COVER REVEAL - CONTEMPORARY - KEYS TO THE CASTLE (Castle Club, #1) by Libby Kay

In a place of fleeting pleasure,

the lucky ones find a true home. 

Keys to the Castle
The Castle Club, #1
by Libby Kay
Genre: Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance 

Fiona Oslo is used to being alone. After losing her job and uncle in one awful day, Fiona hits rock bottom. Weighed down by grief and a fear of the future, Fiona inherits the last thing she expects…the keys to The Castle, Cincinnati’s premiere lifestyle club with the potential to both inspire and push her outside her comfort zone.

Chase Martin is no stranger to heartache. This combat veteran has experienced more losses than he’d care to remember, but the routine of his security job at The Castle keeps the bad memories away. Unfortunately, the sudden death of his mentor and business partner threatens to take the only place Chase has left.

Fiona and Chase are thrust together, working in a tenuous partnership that begins to feel anything but professional. From late nights working in the club to cozy mornings sharing breakfast, they start to imagine a life outside their business-partners-with-benefits arrangement.

Together they will quickly learn, the keys to this castle bring more than a fleeting moment of pleasure, they promise a true home.

Best-selling author Libby Kay has a new series that’s perfect for fans of spicy romances with found family like Lana Ferguson and Lucy Score. Grab a copy for yourself and get a peek inside The Castle’s sexy lifestyle.

**Releases Nov 17th – PreOrder Now!**

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Libby Kay lives in the city in the heart of the Midwest. When she’s not writing sweet and spicy love stories, Libby loves reading every romance novel she can find, binging true crime shows, or traveling with her husband.

Libby cohosts the Romance Roundup podcast with Liz Donatelli where they recommend romance books, do recaps of popular book-to-screen adaptations, and interview authors. Check it out for your dose of romance!

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HUMOR - SKIP CARTER: Henchman for Hire by J. Von Swan

Skip Carter: Henchman for Hire

by J. Von Swan

Publication date: October 13th 2026

Genres: Action, Adult, Humor

BLURB

From the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series comes a story about the guy nobody roots for — until now.

Skip Carter isn’t a hero. He’s a former soldier, ex-con, and lifelong screw-up whose only real talent is taking punches and showing up anyway. So when a shady agency offers to rent him out as muscle for supervillains, he figures it’s just another paycheck.

But between ridiculous costumes, insane bosses, and jobs that always end in broken bones, Skip starts to realize the real losers are the guys stuck cleaning up after the chaos. And when a world-ending threat finally hits Skytropolis, he gets one shot to stop being the disposable henchman and start being the man his daughter believes he can be.

Darkly funny, surprisingly heartfelt, and packed with action, Skip Carter, Henchman for Hire is for anyone who’s ever felt like the sidekick in their own story.

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EXCERPT

Mrs. Fuller glanced down her list. “Okay! Next we have… Mr. Carter.”

Peggy turned around in her chair and locked eyes with me. Her smile wasn’t just excitement. It was encouragement. A silent You can do this.

My chest tightened as I stood, smoothing the front of my suit jacket with sweaty hands. The room stared at me with pure, unfiltered child curiosity. No judgment yet. Just curious attention like they were hoping I might be someone I’m not.

I walked to the front of the classroom, facing a row of small faces that believed adults were all responsible, stable people with their shit together. And I realized, with sudden clarity, that I had no idea what to say.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

Awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched. The kind that crawls across your skin and whispers everyone is watching you screw this up.

I cleared my throat and glanced at Dr. Ramirez. He studied me like he was trying to place how he knew me from his emergency room.

“Uh. Hi, kids.”

A few of them waved like I was a minor celebrity. Someone whispered something and giggled.

“My name is Skip Carter. I’m Peggy’s dad.”

Peggy sat up straighter at that. Pride radiated off her like a heat lamp.

“I, uh… I used to be in the military.” That part was safe and true. Technically documented despite the dishonorable discharge. “And now I work in… private security.”

That sounded boring enough to pass. Mrs. Fuller nodded approvingly.

Jayden, the dog lover, raised his hand immediately. “Do you protect people?”

Every instinct screamed at me to lie. To say yes. To let that be the end of it. Protecting people was clean. Simple. Noble.

Instead, honesty slipped out like a bad habit.

“Not really,” I said.

Jayden frowned with confusion. “So then what do you do?”

I choked a little. “I… help make sure certain situations go the way they’re supposed to.”

That felt vague enough to dodge the truth while still being technically accurate. I had spent years perfecting that skill.

A girl with neat, black braids and a pink sweater raised her hand. “Do you stop bad guys?”

“No,” I said, and immediately regretted it. “I mean, sometimes other people stop them.”

She also frowned like I’d just told her Santa wasn’t real.

Another hand shot up. “Do you stop burglars from stealing stuff?”

I shook my head. “No.”

The kids started exchanging confused looks. The magic was leaking out of the room.

From the back, a voice cut through the air. “My mom says he’s a henchman.”

Some of the kids immediately giggled.

I looked toward the sound. It was Billy from next door. He was wearing a Captain Justice T-shirt and a smug expression. The kind of kid who repeated adult conversations without understanding why they hurt.

Peggy whipped around in her seat. “Shut up, Billy!”

Mrs. Fuller stepped forward. “Billy, that’s not appropriate–”

Billy wasn’t done. “She says henchmen work for supervillains and help them hurt people.”

Every pair of eyes swung back to me.

I felt heat crawl up my neck, into my face. The suit suddenly felt too tight.

Peggy stood up in her seat. “My dad knows all the superheroes!”

That part was technically true. Unfortunately.

Billy smirked. “Then does he know Captain Justice?”

I exhaled slowly. “Yeah,” I said. “I know Captain Justice.”

Billy’s eyes lit up. “Is he awesome in real life?”

I thought about Captain Justice and all the times he had knocked out my friends. About him swooping in to stop us even when the jobs were small. About the time he punched a henchman who was injured and trying to surrender.

“He’s kind of a blowhard,” I said.

 

Author Info

J. Von Swan is the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series. He retired from law enforcement as a Sergeant in 2024 after the birth of his first daughter. During his career, he served on both the SWAT team and the mental health unit, experiences that now influence his writing and dark sense of humor. He now writes full-time and instructs law enforcement part-time at the community college.

J. Von Swan lives in Colorado with his family, where he spends his time enjoying the outdoors and imagining dragons that still need slaying.

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SPOTLIGHT w/INTERVIEW - PARANORMAL THRILLER - WHISPERS OF THE PALE WITCH (Beckett Coven, #1) by S.A. Sizemore

Whispers of the Pale Witch 

Beckett Coven, #1

by S.A. Sizemore

Date of Publication: September 29th 2026

Genre: Horror/Paranormal Thriller

Publisher: Rowan Prose Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-961967-99-1

ASIN: B0FTBTKG9J

Number of pages: 398

Word Count: 98,000

Cover Artist: Kelly Moran

Tagline: Shall we begin?

BLURB

Some secrets should just stay buried. 

After the sudden death of her great-aunt, Kylie Beckett lands her dream job as a forensic photographer in the small seaside town where she was born. But once there, a series of murders and the theft of a dangerous relic force Kylie to uncover the dark truth about her ancestors. 

With the help of newfound family, she learns to harness unconscious powers to stop the vengeful and unstable Pale Witch before she unleashes a demonic spirit on Salem, Massachusetts once again. 

Shall we begin?

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Excerpt - Chapter 1
Just as she was in life, Deliverance was a demon in death.
Her cruel whispers invaded quiet conversations. Her hate-filled face raced past in the shadows. Destroying the body didn’t end her baneful abuses. Instead, she became limitless and everywhere, always.
A thick breath of fog rolled in from Derby Wharf, obscuring much of the town in its salty grip. Beneath a brick wall, Angela’s torso hovered close to the ground like a disembodied specter. It was just past the witching hour.
Trying to ignore the demon’s voice, her foot forced a shovel tip between the invading roots of an old elm tree. Late summer rain softened the first two feet, but the deeper she went, the more arduous her task became. As its blade struck the cold earth, the shovel’s handle creaked once more. If it could just hold out a bit longer, weeks of their nocturnal labor would come to an end tonight.
The whispers beneath her feet intensified into a full-throated growl. Too loud. Angela pulled a small bottle of water out of her pocket and sprinkled it over the soil. Its bitter blessing drove the sound into silence once more.
For years, drugs numbed the whispers and obscured the demon’s face, but Angela’s gatekeepers eventually tossed her out like many crumpled bits of garbage now littering the streets of the North Shore. In Boston, she found ways to calm the chaos by coercing the gullible. Many survived their interactions with her. Some were not as fortunate.
During a moment of weakness, she tried to end her own life, but Lyssa and Hekate kept her from the slumber of death. Instead, her beloved Goddesses graciously bestowed visions of destiny upon their troubled servant.
The shovel finally bumped against something other than rocks and roots. A rush of excitement flowed through Angela’s veins. Turning the blade over, she scraped back the earth from the old pine lid. Then she jammed the shovel’s metal edge between the boards.
Nails loosened, but the pressure snapped the rusted collar from the shovel’s wooden handle. She grumbled something incoherent and tossed the broken tool aside. It landed with a soft thud onto the foraged slab of plywood she’d been using to cover the grave.
Adrenaline in her veins shifted to pulsing dopamine.
Angela grabbed the axe lying next to the rejected shovel. She lifted it above her head and let its blade fall onto the rotting timber. Not too hard. Just enough to break it. Must not harm the treasure inside. She set the axe aside and grabbed hold of the broken coffin lid. When one of the planks snapped in half, it ripped open the skin on her knuckles.
A face stared back at her. Though not recognizable in its present state, it still gave Angela nauseating chills. Crimson drops christened the bones as she placed them one by one inside a black trash bag. It wasn’t the first time the demon drew blood from her.
When she was done, she pulled the plywood back over the open pit and spread a thin layer of earth on top with the shovel blade. Once more, her work was hidden. Then she picked up the axe and swung it hard against the cheap concrete headstone. It tumbled over into the tall weeds. She struck it several times more, letting fury flood her soul.
Angela rolled over in the darkness and opened her eyes in a panic. Did she just come from the cemetery, or was it something she had yet to do?
No.
She reached over and touched the black bag lying next to her. It had been days since that task had been completed. Time slipped back and forth so easily sometimes.
Obtaining the bones was one step. Soon, Angela would bend the demon to her will with the threat of silencing it forever. Remnants of the forbidden ritual remained engraved in her mind. The rest, the part she wasn’t allowed to read, was in a Book of Shadows hidden somewhere in this house.

Muffled voices from the room above interrupted the dead’s incessant whispers.

Author Info

Drawn to playwriting from an early age, S.A. Sizemore began writing professionally while studying English and theater arts in college. After producing several plays regionally in Southern California, Sizemore pivoted to the themed entertainment industry. Whispers of the Pale Witch is the first installment of the Beckett Coven series inspired by Sizemore’s ancestral connection to the Salem Witch Trials. She is a full member of the Dramatists Guild of America, proud member of the LGBTQ+ community, European and Cherokee/Chickahominy decent, and resides in California with her wife and two dogs, Agatha and Harry.

The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview with . . . S.A. Sizemore . . . 

How would you describe your style of writing to someone that has never read your work? 

In terms of how I create a story, I’m very much what I call and hourglass writer. I spend a great deal of time researching my plot ideas and characters while I create an outline. That might take months or years. Once I’m ready, I crank out the first draft within a month or two. Then I spend a great deal of time rewriting, editing, and polishing. 

Regarding the writing itself, I write in the 3rd person and jump back and forth between the characters’ prospectives. One moment you are seeing what’s happening through my protagonist’s eyes, then a couple of paragraphs later you are seeing the same thing through a different character, perhaps even the villain. Those shifting perspectives give the reader a constantly shifting view of what’s going on. It can also build great tension when you see two people struggling to communicate with one another, hiding secrets, or manipulating one another. 

I often don’t like telling a completely linear story. Time will become quite fluid as we go further along in this book series. 

My background is in script writing, so my ability to propel a story through dialogue is strong. I love writing the way people actually talk. We stop and start, change subjects suddenly, and talk over one another.

Do you feel that writing is an ingrained process or just something that flows naturally for you? 

My mother claimed that I wrote my first play when I was six years old. I think that might be a bit far-fetched, but I have been a script writer my whole life up until now. 

Writing is kind of a compulsion for me. I get high off it. There’s definitely a process I’ve developed over the years and when I jumped to novel writing, that process became very important. Writing a script is like doing a Cross Fit competition, but writing a novel is like running a marathon. Both take discipline and preparation. I think writing a novel, for me, requires a lot of prep work. Once I do that prep, then the writing just flows.

Do you take your character prep to heart? Do you nurture the growth of each character all the way through to the page? 

I think my main characters develop organically when I first start thinking about a plot. Then as I outline it further, other characters pop in. Once I kind of have a general idea of who each one is, then I start visualizing them more. 

I use Trello to organize my thoughts, and one of my lists contains just characters. I’ll find an actor who I think looks like my character and throw a photo of them into that character’s card. Then I write down adjectives to describe them and fill in their history. From that I will often create an illustrated character sketch using the paint tools in Photoshop. You can find the Beckett Coven sketches on my website.

It’s also important to assign each of them a secret. What are they hiding from other people and what are they hiding from themselves? For a series, I think that should change a bit for each book. Maybe they shared a secret already, but a change in events, created a new secret. Or maybe they never resolved a secret within themselves. Or they are worried about a secret someone else may be hiding. 

Do you people watch to help with character(s) development? Or do you build upon your characters during story creation? 

I think as a writer we should always be looking at everyone around us. Not copying them as a character but taking little bits of them and storing it for later. Character creation can be weird sometimes. I think almost every writer talks about their characters taking control at times. Sometimes I feel like they are telling me what to do as opposed to me making them do things.

One of my characters for the Beckett Coven series was originally written as a white woman, but as I developed her further, Finlay Williams made it very clear that she wanted to be a Black woman from Savannah and a former Wiccan High Priestess. And I was not about to argue with her. 

Some of the characters I created for this series are my actual ancestors. My tenth great-grandparents, John and Mary Ingersoll, are a great example. I originally wrote their marriage as being strained and unhappy. They let me know in no uncertain terms that I was getting that wrong. An unexpected article I found made me realize that theirs was probably a strong and happy relationship. A lot of effort was taken to make sure that Puritan couples were a good match for one another. They typically didn’t marry until they were in their mid-twenties. Men had to establish themselves and build (or inherit) their own home before they could find a life partner. Once the couple decided to consider marriage, the young man actually spent the night with the young woman. A board was placed between them in the bed. Parents kept a bit of a watchful eye, but the whole point was to give the couple privacy so they could talk and make sure they were a good fit. It totally reshaped my view of Puritan households and marriages. So, I took the hint and rewrote them. John and Mary are so much more interesting now. Their relationship is complex. They perform a complicated dance of compromises, even in difficult moments, as opposed to the flat and angry biases I had initially thrown at them. 

Have you found yourself bonding with any particular character(s)? If so, which one(s)? 

Oh my gosh, that’s a hard question. I feel like I’m so bonded with all of them now after spending three books with them. But I’m probably most bonded with my ancestors and Bridget Bishop. Bridget was the first woman executed during the Salem Witch Trials. She was innocent of the charges against her, as were the other accused persons. Most likely she was the victim of a judge who simply didn’t like her. 

Bridget is the soul of this book series, and it has been very important that I breathe life into her story. I feel so often she and the others get reduced to being a name on a memorial. Bridget’s story gets frozen in time at the worst moment of her life. The written testimonies during her trial are just a bunch of tall tales and nasty rumors about her. I wanted to find the real Bridget behind all of that because I know she was so much more. 

From her questioning on April 19th, 1692, the only time we get to hear her voice, you can tell she was probably very smart, charming, and witty. She liked to bargain, which wasn’t very socially acceptable among the Puritans. She also didn’t suffer fools lightly. If you were talking behind her back she would walk right up to you and confront you about it. When her second husband beat her, she beat him right back. 

Bridget was a bit of a fashionista, too. She liked wearing expensive fabrics and would add bits of colored cloth to make them even more interesting. Again, not something the Puritans found endearing. 

I think it’s hard for me not to sympathize with Bridget, since I’m certain if I was in Salem in 1692 I probably would have been targeted as well.

Can you share your next creative project(s)? If yes, can you give a few details? Right now, I’m all in on the Beckett Coven series. The first book Whispers of the Pale Witch comes out this September. The second book Lies of the Bishop Stone comes out in 2027. I just got the synopsis of the third book to my publisher, so we will announce its title and publishing date very soon. The series will complete after the third book, but I may find some ways to tell spin-off stories. Other than that, I’d like to work on a speculative historical fiction focusing on my Ingersoll ancestors, but without the fictional witchy stuff. I think it would be interesting to examine their lives through three generations of women.

What are some of your writing/publishing goals for this year?

After Whispers comes out, I need to focus on the edits for Lies. Then I need to get cranking on the final book. It needs some rewrites before we can start the editing process. If Whispers does well, I also want to do an audio book of it. I have a really great narrator in mind, so hopefully we can make that happen.

Website: https://www.beckettcoven.com

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Readers Group:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1432502558353371/ 

Goodreads: 

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/222468899-whispers-of-the-pale-witch

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SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - ROM-COM LGBTQ+ - WHEN HARRY MET CHARLIE by Donna Costa

Can two men who clash over everything ever agree on love?

When Harry Met Charlie
by Donna Costa
Genre: MM Romantic Comedy

Harry is a number-cruncher. Charlie is a people-person. One is bubbly and optimistic, the other serious and pessimistic. With an endless stream of verbal sparring and heated debates filling the car on their road trip from Vancouver to Toronto, they arrive at the conclusion they are complete opposites and go their separate ways.

When they meet years later – older, wiser, and love-worn – will their sparring become a prelude to romance? An exciting turn on? Will they be there for each other when it’s needed most?

Boys’ Love + Nora Ephron Fan Fiction = When Harry Met Charlie

“Fun, funny and wonderfully delightful! Reminds you of experiencing your first crush – I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!” – Leeanne Whitehouse, Pure Country Morning Host

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Chapter 1

    It’s 1977. Harry Burns has just graduated from law school on the West Coast and is standing at the window of his third-story dorm watching for the arrival of his ride to Toronto. He crosses his arms and drums his fingers impatiently.

Behind him, Harry’s friend and dorm mate Rufus is vigorously kissing his girlfriend, Sally. They’re sighing and murmuring to each other. Oh, I’m going to miss you so much. I love you. Will we ever see each other again? Kiss me again. Harry rolls his eyes.

Out the window, Harry spots a VW Beetle pulling up to the curb across the campus green. Rays from the rising sun glint off the car roof. He pushes his glasses up his nose and shouts, “Ride’s here, Rufus.”

Harry slings his backpack over one shoulder and wedges a heavy box of textbooks under his arm, then grabs his suitcase with his other hand. Why couldn’t someone invent luggage with wheels? Struggling to carry all his gear, Harry loses patience with the couple’s sloppy sweet-nothings and shoves Rufus’ arm none too gently, dislodging him from the embrace. “C’mon. Let’s go!”

“Bye, sweet-ums!” Rufus gives Sally one last smooch. “I’ll call as soon as I get there.” He stares longingly into her eyes and blows her a kiss, then snatches up his duffel and follows Harry down the stairs.

Harry stops as they reach the VW, taking in the vomit-green color, which reminds him of the nauseating flight he took from Toronto when he moved west to start university. He’s in no hurry to repeat that experience. A two-day nonstop road trip is the lesser of two evils.

He eyes the car’s thick rust and immediately wonders if the car will make it all the way across the country. With two unknowns—the driver he’s never met and the state of the car—his anxiety increases. Why hadn’t he been more prepared, done more research? Am I going to regret this?

A young man gets out of the VW, and Rufus, the common denominator, makes the introductions.

“Charlie, this is Harry, my roommate here in Vancouver and my pal growing up in small-town Ontario. Harry, meet Charlie, my friend from karaoke. That’s where Charlie told me he was headed to Toronto, like you, and why I suggested you ride together.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it isn’t this. Shouldn’t a future flight attendant be clean-cut and well groomed? Instead, Charlie has the appearance of a furry teddy bear. Even his forearms, visible below the short sleeves of his Oscar Wilde T-shirt, are bushy. His faded bellbottoms are a little too tight. Is that the start of a pot belly? Don’t flight attendants have weight restrictions? He extends his hand to Charlie for a handshake.

As Charlie settles behind the wheel of the Beetle, Harry places his suitcase and textbooks on the back floor behind the passenger seat. A Coleman thermos and small picnic cooler already take up the floor space on the driver’s side. Harry folds his long frame onto the rear seat beside Charlie’s nineteen-inch Electrohome TV, complete with rabbit ears. The only place for his feet is atop the box of his books. He squeezes his knees together and holds his backpack on his lap. It’s only a short drive to the airport. I can manage.

Rufus jumps into the front passenger seat. The bud vase on the dash holding a single daisy catches his attention, and he flashes a peace sign at Charlie. “Cool!”

“I knew you’d like it,” Charlie says, beaming a hundred-watt smile. He grabs an imaginary microphone. “Good morning, ladies, ahem, gentlemen. Welcome aboard Flight 2B with service from Vancouver to Toronto, with a short layover at the airport. We expect to be on the road for approximately forty-eight hours. Please fasten your seatbelts and stow your baggage. Please note there are two exits.” Charlie points at the car doors, then adds, “Thank you for choosing Charlie’s VW Air.”

Harry rolls his eyes and wonders if he’ll have to put up with aviation demonstrations every time Charlie takes the wheel.

Maybe flying would have been a better option?

Too late now.

Donna Costa draws on her love of romance, both novels and movies, plus her years in the aviation industry for When Harry Met Charlie. She writes in a variety of genres including YA, memoir, romance, and historical fiction. She lives in London, Ontario.

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SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPRT - CONTEMPORARY - LOVING HER ENEMY by Sharon C. Cooper

Falling in love was never part of the deal. 

Loving Her Enemy
by Sharon C. Cooper
Genre: Billionaire Fake Dating Romance

A billionaire businessman. 

A heartbroken, unemployed chemist. 

A marriage agreement that can benefit them both.

Billionaire businessman Sloane Davidson needs a wife—fast. And although Halayna Tanaka is ten years younger than him, and an enticing temptation he managed to resist years ago, she's perfect for the role. But she thinks he's some gold-plated scumbag and wants nothing to do with him.

After a devastating string of bad luck, Halayna is struggling to stay afloat in a world that keeps knocking her down. So when Sloane, her best friend’s brother, offers a marriage of convenience as a solution to both their problems, she’s tempted. The thing is she can't stand him. He may be the sexiest man on the planet, but he’s also arrogant, infuriating, and overbearing. She shouldn’t want him. Shouldn’t even give him the time of day. Yet, her body ignites with desire whenever he’s around.

Is selling out to a billionaire worth it? Especially if he tempts her beyond her control. Or is this marriage of convenience the path to the love she always dreamed of?

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Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.

Running as if her ass was on fire, Halayna took the steps two at a time and burst into her bedroom suite, slamming the door behind her. Struggling to get air into her lungs, she paced the length of the room a couple of times before collapsing face first onto the king size bed.

What the heck had just happened?

One minute, she and Sloane were talking, laughing, and eating, and in the next minute, they were hugged up together kissing.

“Oh my God!” Halayna groaned into the mattress as the full weight of what they’d done hit her. He was her best friend’s brother. A man who was so far out of her league, it was laughable. Yet, he had kissed her, and it hadn’t been just any kiss, but a kiss that had her questioning her sanity.

Sloane kissed me… and I liked it… a lot.

Oh man, she more than liked it. She wanted a repeat. A repeat of his full, demanding mouth taking what he wanted from her. A repeat of the way he held her close to his big, hard, muscular body, and she wanted a repeat of how good it felt being held in his strong, unyielding arms.

For those few minutes, with their tongues tangling, all Halayna’s thoughts and worries had fallen away, and in their place had been a peace she hadn’t felt in months or maybe even years. Sloane had somehow made her feel more cherished than she’d ever felt by a man. Which was saying a lot since she’d been engaged to be married and supposedly crazy in love with Owen.

She snorted at the thought. Talk about her picker being off when it came to choosing men. It was a good thing her relationship with Owen had imploded. Marrying him would’ve been a huge mistake because kissing and being with him had felt nothing like what she had just experienced.

Kissing Sloane had felt like a dream. Like something straight out of a sexy fairy tale, an X-rated fairy tale. But this wasn’t a fantasy. His kiss and the way he’d held her had been very real. She still felt his lips covering hers and the taste of him lingered on her tongue.

How was that possible when it had been just one kiss? One soul-stirring, passionate kiss.

It was clear she and Owen hadn’t had a strong connection. Not like what she had felt a short while ago with Sloane, and that realization had her shook. She almost married a man she was sure she’d been in love with. Yet, she never felt the intense desire and passion swirling inside of her. Never felt that I-can’t-live-without-you vibe.

How was that even possible?

Halayna flipped onto her back, and as her heart rate slowly went back to normal, she stared at the ceiling, her mind reeling at these new realizations. The most shocking one was Sloane wanting her to agree to a marriage of convenience… with him.

She shook her head. Sloane Davidson, the wealthiest man she’d ever known, had asked her to marry him. He wanted her to be his fake wife. No, not fake. Just convenient. Wait. Not convenient. He wanted a marriage of convenience. But what the hell did that even mean?

USA Today bestselling author Sharon C. Cooper loves anything involving romance with a happily-ever-after, whether in books, movies, or real life. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, as well as romantic comedy. She enjoys rainy days, carpet picnics, and family game night. Her stories have won numerous awards, including The Rochelle Alers Best Series award for her Atlanta’s Finest Series (2022) and The Beverly Jenkins Author of the Year award (2021). When she isn’t writing, Sharon loves hanging out with her amazing husband, doing volunteer work, or reading a good book (a romance of course). To read more about Sharon and her novels, or to sign up to be notified of her latest releases, visit www.sharoncooper.net

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