On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, Santa is bringing you a couple more free reads! #Free #ebooks #Kindle

FAVORITE CHRISTMAS MEMORY

I love Disney. I'm a Disney girl. Shamelessly and without apology. I grew up on The Wonderful World of Disney, where I'd get to see their movies whether we had the money to go to the movies or not.



Every single time I saw Cinderella's castle, I felt like I was truly a part of something magical. Though I watched a lot of Disney with my kids, I probably wouldn't have needed kids to watch them, particularly when Pixar rolled out its first few masterpieces. I love the perennial childhood of it. If I had the money, I'd be wrapped up in Disney all year long, right down to an annual Disneyland pass so I could go to the park whenever I wanted.

I live close enough to hear the fireworks show every single night, and there's a piece of me that always - ALWAYS - wants to be there to see it.

I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it.

Did I mention I love it?

I didn't always have the money to love it. Back in the early 1990s, I was lucky to own VHS tapes that my kids could watch over and over again. (Can you quote The Lion King verbatim? I can.)

Then I got a new job in 1995, probably one of the better jobs I had ever had. I couldn't always say the same about the boss, but there were times when she showed how generous and thoughtful she could be. In 1996, that included four free passes to Disneyland for me and my family as a Christmas gift.

This was a big deal for us, but it was an even bigger deal for me. I had never been to Disneyland, granted, but I had never been to ANY large theme park. I'm 46 years old, having lived most of my life about three hours west of Six Flags Over Texas, and I have never been. There was never really any money for that, plus it was never something my parents would have enjoyed doing even if we did have the money. They didn't really care for rides or crowds or overpriced Churros.

I didn't care about all that. I wanted to ride the rides. I wanted to see the castle. I wanted to feel like a princess, whose every wish could come true.

To be able to give that to my kids from an early age, starting with that first trip, was truly one of my more epic Christmas presents. Not just for the cost, which had to be somewhere around $400, but because for just a moment or two, my family, as bare-boned as it was, and as much as it struggled, could feel like everyone else just for the day.

Given how rough the first half of the 90s were, thanks mostly to Dan's unchecked mental illness, this was a big deal for us. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. Dan had begun therapy, I had a good job for once... things were looking up.

Things were.... magical. And I knew that the minute that I spotted Mickey Mouse walking around the park, and I reverted to a five-year-old when he waved me in to join the photo.

It was a great end to a great day. It also made me fall in love with a Disney Christmas. If you want to go to the parks, go around Christmas time. Even if you're not in the spirit, they'll do their best to get you there. (This may or may not work depending on how you feel about crowds. I'm not so pro on that, either, but for one day a year... it's worth it.)

Be sure to stick around for the fireworks. And if you're at Disneyland, I'll be celebrating vicariously through you just a few miles away as I remember all my awesome Christmas memories there. Happy 60th anniversary, Disneyland. I'll visit you again real soon. <3



FAVORITE CHRISTMAS SONG

Well, it's Christmas Eve. I've been avoiding a lot of the more traditional music this year because of losing my mom. I watched Dolly Parton's COAT OF MANY COLORS several days ago and I still can't think of those hymns she sang without dissolving into a sobby, inconsolable mess. So I knew better than to listen to the religious songs of my youth, knowing they'd devastate me.

They always have, even before I could litter the months of December and January with more sad anniversaries than should be legal. (Lost my Mom December 6, lost my Dad December 19 and lost my son January 15.)

(Wake me up when December ends...)

But... this is my favorite *true* Christmas song. I've used it in a couple of stories so far, and this is by far my favorite version, at least until Steve Perry releases his own version anyway. Get your hankies ready, folks.



JEFF N' GINGER'S HOLIDAY WHOOVIE

Okay *sniffle*. Time to get back to the festivities. It is simply NOT Christmas Eve without a Christmas Carol, in whichever form you decide to enjoy this particular story. There are a few options. You can watch something a little more classic...



You can watch something a little more modern...



You can even watch it retold by none other than Doctor Who...



OR, you could be like me, and watch something completely irreverent. THIS is one of my favorite Christmas movies OF ALL TIME, and also featured in one of my Christmas stories as a result. (SAN FRANCISCO SERENADE, btw, which has been revised and updated and re-released everywhere, although Amazon has yet to price-match it as FREE like Barnes & Noble and iTunes.)

It's so good, and so beloved, I save watching it till Christmas Eve just to make it an event. I could have watched it the twenty or so times it played already, but no. I need it to be special. I need to turn off all the noise of the world and just immerse myself into it, instead of let it play like background noise in the background, which, with a few notable exceptions, is what TV is to me.

THIS is happening tonight. Join us, won't you?



TODAY'S #BAKEITFORWARD CHRISTMAS RECIPE

Tonight we're baking for our dinner tomorrow. At least... I hope we will. Keep an eye on the Instagrams to see if I can make it happen in the midst of all the other pre-holiday craziness I've got going, which includes - *shudder* - going back out into public, namely... the grocery store. (I'm askerred. The pool is cold...)

Today's treat: CRANBERRY CHRISTMAS CAKE

I still want a pecan pie though. And we have about three more types of cookies to make. NO PRESSURE. But it's for a good cause, so .... BAKE LIKE THE WIND!

ELEVENTH DAY FREEBIE

I've got two for you today. One is a short story called THE WAITER, which I have also revised in time for the holiday. Unlike SAN FRANCISCO SERENADE, it HAS been price-matched to free for the holidays on B&N and iTunes. (If you want SFS, I'd recommend using the "saw this at a lower price" feature on Amazon. I've been doing that at least twice a day for a week... maybe you'll have better luck than I did.)

This story is bittersweet and kinda ghostly, but I truly do love it. It's as me as a story gets, right down to its twisty ending. Charles Dickens would be so proud.

For you romance lovers out there, my book PICTURE POSTCARDS, is also available for free right now. It's a book I wrote in the 1990s, which I revised to the 2010s courtesy of the magic of Christmas, where this tale is told as a holiday bedtime story. I'm partial to this one, too.

Hell, I'm partial to all my babies. I can only hope that you like them too.

Here's an excerpt:

*****

PROLOGUE
CHRISTMAS EVE, 2004

A bundle of boundless energy in footed Christmas jammies opened the door of her bedroom with nary a creek. She pulled playful tangles of tousled, dark hair from her dancing blue eyes, peering first one way down the dark, quiet hallway, then the other. She carefully and soundlessly padded towards the stairs, following the sound of carols playing in the warm and cozy living room downstairs. Dozens of candles lit the room where her mother was putting the finishing touches on their cheerfully decorated Christmas tree. She held each trinket like a cherished treasure, turning it over in her hands with a nostalgic smile as she examined each memento. The Eiffel Tower, the old jalopy – a pair of pink, sparkling ballet slippers – all dangled from the tree, side by side with dozens of other ornaments, telling the story of their family.

She looked so happy and peaceful as she trimmed the tree that the little girl almost didn’t want to disturb her. But despite her best efforts to stay concealed, her mother turned with a barely contained smile. “It’s not morning yet, you know.”

“I know,” the little girl sighed as she plopped onto the sofa. “But I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Santa won’t visit as long as you’re awake.”

That piqued the child’s interest. “Where is he now?”

“Let’s see,” her mother responded as she abandoned the decorating to head toward a computer sitting on a desk in the corner. Within a few clicks she had the information. “Looks like he’s headed to New York. That means he’ll be here in just a few hours.”

The child pouted. “But I can’t sleep. Maybe you should tell me a story.”

Any reprimand died on the woman’s lips as she glanced over at her beloved child. How could she deny her anything, much less a bedtime story? “Okay,” the mother agreed as she came to sit beside the little girl. “Which one?”

The child smiled wide. “You know.”

Her mother giggled as she pulled the cuddly little girl close. “Yes, I suppose I do.” Her eyes fell on the computer sitting across the room from where they huddled on the sofa. “It’s a story that took place only ten years ago, but things were pretty different then. Back then we couldn’t get a lot of our information in the blink of an eye like we do today. People still got letters in the mail, including special cards to let folks tell those they loved that they were thinking about them, no matter where their travels would take them.”

“Postcards,” the little girl supplied dutifully.

“Postcards,” the mother affirmed with a smile. “We still send and receive postcards today, but back then it was different. Mail traveled like people traveled, in cars and on planes, so all these postcards passed through dozens of hands before they reached the recipient. The journey connected people all over the planet with intimate little messages strangers could, and did, intercept. But you know what makes them extra special?”

“It was how you met Daddy,” the little girl whispered, in awe at the power of fate.

“It was how love brought your daddy to me,” the mother said softly. The little girl always thought her mother grew even lovelier when she spoke about the special bond they shared.

So the little girl snuggled in her mother’s arms and waited for the story she had heard many times in the previous seven years, but one that seemed to get better each and every time her mother told it.

“It was 1994,” the woman said, a softness creeping into her voice as she remembered how it all began. “I had just moved to Los Angeles to start my new career. I was pretty excited, and a little scared. And I had no idea that fate was about to change my life in a remarkable way.”

*****

#SnippetSaturday - An Ode to My Love on our 14th Anniverary.

Today is a special day. Not only is it Jordi's birthday, but it is the anniversary of the day I wed my love, Steven, in 2001.

I would tell you about my love, but truth is, you've already met him in various ways throughout many of my stories. Any time any of my Book Boyfriends have made you laugh, have supported their heroines, making them believe that they could be anything they wanted to be, who deserved to be loved and romanced and valued despite what they were taught to believe by society at large, you've seen Steven peeking from behind the facade. Fun... romance... unconditional love and unyielding support? This is his fingerprint on my life. He's literally made so many of my dreams come true.



Since Steven is my idea of a HEA, he has influenced and inspired so many stories, so many characters and so many experiences that I have written in dozens of books since we met. If I get stuck on an idea, I turn to Steven, thrusting pages of raw material under his nose to get his input. Because of him, I'm not sure I would have written THE GROUPIE SAGA as truthfully as I did. When he got to the end of book one, he told me what I already knew (which is why I was stuck there, toiling over the ending.) He told me I could not end it the way I had planned because it would cheapen the characters and fall flat, and he was absolutely, positively, 100-percent right. I knew that I was breaking a few rules when I completed the novel, but - much to my surprise - this was the series that first "landed" me my first real writing success.

Honestly, I don't even know if I'd have the career I have without him, since he has been one of my biggest cheerleaders, and often financier, of this crazy, wacky dream I have to become a best-selling writer, award-winning screenwriter.

I dream big, what can I say?

Truth is, Steven is kind of the reason I dream big. I mean, I always dreamed big, but I was always afraid to share those dreams with just anyone, because I was afraid of hearing what I always heard. "Who are YOU to do anything so special?" Well, love kind of shows you how big you can dream because it shows you how truly special you are to the right people. I knew Steven was "the right people," almost from the moment we met. He's got all the nice guy stuff going on, but he's also brave enough to tell me the truth, whether I want to hear it or not. Not a lot of people do that, and the last thing I needed was yet someone else patting me on my head and pacifying me just to shut me up. Not Steven... he's always - always - endeavored to make me better, mostly because he's always believed I could do all the amazing things I wanted to do.

This is not just some biased opinion, by the way. Since he's been a voracious reader all of his life, I knew I could share my meager little stories with him from their infancy, and he could give me the critical feedback I needed to grow. When he told me I was talented enough to make this whole crazy thing work, I knew I could believe him. I started writing more, branching out to the even scarier, wackier dream of screenwriting, and pursuing opportunities I wouldn't have had the ovarian fortitude to chase without his encouraging voice in my ear, telling me I've got the goods and I can totally make it happen. He never once tried to talk me down to planet Earth, suggesting that I needed a Plan B if this didn't work. In fact, he's the one who says, repeatedly, that the best is yet to come.

This kind of has been the theme of our whole marriage.

I won't say that things have been perfect. We've had our share of hard times and pitfalls. Several notable years - which were always odd-numbered for some reason - we flew by the seat of our pants, juggling chainsaws, flaming swords, piranhas and scorpions in order to get from one day to the next. The road has been way rockier than it has ever been smooth. But thanks to my honey, my eternal Peter Pan, I've always had someone to pick me up when I fell. (And vice versa.)

We are the perfect fit. Where I'm high-strung and emotional, he's laid back and rational. We both share the same playful sense of humor, which keeps our spirits light no matter what shit storm we might be enduring at the time. And granted, there have been times of great frustration on both of our parts, but they have never shaken our core commitment to each other. We both know how lucky we are to have found each other. We'd rather be together and struggling than apart and "safe." At the end of the day, there's no one I'd rather come home to. There's nothing anyone else could ever offer me that would improve on what I have now. It's a million-dollar match without the million dollars. (But we're working on that. Take note, Universe. #powerofattraction #nameitandclaimit)

So this might explain why I became a little peeved in the early 2000s that women who looked like me in romance novels were *not* the ones walking away with Top Prize. *I* fell in love with, and caught, a Prince Charming, despite the fact I'm dismissed as "less than ideal." (I'm wording it nicer than it's ever felt, by the way.) So if *I* can do that, why was I not seeing that in the books I read? My story is just as true and just as valid as anything I'd ever read, so why was I reading about the Fat Girl who couldn't find herself a sweetie the way I had?

Especially the sweetest sweetie of the bunch, who makes me feel sexy and beautiful and valued with every kiss, every touch and every smile.

It really gave me a bad taste in my mouth regarding all those traditional romances I read growing up, the ones I thought I wanted to write. It took Steven to see that I didn't have to write about the perfect girl who didn't know she was beautiful, who was fawned over by the handsome, perfect man, who somehow deserved her happily ever after more than the normal girls, the average girls, the atypical girls, the alternative girls... the invisible girls.

As a protest to this, I penned my first Rubenesque Romance, LOVE PLUS ONE, in 2007, where I wrote the kind of story that I wanted to read. It was more sweet than sexy, because that's the gentle introduction into the world of romance that I wanted to make. I knew I'd have to ease readers into these waters. You may not know this, but there are readers who will bypass a book with a larger heroine because they think they would hate to read about sex scenes with larger, imperfect bodies. Sadly, many readers avoid books about atypical heroines because "it's not the fantasy," and that is why so many read romance in the first place. But see, that's the great thing about fantasy. The world is big enough for all of them, even *my* fantasy - which was falling in love and being loved in return, to be deserving of that love because she is so much more than a paper doll prototype, a true flesh-and-blood woman who wants only to be desired and chosen by the perfect man.

Way back in 1997, I landed my first agent, who shopped around an early draft of my book PICTURE POSTCARDS. Several publishers came back with the same criticism: the heroine is *too* perfect. Back then I was writing stories like I read, where authors like Danielle Steel dominated my TBR list. I bought into the hype of the standard fantasy forced down our gullet from Cinderella to Barbie to any number of popular heroines in mainstream fiction and movies: that women have to be beautiful to be loved. So I imagined what life would have been like had I been born one of the fortunate few. The reason that book failed to land an audience was because that is not my story to tell, so it wasn't authentic and fell flat. I don't know what it's like to be the beautiful girl who doesn't know she's beautiful, who lands the rich, handsome guy because of pure physical attraction. I'm the quirky, funny DUFF, whose qualities are hidden a little more under the surface. I know what it's like to fall ass backwards into love, where I question each and every suitor because I am never entirely convinced they could ever want someone like me, someone normal, someone average, someone atypical or alternative...

Someone invisible.

Enter Shannon McKenna and LOVE PLUS ONE. Shannon knows all about being invisible. As a size-12 awkward geek with an insanely perfect sister, she was used to being delegated back to the shadows, where she could write and daydream about a HEA, but never for once thought she'd find one of her very own. This is where Jake Dalton stepped in, her best friend, her biggest supporter - her Prince Charming in Waiting. Jake is patterned almost exclusively after my honey. Here are some key snippets where you'll see Steven waving from behind the words.

***
Jake infuriated her sometimes. He was so level-headed. If A happened, do B. No sweat. Well, dammit, she thought to herself. Sometimes there was some sweat.
***
“You look great,” he said. He always said that. She could be in curlers and a green mud mask and he’d say that, except he’d amend, “for an alien.”

***
The limo came to a halt in front of an outdoor recreation center. Shannon got the nagging feeling Rex was up to something dirty. When she saw the rock wall, she was certain of it.

Shannon wasn’t exactly the outdoorsy type, and there was that near pathological fear of heights thing. And she knew that Rex knew that because when Dixie had researched her show about phobias she grilled her entire staff out of curiosity, to see how common phobias were and how they affected daily life.

Despite that show, Shannon never really saw the need to tackle this particular fear. She had been very careful to cultivate an existence that didn’t move more than two feet off the ground. No high rises, no planes, no juggling act while balancing on a high wire. She even chose a ground floor apartment and worked in a one level studio. She had convinced herself it wasn’t really a phobia. It was a choice. A choice she made again and again in her life, usually through white-knuckled, hyperventilating terror.

Jake had absolutely no idea, but she had a sneaky suspicion he was about to find out.

Conversely, Jake was stoked as he surveyed the wall. He loved physical activity that tested his limits, and this was right up his alley. He listened intently and nodded with enthusiasm as their guide gave them the rundown. Shannon plastered a smile on her face, but inside she seriously fought coming unglued. She glanced up at the wall that had to be at least forty feet high, which was funny because that’s exactly forty feet higher than she wanted to go.

Before she could protest, she was trussed up in a harness and face to face with the Wall of Doom. Suddenly her arms felt like jelly and she just knew, without any doubt, that she was going to puke.

Jake had already crawled up on the wall. He glanced back at her. “Come on, Shan! I’ll race you.”

“Let’s not and just say we did,” she muttered. She tried to will herself to move but it just wasn’t happening.

“Chicken!” he called down. It was a friendly dig meant to get her up on the wall, but it didn’t work. She’d much rather be a live chicken than a scrambled egg.

The guide came over. “Everything okay?”

No, she wanted to say. Everything is not okay. Instead she made a joke, which was the Shannon way. “How strong are these things?” she asked and motioned to the harness.

He just smiled. He knew the type. He also knew if she gave it half a chance she’d have a great time and gain a new hobby.

With the patience of a saint he showed her again where to step and where to grab on. With his help she managed to make it off the ground. “Just concentrate on your next step,” the instructor told her. She looked no further than that.

It was slow going, especially with the way Jake was scaling the wall like some kind of superhero. But she didn’t feel she was doing too badly given the circumstances, and called back to the guide to say so.

That was when she realized the ground was about fifteen feet down. If she’d have stopped to think about it, it was really not that far away, just one little ol’ story really, but to her frantic mind she felt like she was on the edge of the Grand Canyon. Suddenly her heart thumped against her ribs and her limbs began to shake. She couldn’t breathe and it felt as though she might actually be having a heart attack.

She looked up, but that only gave her a mean case of vertigo. The world spun around her and all she could do was hold on.

She promptly closed her eyes and began to scream.

“Jake!”

Like a flash he propelled down to where she sprawled frozen against the wall. She was white as a ghost and shook so badly he worried she might be having a seizure of some sort. Tears poured down her face despite how tightly she clenched her eyes shut. “Shan?”

His soothing voice only made her cry harder. She shook her head. All she wanted was to get down, but she just didn’t have the guts. She may have only been fifteen feet off the ground, but it felt like she was on top of the Empire State Building.

He tried again. “What’s wrong?”

She barely opened an eye. “Heights.” It was all she could muster.

“You’re afraid of heights?” he asked, then glanced down at how far she’d come.

She nodded. “I want to get down.”

He touched her shoulder. “Okay.”

Only she didn’t move.

“Do you know how?” he asked finally.

She nodded again and cried even harder. Her hands gripped the wall so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Honey, you gotta let go,” he said softly.

She shook her head. She couldn’t even handle the thought. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he soothed. “Look how far you came. Getting down will be a cinch. You’ll be on the ground before you know it.”

Intellectually she knew that, but it was another matter convincing her body. Her heart raced. She couldn’t breathe. She visibly shook as she clung to the wall. “I can’t let go.”

He placed his hand on hers. “Then hang on. To me.”

She looked into his face. He was her Jake. She knew he’d never let her down. Finally she allowed him to take her hand in his.

“Trust me?” he said. She nodded. Together they kicked away from the wall and propelled down to the ground in one jump.

***

In fact, one of the key moments in their journey was a spectacular date at the Hollywood Bowl, which, aside from the obvious embellishments, was lifted directly from my courtship with Steven, who took me to the Hollywood Bowl in one of our first dates in 1999 to see John Williams conduct the LA Philharmonic under the stars. (And yes, this means that the Star Wars theme is unofficially one of our 'songs.')

The other key scenes heavily *heavily* inspired by my romance with Steven were the ones in Vegas. Vegas is our town. We fell in love there. We got engaged there. We got married there and renewed our vows there. We both even got our first tattoos there. Any chance I have to go to Vegas in any of my books is an homage to my darling hubby.

Because of Steven, you all got Jake Dalton, Graham Baxter, Jace Riga and Jonah Riley. (In fact, it occurs to me just now that the hero I wrote in 1995, when I wrote PICTURE POSTCARDS, ultimately came true with Steven four years later, like I had ordered him straight out of a catalog. See? Law of attraction. Thank you, Universe!)

These book boyfriends are my "nice guys," the sweethearts of the pack. They don't often get the same kind of following as my bad boys, which I think is a shame. The nice guys are the ones who help you raise your children. The nice guys are the ones who offer unwavering support as you follow your dreams, who never make you question their love or commitment. They're the ones who love you during all those crappy moments where you can't love yourself, and God knows a few of my heroines had a hard time with that. To me, these are the qualities that define a romantic hero. Each and every word they uttered was inspired by my real life Prince Charming, and so I kinda love them more. Loving a bad boy is easy. Finding a good man is a miracle... and has been my fantasy since I was a hopelessly romantic pre-teen girl.

So happy 14th anniversary to my love, who made that dream come true. You are my love, my friend, my soul's perfect mate. You truly are the reason I believe in love. From this moment on... and for always.

PICTURE POSTCARDS, author notes for your FREE FRIDAY READ

In 1995, Harlequin put out a call for new submissions with a specific slant. They wanted books that used the written word as an instrument to find romance. I came up with a plot that involved anonymous, romantic postcards that ended up in the wrong hands, in a comedy of errors to find true love.

At the time I was recovering from the emotional devastation of losing my youngest son, who had passed away January 1995 when he was only nine days old. I needed something light-hearted in which to immerse myself, so I tackled my first genre romance. Today it may be considered Chick Lit, or even a romantic comedy. Unlike some of my more angst-y stories, this one was written to be a good time: fun, flirty, funny, sometimes cringe-worthy, but uplifting good-time fluff.

Sometimes you just need it, you know?

Like I mentioned in the note for LOVE PLUS ONE, I initially envisioned my heroine as perfect as all the lovely ladies I had read about as a kid, when I would plow through Harlequin romances as fast as my aunt could pass them off to me. PICTURE POSTCARDS actually was the first to get an agent’s attention, but we ran into some trouble trying to sell it to publishers. They didn’t find Caitlin to be believable or relatable. She was, as they said, “too perfect.” I shelved the project for years, ultimately converting it into a screenplay years later. I figured I could leave how they pictured the affable Caitlin up to a casting director.

Bottom line, I wasn’t ready to give up on PICTURE POSTCARDS yet. I always loved the story, especially the nostalgic, almost whimsical, fairy-tale feel of it. Surely there had to be a way to make it work, I just had to find it.

As years passed I realized how dated my concept really was. What worked in 1995 wouldn’t work in the 21st century, and it seemed further and further out of reach with the introduction of each new gadget or gizmo. We are way more connected than we used to be, so finding love through misplaced snail-mail correspondence grew even more unrealistic by the year. When I decided to rewrite the story with a full-figured heroine, thus resolving the “too perfect” dilemma, I was then faced with the challenge of making my dated plot a contemporary story. It finally fit right into place with the realization there’s only one thing you can do with a modern day fairy tale: you tell it as a bedtime story. My solution enabled me to fall in love with the characters in a brand new way, simply because I got to see what their lives were like after “The End.”

For that alone, it was worth it.

Read the #1 rated sample here.

For Friday, January 4, 2013, you can download the entire full-length novel for a FRIDAY FREE READ as a Kindle e-book.

Enjoy!

Free reads for your Kindle and Cyber Monday deals

In the spirit of Cyber Monday, here are some freebies and bargains for you to enjoy for the holiday.

Check out SAN FRANCISCO SERENADE, a Christmas novella that is free for your Kindle Monday, November 26.



Also free for Monday is COMIC SQUAD. Check it out for the younger reader on your holiday gift-giving list.



For some sexy suspense, download TASTE OF BLOOD, the first book in the Reese Mackenzie franchise.



And for the Cyber Monday low price of only $3.99, you can download three of my Rubenesque romance novels in a convenient, low-cost bundle. That's less than $1.50 per book! This bundle is only available through the holidays, so act now to own all three books at these rock-bottom prices. (Fans of the GROUPIE franchise will want to get to know some of these characters, who will be making appearances in the third book in the GROUPIE trilogy, MOGUL, in February!)



Don't forget you can own both GROUPIE and ROCK STAR in a low-cost bundle! Just $5.99 for both, at a savings of 25% off the listing prices if you bought both books separately!



My titles are also available on All Romance eBooks, and for Cyber Monday there are significant savings, which will help fit any of my titles into your Cyber Monday Budget. ;)

So Happy Shopping, Happy Holidays and Happy Reading!!