Friends to lovers. Romantic Comedy. Medical Romance by NYT and USA Bestselling author Mona Risk.
He told her to grow up. Now she’s back—and he’s not ready to let go. Friends? Benefits? Or something real… he’ll fight for forever.
Jessica was only eighteen when she fell for Niles Wolf—the dashing resident renting a room in her grandmother’s cozy house. But when her Nanna passed, Niles shattered the magic with two cutting words: Grow up. Six years later, Jessica isn’t the heartbroken girl he left behind. She’s a confident doctor with her own voice—and she’s not afraid to use it. “Your turn to mature, Niles. Friends? Friends with benefits? Or something real?” Niles wants the real thing with Jessica. But ghosts from his past—and the women who still haunt it—threaten their chance at something lasting. Can they rewrite their story, or will old wounds and lingering doubts pull them apart again?
Her Cozy House is book 20 of the Love Plans Series.
Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of reading many of the books in the Love Plans series and I can honestly say Mona is an excellent story teller with a strong sense of charcter definition. This laests book won’t disappoint. The perfect read for a hot summer day or evening. Available in E-book.
Maybe he’s become an unintended guardian following the loss of a family member, or he’s facing parenthood alone, gaining custody through a divorce or the death of his significant other.
Load up your Kindle with seven NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED romances from New York Times, USA Today & International Bestselling, Award-Winning authors.
Secret pasts, grieving widows and widowers, military men and women forging ahead while battling PTSD. There’s a story for everyone in this brand-new collection of single dad romances. Whether looking for love or not these single dads are sure going to find it!
TWO HEARTS’ DETOUR by Tamara Ferguson, USA Today Bestselling Author: He promised his fallen best friend he’d raise his daughter. She vowed never to marry again. But when a custody fight turns dangerous, a marriage of convenience becomes their only defense. As the attacks escalate, will they finally discover that it’s love they’re fighting for?
WORTH LOVING by Natalie Ann, USA Today Bestselling Author: One night of pretending became the truth neither could escape.
BLUE BAYOU by Suzanne Jenkins, USA Today Bestselling Author: He came to Cypress Cove to rebuild his life—quietly, carefully, on his own terms. She lives just beyond the edge of town, barefoot and guarded, with secrets he can’t quite reach. The closer he gets, the harder it is to ignore the pull between them—or the truth that she was never the one who needed saving.
NEVER LOVE AGAIN by Alicia Street, USA Today Bestselling Author: Moving back to his hometown, single dad Zander runs into the girl he left behind and the secret they shared.
LOVE ON THE ROAD by Mona Risk, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author: A former ER nurse turned limousine driver is pulled deep into the chaotic world of the Young family. Love, secrets, and her own buried past collide as the road ahead twists out of control.
NOT ANOTHER LONELY FATHER by Stacy Eaton, USA Today Bestselling Author: After moving to Sedona for a fresh start, former rescue pilot Caleb Sharpe finds his missing daughter in the care of Kelly, a Chicago nurse inheriting a local retreat. Their instant connection forces them both to decide if they can leave their pasts behind for a new future together.
COLD HEART by Susanne Matthews, International Bestselling Author: Judge Cole Hart is forced to choose between his daughter and his duty to the law. The only one who can help him is JJ Jones, a gorgeous redheaded bodyguard who attracts him as no one has since his wife’s death.
These stories are definitely the perfect summer evening treats. get your copy today. $4.99 USD of read on Kindle Unlimited.
Welcome back. June seems to be behaving itself at least so far. I have mu yardword done for the year, and I’m looking forward to a quiet relaxing summer. This week, the authors of Tuesday tales are writing to the word prompt, BERRIES.
I’ve started a new book. The Bonds of Time is a paranormal/fantasy with a touch of time travel in dreams, and will be part of the Timeless Love Series. It’s got angels, demons, fairies, changelings and humans, of course. It’s a backburner book for me since I have others on the front burner, but I’ve decided to work on it just for you. So, without further ado…
At first glance, the man in the thin, nylon jacket and a New York Yankees’ ball cap and the woman in an olive coat trimmed in faux fur, an ivory knitted cap covering her head, seemed no different from anyone else admiring the ancient monoliths, but on closer inspection, something about them seemed out of place, and demanded a second glance.
Neither of them carried a camera or a tourist information pamphlet, and they walked along absorbed in one another rather than in the majesty of the stones surrounding them. The woman, an ageless beauty with regal elegance, seemed to glide gracefully along the pathway, while the older man trudged beside her as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
With her free hand, she pushed back the lock of platinum hair, and the only tress of its color in her tawney mane. The movement betrayed her agitation more clearly than any other action could have.
Other than her lips, the color of ripe berries, her complexion resembled the alabaster of ancient statuary.
“I’ve missed you, Garth, but for you to call me into this world now can only mean that something terrible has happened. Six months ago, when you reported to the Celestial Council, you claimed everything was under control, and that we would have at least five years to ensure her proper training; now, you say that she’s got to come home immediately. What’s caused this sudden change of heart? Don’t try to soften the blow, Garth. If you’re correct, we don’t have time for niceties.”
The man removed his hat and shook his grizzled mane. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he mopped his brow with an amazingly firm hand. Despite the coldness of the day, he perspired profusely.
“I’ve been in this form too long, I can’t control my body temperature, and it’s becoming noticeable. I need to return to Sanctuary, if only for a few days.”
“You’re prevaricating and stalling, husband.” Her voice filled with frustration. “You called me here; I want an answer now. What’s gone wrong?”
“They’ve found her, Lorna,” he answered his voice low, his tone remorseful.
She gasped. “Impossible!”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but I saw it with my own eyes. The guardian sent to France to watch over her human parents is dead. He was brutally murdered by one of the seekers. I was called in as soon as the body was found. A residual scan of his remains showed that he’d given them vital information before he died.’
Here it is. June. Only problem is that May flew by so quickly that I think I missed most of it. Truth be told, I did struggle with an earache for the last two weeks of the month and spent a lot of time curled up in a ball, sore ear pressed into the pillow.
I’d had earaches before. Since I suffer from seasonal allergies, it’s not unexpected. Sinuses fill and fail to drain properly, ear plugs, passages swell…you get the drift,but this was different. Instead of one steady pain, every so often, I got timy electric shocks–not only painful but disturbing. At first, I considered I was having mini-strokes–I wasn’t. It seems the swollen ear canal was pressing on a nerve. Tylenol alleviated the issue for four-five hours at a time, but if I missed a dose, it took at least an hour to work once more. I finally understand why they are so particular about taking meds at the correct time. Thanks to my antihistamines and decongestant as well as the pain reliever, the issue finally resolved itself–just like the doctor said it would.
Between bouts of rain, I managed to finish my garden clean-up for summer 2026. It’s the first year I’ve done it myself, and while I’m proud of my accomplishments, I do have to admit that it was damn hard work. But doesn’t it look nice? For the record, I have seven more beds like this around the house. I used 24 bags of mulch all told and filled 20 planters!
It was no small miracle that I managed to finish the next book in the Evie Chambers series, A Case of the Missing Prince.
The case may be cold, but what if the prince isn’t? It’s up to Evie and Al to find him.
Crown Prince Stanislav Drulivic is missing. The thirty-five-year old heir to the Kingdom of Zobora, located in the Carpathian Mountains on the border of Poland and Slovakia, an area rich in mineral deposits, vanished four months ago on a hiking/mountain climbing trip to Alberta. There was a rockslide at his last known locale, and two climbers were killed while many others were injured, including four of his friends traveling with him, but no one has seen hide nor hair of the missing royal since that day.
People disappear for a number of reasons, but when the missing person is next in line for the throne, foul play can’t be ignored. The authorities claim they’ve recovered all the bodies, but if he walked away from the slide, where is he now? With the family offering a huge financial incentive for answers, the job seems to be right up Evie’s alley, but there’s a catch—there’s always a catch.
In order to get the job, she has to include two Zoborans on her team: Viktor Opole, a security guard, and Baron Petrov Bukowski, a close friend of the missing prince. There’s something about the two men that doesn’t sit well with her. Al Binette, the former Navy Seal and Parks Canada employee who saved her life on her last case and brought love back into it, agrees to join her and watch her back once more.
While this new case is filled with intrigue and contradictions, it’s a cold one that defies explanation and will take every ounce of the savvy detective’s reasoning and investigative skills to solve.
Accidents can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere, but how many times can Evie cheat death?
A Case of the Missing Prince will be released later this month as part of a box set:
I leave on vacation for a week on Tuesday. When I come back, I’m sure I’ll have lots to share with you.
Welcome to June and almost summer as well as the sixth month of the year, which means we’re halfway through 2026. So far the first half of the year has been so-so, with sales lower than usual, but I’m hoping that will improve. I need to do more promoting, I guess, but that is my weak spot.
I finished the A to Z challenge in April, met several new bloggers, whom I hope will continue to follow my blog as I follow theirs. In addition, I’ve written two new books so far this year, one romance suspense, the other cozy mystery with a lot of rom-com in it. I seemed to have crossed over the line between the two genres. We’ll see what happens with sales. I’m hoping to write two more before the end of the year, but I have a month long holiday planned for August which will cut into my writing schedule this year. Hoping to write only in the morning and enjoy the rest of the warm summer days. Winter seemed especially long this time around.
This month’s question: Do most of your story ideas come from one place (the news, dreams, etc.) or do they hit from all over the place?
My stories come from all over, but world events and the news do give me lots of ideas. In some situations, my stories are reactions to current events. My characters can be very opinionated at times, and at others, they can be more open-minded than many of the people around me. My ideas tend to be influenced by current events and the reams of misinformation and disinformation that abounds on the Internet, so I walk a thin line.
I would say that my holidays also give me story ideas. I’ve been known to set my tales in places that I’ve visited, such as Scandinavia, The British Isles, the Carribbean Islands, and Mexico, as well as here in Canada, adding details from my own experiences and the things I learn while I’m there. My stories also come from a sense of national pride since I’m setting most of my latest books in Canada and adding in its beauty and culture.
The third source for story ideas has to be my overactive imagination and the ideas that manifest themselves in my dreams. I may not recall the entire dream, but something will stick with me, and I’ll feel the need to let the idea play out. As all of my books are character driven, a lot of the time I don’t know where I’m going with a story until I get there. That’s the joys of being a pantser. Even you can be surprised in the end.
It’s June! Summer is only three weeks away, and while the weather continues to be erratic this year, we have had enough nice days for me to plant my flowers. This week, the authors from Tuesday Tales are crafting scenes in their WIP to the word prompt sugar. I’ve used a form of the word. This is the last post from The Case of the Missing Prince, since the book goes to the editor this week. Hope I’ve left you wanting more.
“The newspaper editor, a member of the anti-royalist coalition, claims the king has been hiding the information so as to influence the upcoming elections.”
“How could knowing whether or not the prince was alive do that?”
“It all goes to trust,” Petrov admitted. “When questioned about the fact that the prince was in Canada to sign treaties to bring nuclear energy to Zobora—a rather specific concern if you ask me—the energy minister denied all knowledge of such, and as for the prince being dead, he reminded the reporter that the prince had long been a fan of green energy initiatives of all kinds. Crown Prince Stanislav was expected back in Zobora in October to take over the reins at Zobora Copper and Fine Metals and could answer their questions himself.”
“And did it help.”
“Perhaps it buys us a little more than a week to show proof of life. The king addressed the nation three hours later, denied the allegations concerning the prince’s death, telling them that he and the queen have been in contact with their son and that they look forward to his return before his birthday on October 23. He stressed that Stanislav wasn’t in Canada to sign any agreements, but to gather information and start a dialogue on the issue. He added that the prince will share his vision for the country at his birthday party, well ahead of the election.”
I let out a slow breath. Everything had just changed and not for the prince’s benefit. Once his picture started to circulate, someone was bound to recognize him. Knowing the tabloids, one of them would probably offer a reward to anyone who could point them to a living prince or his remains. It was far from an ideal situation, and if the people searching for the prince were to offer to foot the bill, Prince Stan could be in far more trouble than he thought. I had to get to him first.
“And you’re sure all of this is legit? Not some AI fabrication meant to deceive and confuse?
“Completely legit as you say. To use one of your expressions, there’s no need to sugarcoat it. The article contained details only someone close to the prince would know.”
“Or a damn good spy. So, who is it? Anton, Zandro, Emile, Jacob, or a spy in the palace? Let’s be practical here. Other than those directly involved and the immediate royal family, who else knows the truth?”
I hope you had a happy Memorial Day weekend. Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Today, the authors are crafting scenes to the word prompt BUTTER. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince. The story has taken a few twists and turns since our last encounter. Hope you’ll be able to follow. Enjoy.
“Do you recall why you asked me to come with you on this job?”
I nodded. “Yes,” I stated looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. “I remember all of the reasons I wanted you with me.” I ran my hand along his arm.
“We’ll discuss some of those other reasons after, but for now let’s talk about this one. How can I watch your back when you leave like that? Now that we know that the prince is alive and hiding from those who tried to grab him, the danger is greater than ever. They’ve killed at least once to set this up. They won’t be happy if we find him first. I’m not saying I expect you to take me to the can with you, but I am saying that I was worried, although I did suspect you were making a call. So what did the queen of hackers have to say?”
“I’m sorry, and to be fair, I didn’t expect to be gone that long.” As succinctly as I could, I shared what Hallie had with him concerning Andreea and her husband. “Despite his background he was very anti-nuclear energy—maybe it was because of it, but whatever the reason, it looks like Andreea picked up the torch after he died.”
I shoved my hands in my coat pocket to remove my gloves when a slip of paper fell to the floor.
“You dropped this.” Al handed it to me.
I reached for it. “It must be something old from before we left Ottawa,” I mused before opening it, thinking it was a receipt from Tim’s since I hadn’t worn this coat since last spring.
It wasn’t. The note was short and far from sweet.
Leave this area. Mind your own business or become a casualty of war. You’ve been warned.
War? Since when had this become a war? There was no signature, but I recognized the upside down horseshoe as the last letter of the Greek alphabet, Omega, the end, or the name of the person behind ZOE. Who had put it there?
Knowing who was after the prince should make everything easier, but it didn’t. What it did was send my brain into overdrive once more. How did I know this wasn’t a red herring, something to get me off the right track and send me in the wrong direction?
“What is it?” I handed the slip of paper to Al.
He read it and scowled. “Damn it, Evie. This is exactly what I was saying. Anyone who was close enough to drop a note in your pocket could’ve done a lot worse.”
Six romances where love arrives late, loud, and wildly inconvenient.
A fake boyfriend at a wedding. A hockey fling that shouldn’t happen. A sabotaged island salon. A rescue mission gone delightfully off the rails. A stormy seaside inheritance with a captain who’s too tempting to ignore. And a kidnapped social worker in a nun’s habit who walks into a bar and turns everything upside down.
Filled with humor, heart, mystery, and irresistible chemistry, this collection brings you small‑town charm, romantic suspense, road‑trip chaos, and second‑chance magic—all in one binge‑worthy set. Featuring:
All My Loving Cynthia Cooke One wedding. One pretend boyfriend. One love that refuses to stay fake.
The Groupie Stephanie Queen A no-strings fling between intense, ambitious Rylee and easygoing hockey lover Zak turns into a complicated tangle of hidden identities, broken rules, and secrets neither can outrun. Their expiration-date romance was supposed to stay simple, but Zak is falling first, falling hard, and falling straight into trouble.
Della Denise Devine An ambitious hairstylist arrives on Enchanted Island to open her dream salon, only to face sabotage, small-town politics, and a distracting artist who may be exactly what her heart needs. Sunshine, scissors, scandal, and romance collide in this breezy island love story.
The Wizard of Odds Dani Haviland An oddball rescue mission sends insurance-company coworkers and a self-employed massage therapist on a wild road trip from Minnesota to Arizona to save exotic animals from a black-market gambler. Along the way, mismatched couples, desert danger, and a menagerie of second chances make falling in love almost as risky as the rescue itself.
Sea Breeze Susanne Matthews A guarded woman inherits a seaside resort and returns to the town where she was born, hoping to claim her freedom and uncover answers about her past. But a mysterious, blue-eyed boat captain with promises of his own may tempt her into risking her heart, especially when a storm threatens everything she’s just begun to build.
A Whole Lot of Loving Susan Jean Ricci A kidnapped social worker in a nun’s outfit walks into a bar. For a bartender still on parole, that should be the beginning of a very bad joke. Instead, it’s the start of a chase, a cover-up, and the kind of chemistry neither of them has time for. She needs protection. He needs to stay out of trouble. But trouble – and flirting – have other plans
Good morning. Yesterday was Victoria Day, the unofficial first day of summer. When I was a child, it was alos the day they had fireworks as part of the celebration. That changed after our centennial in 1967 when fireworks and other festivities moved to Dominion Day, the anniversary of the July 1, 1867 Confederation Day. While it’s celebrated July 1, each year, it was officially renamed Canada Day on October 27, 1982 and is our day of national pride and activities as well as fireworks.
Today, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt SCREEN. I’m continuing with The Case of the Missing Prince. Evie is working hard to reconcile everything she knows with what she’s about to discover. I’m a few words over thisweek, but I needed to give you the whole picture!
Al reached to open the door but discovered it was locked. I frowned. It was daytime. I could understand locked doors at night as a security measure, but during the day? It wasn’t as if the patients were in any shape to run away. I pressed the intercom.
“Yes?” a woman answered the buzz. “How can I help you?”
“Evelyn Chambers, Al Binette, Petrov Bukowski, and Viktor Opole. We have an appointment to see Janek Dulik.”
“Of course, Ms. Chambers. We’ve been expecting you. Come in.”
The door buzzed, and Al held it open as I led the pack through the entrance. We walked through an x-ray machine, similar to the ones used in high security buildings and airports and stopped at the desk where the receptionist waited, staring at the screen in front of her.
“Ms. Chambers, we’ve been expecting you. Janek and Zoya are excited to be getting visitors. You’ll be the first company they’ve had since arriving here last month. I see some of you are armed.”
I frowned. Obviously, just because the machine hadn’t beeped, it didn’t mean it hadn’t done its job. Since when were rehab centers locked down this way? Something else she’d said struck me. Zoya was staying here? That didn’t seem normal. I would get to the bottom of that later.
“I am, and so is Al.”
There was no point in denying it since my weapon and his had shown up on the scan.
I glanced at Viktor and Petrov, who shook their heads.
“May I see your credentials?” Her voice was frostier than it had been.
I handed her my ID and looked around. While I couldn’t see anyone but nurses, patients in wheelchairs, and orderlies in the hall, I was certain that had I said no, the situation would’ve deteriorated quickly.
What the hell is going on here?
In another time and place, I could picture this woman in uniform, although whether it would be prison guard or military escaped me. She typed the information into her computer, checked my ID with whatever had come up on the computer, and nodded.
Looking up, she said, “The ID for the other armed man, please?”
Al handed her his personal information which included his new investigator’s license.
She repeated the process she’d used for me.
“Your security clearance allows you to keep your weapons.” She smiled, the gesture changing her demeaner. “Please sign in.” She indicated an old-fashioned ledger.
I reached for the pen. “Is security always this tight here?”
Good morning. I sincerely hope life is treating you well. We have yet to fins spring although the birds and the plants are doing their damndest to be on schedule. My eyes are getting better every day, and I can walk farther and a little faster, but not unless Mother Nature comes to her senses and stops with all the rain.
If you’re anything like me, you enjoy the changing seasons, but I’ve come to the conclusion that there are a few missing in the calendar. I propose we consider adding two more to begin with, but I’m open to other options. I’ll leave the four seasons we have as they are, but here are the two I suggest.
My first addition would be Springer, in honor of the talk show host who seemed intent on the shock value of misery, not his. Springer would be that time when Mother Nature has a hot flash and opens the door to the freezer to cool down. I’m sure my menopausal ladies know what that’s like. In her case, Mother Nature is just moving along, counting down the days off the calendar until her next big event, seeing the propsect of spring and her new flowery wardrobe, and feeling relaxed, allows a few days of sun and warmth, lets shoots come out of the earth, tiny leaves burst from buds, and then … Bam! The hot flash hits her, and she reacts by unleashing every kind of cold, godawful weather you can imagine–rain, sleet, ice pellets, freezing rain, snow, and cold, bone-chilling damp. vicious cold that has us hidng under the heavy blankets and cranking up the heat once more. Once she cools down, the warmth returns, only to begin again.
Some people refer to this as false spring. I prefer Springer. We had about eight weeks of Springer this year, starting mid-March and running into now. For the record, frost warnings in May are just wrong.
I took this picture of a baby mourning dove this morning. Ugly little sucker. I had to look it up to find out what kind of bird it was. He’s big, maybe 10-15 cm tall and will be quite pretty when he loses his baby fluff nad proper feathers grow in. What he was doing atop my shed is a mystery. I’ve heard their cries often, but it’s the first time I’ve seen a baby. Poor little guy. He had himself so puffed up against the cold, you could hardly see his head. And that’s wrong, too.
But, God and Mother Nature willing, that’s going to change this weekend, Victoria Day Weekend, what most consider the start of summer even though it’s tecnically a month away. And just like that, it will be Sprummer, the other new season I propose, the one where someone kicks spring to the curb and offers summer a lawn chair and a case of beer, even if it is still a child. Those nice warm spring days we’ve been waiting for to clean up the yard and get the flower beds ready, you know the ones around 20-22C, vanish within what seems like a matter of hours and are replaced by the 28 to 30 C temps. So now, you’re trying to get those flower beds and gardens ready in the kind of weather that has sweat running down your back. It’s hot and humid with the potential for thunderstorms. Your body is in shock, not programmed to deal with a sudden heat wave after the -1C of the previous week.
You race to the closet, desperately searching for something suitable for the heat, praying some of it will fit, because let’s face it, you were still wearing your winter coat last week. If you’re one of the smart ones, you kept your legs and armpits shaved, if not, you could be mistaken for the missing link, but out you go, with arms and legs that haven’t seen the sun in at least nine months, limbs so white that they glow with an unearthly brilliance.
You slap on a thin coat of sunscreen wishing it was the instant tan lotion of your youth, but knowing they don’t sell that anymore now that they know tanning is bad for you, but few of us are content to be fish-belly white in summer.
So, instead of a nice golden tan, you looked more like a broiled lobster, only you aren’t done all over, just one side, the side the sun saw while you were bending over in the garden, and it hurts like hell. But, Hey sprummer is here. By the end of the week, it’ll be cool again.
Living the Dream 