Title: The Promises We Keep (Made For Love, #1)
Author: R.C. Martin
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: April 1, 2015
The promises you keep reveal who you are and define who you want to be…
With senior year of college just a breath away, Beckham and Grayson, brothers by fate, battle against their fears and surrender to their hearts’ bidding—consequences be damned; while Addison and Avery, sisters by blood, learn that in romance, all you need is love—except for when life is way more complicated than that.
Written in each of their perspectives, The Promises We Keep tells the story of a couple joined together and another split apart. As they make plans in preparation for life after college in the Òreal world,Ó they are each challenged with the reality that love can conquer all; but only if they choose to let it, which is never as easy as it sounds.
I hop up onto the counter and watch Addie as she moves about the kitchen preparing our coffee. My sister takes care of me like no one else can. We call each other my other half for a reason—I tell people all the time that she is proof that God loves me. WeÕve been close always. Of course, weÕve had our disagreements and our fights, but weÕre more than sisters and weÕre more than friends. IÕm convinced that sharing a womb with someone links them to you in a way that simply cannot be understood by anyone who isnÕt a twin.
Sarah belts out a particularly shrill ÒnoteÓ and, this time, I canÕt help but laugh. IÕm so tickled I have to hold onto the counter to keep myself from falling off. Addie met Sarah freshman year. They both have plans to teach elementary school, so they met by way of a handful of shared classes. Sarah is easy to like and a blast to live with, aside from her lack of musical skill; and while she canÕt hold a tune to save her life, Addie has a beautiful voice. SheÕs been singing at our church going on two years, now. Mom always calls her Addie Jane, her little songbird.
ÒCanÕt blame her for trying,Ó says Addie. ÒHer lack of shame is actually sort of endearing, donÕt you think?Ó
I raise my eyebrows at my sister in question. ÒOne day, when she meets the love of her life and she gets married, I want you to ask him that.Ó She flashes me a goofy smile, implying her sympathy for SarahÕs future beau. ÒSpeaking of the love of oneÕs life, what time are the guys supposed to be here, again?Ó
ÒTen,Ó she answers, filling up my mug, complete with a spoonful of sugar and a splash of nonfat milk. She pours herself a cup as well. By the time sheÕs doctored it, her caramel creamer makes her coffee barely recognizable as such; itÕs the color of our complexion when sheÕs done. ÒThat is, if Beck doesnÕt over sleep,Ó she tacks on as an afterthought.
The guys consist of Beckham, Jackson, and Grayson.
Beckham—or Hammy, to me—is AddieÕs sweetheart. TheyÕve been madly in love since we were sixteen. I have not a single doubt in my mind that they will get married one day. I know if it were up to Addie, heÕd propose this summer and they would be married before he heads off to medical school—but even if that doesnÕt happen, theyÕre destined to be together.
Jackson is also the sweetheart to a special someone. HeÕll be coming with his girlfriend Claire. She spends most weekends downstairs, even though sheÕs got her own place a few blocks away. WeÕre quite used to having her around and we like her a great deal. We consider her an honorary roomie.
And then thereÕs Grayson. Well, I call him Sonny.
He strolled into my life about the same time that Sarah did. He was introduced to us through Beckham. They were paired together as roommates in the dorms freshman year and theyÕve been best friends ever since. To say that I was instantly attracted to him would be one hundred percent true. It surprised me at first, because I didnÕt think that someone like him was my type, but I couldnÕt argue against the evidence of my attraction—which manifested itself by way of my stomachÕs somersaults every time I saw him. But IÕve never been that girl who falls for the hot jock. IÕm a nerd; total band geek and completely unashamed. As for SonnyÉhot jock describes him accurately, as he is a distractingly handsome football player. A couple years ago, football was so far off my radar I couldnÕt even tell you what the role of the quarterback was—so Hot Jock was just nice to look at.
But then I got to know him.
I guess I should have known, if he was able to get along with Hammy so well, he had to be more than just his good looks. The tight knit group that started off as Addie, Hammy and me grew to include Sarah and need Sonny. While heÕs a wonderful sportsman and great team leader, heÕs also just a really good guy. Even still, it took about a year of friendship, and Addie and SarahÕs incessant goading, before I was willing to admit that, yeah, I like him a lot.
He, on the other hand, does not feel the same way about me. I know this to be a fact, as he has never even hinted to thinking of me as more than a friend. Seriously, if I made a list of all the things that we do that ensures me that IÕve been delicately stored in the friend zone, I could fill a book. For about the last nine months, Addie and Sarah have been trying to convince me otherwise, but neither of them have been able to give me a good reason as to why heÕs never asked me out—so I rest my case.
Besides, heÕs way too popular.
Who knew that word would follow my social life outside of the halls of high school? ÒHey, Twinkies!Ó greets Sarah, strolling into the kitchen.
Her long blonde locks are wet and sheÕs wrapped in only a towel. Neither Addie, nor I, bat an eyelash at her lack of clothing. SheÕs easily a half a foot taller than us and sheÕs shaped like a greek goddess—voluptuous with a small waist and a bust size at least two times the size of mine—which, I suppose, makes her about average, if IÕm being honest. SheÕs got piercing blue eyes and milky skin and I decided a long time ago that if she wanted to walk around in her underwear, all the power to her. She has a body worthy of admiration.
ÒMorning, Baker Babe,Ó says Addie. ÒThanks for the wake-up tunes.Ó
Sarah throws her head back in laughter. ÒSorry. IÕll make it up to you,Ó she promises. ÒIÕve got blueberries, chocolate chips, and strawberries in the fridge—all of which go quite nicely with pancakes.Ó
ÒMmm. YouÕre forgiven.Ó
ÒAnd now that I say that, I realize I really should get a move on. Just wanted you to know the showerÕs free.Ó
ÒMe first!Ó I cry, jumping from the counter. I donÕt miss the amused glances that pass between the two of them as I make my exit. I ignore them both, sipping at the warm nectar in my mug as I go.
Forty-five minutes later, IÕm standing in front of my closet, fretting over what to wear. Yes, IÕm aware that I probably spent too much time blowdrying my hair—I so would have curled it if I had the time. Yes, IÕm aware that I only have about fifteen minutes to decide on an outfit, dress, and throw myself back on the couch so that it looks like I didnÕt agonize over my appearance this morning. Yes, IÕm even aware that all IÕm getting dressed for is breakfast with some of our closest friends—but when I know that IÕll be seeing SonnyÉ
ÒAJ!Ó I call out as I hurry my way into her room. SheÕs sitting in the middle of the floor, leisurely blowdrying her own wet mane.
ÒWhat do you need?Ó she asks as she pauses.
ÒI need to borrow something,Ó I answer, sweeping my hands in such a way to signal my current lack of clothing.
She turns the hairdryer back on and speaks loudly over the hum. ÒYou know heÕd notice you if you were wearing a paper bag, right?Ó
I tilt my head to the side, agitated that sheÕs jumped to the conclusion that IÕm trying to dress to impress. I am—but we certainly donÕt need to talk about it. ÒExcuse me, anyone would notice me if I was dressed in a paper bag! IÕd look ridiculous.Ó She arches and eyebrow at me in response. ÒI just havenÕt done laundry yet. I donÕt have enough options. This is not about Grayson.Ó The second before I yell out his name, she turns off the hairdryer. I canÕt help the blush that colors my cheeks.
ÒDid I hear someone mention Grayson?Ó asks Sarah as she races her way into the room. SheÕs wrapped in her pink apron, which covers a pair of shorts and a tank top. I notice Addie has on shorts, too, only with a long sleeved t-shirt.
ÒShe needs help picking something to wear.Ó
ÒWhatÕs wrong with what youÕve got on?Ó Sarah teases. I look down at my bra and cotton shorts and then back at her. She snorts as she makes her way to AddieÕs closet. ÒYou know heÕd notice you no matter what you wore, right?Ó
ÒIÕm not trying to dress up for him, you know?Ó I lie, folding my arms across my chest.
ÒOh, sweetie,Ó Sarah murmurs as she presses a kiss on the top of my head, Òdenying your feelings wonÕt make them go away.Ó I narrow my eyes at her and she offers me a smirk. ÒHe—Ó
ÒIsnÕt interested,Ó I interrupt, finishing her sentence for her.
ÒHere we go again,Ó Addie says as she stands.
Sarah grins at her from over her shoulder before returning to her task, decisively reaching for items of clothing. ÒMy argument that he is interested still trumps yours. Shall we go over the list again?Ó She pauses as if to wait for an answer, but before I can speak, sheÕs yanking off my shorts and encouraging me into pair of distressed jeans, complete with holes in each knee. ÒHe always walks you to our front door after you guys hang out—even if you were just downstairs.Ó
ÒThatÕs just him being a gentleman. All of us get escorted home—by him or Hammy.Ó
I’ve seen him carrying your cello more than once,Ó pipes in Addie, ignoring my rebuttal. I forget to make my counter argument as Im temporarily distracted by the fact that Sarah’s dressing me—and I’m actually letting her. And the kicker, she says, tugging a spaghetti strap tank over my chest, is that he’s been to three of your orchestra concerts.
First of all, everyone came to my last one—even Jack and Claire,Ó I mutter, finding my words once more. Second, he was just being supportive. I go to his football games.
Yeah. Because you like him,Ó argues Addie.
ÒAnd he practically stamped I like you back on his forehead at your concert, says Sarah, plucking a thin, loose knit, sweater from a hanger. He wore slacks and a collared shirt,Ó she insists, pulling the garment in her hands over my head. He dressed up for you, she adds, as if her previous statement needs clarification. She sweeps my hair out from underneath the collar and it falls down my back. He’s shy, she explains.
No—see, that is the biggest hole in your entire argument. He’s the star quarterback! He’s one of the most well known people on campus—where thousands upon thousands of people attend school—he is not shy,Ó I say with a laugh.
You look adorable, Ave, says my sister, guiding me toward her full length mirror. How could he not be shy around you?
A knock sounds at the door and, for a moment, we all fall silent. They’re early, I announce.
Go let them in, says Addie. I just need a couple more minutes to finish drying my hair.
And I have to get back in the kitchen. Besides, we all know who Gray would prefer to open that door.Ó
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Title: Heartwood(Carved Hearts #3)
Authors: L.G. Pace III & Michelle Pace
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 9, 2015
Covere Design: Wicked By Design
“When we were kids, my cousins planned for their weddings like they were coronations. Sleepovers revolved around notebooks stuffed with clippings from bridal magazines and elaborate plans scrawled in purple ink. Horse drawn carriages, twenty tiered cakes, groomsmen in tails, and scads of bridesmaids, none of whom were nearly as pretty as the bride. Me? I’d just yawn and wander off to the backyard and play fetch with their dog. I never cared about any of that crap, at least not until I met Joe.”
With her wedding rapidly approaching, Molly’s days consist of herding Joe off to tux fittings and diaper changings times two. She misses life on the food truck, but she isn’t quite ready to leave the twins. Planning for every detail to be as perfect as her groom, she hopes her instincts are wrong that it’s all too good to be true.
Knowing Molly like he does, Joe can plainly see that his girl needs to decompress. She’s as stubborn as always, and talking her into a honeymoon without the babies proves easier said than done. Molly’s on edge about every little thing, from the nosey next door neighbor to cars speeding down their quiet street. While Joe revels in their otherwise blissful existence, he worries that Molly’s paranoia may be a symptom of something bigger.
Come back to Austin one last time for the wedding of Molly Elizabeth Hildebrandt and Joseph Samuel Jensen. Raise a glass in celebration alongside their family and closest friends. Wave goodbye as they ride off into the sunset toward a dark fork in the road that could destroy their happily ever after. Will they finally get their fairytale ending? Find out in Heartwood, the explosive conclusion to the Carved Hearts series.
I was blocks away from the restaurant when traffic came to a crawl. Anxiously tapping the steering wheel, I finally passed the scene of the accident which had tied up both lanes. It seemed some tourist had slammed their Winnebago into a Smart Car, and Austin’s rubberneckers needed an eyeful. The gridlock continued, and growing ever more frustrated, I pulled out my phone and texted my date.
Traffic. I’m a mile away.
She didn’t respond. I was about to call her, when my phone chimed.
I glanced down at the picture message. No accompanying words, but I didn’t need any. The top of her garter belt jutted out from her skirt. It was visibly pinned to black stockings. I licked my lips, ready to park and sprint the remaining blocks to the restaurant. Taking a deep breath, I soldiered on.
When I finally entered Bess Bistro, I scanned the place eagerly. It didn’t take me long to find her in the dimly lit restaurant. She sat at the bar facing away from me sipping a martini. I watched as she placed her glass carefully on the surface in front of her. Her upswept hair accentuated her long, lovely neck which begged to be tasted. Seeing those stockings in the flesh made my temperature rise, and the way her midnight blue dress hugged her heart-shaped ass had me salivating.
Some old dude with greying temples and a droopy porn mustache was giving her the full court press. He was turned sideways on his stool, leaning into her personal space and talking to her cleavage. She nodded politely in response to whatever nonsense he was spewing, as his lustful eyes continued to violate every inch of her exposed skin.
A couple of years back, I might have punched him right in the ‘stache, but this was the new and improved me. The guy that didn’t fly into jealous rages or break irritating people into itty bitty bits. However, when he reached out and stroked her dangling earring, ‘Old Joe’ reared his ugly head. I was tempted to rip him off of his stool and toss him out the front door by the seat of his Depends. Instead, I took a moment and another deep breath. I had kids to think about now. Everything I did (or didn’t do) set an example for them. True, they were far too little to know what I might do here, but their blabbermouth aunts would be more than happy to fill them in later in life. As I stood contemplating the pros and cons of my next action, a far more civilized strategy occurred to me. I felt a devilish grin bloom on my face and I sauntered to the bar.
I slid onto the empty barstool next to her. Reaching out, I picked up her drink and took a sip. “Is this martini dirty?”
“Well if it wasn’t before, it certainly is now.” Her stunning eyes took in my tailored suit, and the corners of her mouth curled coyly as she reached out and reclaimed her drink from me. Her full sleeve of tattoos somehow meshed perfectly with the silky dark material she wore. She was dazzling, and I was glad I’d decided to wear her favorite tie.
“What’s a woman like you doing sitting at a bar alone?” My greedy eyes devoured her plunging neckline and her glossy, full lips. She giggled quietly, and the way her fingertips trailed along the stem of her glass made me heady with anticipation. Mustache Rides shot me a dirty look and turned reluctantly back to his scotch.
“Waiting on my fiancé.” She looked up at me from under her sultry lashes.
“He made you wait?” I asked. She nodded, and the bartender who’d been hovering nearby approached. “Johnnie Blue. Make it a double.”
“He’s a busy man.” Molly sighed dramatically, lifting her speared olives to her lips. She tugged one off showily with her teeth, her eyes fixed on mine.
Oh…it was definitely on now.
“He’s a fool,” I shot back.
The bartender barely stifled a chuckle as he poured my whiskey. It was clear he thought I was trying to pick her up, and of course, I was. Though we owned a house and had children together, and it was my ring on that pretty finger of hers, these facts were all irrelevant.
Tonight Molly planned to make me work for it.
She glanced at the bartender, and then back at me. She was well aware we had an audience. Her amusement was thinly veiled, but she kept a straight face and stayed in character.
“How late is he?” I continued, my voice sounding wanton and thick.
“Very.” Her decisive response reeked of promiscuity and I could feel the bartender assessing us curiously.
“I can keep you company while you wait if you like.” I leaned my elbows onto the bar and looked her over casually. She turned toward me and crossed her long legs. She was purposely drawing my attention to one of her best features, and I allowed my eyes to drop. My gaze trailed from the black straps at her ankles all the way up to her risqué hemline that ended far above the knee.
“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll let you buy me dinner.” With that, she downed the last swallow of her martini. With a wicked smile, I turned back to the bartender who shook his head in blatant admiration.
“Oh, she definitely needs another one of those.” I stated. Mustache Man muttered something and abandoned his drink on the bar. The bartender glanced at Molly, and the gentle curl of her lips made him blush so profusely that his bald head looked sunburnt.
L.G.Pace III has spent several decades pouring creative energy into other things besides writing. He began his current journey by telling his two daughters bedtime stories about a magical realm and a hero named Terel. Though that story is still sitting unfinished in the electronic universe he has managed to bring two other stories out of the dark maelstrom of his mind for others to enjoy.
He dwells in the great state of Texas with his wife, novelist Michelle Pace and their children.
Michelle Pace lives in north Texas with her husband, Les, who is also a novelist. An Iowan native, she is the mother of two lovely daughters, Holly and Bridgette, and one uber-charismatic son, Kai. A former singer and actress, Michelle has always enjoyed entertaining people and is excited to continue to do so as a writer.
Other titles by Michelle Pace
Fury (Sound Wave Series #1)
Rage (Sound Wave Series #2)
The Perpetual Quest for the Perfect Life (Jefferson Point #1)
Something’s Come Up
Buy The Carved Hearts Series
She leans toward me, closing the small gap between us and brushes her painted lips against my cheek. “And you look exactly like what I’ve been needing, Jack.”
She’s aggressive. And she smells good enough to eat. The blonde hair that is on my list of requirements is perfectly styled. Long, sexy, and outlining her full breasts that are the centerpiece of her tight black dress. Elegant, yet still provocative enough to make my slacks tighten.
“I ordered some appetizers in case you were ravenous,” she says, purring the word ravenous and letting me know I can eat anything I want. Anything.
I glance at the table. As if I could miss the three, silver domed-covered plates awaiting my arrival. I despise it when people try too hard.
“Thanks. But, I’m not. Not for food anyway.”
Stella groans lightly and rolls over. I’ve been watching her from my desk for half an hour, trying not to wake her. But as soon as she realizes my side of the bed is empty, she sits up dazed. Her head turns toward the bathroom and then turns to me.
“What are you doing?” she asks sleepily.
“Working a bit.”
“What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
“Why the hell are you up? Do you ever sleep?” She falls back onto my bed and the sheets slip down her naked body.
I jump to my feet and make my way to her side of the bed in a second. “Yeah, I slept, then I worked out, showered, and decided to work until you woke up.”
“You worked out? Showered? What the hell is wrong with you? I thought we weren’t going anywhere this morning.”
She throws an arm over her eyes and I take the opportunity to kiss the skin up to her elbow, then pull her arm down so she has no choice but to look at me.
“I didn’t go anywhere. I have a home gym down the hall. I showered because I was gross, and we are staying here this morning. We have a meeting at ten, but until then, it’s us.”
“You have a home gym? Where?”
“Yeah, babe, there’s about two thousand square feet you’ve not seen yet. Two more rooms and a gym.”
“Babe, you’ve only been here a few times, I haven’t had time to show you.”
“This is a whole lot of information for me this early, without coffee. Remember I’m not a morning person.”
“So you keep saying, but I love proving you wrong.” I kiss her softly and slide my hand under the sheets and down until it reaches her pelvic bone.
My fingertips run lightly back and forth from hipbone to hipbone until her breath catches. Every time I hear that small sound, I know she’s getting turned on. Then my hand slinks lower to her slick heat and I press one finger in, sliding her wetness back and forth. “You are the best morning person I know.”
“That’s because you give me orgasms before my coffee.”
Other times it is in the things we see inside,
Then there are times it is bothColby Carter comes from a traditional country life, one that dates back for generations. He put that behind him by attending an out of state college. He came back and his parents gifted to him their large farm and estate. Overwhelmed by the responsibility and knowing he can’t possibly keep up with the farm and the enormous house alone, he places an online ad to hire help. He has no time for women. He got his fill in college, acting the playboy that is now in his past. However, that doesn’t stop the women in town from trying to get his attention, but he knows they are only after two things: his hot and sexy body, and his wealth.
Shiloh Willson responds to an online ad to work for a man, cleaning and caring for his house. She finds it’s a perfect escape from the mess her life has become and a faraway place she hopes no one will find her. She can’t believe her eyes when she arrives at the large house, but what really surprises her is the hot and sexy man that hired her. Has she taken on too much? Will this be the perfect place to hide or will she have to run again?
*This book is intended for 18+ readers.
Intoxicate, Book # 4 in the Explosive Series
Can be read as a standalone
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Day: January 29, 2015
Two words Kalli Montgomery never expected to say out loud to Xavier Cruz, even though she’s been in love with the sexy, single father for as long as she can remember. Unfortunately, she hasn’t just been friend-zoned for the past ten years. No, even worse, he’s treated her like a little sister, no matter how hard she tried to prove she could be so much more. When she agrees to spend the summer as the caregiver for his daughter, Lily, she knows it’s her last chance to finally make him take notice.
As unexpected circumstances threaten to disrupt his home life, Xavier’s desperate to keep his family together. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if it means marrying a woman he doesn’t love. For Xavier and Lily, Kalli will do just about anything, even at the risk of getting her heart broken in the process.
Little does she know, sometimes love isn’t quite as unrequited as one may think. Xavier sees her-he always has. And the vow he made all those years ago never to go there with his best friend’s little sister is wavering, and it’s wavering fast. When they come up with a plan that leads to wedding bells, it’s a no brainer.
This marriage of convenience has one rule: absolutely no falling in love.
Easier said than done. Throw together a girl who believes rules are meant to be broken, and a man whose whole career revolves around following orders and you get a recipe for disaster. What could possibly go wrong?
Shooting a glare at him, I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Are you telling me that this whole anticipation thing is one-sided? Is it that easy for you to resist? I really need to step up my game.”
Xavier’s eyes fall to my lips for a quick moment before he looks back up at me. I see the desire in his expression, and without him even saying a word, I know he wants this, too. So why is he making me wait?
“You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now. How many times I’ve thought of doing just that. Every time you were curled up against me on the couch, I wanted to kiss you. Every morning when you showed up, I wanted to kiss you. Every time you said goodnight to Lily and then slipped out my door? I wanted to kiss you before you left. It’s not a new development. The first time I ever saw you, Kalli, I wanted to kiss you. And I’ve wanted to ever since.”
His admission floors me. He’s told me before that he “saw” me, but I had no clue it was from the very beginning. I’m not really sure how to process it. In fact, he beats me to the punch.
“So now you know. This will be just as hard for me, but it will be so damn worth it. Because when you’ve wanted something for as long as I’ve wanted you? It’ll be the best feeling in the world when I finally get it.”
“Our first kiss will be that epic?”
“A first kiss to rival them all,” he quips, grinning at me. He holds his arms out wide. “Now, we’ll start with a hug and work our way up.”
“I feel like I’m sixteen again,” I tell him as I wrap my arms around his waist.
His hands come down to my back and he gives me a big squeeze, my head pressing against his firm chest. I love this feeling of being in his arms, him holding me close. There’s nowhere on the planet I’d rather be than right here with him. As much as I want him, I know he’s right. I don’t care when it comes. Because when it does, our first kiss will be unforgettable.
His chest rumbles as he chuckles. He squeezes me tight one last time before letting me go. “And it’s only just the beginning,” he tells me. “Have a good night, crazy girl.”
I’m a twenty something book junkie who is also obsessed with sports. Bengals, Buckeyes, Reds are my teams! I work for the government during the day, hang out with Air National Guard on the weekends, and have been married to my own book boyfriend for over seven years. We currently live right outside of Dayton, OH with our two cats.
If I’m not writing or looking through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find me curled up with my Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world. I love my sports almost as much as I love my books. My other obsessions include red wine, hot men, country music, and all things Grace Potter.
Title: Breaking Braydon
Author: M.K. Harkins
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 24, 2015.
Playboy billionaire Braydon Decker changes women more often than designer ties. Scarred and humiliated as a teenager, he pledged long ago to never trust a beautiful woman again. But then he never imagined meeting one quite like Jain Parker.
Jain, a dedicated medical research scientist, learned early in college that her good looks were a hindrance and she’d have to tone down her beauty to be taken seriously, thus, Plain Jain was born, and men were no longer an issue. Of course, she didn’t count on running into Braydon Decker.
A successful venture capitalist, Braydon holds the key to whether Jain’s research company sinks or swims. When the two are forced to work together on a fundraising campaign, they’re instantly drawn to one another, despite their individual vows to remain unattached. As they navigate unchartered waters, their inability to trust wages war with their desire to love.
Hearts are broken and trust is shattered when betrayal and lies are revealed. Will the truth bring them healing and forgiveness, or will it be too late?
Breaking Braydon offers readers an emotional, compelling story filled with heartwarming humor, romance, heartbreak and love.
MK has always been a voracious reader. After hitting a dry spell of reading material, she decided to write the kind of book she’d like to read. This resulted in the creation of her debut novel, Intentional. (Award for Best Sweet Romance – eFestival of Words- August 2014)
Unintentional, her second book, is based on the life of one of the characters in Intentional. Unintentional was written as a stand-alone book.
Breaking Braydon is MK’s newest work. It will be published early 2015.
When she’s not writing novels, she likes to spend her free time traveling the world, splashing in mud puddles (She lives in Seattle, what can she say?), watching movies and reading (!)
MK also runs her own business in her current hometown of Mercer Island, Washington.
She LOVES to hear from her readers!