Spotlight: Scars of Sand and Soil by Jean K. Kravitz

Historical Fiction

Date Published: July 24th, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

What’s left of a man’s soul when everything he loves is taken from him? 

It’s 1864, and Gabriel Cooper couldn’t care less about the civil war raging around him. Framed for crimes he didn’t commit, he’s been sentenced to a Confederate chain gang, where swampland justice rules and alligators prey on the unwary. 

So when Colonel Robert Tremont rides into camp offering freedom in exchange for fighting on the front lines, Gabriel jumps at the opportunity. He thrives as a soldier, but the end of the war leaves him adrift. 

Gabriel ends up in New Orleans, where he meets Simone Livingston, a fiercely independent woman with hidden scars of her own. Kept on a tight rein by her overbearing father, Simone only wants freedom—and the enigmatic Gabriel. 

But Gabriel has unfinished business and a mind for vengeance. Will he be able to create a peaceful life with Simone or will his greed and thirst for retribution keep them trapped in a dangerous web of deceit—a web Gabriel fears can only be untangled with murder.

Excerpt

Gabriel sat quietly in the bushes by the Pastor’s house for several hours, waiting and watching. Finally, the kerosene lamp was turned off. Gabriel followed the flickering light of one lone candle as it left the study and disappeared through an adjoining door. 

Gabriel continued to bide his time. Hours went by, but finally he emerged, dressed in dark shabby clothes, a cap pulled low over his eyes. Making sure he left no footprints, he approached the house. He had spent days watching the pastor’s activity. To get inside the house, he posed as one more hungry rebel, calling when he knew the pastor was not home. 

“Might there be somethin’ in yer fine home that needs fixin’? I work fer food or money.” He shifted his feet pathetically. “I got me an ailin’ wife and four young uns at home.” 

Mrs. Bell, one of the pastor’s white, long-time congregants, shook her head. “No, there’s nothing here for you to do. But come in, and I’ll see if I can’t find something for you to take home to your wife.” 

“God’s blessin’ be upon ya, ma’am, fer yer Christian charity.” Mrs. Bell ushered him into the pastor’s home and motioned him to sit on a bench in the hallway. She headed for the kitchen. 

Once Gabriel heard her in the back, he rose from the bench. It was a small, one-story structure, simple in its layout. The pastor’s study was the second door on Gabriel’s right, diagonal from the parlor. Gabriel entered the study, noticing a closed door. It was to the left of the pastor’s desk, whereas a window looking into the bushes was on the right. Gabriel went to the door and pushed it. There was a bed and nightstand against one wall and a bookshelf on the opposite wall. There were no windows. Gabriel’s gaze swept the room and he quickly retreated. 

He retraced his steps and sat down when Mrs. Bell reappeared with a parcel wrapped in brown paper. “Here,” she said, “some bread and molasses for your wife, and cookies for the children.” 

Gabriel stood up. “Thank ya kindly, ma’am.” 

“Your wife and family are in my prayers, sir,” said Mrs. Bell as he left the house. 

Gabriel relived that whole scenario as he eased open the front door. A fog swirled around him, a dewy shield against any witnesses. He felt his way carefully with a cane he had brought, as if he were a blind man. Tap, tap, tap, ever so softly, careful to detect any obstacles in his way. Tap, tap, tap, breach the doorway and round the corner. In his mind’s eye Gabriel could see the layout he’d canvassed just days before. 

He reached the pastor’s bedroom. Guided by the man’s soft snoring, Gabriel crept in. He had strapped a pillow under his baggy shirt; it doubled as disguise and weapon. 

Pastor Evans lay on his back, slack-jawed. He was no match for the man who stuffed the pillow so hard, so swiftly onto his face that he barely struggled. He certainly never uttered a sound.

Finally, Gabriel lifted the pillow and looked down. The man was dead, eyes wide open and mouth still agape. How unceremonious. 

Gabriel lit the candle on the nightstand and touched the flame to the pastor’s coverlet. With a snap it sprang to fiery life. 

Gabriel backed out of the room, closing the door as the flames engulfed the bed. He swiftly went to the study window, opened it, and climbed out. He then turned and closed the window; leave everything as you found it. Wiping his footprints from the dirt, he sidled to the front of the house and walked down the street. The neighbors were still asleep, oblivious to the inferno in their midst. 

He headed over to Poydras Street, to the corner of St. Charles where he had hidden a knapsack in a clump of ferns behind a rusted fleur-de-lis gate. Gabriel stepped into the shadows and when he re-emerged, his appearance was transformed. Beneath his workaday costume he had been wearing an elegant linen shirt and pants of fine wool. He now donned a pair of fake spectacles, a top hat, and a nicely cut wool jacket. 

He took his place on the street as a gentleman heading home. No questions would be asked of him. As he walked, his adrenaline began to level out and a growing satisfaction took its place. He had achieved justice for his beloved. He had made everything right.

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About the Author

As the quintessential queen of “what if,” Jean Kravitz channeled her active imagination to pen her debut novel, Scars of Sand and Soil. However, achieving her childhood dream of being a published writer was not a straightforward path. 

Jean earned a bachelor’s degree in psychology and a master’s degree in human development and aging from the University of California, San Francisco. She went into clinical research in pharmaceuticals, but left her career when her children were born. Then, she picked up writing again, honed her craft, published articles in a small newspaper, and passionately immersed herself in historical research.

Jean has many interests, including reading, gardening, needlepoint, and learning new languages. She lives in Southern California and has a husband, two daughters, and two cats, Lenny and Penny.

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Spotlight: Love in Riverbend by Aleatha Romig

Release Date: August 18

Take the backroads, enjoy the soft breezes and fluffy clouds on your way to Riverbend, Indiana. Only a short drive from the hustle and bustle of big cities, Riverbend is a town you’ll never want to leave. With life-long friends and family, everyone knows one another, and everyone’s secrets.

This box set includes three low-angst and super steamy stories will make you believe in the power of love.

LOVE IN RIVERBEND contains: QUINTESSENTIALLY THE ONE, ONE KISS, ONE STRING

QUINTESSENTIALLY THE ONE: sexy, fun, secret-baby, second-chance, small-town contemporary romance
ONE KISS: age-gap, best friend’s sister, small-town forbidden contemporary romance
ONE STRING: second-chance, enemies-to-lovers, fake-date, little-sister’s-best-friend, forbidden, stand-alone contemporary romance.

Have you been Aleatha'd?

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Meet Aleatha Romig

Aleatha Romig is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Indiana. She grew up in Mishawaka, graduated from Indiana University, and is currently living south of Indianapolis. Together with her high-school sweetheart and husband of over thirty years, they've raised three children. Before she became a full-time author, she worked days as a dental hygienist and spent her nights writing. Now, when she’s not imagining mind-blowing twists and turns or her new lighter side, she likes to spend her time with her family and friends. Her pastimes include reading and creating heroes/anti-heroes who haunt your dreams! 

Keep up with Aleatha Romig and subscribe to her newsletter: https://www.aleatharomig.com/contact

To learn more about Aleatha Romig & her books, visit here!

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Spotlight: We Are the Match by Mary E. Roach

Two women in love and in danger. Mob families at war. An explosive and enthralling contemporary reimagining of the Helen of Troy myth set against the splendor of the Grecian islands.

Paris is a fixer for mob families on the Grecian islands when a powerful crime lord hires her to investigate a bombing. Insinuating herself into Zarek's circle is the chance for revenge that Paris has been waiting for since she was a child. Years ago, Zarek wiped out everyone she loved. Now it's Paris's turn. Her target? Zarek's beautiful daughter, Helen.

Helen wants nothing more than to abandon the violent world in which she was raised—and worse, an arranged marriage to a man she barely knows. In Paris, Helen sees the perfect tool to help her escape. And in Helen, Paris sees a desperate woman who will be the perfect revenge. As the two work together to find the bomber, and their connection becomes increasingly intimate, Zarek's empire grows more fragile and their own bonds of loyalty and purpose are tested.

When murder sends them fleeing to Troy, danger only brings Paris and Helen closer together—in love, in fury, and in the will to survive. If Zarek wants a war, Paris and Helen are ready to ignite it.

Excerpt

“And you are a fool if you think you have no power,” I tell her. “You are the power here. They bend to you. If you asked, this room would kneel for you.”

“You would not kneel,” Helen says. Her throat bobs, as if the breath is caught there.

My blade—her throat—I can hardly breathe. I am so, so close to her now.

I could do it here, instead of dragging her all the way to Troy. Set my knife just—there.

“Would you?” Helen’s chest heaves just slightly, the shallow rise and fall the only sign that she is as caught in this moment as I am.

“I kneel for no one,” I tell her.

Not since Troy.

Her cheeks are a soft pink, maybe from the whiskey, or maybe the opiate intoxicating her is something more—something strange and tenuous and unexpected.

I lean close to her. Take the drink from her hand, tip it back, and down it, grinning at her as I do. I can imagine, instead, Helen of the gods on her knees for me. Throat tipped up, eyes trained on me. Begging.

“Do you want to know something?” Her voice is quiet, so quiet I have to lean in closer.

“Do you want to tell me?” I shoot back.

“I am going to die tonight.” She says it with a smile on her face, something desperate and dark but something real.

My own heart thunders against my rib cage, so hard it is almost painful.

“And who would dare kill the princess?” I ask.

Because she can’t know.

Can she?

Helen is still smiling, but the look in her eyes is distant now. She is far away from me, far out over the stormy blue sea beyond the windows.

“What is it you want, Paris?” she asks.

You, I almost answer. At my mercy.

“An introduction,” I tell her after a beat. “To your father.”

Disappointment flashes in her face, sharp and clear before her expression smooths over, and then she steps back toward the great windows looking out over the sea, alone on the symbol carved into the marble floor, a Z and an L, tilted and interwoven. Zarek and Lena. Their family, their godship, their love for each other, immortalized in marble.

How fitting that Helen will die on the anniversary of the bomb that started it all.

They will crowd Helen soon, but now, just briefly, she stands alone, framed by windows that open to the yawning mouth of sea and storm. She looks almost wistful.

I am going to die tonight.

What is it you are planning, Helen of the gods, or what is it you have learned? What bloody nightmare will these families unleash tonight?

It is the right moment for something, though. The moment Zarek will call for everyone’s attention, when Milos will descend the steps and kneel in front of Helen, ring in hand. When she will pretend to be surprised, ecstatic, perhaps a little teary but still somehow perfectly composed. She will smile for the first time tonight—other than the smile she sneaked me when I stole the whiskey from her soft, perfect hand—and the guests in the room will fall even more in love with her than they already are.

It is Zarek’s moment.

Except it is also Helen’s.

Except Helen is alone for a breath of time that lasts too long, and I smell something faint, something out of place, something devastatingly familiar.

I flick my lighter open out of habit, but the soft comfort of its click cannot calm me. Because this smell, it is an acrid smell, like flame, like—

Bomb.

I am moving before I can call it out; I am moving on instinct and instinct alone; I am faster than guard and god alike. Because Helen is mine.

I am hurtling straight into Helen of the mansion, Helen of the island, Helen of the gods, my body colliding with hers, just as the windows behind us explode in a shower of glass.

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About the Author

Mary E. Roach is a former early childhood teacher who now writes across genres and age categories. WE ARE THE MATCH is Mary’s debut adult romance. Her debut YA mystery, Better Left Buried, was published by Disney Hyperion in 2024, and her follow-up YA novel, Seven for a Secret, will be published in September 2025. 

When she is not writing stories for and about powerful women, Mary enjoys running, teaching martial arts, and disappearing into the wilderness. Mary lives in St. Paul with her fiancé and their very disagreeable cat, Lulu.

Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of the book. This will end August 29, 2025. Only open for readers in the US and Canada.

Spotlight: Skylark by Megan Michelle

Being the first female Navy SEAL is no easy job, but someone's got to dismantle the patriarchy. Rachel Ryker, call sign ‘Skylark,’ can outrun and outgun just about anybody, and with her second in command, Christopher Williams, by her side, she’s practically unstoppable. Christopher would follow Rachel to hell and back… or maybe just to the Middle East. When a top-secret malware code is stolen from the CIA, Rachel and Christopher lead their SEAL team through the Middle East in an attempt to recover it. 

They both have their own reasons for fighting, but as the team gets closer to finding the stolen malware, Rachel discovers that the man they're looking for may be closer to her than she thinks. Will Rachel’s obsession with completing their mission override her common sense and cause her to lose sight of what is really important- keeping women and children safe from the oppressive patriarchy they are all living in?

With secrets, pride, and a strict no-fraternization policy keeping them apart, falling in love would mean sacrificing everything Rachel and Christopher have worked for. But when Rachel gets injured in combat, everything changes. Now Rachel will have to choose: does her devotion to the Navy outweigh her love for Christopher?

Excerpt

“Can you get people out of Afghanistan?” Shabana sounded hesitant.

“Like, put them on a plane, or do you want them to be able to legally stay wherever they get off the plane?” Rachel asked.

“Preferably the second option,” Shabana said.

“That’s more difficult.” Rachel looked at her quizzically. “Who?”

“My sister, Pari.” She paused, uncertain, before the words spilled out of her. “My brother-in-law raped her. Then my husband forced her to marry him when he found out she was with child.”

“Your husband forced her?”

“Our father died when we were children. He was her closest male family member,” Shabana explained. “From his perspective, he was doing the right thing and protecting her. It’s better this way, for her reputation, the family’s reputation.”

“That man is going to keep treating her terribly.” 

“Yes, I assure you that he is. He leaves her home sometimes for weeks on end, never with enough food . . .” Shabana took a steadying breath and stared straight into Rachel’s eyes. “Can you help her get out of the country to someplace safe?”

 “Is she being abused?” That small tidbit about being left without food was bad enough, but Rachel couldn’t commandeer a plane whenever she wanted.

“Depends on who you ask,” Shabana said sadly.

Rachel knew domestic violence was prevalent in Afghanistan and rarely, if ever, prosecuted. Some international reports indicated that as many as eighty to ninety percent of women in Afghanistan were the victims of physical abuse at the hands of their husbands and fathers. “He hits her if she doesn’t do what he says?” Rachel tried.

“Yes.” Shabana nodded. “Do you consider that abuse?” Her voice was shaking, and her arms were wrapped tightly around her stomach as though she were trying to hold herself together.

Every muscle in Rachel’s body tensed. “What about her child? Or children?” Rachel asked.

“She has two young children. Girls, ages five and three,” Shabana said.

Rachel nodded. “Are they in Khost?” A plan was slowly taking shape in her mind.

“Yes.”

“I’ll need her address and a date and time when I can pick her up.”

“Her husband is traveling,” Shabana said. “He’s gone until Sunday.”

“Call her now,” Rachel said. “Ask her when I can come pick up her and her children. They’ll need to pack bags, whatever they absolutely need to bring. They should take as few belongings as possible.”

Yamna walked over to them, having overheard their conversation. “Use my telephone. We don’t want it in the call log on your cell phone that you spoke with her right before she vanished,” Yamna told Shabana. “Call her now.”

“Are you sure?” Shabana asked. Her eyes were filling with tears as she looked back and forth between Yamna and Rachel.

“You will likely never see her again, Shabana.” Rachel noted. “You’ll have to say your goodbyes over the phone unless you’re going with her.”

Shabana nodded and a tear rolled down her cheek. She went to the kitchen to make the phone call.

“Anyone else want a flight out of here?” Rachel asked.

“No. We cannot leave,” Yashfa said.

“Too many children relying on us,” Yamna added. “Besides, our husbands and our lives aren’t terrible. Not great, but not terrible. Much better you help those who truly need help.”

After finishing her phone call to her sister, Shabana said, “She can be ready in one hour, and her husband will be home on Sunday in time to escort her to midday prayers.” Her voice shook, though she seemed to be vacillating between grief at saying goodbye to her sister and joy at the hope of Pari’s new life.

“One hour?” Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“That’s when she can be ready. She’s packing now.” 

Rachel nodded and pulled out her phone to text Ryan over their encrypted messaging app.

 “What?” Shabana asked, staring at Rachel wide-eyed with hopeful desperation.

“I’m figuring it out,” Rachel assured her. “So you know though, the newspapers will report that she and her children are dead. There will be some story about how she was a victim of the Taliban. It will be framed in such a way that will cause outrage from the international community and put pressure on the Afghan government to stand up to the Taliban and Al-Qaeda.”

“But you’re not a spy?” Yashfa sniffed.

“No, of course not! I’m obviously an academic researcher at Princeton University!” Rachel insisted. Her phone buzzed a minute later with Ryan’s response.

 Rachel looked up from her phone. “Shabana, call your sister back and tell her I’ll be at her house in ninety minutes. Make sure she doesn’t tell anyone.”

Shabana nodded and ran back to the kitchen to use the phone again.

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About the Author

Megan Michelle writes dark romance for the fearless women who are ready to reclaim their power and confront the shadows of their past. Her stories blend the raw emotions of military life, the strength of feminism, and the passion of forbidden love, all while guiding readers on a journey of self-discovery and healing. Through dark romance, she explores the complexity of love, power, and identity. Her stories invite you to dive deep into the hearts of women who don’t just survive—they thrive, reclaiming their power and rewriting their stories on their own terms.

Stay in touch with this author by subscribing to her website's newsletter and following her on Instagram.

Spotlight: Secret Keeper by Victoria Pinter

House of Morgan

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 07-29-2025

Publisher: Love in a book

Anthony Morgan is the last man I should ever work for.
Too bad I don’t have a choice.

It started with an email from Jennifer Gonzales.
It ended with me walking into a boardroom face-to-face with the man who once loved her.
The same man who looks at me like I’m a threat to everything he built.

And maybe I am.

He’s cold. Controlled.
Italian billionaire in an Armani suit, hiding bruises behind bank accounts.
He thinks I’m still loyal to my former best friend—the woman who broke his brother’s heart and stole something she should’ve never touched.

But I’m not here for Belle.
I’m here to do a job.

Security.
Protection.
No distractions.

Except Anthony Morgan is a distraction.

His eyes strip me bare.
His voice is a seduction I never saw coming.
And every time we fight, it feels like foreplay.

Getting too close to him is a mistake.
Falling for him?
Dangerous.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from war zones and heartbreak…
It’s that the most forbidden fire burns the hottest.

And Anthony Morgan is pure flame.

Excerpt

Chapter One

Stepping into the lion's den was supposed to be a metaphor, but the reality hit me like a freight train as I crossed the threshold into the Morgan boardroom. The sharp echo of my heels against the stark, polished marble floor sounded like a countdown, each click amplifying the tension that hung in the air. The room was coldly immaculate, a showcase of the Morgan empire’s power and wealth, yet nothing could compare to the chill radiating from Anthony Morgan’s gaze. His icy stare halted me in my tracks, a force so intense it left me breathless and disoriented. I could almost feel the temperature drop as he scrutinized me, an intruder daring to invade his territory.

I had anticipated this meeting would be challenging. I’d run through every possible scenario in my mind, envisioning resolutions ranging from a simple dismissal to an outright ejection. But facing Anthony’s wrathful glare, I realized how woefully unprepared I truly was for the raw hostility emanating from him. His anger was palpable, a heatwave of intensity that made me question my sanity for even stepping foot in this place. The man I’d never met until today looked ready to hurl me out the window—or worse.

I should have backed out. I’d sensed the mistake the moment his assistant sent the email. But the Morgans were titans, their influence sprawling across the globe. Their business meant success, and failure had never been an option for me. So, I donned my best suit and waded into this viper pit, determined. Now, Anthony’s glacial eyes challenged me to speak first. I envisioned all the ways this could end badly: defenestration, a cement bath, or worse yet, sleeping with the fishes like in those old mobster flicks. Sure, I was being dramatic, but those eyes could freeze lava. I couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the thought of Anthony Morgan’s glare being so potent it could freeze a cup of coffee in seconds. If he ever tried bartending, his signature drink would undoubtedly be the "Frostbite Frappuccino," guaranteed to give customers brain freeze and a shiver down their spine.

Despite the icy atmosphere, I extended my hand and mustered my best smile. “Mr. Morgan, I’m Em Fletcher.”

The air in the room felt thick, almost oppressive, as I stepped inside. The polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft light, reflecting the tension that hung like a shadow between us. Anthony Morgan sat there, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a fortress of muscle and indifference. I could almost hear the gears grinding in his mind as he assessed me, sizing me up like a prizefighter before the bell rang.

I couldn't shake off the mental image of Anthony Morgan attempting to crack a smile. It seemed as likely as a penguin doing stand-up comedy, entertaining, yet highly improbable. Did he ever crack a smile? It would probably cause a solar eclipse from the sheer rarity of the occasion.

“Em Fletcher,” I said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I’m here for the meeting.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher a riddle wrapped in an enigma. The silence stretched between us, thickening with each passing second. I could feel the weight of my past choices pressing down on me and my history with Belle and the Morgans, the loyalty I had once sworn to her.

Who knew that facing down one of the most powerful figures in the business world could also feel like being trapped in an episode of "The Office," complete with awkward silences and exaggerated expressions?

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About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author, Victoria Pinder grew up in Irish Catholic Boston before moving to the Miami sun though she left that for a while to live in New Orleans, Denver and now Pittsburgh. She started single but the husband and then children joined in on the fun. She’s worked in engineering, then lawyer, then teacher, and finally novelist. She refused to one day turn 50 and realize she had nothing but her career and hours at a desk.

During all this time and travel, she always wrote stories to entertain herself or calm down. Her parents are practical minded people demanding a job, and Victoria spent too many years living other people’s expectations, but when she sat down to see what skill she had that matched what she enjoyed doing, writing became so obvious. The middle school year book when someone wrote in it that one day she’d be a writer made sense when she turned thirty.

She’s always been amazing, adventurous and assured. It’s what gets her through the day.

Her website is www.victoriapinder.com where you can get a free read NOW. Please write as she loves writing back to her fans.

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Website:  http://www.victoriapinder.com

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Twitter: @victoriapinder

Spotlight: Boss of the Year by Nicole French

Release Date: August 15

AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED

He’s her brooding, off-limits boss. She’s his brother’s newest flame…and the weakness he’s craved for years.

She never expected to come face-to-face with Lucas Lyons—the grumpy, gorgeous CEO of the entire Lyons empire and the older brother of her long-forgotten crush. 

Once upon a time, Marie had been just the invisible girl in the back of the estate kitchen. Now? She’s confident, capable, and no longer easy to ignore.

Especially not by Lucas.

He sees her now. And it’s a problem.

***

Lucas Lyons—head of the Lyons family empire, perfectionist, older brother to the man who used to make Marie’s teenage heart flutter—sees his beautiful personal chef as a complication. A distraction he doesn’t need. A girl he has no business wanting.

Especially now that his younger brother is suddenly very interested in Marie himself.

Lucas knows she’s too young. Too bold. Too tempting.

But the closer they get, the more dangerous the line between forbidden and inevitable becomes.

For a man like Lucas, giving in means losing control. And falling for Marie Zola?

Might just ruin them both.

*Boss of the Year is a Sabrina-inspired boss-employee romance that does NOT include cheating, but does include a lot of angst. If you’re not up for drama, this isn’t your cup of tea. 

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Meet Nicole French

Nicole French is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She's also a hopeless romantic, Springsteen fanatic, and total bookworm. When not writing, she is hanging out with her family, playing soccer with the rest of the thirty-plus crowd in Seattle, or going on dates with her husband. In her spare time, she likes to go running or practice the piano, but never seems to do either one of these things as much as she should.

Keep up with Nicole French and receive your FREE copy of one of her books when you subscribe to her newsletter here 

For more information on Nicole French and her books visit: https://www.nicolefrenchromance.com/

Connect with Nicole French: https://www.nicolefrenchromance.com/links