When hot actor Brem Lockwood enters her life, Madelyn has a choice—stay safe with an online fling or risk her heart for a chance at real love.
Divorcee Madelyn Stacilli has baggage deeper than the Grand Canyon, and her move to New Haven to start a new life is the perfect change she needs. When vicious gossip stunts her plans to open her own business, she can’t confide in anyone around her. But online, beneath the blanket of anonymity, she can let loose and find comfort with the mysterious Easton216. Their natural, open relationship is a breath of fresh air.
When British A-list actor Bremond Lockwood rents the house beside her to escape an intense media spotlight and malicious past, he charges headlong into her life. Madelyn grows torn between her steady, emotional online connection and a fiery affair with a Hollywood star. Brem’s intense passion ignites the embers of her sexuality from a long slumber, making her burn hotter than the sun.
Should she stay safe with her online love or risk her heart with the man in front of her? The road to recovery just got a whole lot more complicated.
Reader advisory: This book contains a scene of public sex and a scene of kidnapping. There is mention of gaslighting, alcoholism, emotional abuse, animal cruelty, and attempted murder.
Roxanne D. Howard is a U.S. Army veteran who has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and children. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.
“What do you truly desire?” Lucifer asks in the Netflix series.
As a romance writer, I ask the same question. Of course, I don’t have a suspect at hand, the potential readers of my story are safe at home, so I just ask the question to myself: What would the reader truly desire in this story? Luckily, the answer differs with every story. If I’m writing a cowboy romance, I see tough men, courageous and willing to best the wilderness to save their women. But when I write a romance with something like “behind the mask” as a theme, I see secrets and seduction, subtle smiles and surprises. And I can smell the leather and feel the wind with biker romance and so on.
Ah, writing romance is never boring! It’s always different and trying to get in the mind and soul of the reader, to seduce and titillate – yes even arouse – her (or him… or them) is wonderful. I guess every writer likes to manipulate and surprise the reader a little. I know I do.
I haven’t always been a romance writer, and I still don’t write exclusively romance. Quite a few years ago, I started writing fantasy, science fiction, and horror short stories. In time, I branched out to genres like children’s stories, crime, and thrillers. Although I’m a short story writer at heart, I’ve done five fantasy novels, which had some romance.
For those who don’t know, I’m Dutch. I live in the lovely old city of Den Haag, the Netherlands. Although I had done a few English stories, back in 2015 I started writing in English in earnest.
Oh my, I felt like a kid in a candy store. The Dutch market for short stories is almost non-existent and very limited to a few genres. But the American and British markets! Wow! So many anthologies, so many genres—woohoo!!!!
I started writing romance stories. Well…kind of. Some anthologies were asking for horror-erotica and I thought: Hey, that’s interesting! Combining two strong emotions—lust and fear.
So I wrote horror-erotica for a while. I’m not really into slasher stuff, so I tried to keep it terrifying and sensual. It more or less came down to BDSM with monsters, which was great fun to do. Vampires yearning for the pain of sunlight, the werewolf wanting to tear apart his human mistress, a dark god doing knife play with two-feet-long fingernails on the body of his acolyte. Creepy and erotic. Trust me.
Through a path of weirder and weirder erotica (tentacle erotica, steampunk erotica, Cthulhu Mythos erotica, furry erotica to name a few) I also entered the field of more general romance/erotica. Stuff that could work in the real world, with real people. And hey, that was great fun, too!
I’ve been asked if the romance I write is based on my own experiences. Well, I wish! But for a part, they are inspired by real life.
I just came back from the dentist and walked back to the bus stop. A new crown, all was well. It was a sunny September day in The Hague, behind the Peace Palace, the neighborhood with all the embassies.
She was a pretty girl. No, a young woman. Slender, blond, some sporty, braided hairdo. Black suit-like outfit, without being really a suit. She was speaking on her phone.
“No, I can’t take public transport; I forgot my mouth masks.”
I turned to her. Shaven head, huge mirror shades, twice her age. But hey, today I wore a nice shirt, nice trousers.
“You want one?” I asked.
It took a short moment for her to realize what I was offering.
She smiled. “No thank you, I’m fine.”
I nodded and walked on.
I heard her say into her phone. “No, this nice gentleman was offering me a mouth mask.”
I smiled. Some courtesy, a nice thank you. All was fine.
The writer in me could think of a thousand different outcomes. Okay, a few dozen, probably. But I was happy with reality.
Offering a mouth mask. It was a nice pick-up line in these Corona times. I guess I wasn’t ever going to use it for real, but maybe I would use it in a story, one day.
Happy I took the bus home. Mouth mask and all.
This happened to me a while ago, and one day, I’ll use some of it for a story. Maybe with a different outcome…
#
You can find my stories in several anthologies, available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/jaapboekestein.com. Of course, there is the lovely First Response: A Boys Behaving Badly in which I have a story about a pair of handcuffs and the importance of keeping track of keys. [Delilah, can we have the cover and a link to amazon here? — Of course! 🙂 DD]
The 1960s were turbulent and passionate and colorful. Since the first time I put pen to paper, about thirteen years ago, I’ve wanted to write a story set in those vibrant days. But until recently, every time I tried, my efforts seemed weak and whimsical at best. And then I visited a town I’d all but forgotten about.
In the Black Hills of central Arizona (yes, I said Arizona), Jerome hangs on the side of a mountain as it has since the mining days of the 1800s. Once known as the wickedest town in the west, Jerome all but died out in the 1950s. The population dipped to under 100 people. Then the hippies discovered the abandoned homes and buildings and settled in to create a ghost town full of art and wine. No new buildings are allowed within the city limits unless they are constructed on existing foundations and must resemble the surrounding buildings. Jerome looks much like it did in the 1920s.
Me in a haunted hotel in Jerome
I love this place. Jerome became my fictional Joshua. The inspiration came alive for me, and The MacKenzie Chronicles resulted.
In the pages of the first book, Secrets of the Ravine, I was able to tell a 1960s story of those early hippie settlers that has an impact on the mystery that unfolds in today’s world. Each of the three books will tell the story of one of the MacKenzie siblings whose parents met in the 60s hippie heyday, stayed in Joshua, and raised Magpie Muse MacKenzie, Harlan Muse MacKenzie, and Elidor Muse MacKenzie. Dad Frank Harlan MacKenzie is an artist of metal and wood. Mom Susie Muse is a mystic, empath, aura reader, with all of the wonderful mind-expanding fascinations of the 60s. Their children have inherited both artistic abilities and mystical talents in varying degrees. Those gifts will help them solve murder and mystery in each book.
Do you believe in intuition? Empathic vibrations? How about clairsentience (“clear feeling,” describes someone who receives intuitive or psychic information through their tactile sense and emotions)? I do and have had some real-life experiences. Care to share yours with us? Please do. We’d love to hear.
Give me a one or two-sentence review right here, and I’ll enter you in a drawing to receive an eBook. No matter what you think, you have a chance to win. Let’s leave it open for a week, and I’ll draw a winner on October 5th out of those who comment about the first chapter.
Secrets of the Ravine
When a ringer for her long-dead love walks into her life the same day skeletal remains are found at the edge of town, Magpie MacKenzie can’t ignore what the universe is telling her…solve the mystery, or become the next victim.
Lawyer Zack Peartree’s life is orderly and entanglement-free until he visits purportedly haunted Joshua, Arizona, and meets free-wheeling shopkeeper Magpie. Despite experiencing troubling visions and odd moments of déjà vu, Zack’s instantly drawn to Magpie and to the unsolved murder which troubles her so.
Using clues from her father’s past and Zack’s déjà vu moments, Magpie and Zack race to solve the mystery, avoid a murderous fate, and to discover their future…together.
Brenda Whiteside is the author of suspenseful, action-adventure stories with a touch of romance. Mostly. After living in six states and two countries—so far—she and her husband have decided they are gypsies at heart, splitting their time between Central Arizona and the RV life. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW is fishing, Brenda writes.
The phrase “return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear” was made famous by announcer Fred Foy, introducing the adventures of the old Lone Ranger and Tonto on radio and television. But for me, it’s a clarion call to lose myself in that wonderful time machine called history.
Twenty-seven years ago, I pastored a small church in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn. Nazarene United Church of Christ sits on the corners of Patchen Avenue and MacDonough Street. Often as I walked to do pastoral visits on the other side of Atlantic Avenue, I passed several wooden houses and wondered what they were, who had lived there. I learned they were the remnants of Weeksville, a community founded by free-Blacks in the 1830s. In the three years I served Nazarene, I never once got to visit them.
On my last trip back to New York, I visited the Brooklyn Historical Society and discovered Judith Wellman’s wonderful book, Brooklyn’s Promised Land: The Free Black Community of Weeksville, New York. She transported me back to the thrilling days of yesteryear on streets inhabited by the residents of a thriving Black community of ministers, doctors, landowners and entrepreneurs, streets I’d walked and intersections I’d crossed. The community’s residents strove to develop pride in self and place. It served not just as enclave for themselves but a refuge for many from the Southern violence of slavery in the South or Northern violence like the Manhattan draft riots of 1863. In 1968, a workshop sponsored by Pratt Institute led to the rediscovery of this historical safe haven.
How odd that I, who grew up in the Brooklyn neighborhood of East New York, chose to write historical romance about Blacks in the far West when Blacks west of East New York were much closer at hand. From my research done at the Brooklyn Historical Society, the Schomburg, and through Wellman’s book I wrote the novella Light The Fire Again for the Fireworks: A Passionate Ink Romance Anthology. Fred Foy’s call to return now to those thrilling days of yesteryear in the West, draws me west to Weeksville and to the thrilling stories Weeksville inspires me to write. A reimagined Gilded Age Weeksville is now the setting of my women’s fiction series of novels that I’m adapting from Wagner’s Ring cycle operas.
I didn’t get to visit the Weeksville Heritage Center last October. There’s always next year, I thought. I’ll be glad when I can tour Weeksville in the flesh, not just on the Heritage Center’s website: https://www.weeksvillesociety.org/.
I hope you will tour the original Weeksville houses and listen to one man reminisce about his childhood home there on the videos listed below:
Thanks for letting me share. Now, how about you share in the comments what you’ve learned about the history of your people or your neighborhood or your family. Everyone who does will be entered into a drawing for a $10 Amazon gift card.
Light the Fire Again
One night in 1896 between delicious rounds of oral sex, Adelaide Hanson and Hero Williams shared their hopes and dreams. She to be an artist like Edmonia Lewis. He to amass great wealth. Hero went off to start a fireworks business. Adelaide remained in Weeksville hampered by a ruined reputation until a doctor’s examination proved her still a virgin.
Two years later, Hero, now a self-made millionaire, returns to share his wealth with the community that sheltered his family from the violence of the Post-Reconstruction South. He has also returned hoping to ask Adelaide for her hand. She, however, is anticipating a marriage proposal from the son of one of the Black community’s most prominent families, despite his mother’s disapproval. Hero begs for a chance to change Adelaide’s mind. Although still in love with him, she is unwilling to risk her heart and societal opprobrium again. Then Hero makes an offer he hopes she won’t refuse: a chance to revive what they shared two years ago by viewing a private fireworks display designed especially to light the fire between them again.
Light the Fire Again is one of seven steamy fireworks-featuring romances in the Fireworks anthology, proceeds from which will go to ProLiteracy, an adult literacy organization. So enjoy some great sex while supporting a great cause.
Red and white checkered tablecloths fluttered gently in the warm July breeze. Summer sunlight glinted off glass pitchers brimming with iced tea, lemonade and water. The event attendees had filtered out of the hall and were lining up at the collation tables. Everyone grinned and smacked their lips as the delicious scents of collards, cornbread and fresh-baked biscuits, sweet potatoes, and chicken, both baked and fried, filled the air.
Adelaide’s stomach growled. She pressed a fist against her gut to quiet it. She hadn’t had breakfast and regretted offering to help serve.
“Hurry up Adelaide,” Emmaline Thompson barked. “Set those platters beside the others, go back for the last tray then be ready to serve.”
Adelaide bristled, tempted to deliver a tongue lashing of her own but kept silent and complied.
Reverend Johnson, Hero and several clergy and civic leaders headed for a white linen-covered table decked with red, white and blue ribbons set aside for the guest of honor.
Hero glanced her way, catching her eye. He smiled. Not a broad enjoy-your-day smile, but a narrow I-remember-you grin.
She remembered him too.
Her stomach growled again, this time from a different hunger.
She speared chicken on to plate after plate, forcing a smile with every “You’re welcome” she said to each guest served. The letter in her pocket gave her no reason to smile.
Reverend Johnson had given her the envelope in his office. She recognized Hero’s handwriting immediately. If Reverend Johnson hadn’t been present she’d have ripped it up. She’d shoved it in her pocket, planning to do just that when the minister asked her to please open it then and there.
The envelope contained two pieces of paper: one an article from the Brooklyn Eagle announcing the reason for Hero’s return to Weeksville. His family, known for their generosity to causes dedicated to uplifting the Negro race, had several monetary gifts for their former neighborhood. The reporter recounted the family’s harrowing escape from the South then chronicled their rise to wealth. Their most recent success was attributed to the series of fireworks Hero had designed over the last two years. The article ended by quoting Hero.
“Yes, God has blessed us with success, but I’ll be forever grateful to a muse who inspired me late one August night.”
Adelaide re-read the quote several times. Just seeing the words “August night” set her sex pulsing. She laid the article aside and read the second piece of paper. A hot fist of awakening curled low in her belly as she mouthed its simple words.
Hi! My name is Bernadette Jones and I’m one of seven authors in the Aspen Gold Series.
I thought you might like to know what it’s like writing in a multi-author continuity series. It’s a blast! It’s also hard work.
Some series are set up on a thread, such as stolen artifacts. The first author starts the storyline then hands it off to the next author who pulls the idea a little farther and hands it off again. Another popular premise is a baby series where every book has a baby, finds a baby or adopts a baby. Or maybe the binding factor is they all have a ranch or were in the secret service together. You get the idea.
We chose to build our series around a family and a town. The nucleus of the Aspen Gold Series is the founding family of Spencer, Colorado. Jakob Spencer is the patriarch of the Spencer family and owner of Aspen Gold Lodge, an exclusive retreat. Each of the first six books was based on Jakob Spencer, one of his children or a grandchild. Each author was (and still is) tasked with having a tie back to the main family or the town where cousins and friends still live. Many of the characters are coming home to their roots.
My first book started with Hunter Jakob Lawe, one of the grandsons. He made friends that now surround his minor nucleus. Cheryl St John started with the Cavanaugh cousins. Each of the authors is gradually forming their own entourage of characters, but we all meet up in the town of Spencer at the bank, grocery store or coffee shop.
An extension of the premise for a series of books is the voice or type of books that will be written. For instance, in some series all the stories are sweet romance or romantic suspense, perhaps paranormal. Going back to our town concept, we decided that towns are a little bit country and a little bit rock-n-roll. Our authors and town are sweet, homey, dangerous, sexy, diverse, and even a touch paranormal. Basically, real life.
Fun! Yes, but this is also where the work comes in because it’s not just about family or our own individual books. Now we have hairdressers, doctors, policemen, firemen, lawyers, bartenders, waitresses, school kids, dance instructors. Did I mention we have two grocery stores, a cupcake shop, a candy store, an ice cream shop, two diners, a donut shop, a sub shop, fine Italian dining, two banks, three art studios…
We have a town populated with over 320 named characters.Think of it as if we were working together to build a village with interconnecting plastic blocks. Each of us needs to know what the other is doing. How do we manage that?
Next time, I’ll tell you about the Town/Character Playbook. Until then, come visit Spencer, in the Aspen Gold Series. Books thirteen and fourteen will be out later this year, and we already have a full schedule for next year.
Lonely Eyes
There is an art to pursuit.
Keira is running out of time. The handsome stranger with a dragon tattoo says he can keep her safe, but he doesn’t know the demons on her trail… Will her mysterious past lead her to escape, or drag her back to living hell?
Owen Strong has suffered tragedy, but he’s made a new family in Spencer, Colorado—one he will protect at all costs. When he finds determined Keira Hoa, she rouses more than just trouble. Looking into her lonely eyes, he sees that everyone’s in danger.
But she’s come to the right place. He’s the monster hunter.
Romantic Suspense Writer, Never Give Up-er, First Wives Club-er, Lifelong Dream Achiever & Mom
Bernadette Jones has been making up stories since she learned to read on her daddy’s lap. She has imagined casts of characters everywhere she’s called home: Texas, Oregon, Washington, South Dakota, Nebraska, Illinois, Massachusetts, and now New York.
Books and music filled her life as she, her dad and two brothers traveled the country. She would sit in the back seat of the car—her older brother always got to ride shotgun—listening to the current music on the radio, looking out the window and spinning a story based on a phrase she’d heard in the lyrics. As you can imagine, traveling the country, the music changed from state to state, as did the stories. To this day, she enjoys a wide variety of music and book genres.
After a career in corporate writing, she’s decided to settle down and put pen to paper doing what she loves. Living the dream in her NYC apartment with her canine companion, she’s bringing her stories and characters to life.
The Forgotten Brotherhood is my latest series. This is a truly diverse group of characters. It’s been challenging, maddening, and downright fun at times to watch their stories unfold. Now BURNING ASH, book three of the series, is finally here!
Who are the Forgotten Brotherhood? They’re a group of paranormal assassins, the misfits that other paranormal creatures fear. They aren’t the monsters lurking under the bed. They’re the ones that kill them. They live by a strict code: Kill only those that truly deserve it and let their gods sort them out. Kill them before they kill you. Never, ever betray a fellow assassin.
Burning Ash
Forgotten Brotherhood, Book 3
No one is more surprised than Asher, one of the oldest vampires on Earth, that he’s attracted to vamp hunter Jo Radcliffe. She’s smart, a talented slayer, and she’s gorgeous. Something about her pulls at him, like no one ever has before. For a man, whose name strikes fear in everyone––this is something new and intriguing. And quite possibly deadly, if she discovers his secret.
Jo has two things in common with the handsome Asher––they are both slayers and someone is messing with them in a very-much-trying-to-kill-them way. She’s not so happy about joining forces with a dude she doesn’t know. But he’s sexy as hell and really good at his job as one of the Forgotten Brotherhood, whose business it is to execute misbehaving paranormals.
She knows she’s bait in a larger plot to harm Asher and the Brotherhood. And there is nothing he won’t do, no line he won’t cross, to keep her safe––which may be the weakness that destroys them both.
Excerpt from Burning Ash…
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded of the tall, lean man who was still mostly in the shadows. Whoever he was, he was dangerous, maybe even more so than the creature she’d just beheaded. He’d come out of nowhere and snatched the crossbow bolt out of the air like it hadn’t even been moving.
A shiver raced down her spine.
Dressed all in black, he blended with the dark. She hadn’t known he was there until he’d deliberately come forward. And she always had total situational awareness. It was a matter of survival.
Her profession had a very high mortality rate.
A nudge of his foot sent the vampire’s head rolling back toward the body. The undead would need to be burned if he didn’t start disintegrating soon, but she was keeping her distance from the man in black.
“Asher.” He gave her a half bow. “And you are?”
A quick shake of her head. “You don’t need to know.”
“That hardly seems fair considering I saved your life.”
“It didn’t need saving,” she asserted. “I’d already moved.”
“True,” Asher conceded. “You’re fast, but I didn’t know that. I should get points for the attempt.” He sauntered out of the dark and fully into the candlelight. The flames flickered over his face, exposing a strong jaw, straight nose, and high forehead. His blond hair was pulled back in a short tail at his nape. His skin was olive-toned or tanned, hard to say. Piercing brown eyes stared at her.
Good looking was much to tame. Handsome didn’t fit either. There was something dangerous and predatory lurking beneath the surface. Primal. Compelling. Yeah, that was it.
It was time for her to leave.
“While I appreciate the assist, I’ve got this.” She jerked her head toward the door, hoping he’d take the hint.
A ghost of a smile flickered on his full lips before it disappeared. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”
“Great,” she muttered.
His laugh slid down her spine, a whisper of heat. Her nipples puckered and rubbed against her bra. Uh. No. The last thing she needed was some kind of fatal attraction. Because he was one of two things—a fellow hunter or another vampire. Neither of which were good for her.
“Come now, I’ll help you clean up this mess. Then we can get a cup of coffee somewhere, maybe talk.”
“It’s almost one in the morning. Nothing around here is open.” God, she was tired. She just wanted to fry this vampire and leave. Usually they disintegrated fairly quickly. This one was taking his sweet time. He either wasn’t truly dead yet or he was very young. The older they were, the quicker they turned to ash.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
It was the summer of 1993, and I was fifteen years old when Sleepless in Seattle came out in theaters. I honestly don’t even remember trailers on TV for it, so I don’t remember ever anticipating seeing it, but my parents liked going to the movies as a family and this was the one they chose that weekend. I remember a lot of the movies we saw when I was in high school because back then, there was no internet, no Netflix, no streaming shows of any kind. If it wasn’t on cable or out at the Blockbuster, you didn’t see it. Some of the movies I sat through just because it was something to do, were not my favorites. The Bodyguard (first date I ever went on!). Death Becomes Her. The Nightmare Before Christmas (second date I ever went on and he didn’t even want to see it…). Hocus Pocus (this was magical in the theater!). The list goes on and on. But in the summer after my Freshman year of high school we saw one movie that stuck with me for ever and started me on a spiral of nineties romcom watching that has stuck with me to this day.
I had never heard of Nora Ephron before that day at the theater. But her words mesmerized me from the moment the first line was spoken. Every piece of the film fell together in a way that sunk so deeply into my soul I knew I would never be the same. I fell in love with the characters, the music, the story, the setting, and the romance. I laughed. I cried. I swooned. It filled my heart with joy and made me a believer in love from a young age even more so than Disney ever did for me as a child. I’m not even gonna lie, I wanted to marry me a Tom Hanks. Who freaking didn’t?
As a child I was never that kid dreaming about what I was going to do when I grow up. I honestly cannot remember a single moment in my childhood where I even really sat down and thought about what I wanted to do as a career. I became a mom incredibly young, at the age of nineteen, and stayed home with my children throughout their younger years. When I was sick of watching A Bugs Life or Veggie Tales for the five thousandth time, I would watch romantic comedies. I would buy a DVD every time we went grocery shopping. Father of the Bride 1 & 2. You’ve Got Mail. While You Were Sleeping. It Could Happen to You. I could list a hundred that I seriously know all the words to. But Sleepless and Seattle will forever hold a special place in my heart.
One day after watching the movie, my kids went down for a nap. I think I was about twenty-seven at this point. For some reason, I sat down at my computer and started writing. That ‘story’, if you could call it that, was such a mess. But it was full of the magic that Sleepless in Seattle brought me and even though it would never be published and was lost some years ago when that computer died, the feelings I had when I wrote that book were the same I had way back in 1993 when romcom came into my life. I knew right then and there I was a romantic comedy writer.
Twenty-seven years ago, I had no idea that all these years later Nora Ephron would somehow become my inner voice, pushing me to write my very own romcoms and allowing other people to publish them and read them. It is amazing to think that a woman I have never met, never spoken to, and will literally never know, inspired my entire career. And to her, I am forever thankful.
Love Me Like You Do
A runaway bride. A handsome stranger. Two pasts to put behind them.
Parker is ready to marry the man of her dreams. But he isn’t ready to marry her. When she’s dumped moments before walking down the aisle, she didn’t expect to run into the arms of a handsome stranger. The southern drawl, the dreamy eyes, she can’t fall for another man after being left at the altar – can she?
When Liam agreed to go on yet another blind date, he didn’t expect his escape would lead him to the emergency room with a runaway bride. She might have just been left at the altar, but he’s immediately drawn to her fiery spirit, kind heart and beautiful smile. Liam’s got a whole host of problems and a past that’s haunting him, now can’t be the time to fall in love, but Parker might just be the one to break down his barriers and let him live a little – if she’ll let him in.
Will these two strangers allow serendipity to force them together, or will their fears keep them apart?
From the bestselling author of The Lucky Dress comes a story about love, finding yourself and living your dreams.
Aimee Brown is a writer of sweary, swoony romantic comedies set in Portland, Oregon. She writes closed-door romance (NO sex scenes, light kissing) with humor and crude language. She spends much of her time writing, raising three kids (who are all nearly grown now), binge-watching shows on Netflix and obsessively cleaning and redecorating her house. She’s fluent in sarcasm and has been known to utter profanities like she’s competing for a medal.
Aimee grew up in Oregon but is now a transplant living in cold Montana with her husband of twenty+ years, one of three children, and far too many pets. She is a lot older than she looks and yes, that is a tattoo across her chest.
Aimee is very active on social media. She’d love to have you stop by and say hi!
“What do you truly desire?” Lucifer asks in the Netflix series.
Aimee Brown is a writer of sweary, swoony romantic comedies set in Portland, Oregon. She writes closed-door romance (NO sex scenes, light kissing) with humor and crude language. She spends much of her time writing, raising three kids (who are all nearly grown now), binge-watching shows on Netflix and obsessively cleaning and redecorating her house. She’s fluent in sarcasm and has been known to utter profanities like she’s competing for a medal.
