Spotlight: Claiming His Bollywood Cinderella: A Passionate Fairytale Retelling by Tara Pammi

He’s a Bollywood superstar, she’s a personal assistant… And their one night proves that keeping things professional will be impossible in this passionate and uplifting Cinderella romance from Tara Pammi. A brief encounter… A forbidden fairy tale!

The hottest actor in Bollywood, Vikram Raawal has found love countless times—when he’s playing a role. In real life, he’s given up on finding a soul-deep connection and prefers to focus entirely on his career. Until at a masquerade ball, one woman leaves him craving more…

Naina Menon’s first impression of drop-dead gorgeous Vikram left much to be desired. But then one heart-stopping night shows her there’s so much more to him than his celebrity persona. Still, he’s a billionaire, and she’s a humble assistant. Is passion enough to bridge their different worlds?

From Harlequin Presents: Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.

Excerpt

Vikram Raawal walked up the steps of Raawal Mahal, his family’s two-hundred-year-old palatial ancestral bungalow. It was the only property his parents had left unsullied by their still-tempestuous marriage of forty years. 

The muggy October afternoon was redolent with the pungent aroma of the jasmine creeper that his grandfather had planted for his wife all those years ago. 

His grandparents had shared a love story that couldn’t be recreated by all the glittering sets and stars of Bollywood. If not for the fact that Vikram had very clear memories of them—Daadu and Daadi sitting side by side listening to ghazals on the gramophone, sharing stories with him and his younger brother and sister, Daadi keeping silent vigil by her husband’s side as he vanished away into nothing…he would have scoffed at even the idea of such a love. 

But he had seen it. He’d been a part of it. He’d found comfort and joy in its shadow. And today, at the age of thirty-six, memories of that love hit him hard. 

He was lonely, he admitted to himself, as he walked through the gated courtyard toward the main bungalow. The strains of an old ghazal played on the gramophone player, sinking sweetly into his veins, slowly releasing the pent-up tension he’d been carrying. He laughed at the mural his younger brother, Virat, had painted on one wall where a profusion of plants and flowerpots sat on an elevated concrete bench. 

The cozy bungalow, full of sweet memories and peaceful childhood associations, was his favorite place in the world. And yet, he had avoided visiting for almost two months, using out-of-country shoots and overloaded scheduling as excuses. 

But here in this place where he was just Vikram and not Vikram Raawal, Bollywood star, and the chairman of the family production company Raawal House of Cinema, he couldn’t lie to himself. 

He hadn’t wanted to expose himself to his daadi’s brand of perceptiveness. He hadn’t wanted her to see how unhappy he’d been of late. How…unsettled in his own skin. 

The raucous burst of a man’s laughter punctured his thoughts. It was Virat. 

For a few seconds, Vikram considered turning around and walking out. His recent argument with his brother had been far dirtier than their usual headbutting over projects for Raawal House. Being called arrogant and dominating by a brother that he loved and respected had…shaken him.

The laughter came again and Vikram’s curiosity trumped his reluctance. He walked through the grand salon, filled with his grandfather’s trophies and accolades from a career that had lasted close to five decades in Bollywood.

Vijay Raawal had not only been a celebrated actor and director but had built his career from the ground up after traveling the country with a theater group for years. Started his own production company, and taken the industry in a new direction. Made mainstream films, art projects, and careers of many stars and never once lost his integrity.

How had his grandfather sustained such a glittering career in such a superficial and cutthroat industry? Had it been simply the unconditional support Daadi had offered him through everything?

After fifteen years and numerous box office hits in Bollywood, Vikram had suddenly found himself filled with a strange feeling of discontent all of a sudden. But it was more than creative burnout. In a cinematic twist, he’d found himself wanting the same kind of support and affection from someone that Daadi had given Daadu while knowing that he wasn’t actually capable of returning it.

In a crazy moment of impulse, he’d asked his best friend Zara to marry him. Thankfully, Zara had instantly said no. That he had even considered marriage in the first place—even if it was to his oldest and longest friend, showed how unlike himself he was currently feeling.

He nodded at Ramu Kaka—his grandfather’s old manservant, as old and comfortingly familiar as the bungalow itself.

The first thing that hit him as he entered the expansive sitting room was the subtle scent of roses. Every inch of him stilled as he stood over the threshold, his long form hidden from his daadi and Virat by the L-shaped angle of the hall. They were lounging on the divan, while a number of their servants stood huddled by the other door that led to the huge kitchen. Every mouth twitched in varying degrees of smiles.

In the middle of the room, kneeling on the rug, was a young woman with her face in profile to Vikram. Evening sunlight filtered through the high windows in the room and lit up her silhouette. The first thing he noted was the dark halo of her hair, curly and thick like her very own crown, that swung from side to side every time she moved her head, and huge glittering earrings that reminded him of the crystal chandelier Mama had spent thousands of dollars on in some Italian boutique.

The earrings swayed enchantingly every time the young woman moved her head. And she did it a lot. His mouth curved.

Wide eyes, pert nose and a lush mouth moved in constant animation, along with her plump body. Almost anesthetized by seeing size zero bodies on movie sets, he let his gaze return to the voluptuous lines of her body with a curious fascination. A white cotton kurta hugged her breasts, a long chain of glittery beads dancing over them. 

White stones on tiny half-moon gold hoops glinted in a perfect line over the shell of her left ear, winking mischievously in the waning sunlight. With her multihued skirt spread out around her in a kaleidoscope of colors, she was a gorgeous burst of color against a gray landscape. 

Full of life and verve and authenticity he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

A thrilling sliver of excitement bloomed in his gut even as he frowned at the oversized stuffed teddy bear on the floor in front of her. Suddenly, the woman opened her mouth and screamed. 

The cry was deep rather than shrill, perfectly modulated, and eerily familiar. 

Vikram watched in increasing fascination as she extended her arms and bent to scoop up the stuffed toy from the ground into her arms. The gold and silver-colored bracelets she wore on one wrist tinkled at the moment, adding their own background score to the entire scene. 

And then it came to him. 

She was enacting a scene. From a recent movie. His latest action thriller. 

She was…mocking him? 

She was imitating the cheesiest line he’d ever said in front of a camera and she was doing a fantastic job of pinpointing everything he’d hated about the movie and in particular, that scene.

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About the Author

Tara writes sexy romances with swoon-worthy heroes and sassy heroines - whether the classic Presents or the bantery contemporaries! Her heroines are sometimes smart badasses and sometimes shy geeks but all of them find the perfect hero. Because every heroine deserves a love story!

Tara lives in Texas with her very own Hero (who’s kind of a mix of Alpha and Beta and is perfect) and two Heroines-in-making. When she isn’t writing or reading, Tara can be found failing in the kitchen, binge-watching her favorite shows on NetFlix, or making resolutions in her pretty planner to exercise more, or even a little.

Connect:

Website: https://www.tarapammi.com/ 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tarapauthor/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TaraPammi 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.ca/tarapammi/ 

Spotlight: Twisted Love by Piper Lawson

Release Date: October 15

When your rich, handsome best friend asks you to be his fake girlfriend? 

Say no.

One of the wealthiest self-made men in New York needs a woman to secure his spot at the helm of his venture firm.

Problem is, Ben doesn’t want any girlfriend...

He wants me.

It will never work.

We’d have to lie to everyone. 

He’s incapable of a healthy relationship, and I’ve been living a secret I can’t reveal - especially to my best friend.

It’s an impossible choice: 

Bail on the friend who got me through the hardest time in my life...

...Or pretend to fall for the man who already owns my heart?

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Meet Piper Lawson

Piper Lawson is a USA Today bestselling author of smart, steamy romance! She writes about women who follow their dreams (even the scary ones), best friends who know your dirty secrets (and love you anyway), and complex heroes you’ll fall hard for (especially after talking with them). Brains or brawn? She’ll never make you choose. Piper lives in Canada with her tall, dark and brilliant husband. She believes peanut is a protein, rose gold is a neutral, and love is ALWAYS the answer.

Connect with Piper Lawson:

Join her VIP list now ➜ https://www.piperlawsonbooks.com/subscribe

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Spotlight: The Mirror Man: A Novel by Jane Gilmartin

The offer is too tempting: be part of a scientific breakthrough, step out of his life for a year, and be paid hugely for it. When ViGen Pharmaceuticals asks Jeremiah to be part of an illegal cloning experiment, he sees it as a break from an existence he feels disconnected from. No one will know he’s been replaced—not the son who ignores him, not his increasingly distant wife—since a revolutionary drug called Meld can transfer his consciousness and memories to his copy. From a luxurious apartment, he watches the clone navigate his day-to-day life. But soon Jeremiah discovers that examining himself from an outsider’s perspective isn’t what he thought it would be, and he watches in horror as “his” life spirals out of control. ViGen needs the experiment to succeed—they won’t call it off, and are prepared to remove any obstacle. With his family in danger, Jeremiah needs to finally find the courage to face himself head-on.

Excerpt

Charles Scott glared down at him with a glint in his green eyes that felt like a warning, and Jeremiah replayed in his head the man’s ambiguous threat during their first meeting several weeks before.

“You now know as much about this project as anyone else involved,” he’d said. “It wouldn’t do to have too many people walking around with this kind of information. Our investors have a tendency to get nervous.”

Although Scott had quickly followed that remark with the matter of Jeremiah’s substantial compensation, there was no mistaking the implication: the moment he’d been told about the cloning project Jeremiah was already in. That first meeting hadn’t been an invitation so much as an orientation, and the contract he’d later signed had been a formality, at best. And the entire thing had done nothing but gain momentum from that moment on.

Dr. Pike continued to affix the wires to Jeremiah’s head. Jeremiah focused on the man’s gleaming black hair and the deep brown of his sure, professional hands, and he struggled to remember the allure of the $10 million payout he’d get at the end of the whole thing. That kind of money could fix a lot of problems. It would change things. The prospect of that fortune had been enough to make him turn away from principles he thought were unshakable. Every man has his price, he supposed.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he also acknowledged the real temptation of a twelve-month sabbatical from his own life. It had seduced him every bit as much as the money had. Maybe more. Between a job that had already begun to make him question his own morals, and a marriage that felt increasingly more like a lie, stress was eating him alive. And into his lap fell a chance to just walk away from all of it—without consequence and without blame. A free pass. He could simply walk away without anyone even knowing he was gone. There isn’t a man alive, he told himself, who would have refused. Despite the ethical question, despite that human cloning was illegal the world over, it would have tempted anyone.

Dr. Pike injected the clone with Meld and then turned wordlessly to Jeremiah with the second syringe poised above his left shoulder.

Jeremiah closed his eyes and rolled up his sleeve.

After the initial stab of the needle, he felt nothing. Which is not to say he didn’t feel anything; he literally felt nothing. Seconds after the injection, he became aware of a total emptiness, like a towering black wave that threatened to sink him into an immeasurable void. The experience was unlike anything he’d ever known. He imagined an astronaut suddenly untethered from his ship, floating helplessly into unending darkness. Without thinking, he immediately felt his body recoil. His mind screamed against it.

I’m dying!

From impossibly far away, he heard Dr. Pike say something about a heart rate and felt the slight pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t see anything of the hospital room anymore. He was drowning in the blackness. His chest felt suddenly constricted. He fought just to find his breath.

“This is all perfectly normal, Mr. Adams. You have nothing to worry about. Concentrate on the sound of my voice. Nod if you can hear me.”

With considerable effort, Jeremiah managed what he hoped was a nod of his head. He was suddenly gripped by the alarming certainty that if he couldn’t communicate somehow, he’d be lost—swept away forever.

“Good. Good. Listen to my voice. It will keep you grounded.” Pike still sounded far away, but Jeremiah nodded again and struggled to focus. “What you are experiencing is to be expected. Do you remember when you took the Meld with Dr. Young? Do you remember the way you could feel her thoughts for the first few minutes?”

He nodded. It had been an unnerving thing to perceive her consciousness mixing with his like that. Flashes from her mind—odd, alien things like the feel of a blister on the back of her right heel, the familiar gleam in the eye of an old man he’d never seen—had swirled into the very structure of his own mind and fought for a place to settle. He had railed against that, too, and she had grounded him by flashing a penlight in his face, making him focus on that while the Meld took effect. Afterward, once he had sunk in, it had been easier.

“This is no different than what you experienced then,” Pike said. “This time, though, you are connected to an empty mind. There’s nothing there. But the more you resist, the longer this will take. You need to relax, Mr. Adams. Give in to it.”

Jeremiah nodded again and then shook his head with as much grit as he could muster. How does one give in to this? He didn’t think he could do it.

“Once your thoughts begin transferring into the mind of the clone it will be easier for you,” Pike urged. “Focus on a memory, as I suggested. Something vivid. It will help to fill that void you’re experiencing now. It will give you something to hang on to.”

Without the benefit of his full faculties, Jeremiah had little choice but to grab the last thing he’d been thinking about—his initial conversation with Charles Scott, the day all of this began.

He’d been surprised when he’d received an invitation to lunch from ViMed’s head of Engineering. The man was an icon in the science world, and although he’d quoted him a hundred times for the company, Jeremiah had never actually met him. He’d been intrigued enough to accept the invitation, especially when Scott had told him it involved a “proposition that could make him a very wealthy man.”

Flashes of that encounter and snatches of conversation now flitted through his mind like so many fireflies. He fought to catch them.

“We’ve been watching you, Mr. Adams.”

“All we ask is one year of your life. Isn’t that worth $10 million?”

“We can do this. The science exists. And with Meld, the clone will even share your thought patterns… Your own mother won’t know the difference.”

“This is sanctioned by powerful people—we have millions in secret federal backing. There are billions more in eventual funding… There’s no need to be so suspicious, Mr. Adams.”

From somewhere far away, Jeremiah heard Dr. Pike repeating his name. He had been so engulfed in his efforts to hold on to the memory that he’d almost forgotten where he was. As soon as he realized it, the void loomed again in his mind.

“Mr. Adams,” Pike said, “you’ve got to listen to me. The clone cannot pick up on any memory of the experiment. What you’re thinking about is not going to help. You need to think about something else, some memory that won’t be filtered. His mind is still empty.”

Jeremiah panicked. He couldn’t think. And now that he wasn’t focused on anything, the blackness began to take over again, creeping closer and threatening to swallow him. He fought for breath.

“Relax, Mr. Adams,” Pike said. “Think about your job here at ViMed. Remember something the clone can actually use. Something he’ll need to know.”

He felt a dull jab at his shoulder.

“This should help. I’ve given you a mild sedative. Take a few deep breaths. Concentrate on your breathing.”

With everything in him, Jeremiah tried to turn his mind away from the void that seemed to be all around him. He inhaled deeply and tried to focus on the rise of his own chest. Exhaled, and he felt his chest fall.

“Very good, Mr. Adams. Very good. Pulse is returning to normal. Deep breaths. Now, think about a typical day at work. Something ordinary and mundane.”

Inhale. Exhale. After a moment, Jeremiah began to relax and, as the sedative took hold, he found he could let his mind wander without the frantic thought that he’d never get it back. An oddly comforting fog seemed to expand in front of him, pushing the blackness away slightly, and Jeremiah retreated into it.

He began to think about the morning of the Meld fiasco—the day the New Jersey housewife had killed herself. The press had been circling. He’d arrived at his office with a terse mandate from his superiors to “get these fuckers off our back” and no idea how to accomplish that. It hadn’t been lost on him that not a single soul seemed bothered enough to stop and feel sorry about it, and he’d taken a quick moment behind his office door to offer silent condolences. It wasn’t thirty seconds before someone had come knocking, pushing him to get something done.

Weeks before, he’d heard talk of Meld being used to detect brain activity in a sixteen-year-old football player who had been comatose for nearly six months. Time to cash in. He tracked down the doctor somewhere in Delaware and the man started gushing about Meld, calling it “magical,” “a godsend” and “the most important medical advance of a generation.”

“After so many weeks,” he said, “the parents were hopeless.”

Meld was a last resort before pulling the plug, and it gave them the first clear signs of neural activity in the boy.

“Not only was he aware and awake in there, but he was cognizant of everything that was going on around him—including the fact that his parents were losing hope. He even heard them talking about funeral arrangements at one point. The kid was scared, terrified. He was begging for his life in there. That’s what I saw when I took the Meld with him. Meld absolutely saved his life. There is no doubt in my mind.”

Jeremiah had almost smiled. It was pure gold. A few hours later, the story was in the hands of every major news outlet, and that doctor was spending his fifteen minutes of fame touting Meld as “a medical miracle.”

Jeremiah focused on that now. Maybe Meld did have some silver lining, after all, he thought. Maybe it was miraculous.

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About the Author

Jane Gilmartin has been a news reporter and editor for several small-town weekly papers and enjoyed a brief but exciting stint as a rock music journalist. A bucket list review just before she turned 50 set her on the path to fiction writing. Also checked off that list: an accidental singing career, attending a Star Trek convention, and getting a hug from David Bowie. She lives in her hometown of Hingham, Massachusetts.

Connect:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JANEGILMARTIN3 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/imadj123/ 

Spotlight: The Back-Up Girlfriend from Emma Doherty

Abigail Baker has messed up. She’s in her last couple of months of high school, and all anyone thinks of her is that she’s the mean girl of Grove Valley High School who doesn’t care about anything.

But she does.

She cares about the state of her relationship with her parents and how damaged it is, she cares that she can’t trust if her best friend is actually loyal to her or about to stab her in the back, she cares that her ex is crazy happy without her and she has to witness it every day, and she definitely cares when she’s told that, because of her behavior and complete lack of interest in school over the last few months, her grades have dropped to the point where she might not graduate.

She’s definitely messed up.

Step in Brett Sanderson, the smartest guy in school and the only person who’s capable of helping her pull her grades up enough to graduate.

Only Brett isn’t Abigail’s biggest fan and refuses to help her unless she sets him up on a date with her friend. That’s fine with Abigail, because he does nothing but annoy her—that is, until he starts to make her smile, until she starts to look forward to their tutoring sessions, until she starts to trust him with things she’s never told anyone before.

But she’s stupid to start liking him, because it isn’t her he likes.

And one thing she does know for sure?

She’s done being everyone’s backup.

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About the Author

Emma Doherty is a writer from England, UK. 

Most of her time is spent day dreaming and creating new stories. Far too much time is also spent looking up flights as she plans her next getaway in the sun!

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Spotlight: A Sheriff's Star by Makenna Lee

It was only supposed to be a temporary home… He interrupts her plans…

When police chief Anson Curry returns a lost little girl to her frantic mother, his only goal is to ease the single mom’s anxiety. But it doesn’t take long for Tess Harper’s amazing child to have Anson wrapped around her little finger—and for Tess to have him thinking about a possible relationship. As for Tess, she’s tempted—even though she had planned to be in Oak Hollow, Texas, only temporarily. But after losing her father and brother in the line of duty, Tess thinks Anson’s job poses too much of a risk to her heart. And Anson has no plans to get involved with someone who’s planning on leaving.

From Harlequin Special Edition: Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

Home to Oak Hollow, Book 1: A Sheriff’s Star

Excerpt

Where’s my baby?

Tess Harper’s rib cage rattled with the abrupt drumming of her heart. “Hannah Lynn! Where are you? Answer Momma!”

This can’t be happening! I only glanced away for a second.

Blood pounded in her head with such force her vision wavered, and a hot, prickly knot wedged in her throat. She grabbed a rack of clothes, knocked items to the floor and forced herself to focus. No one had been standing near them to snatch her little girl. Her precocious child must’ve slipped into one of the stuffed, round racks to play her favorite game of hide-and-seek. 

Please, please let her be okay. “Hannah Lynn, answer me!”

A store employee stood nearby folding T-shirts, unaffected by Tess’s cries.

“My daughter is missing! Can you make an announcement?”

“What does she look like?” asked the blank-faced teen.

“She’s four, blonde, has Down syndrome.”

“Over here, ma’am,” a deep, male voice called from across the women’s department. “I think I have who you’re looking for.”

Tess spun to see her daughter in the arms of a tall police officer. She ran, dodging obstacles and other shoppers, and pulled Hannah into her arms. The slight weight of her child was an immediate relief. She cradled her head of silky curls and kissed her smooth, broad forehead. “Don’t you ever run off like that again. You scared the life out of me.”

Hannah’s bottom lip poked out and she placed both hands on her mother’s cheeks. “I sorry, Momma.”

The waning adrenaline rush left her trembling and dizzy. A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and she stiffened. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s find a place to sit.”

Allowing a strange man to touch her wasn’t typical behavior, but he was a police officer like her father had been, and at the moment, she welcomed the support. “I could sit for a minute.”

He guided them to a bench near the dressing room and sat beside them. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

Tess shook her head, too intent on hugging her squirming daughter and savoring her baby shampoo scent. “I can’t believe I let this happen. I only turned my head, and when I looked back, she was gone. What if…” Her throat tightened and burned with repressed tears, cutting off her words. Terrible scenarios scrolled through her mind, each one more horrifying than the next.

“Play hide-see, Momma.”

“Sweet girl, you have to promise to tell me before we start playing hide-and-seek.”

“Something like this happens to every parent at some point,” said the officer. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

She cut him a hard look, ready to argue that her slipup was completely unacceptable. “Are you a parent?”

His jaw tightened and twitched. “No.”

“Then you don’t know what this feels like.” Tess didn’t miss the spark of sorrow in the man’s blue eyes. His expression almost matched the strained one that often stared back from her reflection. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, though. Where did you find my daughter?”

“She found me. I was looking through the ladies’ robes when a little hand reached out and tugged on my pant leg.” 

“Ladies’ robes?” She bit her lip. It was none of her business what he shopped for.

Color bloomed high on his cheekbones. “For my grandmother.”

Hannah wiggled off her mother’s lap and onto the bench between them. “Sheriff safe?” Her blue-green eyes cut back and forth between them.

“Yes, baby.” Tess glanced at his badge that read Chief of Police. “She thinks you’re a sheriff like one of her favorite cartoon characters.”

He smiled at Hannah, showing dimples almost hidden beneath a short-cropped, blond beard. “You sure are a smart little girl. How old are you?”

“I four.” Hannah climbed onto her knees and traced around the border of his badge. “Circle.” Her tiny finger poked through each of the holes surrounding the center star. “Sheriff star.”

“It means I’ve promised to protect and keep you safe.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small plastic star and pinned it onto Hannah’s pink shirt. “You can be my honorary officer.”

Her daughter—normally shy around men—flung her arms around his neck. “Tank you.”

Tess once again caught a quick flash of distress before he schooled his features and returned the hug. Watching her child interact with a “father figure” set off a familiar swell of sadness that rolled in like a tidal wave. Hannah’s father didn’t want to be part of their lives, but he was the one missing out on the unconditional love of a precious child. 

His loss. Idiot, selfish bastard.

She shook off the dark thoughts and took a good look at the man wearing a tan cowboy hat. His movie-star-worthy face topped powerful shoulders and a chest that filled his uniform shirt almost to the point of bursting buttons.

What’s the matter with me? How can I notice a man’s appearance at a time like this?

Eyes squeezed closed, she turned her head to hide her emotions from a man who was way too attractive, and no doubt knew it. He probably had women fawning all over him. She did not need another man who’d play with her heart like a chew toy. Especially one with a dangerous job.

I can, and will, raise my child on my own.

Oak Hollow, Texas, might be a small town, but she made up her mind to keep as much distance as possible between her and this tempting officer. It wouldn’t be that hard. They’d only be here a couple of months before moving on to Houston to prepare for Hannah’s heart surgery.

Hannah plopped onto her bottom, little legs swinging as she admired her prize.

“Thank you for your help. I need to find our shopping cart and get groceries. I’m moving into our new place today and I don’t want to be late meeting the landlord.”

He cocked his head and studied her with a set of stormy blue eyes. “Is your new place by any chance the Craftsman bungalow on Eighteenth Street?” 

Hair lifted on the back of her neck. “How’d you know?”

He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tess Harper. I’m your landlord, Anson Curry.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

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About the Author

Makenna Lee is an award-winning romance author living in the Texas Hill Country with her real-life hero and their two children. Her oldest son has Down syndrome and taught her to appreciate the little things, and he inspired one of her novels. As a child, she played in the woods, looked for fairies under toadstools, and daydreamed. Her writing journey began when she mentioned all her story ideas, and her husband asked why she wasn’t writing them down. The next day she bought a laptop, started her first book, and knew she’d found her passion. Now, Makenna is often drinking coffee while writing, reading, or plotting a new story. Her wish is to write books that touch your heart, making you feel, think, and dream. She enjoys renaissance festivals, nature photography, studying herbal medicine, and usually listens to Celtic music while writing. She writes for Harlequin and Entangled Publishing and believes everyone deserves a happy ending.

Connect:

Website: https://makennalee.com/ 

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/makennaleewriter/ 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MakennaLeeAuthor 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MakennaLeeBooks

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18822880.Makenna_Lee

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Makenna-Lee/e/B07N97GX3N/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.ca/makennaleewrite/

Spotlight: A Family for Christmas by Nola Cross

He never thought he’d have a real family Christmas…

For the past eight years, Bill Smith has been unable to set down roots. But he never forgot the magical night he spent with an auburn-haired beauty in Last Stand, Texas. When she finally tracked him down, he was more than happy to donate a kidney to AJ, the son he never knew he had. But now that AJ is better, Bill wants more time with him and his mother. He wants a family.

Annie Burleson can’t help but be grateful to this almost-stranger for saving AJ’s life. Still, she’s a little wary. AJ has already been through so much—what if Bill leaves again? And with Christmas in full swing, it’s difficult to discern which emotions are festive and which are forever.

As Annie and Bill’s lives collide, their mutual love for AJ makes this more than a marriage of convenience. But is it enough to give them the family Christmas they all deserve?

Excerpt

That night after the fishing expedition, Bill found himself lying awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the boy’s request for a brother. It was a natural thing for a child to ask about, but he himself had managed to push all thoughts of sex with Annie deep to the back of his mind. Now that he allowed the idea to bloom in his head, the memories of their one time together, all those years ago, came flooding through him. 

This time he let himself remember everything: the silk of her skin, the scent of her hair, the plaintive sounds she made as he touched her. The way she had moved beneath him, welcomed him inside her. The more he let himself remember, the worse his body ached. Then Lucky began to snore, two beds away, and Bill knew all possibility of sleep was gone. 

He stood up and took his jeans from the chair beside the bed, pulled them on, and put on his boots and jacket. Then he quietly made his way to the door. Outside, the Texas sky was black and clear and lit with a million stars. The land rolled, dark and mysterious, for more miles than he could see. Up on the ridge, a coyote began to sing, the eerie notes quivering as they echoed against the barn. He shivered. He knew how that coyote felt. He’d been alone for a good part of his life. But now he had the chance for something different. He had a son. And next Saturday he’d have a wife, too, if in name only. 

Is that what he wanted?

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About the Author

I remember as a small girl being fascinated with the idea that people could make up stories and the stories became books. I began writing my own stories before I even started school, and won my first writing contest at the age of nine. It’s always been my dream to be a published author. The road was a long and twisting one, but I finally made it. I’m proud to be a two-time Golden Heart finalist, and several of my stories have been Amazon best sellers.

For a while I penned erotic fiction under a pseudonym. Although it was fun to explore my “darker side”, I am now answering the true call of my heart: to write bigger stories that focus on emotion, loss, spirit, and true love, stories I hope my readers will relate to and want to read more than once. Small town America is my favorite fictional setting. I’m particularly enjoying my recent foray into writing Cowboy romance.

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