Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Shifters in Snow: Bundle of Joy17 Brand-New Stand-Alone Paranormal Romances

Shifters in the Snow: Bundle of Joy: Seventeen Paranormal Romances of Winter Wolves, Merry Bears, and Holiday Spirits

by J.K. Harper, Milly Taiden, Jacqueline Sweet, Auriella Skye, Gen Gericault, Edith Hawkes, Elianne Adams, Alyse Zaftig, Scarlett Grove, Bella Love-Wins, Anya Nowlan, Suki Selborne, J.M. Klaire, Holley Trent, Liv Brywood, Olivia Arran, Cynthia Fox Publication Date: November 15, 2016 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Paranormal, Romance, Box Set

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Purchase: Amazon |Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

17 Brand-New, Exclusive, Stand-Alone Paranormal Romances Celebrate the festive holiday season with hot stories from some of your favorite USA Today & New York Times Bestselling authors! Burly bears, prowling panthers, charming cheetahs, winter witches, and fiery dragons are waiting to heat up your sheets. Make it a Merry Shiftmas with the Bundle of Joy! Dragon Baby by Milly Taiden – Thane will do anything to protect Lily and their baby, including killing anyone who threatens their existence. Wolf Mate’s Secret by Bella Love-Wins -Robin’s ski slope encounter with gorgeous playboy, Dr. O’Halloran, turns into a smoldering night with unexpected secrets, and gifts that keep on giving. The Dragon’s Christmas Baby by Anya Nowlan – A dragon will do anything for his fortune. Even more so if the fortune is a curvy, sassy woman and a baby he didn’t even know he had… Tempt Me Cowbear by Liv Brywood -Recently divorced, Donna is ready to finally live her own life. But when she meets cowboy Brody at Curvy Bear Ranch, she has to decide if she’s ready to give up her new freedom to take a chance on the love of a lifetime. The Honeybear’s Secret Baby by Jacqueline Sweet – Outlaw shifter Jordan and by-the-book Sebastian shared only one night together, but it left a secret new life growing inside her. When he catches her mid-heist, will he turn her in or be the Alpha she needs? Deputy Bear by Scarlett Grove – Harper Brown left her cheating ex and moved to Fate Mountain just before Christmas. When she finds her new boss dead, she becomes the prime suspect! Good thing she has Deputy Bear Knox Carter to keep her safe and solve the case. Burden by Elianne Adams – Beaten, imprisoned, and even starved, Violet has reason to be afraid of any male. But with a baby on the way, she has to decide whether she will live in fear, or risk her body and heart to claim her true mate. My Wound to Bear by Olivia Arran -Recovering from a horrifying and painful past, Gina’s future is uncertain, until she meets a certain sexy bear shifter. Is he the Christmas miracle she needs to heal her broken soul…and her heart? Panther in a Pear Tree by Cynthia Fox -When a hunter showers the mountains of Mistletoe Hollow with bullets, he sends panther shifter Leah straight into the arms of her human crush. Is it time to abandon her shifters-only mating policy? The Christmas Spirit by Gen GĂ©ricault– Whiskey-brewing witch Hazel Fortescue and alpha grizzly Hudson Holloway come together to save his nephew from a Christmas spirit. Mountain Bear’s Baby by J.K. Harper -Bear shifter Shane Walker left his brawling past behind. Then Jessie shows up with his baby son. Can he tame his wild bear and be the man his sudden family needs? Father Shiftmas by Edith Hawkes -Security guard Joseph Stone likes his routine, but one snowy night an intruder changes everything when he’s left holding a crying baby. An Impawsible Christmas by JM Klaire -Mix four shifter weddings, a dragon coronation, a stranger fleeing for her life, a found baby, and an ultimatum–mate or die–all together for a very interesting Christmas at the castle. Cheetahs Never Run by Suki Selborne -It’s not easy being a single mom, or a witch with no magical skills. When her cheetah shifter ex Quinn shows up in Rocky Falls for the holidays, Tyla is forced to share her biggest secret. Enchanting Her Alphas by Auriella Skye– When a water witch running from her past meets two sexy wolf shifters, it leads to a steamy holiday encounter and a cute, little revelation. Angel by Holley Trent – Single dad Grant’s got a ranch to run and a wolfpack to lead. His sweet holiday guest, Angel, could be a mom for Pete, but a weak mate may be a liability in an unstable pack. The Panther’s Christmas Surprise by Alyse Zaftig – Amani didn’t just see a lethal panther morph into a naked man, did she? She just uncovered a dark secret that might get her killed.

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Hail Mary by Nicola Rendell

 

 


 



Coming November 28th


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At a boxing gym in Chicago, Mary Monahan accidentally knocks out the most handsome man she’s ever met. After she wakes him up with a few slaps and some smelling salts, the very first thing he does is ask her out for ribs and beer. His name is Jimmy. He looks like a Gillette model. And he’s just too hunky to resist.

Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi is mystified that Mary has absolutely no idea who he is. Mystified and refreshed. He is, after all, not your everyday NFL quarterback. He shops at Costco, has a soft spot for Pinterest, and is in the midst of an epic losing streak.

Jimmy falls for Mary fast and hard, the way he does everything—balls out and like it’s fourth and long. And he realizes he’s finally met his match. That stamina he’s so proud of? Doesn’t stand a chance against her Kegels.

But what they don’t know is she’s also his new physical therapist, recently hired by the Bears to work on his rotator cuff…and groin injury. If she can’t help him, he’ll be traded faster than they can say “offensive penetration.”

In spite of the thousands of internet memes featuring Jimmy’s face with captions like: “HEY GIRL, WANT TO TOUCH MY BALLS?” Mary finds herself falling for him and his unrelenting desire to make her his.

Until a toddler shows up at Jimmy’s door.

And throws their lives into total chaos.

***

To the reader: Contents includes love, sweetness, naughtiness, honey, champagne, and an HEA. Safe.



























Chapter 1
Jimmy


She’s got a hell of a left hook, and her jab is no joke either. It’s hard to tell what she really looks like, with the big blue rubber mouth guard between her teeth and the black padded headgear covering her jaw and cheeks. But I know this: I want to get my hands on that body. Her tight pink tee is low cut and skin tight, and across her breasts are the words: “NOBODY’S PUSSYCAT.”
A cold draft blows in from the window, making goosebumps ripple up her arms. A thin stream of sweat runs down into her cleavage, and then I watch her nipples tighten. Christ. With little bounces, she heads back to her corner and bends over for her water bottle. Stretchy black leggings and no panty line.
Fuuuuuck.
The buzzer dings and we square up. She holds her gloves up to her face, ready to go. They’re bubblegum pink with white cuffs; the girliest weapons I’ve ever seen.
But never mind the gloves. It’s those eyes that have me. Shit, those eyes. This crazy deep green. Packers’ green. Jets’ green. Green like cash. Green that could make a guy go right out of his mind.
Pow goes a jab into my stomach and I double over, tasting my Gatorade from an hour ago. Before I can breathe, before I can even get up my gloves to slow her down, she pelts me hard with a cross to my sternum that knocks the wind straight out of me. I gasp for air and stagger back into the ropes.
“Jesus Christ,” I moan. “Who are you?”
Her eyes light up in this smile. This beautiful fucking smile that I feel way down inside. Then she bounces on her toes and smacks her gloves together out in front of her. Whap, whap. “I’m Mary!” she says around her mouth guard. “And you’re slow!”
Cute. But, yeah…no. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody. I hurl myself off the ropes, colliding with her in the center of the ring, skin against skin now. I press into her sexy shoulder with my bicep, feeling the sweat between us. She nails me in the gut again; a solid, low-slung straight, and I think, I can’ t hit a girl, can I?
No. Fuck, no.
So I stretch my arm between us, the padding of my glove holding her steady right below her collarbone. She swings for me but I’m a foot taller and she doesn’t stand a chance. “Jerk!”
Obviously.
But on the upside, now I can really get a good look at her the way I want to; close up, but not so close that she’s pummeling me. Her legs are solid and I can even see that little curve of her hipbones barely showing through her leggings. I let my eyes follow the line of sweat to her inner thighs, to that wet, hot place where everything comes together. Fuck. I want my hands on that place. I want to feel the softness and the strength. I want to know the taste of that sweat. The way that softness gives under my tongue.
Ding goes the buzzer. I push her away, padded knuckles to her shoulder. She spins and gets into her corner, so I do the same.
I grab my water bottle and squirt it into my mouth, watching her all the time. She’s fucking beautiful, this one. Fucking gorgeous. The woman of dreams. Of fantasies.
From a pink Nalgene, she takes one big gulp, two, and a little water dribbles down her lips, rolling in drops down her throat. Her eyes stay right on mine. Her chest heaves. Her eyes flash. Her lips tighten. And that’s when it happens. She peels off her T-shirt and tosses it to the floor so that the only word showing is PUSSY.
Ding.
Her body is fucking perfect. I mean perfect. I moan into my mouth guard and I look her up and down. Lean but not thin. Sexy and strong. A fighter’s body. A woman’s body. A body strong enough to take everything I want to give it. And then some.
She turns to set down her water bottle, bending at the waist. And that’s when I see it. The tattoo. It’s a ribbon of black lace that runs in a beautiful, feminine line down her back from right shoulder to left hip, curving down into her pants. Tough as hell, pretty as can be. And with the sexiest tattoo I've ever seen in my life.
Stick a motherfucking fork in me. I’m done.
“Nice ink,” I tell her as we square up again.
“Thanks,” she says, leaning in to my shoulder.
“I’ve never seen one like it.” I hook my arm around her again and pull her in. I smell something familiar. I can’t place it. She slips free and moves behind me. For one second, all I can hear is her shoes on the mats.
“I rebelled when I turned 30. It was either this or a tramp stamp.”
“Of what?” I pivot so my face is close against hers.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” She smiles tight around the mouth guard. Her glove comes through the air, cutting through the noise of the gym. Whooosh.
I get my right hand up just in time to block her with my glove. The impact rolls down my forearm like I’m nothing but Jell-O.
She lets another jab fly but misses me—barely—and I slip around behind her. The hair at the nape of her neck is curly and wet, and a long dark braid runs down her back. That strip of wet fabric at the top of her pants, dark with sweat. “Why are we fighting?” I growl as I get closer. “Why aren’t we out drinking? Making trouble? Fucking around? Let me take you out.”
She spins to face me, her eyes wide open, surprised. “You wanna drink with me?”
“Hell yes, I do. And a lot of other things.”
“You want me? Fight me.” She fires her bubblegum pink cannons at my stomach with a one-two combination that makes me feel like I’m nothing but a 283-pound heavy bag.
I try to get in a left cross, but she’s way faster than I am and comes up from under with a hook straight out of Manila.
That one got me in my brainpan, in my marrow. “Fuck that,” I snarl.
“Atta boy!”
No way. Nobody atta boys me. I’m Jimmy Goddamned Falconi. I’m nobody’s boy. Never.
“Atta girl.” I nudge her in the shoulder with my chest.
Around her guard, she says, “You fight like you’re in molasses. But you’re strong. You some kind of athlete?”
At first, I’m about to laugh. For about one second, I think I might be on Candid Camera or something. I mean, I can’t walk to the bathroom on an airplane without someone asking me to sign a cocktail napkin. I can’t get through Costco without someone asking me to sign their shopping list. Some kind of athlete?
I’m Jimmy “The Falcon” Falconi. Quarterback for the Chicago Goddamned Bears. I’m somebody.
But there’s zero recognition in her eyes. No flicker of the fangirl. No sign she’s playing it cool either. To her, I’m just a guy getting his ass kicked by a girl in pink gloves.
“Hello?” She presses into my chin with a slow uppercut from the right.
I snap out of it. I don’t even know how to answer her. I play quarterback for the Bears. Ever heard of them? Or maybe, Ever heard of football? America’s Game? Fuck. I wouldn’t even know how to start. I’ve never had to explain it. People just know. “Yeah, I like to work out.”
“Then act like it,” she says, all piss and vinegar, and puts her guard back in her mouth. Wham comes that jab into my gut. Pow goes the straight to my pecs. I loop one arm around her and pull her body in close, hooking the back of her neck with the crook of my elbow. I pull her closer, tighter, both arms around her, to get a feel for her…but also to give myself a goddamned break.
She struggles a little, trying to squirm free, but I see the smile on her face, the crinkle of the skin at her eyes.
I pull her head closer to mine. I must be twice her weight; no way is she going to get free now. We are the welterweight and the super heavyweight. Wrong class totally. But then she wedges her forehead in against my chest. I watch her wind up, her biceps flexing, and, boom-boom-boom.
Every time she connects, I lose a little more air and groan, “Fuck-fuck-fuck!”
“Atta boy!”
Fuck. That.
So I keep her pinned and she starts fighting harder, which makes me want to hang on to her more. I press my nose against her head. In her thick brown hair, I can smell her shampoo, her conditioner. Coconut.
While I’m distracted by that smell, thinking of sunscreen and ukulele music and drinks with umbrellas and her on a beach, she slips out from under my arms and pops up in my face.
Well, shit.
“What, you chicken? Gonna hit me back? Or do you want to dance around for an hour or two? Because I can totally do that. I just have to go home to feed the dog.” Whap-whap go her padded fists.
Oh no, no way. No way am I going to let a pretty little thing talk to me like that. I sniff hard and man up.
I give her a jab. A hook. A cross.
And she blocks me every damned time. Blocks me like she’s fought me before, or like she’s known all along what I’ll do when it comes down to it.
Fucking wax-on-wax off, one-two-three.
Pow-pow go her gloves into my side, and fuck. I think I feel those it in my spleen. Enough. Enough. Anger boils up through me like cheap vodka after a long night.
I’m Jimmy Falconi. And I’m gonna make this girl know my name.
I crack my neck side to side and get serious. I suck air through the holes in my mouth guard and get my fists up. I edge her into the corner and those eyes flash at me. She’s sweating hard and her mascara is smudged. Her hair is mussed and her skin is slick. It makes her look dangerous. Angry. I’d like to smudge that mascara a little more. In bed. Immediately.
But first, I’m going to show her who’s boss.
The more she works herself up, the hotter she gets. That’s when something catches my eye. There’s something written on the white cuffs of her gloves. All fuzzy, written in black marker:
On the right glove: HERE COMES…
On the left:…TROUBLE!
Whomp.
She nails me in the jaw with a haymaker, and my molars shake. “Come the fuck on,” I growl back at her, with my glove pressed to the side of my face.
She smacks her gloves together, and lowers her chin. “Are we sparring or chatting? Hit me!” Bounce, bounce, bounce. Butterfly, bee. Whap, whap, whap. “I’m not going to break!”
I work my jaw open and closed a few times thinking, Okay. Fine. Fine. I didn’t think it was going to go like this, but I can roll with a hostile defense, sure. Wouldn’t be the first time. I give her the old elevator stare—up, down, up again—and get stuck on her belly button for a little too long. But then I get a game plan together. I figure I can hit her in the stomach. Not too hard, not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to let her know who’s in charge here.
Which would be me. Me, pussycat. Me.
Nudging the edge of her shoulder with my glove, I drive her backwards. Our eyes lock and I get this…this…prickle all through me.
This woman.
This one. Right here.
I want her. So fucking bad.
The fucking gym with its ten phones playing mariachi goes silent. The guys by the cooler egging her on go silent. It’s just her and me and the sweat dripping between us. Soft skin, sparkling eyes. She smells like a summer day and she’s looking at me in a way that no woman has ever looked at me. Ever.
Like she’s gonna own me and she knows it.
Which is bullshit.
She gives me a little lift of her chin and tightens her lips around the guard. She wipes her nose with her glove and then lowers her head. “Come on! You going to fight or are you just going to screw around?”
With my left hand, I jab her softly in the stomach. With the right, a play-hook to the jaw. I raise her chin on my glove so her eyes come up to mine. Then I pull her close, my arm around the back of her neck again. “You wanna screw around?” I say into her ear.
Bam, another hit to the stomach. “I haven’t even gotten started,” she answers.
Fuck it.
She wants to play? Fucking fine. I'll play. I'll play hard. I square up. But she gives me this eye. This champion eye. A winner’s eye. Cocky like no eyes I've ever seen before. Tom Brady doesn’t have anything on this kind of cocky right here. My luck, this girl’s some UFC champion. Christ.
But I can take her. Yeah, I sure fucking can.
Probably.
I decide on a straight jab; a no-fail straight jab that I plan just hard enough to send her reeling but not hurt her, not actually injure her. I know the punch. It works in bar fights and brawls on the field. An all-American move. As I wind up, everything slows down. I’m 6’6”, 283 pounds, and I throw a football for a living. When I wind up, I wind up. As I do, she ducks, fast as fucking lightning. Greased. Elegant. Lethal. So as my arm is powering through the air, as my momentum gets caught behind 12-ounce training gloves, she pops back up like a goddamned whack-a-mole.
Those eyes flash again and she smiles so hard I can see her dimples.
Dimples. Oh, fuck.
I watch her shoulder tighten, her tricep pucker, and that’s when she lets me have it for real.
The punch comes from left to right, blocking out my view of everything. I don’t see the Mexican flag on the wall. I don’t see the graffiti mural over the windows. Nope. The universe turns bubblegum pink.
It doesn’t hurt, not at first, and as I’m flying backwards, airborne, I have just enough time to think to myself, I wonder if this is what a knockout punch feels like…
Before everything flickers to black.



































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Nicola Rendell writes dirty, funny, erotic romance. She likes a stiff drink and a well-frosted cake. She is at an unnamed Ivy and prefers to remain mostly anonymous for professional reasons. She has a PhD in English and an MFA in Creative Writing from schools that shall not be named here. She loves to cook, sew, and play the piano. She realizes that her hobbies might make her sound like an old lady and she’s totally okay with that. She lives with her husband and her dogs. She is from Taos, New Mexico.


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The Boyfriend Whisperer and Giveaway by Linda Budzinski

The Boyfriend Whisperer
Linda Budzinski
Published by: Swoon Romance
Publication date: November 15th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Sports

As President and CEO of Boyfriend Whisperer Enterprises, Lexi Malloy is Grand View High School’s undercover Cupid. One problem: She’s stuck in the friend zone when it comes to her own crush, Chris Broder. She and Chris have been best friends since the third grade, and he doesn’t even seem to realize she’s is a member of the opposite sex.

When pretty and popular cheerleader Lindsay LaRouche hires Lexi to whisper Chris, she has to decide whether to place her commitment to her company—and Chris’s happiness—before herself.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Principal Cho calls my teammates out one by one at the pep rally. He announces my name last, and I dribble across the court, through a tunnel made up of the cheer squad as well as both the boys’ and girls’ teams, and stop at the top of the key to throw Chris an alley-oop.

He sails toward the basket, his muscles rippling as he reaches out, snatches the ball out of the air, transfers it from one hand to the other, and stuffs it through the rim. Magnificent.

I remember the precise moment I fell in love with Christian Broder. It was this past October when a bunch of us decided to play a pick-up game at the courts down at Claymore Park. It was a warm day, and Chris took off his shirt. I vaguely wondered when he’d developed pecs. I tried to defend against him on a drive to the basket, but it seemed he’d gained six inches on me overnight. He swerved around, up, and past me, and … wham. His first dunk shot.

It was perhaps the most beautiful move I’d ever seen on a basketball court. Or anywhere. Ever. I could barely breathe. Had to fake a cramp in my leg and take myself out of the game. Now, watching him soar through the air again, I have that same gut reaction. I struggle to pull myself together as he runs up and gives me a high-five.

“Nice toss, Malloy.”

“Nice tip in, Broder.”

He laughs. “Yeah, right. Tip in. I hear you.” He drapes his arm across my shoulder. “I have a great feeling about this weekend.”

I nod, unable to form words, and the rest of the pep rally swirls by in a whirlwind of pompoms and victory chants.


Author Bio:

My young adult novels, EM & EM (2015) and THE FUNERAL SINGER (2013), were both published by Swoon Romance YA. My upcoming novel, THE BOYFRIEND WHISPERER, scheduled for publication in fall of 2016 by Swoon, received the Romance Writers of America Young Adult Chapter’s 2015 Rosemary Award and the Virginia Chapter’s 2015 Fool for Love Award.

I live in Northern Virginia with my husband, Joe, and our feisty chihuahua, Demitria (also known as Dee Dee, The Puppy, and Killer). I’m a sucker for romance and reality TV and have been known to turn off my phone’s ringer when watching “The Bachelor.”

My favorite flower is the daisy, my favorite food is chocolate, and my favorite song is “Amazing Grace.”

When I’m not writing, I work in nonprofit management. I’m represented by the amazing Andrea Somberg of Harvey Klinger Inc.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter


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Decisive Moments and Giveaway by Trinity Hanrahan

Decisive Moments
Trinity Hanrahan
(In Time, #2)
Published by: Limitless Publishing
Publication date: September 6th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

High School is over. Aislinn Munroe is ready to face the challenge of college and her new relationship…

Aislinn has overcome her high school insecurities and embraced her relationship with reformed bad boy, Teagan Aldridge. Her life as a college student at the University of Florida is filled with new experiences and people, including the shining football star, Ryan Caldwell. Aislinn isn’t interested in Ryan’s attention or charm. She only wants to figure out what’s next for her and Teagan.

Aislinn wants to take the next step in their relationship, but Teagan isn’t ready…

Old insecurities sneak back in as Aislinn worries that their physical relationship has stalled. Teagan convinces Aislinn he just wants to wait for the right time, but his sweet gesture falls short when his ex-girlfriend Lauren shows up. Teagan’s past has finally caught up with him, and now they all have to face it.

Every choice has a consequence, and Aislinn must make a decision…

Teagan tries to take responsibility for his past, but Lauren only wants to monopolize his time and push Aislinn out of the picture. Aislinn has to choose. Trust Teagan and stand by her boyfriend, or let Lauren succeed in ripping them apart? College wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

Some decisions have far-reaching effects, and this one could cost Aislinn her heart. It’s time to make up her mind and face her…

Decisive Moments.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

I’d just closed the door to the dishwasher and was still bent over when I felt a warm, hard body press against my backside. I stood up as strong arms slipped around my waist and pulled me tight back against a well-muscled chest and stomach. My belly started doing little flip-flops as the man behind me nudged my hair out of his way and buried his face in my neck. I closed my eyes, leaning into him and enjoying the close quiet this moment held.

“I love you,” he murmured into my neck.

I smiled at the words. I never got tired of hearing him say it. I turned around and looped my arms around his neck, answering his smile with my own. My fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, running casually through the short, silken strands. His eyes began to darken to the color of stormy skies and a shiver worked through me.

When his eyes changed like that, it always meant things were about to get interesting.

I bit my lip to hold back a gasp when the hands he’d clasped at the small of my back loosened and slid down until they rested at the top of the swell of my backside. We hadn’t spent much time alone over the summer, so the whole intimate making out thing was something I was still learning along the way. But the feelings he could evoke with a touch even this simple made me wonder what more would feel like. I shivered again at that thought, and I bit my lip harder to keep quiet.

“Christ, Aislinn,” he groaned. “I told you not to do that,” he muttered, bringing a hand around and using a thumb to gently pry my lip from between my teeth. I blushed as he watched his thumb stroke my abused flesh before he licked his lips, and suddenly his lips were molded to mine.

Any ability to think flew out the window. The firm smoothness of his mouth on mine and his arms pulling me tight against his hard body rendered me less intelligent than primordial ooze. I felt something against the small of my back and realized he’d backed me up to the counter. He broke away for a moment, my breath catching when he lifted me up to sit on the edge, stepping close between my legs and crashing his mouth back onto mine.

The kiss was hot and wet. Our breaths came out in loud pants when we separated long enough to suck in a lungful of air. My legs were as tight around his lean waist and I could manage, arms and hands clutching his hair and shoulders with frantic need. His grip on me was just as desperate.


Author Bio:

Trinity lives with her husband and four children in Virginia. She grew up overseas in Turkey and Japan, where her love of reading developed due to a lack of English-speaking television. As her need for written works grew, so did her desire to create worlds for others to enjoy. By the time she was in middle school she had started writing short stories. She endeavors to break the mold where modern stereo-types are concerned and create engaging characters.

When she’s not writing or working, Trinity still enjoys settling down to read a book or doing graphic art in her spare time.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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