Spotlight: Push Back by Tonya Lester

It’s one of the hardest balancing acts in life — being kind without becoming invisible. In Push Back: Live, Love, and Work with Others Without Losing Yourself, therapist and writer Tonya Lester offers a compassionate, deeply practical guide for people who want to communicate clearly without sacrificing connection.

Through her years as a psychotherapist, Lester has seen how avoidance and people-pleasing take root early and quietly shape the way we relate to others. In this book, she unpacks the emotional and social conditioning that leads many women to silence themselves, and she shows how to change those patterns through awareness, intention, and practice. Blending clinical insight with warmth and humor, Push Back helps readers learn to identify their needs, express them confidently, and handle resistance with calm and clarity. It’s not about winning arguments — it’s about showing up fully in every part of life, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Excerpt

It’s OK to be Difficult

Years ago, I read a magazine story about an experienced climber who nearly died falling down a mountain. She’d forgotten the crucial step of double-checking her anchor knots before she started the climb. It turned out this climber had carefully checked her husband’s rope while neglecting her own. I imagine this realization flashing through her mind as she tumbled, terrified, down the slope.

As a couples therapist in New York City, I was struck by this article, not as a cautionary tale of mountaineering safety, but instead as a reminder of the gender dynamics I see normalized in relationships. Often, women don’t even realize the imperceptible descent they take as they disappear into relationships, suppressing their own needs and desires while caring for those of others.

Had this climber expected her husband to check her ropes as she had checked his? Had she asked him to? Or had she trusted herself to tie her own knots correctly but thought that he needed extra looking after? At what point in their relationship did she start checking his climbing ropes? What were their interpersonal dynamics in other areas of their lives? Was he like a child, unable to take care of himself? Or was he considered the talent and she the manager, in charge of ensuring he had everything he needed to succeed? Whatever else was going on in their marriage, she must not have believed she could take proper care of herself and also stay in the relationship, because soon after the fall, she filed for divorce.

Women often come to my office to discuss how they might get their husbands to start helping with childcare. Or to ask how they might better tolerate a bullying boss or backstabbing colleagues. Sometimes they want to know how to make their thirty-year-old child get a job and move out of the house. Or how to deal with in-laws who come over unannounced again and again, despite requests to call first. The list of behaviors these women tolerate goes on and on and could all fall under the umbrella of other people behaving badly.

While these women want to make changes, they’re worried about coming across as mean, cold, or rude. They’d like to start speaking up, setting boundaries, and pushing back, but they don’t want to make anyone angry. They don’t want anyone to think they’re being difficult.

“Why not?” I ask. “What’s so bad about being difficult?”

In Push Back, I want to help you learn that seeking harmony for its own sake is a trap. That there’s no winning in making everyone else happy at your own expense. And that in nearly every situation, it is within your power to make positive changes. Truly intractable situations are rare. But to change your circumstances, you must be willing to push back.

Still, change is hard. There’s going to be resistance from the people around us who like things better when we’re tending to their needs while neglecting our own. In attempting to break free from these patterns, we must learn to challenge our thinking and conditioning, behave differently in our relationships and in our lives, and be prepared to deal with the backlash that will inevitably come when we push back against the status quo. The cold truth is that the relationships that are most painful for you are likely working just fine for someone else. As the saying goes, if you want to make an omelet, you have to break some eggs.

Strong, uncompromising women are both admired and reviled. We’re taught to applaud women who lean in, speak truth to power, and take no prisoners. “She’s a total badass” is a high compliment. Slogans like “Breathe Fire” and “Only Weak Men Fear Powerful Women” adorn T-shirts, coffee mugs, and backpacks. Infants wriggle around in pink onesies that read, “The Future Is Female.” But all too often, these ideals — speaking up and pushing back when the situation is unfair — fail to make the leap from merchandise to our daily lives.

In both our personal and our professional relationships, women are encouraged by our culture to be easy — to minimize our worth and contributions to avoid seeming arrogant, to subordinate our own needs and desires to preserve goodwill, and to make life as comfortable as possible for the people in our lives. Instead of learning to speak up, we’re taught to manage others’ behavior. Instead of embracing healthy conflict, we’re encouraged to avoid conflict at all costs. Instead of leaving unsatisfying relationships, we’re told to tough it out, give it more time, and try harder.

But continually subordinating one’s own needs comes at a high cost. The necessity to take care of oneself doesn’t go dormant just because it’s ignored. A 2022 paper from the National Bureau of Economic Research points out that while women’s rights and autonomy have improved over the past half century, their self-reported well-being and happiness have declined. Depending on your political views, this might seem like an indication that conservatives have it right: Women’s work and men’s work are supposed to be separate, and men’s place is in the economic, political, and intellectual spheres while women’s place is in the home, family, and community spheres.

But the progress made isn’t the cause of women’s declining happiness. Instead, it’s the lack of societal support for working parents, inflexible expectations on the parts of employers, spouses who aren’t carrying their weight at home, and, most insidiously, the myth that women can solve all these problems with enough elbow grease. As journalist Anne Helen Peterson has described it, “This situation [divorce] is complicated by the fact that bourgeois [middle to upper class, mainly white] women have been taught that everything, whether the pay gap or enduring domestic labor discrepancies, can be fixed through hard work: hard communication work, hard organizational work, hard therapy work. If they just put in the hours...everything would work out.”

As a result, we twist ourselves into pretzels to make life work for everyone around us. Then we wonder why we’re burned-out and unhappy.

Does this sound like you? Do you work hard and still feel you aren’t working hard enough? Does it sometimes feel as if you’re responsible for everyone and everything — your partner’s happiness, home’s comfort, kids’ success, maybe even the needs of your friends and coworkers, the success of a group project, or the security of your parents?

I have over two decades of experience working with women who feel stuck, dissatisfied, and frustrated in their relationships, in their careers, and with their friends and families. In case after case, I’ve found myself saying things like “What would happen if you told him you didn’t want to?” or “What if you didn’t respond until the next day?” or “What if you said this situation isn’t working for you anymore and now you need to make a change?” or even “Just because someone shows up at your door doesn’t mean you have to let them in your house.” Usually, I’m met with wide eyes, sometimes accompanied by headshaking or nervous laughter and an unequivocal “I could never say that.”

I know it’s not easy, especially at the beginning. For a long time, this wasn’t how I myself operated. I struggled to speak up when something was bothering me. I tried to manage the emotions of others instead of being forthright and honest and trusting other people to manage themselves. I didn’t want anyone to be upset with me. I worried excessively about making mistakes and settled for easy stagnation instead of challenging growth. Yet no matter how much I tried to maintain control, I felt increasingly detached, like my life had gotten off course. Even though I might say to clients that the discomfort of authenticity in our relationships is better than the discomfort of hiding oneself, tolerating unkind behavior, or staying when you really want to go, I often settled for the latter.

The possibility of creating conflict with the people I loved and then tolerating their unhappiness or disapproval seemed excruciating to me, so I didn’t speak up. I didn’t tell the whole truth. And I didn’t advocate for myself. I didn’t want to appear needy, weak, or demanding. I didn’t want to push back.

Then one morning, I woke up and thought, I am the mountain climber. I am tumbling down the mountain. I’m not taking care of myself. I felt I couldn’t be in my marriage and still be true to myself. I thought our patterns were too entrenched, my conflict avoidance and people-pleasing ways too intense, for me to be in any partnership — not just with my husband — without abandoning myself.

So I changed. I took responsibility for my part in our dynamic, started asserting myself and leaning into conflict, and insisted on the shifts I needed to see happen in order to feel loved and connected. The lessons I teach in this book were hard-won. I know how challenging it can be to make changes, but I also know how rewarding and life altering it is to have done so.

Excerpted from the book Push Back: Live, Love, and Work with Others Without Losing Yourself, by Tonya Lester. Copyright ©2025 by Tonya Lester. Printed with permission from New World Library — www.newworldlibrary.com.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Audible | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Tonya Lester is a Brooklyn-based psychotherapist, writer, and speaker who specializes in helping people build stronger relationships through self-awareness and communication. Her Psychology Today blog, “Staying Sane Inside Insanity,” reaches over a million readers and explores emotional balance, boundaries, and personal growth. Her work has appeared in Newsweek, The Guardian, Fatherly, and Well + Good, and she regularly consults with other clinicians on authenticity and assertiveness in therapy. You can find her at her website, or follow her on Instagram and TikTok.

Spotlight: A Quarterback for Christmas by Linda West

Publisher: Independent

Publication Date: October 1, 2025

Genre: Holiday Romance

He's Buffalo's hometown hero. She's the one who got away. When fate and a little Christmas magic bring them back together, love might just score the biggest comeback of all.

When Buffalo’s hometown quarterback Nash Jordan gets traded back just before Christmas, his career—and his heart—are both on thin ice. A lingering injury threatens his future, until help arrives in the most unexpected form: Eden Landers, the woman he never stopped loving.

Eden’s a talented chef with a hint of magic in her kitchen, and healing others is what she does best. But moving into Nash’s guest house to help him recover stirs up more than old memories. Between snowstorms, laughter, and late-night meals, love begins to simmer again.

Can they trust each other enough for a second chance? Or will fear and fame keep them apart once more?

Heartwarming, wholesome, and full of Christmas cheer, A Quarterback for Christmas is a cozy holiday romance about love, forgiveness, and finding your way home.

Excerpt

The rain had just started when Nash Jordan stepped off the practice field, helmet in hand and sweat soaking through his gray workout shirt. His leg ached every time he shifted his weight, a dull reminder of the ACL tear that still hadn’t fully healed. He told himself it was nothing—it had to be nothing—but the tightness in his jaw said otherwise.

“Jordan,” one of the junior trainers called. “Coach wants to see you.”

Nash nodded and headed down the long hallway toward the coach’s office. The walls were lined with framed photos of better days—division titles, playoff wins, smiling faces. For a split second, he imagined one of those photos showing him, wearing the Rams jersey with a championship ring on his finger.

The coach was waiting behind his desk, arms folded and expression unreadable. “How’s the leg?”

“I’ve been better,” Nash admitted with a half shrug. “Probably just a minor flare-up. I’ll be back to full speed real soon.”

The coach took a breath. “You know we believe in you, Nash. You’re one of the best quarterbacks we’ve had come through here.”

Nash gave a small smile. “Thank you, Coach. I appreciate that.”

“That’s why this is hard.” The coach paused. “We just traded you to Buffalo.”

Nash blinked. “Buffalo?”

“They need a backup for Allen. It’s a solid deal—next year’s first and second round picks. You’ll get a fresh start.”

Nash stared at the floor as the words sank in. Buffalo. Snow, cold, his old high school stadium. And him—once a top draft pick—now a backup. “Right,” he said quietly. “Buffalo.”

The coach stood and offered his hand. “You’re going to have a great career, son. I know it.”

– Excerpted from A Quarterback for Christmas by Linda West, Linda West, 2025. Reprinted with permission.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Audible

About the Author 

Linda West is a best-selling Amazon author in fiction and non-fiction. She lives in the snowy wonderland of upstate New York with her husband and magical cat. 

Her latest book is the holiday romance, A Quarterback for Christmas. You can visit her website at http://www.morningmayan.com

Spotlight: Not You Again by Erin La Rosa

Two 30-something singles stuck in a time loop are forced to relive the worst days of their lives, so they team up to find a way to break the cycle. For fans of Palm Springs and Oona Out of Order, NOT YOU AGAIN offers a fresh new take on the Groundhog Day story.

In Julian, California, every day is April 22. Most people have accepted the loop—after all, reliving the same day every day, there’s nothing to lose. Day drinking until you pass out? Yes. Partner swapping? Why not.

But Carly has woken up at her dad’s funeral exactly 238 times, and she wants out. She doesn’t want to waste her life away reliving the worst day ever in the small town she always hated visiting. Carly wants to go back to writing film scripts in LA; she’s determined to find a way to break the cycle.

She discovers an unexpected kindred spirit in Adam, the mortician she met at her dad’s funeral. April 22 was also one of the worst days of his life: his fiancée admitted to cheating on him with his best friend. Every day Adam wakes up on April 22 to his ex-fiancée's admission, starting each day with a breakup. April 22 was supposed to be his last day working for his parents at the funeral home, and the start of his new life as an astronomer. Adam is a man of science, and like Carly, he believes there must be a way out of the time loop.

Together, Carly and Adam team up to find out what’s causing the time loop. And in trying to find a way out, they also find their way to each other.

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Carly

Day 1

Carly Hart was what one former friend had called “an emotional basket case.” She cried openly, in public, with very little concern for who saw. And it wasn’t just big moments that caused her to tear up—a breakup, losing out on a job, having to fly out from LAX—but the little things, too. Like when she tripped on a sidewalk crack and accidentally squished a caterpillar, or the time she went to take a shower after a workout and the water came out cold instead of hot. Carly felt deeply without much effort. Crying was cathartic, natural and part of her way of life.

But it had been a week since her dad died and still, not a single tear. She’d imagined his funeral would be the thing that finally broke her. Yet, here she was, sitting in front of his casket, and . . . nothing. Flower arrangements lined the walls, white folding chairs were arranged in neat rows and a blown-up photo of her dad from thirty years ago with a film camera on one shoulder and a four-year-old Carly on the other was placed in front of the coffin. The evidence of her dad’s departure was all around, but still, none of this felt real.

Cry, she told herself, just like you’d write into a movie. Yes, if this were a scene she were drafting, the heroine would emit deep, guttural sobs, the camera would pan out and the screen would fade to black.

But this wasn’t one of her screenplays. There would be no swell of orchestral music, and no comforting hugs from a secondary character, apparently. Because no one else was there—the room was empty, except for her. Was she actually going to be the lone attendee at her dad’s service? Was this how Bruce Hart would be remembered?

A floorboard creaked and Carly stood, hopeful that a friend of her father’s had arrived, but it was just the funeral director.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said.

Adam. His name was Adam. Now she remembered. He was probably in his thirties, tall and lanky in a fitted blue shirt with a blazer and loose tie. His floppy red hair fell just abovethe sharp lines of his jaw. “It’s fine,” she said, but her voice was much softer thanshe’d ever heard it. She cleared her throat and tried again.

“Fine.”

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” she managed to respond.

“We’ll move outside in about twenty minutes, if that’s okay with you.” He clasped his hands, and she registered how his brown eyes had f lecks of honey in them.

Carly blinked. Outside, as in the burial. She gave a quick glance at the coffin, then studied her shoes. “Sure,” she said.

Though there was no way she’d be able to watch her dad get lowered into the ground. She just couldn’t.

Her eyes began to mist. Was this the moment she’d finally cry?

But then Carly’s knees buckled just enough for her to sway. In a f lash, Adam was next to her with his arm wrapped around her waist. “I’ve got you,” his tone was as firm as his grasp at her side.

He maneuvered her into a chair, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the nearness of him. Who even was this guy?

Why was he here, at her side, instead of anyone else in her life?

She didn’t want to be in this room, let alone be taken care of by someone who was about to bury her dad. She had a hard time getting the words, “I’m fine,” out, but she’d done it.

Instead of taking the hint and leaving, Adam opened a bottle of water that had been strategically tucked under a seat and handed it to her. “Here.”

Her hands were shaky, though, and the water dropped and began to spill all over the f loor. He deftly picked up the bottle and found a cloth to place over the spill.

Carly should’ve apologized, offered to get towels, or anything other than what she did next. “Please just leave,” her lips trembled over the words.

He stopped cleaning, looked up, and seemed to register her words. “Of course.” He stood, and his expression turned firm. “Just don’t step in the water. I don’t want you to fall—”

“I don’t need you to save me.” Her eyes narrowed at him. Carly understood that she was lashing out at Adam because of her grief, and the fact that she forgot to eat that morning probably didn’t help either. But she also didn’t care. This was her dad’s funeral. No one else had shown up. And she didn’t want to be comforted by this man she barely knew. She didn’t want his hand at her waist, or the water, or him. She wanted to get the hell away from this room.

His mouth opened to say something, but then a door down the hall opened, followed by footsteps.

“Excuse me.” Adam walked away from her all too quickly and approached the hallway. Carly’s heart anxiously beat again—finally, maybe this was someone to see her dad?

But no.

“Shireen?” Adam’s voice was surprised.

“Can we talk?” The woman attached to the voice appeared—also tall, but curvy, with the most gorgeous dark curls Carly had ever seen. Her expression, though, was concerned.

“I’m working.” He tilted his head toward the room where Carly sat. His work was the business of burying her dad.

“It’s important,” Shireen said quietly.

Adam gave Carly a genuinely apologetic look, then left.

She swallowed down a lump that had lodged in her throat.

She knew she’d been unfair to Adam and later she’d regret her words, but she was also relieved to be alone again. Carly approached the coffin and placed her palm on the closed lid. In there, Bruce wore the navy-blue suit and tie she’d picked out. Pinned on his jacket lapel was the Star Wars enamel pin she’d gotten him for his sixtieth birthday. He’d forever be sixty-four.

Carly studied her fingers instead of imagining him inside the box. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, she realized. She wanted to explain that this was all just too much for her—too intense, and awful. Maybe she could come back tomorrow and visit the grave, when she was ready? But that was when she heard them fighting.

“What do you want me to say, Adam? I fucked up! I slept with him. I’m sorry,” Shireen shouted.

“Keep your voice down!” Adam’s own raw with emotion.

Carly frowned. What was she overhearing?

“I don’t know what else to say!” the woman exclaimed. “I just need to know if you’ll forgive me.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Carly realized that this was a private moment between two people, and she had no business listening in. She should definitely cover her ears or something.

Problem was, Carly was nosy.

“What did you expect me to do? You haven’t paid attention to me in years! We’re basically coworkers.”

“Coworkers don’t have sex, Shireen.”

“And neither do we!”

Carly slapped a hand across her mouth to keep in whatever noise was about to tumble out. Instead of sobs, she choked back incredulous giggles. How was it that on the worst day of her life, she was overhearing some of the best dialogue? Her eyes went wide as she focused on the coffin. “What do you think, Dad? Movie-worthy?”

But she was met with silence, because of course she was. For a moment, she’d been able to pretend like her dad was still there. Like they were having one of their old brainstorming sessions, where she’d rattle off a half-baked idea that he’d punch up. Who was she going to spitball with now?

She uncovered her mouth. “I miss you.”

The words came out easily because they were pure truth. She missed him. And in that moment, she knew where she finally needed to go.

The Last Showing movie theater was located off Main Street in the small, sleepy town of Julian, California. When she’d taken the key from her dress pocket and opened the doors, Carly wasn’t sure what to expect. Her dad had sent photos of the renovations he’d done, but to see the theater in real life was . . . surreal.

The place had been closed for a week, but the red-and-gold-flecked carpet was spotless. The warm white walls held framed posters of upcoming and past film releases. Neon stars dangled from wires on the ceiling. The food counter had been wiped clean, and the glass cases that held rows and rows of candy were stacked and ready to sell. If she’d wanted, Carly could throw open the doors, turn on the overhead marquee and wait to see if anyone came in. That was probably what Bruce did every day. Used to do.

Instead, she went behind the snack counter, tore open a package of Milk Duds and dumped the chewy morsels into an empty popcorn bucket. Then she ripped open a pack of gummy worms and let them fall in. She added Skittles, Swedish Fish, Twizzlers, M&Ms, Reese’s Pieces and mini Butterfinger Bites until the bucket was nearly full. Her dad called this a candy salad, their favorite treat.

Bruce also liked to add hot, buttery popcorn on top so everything melted together. He wasn’t there to tell her that, though.

He. Wasn’t. There.

Carly looked up from her tub of sugar. A “questionable” pot of joy any other day, but the thing felt as heavy as a brick in her hands. Her dad’s whole world had been movies. He’d gotten his first job as a PA on the set of a low-budget indie horror film when he was eighteen. But after forty-some-odd years of working his way up to cinematographer, he’d wanted a change of pace. He could’ve taken a cushy role as an adjunct professor at USC’s film school—a job he’d been offered. Instead, he’d done the least sensible thing imaginable: taken his savings, uprooted his Los Angeles life and bought a decrepit movie theater in a small town three hours away.

“I want to build something special—something of my own,” he’d excitedly told Carly over a greasy pancake brunch at the Tallyrand diner in Burbank, just a few blocks from his house and her apartment. He’d already begun renovations on the theater. “You’ll see, Carly girl!”

But she didn’t see, and neither did anyone in Julian. Because as Carly recently discovered, Bruce was in massive piles of debt. He’d taken out more loans than movie tickets sold. An exaggeration, but still . . . his gamble hadn’t paid off.

A few weeks ago, her dad had asked that she come visit so they could make his famous candy salad and watch the total solar eclipse together. He’d lived full-time in Julian for a year, and she hadn’t taken the three-hour drive down to see him. But Carly had no intention of coming to watch the eclipse—even if it was “rare and cinematic,” as her dad said. Because if she traveled to Julian, then she’d know for certain that he was never returning to Los Angeles. So she’d declined the invite, hoping he’d finally understand that his leaving had been the wrong decision.

Of course, neither of them knew that seeing her would be his dying wish. Carly thought putting together her dad’s favorite movie snack would ease her pain. She thought that by coming to the theater she’d get some kind of closure. But as she looked around the empty lobby, she couldn’t help but feel complete and utter rage.

If he hadn’t moved to this cookie-cutter small town to pursue his half-baked dream, Bruce would still be alive. If he and her mother hadn’t had their first date in a movie theater, maybe none of this would’ve happened in the first place. Why were both of her parents gone from this world when so many other people got to keep theirs for longer? 

The bucket shook in Carly’s unsteady hands. Being here without him was too excruciating. For the first time since arriving in Julian, she finally understood her dad was really gone. Her throat burned. She couldn’t breathe. The hot, bubbling sorrow that had built inside her blow by blow finally tumbled out as a scream. She clenched her jaw, hurled the bucket of candy as hard as she could and it exploded against a framed poster.

Carly let out a loud sob. The flood of tears was so intense that the tightness in her throat couldn’t compete with the force of her own pain. Her body swayed from the grief, and she collapsed to the floor. Her dad, that clever, sweet bear of a man, was gone.

After what felt like hours but was probably more like minutes, Carly had no more tears left. So when the front door squeaked open and she spied Hank—the janitor her dad had told her about—she couldn’t so much as fake a hello. Hank looked at her, then at the trail of spilled candy.

“I’ll clean this up.” Her hands instinctively went to the floor.

“Let me,” Hank said as he approached. Why hadn’t Hank come to her dad’s funeral? Was Julian just filled with soulless, rude people?

But then Adam popped into her head. He hadn’t been rude. He’d tried to help. So, naturally, she’d gone and chased him off.

“You go outside,” Hank added. “Get some fresh air. See the eclipse. Your dad would’ve wanted that.”

The eclipse. Yes, Carly had forgotten about the total eclipse that was happening because, well, her dad. She wordlessly agreed to let Hank do his job, and then numbly moved toward the exit.

Outside the theater doors, the sun was low in the sky and filled Main Street with warm light. A preschooler rode a scooter down the sidewalk as her mother chased along behind.

The child’s delighted squeals blended with Carly’s own sniffling. A chunk of her life had ceased to exist, but somehow everyone else carried on like that didn’t matter. As she glanced down the street, there were a handful of people in eclipse glasses, and kids lying on their backs with their faces toward the sky, delighting in the novelty. The whole scene would be quaint if she weren’t in mourning.

The truth that Carly didn’t belong in Julian hit her like a punch. She belonged in Burbank, where she’d grown up and had a studio apartment waiting for her. The sooner she could wrap up her dad’s affairs, the sooner she could get back home and leave behind the reminders that he was gone.

Home. The thought made Carly slip her phone out of the pocket of her black midi dress. There was a text from Daniel, her closest friend. She didn’t have a ton of those.

DANIEL: Call me, okay?

She would call him, eventually.

Then she clicked into her email. Being a screenwriter was a mostly solitary endeavor. So when she saw the new email with the simple subject line of “script,” she felt compelled to open it.

FROM: therealmarilyn@wahoo.com

TO: CarlyHartWrites@tmail.com

SUBJECT LINE: Script

Carly, I read your script. I think it has potential. Let’s set time to discuss. Xx

She read it again. Then again. Carly had recently sent a script to Marilyn Montgomery—one of the most successful screenwriters in the business—after her dad had called in a favor. But she never expected a reply; favors were called in all the time in Hollywood, and often nothing came of them.

But Marilyn had read her script. She said there was potential.

She . . . wanted to discuss it?

Normally, knowing that an Academy Award-winning screenwriter thought her script could be something would elicit the kind of manic excitement that might frighten the nearby children. But in this moment, where Carly could barely stand from grief, all she could do was smile. A genuine smile, because she knew her dad would be so proud. Her life was about to change. She couldn’t call Marilyn, not when she might start crying if another human so much as spoke to her, so she typed a quick response back. Thank you for reading! I will send availabilities shortly! Thank you, again! She hit Send before she added another superfluous thank-you

Or exclamation point, and immediately got a failure-to-send notification. 

Carly frowned, and out of sheer desperation, placed a call to Daniel. Only, the voice that greeted her was an automated recording. The number you’re trying to call is not reachable.

Before she could overthink it, voices rose around her and the people nearby pointed toward the sky.

Maybe the service was glitching because everyone was outside on their phones and livestreaming the eclipse. She’d try emailing again as soon as it was over. What the hell; she might as well see the eclipse. Her dad had been eager to watch, and if she couldn’t be with him physically, maybe this was a different way to honor his memory. Carly took a deep breath, shaded her eyes with her hand and looked up.

This, however, was absolutely a mistake. Her retinas instantly burned. She blinked back the sting and tried to open them again, but her lids felt stuck together. All she saw was black. Had she just blinded herself on top of everything?

There was a flicker of an image—white folding chairs and her dad’s coffin—followed by his voice—Come find me, Carly girl—so clear and loud her breath caught.

Then, as quickly as it had all come on, her eyes opened.

“Dad?” Carly said.

Main Street came back into focus—the kids lying on top of towels, strangers pointing toward the sky. Of course he wasn’t there. She must’ve heard his voice in her fog of grief. Come find me, Carly girl echoed like a drum in her head, though. Logically, she knew that her heart wasn’t actually breaking, but how else to explain the sharp and sudden pain in her chest? She placed a hand to her forehead, let out a shuddering breath and wished the day would just end already.

Excerpted from Not You Again by Erin La Rosa, Copyright © 2025 by Erin La Rosa. Published by Canary Street Press.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Hardcover | Paperback | Audible | Bookshop.org

About the Author

ERIN LA ROSA is the author of For Butter or Worse, Plot Twist, and The Backtrack, and on her way to writing romance, she’s also published two humorous nonfiction books, Womanskills and The Big Redhead Book. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and four daughters (two humans, two felines). Find her on Twitter and Instagram @erinlarosalit and on TikTok @erinlarosawrites.

Connect:

Instagram & Twitter: @erinlarosalit

TikTok: @erinlarosawrites

Substack: https://thedeskoferinlarosa.substack.com/ 

Author website: https://www.erinlarosacreative.com/ 

Spotlight: Daniil by Kat Mizera

Release Date: November 10

My reputation as Europe’s most charming playboy suits me perfectly. As a prince, a member of Parliament, and a Royal Protector, my life is a constant balance between danger and duty.

Relationships have no place in my world. Until Courtney.

I wanted the fiery, red-haired beauty from the first moment I laid eyes on her. My sister-in-law’s military helicopter pilot friend is like no one I’ve ever met.

It only took one touch to know, once wouldn’t be enough. Then she disappeared without a word--twice.

Now she’s gone—completely off the grid—and no one has heard from her in months.

I’m called in to find her, but it takes no persuading. Because this hunt… it’s personal.

And I’m in no way prepared for the secrets she’s been keeping.

She doesn’t just dislike me—she despises everything I stand for. Everything I am.

But it doesn’t matter because I’m not a man who backs down.

Especially when the stakes are this high.

Buy on Amazon

Meet Kat Mizera

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Kat Mizera was born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of Wanderlust. She's lived from coast to coast, and everywhere in between, but home is wherever her family is. A devoted mom and wife to her wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max), Kat loves to travel the globe with her adventurous, hockey loving family. Greece is at the top of that list. She hopes to one day retire there, spending her days writing books on the beach.

Kat is former freelance sports writer who now writes steamy hockey romance about her favorite fictional teams, the Las Vegas Sidewinders and the Lauderdale Knights. The library of novels she's penned also include sexy contemporary stories about baseball stars, alpha sex club owners, bodyguards, rock stars, and royalty. Regardless of genre, her books about bad boys with hearts of gold will steal your breath, rock your world and melt your heart.

To find out about Kat Mizera’s upcoming releases and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter here

For more information on Kat Mizera and her books visit: https://katmizera.com/

Connect with Kat Mizera: https://katmizera.com/pages/contact-kat

Spotlight: Royally Off-Limits by Kate O’Keeffe

(Royally Kissed, #4)

Publication date: November 6th 2025

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

He needs a royal redemption arc. She needs to keep her distance. The public wants a story, preferably a romantic one.

I called him Ledonia’s most eligible man-child in a headline. Now I’m living at his palace.

After my no-holds-barred exposé on Prince Maximilien goes viral, the royal family doesn’t banish me—they hire me. Apparently, the King and Queen think damage control looks like me filming an exclusive behind-the-scenes series on their charming, cocky, scandal-prone son.

Prince Max isn’t thrilled. In fact, he downright despises me. Which is fine. Because the feeling? Entirely mutual.

But the thing is, I didn’t expect him to be smarter, deeper, and somehow even hotter in royal pajamas. And I definitely didn’t expect to start falling for a man I’ve built a career out of publicly roasting.

There’s just one problem: He has no idea who I really am.

He may be a real-life prince, but I’m royally off-limits.

 Enemies to lovers

 Hidden identity

 Forced proximity

 One bed

 Slow burn, kissing only

And a Labrador puppy called Toffee 

Romantic, fun, and swoon worthy, Royally Off-Limits is a laugh-out-loud romp about a prince who has lost his way and a woman with a hidden past who has everything to lose. It’s The Princess Diaries for grown-ups meets The Hating Game. If you love opposites attract, forced proximity, slow burns, snarky banter, and a royal who accidentally falls hard, this one’s for you.

All the titles in the Royally Kissed series can be read as standalone novels or as part of the series.

Excerpt

Good people of Ledonia! Hold on to your fascinators because your ever-devoted royal correspondent is reporting on the most spectacular display of royal ridiculousness in recent memory!

I’m calling it The Scene of Aquatic Chaos, aka man-child Max getting up and personal with royal carp.

Every royal watcher’s favorite, Prince Maximilien, has provided us with enough entertainment to fuel my column for the next century. And trust me, darlings, this story is positively dripping with drama (quite literally, as you'll soon discover). 

It’s a perfectly civilized palace garden party. Cucumber sandwiches, pots of tea, children politely enjoying a slip 'n slide, and our beloved royal family mingling with distinguished guests beneath the afternoon sun.  

So far, so regal.

But then our himbo Max decided to transform this genteel gathering into something resembling a nature documentary gone spectacularly wrong. 

After what sources describe as "a martini or two", our Prince McHottie Junior apparently lost a bet with his friends. The stakes? A fully clothed journey down the children's slip 'n slide. 

Now, one might think a twenty-seven-year-old prince would possess enough rudimentary knowledge of physics to calculate that about two hundred pounds of royal muscle hurtling down a children's water slide might produce some unexpected results.  

One would be mistaken.

What followed, according to multiple horrified witnesses, was nothing short of aquatic pandemonium. Our dear prince launched himself torpedo-style down the slide, landing in an 18th-century decorative fishpond, the very same pond that houses descendants of ceremonial carp gifted by the Thai King to the country of Ledonia over 200 years ago.

The result? Seven fish sent airborne in a spectacular display, captured in my trending TikTok (link below), featuring a child’s call of “Cannonball”. Because let’s face it, no quote says ‘dignified monarchy’ like a fully grown man in a pond.

Fear not, fish lovers among us. Every dislodged fish was scooped off the lawn and returned to the pond unscathed. 

So, here's to you, man-child Max, himbo extraordinaire, for reminding us that even princes are human, that aristocratic carp can fly, and even the most sophisticated garden parties can become disasters worthy of trending TikTok fame. 

Your ever-devoted royal correspondent,

Fabiana Fontaine xx

#ManChildMax

#RoyalCannonball  

#SpiceUpTheGardenParty

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Audible | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Kate O’Keeffe is a USA Today bestselling author known for her fun, feel-good romantic comedies brimming with humor, heart, and happily ever afters. A native of New Zealand, Kate has crafted numerous popular series, garnering a devoted international readership.

With a flair for witty banter and irresistible heroines navigating the ups and downs of modern dating, Kate’s novels showcase strong friendships, comedic entanglements, and the of course sometimes bumpy but always hopeful road to love.

When she’s not writing, Kate can often be found reading romcoms, binging her favourite shows, or spending time with her friends and family in the beautiful Hawke’s Bay region of New Zealand.

Connect:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8195990.Kate_O_Keeffe

https://kateokeeffe.com/

https://www.instagram.com/kateokeeffewriter/

https://www.facebook.com/kateokeeffeauthor

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kate-o-keeffe

https://x.com/kateokeeffe4

Cover Reveal: Selecting The Wrong Love by E. MASSON, Julie G. Henry

(The LoveWade Tale Series, #1)

Publication date: February 20th 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Love can turn your life upside down.
Sometimes more than once…
Just ask Amber…..
Amber thought she knew exactly what she wanted.

She was wrong.

Medical school. Career. Success. Everything mapped out perfectly until three men walked into her life and turned her world upside down.

James crashed into her on campus and never really left. Sweet, steady, completely devoted. He became the friend she couldn’t live without, even though his eyes promised so much more. But Amber had bigger plans than falling for a business major student.

Then Levi appeared like a gift from the universe. Gorgeous, brilliant, medical school’s golden boy. When he chose her out of everyone else, Amber felt invincible. This was it. This was her perfect match.

One positive pregnancy test later, and Amber’s carefully constructed future crumbled. Medical school could wait. Dreams could be rebuilt later. She married her prince and prepared for happily ever after.

What she got instead was a nightmare in designer clothes.

Years of trying to save a marriage that was doomed from the start left Amber broken and questioning everything. While she was busy playing the perfect wife, the perfect man had been waiting in the wings. Still single. Still hopeful. Still completely in love with the woman who’d shattered his heart.

But some chances expire. And Amber’s running out of time to claim the love she was too blind to see.

Will she wake up before it’s too late?

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

Hello lovely readers! Welcome to my corner of the literary world, where fiction comes alive in all its glory! I am E. Masson, a captivating romance author with my pen dipped in dreams and a heart full of romance, I set my readers on the path of unforgettable journeys through the depths of the human heart. From whirlwind romances to slow-burning love stories, each page of my books are infused with warmth and emotion, leaving readers yearning for more.

I have a talent for creating characters you'll adore while feeling like old friends and settings that transport you to new worlds. I am here to sweep you off your feet with every word. So, get ready to rediscover the joy of falling in love with my enchanting romance novels. Welcome to the adventure!

Connect:

https://x.com/AuthorEMasson

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorEMasson

https://www.instagram.com/authoremasson7

https://www.authoremasson.com