Be sure to check the sidebar for all of my current giveaways!
Be sure to check the sidebar for all of my current giveaways!
Happy Release Day!
Seven Hundred Beachfront by Ligia de Wit
Publication date: July 22nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Magical Realism, Romance, Women’s Fiction
Some places hold memories. Others have opinions.
I told myself it was just for the summer. A break. A pause. A way to escape the people I care about but can’t seem to fit with anymore, and the choices I don’t know how to fix.
But the sea doesn’t let you stay distant for long.
Then there’s him. Quiet. Grumpy. Mysterious. The kind of man who doesn’t ask questions, but somehow sees more than he should. I don’t even like talking to him, and yet… here we are. Sharing long silences. Unexpected moments. Maybe even something more.
And as for the house? Let’s just say it has opinions—and it’s not afraid to share them.
Seven Hundred Beachfront is a heartfelt, magical story about learning to stay, letting people in, and discovering that healing doesn’t always come the way you expect it. But when it does, you’ll feel it down to your bones.
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EXCERPT
Carole hadn’t sent a thing to keep him busy, damn woman, and I’d only used the TV for movies. Wait a sec—Jessie left a Star Wars movie at my place, the first one, so I should have it here.
“No Scooby, kiddo,” I said while looking in the boxes, “but you’re gonna like this one. It’s the real thing, not a single goofy character one mile near it.”
“ ’Kay.” He sat on the old, flowery couch and gazed at me, expectant.
“How do you want your fish?” I asked while putting the movie on, realizing I had no idea what Bobby liked.
“Dead.”
I gave a small smile. “But how do you like it prepared? Pan fried?”
“No. Like Mom does it.” He lifted his little arms and mimed putting something in a pan. “Like this.”
“You’re not much help, kiddo. I’ll cook it pan fried.”
“ ’Kay,” Bobby whispered, gaze down.
After leaving him with the movie, I got ready to cook. The stove burners were a little rusty but worked. I prepared pan-fried fish, along with steamed vegetables and wild rice. Maybe I didn’t have many accomplishments in my life, but, damn, I could cook. It had been either that or be resigned to eating frozen dinners.
When other kids watched cartoons, I watched cooking shows. At ten, I prepared chicken cordon-bleu. Even Aunt Marie was impressed. Carole just grimaced. It’s overcooked, she’d said.
The aroma of spices and well-cooked fish filled the space, and any knot in my body vanished.
My cell rang, and I picked it up, frowning at the caller ID. “Hey,” I answered flatly.
“Honey!” Carole’s voice came clear. “Darling, you have no idea what a marvelous flight we had.” She laughed, evidently delighted. “First class. The only way to fly. Don’t you ever dare fly coach again, Beverly.”
“Sure. Will do that next time I fly overseas in, I don’t know, my next life, I guess.”
“Oh, don’t be such a bore! Don’t you want me to spill the tea, girlfriend?”
She giggled. Giggled.
“Are you drunk, Mother?”
She sobered up. Nothing like reminding Carole of the maternity role she’d never wanted.
“Sweetheart, you are such a bore.”
I put her on speaker and placed one of my unopened boxes on the counter while Carole talked nonstop about her marvelous, fantastic flight and the wonderful five-star hotel in Madrid.
My Lladró figurine lay wrapped in newspaper. Carefully, I unwrapped it and placed it on the counter. Crap, one of the fruits had broken off.
“Bobby and I are okay,” I managed to say when she took a small pause. “The house’s too old, though. I don’t know if this is a good place for me.”
The wind moaned, and the noisy branch thumped above.
“You haven’t asked me a thing about Madrid,” Carole complained. “Make sure to check the pictures I posted because they are a-ma-zing. I already have more than one-hundred likes!”
“Thank heavens for the social media gods.”
“Don’t give me that snarky tone of yours. You need more good energy in your life, girlfriend. You need a man.”
“Ugh, please.”
“You do. And not that silly cowboy—”
Ligia de Wit writes fantasy romance adventures with heart, humor, and just the right dose of magic. A lifelong romantic with a soft spot for fairy tales and found family tropes, Ligia writes characters who are strong in more than just a physical sense. Her characters face fears, fight for themselves, and find love in the most unexpected places.
When she’s not writing (or rewriting) her imaginary worlds, she works for a global distribution company and dreams up stories during lunch breaks. You’ll often find her with her nose in a book, exploring a new city, hiking through forests, or acting like a total goof at theme parks. She’s a proud kid at heart—and owns it.
Connect with Ligia
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Be sure to check the sidebar for all of my current giveaways!
Happy Release Day!
From New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs, a wrenching but life-affirming novel based on a true story of survival, friendship, and redemption when six girls come together in a Catholic reform school in 1960s Buffalo, NY. Perfect for fans of Before We Were Yours, Orphan Train, and The Berry Pickers.
It was a place frozen in time, an ancient fortress haunted by echoes that whispered against the gray stone in a mysterious, heavy rhythm, as though this place was entirely separate from the rest of the world. A sign by the inner door read Our Lady of Charity Refuge and Sisters of the Good Shepherd.
Mairin’s breath caught in her throat as comprehension crept over her. This place was the one mentioned in scandalized whispers from the older girls at school. It was the one people gossiped about when a girl suddenly stopped showing up to class. It was the place angry parents—like her own mother—threatened their daughters “I’ll send you to the nuns, just you see if I won’t.”
Amid the turbulence of the Vietnam Era, in the all-American city of Buffalo, New York, teenage girls were condemned to forced labor at the Good Shepherd, a dark and secret institution controlled by the Sisters of Charity nuns.
In 1968 we meet six teens thrust into confinement at the Good Shepherd—merely for being gay, pregnant, or simply unruly.
Mairin— free-spirited daughter of Irish immigrants was committed to keep her safe from her stepfather.
Angela—denounced for her attraction to girls, was sent to the nuns for reform, but instead found herself the victim of a predator.
Helen—the daughter of intellectuals detained in Communist China, saw her “temporary” stay at the Good Shepherd stretch into years.
Odessa—caught up in a police dragnet over a racial incident, found the physical and mental toughness to endure her sentence.
Denise—sentenced for brawling in a foster home, dared to dream of a better life.
Janice—deeply insecure, she couldn’t decide where her loyalty lay—except when it came to her friend Kay, who would never outgrow her childlike dependency.
Sister Bernadette—rescued from a dreadful childhood, she owed her loyalty to the Sisters of Charity even as her conscience weighed on her.
Wayward Girls is a haunting but thrilling tale of hope, solidarity, and the enduring strength of young women who find the courage to break free and find redemption...and justice.
Happy Release Day!
The next riveting summer suspense by the author of The Block Party and One Big Happy Family, Jamie Day.
WILL THIS BE THE BEST WEEK OF THEIR LIVES... OR THE LAST?
Julia, David, and Erika grew up together spending summers at their idyllic Vermont lake homes for as long as they can remember. Now adults— with their own sullen teens, endless mortgages, and low-voltage sex lives— the three friends have amassed secrets over the years.
This summer, David is eager to show off his newly renovated home—which now blocks his friends’ cherished lake views—and his much-younger girlfriend. He also, unwittingly, brings a nanny with a hidden agenda. What could possibly go wrong?
When David’s girlfriend mysteriously vanishes after a shouting match, Julia and Erika wonder just how well they know their lifelong friend. The lake harbors a harrowing two young women, with no known connection, vanished without a trace thirty years ago. Did the lake take another?
As a search is mounted, an intricate web of lies, deceits, and betrayals spanning generations starts to surface, and everyone finds themselves in danger of becoming the next victim. Of the lake, or something darker.
Running Hott by Serena Bell
(Hott Springs Eternal, #4)
Publication date: July 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
A jilted bride. A jaded divorce lawyer. A full tank of gas. What could go wrong?
Rhys: As a cutthroat New York City divorce lawyer, it’s my job to end marriages. Lifetime commitment? It’s for the birds. I do everything in my power to avoid it…until my grandfather’s will says that to save our family’s land, I have to become a wedding planner.
Worse, my first client is Eden Becker. She’s the sunshine-y disaster whose ex-husband I represented a few years ago in their divorce. Eden’s first marriage was a nightmare, so why does she think another one is a good idea?
Turns out, I’m not wrong. Her jerkwad fiancé jilts her, and as her wedding planner, I’m also her getaway vehicle. Now we’re on the road together—and all my complicated feelings about this beautiful, naive optimist are in the car, too. Along with a wild attraction I’ve been fighting since we first faced off across a conference table.
If this road trip goes on too much longer, I’m going to do something I’ll regret forever.
Like fall in love.
A spicy, grumpy-sunshine, jilted bride, enemies to lovers, standalone road trip romantic comedy set in the beloved small town of Rush Creek.
Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble
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EXCERPT
I reach for the sound system.
His hand snakes in and blocks mine. “Driver controls the radio.”
“No, dude. Everyone knows the passenger controls the radio. Besides, if you won’t let me drive at all, that’s not fair. I had to listen to ninety-seven minutes of your dirge list and way too much sports ball. We need a mood change.”
I cue up my playlist and set it on shuffle. “What I’ve Been Looking For” from High School Musical comes on. Rhys groans.
“What?” I demand.
“This is from a kid’s movie.”
“Which you must have seen, if you know that.”
“It was one of Hanna’s favorites. We watched it a thousand times. Which was a thousand times too many.”
“What I’ve Been Looking For” is followed by “Surface Pressure” and “All You Wanna Do,” and Rhys says, “Please tell me this isn’t all from musicals and Disney movies.”
“This isn’t all from musicals and Disney movies,” I say as Taylor Swift’s “You Belong with Me” fills the car.
Rhys’s jaw ticks. His eyes roll. His shoulders twitch.
“What’s wrong with this one?” I demand.
He heaves a long-suffering sigh. “He obviously doesn’t belong with her. Let’s look at the facts: She’s clearly not his type. He wants someone who wears short skirts and high heels, and she’s not comfortable in those clothes. If she keeps trying to convince him he belongs with her, they’re both going to end up miserable.”
I stare at his way-too-good-looking profile in the dimly lit car, agog. “Are you serious?”
“Would you argue with anything I’ve said?”
“It’s a friends-to-lovers song!” I cry. “They’re obviously going to end up together and be super happy. Because she sees him! And understands him. He’s happy when he’s with her, and that isn’t true with the short-skirts-and-high-heels girl.”
“I thought you were swearing off love and marriage.”
“Just because I’m personally swearing off love and marriage doesn’t mean I wish ill on other people who have found their perfect matches.”
“This,” he says. “This is why so many marriages end in divorce. Because we hear what we want to hear. And two people can hear the same song and find completely different meaning in it. Imagine if you were with a guy and this was your song, and every time you heard it you thought about how cool it was that he’d finally seen you for the awesome bleachers girl you are, and he thought about his ex-girlfriend and her short skirts and high heels and how he wished you’d get some personal style.”
“Grim!”
“Realistic,” he corrects.
One of his hands leaves the wheel. Settles briefly near his knee. Creeps into my Cool Ranch Doritos bag.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“Stress eating,” he says. “Your playlist has driven me to it.”
I do everything in my power not to crack a smile. “You don’t eat junk food,” I point out.
“That was before I realized that despite being divorced by a sociopath and jilted by a personality potato, you still believe in true love.”
I can’t help it; I snort at personality potato. “I’m the one who has the stress. I’m the one who got jilted. And if I’d known I was going to have to share my precious Cool Ranch, I would have gotten a bigger bag.”
I sneak a peek at him. He’s definitely trying not to laugh. And unfortunately, it looks good on him. I let him have the Doritos.
“God, these are disgustingly tasty,” he says.
“Right?”
We’re both quiet for a moment, worshipping at the altar of fake food. He quietly licks Cool Ranch flavor off his fingers, and I absolutely, one hundred percent, do not wonder how his tongue feels licking up the inside of his finger and across the tip of his thumb. How it would feel rasping over my own fingertips, drawn into the heat of his mouth.
Oh, hell.
I’ve tumbled into a sexual fantasy about a man who disassembled me like a kid’s discarded playset.
We make our way through Maroon 5’s “Memories” (“Memories of how I cribbed this entire song from Pachelbel’s Canon,” Rhys says grumpily), past Lake Street Dive’s “Hypotheticals” (“Now this is actually a great song; you’re one for, what, a hundred?”) to “Try Everything.”
“That’s shitty advice,” he says. “‘Try everything.’ I mean, no. There are a lot of things that are straight-up bad ideas. Bull-riding. Free solo climbing. Base jumping. Heli-skiing. Recreational fentanyl.”
“She doesn’t mean literally everything,” I say.
“See?” he says. “And there we have it. Two people, same song, totally different interpretations.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t see how that’s somehow a refutation of marriage. You’re so—”
“Pessimistic? Cynical? Misanthropic?”
“All of the above. You ready to tell me what childhood wound made you this way?” I ask, half-teasing…half…not.
He shrugs.
“Yes, Eden,” I say, pitching my voice low to roughly imitate his. “Since we have another five and a half uninterrupted hours of being stuck in this car together with absolutely nothing else to do, I would love to tell you all about my childhood.”
USA Today bestselling author Serena Bell writes contemporary romance with heat, heart, and humor. A former journalist, Serena has always believed that everyone has an amazing story to tell if you listen carefully, and you can often find her scribbling in her tiny garret office, mainlining chocolate and bringing to life the tales in her head.
Serena’s books have earned many honors, including an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, Apple Books Best Book of the Month, and Amazon Best Book of the Year for Romance.
When not writing, Serena loves to spend time with her college-sweetheart husband and two hilarious kiddos—all of whom are incredibly tolerant not just of Serena’s imaginary friends but also of how often she changes her hobbies and how passionately she embraces the new ones. These days, it’s stand-up paddle boarding, board-gaming, meditation, and long walks with good friends.
Connect with Serena
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