The Dogs Are Waiting #poem #poetry #changethesystem #poetrycommunity

The Dogs Are Waiting

Before the first morning bell cues

the beginning of the rigid routine

The dogs wait at the doors

for the signal

to stalk the halls

Their gun stroking handlers

scan the crowd

looking to borrow trouble

Executives of conformity spin rules

into a constantly widening web

collecting casualties of policies

while bowing to a structure

that only serves itself

Being caught inside the unforgiving mechanics of a bureaucracy, whether it’s a job or some other public institution originally intended to help people (or designed to give the false impression of being helpful) means a constant battle to avoid being ensnared in a trap of unnecessary, potentially harmful rules. Progress is slow. Change, when it arrives, is often inadequate and lacking in equality. So many systems protect themselves instead of the people they were supposed to help.

The dogs are always waiting. Surviving the confines of a bureaucracy means a never-ending struggle to not be trapped and turned into a casualty of policy. Question everything and sow the seeds of disruption and change.

Ensnared #poem #poetry #medicareforall #healthcareisahumanright #poetrycommunity


When the last hesitant politician

finally trades their soul for a win

hope starves in the soup kitchen line

And for the living

the doors of the hospital

open wide

swallowing everyone ensnared

into insurmountable debt

What’s happened with health insurance and pharmaceutical industries in the US over the last few decades is an example of how greed often supersedes compassion and basic human rights. The industry standard has become profit before people. The already sky high and constantly rising cost of health insurance and health care keeps an alarming number of people from accessing the services they need.

Prescriptions, doctor visits, specialists, and basically all types of medical procedures, are unobtainable for many people. Living with a rectifiable condition, going without medicine, glasses, and hearing aids, is not uncommon. The absolute cruelty of putting people in the position of having to decide between going bankrupt for accepting medical care or going without and having to deal with permanent damage or worse is material for horror novels. But this awful situation is not fiction, it’s become the norm.

The private health insurance industry has filled countless politicians’ pockets while causing a trail of destruction and misery. How do we fix something that our greedy, lying politicians don’t want to fix? There doesn’t seem to be any simple answer, but I can only hope that decades from now, the last of the people holding healthcare just out of our reach, will be voted out of office, causing the unnecessary suffering in the system of profit over people to finally end.

The Quiet Reveals #poem #haiku #poetry

The Quiet Reveals

Adjust and allow

The quiet to surround me

Revealing my strength

I’ve been home resting and recovering from a minor heart procedure. Being still and resting are not the norm for me, but in the quiet stillness, everything has slowed down, revealing a kind of peacefulness often overlooked.

New release: Coming Home (Caveman Creek book 2) by Pia Manning #NewRelease #Menage #RomanticSuspense #EroticRomance

Coming Home – book 2 in the Caveman Creek series by Pia Manning is now available!


Bounced around from place to place as a child, Sherry Evans is seeking a town to call home. She also needs an affordable place to realize her dream of opening a daycare center. What Sherry is not seeking is a romance. But Matt Bauer, Chris Carter and Eric Simmons have other ideas. The men, building contractors, own and operate MCE Construction in Pinecone Creek, Wisconsin. When they meet Sherry, they know she’s the woman they’ve been waiting for. They are more than willing to renovate a building for her daycare – as long as it’s in Pinecone Creek. The men agree that they want a lasting relationship with Sherry and plan a campaign to convince her that they are the only guys for her. But an old girlfriend has other ideas. She wants her men back and Sherry gone. How far will she go to destroy Sherry’s dreams? Can Matt, Chris and Eric convince Sherry to love three men?

Book page and preorder link


Below, author Pia Manning has a fun character interview for Sherry Evans of Coming Home:

Character Interview for Caveman Creek 2

I got to wondering how well I really know Sherry Evans-our heroine in Coming Home: Caveman Creek Bk2. I’m the author and all, so I should know everything about her. Right? So, I decided to play a game with Sherry, kind of a little test to see how well I do know her. I picked eight questions and recorded both our responses. I’ll let you be the judge of how well I know Sherry.

  1. What was your favorite subject in school?

Pia says: English                                              Sherry answers: Home Economics

  • What scares you the most?

Pia says: Having to close your daycare.      Sherry answers: Spiders-especially in the shower

  • What is your favorite way to spend a weekend?

Pia says:  Hanging out with your men.        Sherry answers: Hanging out at home and cooking.

  • Do you like cats better, or dogs?

Pia says: Cats-you did rescue a cat…            Sherry answers: I have a cat, but I like both. Dogs give

                                                                                  you so much love, but then again, so do cats!             

               5.          Name three foods you would never eat.

Pia says: broccoli, brussel sprouts, spinach    Sherry answers: What? They’re so good for you!  

                                                                                Okay, snails, raw oysters and mushrooms. 

        6.        What’s your favorite vehicle?

Pia says: A pickup truck.                                    Sherry answers: Anything that gets me through the                                                                           the snow!       

        7.        What’s your strongest character trait?

Pia says: Your determination to succeed.        Sherry answers:  My patience. Especially with kids

        8.         If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be? Why?

Pia says: Somewhere tropical-it’s really cold    Sherry answers: I’d like to see an ocean or desert.

in NW Wisconsin in the winter.               I’ve never seen either of them tho Lake Superior 

                                                                      comes close to an ocean.

     Hmmmm, I guess I don’t know Sherry as well as I thought. Character takeover happens to a lot of us. Our characters develop a life of their own and just run away with the story!

About the author:

Pia Manning is the erotic romance author behind the new Caveman Creek series. Also by Pia Manning: Star Brides a three book series.  She is married to a wonderful man. Loves to crochet, play Clash of Clans. Not a morning person.

You can find her at:






Run #poem #poetry #lovepoem #valentinesday


Solitude can follow

those in need

of a little armor

The peace of protection


against the tide of crowds

and shatters the blades

sharpened for deception

But the weight of safety

gets heavy after a while

and it’s hard to breathe


so I take a breath and run through the darkness

looking for a chance

in the light

that was always there

by Christina Lynn Lambert

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Since I can’t seem to write anything sweet and mushy, here’s a dark little love poem with a hopeful ending. Be good to each other and be good to Mother Nature.

Ruined Vacation (Nick and Jacklyn book 7) by Ann Raina is now available! #Romance #RomanceNovels

Spend a happy vacation or die trying.

Blurb: While Matthew and Jason investigate a series of murders in
Washington, DC, Jacklyn and Nicolas start a long-awaited vacation with her parents.
Famous reporter David Callahan sets out with his girlfriend to have a good time and research the doings of a kidnapper prowling the woods of western Maine.
For all of them, the events turn out differently from their

Trapped in a hole in the ground, Nicolas and Jacklyn try to find a way out.
I wanted to take some days off from work with you, and now we’re in deep shit. We sit in a hole six feet under—”
“Don’t say that, Jacky, please, it’s got a bad ring to it.”
“Okay.” She slipped from under his arms and searched for a handkerchief to blow her nose.
He made eye contact. “We’re not dead yet, and we aren’t buried alive. Whatever this goon wants, he needs us to be alive to do it. We have to fulfill a task—something his crazy mind came up with. He wants to put us—me—to a test. He’ll—”
“—put me in a precarious situation and make you try to save me. Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“I will save you, Jacky, right away.” He lifted his chin to look at the grating. “I don’t know what’s on his mind, but we won’t wait to find out. He’s gone for now,” he concluded when the van took off, spilling gravel.
“Is that FBI profiler talk or my lover who wants to soothe me and restore hope?”
“There is still hope. We can get out of here. Here—I kicked some stones into the cell when we walked here. One of them must be sharp enough to—wait. I’ve got something even better.”
Jacklyn bent to find a sharp stone. “Better than this?” “Yes. Do you remember that I told you the inner pocket of my jacket is torn?”
“The usual.” She straightened with the stone in her hand.
He was relieved that she was concentrating on the task and not on the misery they were in. The less she thought about the crazy goon’s intentions the better.
“You stuff your coins and other things into them and wonder why they tear apart.”
“Right, but my Swiss Army knife slipped through. It’s in the bottom hem. He didn’t find it.”
“You carry a knife in your long jacket?”
“Don’t you?” he asked with a smile.
“Women carry purses. And mine is still in the SUV.” She groped for the knife. “Do you think the police have found our car by now?”
Nicolas hated to burst the bubble of hope. “We took a detour, didn’t encounter much traffic, and stopped somewhere along the road. No one is searching for us. No one knows where we are, or how far he drove with us.” He frowned. “For how long was I out cold?”
“Two hours, give or take.”
“That was a heavy dosage.”
“You scared me, Nick.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re on our own.” She ripped the lining and retrieved the knife. With a smile that should convey strength but was obscured by worry, she showed him the small blade. “But not lost.”
He lifted his hands so she could cut the plastic. “No, my love, we aren’t lost.” He kissed her chastely. “And we won’t get lost.” He freed her, too, and opened another tool in the knife set. “Here we go.”
“A screwdriver. What do you want to do with it?”
“I can’t do it. But when I put you on my shoulders, you can reach the screws.”
“And why not push the bolt?”
“It’s in the center of the iron plate. You can’t reach that far. That’s why you have to unscrew the plate and pull it together with the bolt.”
“You just made this up, right?” Jacklyn shook her head, obviously amused in spite of their situation.
“You can’t know that.”
“I looked at the construction when we stopped at the rim. It’s rather simple—but effective if you can’t reach up.”
“I bet he didn’t think of that when he overwhelmed us.” She crouched to open her shoelaces and take off the shoes. “What did he do with you that you were out for so long? I was really worried.”
“He shot me with an arrow. He’s an excellent marksman.” Nicolas bent to lift Jacklyn onto his shoulders. “If this doesn’t work, you have to stand on my shoulders, okay?”
She looked up to the grating. “I don’t see this happening, Nick. Who knows how long these screws have been exposed to the weather?”
“We don’t have another choice. If we can’t get away before he returns—”
“All right. Don’t frighten me. I’m frightened for both of us.”
Nicolas chuckled as he put his hands against the wall to have a more stable stand. “Can you reach the screws?”
“No.” Jacklyn let the screwdriver slip into her coat pocket to have her hands free. “Remind me that I need to do more workouts. I don’t know—” She sighed. “Did I mention that I’m scared of heights? That I’d never climb anywhere higher than a ladder?”
With his support, she knelt on his shoulders. It was a precarious position, but the only one from which she could reach around the iron plate and not hit her head at the grating. “Catch me if I fall.”
“A music quote in the wilderness. I’m impressed.”
“I’m scared shitless,” she replied breathlessly.

Buying information

About the Author:

Ann Raina lives and works in Germany with cats and a horse (which has its own home). Riding and writing are her favorite hobbies without putting one above the other. Her latest series, starting with Twisted Mind, deals with FBI Agent Nicolas Hayes, his cases of capital crimes, and his demanding and
commanding lover, Jacklyn Hollander. In all her books she combines romance, suspense, and humorous elements, for no thrilling story can stand without a comic relief.

Fun fact

As in every book she writes, you will find a Star Wars quote hidden somewhere in this one…

On social media

Instagram    #annrainaauthor


Amazon Author Page

Last Chance (The Chances Trilogy book 3) by Martha O’Sullivan #RomanceNovels #ContemporaryRomance #FriendsToLovers

Last Chance, The Chances Trilogy Book Three by Martha O’Sullivan

Moira Brody knows Paul Webster better than he knows himself. But neither one of them know that he is as desperately in love with her as she is with him. Still, she isn’t going to wait around forever, especially on Valentine’s Day. When Paul learns that the hard way, he has no choice but to take matters into his own hands. He can’t lose her. Or let the past dictate the future.

So Paul and Moira will have to do something they’ve never done before—go on a real date. A first date that turns into a passionate night, something for which Moira has waited a long time.

These friends turned lovers will have to look at each other with fresh eyes and brave hearts. But not everybody is on their side. And Paul will have to choose between following his head and listening to his heart. Or risk losing Moira forever.    


The black ice cast an eerie sheen on the road ahead and the glare from the oncoming high beams had Paul squinting as if at the summer sun. The weather was coming in fast and he wondered if Moira had gotten home safely. 

          Or alone. 

          Or at all. 

          He should have gotten her roses. But he didn’t. Because she’s Moira. Effortlessly beautiful, remarkably grounded, perpetually good-natured Moira.  And tonight she was something else. Incredibly sexy. In tight-fitting jeans and a silky top he’d never seen before. With her dark, thick, begging to be touched curls skimming her shoulders. And eye makeup and red 

lipstick. She smelled pretty good too. Like spring rain and lilacs.  All for the guy begging for roses at the flower shop. For someone he’d been “interested in for some time.” For whom he had a last minute arrangement thrown together. From his cuttings. For his girl. Paul huffed out a harried breath. Is that what she was?  Apparently not. But he sure as hell wanted her to be.  He slammed on the brakes and the SUV swerved, then leveled, sliding into the precarious U-turn.   

          It took Paul twice as long as usual to get back to Reno with the slick roads. And by then the temperature had dropped enough to turn the spitting rain into steely pellets.  A frigid, damp sleet akin to the block of ice that had staked a claim in the pit of his stomach. Turning the corner onto Moira’s street, he heaved a half-hearted sigh of relief when he saw no car in the driveway and a hodgepodge of lights burning inside. She was home. Alone it would seem.

         Unless they came in one car, he prepared himself through gritted teeth. 

         Paul knew the garage code, but didn’t want to scare her, so he opted for the conventional route. He could see her profile through the slats of the plantation shutters as he made his way up the path to the front door. She was in the kitchen fussing with something, still dressed up like she hadn’t been home long. His throat muscles contracted as his mind began to race. Had her date seen her home or had they parted ways at the office? Gone somewhere for a drink after dinner? Made another date? He looked on as Moira stepped back from the kitchen island, arms drawn across her chest, and appraised her work. The fancy jeans sat just below her hips, hugging every one of her curves from hip to ankle and Paul found himself disturbingly envious. The sheer shirt rested on her slim waist and reminded him of holding her in his arms when they danced at Lindsay’s wedding. And her breasts looked bigger somehow, like they’d grown overnight. The mere thought of touching them made his heart skip a beat and his cock begin to swell.    

         Seemingly pleased with her work, she reached for the dish towel flung over her shoulder and dried her hands, inadvertently catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. She did a double take, then held his gaze momentarily. He thought the corners of her mouth curved slightly upward, but the distance between them was too great to be sure. She shook off whatever she was thinking and walked toward the door. He visualized her on the other side, 

squeezing her eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths before opening it. She greeted him in a wobbly voice, “Hey.”  

         She looked mesmerizing in the amber light. Her emerald green eyes were soulful and clung to his as if unwittingly attached. Her full lips were naked now and Paul told himself it was from eating. The coal-black tendrils had doubled, the errant strands falling in sexy waves around her fair face. Also from natural causes, he told himself. “Hey. Can I come in?” 

         “Of course,” she invited, ushering him in.     

         Stepping inside, Paul rapid-fired, “I’m glad you’re home. I wanted to—”

         “Where else would I be at eleven o’clock at night?” she cut him off.

         “I don’t know.” His mind was suddenly a mare’s nest and his palms were beginning to sweat. “I wasn’t sure what your plans were for the rest of the evening.”

         “I’ve been home for almost an hour,” she informed him evenly. 

         “Alone?” His eyes scanned the living room.  

         “It was just dinner, Paul,” Moira patronized. 

         On Valentine’s Day, he silently added. “About that, I came by to apologize.” He wondered if she sensed the audible relief in his voice. “I shouldn’t have assumed we’d see each other tonight. And I certainly shouldn’t have assumed you’d be,” he bit off the word, “available.” He looked away then, into the kitchen, and saw what she’d been doing. Arranging flowers.

         His flowers. 

         She must have acquired clairvoyant powers in those few seconds, because her tone softened and she said, “I had to bring them home. They’re too beautiful to waste.

         With four long strides he advanced into the kitchen and glanced around. “Where are the roses?”

         She followed him. “At the office.”  

         “They’re not too beautiful to waste?” he asked in a thick voice, turning to face her. 

         “No, they are.” Her breath hitched. “They’re just not from you.”      

         Her eyes were filling behind their dark lashes and she was biting her bottom lip, trying to hold back the tears. Paul couldn’t have stopped himself from going to her if he’d wanted to. “Moira, what are we doing?” he implored, gripping her forearms. “What have I done? Have I lost you?”      

         She shook her head from side to side and the tears began to fall, leaving sooty tracks on her cheeks. Tipping his head back in silent gratitude, Paul gathered her in his arms. She instantly moved into his body, sniffling through sawed-off breaths.

         “Tell me nothing happened. Tell me there’s nothing between you and him,” he prayed out loud after a long moment.       

         She answered by burrowing her head into his shoulder and wreathing his middle. He felt her breathing level and he kissed the top of her head. She smelled like a subtle version of earlier, infused with wine and garlic. Hope replaced the trepidation in his stomach and he heard himself say, “I had to force myself not to go back there. I’ve been driving around for hours, going crazy.”

         She angled out of his grasp just enough to make eye contact. Suddenly she was the girl he used to know again, not the woman tying his insides into knots. Or maybe the perfect combination of both. Her eyes began to shine and a satisfied smile curved her lips. “You have?” 

         “Yeah. Like outside my mind crazy.” He laid his lips on hers and tasted the salt from her tears. She melted into the kiss, then the next. He wondered if she could sense him growing behind the zipper. Or the spool of want unwinding into a thousand frazzled threads in his gut. Gasping for air, he released her mouth and cupped her face in his hands. “You make me crazy, Moira Brody. Absolutely crazy.”

         Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. “Then I like you crazy.”

         Resting his forehead on hers, he let the night roll off his back like sweat. Then he closed his eyes and asked, “Do I need to fight for you, Moira?”

         She laughed a little. “Well, Jason did bring flowers, dinner, wine.”

         “I brought flowers, dinner, wine,” Paul defended high-mindedly, straightening. “Did you ever get the Chinese food?”

         “Yeah, it’s in there.” She nodded over his shoulder at the sub-zero refrigerator they’d picked out together.

         “It’s your favorite. Cashew chicken.”

         “Thank God,” she said lightly, dabbing the outer corners of her eyes.“I’m starving.”

         Paul sent her a confused look. “Did Bernini’s have a bad night?”

         “Not from what I picked at.”

         “Poor guy,” he gloated through a chuckle. “Went to all that trouble for nothing.”

         “I wouldn’t say for nothing,” Moira demurred, her eyes dancing with innuendo. “He seemed to enjoy the evening.”

         “Oh?” Paul inquired, stepping out of her embrace.

         Beaming now, she raised her eyebrows mischievously. “Yeah.”

         He felt his expression fall. “Did he kiss you good night?”

         “He did,”  Moira preened. 

         Paul couldn’t believe how much that bothered him. “Did you want him to?”

         Her face instantly sobered. “No,” she paused, then finished with hushed care, “I wanted you to come back.” 

         “I did.” As if he’d had any choice in the matter. Paul drew her to him again and ran his hands up and down her back. “I had to.”

         “That was all I could think about during dinner,” she admitted into the crook of his shoulder. “That I could have spent Valentine’s Day with you.”

         “It’s not over quite yet.” He leaned back and dried her tearstained cheeks with his thumbs.  “Think he’ll call you?” 

         She shrugged matter-of-factly. “Yeah.”

         “What will you say?” 

         “What should I say?” 

         “Thanks, but no thanks.” He reached into his jacket pocket.    

         Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she took the small box from his open hands. “Paul, what is this?”

         He gestured toward the bow-topped lid with a tip of the head. “Open it and find out.” 

         Moira obliged as Paul looked on eagerly. A tiny gasp escaped her throat when she saw the diamond studs inside.

         “I know they’re on the small side, but you aren’t one for flash.”

         She glided her fingertips over each diamond. “They’re beautiful.”

         “Emily thought they were perfect.” Just like you, he almost said. 

         Her astonished gaze shifted upward. “Emily?”      

         “She’s not sick. She found another sitter for tonight.” He paused to let the benevolent betrayal sink in. “So we could spend Valentine’s Day together.”

         “Oh, Paul! I’m so sorry!” Moira exclaimed. “I had no idea.”

         Neither did he. Until just now. And the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “You can make it up to me tomorrow night,” he told her on the fly. “We’re going on a date. It’ll be our first one.”

Purchase Links:

About the Author:

Martha O’Sullivan has loved reading romance novels for as long as she can remember. Writing her own books is the realization of a lifelong dream. She is a graduate of Illinois State University where she wrote for the school newspaper and was a member of Zeta Tau Alpha. She is also a former Acquisitions Editor at MacMillan Computer Publishing. Martha writes contemporary romances with male/female couples and happy endings. Her Chances TrilogySecond Chance, Chance Encounter and Last Chance—is available in print and digital formats at retailers everywhere. Her current work in progress is Christmas in TahoeA native Chicagoan, she lives her own happy ending in Florida with her husband and two daughters.

Romance Reader Giveaway Contest #ParanormalRomance #TimeTravelRomance #GiveawayContest #ReadMore #Bookbub

Readers of romance with sci-fi, time travel, fantasy, or paranormal romance, here’s another fun giveaway contest! Good luck and have fun discovering some fabulous authors.

Enter for a chance to win a $250 Amazon or Barnes and Noble Gift card – your choice. 

The Rules are simple…Follow as many authors as you would like…the more points you get, the better your chances are of winning! Good Luck!

Enter Here: before 11:59pm 2/11/22

New Release: Wedded by the Billionaire (a mistaken identity billionaire romance – book 2) by Robecca Austin #NewRelease #RomanceNovels #BillionaireRomanceNovels #SportsRomance

He spent the hottest night…with the wrong woman.

Wedded by the Billionaire (book 2 in the Mistaken Identity Billionaire Romance series) by Robecca Austin is now available!



One night with the wrong woman…

Tet controlled his universe, including the women he slept with, and a night of steamy fun was the perfect antidote for dealing with the new stress in his life.

Her passionate kisses and gentle caresses unraveled everything he thought he craved.

Now he would stop at nothing to make her his, even using their unbridled passion to get what he wanted.


They say you should never meet your hero…

The open gate onto his property was an invitation she couldn’t resist. She soon discovered it wasn’t meant for her, but with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she played out a fantasy she never thought would come true.

But fantasies have consequences. And hers had steely gray eyes that demanded more than passionate nights.


Tangela Morrison sat behind the wheel of her 2006 gray Honda Civic in front of the estate she intended to visit. Not any estate. This one belonged to Tetsuo McCreath. Major league baseball superstar: Rookie of the Year—if she were in charge, she would change the requirements so he could win this medal every year—award winner, and recipient of the Roberto Clemente award for his sportsmanship, community involvement, and his contribution to his team.

Yes, she was a low-key groupie. But who could blame her? The man was one of Wheelcaster’s star athletes. And the city was proud to claim him. Everything he did was perfect.

Then, he’d disappeared from TV and newspapers for two years because of a badly torn rotator cuff. The withdrawal she experienced from those years was the worst of her life. As a result, she’d fallen into work and spent her spare time assisting her uncle at Wheelcaster Fireflies. Fireflies was her uncle’s poorly performing minor league baseball team. Some days, she wondered about her uncle’s mismanagement and what she’d been thinking when she proposed the little league community program for differently abled children. To her uncle the program meant being in the spotlight or perceived spotlight as a philanthropist, except the community program hadn’t gained the attention he’d hoped for. To her, a little league team presented an opportunity to help those children longing to play but couldn’t afford to, and offering the program under the guidance of an established team should have cut costs. The trick to working with Uncle Simon was using Tetsuo’s experience since he once played on that patch of grass.

Tangela glanced at the steel fence. Then peered through the darkness. A long drive, shielded by tall, aged trees separated her from the home of the man she had lusted after for years.

Now he’d returned to Wheelcaster, intent on buying the Fireflies. And she was about to meet him. The thought of seeing him in person, hearing the sultry molasses in his voice made her hot and wet in places that hadn’t had male attention in forever.

Her body’s inadvertent reaction to him was why she’d pulled over to the side of the road before driving up to the gate.

For as long as she recalled, what she knew of Tetsuo had set the standards for her dating life. She wanted a man with the courage to go after his dreams. And because they were both adopted into their families, she felt a kinship of sorts to him—although his first seven years before becoming a  McCreath didn’t sound very loving. Maybe that was why every eligible man she’d met, especially those born with a silver spoon had fallen short—they lacked the heat in Tet’s eyes; a drive to be part of something bigger than himself. Or perhaps it was that his gaze was all consuming, as if he could devour her with his eyes alone.

Despite her body’s arousal, she wasn’t at his estate to sample the smooth ridges of his biceps under her tongue. Or to ogle his masculine form—as if one night could make up for two years of not seeing him on TV. Those delights would be a bonus.

She flushed.

Tangela was here to make sure that when Tetsuo bought the Wheelcaster Fireflies, he wouldn’t ditch the community program she’d started. If her father ran the team, he would have negotiated to keep the program. But her uncle Simon cared more for money and had not lobbied for her program.

Every child deserved a shot at playing the sport they love. It didn’t matter that they weren’t going to play beyond the team’s special Saturday events. Kids like Gabriel, a ten-year-old boy who showed up every Saturday and didn’t let his wheelchair stop him from playing his favorite position. She couldn’t imagine how disappointed he’d be if the program closed. Tangela gave herself a mental shake. She needed a level head. Nothing would be accomplished if she got worked up two-ways-to-Sunday.

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited


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Wedded by the Billionaire:

Courted by the Billionaire:

About the Author:

Robecca Austin is the author of happy ever after romance stories. She enjoys crafting tales of sassy heroines and alpha heroes that have a soft center.

She writes historical romance and billionaire romance stories.

You can find her outside enjoying nature and lots of sunshine when there are no bugs. When she’s not writing her next novel, she’s busy battling Cystic Fibrosis and hugging family. She lives and works in Canada.

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