March 04, 2020

Spotlight: A Man's Late Night Thoughts by J. Richman

March 04, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS by J. Richman is a creative and life-affirming collection of ponderings that expose the deep thoughts and feelings of a man who has lived a life full of diverse experiences and challenges. This uniquely constructed compilation of more than 300 reflections focuses on several areas of living, including intimate relationships and acceptance of human frailty, as well as the author’s internal conflicts.

A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS homes in on the complications inherent in intimate relationships from the opening pages of the book: “Problems accrue when we confuse how a woman looks with who she is.” Richman brings the perspective of a mature man to the lessons on love presented in the book, including, “Exploitation of another depreciates both parties,” and “The reason we fall in love with flawed people is that that’s the only kind of people there are.”

In addition to offering a brief study of intimate relationships, A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS probes human frailty and offers readers guidance in accepting this fact. “We must learn to be strong enough to be gentle,” brings into focus the need to deliberately work at treating people well. The author also encourages readers to show self-compassion when dealing with their own baggage: “Sometimes it’s difficult to see beyond the wreckage of our lives, but we must! Take heart! We are more than our mistakes.”

In A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS, Richman further challenges readers to take the reins of their lives when he says, “Name those things that you would do if you had no fear then do something about it.” He offers words of caution regarding political rhetoric: “Beware of politicians who whip up emotions to make us suspicious of others unlike us.” And rounds the book out by sharing his internal conflicts: “The world has bent me more than I have bent it”; “too often my logical mind and my emotional mind are hostile enemies”; “every time I look in the mirror, I expect to see a younger man.”

A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS began as a series of notes that Richman wrote to himself. “I found that if I do not write out my true, and often painful, thoughts and feelings, I do not deal with them.” Richman wishes a book like this one had been available when he was a boy because the knowledge enclosed could have assisted him in navigating his teenage and young adult years. He hopes A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS will assure men that they are not alone in their quiet musings. For women, Richman believes the book will provide a window into men’s unexpressed emotions.

Excerpt

“introspection requires us to be an interested spectator of our own life.” …can this me be a better me…what happens when unimportant me wants to be important me...can anyone understand us and love us anyway…why must we clutch desperately to or fantasy…what happens when we need for from life than is available...do you frolic and run with the deer in deer hunting season?...not to worry it’s all in the grand plan that you can change anytime.”

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About the Author

J. Richman is the author of A MAN’S LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS, a collection of thoughts about life, relationships, and humanity.

Richman’s work history includes his service as an undercover intelligence officer in the US Air Force; later, he established a thriving business in real estate investment. For 16 years, Richman owned and operated Modify My Mortgage, a company that worked with homeowners to prevent foreclosures. His business success allowed Richman the time to pursue his passions, which included serving as the president of Nova, a workshop that provided work and life skills training for clients with disabilities; cofounding A Way Across, a drop-in center for teenagers with emotional and substance abuse problems; and fundraising for several more public service groups.

Richman enjoys writing and editing at night after allowing his ideas to blossom and expand during the day. The author is married with three sons and five grandsons.

Visit his website at http://www.amanslatenightthoughts.com/.

March 03, 2020

Spotlight: Wild, Wild Rake by Janna MacGregor

March 03, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Her first marriage was an epic fail.

Lady Avalon Warwyk never did love her husband. Arrogant, selfish, and cruel, it’s a blessing when she’s widowed and left to raise her son all by herself. Finally, Avalon can live freely and do the work she loves: helping fallen women become businesswomen. She’s lived these past ten years with no desire to remarry―that is, until Mr. Devan Farris comes to town.

Can he convince her to take another chance at happily ever after?

Devan Farris―charming vicar, reputed rake, and the brother of Avalon’s son’s guardian―is reluctantly sent to town to keep tabs on Avalon and her son. Devan wishes he didn’t have to meddle in her affairs; he’s not one to trod on a woman’s independent nature and keen sense of convictions. But she’ll have nothing to do with vicar with a wild reputation―even though he’s never given his heart and body to another. If only he could find a way to show Avalon who he really is on the inside―a good, true soul looking for its other half. But how can prove that he wants to love and care for her…until death do they part?

Excerpt

Book 6 in The Cavensham Heiresses Series by Janna MacGregor

The new Thistledown vicar, Devan Farris, nodded once, and Lady Avalon Warwyk allowed herself to relax for the first time this morning.

It was done. He’d agreed to leave their village.

“How could I refuse?” Mr. Farris smiled.

Such a simple act emphasized his angular cheekbones and the perfect set of those wide green eyes. Her sister Sophia had declared him handsome. Unfortunately, Avalon completely agreed.

“Excellent. Until you’re reassigned in the church, I’ll allow you to tutor my son. That’ll add additional monies to your savings.” Avalon relaxed slightly and smiled. “I’m so happy that we’ve come to a mutually beneficial resolution.”

“I thought it was for the benefit of the village.” He tilted his head slightly.

“Of course,” she said hastily. “That’s what I meant.”

“My lady,” His voice deepened. “I am truly sorry, but I must decline your generous offer.”

Shaking her head slightly, Avalon must not have heard him correctly. He couldn’t be turning her down. She was offering him the world. Or at least, a nice salary that not many in the church would ever hope to earn. “You mean the tutoring? If you’re not interested, I understand.”

“That’s not it,” he said.

“You mean you must ask permission from the bishop?”

He shook his head with a devilish grin.

“Then you must seek the Earl of Larkton’s permission?”

A deep rumble started in his chest. At first, she thought it a growl, then she realized for what it was. He was laughing. Goosebumps broke out across her arms. Whether it was from the cold or the sudden onset of disquiet, she couldn’t tell. She hadn’t said a single word that could be construed as funny.

Finally, he wiped his hands down his face. His fingers were uncommonly long, and his hands were huge. He leveled the most mesmerizing gaze her way.

“No. My brother always looks out for my best interests as family should.” His voice was so low, it practically sounded like he was humming in a deep baritone. “I refuse because it was you, Lady Warlock, who asked.”

She tightened her stomach at the hateful name. “I know all about you, your hunt for an heiress, and your tomcat ways.” She threw the proverbial gauntlet down and waited for him to accept the challenge. In no certain terms, would she allow him to stay.

“My reputation precedes me, I see.”

“One well deserved, I have no doubt.” She straightened in her seat. It was time to strike the fatal blow. “Surely, you’ve seen the articles in The Midnight Cryer.”

He nodded with a sly grin that reminded her of a mouser out for a midnight stroll, one on the hunt for perverse pleasure—like toying with their prey before they killed it.

She’d not let him succeed.

“I’m particularly fond of the description ‘a debauched lecher, who has mastered carousing.’ But between you and me” –he bent forward as if divulging a secret—“it may be gauche, but I’ve kept all the ones that featured me. I do enjoy reading about my escapades.”

“Like the time you were caught swimming in Lord Peters’ fountain with Lady Peters and Mrs. Hemsley completely naked?”

“Someone had to save them from drowning. As I recall, I was still wearing clothes,” he said. “I can’t vouch for the ladies’ attire.”

“Oh really?” She stared in disbelief. “What about you stealing a kiss from the Duchess of Southart in front of her duke?”

“There was mistletoe. Come now, my lady, you wouldn’t deny a man a simple holiday merriment?”

His expression reminded her of a guilty child feigning innocence.

“The article that said I was ‘sniffing’ after the Countess of Eanruig’s hand is incorrect.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned as if pleased with himself. “She was sniffing after me.”

Unbelievably, she found herself leaning forward to hear his words, hungry for his gossip. She exhaled silently. Best to get ahold of herself before she lost her nerve and her advantage.

“Sir, we don’t need your stench of scandal in Thistledown. You’re a wild rake.”

“As in untamed?” He arched one brow.

“Uncouth,” she proclaimed.

The most devilish half-grin graced his lips.

“And wicked,” she huffed while looking her down her nose, but really it was more looking up as he was so tall.

“Birds of a feather…” he murmured.

“Careful, Vicar. You’re showing how provincial you really are.”

“I consider it ‘pastoral,’” His deep voice softened as if charming the devil’s minions.

“You and your reputation are not welcome in our community.” There. She’d said it. The words to drive him away. She didn’t want to insult him, but sometimes it was best to go for the jugular as they say. He didn’t need to know that she was the only one in Thistledown who subscribed to The Midnight Cryer. Nor did he need to know that she watched for articles about him as fervently as he did.

“How ironic? You do realize that you’re welcoming me by gracing me with your presence. Speaking of reputations, what does that say about you?” He tapped the indentation in the middle of his perfect chin with one, long masculine finger. “I think it suggests you’re interested in me.” He had the audacity to laugh.

“I’m interested in getting you to leave.” The clipped words echoed around the room.

“You haven’t lost any of your rudimentary charm, Lady Warlock. You’ll just have to try harder.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m staying. Now, when shall I meet your son?”

To find out more, visit https://www.jannamacgregor.com/books/the-cavensham-heiresses/wild-wild-rake/

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About the Author

Janna MacGregor was born and raised in the bootheel of Missouri. She credits her darling mom for introducing her to the happily-ever-after world of romance novels. Janna writes stories where compelling and powerful heroines meet and fall in love with their equally matched heroes. She is the mother of triplets and lives in Kansas City with her very own dashing rogue, and two smug, but not surprisingly, perfect pugs.

March 03, 2020

Spotlight: No Truth Left To Tell by Michael McAuliffe

March 03, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

It is 1994 in Lynwood, Louisiana, and flaming crosses light up the night and terrorize the southern town. The resurgent Klan wants a new race war, and the Klansmen will start it here. For Nettie Wynn, a victim of the cross burnings and lifelong resident of the town’s segregated neighborhood, the hate crimes summon frightful memories of her youth, when she witnessed white townspeople lynch a black man.

When federal civil rights prosecutor Adrien Rush arrives from DC to investigate the crimes with Lee Mercer, a seasoned local FBI special agent, their partnership is tested as they clash over how far to go to catch the racists before the violence escalates. Rush’s role in the case becomes even more complicated after he falls for Nicole DuBose, a successful New York City journalist who returns to Lynwood to care for her grandmother, Nettie.

When crucial evidence becomes compromised—threatening to upend what should be a celebrated conviction—the lines between right and wrong, black and white, collide with deadly consequences.

A smart legal thriller inspired by real events, including McAuliffe's time in Louisiana investigating violent extremists and corrupt cops, No Truth Left to Tell offers the ultimate insider's take on chasing violent racists in the Deep South.

Excerpt

Prologue

July 1920Lynwood, Louisiana

Nettie glided along the sidewalk in her best dress, her mother’s creation that would soon be too small. That Saturday, however, the colorful outfit still fit and perfectly complemented her wide smile and earnest stride. The dress was spring blue with flower patterns bursting open into full blossoms, quite like Nettie herself.

She stayed out of the way of the white pedestrians inspecting her with what appeared to be a mixture of curiosity and irritation. “What’s that one doin’ here?” one woman asked as she passed by. So Nettie hugged the buildings as she moved, trying to disappear against the facades. There was something big going on in the square, but Nettie couldn’t see over or through the gathering, since she was just seven years old.

She had pleaded with her parents to go with her father from their home in Mooretown, Lynwood’s section for blacks, to a nearby town while he delivered a meal to a close friend who was gravely ill. At the last minute, Nettie’s mother had wanted one more item added to the delivery from a store on Lynwood’s downtown square—an establishment that served them only from the back door off an alley. Nettie was supposed to wait in the car, but despite her father’s admonishments, the strange and festive noises drew her out into the nearby crowd where she was protected only by her look of youthful wonder.

Lynwood’s civic core was comprised of an expanse of lawn with a massive oak reigning over the surroundings. Four perpendicular streets framed the lawn, and they had been closed for several hours so people could mingle without regard to sputtering cars. The attendees had obliged the gesture by swarming the entire area by midmorning. The day’s activities appeared to originate across the street nearer the tree, allowing the spectators along the periphery to wander about with more freedom. From where Nettie was she could see the crown of the tree, and she moved in that direction as if pulled by some invisible force.

The day was hot and humid. High clouds had gathered through the morning and darkened the midday sky, but the music played on and people chatted in small groups as if they were at an annual parish fair.

After several minutes of distant rumbling a sprinkle started, and it soon developed into cascading water pouring from invisible pots in the sky. The drenching dispersed the crowd into stores and under awnings. Deserted chairs and soda bottles lay across the lawn.

The scattering of the masses created large openings around the square. What was an impenetrable wall of people became a flat, open field of vision. The oak, of course, remained right where it had begun decades before as a sapling.

Nettie couldn’t run into any of the stores like the others caught out in the street during the rainstorm. So, like the oak, she remained standing, although now she had a clear view of the square. Her dress—dripping and heavy with water—would have distracted her in any other setting, but unanswered curiosity kept her searching the square for clues about the day’s festivities.

The oak tree had long, thick branches, like the heavy arms of a giant. A braided rope was slung over one of these arms, out about ten feet from the trunk. The rope was wrapped once about the branch and secured to a large stake in the ground. The other end of the rope was fashioned into a noose, and suspended from it was the still body of a black man. The man’s neck was grotesquely angled, and the feet were bare. His hands were bound behind his back.

Nettie leaned forward like she was about to rush toward the oak. But she neither ran away nor went to it. She stared up at what had been until moments before a living, breathing person. She was frozen in place and time—alone in the moment when her world changed forever.

Her father came running from behind and snatched her up with such force that the dress ripped along a side seam. He covered her with his protective embrace and spirited her away to the car that waited in the alley. They headed straight home using back streets and little-known shortcuts, the car not speeding despite the urgency of the situation. The trip to deliver the meal basket was abandoned as her father kept swearing that he’d never go to the square again.

Nettie didn’t look outside the car. She kept her head down and stared at one of the dress’s printed blossoms, the flower part of the pattern ending at the hemline to reveal her trembling knees.

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About the Author

Michael McAuliffe has been a practicing lawyer for thirty years. He was a federal prosecutor serving both as a supervisory assistant US attorney in the Southern District of Florida and a trial attorney in the Criminal Section of the Civil Rights Division at the Department of Justice in Washington, DC.
In 2008, Michael was elected and served as the state attorney for Palm Beach County, leading an office of approximately 125 prosecutors. He was known for leading the ethics reform movement in county that resulted in the creation of a permanent inspector general, an ethics commission, and new ethics code.

He also has been a partner at a major law firm, a global company general counsel, a senior lecturing fellow at Duke University's School of Law, and an adjunct professor at William & Mary's School of Law. Early in his career, Mr. McAuliffe was a Civic Education Project fellow and visiting professor of law in the Czech Republic.

Aside from the law, Mr. McAuliffe is an alpine mountaineer, having climbed and reached the summits of Aconcagua, Denali, Kilimanjaro (with his daughter), Island Peak in the Himalayas, and many other mountains.

He received his JD from the College of William & Mary's Law School and his BBA from the Business Honors Program at the University of Texas at Austin. Michael and his wife Robin Rosenberg, a US district judge, have three children, and live in Florida and Massachusetts.

For more information, please visit https://notruthlefttotell.com/

March 02, 2020

Spotlight: Secret Heir Seduction by Reese Ryan

March 02, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Can he tell her the truth…this time?

Will he risk everything for a reunion? Will she give him the chance?

Discovering he’s a long-lost heir isn’t the only surprise awaiting Darius Taylor-Pratt in Royal, Texas. He’s next door to his ex after five long years. Darius broke off his red-hot relationship with designer Audra Covington without explanation. He still has regrets…and truths he’s hiding. Rekindling their flame may cost him…especially when new secrets surface to threaten their second shot at seduction.

Excerpt

Darius took another of the wedge fries, swiped it in the milkshake and popped it in his mouth.

It was something people over the age of twelve usually found repulsive. But today, he deserved to indulge himself.

“A bacon cheeseburger, fries and a strawberry shake. I was going to ask if it was a really good day or a really bad one, but then you dipped your fry into your shake, so I guess that answers that.”

Darius froze, then turned toward the familiar voice. His eyes widened.

“Audra Lee Covington?”

No, it isn’t possible.

What would his grad school girlfriend be doing in Royal, Texas?

“So you do remember me.” She folded her arms. “I wasn’t sure you would. After all, you never returned my calls.”

Remember? He couldn’t forget her if he tried. She’d been his biggest regret. The woman who still haunted his dreams.

He stared at her, blinking. Still not sure he could believe his eyes.

She was stunning, as always. Her dark wavy hair was tucked behind her ears and fell to her shoulders. Gold-and-diamond starburst ear climbers decorated the outer curve of each ear. She wore a cream-colored, chunky-knit sweater and distressed skinny jeans that hugged every curve. And there was a small, star-shaped diamond stud in one nostril.

“Audra.” He stood, wiping his hands on a napkin. He inhaled her sweet scent as they shared an awkward hug. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Good to see you, too,” she said sarcastically as she stepped away, folding her arms again. Her lips pressed into a harsh line as she narrowed her gaze at him.

If looks could kill, he’d be laid out on the black-and-white tile floor with a chalk line around him.

“It’s good to see you, Audra, of course. I should’ve said I’m stunned to see you here in Royal, Texas.” He gestured toward the opposite side of the booth. “You look...amazing.” It was an egregious understatement. She was drop-dead gorgeous. “Join me?”

Audra’s sensual lips, shiny with lip gloss, quirked in a semi-frown as she studied him. Finally, she nodded and slid across from him in the booth.

“The new look—” she indicated his bald head, a look he’d transitioned to nearly three years ago “—I like it. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “What did you order?”

“They make an incredible Cobb salad. It probably has as many calories as your burger and fries, but at least I feel like I’m making an effort.”

He’d always loved her refreshing honesty. Too bad he hadn’t afforded her the same. Their story still would’ve ended. But if he’d been honest with her then, at least he’d have no regrets where Audra was concerned.

“LA Fashion Week is just a few weeks away. I’d expect the great Audra Lee Covington to be in the design studio right now.”

Audra was a diamond heiress. She’d broken rank with her very traditional family and formed her own company that catered to a younger, trendier clientele. Her name got frequent mentions in fashion magazines when A-list actors, musicians and social influencers bragged that they were iced in Audra Lee Covington diamond earrings, necklaces, bracelets and tiaras.

“Royal isn’t my usual hangout. That’s for sure.” A deep smile lit Audra’s rich espresso-brown eyes, the same color as her shoulder-length hair. “I got an early start on the season this year. So when I received a lucrative request from a wealthy bride-to-be here in Royal, I couldn’t resist. I’m creating custom wedding jewelry for the couple and gifts for their bridal party. So I’m staying in town for a bit. Getting to know the area and the bride, who will be returning from New York tomorrow with her fiancé. I’d hardly expect to run into you here, either.” She clasped her hands on the table. “I hear Thr3d will be doing a runway show this year.”

“We are. My team is back in LA working tirelessly to prepare for it.”

She produced a gum-filled lollipop from her pocket, opened the wrapper and popped it in her mouth.

Was that a fucking tongue ring?

Darius was pretty sure his jaw hit the ground and another part of his body reached for the sky.

Good thing he’d returned to his seat.

Audra propped her elbows on the table and tilted her head as she studied him. “What brings you to Royal?”

“A business opportunity.” It wasn’t a lie. The opportunity to collaborate with Miranda had brought him to town.

She sucked on that damn lollipop, which had already stained her tongue red, and awaited further explanation.

“It’s too early to share details.” He picked up his burger. “But I’m hoping to create a clothing line for a major fitness brand.”

“Ah.” When she said it, he couldn’t help staring at her candy-red, pierced tongue. “Miranda Dupree. Scoring the clothing line for her Goddess brand would be a major coup.”

“How’d you—”

“It’s a small world, I guess.” She shrugged. “Miranda is my client’s ex-stepmother. My client is Sophie Blackwood. Do you know her?”

His half sister. Damn. It was a small world.

“Never met her.” He shrugged. “But I’ve heard the name.”

Less than an hour ago, in fact.

Audra’s mouth made a popping sound when she yanked the lollipop from between her lips. She stared at him, her brown eyes narrowed. Judging him. As if she didn’t believe him.

Darius bit a mouthful of the bacon cheeseburger.

He hadn’t seen Audra in five years. They weren’t together, and she had no right to know his personal business.

So why did he feel as guilty now for telling her a half-truth as he had when they were together?

Audra returned the sucker to her mouth and rose from the table. She didn’t believe him, but she obviously didn’t deem pursuing the truth worth her time.

Knowing she found him unworthy made his chest ache. Her wordless condemnation was exactly what he deserved.

“Looks like they’re done with my order.” Audra nodded toward where Amanda was packing a to-go bag. “Nice seeing you again, Darius. Good luck with Fashion Week.”

Darius groaned quietly as he swiped another French fry into his milkshake and took a bite.

Audra made a hasty escape, and he couldn’t blame her.

He was a liar. Apparently, it was hereditary.

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About Reese Ryan

Reese Ryan writes sexy, emotional romance with captivating family drama, surprising secrets, and a posse of complex, flawed characters.

A Midwesterner with deep Southern roots, Reese currently resides in semi-small-town North Carolina where she’s an avid reader, a music junkie, and a self-declared connoisseur of cheesy grits.

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March 01, 2020

Spotlight: Love to Hate Her by J. Saman

March 01, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

Genre: Contemporary Romance

A rare moment of weakness.

A burning desire impossible to deny.

Forbidden words I should never have spoken.

Seven years ago, I confessed my darkest secret to my brother’s girlfriend. When she broke up with him and walked out of our lives, she took my secret with her.

But, with my band set to go on tour around the world, I have a problem. I need a nanny for my autistic daughter. And unfortunately, Viola Starr, my brother’s ex, is the perfect fit.

Now, there is no escaping her. Or our past.

Especially when my brother seems determined to win her back.

Five months and she’ll be out of my life again.

Five months of ignoring lingering, heated glances.

The fire she draws out of me. The way she loves my daughter.

Five months… And my world is about to come crashing down around me.

Excerpt

Her fingers rake through my hair, tugging until my eyes drag up to hers.

“I have a million reasons to leave, Jasper. A million. You push me past my every limit day in and day out. You hate me. Ignore me. Fight with me. Tease me. Tempt me. Make me feel alive and forgotten in the same breath. I have a million reasons to leave. I need one reason to stay. One reason that isn’t your little girl.”

I stare into her, my fingers brushing back the long strands of her hair from her face. I hold that reason on my tongue, tasting its sweetness as it burns me like venom. It’s a truth I can’t let go. One I’m not ready for her to have.

I’ll probably never be.

“He loves you. You love him. How’s that for a reason?”

She shakes her head at me, her frustration palpable. “Is that what you’re really thinking right now while I’m sitting on your lap in the dark? With all that we’ve done together this past week? That I love him?”

“It’s the only thing that matters between us.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Am I?” I question, tilting my head, Jules’s words pounding through my skull so loud I can hardly see, let alone think, past them. She loves him. Not you. Again, what reason would Jules have to lie to me about that? They’re best friends. Best friends who likely tell each other everything. Isn’t that what girls do?

“I don’t want to hurt like this when I look at you anymore. I’m tired of hating you while not being able to stop thinking about you.”

My lips descend into the base of her neck, directly over her pulse that thrums beneath me. My eyes close, and I inhale a silent breath. I’m tired of loving you while not being able to have you.

“You don’t hate me, Viola.”

“You’re right. I don’t hate you, Jasper. You’re the one who can’t make up his mind.”

“What is it you’re looking for from me?” I speak against her skin. “What is it you think I have to give you when you belong to him? You want me to stop hating you? Done. You want me to be nice? I can fucking try. You want me to fuck this thing out of us? I will. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give you anything. Because while you have a million reasons to go, and you’re looking for one to stay other than my daughter, she’s the only reason I can give you to stay when I have a million for you to go.”

Her breath hitches, her head falling back as my tongue swipes out, stealing a taste.

My hands drop from her hair, sliding along her narrow shoulders, over the top of her chest, down her ribs, my thumbs brushing the sides of her full tits through her shirt as I go. Her body trembles against mine as my hands grasp her waist, my nose gliding up the long column of her neck.

My body unable to hold back as I lick and suck and kiss her there.

Only there.

If I kiss her mouth, there will be no going back.

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About J. Saman

J. Saman loves all types of novels, but finds herself always going back to writing/reading romances. She's addicted to Diet Coke and sour candy, and swears way too much. She's an admitted lover of picking at old wounds, second chance romances, love triangles and the perfect amount of angst . She writes smart, strong women and sexy alpha (slightly nerdy) men who have a softer side.

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February 27, 2020

Spotlight: Willa's Grove by Laura Munson

February 27, 2020/ Michelle Bowles

In this powerful and inspiring novel, three women, from coast to coast and in between, open their mailboxes to the same intriguing invitation. Although leading entirely different lives, each has found herself at a similar, jarring crossroads. Right when these women thought they’d be comfortably settling into middle age, their carefully curated futures have turned out to be dead ends. The sender of the invitation is Willa Silvester, who is reeling from the untimely death of her beloved husband and the reality that she must say goodbye to the small mountain town they founded together. Yet as Willa mourns her losses, an impossible question keeps staring her in the face: So now what?

Struggling to find the answer alone, fiercely independent Willa eventually calls a childhood friend who happens to be in her own world of hurt—and that’s where the idea sparks. They decide to host a weeklong interlude from life, and invite two other friends facing their own quandaries. Soon the four women converge at Willa’s Montana homestead, a place where they can learn from nature and one another as they contemplate their second acts together in the rugged wilderness of big sky country.