A Double Play Summer by L.M. Richardson


What starts as the best summer ever, quickly turns into a foul play. D.J. has to give up her bedroom, and the most important softball tournament of her short career, for Gran. Without D.J. the team isn’t confident they’ll be able to make it past the Summer Softball Showdown for a shot at Nationals. Being at Gran’s turns out to be more rewarding than D.J. could have imagined. Unexpectedly, Gran becomes her biggest advocate and cheerleader.






            Eight is her number 

            McKinley is her name 

            Yes, she is the reason  

            We’re gonna win this game.  

            The dugout is cheering and going crazy. The bases are loaded and Big Mac is up to bat. Although she’s skinny, she got the nickname because she’s a finisher. Known for being a clutch player, sending balls deep into center field. McKinley’s hit the scoreboard at least five times this season and has knocked the ball over the fence at least six times. Someone from the stands once hollered Big Mac, and the name stuck.  

            It’s a full count with two strikes, three balls at the bottom of the seventh inning, and we’re down by two. If Big Mac lives up to her reputation, she’ll bring us all home, and we’ll win the game.  

             “Stay calm and focus,” Coach Todd yelled from the coach’s box. 

            The pitcher throws the ball, and crack! Big Mac sends the ball deep into center field right over the fence. Our dugout goes wild and they all run to home plate to welcome us in chanting: 

            Come home  

            Come home 

            We miss you  

            We miss you 

            Come home  

            Come home  

            “That’s the ball game!” The umpire yells.  

            It’s shaping up to be the best summer ever! I’m playing my dream position and our team chemistry is the best it’s ever been. Most of us have played together since twelve and under softball and we’re genuine friends. Coach says you can’t buy the kind of chemistry we’ve developed over the years.  

            I’ll dream about this game for months to come. I had four runs, made four outs, and almost a double play. Jade, my best friend and our first baseman, dropped the ball. But we’re working on making that play work. By the big tournament, we should have mastered it. We’re practicing, but game situations always come out different. 

            On the drive home, I gave a recap of the highlights to my family. They could barely get a word in. Mama finally said, “When we get home, we need to talk.”  


                “Are you kidding me?” I said, dropping into a chair at the kitchen table. “But it’s a big tournament for our team. Ma, it’s a big tournament for me!” 

            “There will be more tournaments this summer and the next. There is more to life than playing softball. Gran’s house is too much for her to take care of by herself, and her health has not been the best lately. She needs our help and we are going to give it to her. Our family is important and it comes first above everything else.” 

            “What about Uncle Jaxon or Auntie Liv and their families? Can’t they do it, or at least help? Why do we have to do it?”  

            “I can’t count on either of them right now. Your dad and I have discussed it and our decision is final.” 

            “And you never considered how your decision would impact me, or even how I’d feel about it? I’ve worked hard, really hard over, the last year to get better. And now that I’ve finally secured my position as shortstop, you’re snatching the rug from under me. I’m not saying I don’t want to help Gran, but can we do it after my tournament?” 

            “Don’t be so dramatic, Daisy. We’re all making sacrifices. And, I need you to move your things into your brother’s room before we leave. When we return, I want the room to be ready for your Gran.” 

            “D.J., Ma. Will you please call me D.J. all the time?” 

            From where I sit, it looks like I’m the only one making sacrifices around here. Gran is coming to live with all of us, but I’m having to give up my room and miss a crucial tournament. Other than my parents’ bedroom, mine is the next largest, with an ensuite bathroom. Daddy says he wants Gran to have her privacy.  

            I have to move in with J.P., my nine-year-old brother. His room smells like old cheese, he farts in his sleep, and still has an imaginary friend. I’d be better off sleeping in a closet. Since I’m a girl, my older brother, J.R. and J.P. should share a room. My parents wouldn’t even entertain the thought. So, I’m stuck.  

            Like I said before, I’m missing a crucial softball tournament. Mama thinks it’s just another tournament in a summer of tournaments. It’s so much more. I’ve worked my butt off to move from outfield to shortstop. I’ve practiced all year long, including during the off-season. I’ve always wanted to play shortstop since I first started playing when I was nine years old. Daddy took me to see a college softball game. Kattie Pierre was the shortstop. She was ridiculously good, catching balls and tagging runners between first and second base. Kattie stopped a ground ball, tagged second base, slung it to first, making a double play. From that day, I set my sights on playing shortstop just like her.  

            My coaches have always put me in the outfield because of my speed. Finally, Coach Todd gave me a chance to play in-field. So far this season, I’ve led our team in runs and outs. I haven’t made a double-play yet, but I’m looking forward to that day. I don’t want to let our team down.  

            This upcoming tournament is a game-changer for all of us. It’s the Super Summer Classic Showdown in Chicago. The top two teams are guaranteed a bid to the Midwest Nationals in Chicago. Coach Todd says we have a good shot. Playing on that level is the kind of opportunity softball players only get in their dreams. And it can open doors that high school leagues can’t. There will be college coaches from all over the U.S. looking for their next standout player. Although Kattie Pierre hasn’t played for years, she still attends.   

            When we return to practice tomorrow, I will have to tell my teammates and coach, that I won’t be going with them to the big tournament, and their shot at Nationals is basically in the hands of Mya.


a signed copy of A Double Play Summer!



As far back as she can remember, L.M. Richardson has wanted to be a writer. Her start came with a sixth-grade writing contest.Children’s books have always been her favorite of all other genres. Writing for children has always been her passion. Her aim is to create books where black young women can see themselves and be proud of who they are.Richardson is a wife, mother, and grandmother who enjoys spending time with her large family, relaxing on her patio, and cooking. She’s a college instructor at the University of Arkansas at Pine Bluff, her Alma Mater, and has a MA in Journalism.




When I saw this cover, one song immediately came to mind:

Who dat is? Thas just my baby daddy..


Shanice Lawrence has met the perfect man. He’s sexy, considerate, and best of all, he loves to read. She’s certain she’s found the man of her dreams—until she learns the truth about the real reason for his appearance in her life.

Cruz Cordoba’s mission was simple: get close to Shanice, retrieve the data, and kill anyone who gets in his way—including her. He didn’t anticipate, however, falling for the voluptuous bookstore clerk. Now, he has to decide what’s more important—the mission or the woman.


Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08K87RMV2

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08K87RMV2

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08K87RMV2

Apple: Coming soon

BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/until-now-delaney-diamond/1137767860?ean=2940162962991

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/until-now-14

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Delaney_Diamond_Until_Now?id=ppb_DwAAQBAJ


Website: https://www.delaneydiamond.com/

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

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/DelaneyDiamond

Scandalous Secrets by Synithia Williams


Can they do what’s right…without betraying their hearts?

Senatorial candidate Byron Robidoux always does the right thing. And, after years of focus and dedication, his life and campaign are going exactly to plan—until a blackmailer jeopardizes everything. No one is supposed to know that thirteen years ago, Byron told a lie to protect a college friend. And now that lie could destroy his career…and threaten the woman he never stopped loving.

Zoe Hammond hardly recognizes the refined and handsome politician Byron has become. The last time she saw him, he was the friend who saved her life by claiming to be the father of her unborn baby. For that, she’d do anything for him. Except Byron’s world of wealth, reputation and deceit isn’t a place where Zoe or her daughter belong. But when a menace from the past comes calling again, staying with Byron is best for them all. And, as the searing attraction between them builds, they soon realize some things are worth fighting for…especially love.





signed copy of Scandalous Secrets



Synithia Williams has loved romance novels since reading her first one at the age of 13. It was only natural that she would one day write her own romance. When she isn’t writing, Synithia works on water quality issues in the Midlands of South Carolina while taking care of her supportive husband and two sons. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, www.synithiawilliams.com.

Monday Musings: If 2020 Were a Book

What would it be called?

I haven’t figured that part out yet, but here’s the cover:

And here are the chapters:

Chapter 1: Happy New Year! A New Decade! The Roaring 20s!

Little did we know, this bitch would roar mightier than Mufasa, Scar, Simba, Nala, and even that punk-ass Cowardly Lion.

Chapter 2: See, What I Had Heard…

Some shit might be going down, but we’ll be aight, tho.

Chapter 3: A Small, Intimate Affair

You can have your lil wedding but no more than ten to fifty people. Oh, and don’t even think about a European honeymoon, but I heard you could get some cheap flights to Florida.

Chapter 4: Stay Yo Ass at Home!

See, it ain’t safe in these streets, and you ain’t got no job anyway—at least, not anymore. Take this piece of check and ration it wisely ’cause if you have no savings…¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 5: Buckle Up, Buttercup

Oh, you thought this was over? It’s never leaving you, thanks to yo trifling-ass, selfish-ass, ignant-ass friends, neighbors, and even some family members. Hope you like sourdough!

Chapter 6: Can I Live?

I mean, shit! I got Rona’s bitch ass and a whole squad of blue la-goons both literally tryna extract the air from my lungs.

Chapter 7: Tear It TF Down!

Oh, we got time ta-day.

Chapter 8a: Boy Bye

Sis said youon’t want none ’cause I ain’t the one.

Chapter 8b: A King Rests

“You have to cherish things in a different way when you know the clock is ticking…”

I’m tired, y’all. Like mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. I’ll holla…

Roux the Dae by Dahlia Rose



Add a dash of cinnamon for that perfect love… That can’t be right. 

Summer cookoff time! Dae Shaw was going to enter this year and she would be bringing the fire with her Granny Fran’s super-secret cookbook recipes. Grannie Fran didn’t mention that the cookbook passed down through the family was charmed. At the cook off, everyone wanted a taste, and the consequences, started with flowers, then cards and unwanted advances rolling in. The drop-dead sexy Councilman, Shawn Kingsley was one of the judges at the cookout and he’s one of her suitors. Dae isn’t to upset about that at all.

But when her nemesis Jane Moore whose food reflected her personality… nasty accuses her of cheating for one and stealing the man of her dream in the councilman. Dae was over it all and was ready to give everyone that damn antidote. But what if all of Shawn’s sweet kisses and caresses were all because of a spell and not because of her? Dae needed to see the truth even if it meant the heart between them would fizzle. She only hoped the cookbook had a recipe for curing a broken heart.




          “Nothing at all,” Grannie Fran’s voice raised an octave. “Tell me darling, how much of my cinnamon did you use?”

         “Why?” Dae questioned

         Grannie Fran set a teabag in her cup and got out the pure cane sugar jug. “Just curious.”

         “I used the recommended amount…”

         “Oh good,” Grannie Fran sighed.

         “It tasted wonderfully, and I added three more dashes,” Dae finished.

         Grannie Fran squeaked and dropped her spoon. “What!”

         “Yeah I loved how the cinnamon evened out the curry and the spices with bite,” Dae explained. “It worked everyone loved it.”

         “I’m sure they did,” Grannie Fran said weakly. “Oh boy, oh boy, I need to sit down.”

         “Do I need to call Dr. Ridgemont?” Dae rushed around the counter and got Grannie to the breakfast nook seat that looked out to the back garden and ocean. She went back and finished her grandmother’s tea before bringing it to the table.

         “No, no dear,” Grannie Fran took the tea. “Sir down dear we need to talk.”

         “About?” Dae asked warily. “The conversation had taken a turn, to where she was unsure.

         “Oh Dae, always follow the recipe,” Grannie Fran bemoaned. ‘I should have had this talk with you sooner, like my mother did with me. But your parents passed, and I was so focused on being both mother and father to you.”

         Dae’s heart beat faster. “Okay you are scaring me.”

         “Dae, that cookbook is charmed, and that cinnamon is one of my secret love spells,” Grannie Fran said. “I’m a caster, a green witch so to speak, I used herbs and plants, well earth elements for healing and other things.”

         Dae stared at her grandmother and then started laughing. It bubbled out of her until she was weeping and wiping the tears of mirth away. Grannie Fran watched her calmly and sipped her tea while Dae tried to stifle her giggles.

         “Grannie Fran, you are so strange sometimes,” Dae sighed.

         “Dae have you ever read the back of the cookbook?” Gran asked calmly.

         “I’ve never really gone through the whole thing, just a few recipes,” She answered.

         “Well you really should today, this cookbook came from my great great grandmother,” Grannie Fran explained. ‘That’s why it’s so old, passed down from mother to daughter and now to you. In those days when the slave shacks and plantation houses was our home, there was very little food and the women had to make sure the families was fed. The back of that book is the oldest recipes, and us Renette women had the gifts.”

         Grannie Fran took a sip and set her cup gently on the table before meeting Dae’s eyes. “Within us was the power to make that dry soil they gave us to toil for our own families fertile. We made the foods taste so damn good we didn’t have to face the whips. Those of us who could use that magic to be in the owner’s ears and make life easier for all of us who weren’t free men and women. Not everyone could run, so we had to make sure we survived. The old magic was the best way.”

         “You are trying to make me believe that your recipes are magical?” Dae asked skeptically. How could she believe this? But Grannie Fran looked dead serious.

         “Not the recipes themselves but some of the ingredients,” her grandmother explained. “Like the cinnamon, that’s my own creation for love.”

         “And you think that’s why all these guys are chasing me down now,” Dae assumed. Because of Frangelica’s cinnamon.”

         Gran sighed and touched her fingers to the soil of the succulent that sat in the middle of the breakfast nook table. As she whispered words that Dae could barely hear, she watched in amazement as the succulent began to bloom.

         “Holy shit,” Dae looked from Gran to the plant. “You have magic fingers.”

         “While some of my lovers may agree with you,” she laughed. “I am just a conduit, the words, the intent is the power and its within you too.”

         “Oh my god, if they are all coming after my honey pot because of that recipe how the hell do I fix it?” Dae got up and started pacing. “And Sean asked me out after eating the braised beef. Grannie Fran that means he really doesn’t want to date me is your damn juju.”

         “Oh, I doubt that very much,” she said mildly still sipping her tea. “Sean Kingsley has always had a thing for you since high school. Heard how he used to sniff around you.”

         “Gran, I have been back here for four years and he has not made a move in my direction until that cook off,” Dae pointed out. “How can I trust anything about this at all except to think it’s the recipe. And how do we get these guys to go back to normal?”

         “Usually I would say it would wear off, but you double dosed the recipe, my love,” Grannie Fran said.

         “Ummm,” Dae raised a tentative hand. “I kinda did it three times and just dashed it in there.”

         “Dae that is not how you cook!” His grandmother exclaimed.

         Dae pointed at her and shook a long finger. “You taught me to cook with heart and you said, trust your instinct when it comes to spices. Let the ancestors whisper to you, is what I was told.”

         “I’m sure that the Renette women that have gone by did not say overdose the men in town with charmed cinnamon,” her grandmother stood up. “I’m going to have to create an antidote.”

         “How long will that take?” Dae asked.

         “About two weeks I can’t harvest the herbs I need until a waning moon so it can take away the effects,” she replied.

“A waning moon?” Dae questioned.

“After the full moon, and its going to the end of its cycle,” Grannie Fran stood and put the cup in the sink. “I’ll go up right now and sort out a recipe for the antidote.”

“How am I supposed to avoid these people for fourteen days?” Dae demanded to know.

Grannie Fran smiled. ‘With finesse my darling.”


Roux the Dae potholder & $10 Amazon gift card



Dahlia Rose is the USA Today best-selling multi genre author from Urban fantasy to Romance. She was born and raised on the Caribbean island of Barbados and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Her life revolves around her kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn and her husband who is also a honorable retired Army veteran. She has a love of dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over seven dozen books published her books feature strong heroines with a Caribbean or African American culture, that is showcased in the vibrancy of her words. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books.




Truth and love can change everything.

New Orleans attorney, L. Morgan Franklin, finds her well-ordered life turned upside down when her younger half-brother, Winston, dies in their small hometown of L’Ouverture, Louisiana. When it becomes evident that Winston’s death may actually be a murder, Morgan begins a search for answers that uncovers long-held family secrets and new discoveries about the people she loves the most. The mysteries of family, life and love all converge in this story of one woman’s refusal to accept things as they appear.





Grief and the sickeningly sweet smell of too many flowers hung heavy in the warm air of the late August afternoon. Morgan felt the weight of tears shed and hearts breaking. She rubbed her hands down her black silk suit when she walked slowly toward the simple wooden coffin that held the body of her beloved baby brother, Winston. “Half-brother.” She could almost imagine her mother, Marie, standing in front of her and uttering the world “half” as if it were some sort of disease. Morgan breathed deeply and pushed Marie’s words from her mind as she exhaled. They had no place here.

Winston’s mask-like, powered face somehow belied the words “heart attack” that still echoed in her head. Morgan stepped away from the coffin and quickly brushed away her tears. She fled the church and barely heard the words of comfort tossed her way. Outside there would be air she could breathe without inhaling the pain of mourners.

Morgan moved quickly once outside. Her legs felt somehow lighter than they had only moments before. She breathed deeply for the first time since she had received the news of Winston’s death a week ago and headed for the sanctuary of her car. The tinkling melody of the car alarm signaled her safe haven. She slid onto the butter-soft, caramel-colored leather seat and found comfort in its warmth. She cranked up the car, pushed the button to lower the windows and turned on the CD player. The soulful sound of Jill Scott’s voice surrounded her as she watched the family file out of the church and head toward limousines with the words Garrett Bros. painted in gold across the rear doors and windows. Of course, it would be Garrett Bros. They were still the only mortuary in town that “knew how to do colored.” Morgan had heard her maternal grandmother, Essie Baptiste, say that many times while she was growing up. Mama Essie, as everyone lovingly called her, had made everyone in the family vow to take her body to Garrett Bros. when her time came. Although it had been three years since Mama Essie passed, Morgan still felt her presence in this place. This thought alone eased the tension in her neck and removed the large knot that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach.


a signed copy of Unveiled!



La Rhonda Crosby-Johnson is a proud native of Oakland, CA. She is a contributor to the award-winning Life’s Spices From Seasoned Sistahs anthology series, Go Tell Michelle: African American Women Write To The New First Lady, All The Women In My Family Sing and is the author of an ebook serial novel Jubilee’s Journey. Unveiled, released in July 2019 and described as a “page turner” is her first full-length novel. La Rhonda is currently working on her next book.






Ava is the sweetest, f*ckin’, most forbidden fruit that I should’ve never tasted yet the only one who seems to hear my silent cry for help. I warned her that she should turn away and run in the other f*ckin’ direction, but she stayed and decided to love me instead. Flaws and all.

I have secrets. Who doesn’t? But the ones I have are caged for a reason and if released could send me straight to hell, along with the love of my life—because I refuse to let her go.







Manwhore…womanizer…walking STD…These are only a few of the many insulting words that I’ve been labeled —all because of my love for pussy, more pussy, all the pussy. I love the way it smells, tastes, and looks, but most importantly, the way it wraps around my dick, all snuggly and shit, when I’m buried deep inside of it. My therapist believes I’m a sex addict. Shrug. Maybe I am, but if you ask me, I’m just misunderstood. Now, I agree that I have a fucked-up past when it comes to my sex life. Trust me, I’ve learned from it, though. That’s what life is all about, right? Making mistakes and hopefully, just maybe, you’ll learn from them. My past fuck-ups have steered me into a lifestyle of celibacy. Don’t believe me? You should meet my two new best friends, a jar of coconut oil and my right hand.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks and look around the tent at the many guests that showed up for Kennedy’s graduation party. My eyes glide over familiar, and a few unfamiliar, faces, in search of my date. Yes, you heard right. Date. If it weren’t for my lovely twin sister Morgan, I would’ve come solo. Especially since the one she set me up with is Helena, a cute, petite blonde with a nice set of tits that I’ve actually titty-fucked a couple of times in my unsavory past. I guess my sister didn’t get the memo that you don’t hook your brother up with someone who gives blowjobs like it’s a fuckin’ hobby. It’s bad for a supposed sex addict like me. But my sister insisted I get out, have fun, and stop moping after a woman that I’ll probably never have again.

Never say never. 

I look down at my watch, wondering where the hell my appointed date is. She told me that she needed to use the bathroom, but that was almost—thirty minutes ago? Damn, maybe she got lost. She isn’t the brightest bulb in the box. My eyes continue searching. Morgan and her new fiancé Tyler, Kennedy, my mom, Aunt Betty, Ava, Hunter…Ava?!? My eyes rewind back to the sight of Ava standing there in a tight, black, strapless dress with a neckline that draws all of your attention to her tits. Her long, black, naturally curly hair, blended with reddish-brown highlights, is pulled up in a bun with some curly strands feathering around her face and neck. Damn, she’s a fuckin’ goddess.

Me Bryce, you Ava. I become all Tarzan, inwardly beating my chest. Like a mad man on a mission, I make several long strides across the makeshift dance floor. Ava doesn’t see me stalking toward her because her backside is facing me. My eyes journey from the top of her head down to her delectable ass. Fuck! My dick roars to life.

“Hey, Bryce,” a very out-of-breath Hunter greets me as soon as I breeze past him and his date Michael dancing the Lambada. I don’t acknowledge him or anyone else around me and let my mind and body gravitate toward Ava.

I can feel her flinch as soon as my body presses against hers from behind. I wrap my right arm around her waist then place my hand flat against her stomach, bringing her back to mold against my body. I can feel her heart beating through her back and the rapid movement of her stomach against my palm. When I bring my lips to her ear, a shiver courses through her body. Her back curves, drawing my growing erection to nestle against luscious ass. “You’re here. I thought you had to work late,” I softly moan and brush my lips alongside her earlobe.

Ava slowly pivots around to face me, and damn, she’s even more beautiful up close and personal. My eyes drop down to her plump lips painted in a deep shade of red then they glide back up to a set of hooded, hazel eyes surrounded by dark, elongated lashes.

I lick my lips then clear my throat of the dryness building in my mouth. Shit, why do I feel like an inexperienced, hormonal teenage boy all of a sudden?

Ava steps forward, closing the mere inches she created between us when she turned around to face me. “Yes, I’m here.” Her lips creep into a slow, sexy smile. “I would’ve been here earlier,” her hands reach up to fix the collar of my button-down, “but I really needed to stay and make sure I had all the files needed for court tomorrow. I still can’t believe my dad is letting me sit in on this case.” She smiles and it brightens up my whole fuckin’ world. “After I left work, I went home, got dressed, and came here to be your date.” Her hands slide down to rest on my pecs.

I gently palm her face, instantly loving the way her lips part slightly. I lower my head, inhaling the hitch of breath that escapes her mouth. I want to kiss her so fuckin’ bad that I couldn’t care less that there are watchful eyes around us or that my date could return any second now and fuck this entire moment up. My dick throws a tantrum behind the seams of my zipper, and I can’t blame him because all it wants to do is come out to play with Ava’s mouth and sweet, tight pussy. By the grace of God and pure fuckin’ patience, I tap down the feral beast inside of me that wants to devour Ava, inch by inch, and declare her mine forever and ever.

“Oh, Bryce, there you are. I must’ve gotten lost.” I hear Helena giggling behind me then she comes into view on my left, looking high as a kite and weaving side-to-side that she has to brace my arm for support. Fuck! “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too—“

Several gasps fill the tent at the sight of my date (Thanks,Morgan) who spews chunks of God-knows-what all over the front of Ava’s dress.

“Oops,” she has the fuckin’ nerve to laugh. “I’m so sorry.” Her pale skin turns a shade of green. “Bryce, I don’t feel so good.” Helena weaves my way then projects more vomit. I hop back in time for it not to get me.

I look up to see the only woman who’s ever held the key to my heart, my saving grace, flail her arms out to shake Helena’s vomit from her skin in disgust.

Fuck, can my night get any worse?


$25 Amazon gift card



Danyell A. Wallace was born in Alaska and is currently living in Alabama. She’s a mom to three awesome kids, and a wife to an incredibly supportive husband. When shes not using her imagination to write very adult, very sexy books, shes reading, spending time with family and friends, watching football, and catching up on TV shows that she has saved on the DVR.



Blog Tour: A Reunion of Rivals by Reese Ryan


Sparks in the boardroom
and the bedroom…

She can’t let anything derail her passion project,
Not even a second chance with the sexiest man alive…

The deal that could bring Quinn Bazemore’s career back from the brink has one catch: she must partner up with her ex-lover Max Abbott. Quinn can’t forget the pleasure-filled summer they shared. But now she’s butting heads over business strategy with the mouthwatering marketing VP, even as their reawakened desire threatens to expose her deepest secrets…





As soon as the door closed behind his sister, Quinn turned to him and scowled. “Why would you give everyone the impression something is going on between us?”

He tried not to take her words personally, but damn if it didn’t feel like she’d kicked him in the teeth wearing a pair of steel toe boots.

There was a time when her greatest desire had been for them to go out on a proper date and let the world see them together. Rather than sneaking around and hooking up in his shabby little loft over the barn or in the bed of his truck, parked beneath the stars.

Heat stung his cheeks as he jammed his hands into his pockets. “They probably assume I want to talk about the project or catch up with an old friend.”

He pretended not to notice the way she pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows when he referred to them as friends.

Damn. Is there a draft in here?

The chilly vibe coming from his ex was all too real.

“And I really would love to catch up at some point. But first, I need to tell you just how sorry I am.”

“No.” She shook her head, her tousled beach waves swinging gently.

He curled the fingers still shoved into his pockets into tight fists. Max couldn’t help remembering how he’d sifted the soft strands through his fingers as she had lain in his arms. And the dreamy way she’d gazed up at him after they’d made love.

There was nothing remotely romantic about the frosty look Quinn cast in his direction from beneath her long, thick eyelashes.

“No, you won’t allow me to apologize to you, or no, you’re not willing to accept my sincere apology?” He sat on the edge of the conference table.

“Both.” Quinn folded her arms, her expression neutral. Despite the iciness that slid over his skin in response to her answer, her tone and expression betrayed no anger. “A—I don’t want your apology. B—There’s no need for it.”

Heat spanned his forehead. Max had imagined having this conversation with Quinn dozens of times. He’d envisioned anger, forgiveness and lots of incredibly hot makeup sex. What he hadn’t foreseen was Quinn standing here calm, callous and completely out of fucks to give.

Not that he didn’t deserve it.


Pretty Bookmark.
Pretty diary.
Pen set.
Reese Ryan coffee mug.



Reese Ryan writes sexy, emotional romance with captivating family drama, surprising secrets, and a posse of complex, flawed characters.A Midwesterner with deep Southern roots, Reese currently resides in semi-small-town North Carolina where she’s an avid reader, a music junkie, and a self-declared connoisseur of cheesy grits.


Book Blitz: It’s A Work Thing by Michelle Karise




They call me the King of Dynex, architect of the company’s crown jewel: the world’s largest scientific website. Half the company loves me, the other can’t stand me—when you’ve got your sights set on bigger things, it comes with the territory. Bonus: My ice-cold reputation hides my broken heart.

If Dynex pulls off its upcoming public offering, my best friend and I will be swimming in corporate stock, free to launch our own company. Now more than ever, I need to be focused. I don’t need a distraction like Jasmine Carmichael, a gorgeous consultant with honey-almond skin and a killer smile.

Ever had any luck with dating apps? No? Girl, same. I don’t play games. One, my travel schedule as a consultant doesn’t allow it. And two, at the first hint I’m an old-fashioned girl in search of romance, I’m ghosted.

I shouldn’t be attracted to six-three of citrine-eyed, muscular, urban sophistication like Garrett Hamilton. He’s a client, and clients are definitely out of my dating pool. But something about him makes me want to ignore the rules and roll the dice.

I should have remembered corporate games never end well—especially when you gamble with your heart.





That’s when he did it. His left hand unbuttoned his right sleeve, and he carefully folded the cuff to his inner elbow. He then folded the bottom until it reached the top of his cuff, revealing the cords rippling through his muscular, tanned forearms.

My heart raced, and as much as I tried, I couldn’t look away. The small, effortless move was so sexy. A short exhalation left my chest as I stared.

Yeah. We’ll be getting a lot of work done.

Still standing, he smoothed the edges of the folds. He smirked in an annoyingly self-confident way that dampened my panties. Then he repeated the action on his right arm. This time, he met my gaze and took his time rolling the sleeve, flexing the muscles in his forearms when he did it.

He knew he was turning me on. And he enjoyed it!

I imagined that I appeared wide-eyed and breathless while I squirmed in my seat. 

My god. Could this be more embarrassing?



Two winners will receive a signed copy of IT’S A WORK THING & exclusive swag!




Michelle Karise is a St. Louis-native who lives with her temperamental Shih Tzu, Rooney. The sassy, Type-A personality is a member of several professional organizations, notably the Romance Writers of America.Travel, martinis, and wit are her jam and nuance is her butter. She constructs stories featuring intelligent female leads and the confident and strong men that love them. Sometimes the hero and heroine don’t behave as she would like, but she is always optimistic that love will prevail.


Slick by Marlee Rae

Hidden gem: something which is extremely outstanding and not many people may know about

Slick: a hidden gem


Malcolm “Slick” Montgomery dominates the mountains and commands the legal world. He perfectly balances both sides of his unique family life because he’s known for taking care of those he loves at any cost. The only thing he hasn’t found is true love.
Tia “Tweet” Phillips is a young firecracker determined to chart her own course in this world without help from anyone, especially her family. She has placed her love life on hold while she pursues her career goals. When the pair meet on the ski slopes, will they proceed when they figure out they are in different stages in life? Will he be able to capture her? Or will she stay on her original path?
Now, I’ma give you the real: This book was FUNNY AF, ya hear?! I love a romance that invokes wetness in multiple places (We grown…) Don’t let the word “slick” fool you into thinking this is about some playboy who hits and quits it because it’s anything but. Dude is solid, through and through. This story has very likable characters, and I give it extra credit for taking place in my hometown of…where? DC baybay!