Tag: 3

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Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows

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Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows
Paula Dombrowiak
(Hollow Reign, )
Publication date: October 6th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

He’s the uptight rockstar directing the music for my burlesque Christmas show, and driving the grumpy maestro to throw his sheet music is my favorite hobby.

Then we wake up married, and he can’t remember a single thing about our night together.

Theo Mercer is an arrogant control freak in rolled-up sleeves and glasses who thinks he can tame my headlining act. But on my stage, I call the shots. Beneath the falling stage snow, the friction between us is hot enough to burn the theater down.

When our accidental Vegas wedding explodes across the tabloids, Theo swallows his pride and drops to one knee to propose a holiday charade: play blissfully wedded—which means moving my insufferable new husband into my cramped studio apartment.

Forced proximity beneath the mistletoe turns our backstage feud into breathless passion, and behind closed doors, our fake marriage starts to feel dangerously real.

Except our vows have an expiration date. When the tinsel comes down on New Year’s, Theo has to leave.

He swears he’s coming back.

But I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, after a string of men who never kept their word. If I let down my walls only to get burned by my fake husband… I won’t survive the fall.

Jingle Bells, Wedding Vows is Book 3 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas, a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances. Each book can be read as a standalone and features a guaranteed happily ever after.

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EXCERPT:

In sleep, she looks almost angelic.

Which would be a lot more convincing if I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing she’s a complete and utter menace in sequins and red lipstick who has spent the last couple of weeks driving me insane. The star of the Christmas show who argues with me about every note I wrote for her number. The woman who loves to push my buttons like no one I’ve ever met before.

Mara Delaney.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Do not tell me I did what I think I did.

My stomach drops as I lift the edge of the sheet and look down. Finding myself still in my boxers should be reassuring, but the relief is fleeting, swallowed almost immediately by a deeper sense of dread.

I turn my head toward Mara. The sheet has slipped just enough to expose the curve of her bare shoulder. I pinch the edge of the sheet to lift it.

Please don’t let her be naked. Please don’t let her be naked.

Fuck, she’s naked.

I don’t remember how I got here. Last night is a haze of disconnected pieces, and everything that matters is missing.

I ease out of bed with the stealth of a military operative trying not to set off a bomb. My shirt is draped over a velvet armchair, and I pull it on before anything else because I need at least one layer of dignity between me and whatever the hell happened last night. One of my Vans sits near the bathroom door. I shove my foot into it and search for the other, getting a good look at Mara’s apartment in the process.

I run a hand through my hair and pull it back to stare at it before my brain catches up to what I’m seeing.

There’s a gold band on my ring finger. Not the kind that comes out of a gumball machine.

What the actual fuck?

My gaze snaps to Mara.

I lean over the bed to see Mara’s hand curled loosely around the sheet, dark red polish chipped at the edges.

The ring on her finger matches mine.

This has to be a joke. Some elaborate, deeply unfunny prank, and when I find Casey, I’m going to kill him slowly, because somehow he’s responsible.

There’s a marriage certificate on the nightstand next to my phone.

Author Bio:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

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Haunted Holiday

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Haunted Holiday
Lindsey Gray
(The Holiday Chronicles, )
Publication date: September 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance, Supernatural

Everyone in Clarkstown believes they know who killed firefighter Zane Gravenhurst.

His girlfriend, Jillian, sits behind bars, accused of leaving him to die after a rainy night ended in tragedy. The case is all but closed.

Only Zane’s younger sister, Molly, knows the truth isn’t buried because she can communicate with his ghost.

Molly needs help to get justice for her brother.

Her shy neighbor, whom she’s crushed on since high school, Duncan, comes to her aid.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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EXCERPT:

Molly

“Molly! Wake up!”

Molly groaned and rolled over to check the red numbers on her bedside clock. She wanted to jump back into the dream she’d been having before the voice rudely awakened her. In that dream, her thoughts lingered on her neighbor, Duncan, the one with the scar etched across his ear. Something in the scene comforted her; she wished to slip back into that warm haze and forget all the chaos that surrounded her.

“It’s five am, Zane. I’m not making you breakfast this early.” Her older brother, Zane, tended to work odd hours as a firefighter, but Molly spent three days climbing out of the grip of the flu going around the high school where she taught theater. She had no desire to indulge her brother’s cravings.

“Molly Gravenhurst. Please wake up. We need to talk,” the new voice pleaded.

The voice of her grandmother, Dawn, reached her foggy brain. Her dead grandmother.

Molly jerked up in bed and focused on the two ghosts that stood at the end. The appearance of her grandmother didn’t surprise her. What her grandmother called her “second sight” made her capable of communication with earthbound spirits. Genuine shock and abject horror slammed into her when she saw her brother, Zane. The night before, he’d been alive and kicking.

“No,” Molly whispered in utter terror. A simple, horrifying truth struck her. If her brother were a ghost, then he was dead.

Molly could see ghosts, a gift she possessed since toddlerhood. Three years ago, when her grandmother died, she and Zane inherited her house and the care of their grandmother’s ghost. While he lived, Grandma Dawn’s ghost remained invisible to Zane. Now, a ghost himself, he could finally see her.

“I know this is a shock, Molly, but Zane needs you to pull yourself together.” Grandma Dawn’s tone snapped Molly out of her silence.

“Wha-wha-what happened, Zane?” Molly fisted her blanket while she tried to gather herself.

“Jillian dropped me off at Paddy’s. He wanted to continue the Halloween party back at his house. After Paddy and I walked into the garage, everything is blank. I appeared in the kitchen here, where I found Grandma.” Zane spoke with clinical precision, not an ounce of emotion. She understood the pain of death since she dealt with the pain ghosts experienced every day.

“Where’s Jillian?” Molly grabbed her cell phone from her bedside table. “I need to call her.”

“She’s asleep on the sofa.” Zane’s voice cracked at the end of his statement. “I just peeked for a second. I can’t go …I don’t …”

Grandma Dawn took Zane’s hand in hers in a gesture of comfort and compassion.

Molly struggled with what to do next. She’d barely adjusted to her grandmother’s death. How could she live without her brother’s hugs, his teasing slaps, or witnessing his love and devotion for Jillian?

“What do I need to do?” Grandma Dawn died in her sleep. She found her in the primary bedroom of the very house she lived in. Where was Zane’s body? If it were at Paddy’s house, Paddy would have called her by now? He was Zane’s best friend. He’d had her number since the day she got it thirteen years ago.

Before Zane or Grandma Dawn had a chance to answer, Jillian burst into Molly’s attic space.

“You’re awake. Thank God.” She burst into the room and threw herself onto Molly’s bed, her blonde hair pulled back into a crooked ponytail. “Zane hasn’t come home yet. It’s still pouring outside. Visibility is shit. What if he got in an accident? What if he and Paddy are in a ditch? What if he tried to walk home and got hit by a car? I’ve called him five times and texted him six times. He hasn’t responded.”

Jillian’s frantic questions made sense, but she couldn’t confirm anything because she didn’t know whether any of those possibilities were correct. Neither did either of the ghosts.

“Let’s think.” Molly pushed away the knowledge of her brother’s death and gathered her thoughts. “You all went to that big Halloween party downtown, right?”

“Yeah. Paddy invited a bunch of us over to his house, but I told Zane I needed sleep. My sinuses have been getting worse. I think I caught whatever you have.” Congestion clogged Jillian’s voice, and tears or illness left her eyes red and bloodshot. Molly’s heart sank. The same symptoms had stalked her for the past several days.

“You dropped him off at Paddy and Lucky’s house, then?”

Jillian nodded. “It started to rain a few minutes before I got here. Now it’s pouring.”

“Let’s call Paddy first. Who else came to the party?” Molly scrolled through her numbers in her contacts to find Paddy’s number.

“Barb Sterling and her husband, Rhett.” Jillian dialed the number on speaker. “Then Marty and Ellen Culver. Maybe Grant Hannah. I think Paddy’s little brothers and a bunch of their friends were in town and staying with him for a while.” Voicemail answered after five rings. “It’s Jillian and Molly. Zane isn’t home. Is he with you, or do you have any idea where he went? Call me.”

“I’ve got Barb’s number.” Molly dialed and placed it on speaker.

“Molly?” Barb answered with a yawn. “What’s going on? It’s the butt crack of dawn.”

“Zane never came home from Paddy’s last night. Did he stay over? We can’t contact Zane or Paddy.”

“Wait a minute.” The sound of sheets and blankets shifting came through the speaker. “Jillian’s car pulled up outside Paddy’s house, but neither of them came in. I tried calling and texting Zane after her car left, but I never got an answer. We left here around two.”

“We need to look for him. I dropped him off and came back to his house,” Jillian’s voice carried extreme anxiety, burgeoning into mania.

“Jillian?” Barb yawned again on her end.

“What’s going on?” Molly heard a sleepy Rhett ask on the other end of the line.

“Jillian said she dropped Zane off at Paddy’s. I never saw him, did you?” Barb asked her husband.

“No. I thought it was weird you said you saw Jillian’s car, but they didn’t come in. But I started singing karaoke with Marty and lost track of everything.” Molly imagined the sound of strangled cats coming from Marty. None of Zane’s friends had a lick of musical or theatrical talent as she did.

Every wasted second ratcheted up Molly’s anxiety. They were no closer to answers. She looked to Zane for any suggestions while Jillian threw out scenarios left and right. Zane shrugged as he watched his girlfriend torment herself with grim what-ifs.

Barb decided she would come pick up Jillian, and they would search around town. Molly agreed to stay home in case Zane made his way back.

Molly knew for an absolute fact that November 1st would be the worst day of her life.

Author Bio:

Lindsey Gray is a writer, an over-thinker, and a chronic list-maker, but her passion for writing stories you’ll love always tops the list. Her author journey began in 2010 with the publication of her first novel, and she has spent the last decade creating worlds for readers to play in. In addition to her own work, Gray uses her skills in novel formatting for other authors and hosts the weekly show Gray Matters on TMV Cafe Internet Radio. She lives and writes fueled by iced tea, her handsome hubby, and the beautiful chaos of mothering her children.

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The Art of Almost Losing It

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The Art of Almost Losing It
Alina Jacobs
(The Richmond Brothers, )
Publication date: August 4th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

There comes a time in every almost-thirty-year-old woman’s life when getting kidnapped off the street is preferable to admitting that the hot, rich boyfriend you’ve been bragging about for months does not, in fact, exist.

Yes, it’s terrifying being stuffed in the trunk of a Mercedes, but I would rather be locked in a stranger’s penthouse than sleeping on the floor of my parents’ apartment like the loser daughter I am.

Honestly?
It’s nice to get some alone time. And my own bathroom.

He bribes me with money not to call the police.

I scream at him for forcing me to go to brunch as his prisoner at the hottest restaurant in New York.

Now everyone in my parents’ aggressively posh Manhattan neighborhood thinks we’re dating.

Buckle up, buddy.
I have a full wedding itinerary to attend, and congratulations—you’re my fake boyfriend.

Unfortunately, my kidnapper is the worst fake boyfriend in the history of fake boyfriends.

He’s mean.
Aloof.
Emotionally unavailable.
And deeply offended by how much time I spend on my phone.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to ignore how yummy he smells, all muscular and tall as he fumes next to me in bed, furious because I asked him when the sexy portion of the kidnapping is going to happen.

It’s a fair question, though, right?!? I thought kidnapping came with benefits!

Guess my kidnapper didn’t want me that much after all.

Men lying about their desire for a relationship. Story of my life.

Now I’m trapped.
He’s miserable.

And somehow, this is starting to feel dangerously like a relationship.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

The one time a hot guy shows interest in me… and he’s a violent kidnapper.

My screams cut off as he tosses in my laptop case. It lands on my ribs, knocking the breath out of me. He shoves my legs fully into the trunk, then tosses in the barking Lulu, then slams the door.

I assume it’s a mistake.

The expensive German car. The bespoke suit. The cologne that smells like money and expensive scotch—Men like him don’t grab women like me.

So why did he just shove me, in all my pizza-sauce-stained, Costco-clothes glory, into the trunk?

I needed a boyfriend, sure, but I did not expect him to arrive via a felony crime.

The engine purrs.

Wait.

Am I really being kidnapped?

Like… for real?

Sleet rattles against the roof as the realization hits.

Oh.

Oh no.

I’m trapped in the trunk of a stranger’s car. A dangerous man. Being driven God knows where.

Sure, he’s attractive—but that is deeply unhelpful information right now.

I’ll never see my family again. Never eat a dollar slice of pizza again—

Wait.

I squint.

Window.

This isn’t a sedan. This is an SUV.

I’m not trapped.

I haul myself up and pop my head over the back seat.

“You’re a crappy kidnapper!” I scream.

“Shit!” he yells—and nearly plows into a parked truck. “You—!”

The car jerks to a stop at a stop sign. He throws it into park and starts climbing over the seats toward me.

“You can’t kidnap me,” I say, panic creeping in. “You don’t want me. I’m not a girl anyone kidnaps.”

My dog barks.

Emerald-green eyes catch the light.

“Sit down,” he commands.

“My mom is going to be really upset if I don’t come home tonight,” I blurt. “Let me go.”

The doors lock.

I fumble in my purse. Find my pepper spray.

“Yes!” I whisper. “I’m a strong, independent —”

I spray… myself.

“Water,” I gasp, coughing, wheezing, blind.

I suck in a lungful of peppery air and yank at the door handle, begging it to open.

Too late.

“Stupid fucking girl,” he snarls, grabbing my jacket and dragging me forward.

“You didn’t even handcuff me!” I wheeze.

He pauses. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

He loosens his tie.

I gulp.

“I cannot believe,” he sneers, “that I kidnapped the most unattractive woman in Manhattan.”

Oh.

So… not the future love of my life after all.

Author Bio:

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

http://alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html

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All the Way to the Moon

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All the Way to the Moon
Rose Titus
(The Vampire Next Door, )
Publication date: April 3rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

An innocent girl, a vampire, an old lady, a ghost, and a werewolf must combine their talents to defeat an evil billionaire and his hired professional killer…

In Night Home: the Vampire Next Door Book 1, the fact that vampires truly exist was almost made public when a story presented as fiction seemed all too real to a vampire hunter.

In After Dark: the Vampire Next Door Book 2, a community of vampires quietly hiding on the west coast needed to defeat a serial killer before being blamed for his acts of terror, while at the same time one of them found himself falling in love with a suicidal young woman who expected him to kill her.

In All the Way to the Moon: the Vampire Next Door Book 3, vampires on the west coast consider whether to reveal their existence and communicate with others of their kind. Laura, no longer wishing for death, and finally finding happiness in her young life, discovers to her horror that her wealthy and powerful father intends to kill her. To survive she must flee her new home and leave her new friends, and travel far to find safety, unaware that a hired killer is not far behind.

Fortunately she has a werewolf to help protect her.

Goodreads / Amazon


Author Bio:

Rose Titus resides somewhere in cold, dreary New England with two manipulative cats and a very out of date computer with which she creates horror and fantasy fiction. She also has a restored classic Buick to ride around in while in search of adventure.

For travel she has stayed the night in an allegedly haunted castle, has taken a boat ride on Loch Ness, and has visited the Bermuda Triangle — without getting lost.

Her work has previously appeared in Lost Worlds, Lynx Eye, Bog Gob, Mausoleum, Weird Terrain, Descend, The Dead River Review, and other literary magazines. She also writes regularly for Blood Moon Rising Magazine.

When she’s not working or writing or messing with her old car, she waits by the mailbox for her Fortean Times to arrive.

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Bound Beauty

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Bound Beauty
Jennifer Silverwood
(A Wylder Tale, )
Publication date: July 14th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Forgotten gods haunt her steps, and the cursed prince she left behind isn’t done fighting for her soul.

Vynasha is bound to the prince of Bitterhelm. Even if she were to die, her spirit will remain trapped with him in the castle forever. But she won’t give in to Grendel without a fight. With the aid of an oracle, a witchling, and the wolf that claims her heart, Vynasha plans to claim her power as the curse breaker.

Ceddrych guards their nephew secretly while fighting to keep the feral beasts roaming their borders at bay. But the monsters are closing in, and the madness he has struggled with drives him to one desperate, unforgivable act.

A war is about to begin between the forgotten people of Wylderland and the cruel might of Bitterhelm. Beings of prophecy and legend unite in the epic third chapter of the Wylder Tales Series, a romantic gothic re-telling of Beauty and the Beast.

WYLDER TALES is a series of romantic dark fairy tales, set in the past of the wider Borderlands Saga, and includes:
•slow burn romantasy
•forced proximity
•enemies to lovers
•found family
•magical bonds
•wicked witches
•burly beasts
•morally gray characters

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

IN A FORBIDEN DREAM IN WYLDERLAND…

The journey seemed to take far longer than she remembered, and part of her feared the passage of time here compared to the world her body remained behind. Ceddrych had told her countless tales of the dangers of magick, of what happened when one dwelled too long in enchanted dreams.

Here the palace looked less like a ruin wrought from rampage. Candles gave off an unnatural silver glow and the hovering lights that had been trailing Vynasha seemed to thicken and gather as she lifted a hand to push open the doors to the throne room. They cracked open before her hand could touch the intricately carved wood.

Snow filtered in through the broken ceiling and rose vines curled over every surface, crawling up the obsidian columns and steps to the throne. Surrounding the steps, the shadow-spirits of beasts of every size and shape lounged and paced. Their forms flickered about the edges, and their eyes glowed brightly, turning to fix upon Vynasha as she slowly entered the hall.

Upon the throne, the thorned vines had dug into a hunched over man. His blood gleamed luminous violet, the same shade as hers was now.

With every step she took, the full wreck of his downfall became increasingly apparent. The shadow beasts at her back pressed closer, urging her forward. Vynasha clenched her fists and refused to climb the steps to face him.

“Grendel.” Her voice echoed like a plucked lute string through the cavernous hall.

Grendel shuddered and then raised his head and looked at her with dead violet eyes. “Vynasha.” The crack in his voice echoed clearly to her ears. His eyes widened when she remained, and his vine-wrapped hands clawed at the arms of his throne. “You have come at last.”

Her feet began to move of their own accord. She barely caught herself in time. She could not, would not go to him, and certainly never pity him. “What happened here? Why are my roses taking over like this?”

“Can you not guess, Vynasha” Grendel leaned forward, ignoring the press of the rose crowning his dark hair. “Vynasha, you have no idea how your absence has undone me. It has been pure torture to sense you but never able to touch you.”

“Good.” Vynasha took a single involuntary step up the stairs leading to his throne. His violet eyes flared wide with apprehension as she growled, “You and your monsters have made our lives a living hell, Grendel. It’s only fair I repay your bloody kindness.”

Grendel’s lips parted and his gaze took in the full measure of her with all the subtlety of a starving man. “Yet you are here,” he said, a new clarity brightening his violet gaze. His hands flexed against the arms of his throne. “You are truly here, and that means the spell has been broken.”

Vynasha flinched at his sudden smile and found herself unable to take a step back. Her feet drove her forward once more, and this time she had no power over herself to stop. “What are you doing to me?”

Grendel’s hand twitched and then she was flung forward. He groaned as he caught her, the thorns digging deeper into his flesh. She cried out as the same thorns cut her palms as she braced herself against his chest. “I have you, at last, I have you,” he said, eyes bright with unshed tears.

He was mad. No, she was mad. For the instant her hands found his flesh, a roaring wave of need assaulted her. She could rage at him and claim this was his need she felt, not her own. But this compulsion was familiar, forbidden and something she had fought desperately to forget in the past three moons.

“Grendel, let me go” she pleaded as she leaned into him, the pain of his thorns forgotten as he pulled her into his lap and began to press his lips over every part of her he could reach.

“How could I give you up my beauty, my love, my queen?”

She couldn’t breathe. The scent of roses, of life and death, of him were overwhelming. A part of her was starving, had been starving for months, she realized wish sickening clarity. “I hate you,” she sobbed as she tilted her chin and gave him further access to her neck. “If you pull me back here again, I will find a way to kill you, I swear it.”

“You cannot kill me without killing yourself, love,” he said with a laugh.

“Then we both die.” She shook her head but could not help tracing her nose along his neck, to draw in more of his heady scent.

“Vynasha,” he cried as her lips pressed to his pulse. “Please, Vynasha!”

But he was no longer tangible beneath her hands, the thorns no longer piercing them both. The painful aching need to mold herself to him faded just as she did, her hands disappearing before her eyes.

“Vynasha!” He cried with an agony she felt as her spirit was ripped free from Grendel’s nightmare. And the world around her dimmed, consumed by a cloud of inky ashes.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Silverwood lives in the middle of an enchanted forest surrounded by cursed books, nosy spirits, and mischievous goblins she calls her children. After beginning several nonsensical degrees, she found her calling helping other authors bring their books to life. Jennifer is the author of two fairy tale fantasy series: the Borderlands Saga and Wylder Tales. Because she wasn’t satisfied writing in one genre, she also invites you to explore uncharted space with the Heaven’s Edge Novellas—and dare to fall in love again with the standalone romance titles Stay and She Walks in Moonlight.

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