Tuesday, November 30, 2021
Published by: Evernight Teen
Publication date: November 12th 2021
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
Injured competitive swimmer Reece never wanted to be Vice Prez of West Hill High. It was her brother Jamie’s idea, just something to do until she could get back into the pool.
She knew that Jamie—who led his campaign with a striptease “election speech”—would be a complete “President Dumbass.” But Reece didn’t foresee that she’d fall hard for Jamie’s Student Council rival, Zain.
Zain is hot and intense, plus an amputee and a basketball star. Between Zain’s disability and Reece’s surgery, they have their challenges, but that deepens their connection—until he drops a bombshell about his accident. Suddenly, everything important to Reece starts to implode.
Struggling with issues of family loyalty, secrets, and scars, Reece must decide if real relationships are worth the heartache.
The atmosphere in the auditorium was near electric. The students were gobbling up the performance, knowing Jamie’s “speech” could be stopped at any second. As he started to lower his swimsuit, DiFran suddenly—finally—stomped onstage. I momentarily covered my eyes with my good hand, and when I peeked through my fingers, I exhaled in relief. His flesh-colored t-shirt was part of a unitard. No frontal nudity today, folks.
Fists and jaw tightly clenched, DiFran leaned in and whispered insistently into Jamie’s ear. But like a pole dancer resisting the grand finale, Jamie shook him off.
High-bun girl leaned forward as my brother turned ass backward to the audience. Large black letters were written across his butt—Free on the left cheek, Ice Cream on the right. High-bun girl— and pretty much the entire student body—went insane as the dance music morphed into a conga drumbeat.
As Jamie thrust out one butt cheek, everyone yelled, “Free!” He pulsed out the other one to a refrain of, “Ice cream!” Even my gym teacher Ms. Walker started shouting along, while Jamie wiggled one cheek and then the other. “Free ice cream!” I gripped the armrest with my good hand. Very presidential.
Moving to the speed of Jamie’s bum, the chanting accelerated to a fevered pitch. Riding an ice cream vendor bike, Dean blasted through the backstage curtain, skidding to a stop. He opened the cooler, pulled out a few boxes of cones, and lifted them up high like a trophy.
DiFran took center stage, waving his arms furiously, trying but failing to halt the deafening noise.
“Are you quite done?” he huffed into the mic. Jamie, who was suddenly in his trunks and at his side, shook his head. “Wrap this up pronto,” DiFran spat.
Jamie tilted the microphone toward his mouth as the auditorium quieted down. Here comes the big speech. Despite all the shenanigans, or maybe because of them, everyone seemed ready to listen. It was almost a dead silence when Jamie leaned in and spoke his first words, slowly emphasizing each letter.
“For free ice cream, vote Jamie and Dean.” He paused. Everyone sat quietly, waiting for more. But instead, Dean ripped open boxes as Jamie reached over and started firing ice cream cones at the audience. Even though I was way out of range, I ducked. A mad scramble ensued. The bull had been released.
A lover of libraries, Susan obtained a Masters Degree in Library Science but found that she was too disorganized for that field. Instead, Susan worked at The Globe and Mail newspaper and then Seneca College. Four kids later, she decided to stay-at-home, spending her quiet moments indulging her love of writing.
The old adage is to "write what you know." In Double Negative, Susan channels her experience as a parent of a teen amputee and her misguided belief that she was once an athlete. The inspiration for NemeSIS was the complicated sister dynamic in Susan's estrogen fuelled household in Hamilton, Ontario. An avid reader, she loves e-books and falls asleep nightly to the soft glow, oblivious to what happened on the last page.
Susan lives in Toronto with her husband, three sons, a daughter, rescue dog Bean and Indy the cat.
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Monday, November 29, 2021
Keisha didn’t know agreeing to help her friend right a wrong would involve murder, robbery...and Richard, a handsome sheriff who poses a threat to her heart. She doesn’t want to let down her friends, but helping might come with a cost. Readers who love Kennedy Ryan and Nicole Snow will love Kiss of Karma by Louise Lennox, an enemies to lovers, older man, small town romance.
The Carolina Lowcountry is sexier, because the beautiful Kiawah Kisses rule the Sea Islands with strength, spice, and sass. This summer and fall, each friend will reconnect with a Gullah hometown hero and learn to love again. This is Keisha’s story…
Keisha Jordan is a good friend and an even better attorney. She will do anything for her tight knit group of girlfriends, the Kiawah Kisses. When her best friend Nicole asks her to help right a wrong committed against her family; she agrees. But, murder, robbery, and a devastatingly handsome older sheriff turn out to be more than she bargained for.
Keisha doesn't want to let the Kisses down; but she's determined to protect her heart.
Richard Grant has served as Kiawah Island’s local sheriff for over twenty years. It’s the family business. His grandfather and father served in the roles before him. The last thing he needs is some nosy attorney and her friends opening old cases and creating a stir around town. If the attorney wasn’t so beautiful he’d gladly escort her out of his town.
But she is… so he lets her be. But what will it cost his family's legacy if she stays?
Kiss of Karma, book 4 in the Kiawah Kisses Series, is a steamy, small town, contemporary romance featuring a strong, smart heroine and the older sexy hometown sheriff who fights for her heart. Download it today and get ready to fall in love with your next favorite book boyfriend.
Copyright 2021 Louise Lennox
Big Bess warned the low country casts spells at night.
Under Kiawah’s muggy moon, mosquitos bite, moss sighs, and men lie. I thought she was trying to keep us out of the swamps at night. Symone, Nicole, Tara, and I were twelve and relentless in our pursuit of adventure. Now, eighteen years later, I know exactly what she meant. For example, it doesn’t take Big Bess’s beloved juju to understand why this police officer stopped me. This is about more than a speeding violation. Everyone zips down Kiawah Coastal Highway. Fast is the only appropriate way to drive across it.
This man wants something else. He keeps slipping a look down to my dark thighs while he writes this ridiculous ticket… and I like it. When he speaks, his voice drips with need, while his posture screams authority. It’s almost enough to make me forget how annoyed I am at the present inconvenience.
“Ma’am, you know how fast you was going’?”
Though familiar sea island twang is enticing; I am not amused. Who the hell is he calling, ma’am? I’m only thirty-five! Plus, I hate rhetorical questions. When dealing with law enforcement, that is nothing more than trick bags. No one knows how fast they are going while driving. Anything I say will put me directly in the speeding category.
I roll my eyes. “I was going fast enough to get where I’m going on time.” At least I was.
Nicole’s aunt Pearl kept me longer than I thought she would with her talk of food, death and murder plots. The bombshells she dropped tonight make me want to board a flight back to San Francisco ASAP. But I promised Symone I’d be here for her debut as The Haint’s new owner at the Christmas Blues Festival tonight. I never break a promise. I’m also never late, and I’m sure Tara and Nicole are wondering where I am.
Sighing, I inspect Sheriff too damn serious for the first time. When my eyes roam from the rock-hard abs pressing against his lame cotton uniform shirt to his deep and twinkling eyes, I silently admit he’s fine… but old as shit.
Curly salt and pepper hair bounce off his jet-black skin in the moonlight. He’s tall, easily over six feet, and filling out that ugly brown sheriff’s uniform with perfectly produced muscles. My guess is that he spends more time in the gym than between a soft pair of sugar-scrubbed thighs. Hence his fascination with mine. Maybe his thirst will get me out of this speed trap. I shift my body to give him a better view of my legs. It’s worth a shot.
He clears his throat. “Ma’am, you aren’t going anywhere driving down my highways twenty miles over the speed limit. You should be glad I’m not giving you a reckless driving violation.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. When pulled over, I never take my hands off ten and two. I don’t trust the police for two reasons. One, they kill Black people down here for sport. Two, I’m a lawyer and I know better. My hands stay where a cop can see them at all times. After a deep breath, I return my attention to his exquisitely chiseled jaw.
“I’m supposed to be grateful?” My voice rises. “You’re still giving me a ticket. I don’t even live here! Tell me, officer, how many traffic stops do you need to make before you can buy yourself a new police cruiser?”
Ignoring my snide remark, he tears off the ticket and hands it out for me to take it. I snatch it from his hand and attempt to turn away, but he leans down until I have no choice but to look up. His perfect face is now in the open window of my BMW i8. I keep this car at my vacation home in Kiawah. It’s impractical in San Francisco because there are no open roads to fly down. There are also no nineties era Denzel look-alike cops to stop me.
About Louise Lennox
Contemporary romance Author Louise Lennox is a hopeful romantic writing steamy romances full of heart and healing.
A Spelman College and Georgetown University graduate, Louise provides women with diverse and meaningful representation in romance novel pages. Not seeing enough women like herself headlining positive love stories, she launched #HappyBlackRomance; a community of readers and writers committed to the creation and sharing of positive romance stories featuring Black heroines.
Louise Lennox plots highlight the joys of Black relationships across the diaspora; pushing readers from all cultural backgrounds to admire them for their strength and downright sexiness. In her novels sparks always fly; the sex amazes; and the characters always leave the world better than they found it through their love.
When she’s not writing, Louise is enjoying her work as a school leader, wife, and mother of the two cutest dragons to ever walk the earth!
To learn more about #HappyBlackRomance and to score a free book or two, check out her website www.lovelouiselennox.com.
This promotional event is brought to you by The Indie Pen PR
The Lady and Her Quill by Ruth A. Casie
Her mind kept telling her to stop loving him, but her heart couldn’t let him go.
Renowned author Lady Alicia Hartley has lost her muse after a bad review. She blames it all on the author JC Melrose. A chance encounter with a handsome, witty Justin Caulfield has her heart racing, and her muse seemingly back. Is he her savior or her worst nightmare?
He didn’t see the turbulent ocean. He was too busy dealing with a different tempest.
The recently retired Captain Justin Caulfield is facing his own demons. As gifted author JC Melrose, his stories honor men who died at the hand of one man. His only focus is to avenge their deaths, that is until he meets and falls in love with Lady Alicia.
The two authors take on a writing challenge to determine the better writer. While researching the story, she is captured by Justin’s nemesis. Can Lady Alicia turn this mystery into an award-winning story? Can Justin save his own real-life heroine?
Can they both overcome their own challenges for a happily ever after?
“You’ve kept me on tenterhooks long enough. In your last letter you said you had exciting news. Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”
“I did get wonderful news, but after the review I’m not certain.”
“This is me, Alicia. You can speak freely,” Mrs. Bainbridge encouraged. “No one is listening.”
“I planned to go to Mr. Caulfield with my new book and make a better agreement. Earlier in the week I received a letter from William Lane Publishing that he was interested in publishing my next story.”
Alicia reached into her reticule and removed a folded letter and handed it to Mrs. Bainbridge.
“Mr. Caulfield and I had agreed my next book would be published in February, but we hadn’t finalized the contract. When I got to his office, I saw the review. I was disappointed of course, but when he suggested not publishing my story until the summer, I became upset.”
Mrs. Bainbridge lifted the quizzing glass that was tied to a ribbon that dangled down the front of her bodice and read the letter while Alicia opened her portmanteau and took out a package.
“This is wonderful news.” She handed the message back to Alicia.
“William Lane is the biggest publisher in London if not England. I had offered my books to him before I went to Mr. Caulfield, he said perhaps a smaller shop would be more appropriate for my work and suggested Caulfield Publishing. Isaac Caulfield is a good man, but he maintains tight control over all aspects of my work. I’ve told him several times I want to be involved. He pats me on the head, tells me not to worry about anything, and sends me on my way. My stories sell well. I planned to ask that we change the contract. I will pay the production costs. He can do the distribution and I would give him a commission based on sales. William Lane will never consider me now, not after reading the review.”
Alicia stared unblinking at her friend. She was at a loss for words as Mrs. Bainbridge helped her on with her pelisse.
“What makes you imagine Mr. Lane will be different? Be careful what you wish for. A larger company may have more constraints. Now, off with you. And I enjoyed your story. The review was one person’s opinion.”
“You’re right,” Alicia said as she jostled her portmanteau and the package of books.
“Would it be easier to leave the books in your luggage? The streets ice up in this weather.”
“I’m going a short distance and prefer not opening my luggage in the library. I’ll manage.”
A quick embrace from Mrs. Bainbridge and she was ready to face the weather.
She left the seminary and hadn’t gone far before she cursed herself for going at all. The street had turned to mud and ice, and the wind hadn’t stopped. Carrying the portmanteau and package of books proved to be a more difficult feat than she first imagined.
She crossed the lane and hurried down North Wickham to the library ahead. A dray stood in front of the building on the one area that wasn’t muddy. She maneuvered her way around the cart to avoid the large puddles in front and behind it.
As she reached the door her feet began to slip on a patch of ice. She juggled the package trying to keep it from falling into the mud. She saved the books but with the next step her foot slid out from under her. Her hands full she had no way to stop her fall.
A strong hand grabbed her elbow.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured in her ear.
She caught her balance and looked up into gray eyes that were strikingly familiar, but she had no idea why.
About the Author
I’m happiest when I’m telling stories either chatting in a group or writing them down. I love to put my hero and heroine in tough situations and dare them to work it out—together, always together. They haven’t disappointed. Oh, they complain but in the end their love and relationships are stronger than ever.
My stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. They will keep you turning the pages until the end. I hope my books become your favorite adventures.
Blog Tour ScheduleMonday, November 29
Guest Post at Novels Alive
Excerpt at A Soccer Mom's Book Blog
Tuesday, November 30
Excerpt at Bookworlder
Review at Anna’s Book Blog
Wednesday, December 1
Review at Bonnie Reads and Writes
Excerpt at Historical Fiction with Spirit
Thursday, December 2
Excerpt at Triquetra Reviews
Review at Gwendalyn's Books
Friday, December 3
Review at Novels Alive
Excerpt at SplendeurCaisse
Review at With A Book In Our Hands
GiveawayUS Giveaway (2 winners): $10 Amazon Gift Card + signed paperback for any book in Ruth's backlist (winner's choice).
UK Giveaway (2 winners): eBook of any book in Ruth's backlist (winner's choice).
The giveaway ends on December 3rd. You must be 18 or older to enter.
The Lady and Her Quill
Friday, November 26, 2021
(Arthur Academy, #2)
Publication date: November 26th 2021
Genres: New Adult, Romance
“If the world is full of monsters, how do we know who wears the crown…”
In the dark of the night he bared his soul, delivering a shocking event that should’ve changed everything.
So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…?
The further I’m immersed in this world he calls the ‘elite’, the more I don’t understand. And it’s not only his world I’m afraid I’m falling for, but the Golden Crown himself as well.
But Pax still has secrets.
And I want him to trust me, like a flame wanting fire.
Because despite his world being nothing as it seems, I’m not sure I could walk away even if I wanted to.
Because the truth be told, I don’t want to.
I want him.
In the dark of the night I revealed a truth, delivering the brutal reality of what the elite really means.
So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…?
It’s the same cat and mouse games, and the same political, power tricks where the Golden Crown is all they see. It’s all they want to see.
Except for her.
But there are things I can’t tell her. Things I don’t think she’ll understand yet.
And I need her to trust me, like a fire needing flame.
Because despite me knowing what this world does to those who fall victim to it, I’m not sure I could walk away from Hendrix, even if I wanted to.
Because the truth be told, I don’t want to.
I want her.
I took my lip beneath my teeth before opening my soul up as much as I was capable of. The words I were about to ask, meant more to me than she would ever know.
“I need you to trust me.”
I held my breath. Ready to wait for her reply but was surprised at how fast it actually flew from her mouth.
I stilled. “What? You trust me?”
I didn’t believe it. I was almost angry at Hendrix’s answer.
How could she trust me after everything I’ve put her through?
Everything I’ve hidden. It didn’t make any sense.
What also made no sense was her reaction either because she shook her head before taking a seat on the edge of her bed (which was too far away from me) where she played with the hem of her tee that was resting on her lap.
“Crazy huh? That I trust you. But… I can’t explain why I do. I’ve just always….”
“You’ve always what?”
She glances up, piercing my heart with her hazel eyes honing in on me with so much raw emotion. “I’ve always…” she starts, before seemingly coming to some realisation within herself. “When I was younger… I always sensed when things were wrong you know? Like that sixth sense that something bad was about to happen, or when danger was nearby. Even when I was too young to really understand my situation, I always knew deep down the kind of dangerous situation I was in. That it wasn’t normal. Well, it wasn’t everyones normal at least. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’m sure from those photos you saw that you have some idea of what I grew up in.” She pauses and my fists ball at the reminder instantly. I don’t have time to let that anger consume me though before she continues. “But I’ve just always trusted my instincts. They’ve never let me down and I guess in a lot of ways I’ve relied on it since I had no actual family to have my back. And…” she pauses again, nervously this time, when she notices me taking slow, measured steps toward her.
“And….?” I whisper, until I’m standing over her causing her head to tilt back to look up at me.
“And my gut? For some reason it trusts you Paxton. Despite you making me nervous, despite the things you say and the things you do. I feel safe around you. Protected. Like the only person capable of hurting me when you’re near – is no one else. Only…. you.”
My hand finds her cheek, letting her warmth seep into my palm. A palm, that was capable of so much destruction. So much hurt. But everything she just said was true. Because I’d always had this sense to protect her, like somehow our souls recognised the pain and destruction we both endured in our lives and wanted to somehow heal together. In most of our time together though, I wanted to protect her from me too. But this girl….
I held her as delicately as a guy like I could, when she gave me something of hers that was beyond precious. Her trust. I almost couldn’t believe she was giving it to me but it was something I was determined to keep. No matter the cost.
“You never asked me you know.”
“I never asked you what?”
“If I had something to do with… You never asked me.”
Her small fingers wrap around my wrist that’s still cupping her cheek and her eyes never sway from mine. “I may not know everything about you Pax, but I know you aren’t capable of something like that. I’ve been around monsters my entire life and you aren’t one. You’re not.”
I suck in a breath, wanting so much more in this moment when I breathe, “You called me Pax.”
She tilts her head, a knowing smirk crossing her delicate face. “It’s your name isn’t it?”
“I guess I like how it sounds coming from you.”
Then for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel…
Kathleen grew up in the south-western suburbs of Sydney, where family holidays by the beach and tormenting her two younger brothers, was how she spent her early years. But at the young age of 11, when she submitted a short story to a talented writing competition through the NSW schools program, not only did she win it, but she quickly found a love for it as well.
Throughout her schooling, writing was a hobby, along with sketching and various sports. But fast forward to her adult years when she moved to Europe to follow her husbands field hockey dream, and her love for writing surged to the surface.
Her debut story, Cut, was penned over two years where her hobby seemed to lead to the completion of Pennys' world. The rest of the series came the following year.
Kathleen enjoys writing stories full of self-discovery, emotional journeys and of course, love.
Something else she loves is hearing from her readers, so feel free to follow her blog or drop her an email.
For signed copies of her novels, more information about upcoming stories, or to follow her blog, please visit her website www.kathleenmaree.weebly.com
Dream often. Believe always.
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Thursday, November 25, 2021
Christmas Wish List
(Hartbridge Christmas Series, #2)
Publication date: November 25th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance
In need of work and a change of scenery, Aussie ex-pat Jayden Turner agrees to a short-term chef position at a Bed and Breakfast over the Christmas holidays. After all, how hard could it be in a small town in the mountains of Montana? What he finds is a grand old house in a beautiful town, and his new boss is gorgeous, gay, and single.
After his divorce, Carter “Cass” Campion bought his great-aunt’s rundown country manor in his home town, and he’s determined to get it ready for the busy holiday period. Recently out as gay, he’s been focused solely on his business and hasn’t had time for a man. Not that many gay men come through Hartbridge . . .
As his new clients arrive, and being away from his two kids, celebrating Christmas is the last thing on Cass’s mind, but his new chef has other ideas. And if there’s one thing on his Christmas Wish List this year, Jayden can make it come true.
N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.
She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.
She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.
She’s been writing ever since…
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Tuesday, November 23, 2021
Publication date: November 18th 2021
Genres: Fantasy, Mystery, Romance, Young Adult
Amandine Klinghoffer is a daring young detective working on her first independent case in the fabled kingdom of Glamwein.
Was there a murder in the royal palace? And if so, who stands to benefit from plaguing the prince with ghosts?
Prince Ivan, the lazy, cowardly, good-for-nothing embarrassment of the realm is hiding something.
He would rather profess his undying love for Amandine than give her any useful information. He is obviously using romance to distract her from finding the truth.
As Amandine investigates with Ivan’s “help” she begins to suspect a plot that threatens the fate of the entire kingdom and its magical beings.
The staircase terminated in a heavy wooden door that concealed whatever lay ahead. It looked like an ordinary door, but she sensed foreboding and gloom as if they were etched into its wooden panels.
Amandine pushed it open.
A rush of cool air caressed her face, bringing the scents of burnt sugar, oranges and gingerbread treats the spectators were enjoying below. She stood in a broad, open-aired gallery just below the belfry—the rope dangled down through an opening in the ceiling, and she could have reached for it to ring the bell.
Without wasting another moment, Amandine drew the pistol from her left pocket and fired a bolt of energy behind and above her. The crackle of electricity was brief, but as she turned around and beheld the octopus-like limbs of the Strangler writhe wildly and fade into nothingness, the piercing scream of the ghost went on for quite a while until it too faded along with any traces of its physical existence.
“In broad daylight,” she muttered, “the nerve of it.”
Then she remembered someone else had quite a nerve.
“You knew this was here,” she stated, facing Prince Ivan, who stared at her with his big blue eyes, dumbfounded.
“That was impressive,” he finally said, his charming smile returning.
“You led me here on purpose,” she continued.
Stranglers were not dangerous and technically, being incorporeal, could not really strangle anyone. They did like to wrap their tentacles around a human victim, instilling a sense of dread, misery and damp coldness. No one had ever died from it, but some people had been known to faint from sheer terror.
“Damn, Klinghoffer,” Ivan said, evidently forgetting his resolve not to swear and walking into the dark corner where the spectre had been moments ago, “You destroyed it without a trace.”
“I should hope so. The electrical charges in this weapon are strong enough to unbind the faint energy keeping ghosts in our physical world. And it’s Mademoiselle Klinghoffer to you. Actually, I don’t even feel like speaking with you after you lured me here, hoping to embarrass me.”
“Just another test of your skill,” Ivan said, looking completely unconcerned by her anger.
Her face moved of its own volition into a cynical smile. “Your surprise at my success tells me you expected me to fail.”
“But how did you know where to aim?” he asked, ignoring the accusation, “You fired the shot without even turning around.”
She shrugged, trying not to be softened by his admiration for her skill. “After a while, you develop a sense for these things.”
Amandine did not feel hurt exactly but perhaps slightly saddened by the fact that he was just as predictable as her schoolmates had been. Even his ruse of luring her into a haunted church proved fairly weak and pathetic.
“I wonder what sort of thing died to create that?” he asked.
“It’s not one thing but two or three people whose fates were intertwined in unfortunate ways. If they’re unlucky enough to die at the same time or in fairly close succession, the resulting ghost is a Strangler.” Amandine explained. “Anyway, I shall make my way to the royal palace now. I don’t suppose you actually brought me up here to see the Fairy News.”
“Of course I did. Come on!”
He made to take hold of her hand, but Amandine dodged his grasp. She had little interest in being led about by this royal manipulator. He looked hurt, or pretended to.
“Oh, come now,” he coaxed, “haven’t you ever heard of letting bygones be bygones?”
“A very Glamweinian sentiment,” she remarked, standing aloof and folding her arms close to her body.
“True, we don’t like to hold on to grudges. We like to say, ‘if you look back, you get a smack.’ Isn’t it a wonderful tradition?”
“Sounds a little violent,” Amandine said, “I think it’s wise to look back and learn from your mistakes, especially when the most recent incident only happened a few seconds ago.”
Ivan kneeled down on the grey stones, opening his arms dramatically.
“I beg your forgiveness, fair Klinghoffer,” he said in a solemn voice, his lips quivering as he suppressed a grin, “and I promise, no more pranks while I show you the Fairy News.”
“All right,” Amandine said coldly, “Please rise up. You’re being ridiculous.”
He leapt up and rushed to the edge of the gallery where a tall arch framed his dapper figure. “It’s already started!”
R.R. Orange has a Master’s Degree in Creative Writing. She has worked as an English and Creative Writing instructor, a marketing writer, and a dog walker. Although she loves dogs, she is not a dognapper, unlike some of her characters.
Fun fact: she is also fluent in Russian, French, and intermediate in Portuguese.
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Monday, November 22, 2021