The saga of the Corrington brothers continues from the heart of San Francisco to Woodstock. Baby Blue takes the reader from the hippy movement through the post-war trials of returning Vietnam veterans.
Captain Donall Corrington: A Naval fighter pilot recovering from the physical and mental wounds from his time as a prisoner of war. Sitting on the dock of the bay, Donall meets Anablue Baker: A quirky flower child, alone and lost in the world. The Daughter of a vengeful admiral who has no problem using her for his gain. Anablue grieves for her twin brother lost to the horrors of war. Torn from the arms of the man she loves, terrified for her life, and to save her lover, Anablue flees to face her future on the run.
Captivated by her sky-blue eyes, nothing will stop Donall from righting the wrong of forbidden love. Returning to his arms the one woman he’s waited a lifetime to find.
Leesa Wright has again brought her love of history to life in this new 20th Century Historical Fiction Romance. Baby Blue is available now.
Come and be swept up in this romantic saga set amidst the tumultuous sixties. When a nation at war cries for peace and star-crossed lovers go on the adventure of a lifetime.
Leesa makes her home in the Twin Cities metro area with her husband and her two dogs Rosie and Jax.
When she isn’t writing she enjoys gardening, painting, and reading romance novels. She and her husband also enjoy movies, traveling, and entertaining their two grown children along with several beautiful grandchildren.
Leesa’s favorite romance authors are Kathleen Woodwiss, Christine Feehan, and Johanna Lindsey.
The book’s inspiration came one night from a dream about the characters, a song, and the story around them.
You’ve probably heard of me. Reclusive fantasy author turned famous when his series got developed into a mega TV hit. Except now I’m way behind deadline, and the whole world is waiting to see what I’ll write next. The pressure is getting to me, and I. Can’t. Write. Cue: small town where people don’t recognize me. Cue: my assistant insisting on a personal chef to keep me fed and nothing more. Cue: finding the first bit of inspiration I’ve felt in months whenever she’s around… Am I a walking cliche now, or what? Dani Cooper seems to have her own hurdles to jump this holiday season. Newly divorced, looking for her next move. She’s the first person who’s seen me for me in way too long. And I see her, too–as way more than just an employee, a divorcee, a cook. She’s becoming my muse… But when my Christmas deadline hits, will it spell the end of us, too?
Matt’s back and arms rose and fell with mine, in sync, as if we were one, solid organism. Each breath spread through my entire body—from my head into my lungs and all the way down deep into parts of me that had been dormant for way too long. This was more intimate than anything I’d done with my ex-husband in the months leading up to our divorce.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I said. “This is fun. Exercise.” Good lord, the rhythm of our breathing together was basically sexual.
“Now,” Una said softly, “lengthen your torso upwards and, exhaling, twist to your right and reach for your partners left knee.”
My shaking fingers grazed Matt’s thigh and walked forward, hunting for his knee. His hand found my knee right away, and he gripped it with his warm, strong hand.
I let out a hopefully inaudible gasp.
“With the next inhale,” Una said, “straighten your back some more, and then with your exhale, deepen the twist, using your partner’s knee as leverage.”
Matt’s back pushed harder against mine, as I gripped the hard ball of his kneecap. His breath continued to move with mine, a little faster now, as we strained into our mutual twist.
“Now relax into the pose.” Easier said than done, Una.. “Take a few more deep breaths.”
We did. My left eye met Matt’s, and he winked, diffusing the very palpable tension. I struggled not to laugh.
“On the next inhale, return to center.” Una waited a few beats. “On your exhale, twist to the left and find your partner’s right knee.”
Matt’s back muscles rippled against mine, as we turned to the other side. “This is the strangest thing I’ve ever done,” he whispered.
“Oh, I think this is just the tip of the iceberg.” I giggled.
“Shhh!” the person next to me hissed.
I turned toward them. “Sorry,” I said, but now I’d broken the dam. I tried to choke back a laugh, but it came out as a snort, which sent Matt into a laughing fit, too.
About Julie Hammerle:
USA Today bestselling author Julie Hammerle writes young adult novels that focus on nerds, geeks, and basket cases falling in love. On the YA side, she is the author of The Sound of Us (Entangled TEEN, 2016) and the North Pole romance series (Entangled Crush, 2017). For adult romances, look for Knocked-Up Cinderella in the fall of 2018. A graduate of Butler University with degrees in secondary education and Latin with a minor in music, Julie lives in Chicago with her family and enjoys reading, cooking, and watching all the television.
After a night of too many drinks, smokejumper Tony Warren and his best friend, photographer Kayla Gladney, come to the realization that they’re both bad at love. They even tried dating each other, but that crashed and burned, too. Now he’s got the hangover from hell and the certain conclusion he’s just a shit boyfriend. But Kayla thinks he’s a straight-up commitment-phobe.
So they make a bet—they’re going to hunt down his exes and decide once and for all why he’s so unlucky in love. Terrible boyfriend or commitment-phobe. Why does either answer feel like he’s still losing?
But between roadside burgers and late night detours, they discover some fires never burn out—like the one slowly smoldering between them. And suddenly losing feels a whole lot like winning again.
She was still talking with the bartender as he approached.
“I really don’t need all these,” she was saying. “It was just a joke. A silly bet.”
Tony slid onto the barstool beside her, none too graceful in his movements. His shoulder jarred hers, sending a strange jolt of electricity down his arm. “What’s a silly bet?”
Kayla gestured to the glasses. “I bet a bunch of the guys you and Becca had split. Sorry.”
He shrugged, not too concerned about it. “I’d bet against me, too.”
“I wasn’t betting against you, exactly—”
“Are you going to drink these?” He picked up one of the shots, which smelled vaguely like cinnamon.
A memory rippled through him—the cinnamon pine cones his mom tucked in baskets around the house at Christmas. His dad used to bitch about it, complaining the house smelled like a damn cinnamon bun, but five-year-old Tony had loved it.
He set the glass down quick, feeling his stomach pitch.
Kayla was studying him. “Wow, multiple beers and a shot? Since when do you get your drink on like this?”
“Since when is everyone my mom?”
There was some irony. His mom would be the last person to give a shit what he did, but Kayla didn’t need to know that.
No one did.
Kayla nudged one of the glasses in front of him. “I suppose you earned it.”
“By getting dumped, or by adding another notch to my shitty-boyfriend belt?” Which was probably the same thing.
“You’re not a shitty boyfriend.” She cocked her head, considering him. “I mean, yeah, you’ve got issues. Not that I have any room to talk on the relationship front.” Something dark flittered over her face, but it was gone before he could comment. “Anyway,” she said. “You’re a dude with serious commitment issues. Can’t fault a girl for not wanting to sit around indefinitely twiddling her thumbs.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t blame a single woman who’d dumped his sorry ass. Hell, he’d dump himself if he could.
He picked up the shot glass and knocked it back. The liquid burned hot and viscous down his throat, and he swallowed to make the feeling go away.
When he set the glass down, Kayla was watching him. “You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks for that.”
“You want the rest? I can drive you home.”
He looked at the shot glasses. Three more, each teeming with spicy liquid. He really shouldn’t have any more.
But the date on the calendar behind the bar had his heart wadding itself up in a tight ball. “How about a drinking game?” he heard himself say.
Kayla cocked an eyebrow. “A drinking game? Do you want to pretend we still have fake IDs, too?”
“Humor me. I need to earn those shots fair and square.”
She laughed, and Tony’s chest warmed at the sound. That was…different.
But it didn’t mean anything. Just some laughs with his best friend, plus the beers and cinnamon whisky he’d had already. What was that rhyme from college—beer to liquor, never sicker? Maybe the Fireball was a bad idea.
“Sure,” Kayla was saying. “What did you have in mind?”
“One of the rookies told me about this new one—did you ever play Flip, Sip, or Strip in college?”
Kayla surveyed the bar, and Tony noticed how blue her eyes were. Bright, like the sky as he pitched himself through the door of the aircraft. He thought about that breathless free fall and felt dizzy.
“Not that I’m opposed to public stripping,” she said, “but let’s not get kicked out of this place.”
“No, that’s not it—the clean version is called Flip, Sip, or Post.”
Kayla sipped something that looked suspiciously like water. “How does that go?”
Tony combed his brain to remember. “You start by flipping a coin. You can go first, since you’re a lady and all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Such a gentleman.”
He grinned, pretty sure she was kidding. “I call heads or tails, and if I’m right, it’s my turn to flip. If I’m wrong, you flip again. This time, if I get it wrong, I have to answer any question you ask me.”
“Any question?” Kayla lifted a brow. What did that mean? It’s not like they hadn’t bared all their secrets to each other.
Okay, not all his secrets. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Wait, no,” he corrected himself. “You answer the question if I get it right.” Or something like that. He was definitely messing this up. “Anyway, on the third flip, if I guess right, I take a shot.”
“And if you guess wrong?” she asked.
“You get to pick any social media platform or person and choose what I have to post or text.” Yeah, definitely a bad idea. But he trusted Kayla and knew she wouldn’t have him do anything too mortifying. “Like you tell me I have to text the third name in my contacts and say, ‘I like the smell of my own armpit.’ Or post to Facebook about how Mariah Carey is my favorite recording artist. That sort of thing.”
Kayla laughed, blue eyes flashing. “Take the booze out and the clean version sounds like a middle school game. This should be interesting.”
He’d been starting to think this was dumb, but that spark in her eyes had him thinking twice. Damn, she was pretty. No, not pretty—fun. Fun to be around. That’s what he’d always loved about her.
Kayla rummaged in her purse and pulled out a quarter. “You ready?”
About Tawna Fenske:
When Tawna Fenske finished her English lit degree at 22, she celebrated by filling a giant trash bag full of romance novels and dragging it everywhere until she’d read them all. Now she’s a RITA Award finalist, USA Today bestselling author who writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Publishers Weekly has praised Tawna’s offbeat romances with multiple starred reviews and noted, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”
Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, stepkids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She loves hiking, snowshoeing, standup paddleboarding, and inventing excuses to sip wine on her back porch. She can peel a banana with her toes and loses an average of twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year. To find out more about Tawna and her books, visit www.tawnafenske.com.
Ever since Lindsay Castillo was a little girl, she dreamed about living in Port City. As an adult, she learns the difficult lesson that dreams aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be. With a broken heart, an apartment full of boxes and a moving company booked, Lindsay jots down everything she wants to do before she leaves Port City and heads back home to start over.
She has a month to mark off everything on The Breakup Bucket List.
Evan Roberts is doing his best to live up to the high expectations that come along with having his last name. As Port City royalty, he’s been following a strict path to success since the day he was born. He’s looking for a little fun—something to shake up the monotony of his life—when he runs into Lindsay. He’s captivated by her and welcomes the challenge of helping her complete her bucket list.
It doesn’t take much convincing for Lindsay to agree; there are some things she wants to do before she moves that only someone with Evan’s access can help her with. What starts off as a simple partnership grows into more as Lindsay and Evan race against the clock and Lindsay’s moving day draws closer…
Cassie Cross is a Maryland native and a romantic at heart, who lives outside of Baltimore with her two dogs and a closet full of shoes. Cassie’s fondness for swoon-worthy men and strong women are the inspiration for most of her stories, and when she’s not busy writing a book, you’ll probably find her eating takeout and indulging in her love of 80’s sitcoms.