The Rewrite Beth Rinyu Publication date: January 29th 2026 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
How long would you hold a grudge?
If you’re Eloise Hendrickson, the answer is twenty-five years.
After being humiliated by her overseas pen pal in seventh grade, Eloise, now a successful writer, has never quite let go of that one mortifying moment. One bad breakup, a late night of drunken internet sleuthing, and a half-baked excuse to bust through writer’s block send her straight into the path of the boy she’s hated her whole life.
Her plan? Turn him into the villain of her next novel.
The plot twist? He’s not the jerk she remembers.
Instead, he’s a charming chocolatier, a devoted family man, and awkwardly, a huge fan of her books. But as Eloise reconnects with the past, it’s not him who captures her attention, it’s someone else entirely. Someone unexpected. He’s rude, infuriating, and gets under her skin like no one else. He’s the exact opposite of the heroes she creates and the men she dates.
With new friends, a fresh perspective, and possibly the beginnings of something romantic—Eloise must decide if she’s finally ready to let go of the perfection she’s always demanded from herself as well as everyone around her, and embrace the unpredictable, wonderfully flawed life waiting for her.
Maybe her next bestseller won’t be about righting the past after all.
Maybe it will be about rewriting the future instead.
Warning: This book may contain chocolate and possibly a happily ever after.
Author Bio:
I’ve always had a passion for Creative Writing. There’s something special about being able to travel to a different place or become a different person with just the stroke of a pen—or in today’s world, a tap of the keyboard. Maybe it all started with the soap opera-level drama I used to script for my Barbie dolls. Plot twists, emotional arcs, surprise twins… it was basically a writer’s room before I even knew what one was. Whatever the spark, storytelling quickly became my favorite creative outlet. I craft stories that keep me on my toes and constantly push me beyond my comfort zone. Deep characters you either root for or love to hate are the ones I’m most drawn to.
Exploring new places helps me uncover fresh and exciting settings for my books, but there’s nothing quite like a quiet walk in the woods or sitting by the ocean close to home. Turns out, plot twists and inspiration arrive just as easily with a sea breeze—or a few curious squirrels.
The Skeleton Faerie A.P. Mobley (Children of the Death Gods, #1) Publication date: November 8th 2025 Genres: Adult, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Mythology
Faerie folklore meets a nuclear postapocalypse in this dark mythological fantasy woven with secrets, treachery, and star-crossed love.
Ninety-nine years after the Nuclear War of 1989, twenty-one-year-old Gus Brandon should only be interested in the survival of humanity and the expansion of his compound. But he’s obsessed with legends from the distant past, superstitions of an expired people.
While searching forbidden ruins for the scraps of stories lost to time, he stumbles upon a mysterious young woman covered in scars. Her name is Saoirse, and their meeting sets off a bloody chain of events—one in which Gus discovers that the folklore he loves just might be real, and that it’s tied to mankind in ways he could have never imagined.
Soon the lines between myth and reality blur, as do the lines between realms.
Gus will have to rely on his knowledge—and Saoirse—to survive the horrors awaiting him… in this world and the next.
When Gus and his teammates were a mere mile from the compound, the sun had almost finished setting, and the temperature had dropped significantly. A breeze grazed the back of his bare neck and arms, sending chills through his body. In every direction, all that was visible were trees, the only noises those of his and his companions’ boots and their animals’ hooves crunching against shriveled grass and fallen leaves. Occasionally, crows—some of them genetically altered, their feathers stained a pinkish color—flapped from branch to branch, their harsh caws piercing the quiet.
Maybe it was because of the extensive amount of folklore he’d been reading, but these days, the dark played tricks on Gus’s eyes, making him see monsters when nothing was there.
Nothing could be there, after all, as the stories he so loved weren’t real.
And even if there was a chance that they were real (and he knew there wasn’t), his compound was on the western side of a mountain range called the Black Hills, located within the fallen United States of America—far, far away from the places those magical tales took place.
Yet he still found himself imagining all manner of malevolent faeries prowling the woods at night. He saw them skulking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
In masses of collapsed cottonwoods, he imagined there were redcaps hiding, plotting to slaughter any stray travelers passing by.
In murders of crows, he imagined there were sluagh flying, scouring the forest floor for the next unlucky fellow whose soul they might devour.
In fast-moving streams, he imagined there were kelpies biding their time, anticipating the moment a person came close enough to drown and eat.
Thankfully, the logical side of his brain knew he had nothing to worry about—even as far as nonfictional threats went. The worst anyone on scavenge-duty had encountered in the last year was a couple of mountain lions and some rattlesnakes, and although he and his teammates had never run into anything like that, they knew how to take care of it as easily as the other people of the compound had: with bullets.
No one left the compound without a loaded gun and extra ammo.
Gus and his team were safe.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and if it weren’t for the smog blanketing the sky (a lingering effect of the Nuclear War, which the elders said should clear up any decade now), the moon and stars might have lit up the night. The temperature fell even further, clouds of breath filling the air in front of Gus’s face and fogging up his glasses.
“Guess we should have packed our coats,” Nancy remarked as she walked in front of Gus, guiding her pig along. She began to shiver. “I hate when the weather gets like this. Hot during the day, cold at night.”
Twigs cracked to the left. Hand flying to his holster, Gus looked that way, his goat bleating, Nancy’s pig squealing.
A flash of movement in the trees, there and gone in an instant.
“What the . . . ?” Oliver tossed his bundle of birds over his shoulder and retrieved his flashlight, his teeth chattering. He and Adam stood several feet to Gus’s right. “Did you guys see that?”
Adam drew his handgun. “Probably a mountain lion. We’re almost home, so just keep your eyes peeled and your weapons ready.”
“Maybe speed it up a little too,” Gus added, and he and Nancy pulled out their handguns. The team continued toward the compound.
Not five minutes had passed before more branches snapped behind them. Again, the goat bleated, and the pig squealed.
Everyone swung around, preparing to shoot. Oliver shined his flashlight into the trees.
The glow revealed a creature that made Gus’s skin prickle with goose bumps.
Author Bio:
A. P. Mobley is the Halloween-loving, rock-music-obsessed author of dark fantasy inspired by mythology. She doesn’t only write about her favorite myths, folktales, and fairy tales in books, though; she discusses them on her podcast, Myths (& Folktales & Fairy tales), as well as on her blog and newsletter. She grew up in Wyoming and Nebraska and currently lives in South Dakota, and when she’s not up to her elbows in research for her next project, she can be found consuming dangerous amounts of coffee, reading speculative fiction, or rewatching The Good Place.
Never miss an update from A. P. by signing up for her newsletter. Full list of books and Content Warnings on her website.
The Cardinal Code: Absolution Avery Sterling (The Cardinal Code, #2) Publication date: April 17th 2026 Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Michael Chamberlain and Paislee Sullivan finally have a chance to breathe—away from chaos, away from the Order, and away from the world that nearly tore them apart.
But the Cardinalis Order doesn’t forget its own.
When Michael is summoned to London, Paislee is pulled into the glittering core of their society—a world of ancient bloodlines, ritual politics, and expectations she never agreed to.
As Michael is drawn into duties he cannot refuse, everything Paislee thought she understood begins to unravel—about the Order, about Michael, and about the dangerous cost of loving someone born into its highest ranks.
Peace was never meant to last. Not in a world ruled by influence…and sharpened by those who know how to use it.
But some bonds never break.
Return to a world of shadows and desire
in Book Two of The Cardinal Code Series.
Author Bio:
Avery Sterling’s love for the romance genre began in her teen years when she picked up her first novel. She was captivated by the sweeping scale of emotions brought about by the words. The experience catapulted her towards learning the art of wielding a breathtaking adventure, with a love that felt authentic. Wanting to inspire people with her own thoughts and words, she finished her first novel at sixteen. It was a step towards understanding the essence of what she wished to create.
Most of her youth was spent traveling, searching out the romance and beauty in her everchanging world. From the waves that crashed against the rocky shores of Downeast, Maine, to the warm breezes of the Caribbean, she discovered that love was universal, apparent in its grandest and simplest of forms. Her goal is to write novels an audience can relate to, one that conveys the truth and nature of love… with all that steamy romance.
Reclamation Kristen Zimmer (Dark Horse Series, #1) Publication date: December 9th 2025 Genres: Adult, Dystopian, New Adult, Science Fiction
Kristen Zimmer, author of The Gravity Between Us, When Sparks Fly, and Forbidden Girl takes readers on an adrenaline-fueled dystopian journey into the future where a scrappy band of rebels rise up to bring down an unequal and unrelenting government.
This is your future.
The United States of America has been gone for over a century.
In its place, The Unified American Territories—a nation divided, the impoverished and the wealthy are separated by a looming steel wall. In the Northern Territories—The Vault, as it is known by its inhabitants—the government rules with an iron fist: All citizens are tested for intelligence and aptitude, thrust into compulsory higher education and saddled with insurmountable debt. All student loans are granted and controlled by a branch of the regime called The Federal Bureau of Education. Failure to repay their debt consigns borrowers to the Knowledge Reclamation Process, a mysterious government-sanctioned brainwashing program that strips them of their education with dire mental and physical side effects.
Fletcher Daniels is a recent college graduate struggling to stay ahead of her arrears. After a visit from Reclamation Agents, she knows her life is about to change for the worse. Enter Youth Opposed to Reclamation, a scrappy band of rebels who try in their own small way to bring some relief to the people of The Vault by smuggling as many potential Reclaimees to safety as possible. When Fletcher meets and falls for fellow female YOR member, Sparrow, her world is twisted away from the one she once knew even more radically. The group offers Fletcher a chance to escape her fate, but through them, she sees the promise of bringing real change to The Vault. History has taught her that even the smallest rebellions can trigger revolutions. It’s time for history to repeat itself.
FLETCHER HAD BEEN ENJOYING the luxury of her sole day off work, reading The Scarlet Letter. Happily. Quietly. Until some unknowable thing, a strange tug in her chest, made her look up. She shut down her antiquated digireader with a tap of the cracked screen and watched from her bedroom window as a sleek, silver sedan pulled to a stop at the curb outside of her dilapidated row house. Agents.
She couldn’t see them through the car’s blacked-out windows, but it was obvious. The simple fact that the vehicle had the shine of something new was enough to give the Agents away. Being from The Vault, or The Northern Territories, as Fletcher’s part of the country was known officially, she rarely saw any cars on the road at all; cars in such impeccable condition were all but complete anomalies. Why do they even bother plastering the Department of Reclamation’s seal on the doors? She wondered.
That hideous seal. Words failed to capture how much Fletcher both loathed and feared it. The great red and black per bend crest, showcasing a scroll of parchment in one half and a tasseled mortarboard in the other, had always been reviled by citizens of The Vault. It meant that someone hadn’t paid their dues, and The Department of Reclamation had come to collect.
The Department of Reclamation employed the Agents who did the strong-arming for The Federal Bureau of Education. While the BOE housed the bookkeepers, The Department of Reclamation’s Agents handled the unseemlier work… and their work was generally quite unseemly. The Governing Council of The Unified American Territories had long ago authorized Reclamation Agents to use brute force “in the event of necessity.” More often than not, visits from Agents did end in violence—if not on their first visit, when a potential Reclaimee received their Notification of Violation, then most definitely on their second visit, when the Agents returned to take the Reclaimee into custody. Reclaimees seldom initiated said violence, of course; Fletcher had heard that most cried or begged for just a few more moments with their loved ones. They would be flogged once or twice and give up or otherwise be knocked out with narcotics. Occasionally, a Reclaimee would try to escape. Those individuals had it much worse. Fletcher closed her eyes and, although it pained her to do it, allowed herself to envision the brutality Agents inflicted upon braver people: Arms twisted so violently that shoulders snapped out their sockets, fingers bent backward with such force that the metacarpals fractured, skulls cracked against living room floors. She shuddered as if her skin had been kissed by an icy wind.
Reclamation Agents were no strangers to The Vault, considering it was the part of the country reserved for the impoverished, the destitute and the disillusioned—those who needed “excessive assistance” from the Government. Those like Fletcher. She would need at least ten more fingers to be able to count the number of times she had seen Agents in her neighborhood in the last week alone. Watching these two men march toward her home, she couldn’t help but wonder if they had come for her this time.
“Fletcher,” her father’s voice boomed through the dimness of her room. “Can you come out here, please?”
“I’ll be right there.”
She peered into the tarnished mirror atop her bedside table. Using the remnants of daylight to aid her vision, she pulled her long blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Alright,” she sighed to herself, her sharp jawline clenching and her hazel eyes burning with angst. “If they are here for you, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Author Bio:
Kristen Zimmer is the author of The Gravity Between Us, which spent 12 weeks as the number one best-seller in both the Lesbian Fiction and Lesbian Romance genres on Amazon. It was listed as one of USA Today’s “10 Best books to read for Pride 2018” and in December 2021 was named one of Reader’s Digest ’50 Best Romance Novels of All Time’
That same year, her follow-up novel, When Sparks Fly, debuted as the best-seller in Lesbian Fiction and Lesbian romance, and clung to the spot for four weeks.
Her latest novel, Forbidden Girl, a dark mafia sapphic romance, is available now.
Kristen lives in Salem, Massachusetts— yes, where the witches were.
Puck Me It’s Christmas! Alina Jacobs (Maplewood Falls, #2) Publication date: November 18th 2025 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance
When you’re a blacklisted preschool teacher and somehow end up coaching the worst team in the NHL, it’s shaping up to be the crappiest Christmas ever.
We’re adding an NHL head-coaching job to the Yule log dumpster fire of my holiday season.
I lost my apartment and had to move back home for the holidays.
My mom sneaks into my bedroom to watch me sleep because she “can’t help it. I missed my little girl so much, Ellie!”
And my day-drinking granny has declared herself the team’s new equipment manager so she can ogle hockey butts in the locker room.
The last thing I need is twenty-two adult toddlers with blades on their feet and bad attitudes for Christmas.
Captain Fletcher Sullivan? He’s the worst, with his muscles and his sneer, turning every practice into The Grinch on Ice.
Between breaking up fights, hosting snack time, and bailing my goalie out of jail, I have no time for Christmas cheer—or for the cocky, absurdly ripped team captain who thinks I don’t belong in the NHL.
Yes, I played on the women’s national hockey team.
Yes, I lift weights.
And yes, I will pick up a six-four hockey player and put him in time-out if he doesn’t follow directions.
There’s no Christmas miracle coming to save us. We lose. A lot.
But armed with Goldfish crackers and juice boxes, I’m going to turn this team of ragtag hockey players into winners.
Even if it turns me into the Grinch.
Or worse—makes me fall for the enemy.
“I don’t want everyone to blame me when we get creamed.” I sink in my chair.
My dad kneels in front of me and grabs my hand. “Exactly! So do the press conference, say you have another job offer, and this will all be over.”
“No wonder they kept trading your ass around when you were a goalie!” Granny Murray makes a rude noise. “You’re a quitter and a narc.”
Angie comes in with my phone that’s ringing and ringing.
I don’t recognize the number, though it’s a Maplewood Falls area code.
“It’s the press.” Angie waves the phone at me. “Tell them you won’t do interviews unless they pay you.”
“Ooh! Yeah, then we can go shopping,” Maxine squeals.
“Aunt Babs already bought you clothes, sweetie.” Mom smooths my hair down.
“Don’t talk to the press,” my dad begs.
“Nate,” my mom tells him, “let me make you some herbal tea.”
“Food!” my little brothers wail.
“For God’s sake,” my dad curses.
I answer the phone.
“Speaker,” Maxie whispers. “Put it on speaker.”
“Hello?” My voice is hesitant.
A loud, irritated male sigh echoes around the kitchen as everyone watches breathlessly. “Candy Cane?” I can practically hear Fletcher roll his eyes. “I mean, Coach Candy Cane.”
I grimace. “About that…”
“You better not be flaking out,” the deep voice warns. “You have the keys. We’re freezing our nuts off out here.”
Author Bio:
I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.
When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…
You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.
Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!
Miss Fortune Ashley Bustamante Publication date: March 31st 2026 Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult
The moonlight gave her luck…love might take it away.
Since childhood, eighteen-year-old Nia has relied on the fortune stone—a gift from a boy who once saved her from drowning. Its magic, tied to the phases of the moon, brings her extraordinary luck… at the cost of a life spent in hiding from those who would exploit her.
But on the night of the dark moon, Nia is attacked by a nightmare creature and left for dead—only to awaken in an enchanted castle ruled by the enigmatic Neilos. He offers her a bargain: he’ll heal her damaged lungs, but only if she remains within the castle’s walls until the next dark moon.
There, Nia discovers the boy from her past, Enitan, now serves as Neilos’s guard. In stolen moments with Enitan, Nia uncovers a devastating truth: whenever he is near, her fortune stone falls silent. She can have her luck or Enitan… never both.
As Nia uncovers the castle’s twisted secrets, she realizes the cost of staying may be more than she’s willing to pay. Nia must choose: keep the magic that has protected her, or risk everything for love.
Ashley Bustamante has created stories from the moment she could scribble and staple sheets of paper together. She simply cannot recall a time when writing was not a force in her life. When not running through lines of dialogue in her mind, she enjoys taking photographs and spending time with her husband, three children, and any furry, feathered, or scaly creature she can find.
The Champagne Crush Caroline O’ Connell (Les Femmes Series) Publication date: September 16th 2025 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
For fans of Emily In Paris (on Netflix). “Pop the cork on this sparkling romance where champagne dreams and career schemes collide in the vineyards of Napa and the glamour of New York. Catherine Reynolds is ready to reinvent herself, but a flirty CEO, fizzing ambition, and a splash of betrayal shake up her plans. From vineyard drama to high-stakes PR, love and bubbles rise to the top. Perfect for fans of witty banter, slow-burn tension, and second chances with a twist.” —Los Angeles Book Review
Catherine Reynolds has enjoyed a life of luxury, but her diplomat parents have cut her off financially, leaving her flat broke. She is determined to turn things around and gain her independence—so, when an old family friend offers her a lifeline as a PR consultant for his sparkling wine company, she jumps at the chance. But working with Chris McDermott, the company’s sexy, stubborn president, is anything but easy.
A purist at heart, Chris clashes with Catherine’s glitzy marketing flair; still, the chemistry between them is undeniable. As they travel from New York to Napa, Paris, and the Champagne region of France, their partnership blossoms amid high-stakes industry rivalries and a launch that could make or break them.
When sabotage threatens to shatter their dreams, Catherine must dig deep to prove her worth. With the dazzling unveiling of their new sparkling wine in Bordeaux in jeopardy, will she and Chris overcome the challenges of the past and present to secure their future—and find love in the process?
Catherine rode up front with Frédéric. The short drive from Trianon to Hautvillers, a picturesque “high village,” took them up a narrow, winding road barely changed for centuries. Along the route, they passed well-preserved ancient buildings, some displaying forged-iron signs from a different era. Frédéric pulled up to the Abbey of Hautvillers. The small historic church overlooked fields of vineyards in the valley below.
“For Champenois,” Frédéric said, “this is considered the birthplace of champagne. Other regions were experimenting with sparkling wine, but this was the place in France, in Champagne.”
He led them to a patio where an ice bucket and three flutes sat on a small table. “Let’s take a moment to savor a good French champagne, while I tell the story.” He pulled a bottle of Moët’s Dom Pérignon out of the ice bucket and opened it. “It’s appropriate to drink this champagne, since Moët & Chandon named their prestige blend after Dom Pérignon.” He filled the flutes. “Let’s toast.”
Frédéric began. In 1668, a young Benedictine monk, Pierre Pérignon, became cellarmaster of the Abbey at Hautvillers. Dom was a title given to certain Benedictine monks, so he was called Dom Pérignon. At the time, the abbey was making still wine.
Hautvillers, in the Falaises de Champagne, has a cool northern climate. Pérignon noticed when the weather turned warm in spring some bottles of wine became effervescent. By accident, they had gone through a second fermentation, creating bubbly wine. Through trial and error, Pérignon determined that wine yeast went dormant in cold temperatures. In spring, the remaining leftover yeast initiated another fermentation, creating the bubbles.
“We’re talking about a lot of bubbles,” Frédéric said. He explained the bottles couldn’t withstand the additional pressure. Many bottles shattered or the wood plugs popped out, causing spillage. Eventually, Dom Pérignon came up with a cork plug to hermetically seal the bottles, trapping the bubbles in.
“There were still many broken bottles,” Frédéric laughed, “until they devised a way to make stronger bottles.” Future champagne producers learned how to create the millions of bubbles in each bottle by adding yeast to the blended still wine for the second fermentation.
“A sip to celebrate this monk and his gift to the world.” Frédéric lifted his flute. Chris thoroughly enjoyed Frédéric’s description. Catherine seemed mesmerized and made a few notes.
“Pérignon devoted his life to the abbey until he died in 1715,” Frédéric said. “And now, let’s pay our respects.” He led them into the small church to view Dom Pérignon’s tombstone.
They walked back to the car in contemplative silence. Frédéric checked his phone. “We have time to drive by the church in Reims, if you’d like to see it.”
“I’d love to,” Catherine said. “My parents were married at Notre-Dame de Paris, a similar Gothic cathedral.”
Traffic was light. They arrived in Reims, the capital of Champagne, thirty minutes later. Frédéric pulled up to the plaza in front of the cathedral. He gestured to the edifice. “This church has an important historical significance in France. Starting in the thirteenth century, it was chosen for the coronation of French kings”—he paused—“for six hundred years.”
“That’s a long time,” Chris said.
“One of the most famous coronations was the crowning of Charles the Seventh in 1429, attended by Joan of Arc. Jeanne d’Arc, in French,” he added. “Unfortunately, not long after, she was captured by the English and put to death for helping French fighters during the Hundred Years’ War.”
“Sad story,” Catherine said. She stepped out of the car and took a few photos of the facade.
When she got back in, Frédéric drove a few miles to their destination. It was clear the main business of Reims was champagne. Markers indicating numerous champagne houses, including Taittinger and Veuve Clicquot, popped up along the route. Right before the approach to Les Crayères, they passed a sign for Pommery Champagne.
Frédéric pulled into a parking spot. “We’re here.” He got out of the car to see them off.
“Thank you, Frédéric, for making us feel so welcome,” Chris said. “You’ve been a great host and guide.” Chris shook his hand, and Catherine and Frédéric shared air kisses on both cheeks.
“You’ll have to visit us in New York sometime,” Catherine said.
“It’s my dream to go to the US,” Frédéric said. “En tout cas, I will see you in Bordeaux in June.”
“Yes, in two months,” Chris said.
As they walked up to the entrance, Chris stifled the urge to hold Catherine’s hand. She gave him his tie and pulled out a multicolored scarf that she wrapped around her neck.
Chris admired the breathtaking classic French château set in the midst of lush parkland. Yves texted he was running late, so they opted to wait in the bar. After perusing the carte of champagnes by the glass, Chris chose Pommery. Appropriate, since the château was built by that family. A brochure on the table relayed the history.
Les Crayères was built for Louise Pommery, the Duchess of Polignac, in 1904. Decades later, it became a twenty-room château for guests, boasting a gourmet restaurant and luxurious rooms overlooking manicured gardens. One reviewer called it “a Versailles in miniature . . . the stuff of honeymoons and weekend-away liaisons.”
Their flutes were served cold, the way he liked it. They tapped glasses before taking their first sips, very much in sync, like a couple. Chris was starting to sag after a busy day preceded by an early run, but Catherine seemed like the Energizer bunny; that is, if said rabbit wore a short slim dress showcasing killer legs, which he now knew could run like the wind.
Catherine set her glass down. “This is good champagne. Smart choice for the setting. The Pommerys built a lovely château.”
“This place is pretty spectacular,” he agreed, then couldn’t resist adding, “I know who I want to bring here for the two-night stay I won in the auction.”
—
Excerpt from The Champagne Crush by Caroline O’Connell,
courtesy of SparkPress, an imprint of The Stable Book Group.
Author Bio:
CAROLINE O’CONNELL has written five travel guides and numerous travel articles for magazines, newspapers, and websites. Her Romance In Paris guide has won widespread praise: “There is no better person to guide you through Paris than Caroline” — Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective, radio host, and Travel Editor on CBS-TV. And Library Journal raved — “Reading this breezy but informative guide to Paris is like having a series of conversations with a well-traveled friend…”
Her debut novel, THE CHAMPAGNE CRUSH: A Romance Novel (Spark Press), is due out on September 16, 2025.
Bad Crush on a Rockstar Kitt Henley (Soulmates, #3) Publication date: November 25th 2025 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
A spicy brother’s-best-friend romance featuring a cinnamon roll rockstar hero haunted by his past, a plucky heroine with a childhood crush, slow seduction, hometown shows, and rapidly crumbling resolve.
She’s my best friend’s little sister, and she’s got a bad crush. But I’m the one who can’t stay away from her.
SEAN: When I first laid eyes on Brooke Halsey, she was just a sweet, freckle-faced kid with enormous glasses and an even bigger crush on me.
But there’s no denying she’s all grown up now.
She’s running the merch table while my rock band’s home on tour, and even though we’ve never been more than good friends, I know she’s game. I’d totally go for it too, if I didn’t already know I’d break her heart, destroy my band, and lose Jonah—our drummer, my best friend, and her brother.
He’s made it clear he does not want me messing around with his little sister. He knows Brooke’s serious about finding love and playing for keeps. So a rock musician with no fallback plan and no permanent address is the last thing she needs.
Which is why I’m in deep trouble right now…
Because last night…I kissed her.
— The Soulmates Series: Two bands. Three shows. Four happily ever afters. Bad Crush on a Rockstar is a complete romance with no cliffhanger. This story can be enjoyed as a stand-alone or read as the third book in the Soulmates interwoven rockstar romance series.
“Knock, knock,” Lexie croons through the curtain, her knuckles rapping at the edge of my bunk. “We’re just about there, if you need to pack up.”
“Thanks.” I slide the curtain to one side and sit up, swinging my legs over the edge as I rub my eyes. I peer through the large bay window at the Chicago skyline shimmering in the sun as we roll along the freeway.
Artie and our backup driver took shifts all night and all through the day to get us here. We usually sleep on the bus when we’re on tour, but since we’re here for several days, the label offered to put us up in a hotel. Anthony opted to stay at his family’s penthouse this week because it’s nearby and empty right now, but the rest of us were happy to accept. We all grew up here, so we could’ve crashed with family or friends, but using the hotel as a home base simplifies things. It gives us some space and privacy to decompress, and it also helps avoid some of the social demands of being back in town. I’m looking forward to having a little privacy and sleeping in a normal-size bed for a change.
I’m still organizing my bunk area as the bus turns down Michigan Avenue. I pick out some clothes for the week and stuff them into my large duffle bag.
We pull up in front of the hotel, and I sling my duffle over my shoulder.
“You kids have a good time, now, all right?” Artie calls back to us. “Be safe.”
“Will do. Thanks for the ride, Artie, and have a great rest of the week!” I lug my bag down the aisle and push open the side door.
A gust of cold air rushes inside, whipping the door panel from my grip and slamming it against the exterior of the bus.
“Whoa.” I step outside, holding an arm out to brace the door as the other two exit.
“Good old Chicago,” Lexie jokes.
I glance up toward the hotel. The Drake in downtown Chicago is a sight to behold. We’ve stayed here once before, but it still takes my breath away. This place is fancy. Sleek, clean lines of gleaming beige stone. This kind of extravagance is always a shock to my system.
The bellhop places our luggage on a cart, and the doorman holds the door for us, then we cross the smooth carpeted floor to the elegant front desk.
“Three reservations for Garrett Music Industries,” Jonah says to the man behind the counter, then he winks at Lexie.
I glance over to catch her reaction, but she’s staring straight ahead like nothing happened.
Something’s up with those two. But they’re always playing games and finding ways to compete with each other, so who knows what this is about.
My luggage shows up at the room just as I do, and I stretch out on the bed to relax for a minute before hopping in the shower.
The water’s hot and the pressure’s fantastic—about a thousand times better than on the bus. I let it run over my shoulders, easing the tension in my back. My mind is already shifting to Brooke. Seeing her tonight.
Because here’s the thing.
I love Brooke.
Not in a romantic way—at least, it’s never been that way between us. No, I love Brooke in an honest, good, and true kind of way. The way it feels when you realize you would do anything for a person. That you would always be there for them, no matter what.
Brooke’s done that for me too, right from the start. She noticed I was struggling with school and offered to help. When she found out I wanted to start playing bass, she came up with a plan for me to earn enough money doing odd jobs so I could buy one off a friend.
From that very first day my family moved into their house, she was finding thoughtful things to do and making lighthearted jokes to keep the mood up. And it helped. It didn’t feel so awkward being there, living in their home and taking up their space.
She had this sweet, round face full of freckles and thick glasses that made her brown eyes look enormous—almost big enough to match her outsized personality. She was adorable.
But then she grew up.
It was hard not to notice, because once she started to develop, it happened fast. I remember Jonah and I were walking through the halls on the first day of senior year, and I was looking around for any cute new faces on campus. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted a girl with a pair of the most beautiful breasts I’d ever seen in my life.
I leaned toward Jonah, whispering, “Check it out, nine o’clock,” and angling a thumb at the hottie with the body that just wouldn’t quit.
“What the fuck, man?” Jonah scowled, his expression suddenly menacing. “Shut the fuck up!”
Imagine my horror when the hot little number turned to face me and I realized I was checking out Jonah’s little sister.
“Holy shit. I didn’t even recognize her with…uh…without her glasses on.”
It was too late. The damage was done.
Brooke was only fourteen, for God’s sake. I felt like a monster, but she smiled so big and came over to hug both of us. It was all I could do not to stare straight at those incredible breasts and wonder what the hell happened over the summer.
Jonah was chilly around me for days after, and I felt like a total ass. I’d never had a friend like Jonah, and I hated that I’d done something to damage our relationship. I had to apologize multiple times, but eventually he seemed to forgive me.
“Seriously, man. Hands off my sister,” he warned, and I nodded.
“For sure, man. I swear to God, I would never lay a hand on her.” I made him that promise, and I meant it.
But toward the middle of senior year, things got…complicated. Brooke and I had been spending a lot of time together at the library while she helped me study for midterms, and one afternoon she had on this short green dress that showed more of her cleavage than I was accustomed to dealing with. Still, I managed to keep my eyes off her chest and up toward her pretty face, for the most part.
She was reading me an excerpt from George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, but I couldn’t concentrate. There was this shiny gloss she had on, and it made that bottom lip look so juicy and delicious that I couldn’t stop staring at it. Just watching her beautiful mouth as she read was sending this tingle up and down my spine. My jeans felt tight, and I realized she was giving me a serious hard-on.
I cut our study session short and tried to adjust myself without anyone noticing. I booked it out of there so fast she must have wondered what the hell happened. I kicked myself all the way home, because what the fuck was I doing having sexual feelings for Brooke? She was my best friend’s little sister. I felt like the universe was playing some kind of cruel joke on me, putting such a wonderful young person inside that smoking hot body.
And she Just. Kept. Getting. Hotter.
Of course, by the time she was old enough for me to act on my feelings—assuming I would even go there, given she’s a good friend and Jonah’s sister and all, which I wouldn’t—it was clear Brooke was destined for better things than a guy like me. While I was off working odd jobs in construction and trying to get a band started, Brooke was completing the Visual Design program at Carnegie Mellon University on a full merit scholarship.
I never should have responded to her seductive tease on the phone today. She’s always playing around like that, flirting with me, and normally I keep it in check. But I got caught up in the moment, and when she took that sultry tone with me, I went with it. I played along with her sexy little game, because—let’s face it—Brooke is hot as hell, and it feels good to be wanted by her.
It feels way too good.
Which is exactly why I cannot be flirting with her. I don’t ever want to ruin the close friendship we have. Plus, she’s had a crush on me since middle school, and she’s naïve about love. She doesn’t realize I’m the last fucking thing she needs, so I can’t be toying with her emotions like that—getting her hopes up that something might happen between us when I know damn well it would never work.
She dreams of having kids someday, the sooner the better. She’s looking for something serious. Long-term. But I don’t have the kind of career that can support a family, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to repeat my dad’s mistakes—bringing children into an unstable financial situation.
No, if I keep this flirting shit up she’s gonna end up getting hurt, and I’ll only have myself to blame.
Author Bio:
Kitt Henley writes short, spicy contemporary romance with relatable characters, a touch of humor, and tons of heart. Never one to make it through a good romance (or cookie commercial) with dry eyes, Kitt’s heartstrings are easy to pull on. When she played in rock bands and crunched numbers in the Seattle tech world, those waterworks weren’t an asset, but after a friend suggested she try writing romance, everything clicked into place. From the moment she sat down to write her first novel, she knew she’d found her calling.
When she’s not wrangling words in her tiny bedroom office, Kitt loves to spend time with her high school best friend (a.k.a. her rockstar husband) and their two ridiculously funny boys. She’s still holding out hope for that family band someday, but in the meantime she’ll happily settle for camping trips, board games, long walks with friends, and watching lots and lots of thrillers.
Elf on the Edge Alina Jacobs (The Wynter Brothers, #3) Publication date: November 4th 2025 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance
Hire a hitman to take out my cheating ex? It was an eggnog-fueled mistake, I swear!
On Christmas Eve, my perfect fiancé stands up at the altar to declare his pure undying love… for my evil stepsister.
Cue public humiliation, a ruined wedding, and me crawling back to my small hometown to work minimum wage at my granny’s Christmas café.
Just living the holiday dream.
But I refuse to show up sad and alone to my cheating ex and man-stealing stepsister’s engagement party.
I’ll be devoured by gossipy small-town vultures.
So I do what any rational woman would: empty her bank account, max out her credit cards, and hire a high-end escort with the Merry Christmas package.
Too bad I mess up the number and accidentally hire… a hitman.
Oops.
This is why I hate making phone calls.
I realize I’m screwed when Talbot Wynter crashes the party all combat boots, dirty jeans, and washboard abs.
He feels me up, drinks all the booze, flirts with my grandmother, then tries to off my cheating ex in his hotel room.
I scream and make him stop him because I may or may not still pathetically have feelings for my ex.
Talbot thinks I’m insane.
He might be right.
But his company has a strict no-refunds policy.
Now I’m stuck dragging this six-foot-five, potty-mouthed menace of an ex-Marine to Christmas tree cuttings, gingerbread baking, and holiday parties—
All while he tries to convince me to let him take out my ex so he can go snowboarding.
But what if my ex is moved by the holiday spirit and realizes he still loves me and comes home for Christmas?
Or, he would if I could just get this hitman out of my bedroom… and my panties.
Holiday hamster-wheel victims assemble! We’re dodging holiday drama, downing peppermint schnapps, and fending off meddling grandmothers with boundary issues and a death grip on our dating lives. This standalone holiday romantic comedy is packed with chaos, Christmas cookies, and a filthy-mouthed bad boy (and that’s not steel in his pants) guaranteed to leave you swooning under the mistletoe. Happily ever after and holiday cheer guaranteed!
“Wait, where are you going? I thought we were having sex,” I wail as he opens up the window and swings one leg out.
“Excuse me?” He swivels back inside and pulls off the black mask. “Why in the hell would I have sex with you?”
“Are you kidding me right now? Are you fucking—because you’re a fucking prostitute.” I’m sobbing now. “And I paid you a fuck-ton of money to pretend to be my boyfriend and to have sex with me.”
His mouth drops open.
It would be funny if all my money weren’t gone.
“Gumdrop.” He jumps back into the room, the soft shoes silent on the carpet. “You did what?”
“You’re a high-end escort, but you really don’t live up to the promise.” I sniffle.
I’m fishing for more mini bottles. Talbot slams the fridge door.
“You really have drunk too much.” He cups my face. “Gumdrop. You paid me to assassinate your ex, Austen Langley. Remember?”
“Assassinate? Like kill, kill? Or just like, you’re going to glitter-bomb him?” I squeak.
“Yeah, ‘Grandma gets run over by a reindeer’ level of dead.”
My knees collapse, and I plop down on the floor like Christmas cookie dough.
“I did a… you’re a… I hired an…”
“Assassin?” He unzips the black bag and pulls out the biggest gun. Like, comically large. Movie-villain large. Plus three knives and what might be a torture device along with zip ties and duct tape.
My stomach twists.
“I prefer hitman,” he says, cheerful, like we’re chatting over wine and charcuterie. “Assassin sounds a little bougie. I just kill people and make it look like an accident.”
“I’ve made a huge mistake,” I groan.
“For Austen,” he rambles, obviously pleased with himself, “it’s going to look like he partied too hard and paid the price.”
“Then, but the—” I point to the gun, trying not to hyperventilate.
“This?” he gives it a kiss. “Just a little insurance policy in case things go south. But I have a pretty good plan in place. No one will think he’s been murdered. Everyone saw him downing drink after drink. All the women are off in the hot tub. All his NHL friends are super drunk.”
Talbot shows me his phone. There’s Brielle on the livestream doing a stripper dance, all for the eyes of my fake boyfriend. Shoot, my fake fake boyfriend, because…
Because a cold-blooded killer is standing in my suite, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks. I start scooching back on the carpet.
Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. The dead eyes, the total lack of empathy in his face, the glee as he describes how he’s going to kill Austen, my Austen, my one true love.
Author Bio:
I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.
When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…
You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.
Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!
Jane Austen meets Ali Hazelwood in this steamy, friends-to-lovers, STEM rom-com! He’s her best friend’s little brother and NHL forward. She’s a computer scientist used to being in control. The E.M.M.A., her elite AI training program, claims optimizing his performance requires one thing: the perfect match. According to its calculations, that’s her… Will Harriet discover that The E.M.M.A. knows best?
Harriet Smythe’s AI was supposed to create sports legends—not encourage her crush on her best friend’s totally off-limits, hot younger brother. But when funding runs dry, she has no choice but to enlist Gale Knight as her test subject. The same Gale she’s been secretly crushing on for years. The player who follows her every instruction with a knowing smirk that threatens to short-circuit her carefully maintained system.
Everything changes when The E.M.M.A. determines that finding Gale’s perfect match is essential to his peak performance. Even worse? According to its data, that match is Harriet.
Determined to keep things professional, she makes it search for new candidates. But as Gale dutifully endures awkward outings with pop stars and athletes, the chemistry between them only intensifies. And his willing cooperation during their sessions definitely isn’t helping her stay focused.
With her deadline approaching and The E.M.M.A. still playing cupid, Harriet must choose: trust in pure logic, or admit that sometimes taking control means letting go.
Maybe The E.M.M.A. knows something they don’t—even if they’re not ready to compute it yet.
For three decades, Grace supported her husband Frank’s passion for books, even though her own love for literature paled in comparison. Since his passing, the shelves echo longingly, and Grace’s heartache has only grown. When Grace’s grandson suggests joining Frank’s old book club, she hesitates. How could meeting with a bunch of strangers possibly fill the void he left behind? Despite her doubts – and desperate to feel close to Frank again – Grace decides to attend. Yet, upon arrival, Grace is puzzled to find this isn’t your typical book club: here, you settle in for an hour of silent reading. Disappointed by the sparse attendance and confused by the lack of chatter she flees. But when equally lonely member, Annie, convinces her to stay, Grace is determined to ensure that neither Frank – nor his beloved book club – are forgotten. And as she breathes new life into the group, she might just find this is where she truly belongs. Because this next chapter of life could just be the beginning of her story…
