As soon as I round the bend from Chicago to Michigan, I see a wall of clouds over Lake Michigan. Half of the sky is bright blue, the other half is steel gray, as if Mother Nature has hung a banner announcing, Nightmare Ahead! Lake-effect snow. My hands immediately tighten around the wheel. I see a Pure Michigan billboard, touting the beauty and landmarks of the state, and laugh. Lake-effect snow is Pure Michigan, I think, my former ad exec coming out, but I don’t see any billboards touting that. Without warning, the world goes from clear skies to total blizzard. I slow the car, tighten my grip even more and turn on my headlights. Lake-effect snow is not just snow, it’s as if the winter skies have opened up and are weeping centuries of frozen tears upon the earth. Within moments, the highway is covered and slick, and trucks and cars are moving at a snail’s pace. My heart is thumping like a jackhammer, and I immediately lament my life change. How could I have forgotten that winter lasts longer than summer, fall and spring in Michigan? Combined! What have I done? My earnings season will be shorter than…

A generator started up and spotlights clicked on inside the barn, illuminating the dark corners. Nevada was close. The light drew Macy’s attention to the right corner, which was roped off with red crime scene tape. The forensic tech had designated this area as very sensitive because most of the bones and the backpack had fallen here. Inside the tape, the techs had shifted the dirt as they had searched for the last bits of Tobi Turner. Macy elbowed aside anger and shifted her attention to the lost girl and her killer. Photos of Tobi’s backpack had shown that it had contained simple jeans, a sweater, and tennis shoes, but the fabric remnants and glittering blue cowboy boots found with the body suggested she had changed after she left her parents’ house. Macy suspected Tobi had lied about the study session and had diverted to a party. The killer could have recognized her desire for excitement and used it against her. “You made it.” Nevada’s deep voice snapped her back. Macy faced him and saw his shocked expression when he got his first good look at her. He quickly masked the reaction, and his expression became unreadable. Determined to prove…

In THE CLAIMING OF THE SHREW, Catarina Neves begged Benedict Draven to marry her years before. She was desperate to escape an arranged marriage, and the brave English soldier seemed her only choice. Now Catarina is in London to ask for an annulment, but Benedict isn’t so sure he wants to give her up… “Senhor. You have come, as you promised.” “I’m a man of my word.” He moved forward, entering the parlor. “You have met my sister?” He looked back at Ines for a moment, but it was Catarina who held his gaze. The younger sister said something in Portuguese. He knew a bit of the language, but he wasn’t paying enough attention to translate. Then the younger sister exited to the bed chamber and he and Catarina were alone. They looked at each other for a long time. Finally, Catarina said, “I will ring for tea.” “There’s no need.” “I know your customs. It is appropriate to serve a caller tea.” “I’m your husband. I think we can dispense with the social customs.” Her dark eyes flashed fire before she quickly lowered her lashes. There was the temper he knew so well. She was attempting to control it…

A knock on the door interrupted Molly’s perusal of the Colorado criminal statutes. Completely caught up in the sentencing guidelines that may be her mom’s future, she jumped at the sound. Warrant, on the other hand, didn’t even lift his head off the floor where he was sprawled out over an air-conditioning vent. Instead, his tail thumped lazily a few times before he fell back asleep. The dog’s reaction made Molly fairly certain of who was at the door. As she stood up, she swallowed a groan at the feel of her spine popping back into place. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she’d been hunched over her laptop for most of the afternoon. It was no wonder her body was protesting. After peeking through the peephole in the front door, she unlocked it and swung it open. “This is becoming a habit.” “What is?” John slipped past her, striding into the house as if he owned the place. Making a face and pretending that she wasn’t glad to see him, she closed and relocked the door. “You showing up on our doorstep uninvited.” “If you want me to leave, I can take this very valuable information and go.”…

“I was, uh… just, you know, starting a load of laundry.” I caged her in with my arms on either side of her body, my hands pressed against the top of the washer, and leaned down to bring my face closer to hers. “You’re a horrible liar, Tatum,” I practically growled. “You’re even worse at hiding something.” “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “There’s something in here”—I tapped on the lid—“that you don’t want me to see.” “Just clothes. Dirty, smelly, sweaty clothes.” I didn’t bother to fight the smirk as I held her stare, silently calling her bluff. “And socks, too.” Her voice was almost inaudible, felt more in the air that drifted from her lips to my face than heard in the words she’d spoken. “Lots of socks.” I no longer believed she hid lingerie, though I was lost at what it could be. “Then it’s a good thing I walked in when I did, huh? You shouldn’t mix your clothes. You could ruin them if they’re not separated. But don’t worry, I’ll help you sort.” I started to pull away so I could lift the lid and end the charade, but she stopped me by…

California Code of Cupid Regulations (CCR) § 100.01. (a) For purposes of this Act, the term “love” shall mean the sufferance by one person of affection for and attachment to another person or persons for any period, however brief. For more than twenty years, Eliza had been working on a list of things she hated more than Valentine’s Day. And finally, after decades of hard work and dedication, she’d narrowed it to the following: ? ?? ??? Okay, so it was still a work in progress. But to be fair, she had yet to encounter anything she despised as much as the onslaught of pink and red hearts that appeared each February. Not to mention, if your birthday happened to fall on Valentine’s Day, avoiding the slew of cutesy cards and pictures of diapered, armed babies was nearly impossible. And if you were a Descendant of Eros with the misfortune of being born on February fourteenth? Forget it. Everyone everywhere commented on how cute and coincidental it was that a “Cupid” had been born on love’s holiest of holidays. Eliza ducked her head as she made her way through Red Clover. Leaving her apartment always made her anxiety flare, but…

Set in the fictional college town of Deaton, Montana, The Wolf Tone centers around an unlikely friendship between two drastically different women. Margot Fickett is the middle-aged principal cellist for the Deaton Symphony Orchestra. Eva Baker is a twenty-year-old single mother who claims that her three-year-old boy is Margot’s grandson. Convinced of her son’s innocence, Margot insists on a paternity test. Before she complies, Eva leads Margot to her boyfriend’s burgeoning medical marijuana business, the reason she wants her child support money in the first place. Over the course of a tumultuous Montana spring, Margot and Eva witness one another’s difficult, often poorly thought-out decisions. As they approach real disaster, the women begin to see that what they want is not so different.   I hope you enjoy this peek at chapter one! Chapter One Spring took its time. March in Deaton, Montana, was winter’s final exhale. Robins had been spotted and the creeks were beginning to melt, but the surrounding mountain ranges still slumbered under blankets of white. The night of her accident, a new moon held the canyon in complete dark and Margot Fickett couldn’t sleep. Earlier her cello group played at the cider house, seventy minutes of…

She leaned across the table and held his gaze. “I heard they found a murdered body not too far away.” Her voice was appropriately quiet, but fascination burned in her eyes. Alarms rang in Ollie’s head. “Do you know if that’s true?” Tabitha asked. “Or are people making stuff up?” “It’s true,” he admitted. Her eyes widened. “Oh! How scary … Did they catch who did it?” “It happened a long time ago,” Ollie informed her, feeling a little guilty for talking about the dead. “It wasn’t really a body … Just a skeleton was left.” An image of the skull’s bullet hole flashed in his mind. “Do they know who it was? Or how long ago it happened?” She took another bite, her gaze never leaving his as she hung on every word. Melted soft serve dripped on the table. “Well … don’t tell anyone, but they think it’s related to a big robbery that happened in Portland a long time ago.” “You’re not talking about the Gamble-Helmet Heist, are you?” Ollie froze. “How’d you know?” “Everyone knows about it.” She shrugged and looked at her parfait as she scooped up fudge and peanuts. “If it’s related to that,…

NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE Christmas carols played softly in the background. The scent of spiced cider perfumed the air. Shoppers munched happily on gingerbread cookies and perused the bookshelves for that perfect gift. Dr. Jenna Stockton imagined ripping the halo off the angel’s head and choking her with it. Instead, she reached deep within herself for patience and managed to find a smile for the costumed character behind the bookstore counter. “If I could speak with your manager, please?” “She’s awfully busy.” Jenna thought of the ridiculous length of her own to-do list as she fought to keep her smile from turning into a sneer. “Yes, well, it’s that time of year, isn’t it? Your manager?” The little angel gave a haughty sniff, and then said, “If you’ll step out of line, please?” Without missing a beat, the angel turned a bright smile toward the woman waiting behind Jenna. “I’m so sorry for this unfortunate delay, ma’am. I’ll be as quick as I possibly can.” Jenna didn’t snarl like a rabid dog. She didn’t. She smiled at the woman behind her in line. Sweetly. Without canines. The woman and the four people behind her each gave Jenna an annoyed glower. She gave them all…

Elise twisted just in time to catch a muscle at the back of Tate’s jaw twitch. The impact whenever she saw him was always a punch. Sandy-blond hair to his shoulders with a wave to it that made him look like he’d just ambled in from a day at the beach, a full, but well-trimmed beard slightly darker than the rest of his hair that made her wonder what his kiss would feel like and a lean, but muscled body that always crackled with a lethal energy. Dressed in a black T-shirt and faded jeans, he looked like the predator he was, and the way he was holding his body made it appear he was a nanosecond from tackling his primo. Which was insane. He’d barely spoken to her. Barely looked her in the eye since the first day they’d met. But here he was, trading some silent but deadly man-to-man communication she couldn’t translate. Given the amused expressions from Katy, Jade and Sara, she was the only one in need of subtitles. Tate’s nostrils flared, and he edged closer to Alek, shifting as he did to put himself between Alek and Elise. When he spoke, his words came out…