Fresh FIction Box Not To Miss
Katee Robert | Author Reader Match: ELECTRIC IDOL
Author Guest / January 17, 2022

Instead of trying to find your perfect match in a dating app, we bring you the “Author-Reader Match” where we introduce you to authors you may fall in love with. It’s our great pleasure to present KATEE ROBERT! Writes: Spicy romance versions of your favorite Greek myths. In Electric Idol, Psyche and Eros get brought into a contemporary setting. She’s a plus-sized influencer, and he’s the hitman tasked with bringing Aphrodite her heart. He can’t quite go through with it, so Eros decides to do the one thing guaranteed to keep Psyche safe. Marry her.   About: I’m all about the inside kid activities. Knitting, reading, video games, and baking take up most of my time. You can usually find me curled up with a good book and my two Great Danes who are convinced they’re appropriately sized lap dogs.   What I’m looking for in my ideal reader match: – Must love their Greek mythology to be more reimagining than strict retelling. – Needs to have a soft spot for murdery, monstrous heroes who are gone for their heroines from the word Go. – Enjoying high heat and explicit spice is a definite requirement! – Be ready for a cunning, savvy heroine who’s no one’s…

Julie Stone | Exclusive Excerpt: HE’S WITH THE BAND
Author Guest / January 17, 2022

“Sorry I bitched about the seats,” Marissa said, sipping the foam from her beer. I shook my head. “Totally fine, they were expensive tickets.” “It’s just, I wanted the full experience, you know? Front row, being sung to, eyes locking. The whole rock and roll fantasy.” “Oh, I get it—more than you know.” Again, she raised an eyebrow. “Do you, now? Please elaborate.” I smiled wickedly. I wasn’t embarrassed of my days following this band, so why had I acted like I was? I opened my mouth to share the story, but then the drum solo started winding into a guitar solo, and I turned back towards our seats. It was calling to me, like a siren song. I glanced back at the bouncer who stood guarding the floor area, his nose buried in his phone. This was our one chance. I reached back to grab hold of Marissa’s hand and stepped down towards the stage, one foot in front of the other, fully expecting to be stopped at some point…but nothing. Not when we reached the back of the crowd, not when we approached the velvet rope of the floor seats, and not even when we reached the opening…