BESTSELLING AND AWARD WINNING AUTHOR OF WESTERN ROMANCE!
Caroline Clemmons writes historical and contemporary genre fiction. Historical romances, contemporary romantic suspense, mysteries, and paranormals are among her current works. Learn more about her at https//www.carolineclemmons.com
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The Baron Regrets
by
D.S. Dehel
Genre: Contemporary Romance, Cozy Mystery
Regret nothing.
Tessa Winthrop, an art restoration specialist, is hoping for the job of a lifetime—one which would cement her reputation in a field dominated by her male colleagues.
Working for Baron Lucien Stanhope—or Leo as he prefers—challenges Tess’s talent, intellect, and emotions. Leo is charming, handsome, and way out of her league. It doesn’t matter, though, because she only is there for her art and the mystery surrounding master painter Giovanni Remini.
When a night of passion leads to consequences that could mean the end of her career, Tess fears that the baron regrets having ever met her.
But fate has more in store for them, and sometimes regrets are the beginning of better things.
"Robert, I would like you to meet Ms Tessa Winthrop. She is the art historian and conservator I have hired to work on Willows." Leo had not moved from just inside the door. "Tess, I would like you to meet my brother, Robert."
Robert did a double-take and dropped the remote before hopping up and heading towards them.
Tess’s first thought was that while Leo was like a model in a magazine, she would look at him, think, He’s handsome, but then turn the page and forget about him. However, Robert was also like a model, but she would tear his picture out to be used as a reference. He was that striking.
The brothers were a study in contrasts. Although they were the same height, Leo appeared taller because of his thin, aristocratic build. Robert was more muscular and wore clothes that emphasized the fact. Leo’s hair was ash brown and wavy, possibly curly, but it was short and slicked back. Robert’s was straight and dark blond, worn fashionably long.
Up close, she noticed Robert’s eyes were the color of the sea on a sunny day, while Leo’s were a stormy gray.
“I’m the spare,” Robert said, shaking Tess’s hand and not letting go. He turned to Leo. “And here I thought you were hiring another dowdy artist. You didn’t tell me she was beautiful.”
“Robert is my younger brother and an incorrigible flirt. Don’t listen to a word he says.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say. Tess is beautiful. She reminds me of Botticelli’s Venus.” He tugged Tess closer to him with the hand he was still holding. “Don’t pay any attention to Leo. He’s just an old bore who has no taste in women.”
Leo rolled his eyes. “She looks nothing like Venus.”
“How insulting.” But Robert’s outrage was clearly feigned.
“Well, at least he didn’t say I look like Picasso’s Woman in a Green Hat,” she quipped.
Behind them, Leo snorted. Robert smiled, but Tess could see he did not know the Cubist painting. I bet Venus is the only painting you know.
“I hate to interrupt your vain attempt at wooing Tessa, but I would like to show her where she will be working.” Leo was now the formal, serious man of the interview.
It was Robert’s turn to roll his eyes at his brother.
“And it’s gauche to flirt with staff.”
Though she may have been teasing, she had a rule to not get involved with her employers.
Finally, Robert dropped her hand. “But my dear, you are not staff. You are an expert restorer, and thus fair game.”
“You stay away from her.” Leo pointed a finger at his brother. “Let her work.” Then he walked out of the room.
D. S. Dehel is a lover of literature, good food, and the Oxford comma. When she is not immersed in a book, she is mom to her kids and spoiling her rather coddled feline, Mr. Darcy or her equally pampered puppy, Jameson. Having finally retired, she spends her days dreaming up new plotlines. She adores literary allusions, writing sex scenes, and British men. Actually, make that hot men in general. Her devoted husband is still convinced she writes children’s books. Please don’t enlighten him.
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Death of a Sculptor in Hue, Shape and Color
by
M. C. V. Egan
Genre: Suburban Women's Fiction
Color coded love stories and revealing female anatomies lead to the murder of world renowned sculptor, Bruce Jones.
In life, the artist loved women, almost as much as women loved him. Adored for his art and colorful personality, Bruce is mourned by the world at large. The tale is launched with the multifaceted perspectives of four ex-wives, the current wife, and his new love interest and their children.
Mary , Bruce’s wealthy first love, is always in perfect pink; the color of love. Mother of Clair the famous actress and Aaron the corporate lawyer.
Leslie The Second’s color is yellow for her sunny nature as much as for her fears and insecurities. Her only son Bobby is vulnerable and lost. Mourning his father’s death, he finds himself.
Petra The Third, is outstanding in orange, representing not only her native Holland but also her love of the fruit. Cherished her freedom and had no children of her own.
Toni The Fourth is a vibrant passionate Italian red and part of the eventual glue that creates and solidifies this dysfunctional Jones family.
Her teenage daughters Tina and Isa are as different as night and day.
Brooke The Fifth a gold-digger. Green, her color, reflects the color of money and envy. Her young son’s Kyle and Caleb are too young to understand why their world has been turned upside-down.
Mara, as blue as the ocean was the last woman to steal Bruce’s heart. Mother to newborn Baby Peter is the unexpected gift and surprise.
Bruce Jones’ eight children speak out, too.
They are as distinctive as the women he loved, their mothers.
Loose ends are tied up by the insights of Sylvia, Aaron’s wife and a trusted keeper of secrets; Scott, the private investigator and family friend; Nona, the quintessential grandmother everyone loves but to whom few are truly related; and Detective Jim Miller
who will not rest until he discovers Bruce Jones’ murderer.
Thunder, lightning, and rain─that was what we had at our wedding. However, on the day of his funeral, the Florida heat and humidity made my face shiny with perspiration. My hair looked like a dark Brillo pad. My children requested I attend the funeral of my first husband, Bruce Jones, the world-renowned sculptor.
The parking lot was already packed with an unexpected variety of cars. I then realized that it was not peak season. The South Florida snowbirds are attached to their cars and they migrate with them back and forth each year.
I noticed a police car and a uniformed man by the entrance. Even for Bruce a bit much; however, since 9/11, security has been tight everywhere.
The valet attendant opened my rental car door. “Welcome ma’am. Your daughter is waiting for you.”
“Thank you. Please make sure you keep the car in the shade. August Florida heat and sun are not my friends.” I pulled a five-dollar bill from my purse to tip him, but he shook his head and mumbled, “No, thank you.”
After all it was Palm Beach. I probably should have pulled out a twenty.
I was surprised that the building looked like an actual church, at least from the outside. The church had a long name. It was Universal something or other─apparently, a place of worship with neither affiliation nor strictures. Bruce’s life had, after all, been too outré to pretend he followed any conventional religious norm.
“Thanks for coming, Mom.” Clair’s voice shouldn’t have surprised me, but I stood still, focused on carefully dabbing my shiny nose. I clicked the compact shut, smiled, and answered, “Anything for you and Aaron, sweetheart.” She nodded as she guided me where to sit. It was toward the back of the church─the ex-wives’ pew.
“Please Mom, don’t look at me that way. This funeral is a time for forgiveness and closure.”
Clair always found a way to get me to do whatever she wanted. The last thing I wanted was to be in the company of the women sitting there. I touched my frizzy hair, regretting my rejection of the keratin treatment.
A word, a single word defines a moment for Anne. She needs to find a new one when her spouse, Frank, leaves her at the age of forty-seven, coming out of the closet literally in a closet.
She finds herself back in her hometown of Skvallerby, Connecticut among her high school friends which she had left in her past.
An inheritance from a frenemy leaves her with the means to meddle and spy on the lives of mutual acquaintances.
In an attempt to run from her reality Anne becomes engrossed in a game of fun and flirtation with her friend and fellow sufferer Connie.
Their fun games turn into a deadly reality. It is no longer a game. Life, death and not even a defining word can stop the reality of manipulation.
On August 15th, 1939, an English passenger plane from British Airways Ltd. crashed in Danish waters between the towns of Nykøbing Falster and Vordingborg. There were five casualties reported and one survivor. Just two weeks before, Hitler invaded Poland. With the world at the brink of war, the manner in which this incident was investigated left much open to doubt. The jurisdiction battle between the two towns and the newly formed Danish secret police created an atmosphere of intrigue and distrust.
The Bridge of Deaths is a love story and a mystery. Fictional characters travel through the world of past life regressions and information acquired from psychics as well as archives and historical sources to solve "one of those mysteries that never get solved." Based on true events and real people, The Bridge of Deaths is the culmination of 18 years of sifting through conventional and unconventional sources in Denmark, England, Mexico and the United States. The story finds a way to help the reader feel that s/he is also sifting through data and forming their own conclusions. Cross The Bridge of Deaths into 1939, and dive into cold Danish waters to uncover the secrets of the G-AESY.
On August 15th, 1939, an English passenger plane from British Airways Ltd. crashed in Danish waters between the towns of Nykøbing Falster and Vordingborg. There were five casualties reported and one survivor. Just two weeks before, Hitler invaded Poland. With the world at the brink of war, the manner in which this incident was investigated left much open to doubt. The jurisdiction battle between the two towns and the newly formed Danish secret police created an atmosphere of intrigue and distrust. The Bridge of Deaths is a love story and a mystery. Fictional characters travel through the world of past life regressions and information acquired from psychics as well as archives and historical sources to solve "one of those mysteries that never get solved." Based on true events and real people, The Bridge of Deaths is the culmination of 18 years of sifting through conventional and unconventional sources in Denmark, England, Mexico and the United States. The story finds a way to help the reader feel that s/he is also sifting through data and forming their own conclusions. Cross The Bridge of Deaths into 1939, and dive into cold Danish waters to uncover the secrets of the G-AESY.
Cooking, like writing, has a variety of layers and flavors. A perfect example is a lasagna. I chose this dish because the character Nona, in my book Death of a Sculptor; in Hue, Shape, and Color, cooks Italian food that brings family closer, and my Lasagna was inspired by Nona. I used to make a lazy version of Lasagna with my homemade meat sauce, Ricotta cheese, and a layer of spinach, often from a frozen pack!
I rarely measure and cook by feel, a bit more like a pantser writer than a plotter.
Preheat oven at 375F degree.
For meat sauce use your favorite recipe, I use only beef, but love sauces made with pork, veal, beef combination. If you are not crazy about making a meat sauce or want a lighter version your favorite Italian tomato sauce in a jar will do.
Mine has tons of Garlic, Onions, Fresh Basil, Oregano, and I use as a base a jar sauce, my husband and son love. I prefer to make my own, but like with writing, the bottom line is; Who is the receiving consumer?
Nona’s Lasagna has a homemade cheese sauce with a traditional bechamel base.
1 cups milk ( may need more) to 1 tablespoons butter to 2 tablespoons flour.
I do not measure, and I use far more butter than traditional recipes. I used half a stick of salted butter, I melt that, add flour to get a roux, I add my milk cold and slowly until I get the consistency I like I then add 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese and 1 cup of shredded Mozzarella cheese.
If your Lasagna is smaller, just half the recipe.
For my pasta, I used a supermarket brand pasta, and I cooked it al dente (otherwise it rips) in boiling water, olive oil, and salt.
Fresh spinach, I used a tiny bit of olive oil, a pinch of salt and a little crushed garlic.
I layer as follows
• Meat Sauce
• Pasta
• Cheese sauce
• Pasta
• Spinach (if I do not have enough for a full layer I mix it with the cheese sauce)
• Pasta
• Meat sauce
• Pasta
Then another layer of meat a very thin one and cover that with Ricotta Cheese and Mozzarella.
I place the pan on a cookie sheet because it is the kind of thing that bubbles and gets messy and into the oven—placed in the middle rack not too high, not too low.
M.C.V. Egan is the pen name chosen by Maria Catalina Vergara Egan. Catalina is originally from Mexico City, Mexico. Catalina has lived in various countries and is fluent in four languages; Spanish, English, French and Swedish.
Her first book The Bridge of Deaths revolves around her maternal grandfather's death in 1939. A true-life pre-WWII event. It has over 200 footnotes with the resources of her extensive search through Archival materials as well as the use of psychometry and past life regressions. It is more fact than fiction.
The revised edition of The Bridge of Deaths; A love Story and a Mystery focuses on the story-line as opposed to fact, but all footnotes and facts are available through the website for any curious minds. http://www.thebridgeofdeaths.com
Defined by Others taps into the dark quirky side found even in the best of people. With the 2012 American elections as a backdrop and the fearless reassurance that the world might end on December 12, 2012, as predicted by the Mayan Calendar.
Death of a Sculptor; in Hue, Shape, and Color is a novella written in sixteen different voices. It is a murder mystery. She is currently working on a sequel; Bruce (title subject to change).
M.C.V. Egan lives and works in South Florida. She loves cooking and crafting. She is married and has a son. Aside from writing Astrology is one of her passions and careers she pursues.
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Wicked is the Duke
Mayfair Book 4
by
J R Salisbury
Genre: Historical Romance
Henry Blackmont, duke of Blackmont has a reputation as a rakehell and all around scoundrel. Invitations to his notorious house parties are highly sought after.
A few years after the untimely death of both his parents, and left with a parcel of siblings, Blackmont swears to change his wicked ways. He needs a wife, a woman who will be his duchess. Someone he hasn't found among the usual fare of young ladies. Until he meets Miss Anna Grover...
Anna Grover is a quiet, well educated young woman, someone Blackmont might have overlooked. Born and raised on the continent, she serves as hostess to her older brother, Robert. Her facade may show her to be demure, but Blackmont soon finds her to be far more stimulating.
The duke finds himself head over heels in love, but will it all be thwarted by another young lady determined to be the next duchess of Blackmont.
"Anna," he said as he returned to the main room of the cottage. He noted she had laid the food out on a nearby table. "Before we go any further, there is something I must speak with you about."
"What is it?" she asked as he neared.
He took both her hands and held them. "This isn't the way I planned to do this, but I thought with all that's going on, I should make an exception."
I've always been a creative individual. Writing is just a facet of that creativity...
My careers in public relations in and around the entertainment industry, photography, editing, artist management, modeling and special event planning all elevated my passion for writing, not to mention gave me a treasure trove for story lines.
I write women's fiction; contemporary romance (as Jamie Salisbury) and historical romance (as JR Salisbury) which is ever evolving. I am fortunate enough that writing (and marketing of said product(s)) is my full-time job, although I always have one or two other projects going at the same time.
I now live in a suburb of Atlanta. Some of my other interests include photography, equestrianism, reading, and of course, travel.
I sincerely hope my writing will entertain, enlighten, and inspire others to pick up the pen and pursue their own dreams. I love to be contacted by readers, writers, and history buffs.
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THE COWBOY'S SECRET BABY
Book 3, Colorado Dreamin' Series
by
Maddie James
Western Contemporary Romance
Date Published: August 15, 2020
Publisher:Sand Dune Books
The long-requested sequel to Maddie James' first published novel, Roses
& Rawhide is now available!
Readers wanted to know...
What happened to Jillie and Mack's relationship at the end of Roses &
Rawhide?
Why did Jillie go back to Kentucky?
Will they get back together? What's their story?
While Kim Martin and Thad Winchester find their happily-ever-after in Roses
& Rawhide, their best friends, Jillie Abernathy and Mack Montgomery, end
their sleeping bag sharing relationship during the rugged, two-week pack
trip into the Colorado San Juan mountains.
But when Kim and Thad host their wedding at Thad's Colorado ranch a few
months later, Mack and Jillie must come face-to-face with reality--and with
each other. She's the maid of honor. He's the best man. Both are harboring
secrets that could break a potential future relationship if they both keep
avoiding telling the truth.
Can they reveal those secrets to each other? And if so, can they get past
the withheld truths to plan a future together?
Excerpt
Jillie glanced up from the pot of chili and froze. The back door softly
closed, and Mack pushed into the mudroom. She watched as he parked his hat
on the bench beside the back door and hung his coat next to hers in the
closet, then strolled into the kitchen.
This feels a little too cozy. “What the hell?” she said.
“I thought you’d gone.”
He tossed her a sarcastic grin as he approached the kitchen island.
“Nope. I’m here. At least for the night. Guess we both need to
get used to it.”
“Why?”
“Weather and other stuff.”
“Is it that bad?”
He ignored her. “Did you get a nap?”
“Yes.”
“Good. By the way, I’m still on babysitting duty,” he
added.
“Oh my God, Mack, I can manage.” Jillie bristled and narrowed
her gaze. “I don’t need a sitter.”
“I’m still here anyway.”
“Well that’s ridiculous.” She turned back to the chili.
But the smirky smile he gave her right before she did—one that half
crossed over into dangerous sexy waters—unnerved her a bit. Flustered,
Jillie dropped the ladle into the chili. The hot soup splashed onto the back
of her hand and she jerked away. “Crap. Ouch!”
She snagged Mack’s gaze as he stepped forward. His intense glare
unnerved her so much that she didn’t see him reaching for her
hand.
“You lost the spoon,” Mack said. His fingers were still
cold from working outside. He lightly touched a knuckle. “You okay?
Those knuckles look red already.”
And they stung. She pulled back sharply, but not completely out of his
grasp. “Um. Yeah. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He tugged her closer, his blue eyes
dancing. She locked into his gaze and he held her there for a few seconds,
while her heart did a little flip-flop. Leaning in, he lifted her hand to
his lips, and licked off the chili spatter off.
One. Knuckle. At. A. Time.
Mesmerized by the action, all Jillie could do was stand there and let him.
His tongue dragging over her skin sent a revolving skitter of desire through
her body and jump-started the months-buried yearning for him in her
heart—and elsewhere. Every delicate nerve ending connected to her
hands tingled with anticipation. Where else might he lick?
Her lips?
Neck?
Um…?
Stunned at the heat of his touch, Jillie attempted to stifle the shiver
racing up her spine and keep her hand from shaking. She wasn’t
successful. After what seemed a suspended moment in time, he stopped, and
his gaze drifted up to meet hers.
Those blue eyes twinkled back. She trembled a little inside while her
tongue made a quick swipe over her suddenly parched lower lip. Mack’s
gaze immediately dropped to her mouth, and she willed down the flipping
butterflies in her stomach.
She stepped back and jerked her hand away.
About the Author
Maddie James writes to silence the people in her head—if only they
wouldn’t all talk at once!
Whether writing traditional contemporary romance or building paranormal
worlds, bestselling romance author, Maddie James, pens stories that
frequently cross a variety of romantic sub-genres. Sweet or spicy, suspense
or comedy, western or time-travel, her heroes and heroines are always
chasing one thing—the happily-ever-after.
Affaire de Coeur says, “James shows a special talent for traditional
romance,” and RT Book Reviews claims, “James deftly combines
romance and suspense, so hop on for an exhilarating ride.”
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Poisoned Primrose
Motts Cold Case Mystery Book 1
by Dahlia Donovan
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Autistic, asexual, and almost forty, Pineapple “Motts” Mottley flees London with her cat and turtle to a quaint cottage in Cornwall. She craves the peace of life in a small village. The dead body buried in her garden isn’t quite what she had in mind, though.
Unable to resist her curiosity, she falls directly into a mess of trouble and runs head-first into the attractive detective inspector, Teo Herceg. She tries to balance her business with the investigation, but as the killer focuses on her, staying alive becomes trickier than advanced origami.
Will Motts survive the onslaught of murderously bad luck?
Can she solve the mystery before it all spins out of control and off a cliff?
Chapter One
A cat, a turtle, and a Pineapple walk into a cottage…. That’s it. That’s the punch line of my life choices.
“Well, here we are.” Motts closed the solid wooden front door to her new cottage, leaning back against it and releasing a pent-up sigh. She opened her bluish-grey eyes to stare at all the boxes, plastic bins, and bags. “Bugger. You’ve no one to blame but yourself for this, Pineapple Mottley.”
Pineapple Meg Mottley had been so named because her mother had craved nothing but the tropical fruit during her one and only pregnancy. There’d only been one issue. No one ever called her Pineapple; her uncle had nicknamed her Motts as an infant, and it stuck.
Meow.
The plaintive cry came from behind one of the boxes. Motts moved quickly to lift up her precious cat. Cactus was a tortoiseshell Sphynx cat; she’d found the poor dear at a shelter and fallen head-over-sneakers in love. He buried his head in her shoulder-length brown hair, purring his little heart out.
She stroked the suede-like downy fuzz covering his wrinkly body. “What are we going to do about this mess? Want to help me unpack? No?”
Figures.
What have I gotten myself into?
When her auntie Daisy had passed away, Motts had taken the inherited cottage as a sign. London had always been overwhelming to her senses. Polperro was a much quieter place with a slower pace suited for her autistic needs.
She loved Polperro. Her parents were both originally from Cornwall. A lot of her family lived in the area, as did her ex-girlfriend.
Despite having spent many a holiday with family at the cottage, Motts found herself overwhelmed by the sudden change. This was a terrible idea. I should’ve sold the house. I am such a silly fool. Okay. Take a few deep breaths. Match Cactus’s purring. You’re going to be okay.
“Ahh!” She jumped when a rapid knocking on the door jolted her. “For goodness sake.”
“Motts? You okay?”
She spun around and yanked the door open to find the welcome sight of her ex-girlfriend, Pravina Griffin, and Vina’s twin brother, Nish. “I’m….”
How do I finish the sentence? Panicked? In the middle of the biggest mistake I’ve ever made? Just slightly overcome by irrational fear?
Nish moved forward to take Cactus from her arms while Vina led her inside. “Amma is bringing over supper. She wanted to let the sambar simmer a little longer. She even made your favourite kind of rice.”
The Griffin twins took after their Tamil mother, Leena, who’d been a Bollywood star before falling in love with Cadan Griffin, a Cornish-Indian cricket player. They’d settled in Polperro to run a coffee shop and bakery. Griffin Brews had been around for thirty-plus years, and now their children managed it, allowing their parents to retire early.
Leena and Cadan had welcomed Motts with open arms even before she’d briefly dated their daughter. Motts and Vina had realised over the years that their close bond felt more like that of siblings. They’d dumped each other but remained the best of friends, where they’d started in the first place.
“Let’s talk about something less daunting than unpacking. How goes the dating life? Did you fill out a dating profile on the site I emailed you?” Vina plucked Moss, Motts’s turtle, out of his travel terrarium.
“Well?”
“No, I didn’t. There’s no box to check for asexual, biromantic autistic.” Motts gently took Moss to return her to a safer place. “No touching the turtle.”
Dahlia Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive collection of books and video games.
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Chasing Wild Horses
Wild Horse Ranch Book 1
by Mila Nicks
Genre: Contemporary Romance
A slow-burn romance between two outsiders from opposite worlds:
He’s the biggest outcast in town…
Chase Collins has never met a horse he didn’t like. Too bad he can’t say the same for people. In his hometown Lutton, his poor reputation follows him like a dark shadow. It’s best for everyone if he sticks to where he belongs. At least on Wild Horse Ranch, he’s safe from judgment. Then one day a familiar face from 10 years ago shows up out of the blue.
She’s a wanderer who comes and goes…
Samara Grant is a nomad at heart. She doesn’t like staying put for too long. But when her Grandma Bunny passes away, she has to put her carefree lifestyle on hold to handle her affairs. She might have spent childhood summers in Lutton, Texas, but it’s no place to live. She wants to get in and out as fast as possible. Little does she know life has other plans.
Together, they form an unbreakable bond…
After a series of near-death experiences, Samara decides to take back control of her life. She asks Chase to teach her how to ride. Neither expects to find common ground—and a fiery attraction—when Chase agrees. But their blossoming relationship isn’t celebrated by everyone. The closer Chase and Samara get, the more an unforseen enemy seeks to tear them apart...
The kiss kept him up at night. For hours he lay in his bed and stared up at the dark ceiling. He couldn’t close his eyes. The second he did the image of them flashed behind his lids. It replayed for him like a movie on a projector screen. Only that it felt too real; it had been real.
The sensations enveloped him. The earthy musk of rain hung in the air. The wet soil squelched under their boots, clumps of dirt now muddied. Raindrops clung to their skin and dampened their clothes until the soaked fabric weighed them down. His usually wooden exterior washed away as if an act by the rain itself. He wiped his face and blinked against the falling droplets, and there she was. Right in front of him with breathless curiosity.
He still couldn’t say what it was that came over him. His critical mind pressed pause. His heart thwacked against his rib cage at full speed. His eyes were wide and open for what felt like the first time. Hers were on his face, pools of deep brown that he got lost in. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached for her. His fingers clamped around her arm and they orbited each other. The pull was inevitable. Those full, dusky pink lips of hers begging to be kissed…
Can you, for those who don't know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?
It’s a long story, but I always knew I wanted to be an author. Even as a small girl, I remember rushing home to finish my homework so that I could spend the rest of the evening creating stories. I used to staple them into little books and give them away. But as I got older, I realized it wasn’t feasible to be an author. At least not if I wanted to make a decent living! It got put on the backburner for many years until finally last year, I decided I was going to jump in headfirst. I set a goal for myself that I would self-publish at least one novel by the end of the year. Fast forward another two months, I had finished the manuscript. Being an author is still very much a side gig for me right now, balancing author stuff with my main career and my master’s program.
What is something unique/quirky about you?
I don’t like pizza. I don’t like spaghetti. A lot of people seem to consider this a cardinal sin, ha ha! :)
Tell us something really interesting that's happened to you!
When I was 10-years-old I was attacked by a bat. To this day I’m terrified of them. It’s also funny because Batman is my favorite superhero, ha ha! I guess we have that phobia in common. But I’ll never forget when it happened. The bat got in through the kitchen window. Only my mom and I were home. Of course we both ran out the house screaming at the top of our lungs!
What are some of your pet peeves?
I’m big on manners. Lack of manners is definitely a pet peeve. Just basic stuff like not saying “thank you” or “excuse me”, holding doors when someone is right behind you, etc. That kind of stuff.
Where were you born/grew up at?
I was born in Southern California! I always say Los Angeles because non-SoCal people have never heard of the city otherwise, ha ha. I haven’t lived there since I was a teenager, but I’ll always be a Cali girl at heart! :)
If you knew you'd die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day?
The thing is, I don’t think I’d do anything differently. Maybe make sure I visit or call my mom, but otherwise I’d choose just being myself like any other day.
Who is your hero and why?
Definitely my mom. She has been through A LOT in her life, but has persevered every time. She is the definition of a strong woman.
What kind of world ruler would you be?
I’m a pretty even-keeled type of person, so I’d probably be that way as a world ruler. Of course, it’s one of those scenarios you’ll never know for sure because it’ll never happen. ;)
What are you passionate about these days?
Being an author! It’s a constant on my mind. I’m always thinking and talking about author stuff these days. I’m sure it’s annoying to anyone around me, he he.
What do you do to unwind and relax?
I’m big on TV. If I’m stressed, I will turn on one of my favorite shows and binge. It helps me turn my brain off for sure. I’m also the type of person who watches a bunch of different types of TV shows, and who can rewatch the same show a thousand times. Ask me how many times I’ve binged Brooklyn 99.
Mila Nicks, Author
Mila Nicks is an emerging romance author on a mission to pen heartfelt love stories
featuring women of color.
From the time she was a small girl with crayons and an overactive imagination, she’s had a passion for storytelling. In addition to receiving her Bachelor’s degree in Journalism, she is presently pursuing her MFA in Creative Writing. She has also
served her country in the United States Air Force.
When she isn’t penning uplifting love stories, you can find this imaginative writer traveling across the globe, sampling new cuisines, or spending quality time with her spunky pet Chihuahua, Zayden.
$15 Amazon gift card
