BEFORE YOU GO, a new one-night-stand, accidental pregnancy romance from New York Times Bestselling Author, Aurora Rose Reynolds, is available now!

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Love is only as messy as you make it…

Dayton Calloway and I wouldn’t have gotten together if it weren’t for two pink lines.

After getting divorced, Francisca Dawson is attempting to find out who she is and how she wants her life to look. One thing she knows is that there isn’t room for a man in that equation. But then she meets Dayton Calloway. A man who is charming, funny, and unbelievably gorgeous. Unable to deny their connection, she gets lost in the moment and gives into his dirty mouth and skilled hands.

Actions have consequences.

Dayton knew that he never wanted to get married or have children. His upbringing before he entered foster care showed him that. So he took all precautions to make sure that wasn’t a possibility.

But like they say nothing is ever one hundred percent.

Now, he’s picturing life as a father and coming to terms with the possibility of having everything he never knew he wanted with a woman who is not only taking up space in his life, but that empty space in his chest.

Before you go, do you take a chance and risk it all, or do you just let go and possibly miss out on the most beautiful love you’ve ever known?

That’s what Dayton and Francisca will have to figure out.

Love is only as messy as you make it.

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“A perfect balance of swoon, spice, and emotional depth…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 4.5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Francisca

I sign my name in pink paint on the bottom left corner of my canvas, then set my paintbrush down and step back from my easel, wiping my hands on my paint-covered apron. Each layer of paint on the canvas is like a snapshot of the last six weeks of my life. I can tell what kind of mood I was in each time I picked up my brush to work, pinpointing when I was happy, sad or even bored just by the heaviness of the paint strokes.

Forcing myself to look past the details that will likely go unnoticed by everyone else, I take in the painting as a whole. With raised flower petals in muted pastel colors, along with butterflies and different types of bugs hidden in the greenery as a tiny treat for anyone stopping to take a longer look, it’s beautiful. I just hope that the woman who commissioned the four-foot by six-foot painting for her granddaughter loves it as much as I do.

“What do you think?” I look down at PJ, who is lying at my feet, and he lifts his head off his paws while his tail begins to wag. “I thought you’d say that.” I laugh, squatting down to rub his spotted pink belly when he rolls onto his back.

I jump when the buzzer for my studio sounds. I look over at the clock on the wall and let out a nearly silent curse. Like what often happens when I’m working, I lost track of time. The only good thing about today is that I can’t actually be late, since the meeting I scheduled is happening right here.

Quickly taking off my apron, I toss it toward my rolling chair, then lead PJ to his kennel, and he instantly goes inside to lie down. With him tucked away, I walk across the concrete floor and pull the heavy wooden door inward.

“Hey.” I smile at Phillip, who looks—as he often does—like he’s in a bad mood.

“Francisca.” He dips his chin. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” I step back, giving him room, then close the door behind him. I’ve known Phillip my family’s attorney my whole life, and he’s always been very… well, I guess the only way to describe him is “formal.” The only time I ever see him let his nonexistent hair down is at my parents’ annual Christmas party. One evening a year, he drinks too much eggnog and becomes a whole different person, one who has an actual personality.

“This is where you work?”

“This is it.” I wave my hand out to encompass the entirety of the space as he scans the room.

He’s never been to my studio before; not many people have. The old storage warehouse was built in the late 1800s and was part of a manufacturing company’s property. After they went out of business, it sat empty until an investor swooped in and decided to refurbish it for residential use.

The unit I’m renting is one of the largest, at a little over two thousand square feet, and has an open floor plan that was advertised as a studio apartment with a bathroom and kitchen. Personally, I would not have rented it if I had planned on living here since there is no actual bedroom. The windows at the top of the tall ceilings that let in tons of glorious natural light during the day, unfortunately, let in the same amount of light at night from the streetlamps lining the block. But the location and lighting were perfect when I thought I would only be using the space for work. Then, a few months ago, I ended up moving in here, and getting a good night’s sleep since then has been a rarity. Nevertheless, I’m making the best of it for the time being.

“Have you been staying here?” he asks with his brows knitted tightly when he sees my bed, which is half-hidden behind the stack of moving boxes I haven’t bothered unpacking.

“I have been, yes, but once the condo sells or Matthew buys me out of my half of it, I’ll move.”

“We didn’t add that into the papers you had me draw up.”

“He and I have a verbal agreement.”

“Francisca—”

“It’s fine, Phillip,” I cut him off, and he gives me a disapproving look but doesn’t say more about it. Instead, he tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks and wanders across the room toward the painting I just finished.

“Is this your current project?”

“I actually just finished that one right before you arrived.”

“It’s beautiful. You’re very talented.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly, as the compliment seems to wrap itself around my windpipe.

When I started painting, my parents and husband thought I was wasting my time. They were sure that no one would buy pretty floral paintings. Then I sold my first piece, and my second. Soon after that, I was getting offers for commissioned pieces that cost thousands of dollars and I was able to quit my job to start painting full time. Most days, I feel like I’m living a dream because I am. Painting is something I’ve always loved doing. I just had no idea I would be able to turn it into a lucrative business.

“What time is Matthew set to arrive?”

“Any minute.” I leave him behind and walk toward my small kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?” I look at him over my shoulder as I open the fridge and catch him inspecting the paint-splattered chair he pulled out from the metal table between my work area and the kitchen.

“Water, please.”

“Flat or sparkling?”

“Flat.”

As I’m getting down two glasses from the floating shelf above the sink, the door opens, and I turn just in time to watch Matthew step inside. The fact that he didn’t knock annoys me, but I keep my mouth firmly shut, knowing that if I bring it up, he’ll just claim he forgot and make me feel like I’m overreacting. The reality is, he doesn’t care what I ask of him, which has been a running theme the last five years of our marriage and just one of the many reasons why we’re here today.

“Hey.” The look in his dark-brown eyes is somber, but it’s difficult for me to tell if he’s genuinely sad about what we’re about to do or if it’s just for show. I don’t know when I lost the ability to read him, but at some point, I did.

“Hey.” I force a half-smile before I turn back to the counter, hearing him greet Phillip.

I pour myself and Phillip a glass of water but don’t bother asking Matthew if he’d like one. I refuse to give him a reason to stick around after this is done.

Carrying both glasses to the table, I pass Phillip his water and take a seat across from Matthew, with Phillip seated between us at the head of the table, his briefcase open in front of him. After pulling out a stack of papers and two pens, he closes his briefcase and places it on the floor next to his chair.

“As I discussed with both of you prior to today, you’ll each be leaving this marriage with all your personal assets intact.” He looks at Matthew. “I do, however, understand that you and Francisca have a verbal agreement about the sale of the condo that you and she purchased.”

Of course, he couldn’t let that go and had to bring it up.

“We do,” Matthew murmurs.

With a nod, Phillip takes the top sheet off the stack of papers he has in front of him, then turns the stack my way. “Sign at each tab.” He hands me a pen, and I sign my name next to a pink sticky tab, then sign it again and again until he reaches the bottom of the pile.

When he turns the stack Matthew’s way, I wonder if there is something wrong with me. You’d think after vowing to spend my life with him and tying myself into knots for years as I tried to make it work between us, there would be a tingle of doubt or a twinge of pain as I watch him sign his name on our divorce papers, but all I feel is relief that we can both finally move on.

“That’s it,” Phillip murmurs softly, picking up the stack of papers while looking at me. “Do you want me to make a copy of these for you, or would you just like me to send them to your e-mail?”

“You can e-mail them.” Honestly, what am I going to even do with divorce papers? Frame them and hang them on the wall in my studio as proof that I sucked at being a wife, even though I tried with every single breath I took to make things work and still failed miserably?

“Very well.” He picks up his briefcase and puts the papers back inside it, and I hand him my pen after Matthew passes over his. “Matthew, it was good seeing you.” He stands, and I get up from my chair as well.

“You too, Phillip,” he replies but stays seated, indicating that he plans to stick around after Phillip leaves.

Great.

“Will I see you and Elizabeth tomorrow evening?” I ask as I walk Phillip to the door, and he almost smiles at the mention of his wife.

“We’ll be there. Elizabeth would never miss one of your mother’s parties.”

“I can’t wait to see her.” I adore his wife. She’s flamboyant, funny, and loud to the point of obnoxious. She is also one of the few people who told me that I should chase my dream of becoming an artist—without even knowing if I had any real potential.

Her belief was, if I believed in my talent, then I was talented, and that is something I’ve carried with me every single day since.

Opening the door, I step back to allow him room to leave. “Thank you for coming today.”

“You’re welcome, and I’ll have Tammy get a copy of these papers e-mailed over to you as soon as I file them.”

“Sounds good. Have a good evening.”

“You as well.” He dips his chin and walks out.

Closing the door, I drag in a breath before I turn back around to face Matthew, who is now standing with his hip pressed into the edge of the table and his arms crossed over his chest. I’d like to claim that I don’t still think he’s good-looking, but with dark hair, strong, elegant features, and an ever-present tan thanks to his Italian heritage, there is no denying that he is a very attractive man.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly.

“All right.” I wrap my arms around my middle as he holds my gaze from across the room. “You?”

“Strange.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t think it’s hit me yet that you’re not my wife anymore.”

The possessiveness of the word “wife” grates against my skin. For years, I felt like I was nothing more than a pretty accessory he’d flaunt when the mood struck, then tuck away when he was done showing me off. My value in his life became limited to fancy dinners and rubbing elbows with those he deemed important to his goals. And for a while, I lived off those moments, hoping they’d be enough to get me through, but they never were. “I guess signing those papers didn’t change the fact that I’m still in love with you.”

“Matthew—” I dig my nails into my palm, hoping that he doesn’t do what he’s done dozens of times since I told him that I was leaving him and attempt to talk me into giving him another chance.

“I know I might not have shown it like I was supposed to,” he interrupts, holding up his hands. “But I do love you, which is why I just gave you what you wanted.” Pushing away from the table, he starts walking toward me. “If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.”

Nodding, I hold my breath when he stops in front of me and leans forward to brush his lips across my cheek.

“See you tomorrow evening.”

I don’t reply. The reminder that our connection will never fully be severed washes away any of my earlier relief. He and I will always be in each other’s lives in one way or another. Our families are linked through business and friendships that were established long before either of us were born.

When I hear the door close behind me, I walk over to flip the lock in place, then head across my studio to PJ, who is whining, trying to get my attention. Opening his kennel, I pull him out, and he instantly nuzzles into my neck, like he senses that I’m upset and is trying to comfort me.

I never planned on having an animal of any kind, but two years ago, I walked into a pet shop with my best friend Molly, who was picking up food for her dog, and I saw PJ in a pen in the middle of the store. The moment I laid eyes on him, I couldn’t help but ask if I could hold him, and it wasn’t long after that I was leaving the store with a puppy I had no clue how to take care of.

Matthew instantly hated him, but I was in love, so I didn’t care in the slightest how he felt. Those first couple of months were a learning experience for PJ and me, since he was still very much a baby at that time, but we figured things out, and he’s been my companion and furry best friend ever since. After giving him some love and assuring him that I’m okay, I give him one of his favorite treats that he carries across the apartment to his bed.

Then, with my mind still itching from signing the divorce papers and my interaction with Matthew, I grab a blank canvas from a stack propped up against the wall and let go of my emotions with heavy strokes of my brush and darker colors than I normally use. And even though the painting isn’t one that anyone else will ever see, that night when I finish, I think it might be my favorite creation yet.

About Aurora Rose Reynolds:  

Aurora Rose Reynolds is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author whose wildly popular series include Until, Until Him, Until Her, Underground Kings, Shooting Stars, Fluke My Life and How to Catch an Alpha series.

Her writing career started in an attempt to get the outrageously alpha men who resided in her head to leave her alone and has blossomed into an opportunity to share her stories with readers all over the world.

Connect with Aurora Rose Reynolds:

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IT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA, an all new mistaken identity, one-night-stand who got away, forced proximity, forbidden small town romantic comedy from #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, Lauren Blakely, is coming September 2nd! Check out this cover!

There’s no way we can be more than a summer romance…

I really don’t need a bodyguard―I run a small-town lavender farm, for bee’s sake! But I’m getting one anyway since my identical twin sister just booked the movie role of a lifetime and it’s being shot in my hometown. And guess who my new broody, tattooed protector is? None other than the guy I had a one-night stand with last month.

Correction: he’s the guy with the wicked mouth and heated eyes who ran out on me before the bang without so much as goodbye. And of course he arrives in my tiny hometown where the film is shooting right in the nick of time to save me from the paparazzi at the market. The coffee shop. The dress shop too. I’m trying hard to stay mad after the third time the sexy jerk rescues me.

To top it all off, he’s staying in the cottage at my farm. With me. And there’s only one bed.
Maybe just one night would relieve all this tension? But one night turns into another, and then into sharing hearts and secrets that are best locked up. Especially since he’s leaving and I’m staying, and there’s no way we can be more than a summer romance that ends far too soon.

————————————————————————-

WANT A SNEAK PEEK? Check out this excerpt on Cosmopolitan.com!

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Narrated in duet by Erin Mallon & JF Harding

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About Lauren Blakely:

A #1 New York Times Bestselling, #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling, and #1 Audible Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s sexy, feel-good and witty. Her books have been featured in US Weekly and People. Lauren likes dogs, cake and show tunes and she is the vegetarian at your dinner party.

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SHIELD OF SPARROWS, an all-new enemies-to-lovers, arranged marriage romantsy from Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling Author, Devney Perry, is available now!

What if I refused the role chosen for me? What if I made my own rules?

The gods sent monsters to the five kingdoms to remind mortals they must kneel.

I’ve spent my life kneeling—to their will and to my father’s. As a princess, my only duty is to wear the crown and obey the king.

I was never meant to rule. Never meant to fight. And I was never supposed to be the daughter who sealed an ancient treaty with her own blood.

But that changed the fateful day I stepped into my father’s throne room. The day a legendary monster hunter sailed to our shores. The day a prince ruined my life.

Now I’m crossing treacherous lands beside a warrior who despises me as much as I despise him—bound to a future I didn’t choose and a husband I barely know.

Everyone wants me to be something I’m not—a queen, a spy, a sacrifice.

But what if I refused the role chosen for me? What if I made my own rules? What if there’s power in being underestimated?

And what if—for the first time—I reached for it?

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About Devney Perry:

Devney Perry is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author of over forty romance novels. After working in the technology industry for a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to pursue her passion for writing. She was born and raised in Montana and now lives in Washington with her husband and two sons.

Connect with Devney: 

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JILTED, an all-new wedding meet cute contemporary romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, Vi Keeland, is out now!

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Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?

Weddings. I spend every working minute talking and writing about them, when just the thought of one makes me want to scream. After my fiancé abandoned me at the altar last year, my dream job at Bride magazine has turned into a reoccurring nightmare.

To add insult to injury, the bridezilla at my latest assignment, somehow roped me into filling in for a missing bridesmaid. Of course, I had to get paired with the most gorgeous groomsman. Wilder Hayes is perfect—except when he opens his mouth and we end up bickering all evening. That is, until the coat closet incident.

At least I’ll never have to see him again.  Or so I think… Until I walk into work on Monday and find out Wilder isn’t just a jerk, he’s also my boss’s son.  And I’ll be spending the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.

Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?

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EXCERPT:

“And this is Wilder. Your partner for the ceremony.” She wagged a finger at him. “Be nice.”

He smirked. “I’m always nice, love.”

Ooh . . . Those eyes come with a British accent.

The groomsman, whose name was apparently Wilder, gave me the once-over. His eyes dropped down to take in my dress, then raised to the top of my head, where the fascinator that looked more like mangled horns sat protruding from my skull.

“You had on a different dress earlier. So the accident must’ve happened recently then?”

“Accident?”

He smirked and motioned to the fascinator. “I’m assuming there’s a giant wound under there, since you thought it was a good idea to put that dress on instead.”

“Are you joking?” My hands flew to my hips. “Who insults someone they just met like that?”

“Actually I was.” He grinned. “Joking, I mean.”

“Well, it wasn’t very funny. Do you think I want to be wearing this . . . this . . .” My arms flailed around. “Costume?”

The maître d’ walked over. His eyes flashed down the hall and back. I suspected he was looking for the bride. “Is everything alright over here?” he whispered.

“Fine.”

He gestured to the door. “People are waiting for the ceremony to start. The walls are thin.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”

My eyes slanted to the guy standing next to me, my partner, it seemed. He still wore a shit-eating grin and looked pretty proud of himself. But while I continued to scowl, I took a moment to check out the rest of his face, since I hadn’t been able to move past his eyes earlier. Square jaw, defined cheekbones, flawless tanned skin—I wasn’t sure if Bridezilla made the men get spray tans too, but his coloring was too golden bronze to have come from anything other than genetics. Not to mention, he was tall—a weakness of mine—with broad shoulders and . . . I inhaled. Damn, the fucker smells good, too.

I’d been so busy checking him out, I hadn’t realized he’d watched me do it. When my eyes met his again, he raised a brow. “Like what you see?”

Ugh. Cocky and rude. I plastered on a fake smile. “Yes, what a shame something so pleasant doesn’t come with a matching personality.”

About Vi Keeland:

JILTED, an all-new wedding meet cute contemporary romance from #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, Vi Keeland, is coming May 6, 2025!

Scroll down for an excerpt!

Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?

Weddings. I spend every working minute talking and writing about them, when just the thought of one makes me want to scream. After my fiancé abandoned me at the altar last year, my dream job at Bride magazine has turned into a reoccurring nightmare.

To add insult to injury, the bridezilla at my latest assignment, somehow roped me into filling in for a missing bridesmaid. Of course, I had to get paired with the most gorgeous groomsman. Wilder Hayes is perfect—except when he opens his mouth and we end up bickering all evening. That is, until the coat closet incident.

At least I’ll never have to see him again.  Or so I think… Until I walk into work on Monday and find out Wilder isn’t just a jerk, he’s also my boss’s son.  And I’ll be spending the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.

Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?

PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY NOW!

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Please note: Jilted will be available in Kindle Unlimited

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Please note: All US/CA paperback pre-orders will have gorgeous sprayed edges!

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EXCERPT:

“And this is Wilder. Your partner for the ceremony.” She wagged a finger at him. “Be nice.”

He smirked. “I’m always nice, love.”

Ooh . . . Those eyes come with a British accent.

The groomsman, whose name was apparently Wilder, gave me the once-over. His eyes dropped down to take in my dress, then raised to the top of my head, where the fascinator that looked more like mangled horns sat protruding from my skull.

“You had on a different dress earlier. So the accident must’ve happened recently then?”

“Accident?”

He smirked and motioned to the fascinator. “I’m assuming there’s a giant wound under there, since you thought it was a good idea to put that dress on instead.”

“Are you joking?” My hands flew to my hips. “Who insults someone they just met like that?”

“Actually I was.” He grinned. “Joking, I mean.”

“Well, it wasn’t very funny. Do you think I want to be wearing this . . . this . . .” My arms flailed around. “Costume?”

The maître d’ walked over. His eyes flashed down the hall and back. I suspected he was looking for the bride. “Is everything alright over here?” he whispered.

“Fine.”

He gestured to the door. “People are waiting for the ceremony to start. The walls are thin.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Of course. Sorry.”

My eyes slanted to the guy standing next to me, my partner, it seemed. He still wore a shit-eating grin and looked pretty proud of himself. But while I continued to scowl, I took a moment to check out the rest of his face, since I hadn’t been able to move past his eyes earlier. Square jaw, defined cheekbones, flawless tanned skin—I wasn’t sure if Bridezilla made the men get spray tans too, but his coloring was too golden bronze to have come from anything other than genetics. Not to mention, he was tall—a weakness of mine—with broad shoulders and . . . I inhaled. Damn, the fucker smells good, too.

I’d been so busy checking him out, I hadn’t realized he’d watched me do it. When my eyes met his again, he raised a brow. “Like what you see?”

Ugh. Cocky and rude. I plastered on a fake smile. “Yes, what a shame something so pleasant doesn’t come with a matching personality.”

About Vi Keeland:

PRETTY WILD, a new opposites attract, age-gap, grumpy/sunshine romance from USA Today Bestselling Author, Lacey Black, is coming June 3rd! Check out this cover!

Title:  PRETTY WILD
Series: PINE VILLAGE (#5)
Author:  LACEY BLACK
Genre:  CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Cover Design:  Y’ALL. THAT GRAPHIC
Photo:  LINDEE ROBINSON
Release Date:  JUNE 3, 2025

Ryan

Some might say I’m running away. I prefer to look at it as an extended vacation, from social media, the paparazzi, and my very public life back in Los Angeles.

That’s why I rented a small cabin in the woods in Nowhere, Wisconsin. I needed an escape and time to lick my wounds from a breakup. What I wasn’t expecting was Marcus Wright, the most frustrating man on the face of the planet, to be right next door. Our chemistry is undeniable, and it doesn’t take long to realize a summer fling is just what the doctor ordered.

Our time has a deadline though, and at the end of a month, I’m going back home to Los Angeles. Problem is, despite Marcus’s grumpy demeanor, I’m not sure I want to.

Marcus

My days, and some of my nights, are spent working on vehicles in my shop. Working and living in my hometown of Pine Village is where I’m comfortable, where I belong.

My quiet little world is disrupted the day Ryan Marcotte rolls into town in her high heels and designer clothes. She’s the exact opposite of me, a spoiled rich girl who pushes my buttons like no other. She’s famous, has her own TV show, and is only here for a short time. I’m also wildly attracted to her. I try to fight it, but the pull is too strong. So when she suggests a little no-strings fun, I’m all in.

Unfortunately, our private bubble is popped the moment fans discover her location. All good things must come to an end. I just wasn’t expecting my heart to be so invested.

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About Lacey Black:

USA Today Bestselling Author Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading, writing, and shopping. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and three rowdy chickens.

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THE WOMAN LEFT BEHIND,  an all-new, beautifully-crafted, compelling second-chance, thriller romance and the fourth book in the Misted Pines Series from New York Times bestselling author Kristen Ashley, is available now!

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Sheriff Harry Moran has a broken heart and a stack of case files on his desk that the corrupt sheriff who came before him might have bungled…

There are two dead bodies in Idaho, and the gun used to kill them has been traced back to a sixteen-year-old robbery in Misted Pines.

Sheriff Harry Moran has a broken heart and a stack of case files on his desk that the corrupt sheriff who came before him might have bungled.

Or he may have framed innocent people.

The first case Harry dives into, the woman left behind lives just a block away from his office.

When Lillian Rainier opens the door to the sheriff, Harry, who’s been a dead man walking since his wife died, comes back to life.

As for Lillian, she’s had a crush on Harry for forever, Harry showing at her door, and how he is when he does only makes her fall deeper.

As Harry and his team dive into these suspicious cases, Harry and Lillian have to figure out what to do with all they feel for each other, how hard it hits them, and how deep it goes.

But as a voice from the past becomes a witness in the present, and Harry and his crew dig deeper, they sense something sinister happened years ago.

As they weave together the threads of a cold case, they realize how messy it is.

Worse, the man behind the mess is desperately cleaning it up …

And no one in Misted Pines is safe.

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Start this series of standalone thriller romances with The Girl in the Mist

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“…a tale that’s equal parts steamy, suspenseful, and soul-stirring…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads

Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!

EXCERPT:

Prologue

Gut

Harry

Shitty police work was one of the ugliest stains on society.

This was the thought Sheriff Harry Moran had as he sat in his ergonomic chair behind his desk at the sheriff’s department.

He was staring at the two files in front of him trying to ignore the email that was up on the monitor of his computer.

Those files were two of fifteen stacked on his desk.

Each of those files had one thing in common: the shoddy, lazy or corrupt investigation overseen by Fret County’s last sheriff, Leland Dern.

Dern was the man who came before Harry.

Which meant Harry was the man who had to clean up Dern’s mess.

Due to recent circumstances—the latest being a double murder that wasn’t properly investigated and an innocent man served prison time—a full and exhaustive, time-consuming and resource-heavy audit of every investigation under Dern’s tenure had been done.

There were shambolic cases they’d had no choice but to file away. The police work hadn’t been up to Harry’s expectations of his department, but there was nothing that pointed to an injustice being done.

Now, he and his team had to go back over those fifteen cases and hope what Harry expected—Dern playing favorites, taking bribes, looking the other way or preferring to go hunting rather than working—wouldn’t land them in lawsuits.

He was starting with these two.

He glanced at his monitor and felt his neck muscles tighten, which meant he again looked to the files and refocused.

They were the two cases that intrigued Harry the most, because the woman who had connections with both lived a block away from his department, only a five-minute walk from where he sat right there at his desk.

Lillian Rainier.

He’d lived in the town of Misted Pines his entire life, and because of his job, he knew or knew of a great many people in all of Fret County, and he’d never heard of her. But Dern suspected, and investigated, her parents of a robbery sixteen years ago.

The investigation stalled, because Sonny and Avery Rainier had disappeared. And then, the case had simply died. Nothing else had been done. Not an interview, not a single follow-up of a lead.

A year later, Lillian married Willie Zowkower, a man Harry did know well.

Willie was a low-level gentleman dealer and a high-level charming asshole who currently had three outstanding arrest warrants in Fret County.

Recently, Willie had also disappeared.

And Lillian hadn’t reported her parents, or her husband, missing.

Harry’s gut was telling him something was up with Lillian Rainier.

And what was on Harry’s computer monitor was telling him whatever that was, it was something bad.

So, no. His gut wasn’t telling him anything. It was practically screaming at him to get off his ass, walk to her house and have a word.

Since Harry wasn’t lazy, and he thought of law enforcement not as a job but as a calling, he got off his ass in order to walk to her house and have a word.

It would be a good bet Harry had passed Lillian Rainier’s house thousands of times in his life, and he never noticed it.

Standing outside it now, he wondered why.

A small cracker box painted a pale yellow with white trim, sporting a green roof and a shocking-red door, there were profuse plantings of bronze, butterscotch and yellow button mums in appealing but mismatched terracotta pots dotted up the front steps and all over porch. An attractive fall wreath of leaves, berries and pinecones was on the door. A white picket fence rounded the property, and he could see the numerous rose bushes that likely ornamented that fence in the summer had been cut back in preparation for winter.

There were two Adirondack chairs on the porch. They were painted white and had yellow, brown and green plaid lumbar pillows upstanding against the back of the seats, a wooden table with a lantern resting on top between them.

No kitschy SWEATER WEATHER! Or HAPPY FALL Y’ALL or FALL IN LOVE! signs marred the neat, well-kept property.

As he opened the gate on the fence and stepped foot on her front walk, that feeling in Harry’s gut intensified.

Something was up.

Something was about to happen.

Something big.

He walked up the steps to that bright-red door.

He knocked.

He stood in his uniform and looked through the box of six square-paned windows at the top of the door, when he sensed movement inside.

And then there she was.

She opened the door.

The instant she did, the moment his eyes caught hers, Harry’s chest caved in, and his stomach curled up.

Yeah.

Something was about to happen.

Something big.

And he wasn’t ready for it.

©2025 Kristen Ashley

About Kristen Ashley:

Kristen Ashley is the New York Times bestselling author of over eighty romance novels. She’s a hybrid author, publishing titles both independently and traditionally, her books have been translated in fourteen languages and she’s sold millions of books.

Kristen, born in Gary and raised in Brownsburg, Indiana and was a fourth-generation graduate of Purdue University. Since, she has lived in Denver, the West Country of England, and she now resides in Phoenix. She worked as a charity executive for eighteen years prior to beginning her independent publishing career. She now writes full-time.

Although romance is her genre, the prevailing themes running through all of Kristen’s novels are friendship, family and a strong sisterhood. To this end, and as a way to thank her readers for their support, Kristen has created the Rock Chick Nation, a series of programs that are designed to give back to her readers and promote a strong female community. You can learn more about Kristen and the Rock Chick Nation on her website.

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