Author: Megan Lowe

Title: All I Want

Series: Rocking Racers #5

Genre: Contemporary Sports Romance

Release Date: June 2, 2018

Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing

Cover Designer: Soxsational Cover Art
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Models: James and Michael

 Available on Kindle Unlimited! 

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Bishop Royal is a sleaze. He’s a cheat, a copycat, a bastard. He knows what you think of him and he doesn’t care. All he cares about is his best friend, Jake.

Jake Ellis has loved Bishop Royal for sixteen years. He’s been by his side through everything: deaths, hardships, and triumphs.

When Bishop’s life is pulled out from underneath him, he figures with nothing left to lose, it’s time to tell Jake how he feels.

Under pressure to be the picture-perfect boyfriend and his father’s perfect son, will Bishop fold or go after the only thing he’s ever truly wanted?

In my pocket my phone rings. I manage to fish it out before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, I just wanted to see how things went.” The voice, which sounds as good as rain on a tin roof in the middle of a drought, belongs to my best friend, flatmate, and object of my affection for over a decade, Jake Ellis.

I give him a wry chuckle. “Pretty fucking bad actually.” But hearing Jake’s voice helps me forget all the shit that just went down in Dean’s office. He’s always had that effect on me. 

“Ah fuck, man, I’m sorry.” 

Jake and I have been friends since we were in primary school, but it was only when we hit high school and everyone was trying to steal glimpses in the girls’ changing room after PE that I realised I wasn’t interested in joining them. No, I was more interested in sneaking peeks at my best friend. Not that I’ve ever told him, or anyone. I have an image to uphold, and even I’ve got to admit I do it pretty fucking well. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Dean is a douche anyway.”

“What happened?” he asks.

“Got the sack,” I reply.

“Shit. Are you okay?”

“Eh.” I shrug, even though he can’t see me.

“Do you want anything? Need anything?”

I’m not going to lie; the fact that Jake is so concerned for me, for my wellbeing makes my heart swell. He knows me so well and that right there is why there will never be anyone else for me. “I think I’m okay,” I reply.

“Still, it’s got to suck.”

I blow out a breath. “Yeah.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue.”

“When are you coming home?” he asks.

I look at my watch. “There’s a flight leaving in a couple of hours, I’ll be on that.”

“Good. Just come home, and we can work out your next move. You don’t have to have everything worked out right this second, okay?”

I nod. This, right here, is why I love Jake so much. He gets me. He’s the only one that ever has, and I know he’s the only person who ever will. “Thanks, Jakey, I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“You know I’ll be here,” he says before hanging up.

My professional future might be a clusterfuck right now, but as long as I have Jake, that’s all I’ll ever need.

 Available on Kindle Unlimited! 

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***

Rocking Racers Series!

Book 1

 All buy links HERE

Book 2

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Book 3

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Megan Lowe is a lost journalism graduate who after many painful years searching for a job in that field, decided if she couldn’t write news stories, she would start listening to the characters whispering stories to her and decided to write them down.  She writes primarily New Adult/Contemporary Romance stories with Sport and Music themes. She is based on the Gold Coast but her heart belongs to New York City. When she’s not writing she’s either curled up with a good book, travelling or screaming at the TV willing her sporting teams to pull out the win.

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Wolf Around The Corner

By Aidee Ladnier

Aidee is giving away a $5 Amazon GC, $10 Amazon GC, Ebooks from her backlist, print books from her backlist. The winners will be chosen by Rafflecopter. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Don't forget you have a chance to enter every day so be sure to visit all the stops on this tour. You may find those locations here.

About Wolf Around the Corner:

Frank’s family taught him that his wolf was dangerous, unwanted. Now his best friend’s brother wants him in bed and on stage. But giving into his wolf’s need for love could risk the quiet life Frank has created for himself—and his heart. Settled in the small town of Waycroft Falls, Frank is content to be a lone wolf among the white picket fences and dollar book bins until he finds himself sniffing his best friend’s brother. Tom smells like hot apple pie and his Broadway smile has Frank lolling his tongue. But when the visiting actor learns Frank’s secret and plies him with hot kisses to get him to star in his play, Frank can’t help but wonder if Tom is only acting. Tom ran away from family obligations to be a Broadway star. If he could make it there, he could make it anywhere…but he didn’t. Trudging home to Waycroft Falls to open his sister’s new performance space brings him face to face with a werewolf—a werewolf that would be perfect for Tom’s shoestring production of Beauty and the Beast. Staying in Tiny Town USA would be worth it if he can somehow convince the sexy wolf to expose his furry condition on stage and howl privately in Tom’s bed. Wolf Around The Corner, a paranormal semi-finalist in Passionate Ink’s 2017 Sexy Scribbles Contest, is a full-length fairytale romance with a side of wolf shifter. If you like your romance with gorgeous men, humor, and small town magic, you’ll love Wolf Around the Corner! Buy your copy now and settle in to watch the drama unfold! Genre: M/M Paranormal Shifter Contemporary Buy Links: Amazon  | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Smashwords | 24Symbols | Indigo | Angus & Robertson | Mondadori ~*~*~*~*~*~ Excerpt:  The first thing he always did was take a large lungful of air. It reoriented him to the outside. His animal cataloged the smells—car exhaust, grass, tree pollen, and wait, a mouse skittering in the Dumpster out back. Frank’s urge to run built. He circled the apartments, looking for the storm drain near the landscaping wall. Inside him, his animal wiggled in excitement at the prospect of being freed. Frank shucked his clothes behind the wall and tucked them into the shelter of the pipe, out of view. Then he shifted, his hands lengthening, hair sprouting, and muzzle growing. His point of view shortened, now three feet from the ground as he blinked through the eyes of his wolflike animal. Frank couldn’t stand still any longer. He sprang into the woods. Frank ran, crashing through the underbrush and into the darkening shelter of the trees. He leaped over a shrub, felt the give of a sapling as he plowed through the brushwood. The animals and birds quieted at his loud, headlong dash, knowing he wasn’t of the forest, only disguised and playing at being a creature of the wood. His paws skidded on a pile of old leaves. Frank almost lost his balance as he skipped up and over a fallen log. Around him, the scents of the forest all pushed in on him. Here a whiff of mold, there an astringent sniff of decay, everywhere the menthol of evergreen sap and wild herbs growing scattered on the forest floor. Dry twigs snapped beneath his paws. His tongue lolled from his mouth, the fresh taste of the woods painting the back of his throat. The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky inking the tops of the trees. And Frank ran on until his limbs stopped, shaky and trembling. He collapsed onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, moss and fungi cradling him as he panted. As he caught his breath, the sounds of the woods lapped back around him. Insects and birds first. A harsh caw from a crow shrieked a hundred yards to his right. The chirp of a cricket sawed a few feet away. The rat-a-tat of a woodpecker echoed above. And the still of twilight calmed him. When he’d rested enough that his legs would support him again, Frank began the slow jog back to the apartments, letting his nose guide him through the darkening visibility of the woods. He could smell Mrs. Reynolds’s nighttime cocoa, and Mr. Reynolds’s liniment that stank of capsaicin. The lighted windows of the apartment building led him the last few feet, and he scurried up to the storm drain. But his clothes weren’t there. The sky darkened into night. Frank knew Mrs. Anderson was out, but he could try to get the elderly Reynolds couple to buzz him inside. And hope they didn’t ask why he was naked trotting up the stairs. Or he could stay in wolf form without a tag, which meant a night outside running from animal control and/or dodging every human that would mistake him for a stray dog. Or wait, a third option. There was an oak that almost reached the ledge of his apartment window on the second floor. He never bothered to lock the window. Frank shifted back to human and sprinted across the yard. He leaped for the lower boughs of the tree, grunting as the bark dug into the flesh of his palms. Frank swung himself up to straddle a branch, regretting it as the rough wood scraped his thighs. He crouched in the tree, awkwardly trying to shield his more delicate parts from the smaller whiplike twigs. He skirted around the trunk, grimacing as a low branch brushed a little too close to his groin. There. He was now on the side that faced the apartment house. Frank balanced upright, his arms pinwheeling until he caught another branch higher up to steady himself. The leaves around him shivered on their stalks, the rustling loud. Please don’t let Mrs. Reynolds look out her window. Using the taller branch as a guide, Frank placed one bare foot in front of the other and inched away from the security of the trunk. The limb beneath his feet shook as his weight tested its strength. He slid a foot farther out on the branch. It dipped, the leaves at the tip brushing against the side of his window. Just a few feet more. An ominous crack sounded beneath him, and Frank froze. The branch popped again. It wouldn’t hold. He could make a jump for it. Frank swallowed hard. He should make a jump for it. Frank jumped. And missed the house, falling into the azalea bushes. Just as his hunky new neighbor from across the hall walked out of the apartment building and down the front steps. Frank had seen Tom in the hall that morning, carrying boxes. Trying to be neighborly, Frank had introduced himself and offered to help. Tom had turned Frank down but flashed the whitest, most even teeth at him. Frank had seen nothing whiter outside of a movie theater big screen. They’d exchanged pleasantries, commented on the weather, and then gone their separate ways. Or rather, that was what Frank wished had happened. What went down was: “Need help?” Frank barely got the words out when his new neighbor turned in the doorway. Frank froze. God, the man was gorgeous. “Naw, man. I got it.” Tom shifted the box in his arms to hold out his hand. “I’m Tom Davidson.” Frank wiped a clammy hand on his jeans and shook Tom’s hand. “Hot.” And Frank knew his mouth had disclosed the exact thing his brain was thinking. Idiot. Who said that to a guy he’d just met? A guy like Tom already knew he was hot. Tom tilted his head as if he hadn’t heard Frank right. “Yeah. The temperatures are a little warm for this time of year.” Frank didn’t dare correct him and kept his mouth shut, afraid he’d say something worse. “Okay, well then, see you around, Frank.” Tom chuckled and continued into his apartment. Meanwhile Frank beat it down the stairs, unsure how he managed not to walk into traffic as his mind ran over the exchange fail again and again. So yeah. That was the less than stellar first impression he’d given Tom this morning. And now Frank followed that up by hunkering down naked in the azalea bushes. “Are you okay?” The gleam from the safety light caught Tom’s dark gold hair as he tilted his head to peer over the shrubs. The shadows sank into his chiseled cheekbones. He looked like a brooding movie star ready to sweep a celluloid damsel off her feet. Too bad Frank was a naked man trying to keep from exposing himself. Frank crouched down farther, making himself as small as possible, hoping the azalea’s pink blooms would distract Tom from looking at his hairy backside. “I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” Tom leaned closer. “Are you… Do you have any clothes on?” Frank racked his brain for some reason he’d be naked and hiding in the bushes. “Um, I, uh, just got out of the shower, and I leaned too far out my window.” “Oh my God. Did you fall from that height?” Tom glanced up to the second floor, to Frank’s closed window and then back down. “Do you need an ambulance?” Frank sighed. This conversation was only getting worse. Cupping his hands over his privates, Frank rose from behind the bushes. “I’m okay. Just need to get back inside. I have a hidden key if you can get me past the front security door.” Tom’s eyes widened when Frank stood. Frank winced, sure he looked like one long scrape covered in leaves. He blew at the hair in his eyes. A twig dangled, caught in an auburn strand, but Frank was unwilling to expose himself to yank it out. “Sure. Sure.” Tom fumbled for his key and opened the door. Frank half hopped over the acorns and chestnut burrs to slide past Tom. Tom wrinkled his nose as Frank passed. Good old wet dog smell. It always clung to him after a run in the woods. Frank took the stairs two at a time to escape. After a shower and shave—why did going furry always lead to needing a shave? The rest of his hair receded. Why didn’t his beard?—Frank spent thirty minutes in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to psych himself up to knock on Tom’s door and invite him over the next day for coffee or to watch football. He scratched behind an ear, feeling the healing scab from a graze he’d gotten when he’d fallen into the azalea bushes. Staring at his reflection, he tried to look earnest and approachable. He could do this. He had game. “Hey, I know you don’t know many people in town, and I’m a loser, but would you like to spend time with me?” Frank made a face at himself. Probably shouldn’t label yourself as a loser. “Yo, you want to watch football? No, how about basketball? Baseball? No? What about Mexican wrestlers?” Oh God, what if Tom doesn’t like sports? “I ordered two large pizzas by mistake tonight, and I could use some help, or I’ll be gorging on pepperoni for a week.” Lame. Frank’s own gaunt features stared back at him from the mirror. Who was he kidding? He’d always be the guy who lost the genetic lottery and ended up with the family curse. Galen’s syndrome was rare, only affecting about one in 2,000, but well-known enough that most people had at least heard of it. The Greek surgeon Galen had coined the word lycanthropy to explain the shape-shifting curse that traveled down through a family tree. Like most recessive gene disorders, it only manifested when two genes were passed down to a child, leading early scholars to think the afflicted had been re-cursed or spared for a generation due to divine providence. It was only with modern medicine that curses were found to be attached to DNA, breaking and molding chromosomes like magical radiation. But despite better understanding of the disorder, the stigma remained, not helped by the occasional local television feature linking the disorder to werewolf mythology. All Frank knew was the recessive curse gene made him even more different from his family. He’d already been pushing it when he came out as gay. Turning into a wolf at sixteen had been…well, more than his father and stepmother could handle. She wanted to protect the kids, she told him. He loved his half siblings, didn’t he? It wasn’t safe to have a wild animal around children. It had gutted him. They turned him out of his own home. He’d been angry. He’d done something stupid, lashing out, snapping at his sister Robbie. It still hurt, remembering the tears on his baby sister’s face, her eyes wide and scared. Of him. It was then he knew his stepmother had been right. Dangerous animals didn’t belong in a family. So he’d left, traveling all the way across the state until he landed in Waycroft Falls. It had been hard that first year. There were a lot of adult things he still hadn’t figured out. Like how to ask out a guy who he hadn’t known his whole life. Moving from one small town to another had been a bad idea. Frank bonked his head against the mirror, gazing down into the white porcelain sink. He rubbed at a stray hair that clung to the side. But on the plus side, small towns meant he rarely needed a car. And he could shift and run if he needed. He should take his clothes with him ~*~*~*~*~*~ About the Author:  Aidee Ladnier, an award-winning author of speculative fiction, believes that adventure is around every corner. In pursuit of new experiences she's worked as a magician’s assistant, been a beauty pageant contestant, ridden in hot air balloons, produced independent movies, hiked up a volcano, and is a proud citizen scientist. A lover of genre fiction, Aidee's perfect romance has a little science fiction, fantasy, mystery, or the paranormal thrown in to add a zing. Social Links:  Website: http://www.aideeladnier.com/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6570769.Aidee_Ladnier Amazon: amazon.com/author/aideeladnier Tumblr: http://aideemoi.tumblr.com/ Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/aideelad/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aideelad/ Instagram: http://instagram.com/aideelad/ a Rafflecopter giveaway

Discover the Bestselling Four Days Series Today!

Author: A.S. Kelly

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Stand-alone Series: Four Days

Cover Designer: Shanoff Designs

First published in Italian.

BOOK ONE - 99c SALE

Tormented rock star Liam O’Reilly left Dublin and achieved success, hoping to build a new life, free from the demons of his past. Now that seems he’s got everything he ever wanted, why isn’t he happy? Is it because he’s realized that the most important thing in his life is the promise that he never kept?

Sensitive and damaged Rain O’Donovan lives with her brother and his friends in a tiny seaside town north of Dublin. Once a popular and lively schoolteacher, a car accident has wrecked her life, so that her only pleasure is walking in the rain, and her world revolves around mundane tasks, devoid of hope for the future. The amnesia around the time of the accident that changed everything means that her struggle with life is a day-to-day torture, and, more than anything else, she longs for answers.

When Liam returns to his hometown after his two-year absence, he’s determined to try to make amends for the terrible mistakes he made. But is it too late to put things right?

Rainy Days is a complete standalone and a part of the Four Days Series.

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Patrick Doyle is a rude, selfish and cynical man, but for his friends and family, he’d do anything. His dream of pursuing music came to an abrupt halt after a car accident involving those he loves most in the world after which he dedicated himself to working full time in the pub he manages with his childhood buddies, keeping his distance from love or any other kind of bind.

Erin O’Neill is a bright young woman with her future well planned: she’s about to graduate, she’s got a part-time job in Patrick’s pub and the perfect boyfriend until the unexpected happens, upsetting her life and turning all her well-laid plans upside down, leaving her alone and desperate.

Patrick isn’t the kind of guy to get caught up in other people’s problems, especially if it involves a damsel in distress, but he can’t help coming to her aid and finds himself catapulted into her life against his will—even if he would like to maybe be part of that life—even if that means getting hurt, and hurting her too. Because Patrick destroys everything he touches.

Sweet Days is a complete standalone and a part of the Four Days Series

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And then the door slams open.
And he’s here.
He’s worried, and scared and desperate.
He’s absolutely perfect.
He looks at me and in a heartbeat all the pieces come back together and I can breathe again, as if he were the air passing through my lungs.
“I … I’m sorry,” he yells, trying to drown out the sound of the hail.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I yell back.
He takes a step forward.
“It is. I allowed all of this to happen. I established a reputation that meant that trashy girls like that would come here looking for me. I made it so that everyone believed that I am the dickhead that I really am. That you would think it too.”
“And you are,” I say, moving my wet hair from my eyes.
“I am.” He smiles bitterly. “But I don’t want to be like that any more.”
“No?” I ask with a pained voice and a bit of hope brushing up against my heart.
“No I don’t. But I’ll need your help,” he says, taking another step closer to me. “I need you to help me to be a better person.”
“M-me? Why me?”
Another step closer and his forehead is touching mine. It caresses my face and I close my eyes to let his touch imprint itself in my mind.
“Because with you, Erin, I feel I can be … different. I can be myself. I feel that I can finally be a man.”

A. S. Kelly was born in Italy but lives in Ireland with her husband, two children and a cat named Oscar.

She’s passionate about English literature, she’s a music lover and addicted to coffee. She spends her days in a small village North of Dublin, looking for inspiration for her next stories.

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Author: Dahlia Donovan

Title: One Last Heist

Genre: Gay Romantic Suspense

Release Date: May 26, 2018

Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing

Cover Designer: Soxsational Cover Art

Cover Model: Stuart Reardon

Photographer: FuriousFotog

 Available now! 

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IwvZHc

All other links: books2read.com/last-heist

One last heist.

It should’ve been easy. Crack a safe, steal from a villain, and go on vacation. The last thing Mack and Toshiro expect is to descend into a nightmare of betrayal.

Mack Ueda-Easton loves three things: his husband, heists, and his odd family of friends. He lives life on the edge. The only cloud on his horizon is the degenerative disease stealing his sight.

Toshiro Ueda-Easton tries to juggle his husband, his autistic sister, his interfering mother, and all of their heists. He knows they’re spiraling out of control and the journey they’re travelling can’t last.

What neither of them expect is to get catapulted straight into a dangerous conspiracy. They’re now in a race to come out on top. If they fail, the consequences are unimaginable.

Toshiro slid a hand up his own chest, toying with one of the barbells. “Avoir le feu au cul.”

“Did you just say my arse was on fire?” Mack blinked at Toshiro.

“Some phrases shouldn’t be directly translated; you lose a bit of the meaning.” He grinned at him; his fingers still toying with his piercing.

“I’ll assume it meant something sexually enthralling as you certainly sounded sexy as fuck when you said it.” Mack closed the distance between them and swung Toshiro around to press him against the window. Their lips connected in a bruising kiss that left him breathing in hard gasps. “You’re so bloody gorgeous. Why’d you marry an old pirate like me?”

“First, we’re the same age.” Toshiro lunged forward to bite Mack’s bottom lip, sucking on it before easing away. “Second, you’re hung like a horse. Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“Prat.” Mack snaked a hand around to swat his husband on the arse. “Thought you wanted my money?”

“That too,” he teased. “Up against the wall and spread ’em. Time to play fruit monger and thoroughly inspect the merchandise.”

They shared several bruising kisses until a breathless Toshiro shoved him back. He dropped to his knees. 

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Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.

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Title: Wine Thief

Author: Mary Billiter

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: May 29, 2018

Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing

Cover Designer: Soxsational Cover Art

 Available now! 

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2KMCt1v

All other links: books2read.com/winethief

 

What happens when a corporate spy clashes with a woman he can’t help but fall for? In Mary Billiter’s witty novel of deception and heat, a red-hot suit and a beautiful academic are linked by a vineyard and the mystery surrounding its origins.

Chloe Dorsey places her belongings in storage, puts Southern California in her rearview mirror, and heads to her sister’s home in Northern California for a fresh start. As one of the newly hired wine educators at the Napa Valley Point Resort and Winery, Chloe’s knowledge of wine is as limited as her income.

Anthony “Tony” Mahoney has one objective—to locate the Mother Vine, the source of the rare and award-winning wine that can only be found at the Napa Valley Point Resort and Winery. His talent for stealing secrets is tested when he makes an unlikely alliance with the one woman who could destroy all his plans.

Can Chloe stop the wine thief, or will she have her heart crushed in the process?

Nice wheels. The only thing hotter than the Mercedes SLK roadster that pulled into the lot was the driver. Something about a woman handling a fast car revved my engine. It was lame, but with her bright green scarf blowing in the wind, and dark Ray Bans covering half her face, she carefully navigated around the potholes in the parking lot like a pro. Then I noticed the dealer plates on the back of her car. Her careful maneuvering wasn’t an attention grab, but a move toward preventing a trip to the car wash. Smart. When she parked as far away from the crowd gathered by the train as possible, I’d bet money it was from a lack of experience parking the new ride. Her car was flashy, but something told me she wasn’t. But what did I know? Probably wishful thinking.

“Fifty bucks says she checks herself in the rearview before she exits.” Ty stood beside me. We were already into our first glass of wine, and about to claim the caboose.

“I’m in on that action.” Dan shouldered his way past us to stand on the top step. Taller and leaner than both of us, Dan didn’t need the extra leverage, but his years playing basketball made him position himself wherever he went. We all played ball together in high school and college, but Dan was the only one who had recruiters scout him out. He’d opted for an education over a basketball career, which I never understood. But that was Dan. A locked door prevented him from entering the tail end of the train and the ultimate center post.

“What about you?” Ty elbowed me. As our former point guard, he hadn’t outgrown his misuse of swinging elbows and causing personal fouls.

I shook my head. “No, my money says she won’t.”

Dan gripped my shoulder hard, like he was palming a basketball. “Oh, sweet Tony, always wanting to see the best. Look at her. Mercedes. Scarf. Big glasses. She reeks of conceit and money.”

“We’re in Napa, about to board a semiprivate wine train for your four-hour bachelor party,” I said. “It’d be hard to find someone in this crowd who doesn’t reek of money.” I paused and looked at the woman in question. The scarf, while loud in color, didn’t scream of conceit, but rather class. “It gets windy in a convertible,” I said absently.

“I think Tony likes her,” Dan said.

I shrugged him off me.

The woman we were stalking, I hoped from an appropriate distance, reached behind her head and untied her scarf. I hated to admit it, but I felt a bit of an adrenaline spike waiting for the reveal. With the green scarf, I think I was expecting a ginger, but instead smooth black hair that hit her chin shone in the sunlight.

“Short hair?” Ty said. “Why would she need a scarf?”

Dan laughed. “That girl has a hell of a lot more hair than me.” His black hair was thinning, and we knew it’d soon be gone like his father’s. But until then, Dan spiked it forward. He stood with a shit-eating grin on his face that made me shake my head.

When a tall blonde sipping a glass of red glanced over at us, I politely smiled in her direction. I shot my two moronic friends a stern warning glare, but that didn’t stop either of them from laughing. And despite myself, I grinned, but added, “Nothing wrong with short hair. And from where I’m standing she wears it well.”

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Mary Billiter is a weekly newspaper columnist and fiction author. She also has novels published under the pen name, “Pumpkin Spice.”

Mary resides in the Cowboy State with her unabashedly bald husband, her four amazing children, two fantastic step-kids, and their runaway dog. She does her best writing (in her head) on her daily runs in wild, romantic, beautiful Wyoming.

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