What’s new with Ava and Liam?


An update from Ava and Liam . . .

Hey! Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve caught up with you. So much has been going on.

As you know, Liam and I finally tied the knot in the most perfectly imperfect and beautiful Christmas wedding. We followed that up with the most incredibly romantic and sexy honeymoon ever known to man–or woman. Sigh . . .

Since then, life has been pretty damn sweet. With Liam’s support and encouragement, I left my job at the ad agency and launched my own social media promotion company. I’m not going to lie, the work’s been hard–and long–but the results have been amazing. I have a full roster of satisfied clients and a waiting list of interested people, too. I’ve just hired my third employee to help me handle all the business . . . and because I’m going to want to take a little time off soon, too.

Liam finished his graduate studies and is a full-fledged professor at Birch. He’s the professor all the students are dying to have, and not just because he’s so much fun to stare at while he lectures. He also has the unique ability to make the subject matter more interesting than anyone dreamed it could be.

With life going so well, we were also able to buy our first house. It’s a little fixer-upper not far from campus and near my new office, but it’s been so much fun to work on together. We’ve become expert painters and tile-layers. Well, expert might be going a little too far . . . 

Let’s see, what else is new?

My brother Vincent and Liam’s best friend Amanda surprised us a few months ago by throwing an impromptu wedding at my family’s restaurant down the shore. They had invited all of us to come down for dinner, claiming that we hadn’t gotten together as a family for a long time–which was true; we’ve all been super busy–and then once we were there around the table in the restaurant, they announced that right after we finished eating, Father Byers was coming over to perform the ceremony. We were all shocked, but honestly, it was the most perfect wedding for the two of them. Neither of them wanted a fuss, but they didn’t want to elope, either. (Probably because Vincent was afraid of my mom!) So we got to have a fun dinner and celebrate these two we love so much. It was a win-win! 

Julia and Jesse are still going strong. In addition to their sweet little girl Mia, my goddaughter, they just had TWIN boys. Julia is going absolutely nuts chasing after all three of the kids, but I think she’s loving every minute. She and Jesse are just as much in love now as they ever were, and we hang out together quite a bit. I’m so lucky to have such wonderful friends! 

Speaking of friends, Giff and Jeff are FINALLY engaged. Why did it take those two so long? I think Jeff was ready, but Giff wasn’t. He wanted to make sure he was firmly established in his business, which he totally is. Anyway, no quickie surprise nuptials for those two: they’re throwing a huge and very lavish bash in Philadelphia in February. And they’re also talking about adopting kids sooner than later, which is especially sweet because . . . 

We’re having a baby!! Yes, folks, you heard it here first. We’ve put off starting a family for a while, but the time is finally right. I’m about six months along, and I’ve never been happier. Liam walks around half the time like he’s the first guy to knock up his woman . . . and the other half of the time, he’s worried to distraction about me, about the baby, about how we’re going to adjust to being a family after it being just the two of us for so long. 

We’ve been setting up the nursery and picking baby names. We want to be surprised about the sex, but I have a feeling I’m carrying a boy. Liam doesn’t care, but I think he’s a little worried about having a son, considering the rocky relationship with his own father (who divorced his second wife about a year ago and has joint custody of their little girl). But I’m not worried. I know Liam is going to be the best father in the world. 

Well, that’s all the news here. My mom’s been making noises about having a big family reunion, so I hope we can catch up there–maybe with our new addition. 



Just Desserts

Liam Bailey is my sexiest dream and my worst nightmare, all rolled into one delicious, forbidden package.

I’m the girl with an iron-clad plan. Everything in my world is about succeeding, excelling, and making my large Italian family proud of me. That means graduating college with honors, landing the perfect job, and not letting anything–or anyone–get in my way.

But Liam is the guy who makes me want to break all my rules.

He’s the embodiment of all my naughtiest fantasies, with his incredible body, his brooding eyes and his tempting smile.

Liam’s also the sweet-talking, complicated son of a well-known politician, the big man on campus, the athlete, the rich guy who’s never had to work for anything in his life.

When I don’t fall into his lap like the other women do, I fully expect him to walk away. After all, why would a girl like me matter to someone like him?

But it turns out that Liam doesn’t give up easily. He’s not going to let our friends’ opinions, his parents’ disapproval, or my own walls get in the way of what he wants . . . which, apparently, is my heart.

Well, after all, rules were made to be broken.


I Choose You

Wedding bells are ringing for us. I hope.

The path of true love has sometimes been bumpy for Ava and me. I mean, I was her best friend’s ex-boyfriend, the son of a disgraced politician, and a former campus playboy. Ava was the hard-working, single-minded scholarship student with no time for romance. We were the couple least likely to succeed.

But almost two years later, love for us is better than ever. I’m pursuing my dream of being a college professor, and my girl Ava’s the rising star at a local ad agency. But I still have one more goal: I want to marry the girl who changed my life.

Neither of us realizes that making it to the big day might be our greatest challenge yet. Between my parents’ acrimonious divorce and Ava’s family’s ideas of how to plan the perfect wedding, it’ll take the strength of our love—and a little help from our friends–to see us through to happily-ever-after.

A Jingle Balls Excerpt!

A sneak peek of Under the Mistletoe, my story in JINGLE BALLS, releasing on Tuesday, September 29th!

Nurse practitioner Darcy Ryan and football hottie Jackson Carmichael spent one magical, sexy summer together seven years ago. Everything between them was perfect until he abruptly broke Darcy’s heart and left her bitter.

She hasn’t seen Jackson until today, when he showed up unexpectedly at the first meeting of the Jingle Balls Gala planning committee . . . shocking both of them.

I’m only vaguely aware of the discussions going on around me during the first half of the meeting. Oh, I nod and smile and say yes or no as I should. I’m taking notes, jotting down shit that I don’t think means anything. I’m fairly certain there won’t be a test, after all.

But all that’s happening with one part of my brain. Another part is busy cataloging everything about the man sitting across the table from me, noting his every move.

Eyes? Check. The same beautiful bright blue that would darken to nearly navy when he was aroused.

Lips? Check. The same sensual shape that used to draw cries of pleasure from me on the regular.

Jaw? Check. The same chiseled feature, only today it bears a fine, unmistakable and almost unbearably sexy scruff.

Chest? Check, and check, and check. It’s broader. More defined. Even through the golf shirt he wears, I can see his pecs, and fuck if I don’t want to use my tongue to trace them. I’m imagining doing just that when the chairperson clears her throat.

“Now, we need someone to head up the music committee.” Mrs. Lockhart’s manicured finger taps the table. “Let’s see. Who hasn’t . . . oh, Ms. Ryan.”

“Yes, what? I mean, yes. I can do it.” I pause, coughing a little. “I mean, sure, I’m happy to help with . . . ah, the—”

“The music,” Jackson finishes for me, and damn the man to hell, he has the audacity to wink at me as he says it! As if we’re in this together or some nonsense like that. “And you know, Mrs. Lockhart, I’ll join Darcy on that committee, if you don’t mind. It sounds like it would be a good match for my talents.”

Mrs. Lockhart glances at him with her brows drawn together, and then she nods, smiling. “Oh, yes, the famous rhythm of football players—you’re probably an excellent dancer, aren’t you? What with you being so . . .” She rolls one hand. “Physical. So . . .” She seems to have lost the knack for words.

I want to tell Jackson that no, he cannot be on the music committee. Or even better, I want to tell Mrs. Lockhart that I won’t be on the music committee. But before I can say anything, she’s announcing that we’ve made tremendous headway today, and isn’t that lucky . . . and the meeting is adjourned! She’ll see us in August!

Everyone stands up and begins gathering their papers and shit. I realize that I’m trapped. I need to get out of this room fast before Jackson can corner me. I hope that someone will talk to him, holding him up, and thank the Lord and the Blessed Virgin, the TV station guy does just that. I’m so relieved that I actually smile at Jackson—I hope he reads my triumph and a little bit of nanny-nanny-boo-boo in that expression—as I sweep out of the room.

Okay, I don’t so much sweep as I scamper as fast as my sandal-clad feet will carry me. But the point is, I get the hell out of Dodge, and fast. I’m waiting for the elevator, tapping my toe impatiently, when I hear his voice in the hall. Damn. He and television dude are slowing walking this way, and Jackson glances over the other man’s head, searching me out.

Come on, elevator, I silently beg. As if it is just awaiting my plea, the doors slide open. But of course, the car is filled with other people. And they’re slow getting out. Jackson’s getting closer. Dammit, dammit, shit and fuck. I’m mentally reciting swear words in my head as the last person steps from the elevator. Two others stand with me, and they both move to get in first. I follow close on their heels, and for a glorious moment, I think I’ve gotten away.

Then I hear the dreaded words. “Hold the elevator, please!”

The woman standing to my left hears Jackson, and to my dismay, she jabs the Door Open button.

“You know, they could just catch the next one,” I murmur, but she shoots me a glare that questions my upbringing and leans harder on that stupid button.

“Thanks.” Jackson and the other man nod to the button-pusher as they step in. I maneuver my way to the back corner. Maybe I can just stay on here and ride up and down until I’m sure Jackson has left the hotel.

No such luck. Jackson must be hip to my jive because he also moves to the back wall and turns to face me.

“Darcy, can I have a moment before you take off? We should probably talk about the music and decide the direction we want to take.”

I grit my teeth and nod.

When the elevator stops, everyone gets out. Jackson and I are the last two, and I guess he’s afraid I’m going to make a run for it because he curves his fingers around my upper arm. “Why don’t we just come over here?”

I let him guide me, mostly because if I don’t, it’ll make a scene. We end up in a small alcove, where Jackson turns my back to the wall and rests one arm over my head, looming over me.

“Darcy.” His eyes search my face. “God, I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“It is really me.” I cross my arms and stare at a point on his shoulder, which seems much safer than looking at his face or his chest. “What do you need?”

“What do I need? Well, for starters, I’d love to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”

I snort and roll my arms. “Avoiding you? Get over yourself, Jackson. I’m not avoiding you.”

“Is that why you’ve missed almost every Christmas dinner at Granny’s in the last seven years, and in fact, the only one you didn’t miss was the one when Seattle had the Christmas Day game, and I couldn’t be home?”

I lift one shoulder. “Coincidence, I guess. I’m a nurse practitioner, Jackson. We work all the holidays. People don’t stop getting sick just because it’s Christmas.”

“You’re ridiculous.” His voice is tight.

“Oh, I’m ridiculous?” My words might be a little louder and a little shriller than I planned. “God almighty, Jackson. I don’t even know where to begin with you. And I don’t have the time or energy to do it today. But maybe you should give some thought to why it’s not me who owes you an explanation. It’s exactly the opposite.”

He swallows. I can see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. When he speaks again, his voice is huskier. “Darcy, have lunch with me. C’mon . . . you’ve got to admit this is a crazy coincidence, the two of us being on this committee. Please. There’s a little restaurant looking right out over the beach. We can talk.”

I waver for a moment. He sounds so honest, so earnest, and yet . . . I can’t forget what he did to me. I can’t forget how he threw away my love, abandoned me and never even explained why.

So instead of answering, I duck under his arm and step away. “No, Jackson. I can’t. I’m tired—I just worked an overnight shift—and I need to go home.” I hesitate just a moment more and add, “I’ll be in touch about the music for the ball.”

“Will you?” he questions, his skepticism clear.

I glare up at him. “Yes, in fact, I will. Because I keep my promises.”

With that, I turn and leave.

Preorder now!

Book Lovers Unite for World Suicide Prevention Day 2020

September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day. Authors, readers, and bloggers are uniting again his year to fight stigma, spread mental health awareness, and support the prevention of suicide. To encourage participation, we’re giving away a $50 Amazon gift card and a Book Lovers Unite for World Suicide Prevention Day t-shirt to one lucky winner.

Two kinds of stigma continue to persist: public stigma and self-stigma. Public stigma occurs when other people view a person with a mental illness in a negative way. Public stigma feeds into self-stigma when people with mental illness internalize the negative talk they hear from others.

Well-meaning people say things like, “Suck it up,” “Choose to be happy,” “Turn that frown upside down,” or “Focus on your blessings,” as if mental illness were a mood, a frame of mind, or an attitude that can simply be overcome at will.

Often, people who suffer from mental illness blame themselves instead of seeking help. Just as a diabetic needs insulin, a person with mental illness may need treatment.

People who contemplate suicide don’t want to die; they just can’t fathom how to live because they are so miserable. They can’t see past their pain and misery, and they see no point in going on.

According to the International Association for Suicide Prevention, “Every year, suicide is among the top 20 leading causes of death globally for people of all ages. It is responsible for over 800,000 deaths, which equates to one suicide every 40 seconds.”

IASP explains that “[e]very life lost represents someone’s partner, child, parent, friend or colleague. For each suicide approximately 135 people suffer intense grief or are otherwise affected. This amounts to 108 million people per year who are profoundly impacted by suicidal behaviour. Suicidal behaviour includes suicide, and also encompases suicidal ideation and suicide attempts. For every suicide, 25 people make a suicide attempt and many more have serious thoughts of suicide.”

If you’re contemplating suicide, please don’t do it! Instead, seek help. You might be suffering now, but you never know what tomorrow brings. Reach out to a friend or family member. See a doctor. If that doctor doesn’t help, try another. Please don’t give up.

If you’re in crisis, please reach out to the toll-free hotline in your region. You can find your hotline here: https://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres/.

If you are grieving the death of a victim of suicide and need help, here are resources that can help: https://www.iasp.info/resources/Postvention/National_Suicide_Survivor_Organizations/.

If you suspect that someone you know may be contemplating suicide, please reach out. We often hesitate because we’re afraid we might make things worse by saying the wrong thing. According to IASP, “Evidence suggests that this is not the case. The offer of support and a listening ear are more likely to reduce distress, as opposed to exacerbating it.”

Warning signs to look for include severe anxiety, agitation, hopelessness, rage, feelings of being trapped, a strong urge for vengeance, engaging in risky activities, excessive alcohol and/or drug use, withdrawing from people, trouble sleeping, and dramatic mood changes.


Book lovers from all over the world have joined together to share their stories and spread mental health awareness. Please follow this tour guide to find our posts and to enter our giveaway for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card and a Book Lovers Unite for World Suicide Prevention Day 2020 t-shirt:


P.D. Workman, Author

Triple A Book Blog

Jessica Burkhart, Author

Here Is What I Read Blog

Crossroad Reviews

Jazzy Book Reviews

Book Corner News and Reviews

I Love Books and Stuff Blog

Luv Saving Money

Debbie Manber Kupfer, Author

Ash Ineski, Author

Allie Burton, Author

Book Butterfly in Dreamland

Sara Crawford, Author

Tawdra Kandle, Author

Quinn Loftis, Author

Kat’s Indie Book Blog

Day Leitao, Author

Steph Weston, Author

Lanie Bynum, Author

L.B. Carter, Author

Holly and Mistletoe

Eva Pohler, Author



From September 1-10, enter for a chance to win a $50 Amazon gift card and a Book Lovers Unite for World Suicide Prevention Day t-shirt. There are lots of ways to enter below–choose one or all. You can also tweet daily for extra entries. We’ll email the winner by September 11th.

[Here is the html for the giveaway:]

<a class=”rcptr” href=”http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/72abbf8f39/” rel=”nofollow” data-raflid=”72abbf8f39″ data-theme=”classic” data-template=”” id=”rcwidget_l5f81k3j”>a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>

<script src=”https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js”></script>

[Or use this link:]



  1. On September 10th at 8 p.m. your time, light a candle to remember all those we have lost to suicide and to represent the hope of preventing suicide. People all over the world will be participating. You can send an ecard in 63 different languages to invite others to participate. Find the ecards here.
  2. Purchase a Book Lovers Unite for World Suicide Prevention Day 2020 for $20. For every shirt sold, five dollars is donated to the International Association for Suicide Prevention. Order yours here.
  3. Spread the word about this giveaway, to encourage more people to read our posts and tweet about overcoming stigma. Use the share buttons at the bottom of this post, and

Click to tweet: #EntertoWin a $50 #giftcard and #Tshirt while fighting #stigma and spreading #mentalhealthawareness for #suicideprevention #WSPD.


Here are videos on suicide and mental helath that I have found to be helpful:

The Bridge Between Suicide and Life

You’re Still Here: Living After Suicide

This Is for All of You in a Dark Place

Suicide Is Preventable

A very personal post

This was sent out as a newsletter this morning, September 1st. 

Dear friends,

I often begin my newsletters to you this way because, in my mind, you are my friends. I share my stories with you, I let you in on behind-the-scenes action, and I often fill you in on stuff going on in my family. You saw the first pictures of my granddaughter, and you encourage me when things are tough.

Of course, most of us have not met one another. Mostly, we know each other through this interchange of words and ideas. Some of you might follow me on social media, too, and then you’d know a little more about me and how I think.

What I’m sharing today is primarily for my fellow Americans. My beloved friends around the world . . . you’re welcome to read along, too.

A few years ago, when things took a turn in my country, I was advised to keep everything in my professional world apolitical. I was cautioned not to let my opinions and beliefs bleed through in my social media, website, newsletter, and books. For the most part, I’ve heeded this advice. My author page remains non-political. My newsletters are always filled with bookish things. I don’t go down political roads in my books.

If you are friends with me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter, you probably know where I stand on some important topics. But I’ve done my best not to let that show in my author persona.

However, a few things have happened recently that have caused me to question this way of doing things.

First of all, when I released The Anti-Cinderella books, I received a small backlash from readers who accused me of ‘shoving that climate crap’ down readers’ throats. Now, to my way of thinking, I wasn’t shoving anything. Yes, Kyra went to school for sustainable agriculture–and I gave her that course of studies because my youngest daughter majored in that. Sustainable ag and sustainability as a whole are passions for my family. But nowhere did Kyra or Nicky proselytize about climate change to the reader–what happened between them and other characters was based on things that have really happened to us, and it was part of their story. This is fiction, but it is inspired by people and events in my own life. That’s my process. I wasn’t making a political statement. I was telling a story.

And then came this year. Oh, my friends, this has been a hard year for all of us. I’ve seen the suffering caused by the pandemic and by the escalation of racial tensions in my country. I’ve cried over George, Ahmaud, and Breonna. I’ve struggled with intense rage over the ignorance of some of my fellow Americans. I’ve seen division and anger and bullying and shameful behavior on the part of our nation’s leadership.

This past weekend, three things happened.

Chadwick Boseman died.
Jim Gaffigan spoke out on Twitter.
I sent an email about football books.
Chadwick Boseman dying would have been a tragedy at any time, but in 2020, it takes on added meaning. I’m not going to delve into the whys and wherefores of that. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. His loss struck deep for me, and judging by the overwhelming response around the world, I’m not alone.

Jim Gaffigan is one of my family’s favorite comedians. We’ve listened to and laughed with him for years. At the end of last week, he began tweeting . . . and well, better to read the story in his own words.

Something Jim wrote as he unpacked his Twitter time struck a nerve for me. So if I believe I won’t sway any voters, why speak out like I did? Honestly, I feel I had no choice at this point. I think Trump is ruining and possibly has already ruined my country. For me this isn’t a debate about the size of government, taxes, health care or even abortion. I miss the days when those were the topics I would discuss with friends. I feel a responsibility to coming generations, my children but selfishly I didn’t want to explain to my grandchildren that I didn’t fight to stop Trump. Maybe they will see that I stood up for decency, rule of law, and equality. That’s way more important to me than selling out an arena.

Responsibility. The word resonated within me. What have I done to fulfill my responsibility to generations to come? How have I been a positive force in this dangerous world? How have I been a light in a world of hatred? I’ve shared posts. I’ve tweeted. I’ve worked for my party during elections.

But have I even begun to sacrifice? I think not.

And then there was the football email.

I think I write about topics that are pretty middle-of-the-road. You know romance is my gig. If you don’t like kissing (AND MORE!!) and sweet nothings and happy endings (most of the time), then you shouldn’t read my books. Some are paranormal; if that spooks you, don’t worry, there are plenty of non-para books of mine out there, too. If you like small-town America, I’ve got a bunch of books you might enjoy.

At one time, I worried that my military romances might offend some people, but silly me–it’s not those. It’s the football books.

Now, you know I love me some football. It’s why fall is my season. I. Love. The. Game. In the past few years, I’ve struggled with this love for a few reasons: the safety and health of the players as we learn more about Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE), and the way Black athletes have been treated by management and how management has so often dismissed the social justice calls of the players.

This weekend, I received a slew of response to my football-themed newsletter, telling me that they won’t watch the game or read the books because football is catering to the ‘criminal terrorists of the BLM’. Some of these emails were mean and nasty. Some called me names. Some were just filled with ignorance. These emails made me very sad.

So this was my click. It doesn’t matter how apolitical I am. It doesn’t matter how often and sweetly I smile and mind my own business, as one reader advised me to do, because no matter what, people are going to take offense at something. And I realized that the people who are working to erode the rights of others, who are standing for prejudice, sexism, racism, fascism, and a bunch of other distasteful -isms . . . they’re not worried about offending me.

I’m tired of worrying about it. And what’s more, I realize that it’s time for me to stop cowering behind ‘what’s good for my career’ and own my convictions.

If you’ve read this far, you might ask yourself, does she really think her decision matters? No, probably not to most of the world. I’m one romance writer in a sea full of them, and the universe is hardly waiting with bated breath to see what I do.

Or maybe it is. Maybe the universe does depend on small decisions like this, on the tiny courage of insignificant people like me, in order to turn the tide of righteousness. I don’t know. It’s possible. Madeleine L’Engle would say it counts.

Will I lose readers? Most likely. That’s okay. If you’re offended by football players and farmers, you probably wouldn’t stick around long anyway. Also, many of you won’t even open this email, so . . . there’s that! And in the end, to paraphrase Jim Gaffigan, owning my beliefs out loud is more important than selling a few books.

Now, here’s the caveat, if you’ve hung around this long. I’m not planning to turn my books, my newsletters, or my author social media into an endless political debate. I’m not planning to change anything, as a matter of fact. My newsletters will still be about books and characters and fluff. That’s what’s fun. The characters in my books won’t be leading marches or attending rallies or delivering long soliloquies on politics or religion.

I don’t want to argue with you, and I’m not trying to change your mind. Please don’t try to change mine.

But I’m not going to pretend that I don’t care anymore. I do care. I care about my Black sisters and brothers. I don’t claim to understand what they’ve lived with, what it’s like to be Black in this nation, but I stand with them now, and I will do whatever I can to learn so I can be better and do better.

I care about the future of my country. I care about electing leaders who embody HOPE, not those who gain power by playing on fear. I want to work to unify my nation in truth and justice for ALL, not just for some. I want to make this world better for my grandchildren, so that they will have clean air and water and the freedom to be who they are, love who they want, and live lives of fulfillment and peace.

It is fitting for me to end this with the words of King T’Challa as played by the incomparable Chadwick Boseman:

Now, more than ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another as if we were one single tribe.

Peace and love, my friends. If this is the end of our road together (the unsubscribe link is below my signature), go with God. If you’re going to stick around . . . thank you. We’ll keep having fun. <3