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 Stephenia H. McGee!   Writes: Hi y’all! I write wholesome historical romance set in charming Southern towns featuring feisty heroines and valiant heroes. My latest novel, THE SWINDLER’S DAUGHTER, is a 1912 romance about a woman who discovers her mother isn’t actually a widow, her estranged father just died in jail, and she’s become one rather unusual heiress. When she lands in a backwoods Georgia town to sort out the mess, she immediately collides with a stalwart cowboy who seems dead set on foiling her plans.   About: I’m a Southern gal from Mississippi, where I spend my days researching history, scribbling away at stories, and sipping sweet tea. I love all things books, am a sucker for a happily-ever-after and can usually be found posting pictures about my dog on Instagram.   What I’m looking for in my ideal reader match: I’m looking to match up with readers who: Enjoy wholesome hometown Southern charm Love feisty heroines who aren’t afraid to face challenges…

How had she let herself bet everything on him? She didn’t know him. Not really. Never mind that something about him coiled her insides into knots, drawing her to his steady presence with a pull she couldn’t define. Betting her entire life on a feeling had been reckless. Stupid. The morning air hung heavy with moisture and the smells she’d loved her entire life. Fresh grass, dew-laden air, horses. The reins grew slick in her hand and she had to squeeze her eyes shut a moment. Amos’s promises were a rusty bucket. Not holding anything for long. Yet somehow he’d weighted everything in his favor, and the scales tipped all the way to his side. Arrow could save the farm, she felt that deep in her marrow. She really could bet her future on him. Silas, on the other hand . . . Nora huffed. What had she been thinking? The dull ache residing in her chest intensified, bringing barbs that cut into her heart. She’d been thinking he cared for her. Perhaps loved her, as she did him. Nora thrust her foot back into the stirrup and swung her leg over the saddle. Maybe Mother had been right all along. Emotions…