Winspear.

You should never fall in love with a flyer. You should only fall in love with flight.

That’s what Roxy Loewen always thought, until she falls for fellow pilot Jocco Zomack as they run guns into Ethiopia. Jocco may be a godless commie, but his father is a leading art dealer and he’s found the original of Bruegel’s famous painting, the Fall of Icarus. The trouble is, it’s in Spain, a country slipping fast into civil war. The money’s better than good–if Roxy can just get the painting to Berlin and back out again before Reichsmarshall Hermann Göring and his Nazi pals get their hands on it . . .

But this is 1936, and Hitler’s Olympics are in full swing. Not only that, but Göring has teamed up with Roxy’s greatest enemy: Sydney Munroe, an American billionaire responsible for the death of her beloved dad seven years before. When the Nazis steal the painting, Roxy and Jocco decide that they are just going to have to steal it back.

What happens when Icarus flies too close to the sun? Roxy is going to find out. From African skies to a cellar in Madrid, from the shadow cast by the swastika to the world above the clouds on the Hindenburg’s last voyage, in the end Roxy will have just two choices left–but only one bullet.

Excerpt

She woke near dawn to the sound of waves and the taste of salt. Her sweat, his, the ocean they’d swum in—the only bath she was going to get.

He was sitting naked on the end of the camp bed, framed against the entrance of the tent. He’d thrown open the mosquito netting and was smoking one of his roll-up cigarettes, holding it in that way of his, his chin resting on his hand, his elbow on his knees, so the smoke would curl up into a trail and he could look at the world through narrowed, Meissen-blue eyes. She studied his back, her eyes going where her fingers had in the dark, tracing the raised lines of his scars, one map of his life. She’d wondered at it the first time they’d made love: how a twenty-six-year-old floppy-haired German had gotten himself into so much trouble. He’d laughed the scars off. “Skiing,” he’d said. “I fell in a race.” An angry cat. But something would flash through his eyes as he told the lies, something haunted, so she knew different; but she didn’t probe. After all, were he to answer all her questions truthfully, she just might have to answer his.

“Roll me one.”

He turned. “Good morning, Fräulein. Did you sleep well?” He was always formal first thing. He was “an inquiry after your health” kind of guy. A “hold your chair” guy. For all that he was a goddamn godless Commie, he’d gone to the best schools that big money could buy. “Breakfast first? There’s mangosteen. I saved a custard apple.”

“Tobacco,” she growled. “Now.”

He nipped the stub of the cigarette and put it in the tin with the dozen others—a last smoke if all else failed. He slipped in beside her on the narrow metal-frame bed, reached for his fixings and worked his effortless magic. Lit the result and held it between her lips so she didn’t even have to move, just take a deep, life-sustaining drag. “Ah!” She breathed smoke out on her sigh. The day had begun and she was ready to think.

And remember. “How’s my bird?”

She knew he’d left her after they’d made love. He was also one of those guys: get up straightaway and check that all was well. Primal, she’d teased him once. As if the moment right after lovemaking was when a man was at his most vulnerable, with beasts about, waiting for the opportunity to attack. In Africa, maybe not too far-fetched an idea.

“Prop is bent. The boys have been hammering it out for the last two hours—they just finished. I’m surprised they didn’t wake you.”

“I’ve barely slept in a week. I could sleep through a ground assault.” She took the cigarette from his mouth, inhaled deeply. “Engine good? It cut out as I was flying in.”

“I heard.” He shook his head. “Engine works fine. But you have to remember to put gas in it.” He looked down at her. “You only just made it, kid.”

“Kid!” She snorted. He was just the one year older. He only called her “kid” because he was near a foot taller. “You got any?”

“In my bird. Half a tank. I’ll give you half of that.”

“Obliged. Where we going?”

“I’m going to Addis.”

“What? We can still get in?” She sat up and put her bare back to the earth wall. “Then I’m coming too. Got three hundred rifles in the hold.”

“Three hundred?” He whistled. “No wonder you looked so heavy. I thought it was just your flying.” When she punched his arm, he laughed, and took the cigarette. “But it’s too late for your guns. War’s over.”

“Hell it is!”

“Over.” His eyes narrowed as he inhaled. “Fascism has triumphed. The Italians have won. Emperor Haile Selassie goes into exile tomorrow.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Krueger. Came through yesterday, just before the Italians bombed the ’drome. Everyone left. Aside from you and me.”

“Well, shit.”

“I know—you won’t get paid.” He said it as a statement, not a challenge. They’d had that fight too many times. When they first met, in that bar in Alexandria where mercenary flyers were gathering like kites over a new corpse called Abyssinia. Some, like Jocco, were going down for a cause. Most, like Roxy, were headed for the money. Big money, commensurate to the risk, flying guns to the overmatched Ethiopians.

“The first stand against the Fascists,” he’d called it.

“Causes are for suckers,” she’d mocked.

“Dollars are for exploiters,” he’d replied.

The argument had continued whenever they met—Addis Ababa, Khartoum, Djibouti. She’d slapped him in Nairobi. He’d kissed the slapping hand. They’d slept together for the first time that night.

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About the Author

Chris (C.C.) Humphreys was born in Toronto, lived till he was seven in Los Angeles, then grew up in the UK. All four grandparents were actors, and since his father was an actor as well, it was inevitable he would follow the bloodline.

Chris has performed on stages from London’s West End to Hollywood in roles including Hamlet, Caleb the gladiator in NBC’s AD-Anno Domini’, Clive Parnell in ‘Coronation Street’, PC Richard Turnham in ‘The Bill’, the Immortal Graham Ashe in ‘Highlander’, Jack Absolute in ‘The Rivals’ (This performance led to him writing the Jack Absolute novels – and they say acting doesn’t pay!). Bizarrely, he was also the voice of Salem the cat in ‘Sabrina the Teenage Witch’.

A playwright, fight choreographer and novelist, he has written eleven adult novels including ‘The French Executioner’, runner up for the CWA Steel Dagger for Thrillers; ‘The Jack Absolute Trilogy’; ‘A Place Called Armageddon’; ‘Shakespeare’s Rebel’ and the international bestseller, ‘Vlad – The Last Confession’.

He also writes for young adults, with a trilogy called The Runestone Saga and ‘The Hunt of the Unicorn’. The sequel, ‘The Hunt of the Dragon’, was published Fall 2016.

His recent novel ‘Plague’ won Canada’s Arthur Ellis Award for Best Crime Novel in 2015. The sequel, ‘Fire’ is a thriller set during the Great Fire, published Summer 2016. Both novels spent five weeks in the top ten on 2016’s Globe and Mail and Toronto Star Bestseller lists.

His new novel is ‘Chasing the Wind’ about 1930’s aviatrix – and thief! – Roxy Loewen, will be published in Canada and the USA in June 2018.

Several of his novels are available as Audiobooks – read by himself! Find him here at Audible.

He is translated into thirteen languages. In 2015 he earned his Masters in Fine Arts (Creative Writing) from the University of British Columbia.

Chris now lives on Salt Spring Island, BC, Canada, with his wife, son and cat, Dickon (who keeps making it into his books!).

For more information, please visit C.C. Humphrey’s website. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

Chasing the Wind

Spotlight: If You Wrong Us by Dawn Klehr

If You Wrong Us
Dawn Klehr
(Anniversary Edition)
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

A dark and disturbing thriller that, “reads like Gone Girl through a teen lens.” – Kirkus Reviews

Becca and Johnny become entangled after a car crash steals the lives of two people they love. Officially, the crash is an accident. But Becca and Johnny are convinced: someone did this.

As they plot revenge against the person responsible, a bond–intense, unyielding, and manic–takes hold of them. And in an unexpected turn of events, they fall for each other.

Or so they think.

In an upside-down world where decay is beautiful and love and hate become one, Becca and Johnny find themselves grappling with reality. Nothing is exactly what it seems, including what they’ve come to believe about the crash. Question is: will they learn the truth before it’s too late?

No. The question is: when they learn the truth, will they care?

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Author Bio:

Dawn Klehr is the author of the young adult thrillers: The Cutting Room Floor and If You Wrong Us.

She began her career in TV news and though she’s been on both sides of the camera, she prefers to lurk behind the lens. Mostly, she loves to get lost in stories –in film, the theater, or on the page – and is a sucker for both the sinister and the sappy. She’s currently channeling her dark side as she works on her next book.

Dawn lives in the Twin Cities with her funny husband, adorable son, and naughty dog.

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Read an excerpt from Just Pretend by J.P. Nicholas

When yet another publisher rejects Hannah’s most recent book due to poor love scenes, she concocts a fail-proof plan to increase her creativity… spine-tingling, no strings attached sex. How can she write about love and lust if she's never really felt it? As the only man in her life she truly trusts, Logan is the perfect one to help her find this new side of herself—and stand in as her pretend boyfriend at an upcoming reunion.

For Logan, a Broadway actor by trade and passion, Hannah’s proposal is both outrageous and intriguing—especially since he's fought for nineteen years of friendship to avoid thinking of her in a physical way. Against all reason, Logan takes the bait and agrees… then ups the ante by turning their pretend relationship into a pretend engagement in front of her entire family.

Now, they just have to navigate their new situation while playing house… and somehow remember this is all Just Pretend…

Excerpt

"Lesson one: if it feels good…tell me," I whisper into the crook of her neck, letting my lips linger over the spot I know she's going to love. I bite down on her tender flesh, drawing a high-pitched squeal from her; it lingers in the air above us.

"Logan?"

I answer her through clenched teeth. "Yeah?"

"That. Feels. Good."

Those three words were all it took to break the ice and help me unleash my inner beast. I release my grip on her neck and put my lips up to hers.

Our mouths crash together, tongues twisting and wrestling with passion. I send a trail of kisses down the column of her throat and reach around her to unzip the back of her dress. She tugs at the hem of my shirt. Taking the hint, I grab it, fling it over my head, and onto the floor.

I throw her onto the bed, and her dress falls to the floor during the transfer. I lean over her, our bodies close, but not touching. With a swipe of my thumb, I unhook her bra, causing her perky breasts to spring into place.

"Fuck," I husk out.

I take her right breast in my mouth and massage the raspberry nipple with my tongue. She starts grinding her pelvis against my erection. Her breaths grow shallow as I tweak her left nipple between my fingers. She moans from the pleasure. I pick my head up and let my gaze find hers.

I laugh.

"You like that?"

She nods. "Don't stop," she orders through her panting.

I slide my finger under her panties. I can feel her raw heat radiating off her body. Without warning, I plunge my finger into her pussy. She's dripping wet. Fuck.

Then I take off her panties and bring my head down to her most sensitive region. I inhale deeply, wanting to memorize her scent. She smells so good.

Our eyes lock, causing me to stop dead in my tracks. "Are you sure this is what you want, Han?"

"Oh, God, yes," she hollers.

Unable to satisfy my insatiable hunger, I bring my mouth to her pussy, exploring every fold. She seems to like it because she places her hand on the back of my head and pushes me deeper into her. God, she tastes so fucking sweet. Better than I could have ever imagined. I curve the tip of my tongue upward as I massage her clit aggressively with my forefinger. Her breaths grow shorter and shorter, alerting me that she is close. I don't let up; this is what she needs, and it's what I fucking want. Her legs writhe out of control, and I love feeling her go wild under my tongue. She howls as her orgasm rips through her.

I lick her sweet orgasm off my lips.

She stares at me with dazed eyes as she drops her voice to a sexy whisper. "That's fucking hot."

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About J.P. Nicolas

J.P. Nicholas has the great misfortune to be A Male Romance Writer. Turns out, men are also hopeless romantics, given half the chance, and Nicholas’ fascination with love began long before he could write. His parents—high school sweethearts who are still mad for each other—left him enamored with the idea of true love, and its ability to transform and redeem even the most jaded soul. Nicholas lives to capture this magic, lust, and passion on the page; his characters known for their sizzling chemistry and chest-squeezing plot lines. 

When J.P. Nicholas isn’t tapping away at his laptop, he can be found in his home state of Florida, binge-watching This Is Us with his girlfriend, or devouring Italian food with his family. His latest novel, Just Pretend, is a friends-to-lovers drama and the first in his new Sandy Heights series, to be released in June.

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Read an excerpt from Finding Wicked by Kathryn L. James

Brooke Sheridan has the weight of the world on her shoulders—her mother’s terminal illness, financial woes. When she’s offered a promotion as Executive Assistant to the cocky arrogant and sexy Garrett Mitchell, CEO, she accepts without second thought.

Together on a business trip, Garrett an avid pilot must make an emergency crash landing on a deserted island. With no satellite service, no phone signal, or any means of rescue on the horizon, they are forced to find ways of survival. But that’s not all they find—sizzling chemistry, undeniable attraction, and HOT passionate sex explode.

But amidst paradise, there are also secrets that threaten to tear them apart.

Excerpt

“Why do I make you nervous?”

Because the moment we’re rescued, it’ll be the end of us.

Because you’ve opened my eyes and I don’t want to close them.

I’m scared because this is starting to feel like something more than sex.

“Talk to me, Brooke. What makes you so nervous? When you’re in my arms, there’s nothing nervous about you.”

“Talking is overrated and too personal.” I turned away from him, staring across the dusky sea.

“Not as personal as me buried deep inside you.”

A blush crept into my cheeks. “That wasn’t personal. That was…what did you call it? Dirty fucking?”

“Make no mistake, I haven’t begun to dirty fuck you yet.”

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About the Author

Kathryn James lives in a southern small town with her husband and a very sweet and spoiled poodle named Macy. Being a hopeless romantic, she loves to read and write about bad-boy sexy alpha males and strong heroines. The beach is one of her favorite places to hangout, relax, and write. She debuted her first novel, Crazy Beautiful Lies and released a short Crazy Beautiful Kiss which was published in A Story of a Kiss anthology. She plans to release it again as a novella by the end of summer.   

For information about Kathryn L. James or to stay updated on upcoming releases, please drop by:

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Audio Spotlight: Just an Ilusion - The B Side by D. Kelly

Three life-altering months …

That’s how long it’s been since Amelia Greyson joined the Just an Illusion Tour with Bastards and Dangerous. She’s made new friends, embraced her past, and even found love.  

Back on the road …

Following a tragic situation, Amelia is determined to hit the road, put her life in order, and finish the book she was hired to write. Mel’s not the only one affected by what happened; the men of BAD are all trying to move forward, not wanting the past to ruin the remainder of their farewell tour.

Brother vs Brother …

Tensions are high on the Weston brothers’ bus. As each brother settles into their role in Amelia’s life, secrets threaten to rip their relationship to shreds. Can Noah and Sawyer find a way to save the brotherly bond they share? Or will the woman of their dreams end up tearing them apart for good?  

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About the Author

D. Kelly, author of The Acceptance Series, The Illusion Series, and standalone companion novels Chasing Cassidy and Sharing Rylee, was born and raised in Southern California. She’s a wife, mom, dog lover, taxi, problem fixer, and extreme multi-tasker. She married her high school sweetheart and is her kids’ biggest fan.

Kelly has been writing since she was young and took joy in spinning stories to her childhood friends. Margaritas and sarcasm make her smile, she loves the beach but hates the sand, and she believes Starbucks makes any day better.

A contemporary romance writer, D. Kelly’s stories revolve around friendship and the bond it creates, strengthening the love of the people who share it.

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