Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Welcome to the Party!

Second Chances: A Romance Writers of America Collection


Have you joined the party yet?

If not, you will find it HERE starting at noon Eastern time.

 I will be co-hosting with Brandi Willis Schreiber from
4:00 PM Pacific time, 6:00 PM Central, 7:00 PM Eastern time. 




Do you believe in second chances? 

Romance Writers of America® brings together seventeen of today's hottest authors in an anthology of never-before-published tales that reveal true love always deserves a happy ending.

Follow New York Times best-selling authors J. Kenner and Christina Lauren back to reader-favorite worlds.

New York Times bestseller Alyssa Day sprinkles djinn magic in her humorous paranormal romance, while Rachel Hauck brings the enchantment of the holidays in her New Year’s Eve contemporary love story.

And Liliana Hart delivers thrills and adventure in her hero and heroine's search for the impossible. 

With characters who find love through tough situations, in elegant 1800s ballrooms, with an old friend who shows up when least expected, at a tender age when cliques and homework get in the way of relationships, or after a random encounter in an unlikely setting, Second Chances delivers romance to strike every reader’s fancy.

Plus tales from:
Marilyn Brant
Kerri Carpenter
CiCi Coughlin
Cassandra Dean
Tina Ferraro
Renee Luke
Ariella Moon
Brandi Willis Schreiber
Lizzie Shane
Sharon Sobel
Damon Suede
Tara Wyatt


Here's an excerpt from my Second Chance story, "Covert Hearts."

A prickle spider-walked down my spine. I lowered my turkey sandwich and scanned the cliques scattered around the quad. Past the cheerleaders holding court in their thigh-high pleated skirts, past the skaters perched with their boards on top of the concrete retaining wall, beyond a trio of sophomore girls checking their cell phones, he drew my stare. Wind ruffled his hair as he leaned against the flagpole.
Our gazes collided like a six-foot swell crashing against the hull of a small boat. His lips parted; he straightened his lanky stance. I drew in a quick breath and averted my gaze. Where had he come from? Vogue? Vanity Fair? Maybe a castle in the United Kingdom was missing its ginger-haired prince.
First-day-at-a-new-high-school-nerves trembled my hands as I stashed my half-eaten sandwich into its plastic cube and snapped the blue lid into place. Be cool. I finger-combed my hair. The sight of caramel brown tresses slipping through my fingers startled me. For a second I had forgotten the dye job, another layer in my disguise. If I didn’t look like Sailor Saint James, and I didn’t bear her name, then no one would hound me.
Sailor, why weren’t you on the yacht with your father? Did he ask you to stay home because he planned to kill himself?
I wriggled on the boulder, searching for a more comfortable perch. A local pediatrician had donated the money for the wellness garden bordering the quad. The lavender, rosemary, and sage intermixed with the oversized rocks were supposed to lower student anxiety. Bees buzzed alarmingly close; a chaotic platoon of miniature drones. My throat constricted.
I should have sailed with him. Maybe I could have stopped…whatever happened.
I rotated my cashmere-lined leather baseball cap so the brim shaded my eyes. Most of my trappings of wealth had been lost  — my private school, our home, and of course, the yacht was collateral damage. My designer clothes hung untouched in the cramped closet in our small loft above a dying strip mall on the outskirts of town. Fashion editors and bloggers had praised my signature style — too distinctive now that I needed to blend in, not stand out. Only the baseball cap, seemingly ordinary but deceptively well designed and pricey, remained.
I risked another glance at the redhead. He had halved the distance between us. A rogue basketball escaped a nearby pickup game and bounced his way. He caught it, barely breaking stride.
“Over here!” a player shouted.
I expected the boy to send the ball bouncing back to the court. Instead, he lobbed a powerful chest pass.
“Dude! Join us,” the player shouted.
The redhead inclined his head toward me. “Maybe tomorrow.”
The other boy sized me up then pumped his arm at the ginger.
My plan to blend in imploded. The wretched boulder refused to crack open and swallow me whole. My adrenaline surged as the boy neared. Before I could formulate an escape, his shadow slanted across me. Hope and excitement gleamed in his eyes. “Sailor? Sailor Saint James?” His copper brows twitched.
My stomach free fell. Crap. I should have fled to the girls’ bathroom while I had the chance. I cleared my throat. “You have me confused with someone else.”


Second Chances is available at:

An Unexpected Inspiration

Sailor Saint James's look solidified for me when I saw this Teen Vogue cover of 
pop star Rita Ora:


Back to the party! See you on Facebook!

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