Release Blitz – After We Fall by Melanie Harlow

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After We Fall by Melanie Harlow
Publication Date: November 28th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

BFF K’s Review Coming Soon!

Jack Valentini isn’t my type.

Sexy, brooding cowboys are fine in the movies, but in real life, I prefer a suit and tie. Proper manners. A close shave.

Jack might be gorgeous, but he’s also scruffy, rugged, and rude. He wants nothing to do with a “rich city girl” like me, and he isn’t afraid to say so.

But I’ve got a PR job to do for his family’s farm, so he’s stuck with me for ten days, and I’m stuck with him. His glares. His moods. His tight jeans. His muscles.

His huge, hard muscles.

Pretty soon there’s a whole different kind of tension between us, the kind that has me misbehaving in barns, trees, and pickup trucks. I’ve never done anything so out of character—but it feels too good to stop.

And the more I learn about the grieving ex-Army sergeant, the better I understand him. Losing his wife three years ago left him broken and bitter and blaming himself. He doesn’t think he deserves a second chance at happiness.

But he’s wrong.

I don’t need to be his first love. If only he’d let me be his last.

“Second chances are not given to make things right, but are given to prove that we could be even better after we fall.” —Unknown

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Purchase Links

Amazon US     Amazon UK     iBooks     Nook

About the Author

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

Connect with Melanie:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMelanieHarlow/?fref=ts
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NPkYKs
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1TkpDqF
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/MelanieHarlow2
Website: http://www.melanieharlow.com
Newsletter: http://www.melanieharlow.com/contact/

Excerpt – After We Fall by Melanie Harlow

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After We Fall by Melanie Harlow
Publication Date: November 28th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance

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Jack Valentini isn’t my type.

Sexy, brooding cowboys are fine in the movies, but in real life, I prefer a suit and tie. Proper manners. A close shave.

Jack might be gorgeous, but he’s also scruffy, rugged, and rude. He wants nothing to do with a “rich city girl” like me, and he isn’t afraid to say so.

But I’ve got a PR job to do for his family’s farm, so he’s stuck with me for ten days, and I’m stuck with him. His glares. His moods. His tight jeans. His muscles.

His huge, hard muscles.

Pretty soon there’s a whole different kind of tension between us, the kind that has me misbehaving in barns, trees, and pickup trucks. I’ve never done anything so out of character—but it feels too good to stop.

And the more I learn about the grieving ex-Army sergeant, the better I understand him. Losing his wife three years ago left him broken and bitter and blaming himself. He doesn’t think he deserves a second chance at happiness.

But he’s wrong.

I don’t need to be his first love. If only he’d let me be his last.

“Second chances are not given to make things right, but are given to prove that we could be even better after we fall.” —Unknown

Excerpt

“Wow,” she said, shutting the screen door behind her. “That was close. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” I crossed my arms, wishing I’d thought to grab a shirt. “Want to tell me what you were doing out there?”

Her cheeks colored. “Um, I was taking a run.”

“Up a tree?”

She laughed nervously. “No. Well, I didn’t start out in a tree. That happened later.”

I cocked my head, unable to resist giving her a hard time. Not so sure of yourself now, are you, Barbie? “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. See, I left the cottage I’m renting without using the bathroom by mistake,” she began, twisting her fingers together, “and I was planning on running a loop around the farm, but it’s bigger than I thought.”

“Ah. So you were looking for a bathroom in the woods?”

“Well, yes.” She swallowed. “Sort of. But then I heard a splash and saw you…” Her cheeks were practically purple now.

I played dumb. “Saw me what?”

“Saw you naked, OK?” she blurted, throwing her hands up. “I admit it—I saw you naked.”

I had no hangups about nudity, but I was damn serious about my privacy, and about people sneaking up on me. But her embarrassment was funny. The two times I’d seen her before, she’d been so polished and poised. It felt good to put her in her place a little. “So you climbed a tree for a better view, is that it?”

Bowing her head, she dragged the toe of one shoe across the wood planks of the porch floor. “Something like that.” Then she looked up at me. Took a breath. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was—I mean, I got—I couldn’t—” She sighed, briefly closing her eyes. “I have no excuse. Will you accept my apology?”

She was prettier without makeup, I decided. And the way she wore her hair off her face emphasized the wideness of her eyes, the angle of her cheekbones, the arch of her brows. Her lips didn’t need all that glossy crap, either. They were a perfect rosy pink, and I wondered if they’d feel as soft as they looked.

Fuck. I hadn’t kissed anyone in three years.

Clearing my throat, I took a step back. “Yeah. It’s fine.” Now get out of here.

She didn’t move. “So you’re not going to fire me?”

“I never hired you.”

“I know. But I really want this job. I think I can help, Jack. I know I can.”

“Suit yourself. I want nothing to do with it.” My name on her lips was trouble. Needing some distance from her, I started walking toward the dock to get my shoes and socks, but she followed me. God, she was a pest. It reminded me of the way Steph used to tag along after the boys when we were kids, wanting to get in our games.

“Are you going to be like this the entire time I’m here?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“Moody and uncooperative?”

“Probably.”

“Why? Do you hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate anybody. I just don’t see why we should pay some city girl who’s never set foot on a farm to advise us.” We reached the dock, and I leaned down to get my stuff.

“I’m not even asking to be paid, so piss off!” she shouted, her voice carrying on the water.

I straightened. “Oh, you’re working for free?”

“Yes!”

“Then you’re an idiot. Or so rich you don’t need the money.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said through clenched teeth.

“So you’re rich, then.” I don’t know why I was being such an asshole. But for some reason, I did not want to let her see another side of me, or see another side to her. “I should have guessed.”

She crossed her arms. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you look like you’ve led a charmed life. Like you’ve had everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you. Like you’ve never gotten your hands dirty.”

“So get them dirty.”

I almost fell off the dock. “What?”

“Get them dirty. Teach me about working this farm. I want to learn.”

Was she serious? The last thing I needed was to drag her ass around all day, explaining things. Or stare at her ass all day, imagining things. But one look at her defiant face and I shook my head. “Why do I feel like if I say no, you’ll just keep bothering me?”

She smiled and clasped her hands behind her back, rocking forward on her toes. “Because I will. I don’t like being told no.”

“Of course you don’t.” Jesus, she was trouble. A bad apple—smooth and shiny on the outside, spoiled rotten on the inside. But for no good reason, I found myself giving in. “Fine. Go change your clothes.”

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About the Author

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

Connect with Melanie

Facebook     Amazon     Goodreads      Twitter
Website     Newsletter

Review – Some Sort of Love by Melanie Harlow

 

This is one of BFF K’s favorite reads so far in 2016!

 

 

Title: Some Sort of Love
Series: Happy Crazy Love #3
Author: Melanie Harlow
Genre: Contemporary Romance
 Release Date: February 9, 2016

On the surface, I have it all—a career I adore, a loving family, the Nixon metabolism but not the Nixon ears, and a salary that supports my lavish taste in designer shoes, fine wine, and lacy lingerie…but I have no one to share it with.

Until the day I run into him—my one night stand from college with the cocky smile, let’s-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth.

Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy. A sexy single dad with broad shoulders, strong hands, and a fantastically big…heart. (I mean, it’s massive. And generous. And it pumps so hard… um. Sorry. Lost my place.)

But he lives for his son, and he’s keeping me at a distance because he thinks I deserve someone better—a man who can give me more time, more attention, more of himself. He doesn’t believe he could ever be enough.

But he’s wrong.

He’s everything.

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KOBO / iBOOKS

BFF K’s Review

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Some Sort of Love is the continuation of this absolutely wonderful series by Melanie Harlow. And, one of my best reads for far in 2016. If you haven’t read the other books in the series, you’ll want to start now. Though each is a standalone, the characters are interconnected. I can’t imagine missing out on any of these great stories. The thought of missing these makes me feel sad. Seriously, not exaggerating, the thought of never having read these books makes me sad!

Some Sort of Love is the story of Jillian and Levi. A VERY brief college tryst is reignited when the two run into one another at a wedding. (I won’t say whose!) The attraction and chemistry is immediate and off-the-charts! But, life isn’t as simple as it was in undergrad. Both Jillian and Levi have demanding careers and Levi is the single father to a son with special needs. These are some rough waters to navigate and the couple must decide if their attraction and affections are a strong enough foundation to build a new life together.

Some Sort of Love brings back an incredible cast of characters – Jillian’s sisters, Skylar and Natalie and their men Sebastian and Miles. I love each of these books for so many reasons. I love each of these couples and their unique struggles and circumstances. I absolutely can’t pick a favorite!

And, let me just spend a minute worshiping all that is Melanie Harlow. I’m absolutely head over heels for her storytelling. Melanie Harlow creates characters that are a lovely combination of strong and vulnerable. There’s something so relate-able and insightful about her characters, it’s like you get a glimpse into yourself through the lens of her terrific players. The steamy scenes she dreams up are second to none. And, Harlow can describe a simple cocktail that makes my mouth water!

It was 2am when I finished Some Sort of Love and it’s one of the best books I’ve read in a long time! If you haven’t read the Happy, Crazy, Love series – start right now, PLEASE! This entire series is packed with wonderful, emotional, dreamy romance and the most incredibly human, deliciously flawed characters. I finished this book in less than a day and I will be recommending it for weeks!

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An advance copy was received in exchange for an honest review.

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 Favorite Quotes

“Love isn’t a finite thing in the universe. It’s not like it gets used up by people who get there first.”

“Harry Potter fan, huh? So what are the chances I can Slytherin to your chamber of secrets tonight?”

“Ah, wine. Wine was my friend. Wine understood me. Wine knew it was entirely possible to be one hundred percent happy for your sisters and also ten percent jealous, because Wine does not care about mathematics. And Wine would never ask why I didn’t have a man by age thirty. Wine and I had spent enough alone time together that Wine knew it wasn’t that I didn’t want to find love-of course I did. But it was fucking hard.”

” ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m thinking about kissing you.’

‘Stop thinking.’ ”

“Over sea bass and grilled tuna we shared firsts and favorites,”

“I’d rather be someone’s shot of whiskey than everyone’s cup of tea.”

Excerpt

“So.” I glanced out the windows to the patio. “You want to go back out there?”

“Not really,” she said.

“You want to get out of here?”

She grinned. “Yeah. I do.”

I watched her rush up the stairs to get her things, and as soon as she was out of sight, I adjusted myself in my pants. My dick had jumped to life the second she said yeah, I do, as if the question had been you want to get naked and fuck? rather than something much less suggestive. Not that I didn’t want to get naked and fuck—hopefully I’d last a little longer than I had in the broom closet eleven years ago—but I didn’t want to make her feel like that’s what I expected. She wasn’t a horny nineteen-year-old college student anymore; she was a doctor, for fuck’s sake. She was beautiful and smart and mature and sophisticated, and a woman like her did not want some Neanderthal who probably needed a haircut and a new pair of shoes to throw her up against a wall for a five-minute fuck.

A woman like that deserved attention all night long. She deserved someone who would undress her slowly and delight in each new inch of her skin as it was revealed. Someone who would run his hands all over her body and find out where she liked to be touched, how she liked to be touched, what she wanted to hear whispered to her in the dark. Someone who would wrap those gloriously long legs around his neck and use his tongue until she begged for his cock, then use his cock until she begged for mercy.

Fuck. I could be that guy.

Except I couldn’t be. Not tonight. Because I wasn’t a horny college student anymore either—I was just a horny single dad who didn’t have the luxury of taking a woman home and lavishing all my time and attention on her the way I wanted to.

As soon as I had the thought, I felt guilty. Scotty was the love of my life and always would be, and whenever I felt the slightest bit resentful about something I couldn’t do because of him, that resentment was immediately crushed by shame. He didn’t ask to be born wired differently, into a terrible relationship, to a mother who would decide she couldn’t handle being a parent, to a father who wasn’t prepared for any of it. He was completely innocent, and he needed me to be a better man.

Running a hand through my hair, I exhaled and wondered if I should ask Jillian for a raincheck on a night when Scotty’s usual sitter could be there. If he woke up again and I wasn’t home yet, he might never get back to sleep. We’d be up all night, tomorrow would be miserable, and the whole start to the week would be off.

But she was so beautiful. And I hadn’t been this attracted to someone in so long.

“Fuck,” I muttered, checking my watch. What was the right thing to do? If she were a different sort of woman, if her brother-in-law weren’t my friend and client, if we lived three states apart…if any number of circumstances were changed, I’d grab her hand, drag her out to my car, and spend the next thirty minutes fucking her brains out in the back seat. It would feel so good to take control that way, to lose control that way, to release some of this fucking tension. But was that fair to her?

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Hello?”

“He’s up again.” Monica’s voice was strained, and in the background I heard the familiar keening of a nighttime meltdown. My chest hurt, the way it always did when Scotty was upset.

“Shit. OK, I’m on my way. Twenty minutes, OK? Thirty at the most.”

“OK.”

“Tell him he can play on his iPad.”

“That’ll just rile him up more. He’s tired. He needs to go to sleep.”

I clenched my fist. “Just do it, OK? It will help calm him until I get there.”

As I ended the call, I heard footsteps above, and then Jillian appeared at the top of the stairs carrying a small suitcase. I watched her descend, the tightness in my chest growing. Also the tightness in my pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, her face concerned as she reached the ground and saw my expression. She set down the suitcase. “What’s up?”

Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket. “I have to get home. Scotty woke up and he’s upset.”

“Oh.” She tried to hide it, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“That’s OK. I understand.”

“Can I call you?”

“Of course.” She smiled, and her lips looked so soft and inviting, I took a step closer.

If you kiss her, it will be that much harder to leave.

I knew it was the truth, but I couldn’t help myself. One kiss. Just one. And then I’ll go. I moved even closer and took her head in my hands.

The curve of her smile deepened. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thinking about kissing you.”

“Stop thinking.”

I lowered my lips to hers and let them rest there, fully intending the kiss to be short and sweet, just a goodnight.

But I couldn’t break it off. I wanted more—I wanted to taste her. Slanting my head, I changed the angle of the kiss, teasing her mouth open with mine, slipping my tongue between her lips. A little sigh escaped her, and my dick jumped to life again.

You have to go, you have to go, you have to go.

But her hands were moving up my chest and my fingers were sliding into her soft brown hair and I could smell something sweet and citrusy on her skin and it mingled with the taste of whiskey on my tongue and oh God, I wanted my tongue everywhere on her body. I wanted make her come with it just so I could hear that little sigh again and again and again. And I wanted to feel my hands in her hair just like this while she got on her knees and took my cock between her lips, looking up at me with those big blue eyes…

Groaning, I forced myself to take my lips off her before I completely lost my senses. “God, I wish I could stay,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “I wish a lot of things.”

“I know.” She played with my tie again. “I wish I was taking this tie off you, not straightening it.”

“What a coincidence, that’s one of my wishes too.”

She laughed and kissed me quickly. “Another time, maybe. You better go.”

Also Available

AMAZON US / UK
AMAZON US / UK

About the Author

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.
Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.

 

Cover Reveal – Some Sort of Love by Melanie Harlow

 

Title: Some Sort of Love
Series: Happy Crazy Love #3
Author: Melanie Harlow
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Jenn Watson, Social Butterfly PR
Cover Photo: Love N. Books
Cover Model: Franggy Yanez  
 Release Date: February 9, 2016
On the surface, I have it all—a career I adore, a loving family, the Nixon metabolism but not the Nixon ears, and a salary that supports my lavish taste in designer shoes, fine wine, and lacy lingerie…but I have no one to share it with.
Until the day I run into him—my one night stand from college with the cocky smile, let’s-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth.
Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy. A sexy single dad with broad shoulders, strong hands, and a fantastically big…heart. (I mean, it’s massive. And generous. And it pumps so hard… um. Sorry. Lost my place.)
But he lives for his son, and he’s keeping me at a distance because he thinks I deserve someone better—a man who can give me more time, more attention, more of himself. He doesn’t believe he could ever be enough.
But he’s wrong.
He’s everything.

ADD TO GOODREADS

 

Pre-order Links
AMAZON US / UKiBOOKS

Excerpt

“So.” I glanced out the windows to the patio. “You want to go back out there?”

“Not really,” she said.

“You want to get out of here?”

She grinned. “Yeah. I do.”

I watched her rush up the stairs to get her things, and as soon as she was out of sight, I adjusted myself in my pants. My dick had jumped to life the second she said yeah, I do, as if the question had been you want to get naked and fuck? rather than something much less suggestive. Not that I didn’t want to get naked and fuck—hopefully I’d last a little longer than I had in the broom closet eleven years ago—but I didn’t want to make her feel like that’s what I expected. She wasn’t a horny nineteen-year-old college student anymore; she was a doctor, for fuck’s sake. She was beautiful and smart and mature and sophisticated, and a woman like her did not want some Neanderthal who probably needed a haircut and a new pair of shoes to throw her up against a wall for a five-minute fuck.

A woman like that deserved attention all night long. She deserved someone who would undress her slowly and delight in each new inch of her skin as it was revealed. Someone who would run his hands all over her body and find out where she liked to be touched, how she liked to be touched, what she wanted to hear whispered to her in the dark. Someone who would wrap those gloriously long legs around his neck and use his tongue until she begged for his cock, then use his cock until she begged for mercy.

Fuck. I could be that guy.

Except I couldn’t be. Not tonight. Because I wasn’t a horny college student anymore either—I was just a horny single dad who didn’t have the luxury of taking a woman home and lavishing all my time and attention on her the way I wanted to.

As soon as I had the thought, I felt guilty. Scotty was the love of my life and always would be, and whenever I felt the slightest bit resentful about something I couldn’t do because of him, that resentment was immediately crushed by shame. He didn’t ask to be born wired differently, into a terrible relationship, to a mother who would decide she couldn’t handle being a parent, to a father who wasn’t prepared for any of it. He was completely innocent, and he needed me to be a better man.

Running a hand through my hair, I exhaled and wondered if I should ask Jillian for a raincheck on a night when Scotty’s usual sitter could be there. If he woke up again and I wasn’t home yet, he might never get back to sleep. We’d be up all night, tomorrow would be miserable, and the whole start to the week would be off.

But she was so beautiful. And I hadn’t been this attracted to someone in so long.

“Fuck,” I muttered, checking my watch. What was the right thing to do? If she were a different sort of woman, if her brother-in-law weren’t my friend and client, if we lived three states apart…if any number of circumstances were changed, I’d grab her hand, drag her out to my car, and spend the next thirty minutes fucking her brains out in the back seat. It would feel so good to take control that way, to lose control that way, to release some of this fucking tension. But was that fair to her?

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Hello?”

“He’s up again.” Monica’s voice was strained, and in the background I heard the familiar keening of a nighttime meltdown. My chest hurt, the way it always did when Scotty was upset.

“Shit. OK, I’m on my way. Twenty minutes, OK? Thirty at the most.”

“OK.”

“Tell him he can play on his iPad.”

“That’ll just rile him up more. He’s tired. He needs to go to sleep.”

I clenched my fist. “Just do it, OK? It will help calm him until I get there.”

As I ended the call, I heard footsteps above, and then Jillian appeared at the top of the stairs carrying a small suitcase. I watched her descend, the tightness in my chest growing. Also the tightness in my pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, her face concerned as she reached the ground and saw my expression. She set down the suitcase. “What’s up?”

Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket. “I have to get home. Scotty woke up and he’s upset.”

“Oh.” She tried to hide it, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“That’s OK. I understand.”

“Can I call you?”

“Of course.” She smiled, and her lips looked so soft and inviting, I took a step closer.

If you kiss her, it will be that much harder to leave.

I knew it was the truth, but I couldn’t help myself. One kiss. Just one. And then I’ll go. I moved even closer and took her head in my hands.

The curve of her smile deepened. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thinking about kissing you.”

“Stop thinking.”

I lowered my lips to hers and let them rest there, fully intending the kiss to be short and sweet, just a goodnight.

But I couldn’t break it off. I wanted more—I wanted to taste her. Slanting my head, I changed the angle of the kiss, teasing her mouth open with mine, slipping my tongue between her lips. A little sigh escaped her, and my dick jumped to life again.

You have to go, you have to go, you have to go.

But her hands were moving up my chest and my fingers were sliding into her soft brown hair and I could smell something sweet and citrusy on her skin and it mingled with the taste of whiskey on my tongue and oh God, I wanted my tongue everywhere on her body. I wanted make her come with it just so I could hear that little sigh again and again and again. And I wanted to feel my hands in her hair just like this while she got on her knees and took my cock between her lips, looking up at me with those big blue eyes…

Groaning, I forced myself to take my lips off her before I completely lost my senses. “God, I wish I could stay,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “I wish a lot of things.”

“I know.” She played with my tie again. “I wish I was taking this tie off you, not straightening it.”

“What a coincidence, that’s one of my wishes too.”

She laughed and kissed me quickly. “Another time, maybe. You better go.”

Also Available

AMAZON US / UK
AMAZON US / UK

About the Author

Melanie Harlow likes her martinis dry, her heels high, and her history with the naughty bits left in. When she’s not writing or reading, she gets her kicks from TV series like VEEP, Game of Thrones, House of Cards, and Homeland. She occasionally runs three miles, but only so she can have more gin and steak.

Melanie is the author of the HAPPY CRAZY LOVE series, the FRENCHED series, and the sexy historical SPEAK EASY duet, set in the 1920s. She lifts her glass to romance readers and writers from her home near Detroit, MI, where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and pet rabbit.