The Vanishing Castle by Marlena Cannon blitz with giveaway
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Marlena Cannon
Matthew Lett
Publication date: September 23rd 2025
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery, Fantasy
A fantasy mystery with hooves and heart.
Simarron isn’t a detective, he’s just a centaur with a clipboard and a nose for trouble. He left his homeland to get a professional job in the city as a magical safety inspector. However, his new life isn’t quite as he imagined it to be and his fellow housemates at Slant Row Boarding House (which is definitely not haunted) are shadier than an enchanted forest.
When a castle disappears and an alchemist ends up dead, Simarron must choose between the cozy, safe rule-bound life he’s always dreamed of and the principles that won’t let him walk away. He is a safety inspector, after all, and the city isn’t safe with a killer on the loose.
A cozy mystery set in a richly imagined gaslamp fantasy world, The Vanishing Castle delights with magical intrigue, a quirky found family, and a centaur sleuth you won’t soon forget.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo
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EXCERPT:
So, you want to be a magical safety inspector?
Checking my pocket watch, I scuffed the moisture off my hooves as I entered the brick building. Inside, a framed newspaper article announced the founding of the Magic and Alchemy Safety and Health Administration just ten years ago. But the smell of dust, lamp oil, and crumbling paper told a different story, one far older. I caught a dim reflection of myself in the glass—enough to see that my auburn mane looked presentable—but I smoothed it down anyway while I waited.
My gaze restlessly traveled the shelves containing old books and magical oddities, including a globe of the world adorned with dynamic swirls of clouds that flowed over the model. The morning light streamed in from a pair of narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening the dark wood and heavy silence of the interior.
I glanced at my pocket watch again—one minute until my appointment. Inconveniently, the desk positioned outside the director’s office was unoccupied. Not a secretary in sight. Oh, no—they didn’t expect me to interview for a secretary position, did they?
An indistinct figure moved beyond the glass-paneled door. I shifted from hoof to hoof. What was I to do in this situation, knock or wait one more minute?
By the time I worked up the nerve to announce my presence, two more minutes ticked by. Dread slid its icy fingers into my chest, warning me that I was now late, and gave me the final push to act.
I reached forward to knock, pausing when I heard footsteps shuffle to a halt on the other side. I backed up awkwardly, my hooves clattering on the wood floor as the door swung outward.
“Hello, you must be Simarron! I’m Ken Moosekind, Executive Director of MASHA,” said a squinty man with a bushy mustache whose robes smelled faintly of tobacco. “Come in, lad, and mind your head.” He retreated behind his cluttered desk.
I ducked my head slightly, entering the office: a place of organized chaos. Books and files sat piled atop cabinets and shelves—even on the floor. Wood scraped on wood as I moved aside a chair and settled down on my haunches opposite the director.
Director Moosekind shifted a stack of papers aside. “So, Simarron, you want to join MASHA as a magical safety inspector, do you?”
Author Bio:
Marlena Cannon grew up reading “The Cat Who…” mysteries by Lilian Jackson Braun and writing stories of her own. She kept writing intermittently over the years, eventually pursuing her dream by completing the DIY MFA program in 2023, where she drafted “The Vanishing Castle,” inspired by one of her childhood projects. She also designed the cover using her background in graphic design. Marlena lives with her husband and their rescue rabbits.
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The Itch of Greed by Christa Nardi blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
The Itch of Greed
Christa Nardi
(Izzie Di Sante Mysteries, #6)
Publication date: September 22nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery
A dark cloud hangs over baseball season in small town Rosedale when star pitcher Randy Kampton is taken out of the game for good.
The DA is determined to pin the crime on Cole Rigley, a friend’s brother and fellow pitcher, citing the fierce competition for a major league trade as his motive for murder. Rigley’s brother, asks Henry and reluctant restaurant owner Izzie Di Sante to help prove his innocence. Adding fuel to the fire, Kampton stole Rigley’s girlfriend months earlier.
While Kampton’s pitching skills are universally acknowledged, no one, not fans or teammates, has a kind word to say about him, making for a long list of suspects. Rigley, on the other hand, is respected for his talent and team spirit. The wild card is another pitcher recovering from a car accident, whose open roster spot has all three men vying for the same prize.
In Rosedale, loyalty to the minor league team runs deep, and Izzie’s digging into the players ’pasts draws resentment from fans, police, and management alike. When the team’s PR person is targeted after meeting with her, the threats become all too real. The closer Izzie gets to uncovering the truth, on and off the field, the higher the stakes, and the more dangerous the game becomes.
—
CHAPTER 1:
An alert sounded on my phone as I entered Cenare, the Italian restaurant I owned with my sister Chloe. While Chloe was a foodie, I took care of the business side of things. Before our parents died, I freelanced as a journalist following homicides in New York City.
I was committed to the restaurant and Chloe, but my passion was murder, so I kept the homicide alerts coming. Occasionally, if one sparked my interest, I took some time to search out my next story. Homicides provided a rush the restaurant business didn’t give me. I put my things down on the small table in the kitchen area and pulled up the message.
“Breaking news! The Rosedale Thorny Bats will be hurting this season. Their best pitcher, Randy Kampton, died under suspicious circumstances. His body was discovered by the custodians in the Thorny Bats locker room early this morning. Stay tuned for details.”
The announcement prompted me to check my other sources for unsolved homicides, although I’d never heard of the Thorny Bats or Kampton. I assumed if the man was a pitcher, the sport was baseball. It was spring and our guests or employees occasionally mentioned
baseball. Growing up, Chloe and I spent most of our time in the restaurant. We lived and breathed Cenare.
My escape was writing. I knew from experience that the death of those close to you changed your life. My stories focused on the impact of a sudden death – usually a homicide – on those left behind. I found less resistance from law enforcement when I focused on cold cases or those that were stalled. Most often, my casual interviews with those who knew the victim provided clues to the killer.
Unfortunately, sometimes the killer targeted me. Having lived in New York City for five years, I was prepared for that, even in small town Pinewood, Maryland, where murders rarely happened. With the first ever murder in our small town a few years back, I clashed with the local police detective when the immediate conclusion was a burglary, and I disagreed. For the record, I was right.
With the murder of an athlete, Kampton’s death would likely be quickly solved if the alert was any indication. Not finding anything else of note in the alerts, I went through my morning routine of checking income, paying bills, placing orders, and taking inventory. At least I used my degree in business management. I preferred taking care of those tedious tasks before anyone else arrived.
As usual, Chloe arrived with a breakfast treat as I finished the accounting and started the inventory.
“Good morning, Chloe. Those look and smell delicious.”
“Thanks, Izzie. Help yourself. I got this idea in my head and combined ingredients from an apple brownie recipe and a cinnamon streusel cupcake. Ryan assured me they were more than edible.” With money from the estate and the restaurant, Chloe had completed her training at the culinary institute nearby. In and out of the restaurant, she often created dishes. Breakfast for me and whomever else wanted a taste tended not to be traditional Italian. For the restaurant, she kept with the family tradition and stuck to Italian dishes.
I chuckled. “I don’t know how you can cook here all day and then try out new things when you get home.”
“Well, Ryan brought some work home that he needed to get done like yesterday. Only he didn’t get the assignment until that morning.” She shrugged. “I got creative in the kitchen while he worked.”
Since she and Ryan married a few months ago, she hadn’t been as creative with her morning treats, though I could always count on her to provide my breakfast. When she took a week off for her honeymoon, I had to fend for myself, usually stopping at the local bakery on my way to work.
“It’s delicious! Not quite brownie and not quite muffin. Still very moist and I’m a sucker for cinnamon and apples. I’ll have to freeze some of these for the next time I see Henry. Now that he’s taken the detective exam and he may be working part time in Franklin, I hope to see him more often.”
Henry and I had started off as friends and our relationship moved forward from there. He was always a willing assistant and backup when I pursued a story. Helping me out prompted him to pursue his private investigator credentials.
“Speak of the devil.” I showed Chloe the phone, took the container of treats, and sat down at the table.
“Hi, Henry. How are you?”
“Good. I may have a case for you and wanted to give you a heads up. Do you have a few minutes?”
I grabbed a piece of paper off the nearby printer. “Sure. What’s going on?”
“You know the guy who always gives me a hard time about driving an automatic or having a family car? Phil Rigley?”
“Dark hair, hazel eyes, not quite as tall as you, and maybe a year or two younger. A southern twang.”
“That’s him. He called this morning, wanting my opinion. His brother, Cole, plays ball with the Thorny Bats. Cole contacted Phil this morning. Something about a player dying and the police interviewing everyone. Phil didn’t have many details, but he wanted me to look into it.”
My phone pinged with an alert. “I caught one announcement earlier and then another just came in. A custodian found Randy Kampton, a pitcher for that team, dead this morning. It was a sports broadcaster the first time, the usual police blotter the second time. Nothing else. Where did the Thorny Bats come from? Is there a new major league team in Maryland?”
“No. The Baltimore Orioles is the only major league team. The Thorny Bats is a triple-A minor league team out in Rosedale. The players are good and some eventually get picked up by a major league team. I played in college and a few of my teammates went on to the minor leagues. We lost touch but I may see if I can locate them.”
“The news I caught indicated a suspicious death. Thorny Bats is a weird name for a team though.”
“Minor league teams often have interesting names, usually related somehow to their location and often suggested by fans. Rosedale, thorns, and baseball bats – Thorny Bats. Makes perfect sense to me.” He chuckled. “Keep me posted. If it’s a homicide, Phil thinks his brother will be a person of interest. Both Cole and Kampton are pitchers, and Kampton stole his girlfriend.”
“Both would give Cole two motives. I’ll call you after lunch with any updates. Katie just walked in. Right now I best finish the inventory and start the lunch prep.”
Katie was a chef-intern from the culinary institute. We’d hired two to help Chloe and relieve her of 12-hour days. A brunette in her mid-twenties, Katie stood a good six inches shorter than my five foot ten, with the figure of someone who competed in gymnastics through high school and still used her gym membership. She added to Chloe’s energy in the kitchen. Chloe hummed and listened to her favorite tunes when not directing Katie. They worked well together and became fast friends.
Jerry, another intern, comes in mid-afternoon, when Katie leaves. Jerry towers over Katie at six foot. Husky, he looks more like a bodyguard than a chef. Before switching careers after twenty years, Jerry worked for stuffed-shirt lawyers as a paralegal. He burned out about the time his mother became ill. He started as a server and moved into the second intern position. Jerry’s personality and age lent itself to being a calming influence in the kitchen.
“Katie, be sure to try Chloe’s latest breakfast treat, but save some for Henry, please.”
She laughed. “Will do.”
Inventory done, I moved to the restaurant side. As I dressed tables, Jennifer, the manager, joined me. She became the manager when the original manager left. A long-term employee since before Chloe and I took over, Jennifer was in her mid-thirties, older than both Chloe and me. She continued in the role of server most often, but also helped with training new servers, and took on hostess responsibilities when I took time off to chase down a story.
As the waitstaff filtered in, I raced upstairs and put on a dress, a throwback to when our parents were alive. Our mother thought it added an element of class and set Cenare apart from fast-food places. As I reentered the kitchen area, I took a deep breath. I might not be a foodie, but the smell of the spices made me smile.
Lunch went smoothly and I fidgeted at the hostess stand. I wanted to check my computer and phone for any updates on the Kampton death. It had been months since a case grabbed my
attention. This time, it sounded like Henry and his buddy wanted me involved. I wasn’t too sure how the league, minor or otherwise, would appreciate me asking questions. Sometimes questions uncovered secrets best left untold, at least from their perspective.
Author Bio:
Christa Nardi is an accomplished author of cozy mysteries with an edge – still no graphic violence or sex or profanity, but touching on social issues. Christa’s background is in higher education and psychology, much as her protagonists, Sheridan Hendley in the Cold Creek and Sheridan Hendley mystery, along with Stacie Maroni in the Stacie Maroni mystery series. She has always loved mysteries – reading them, writing them, and solving them. She reviews books on her blog, predominantly cozy mysteries.
Christa is a member of Sisters in Crime and can be found on occasion at Bouchercon, Killer Nashville, or Malice Domestic. She writes four series: Cold Creek Cozy Mysteries, Sheridan Hendley Mysteries, Stacie Maroni Mysteries, and the Izzie Di Sante mysteries. Christa also collaborates with Cassidy Salem in writing the Hannah and Tamar Mysteries, featuring teen sleuth sisters.
When not writing or reading, Christa and her husband enjoy travel, their three grandchildren, and their dogs. Christa supports dog rescue and local shelters.
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Barnabas Bartholomew and the Undead Freshmen by Matthew Lett blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Barnabas Bartholomew and the Undead Freshmen
Matthew Lett
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Coming of Age, Fantasy
Death isn’t the end of education—at least not at UniverZity U., where fourteen-year-old Barnabas “Barney” Bartholomew is about to begin his freshman year.
As a recently raised zombie trying to make his undead mother proud, Barney must navigate the haunted halls of an underground mausoleum-turned-school, where strict Crypt Keepers enforce ancient rules and mysterious passages hide untold dangers. With fellow freshman facing expulsion for merely refusing to eat their grits, Barney knows he’ll need more than just good grades to survive. But when he discovers his beloved grandfather’s connection to this shadowy institution, Barney realizes there might be more to UniversZity U.—and himself—than meets his speckled blue eyes.
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EXCERPT:
“What in the heck is a lich?” Barney asked.
“It’s a member of the Undead class, like us, except it was brought back to life by a sorcerer or a necromancer for evil purposes.”
“What sort of evil purposes?” Barney asked. There was a knot in his stomach; a bundle of nerves resting on the edge of a guillotine.
“Hard to tell,” Pudgy replied. “Depends on what the sorcerer wants the lich to do. He could use it as an assassin, I suppose, to knock off his enemies, or as a bodyguard. Or in this case, a guard dog over a graveyard.”
“But why a graveyard? What would a sorcerer want in a graveyard anyway? And what if it’s not even there? This lich thing. Suppose it’s gone?”
Pudgy shrugged. “Then it’s gone and we don’t have to worry about anything. But if it is real, and there is a lich wandering around, it’ll be looking for souls to eat. That’s why we need the crucifix, to repel it.”
“’Souls to eat?’” Barney repeated. “Are you serious?” He felt light-headed for a second; the world beyond his eyes in a lazy swoon.
“Quite serious,” Pudgy answered. “That’s what liches do. They eat the undead, and if they can, they’ll eat their souls too.”
Barney’s face paled at the thought. An undead cannibal running around the graveyard? That’s what it was! An undead cannibal! The dead eating the dead, for Christ’s sake!
Pudgy caught the look on Barney’s face; pallid, the sickly color of cream cheese left out in the sun for too long. He snickered. “Hey, calm down. It’s a legend, remember? We’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Barney didn’t answer, his tongue frozen to the roof of his mouth, when Millicent cleared her throat. “Guys?” She tapped the face of her wristwatch. “We need to go if we plan on making curfew. You can discuss the ins-and-outs of liches later, but we need to move.”
“You’re right,” Pudgy said. “I’ll take the lead with the flashlight. Milly, you’ll be behind me. Barney next and then Marcy, and I don’t want you two kissing back there. Agreed?”
Barney blushed clear to his toes. Marcy smiled at him. Millicent laughed out loud and Pudgy winked at Barney, who was staring at the tops of his shoes with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah, okay…” he mumbled. “Funny, real funny, now can we go?”
And so they entered the southwest tunnel, its passages by now near memorized. It was more of a home away from home for the children; its twists and turns nothing more than well-travelled streets and avenues in their hometowns.
Barney stepped through (minus his flashlight which he’d given to Pudgy), when a thought struck him like a phantom stone in the darkness: Pudgy never fully answered my question, he thought. Why the graveyard? Why would a sorcerer (or a necromancer, for that matter) want a lich guarding a graveyard for him? Hmmm…
###
The trip to the graveyard took less than forty-five minutes, and the four of them arrived to find the wrought iron gates unlocked, and the tombstones shrouded in a silky mist of pale fog. A raven, with one eye missing, was perched on a spire atop the gate. It looked down at the children, as if considering their plight, then cawed in its shrill voice a single word they heard all too well:
“BEWARE!”
The raven took flight after its portent of doom. It did a hop and a half-skip, spread its wings, and then soared over the face of the moon reflected in the wavering mist. The raven disappeared as Pudgy opened the gate in a scream of rust. It was loud in the tranquil of the graveyard; as good as any doorbell that rings after midnight.
“Smooth move,” Barney quipped.
“Sorry,” Pudgy said. “I didn’t expect that. Let’s go.”
They walked through the gates; their eyes blind, sinking in what they could not see. Silence–the full-time caretaker of the grounds–greeted them. Distant thunder rolled over the clouds in the east. Lightning followed and took a snapshot of the graveyard for posterity’s sake.
And had there been a black cat perched on the back of a tombstone, with its yellow lamp-lit eyes and its spine arched in a splay of fur, it would not have surprised Barney in the least. The graveyard was spooky, if not picturesque in the simmering light of the moon; a mural better suited on the backdrop of a Halloween landscape.
“What now?” Barney whispered. The air was dank, hollow
somehow. There was no need to whisper, but the graveyard almost
demanded—dared that it be so upon its consecrated ground.
Author Bio:
Matthew Lett was born in Kassel, Germany. Currently, he lives in Sapulpa, Oklahoma with his wife of 39 years, and their two daughters, who also reside in Oklahoma. He’s also a Veteran of the United States Navy, serving on both the U.S.S. Saratoga and U.S.S. America aircraft carriers from 1985-1989. Matthew has been a prolific writer for over 20 years and is a multi-published author with an array of Novels, Novellas, Novelettes, and assorted short stories in a variety of genres. Most of his work can be found in Horror/Suspense/Mystery categories.
During his leisure time, Matthew enjoys rock-n’-roll music, attends church on a regular basis, watches Mystery Science Theatre 3000, reading, and playing with his 3 grandchildren. And of course, Writing. His books include such titles as, “He Who Walks the Corridors,” (Wolf on Water pub.), “Trail of Love and Death,”, “Woodview Heights: Legacy of Decadence” Trilogy and “Barnabas Bartholomew and The Undead Freshmen.”
Matthew Lett can be reached via e-mail for comments, feedback, and suggestions at matthew74107@yahoo.com
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Barnabas Bartholomew and the Undead Freshmen Blitz
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Sweet Nightmares by Hazel St. Lewis blitz
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Sweet Nightmares
Hazel St. Lewis
(Wicked Mirrors)
Publication date: September 17th 2025
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
She was prophesied to destroy an evil god, but she becomes his minion instead.
Jane Whitfield rose from nothing to become the youngest Prima Ballerina in the history of the Royalle Ballet—despite having a violent husband three decades her senior. But her carefully choreographed world shatters when her husband’s enemies come to collect his debts. Jane is tortured into making an impossible die, or strike a bargain with an evil god trapped inside a mirror.
Nightmare is ancient, cruel, and feared for a reason. He trades magic, wealth, and knowledge for soul-crushing costs—and he believes Jane is the witch destined to destroy him. But instead of killing her, he toys with her, offering a twisted sell her soul, serve him, and receive an endless supply of riches—enough to satisfy her wretched husband and his debtors.
Now bound to a god who revels in ruin, Jane becomes more than just his minion—she’s his growing obsession. But obsession doesn’t spare her from his darkness. He’s evil. She’s supposed to hate him, but the more time she spends in his realm, the harder it is to tell if he’s her monster… or her salvation.
She was destined to destroy him, but love might destroy her first.
Sweet Nightmares is an adult romantic fantasy Prequel/Sequel novel to Gilded Wicked Mirrors. It can be read first, or after GWMs. It is a touch-her-and-die, villain romance perfect for lovers of the Hades and Megara dynamic or fans of Kingdom of the Wicked. It is not a standalone.
—
EXCERPT:
Jane stood up and put her body between them just in time to be slammed between the Vampire Prince and the ancient god. At the impact, Nightmare’s hands wrapped around her waist, steadying her.
Nightmare let out a low, wicked growl. The whites of his eyes bleeding red, fury painted on every curve of his body, his fangs and metal nails bared. Ready to kill every mortal in the room if Jane didn’t do something quickly.
“Everyone get out now,” Jane said, her hand on Nightmare’s chest and her voice wavering. Her eyes never left Nightmare. “Thorne, my monster. Keep your eyes on me.” She dug her hand into his shirt while he tightened his hold around her waist. At the same time, she heard movement from all around them. Everyone else, leaving them alone in the room.
When he still hadn’t calmed down, and his eyes hadn’t lost any of the red, Jane asked, “How can I help you settle down?” Jane flattened her palm once more over where his heart should beat—but it never did. “What do you need?”
“I need to feed.” Nightmare’s eyes flashed, and he darted around, presumably searching for an unsuspecting human he could eat.
“Are you going to kill your food?” she breathed.
“Yes.”
“Do you have to?”
Nightmare blinked, his black, well-manicured eyebrows creasing together.
“Are you able to control yourself?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said slowly, cocking his head, his eyes fixating on her neck.
“Then feed on me.” She cocked her head to the side, giving him permission to take her blood.
“You may hate it.”
“It’s fine. I am not afraid of you.”
An unreadable sound vibrated in his chest, and then, without warning, he pushed her fiercely up against the wall, pinning her in and biting down on her neck.
At first, it hurt, his fangs piercing her skin and claiming her. It was a sharp pain, but then the wound began to tingle and turn… the feeling becoming something hot and pleasurable.
Every nerve ending in her body lit up with an intense feeling that she’d never felt before. A moan escaped her lips, and she suddenly needed to be closer to him, to be touching him, one with him.
Author Bio:
Hazel St. Lewis is a Northern California-based Romantasy author. Diagnosed with dyslexia at a young age, she struggled to read and write, but fantasy stories inspired her to start storytelling. Unfortunately, now, she is a little too obsessed with morally gray characters. When she isn’t writing, she can be found playing with her hoard of cats (too many to count…it’s a problem), singing songs to said cats, or painting.
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter
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Soulmates and Slapshots by Melissa Baldwin blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Soulmates and Slapshots
Melissa Baldwin
(Love in Maple Falls)
Published by: September 17th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports
I’m escaping the city. He’s chasing a fresh start. In a town full of surprises, love might be the biggest one.
Fiona
I’m a city girl turned temporary small-town resident—yes, I know, cliché. But after my life in Manhattan unraveled, I needed a reset. So when my aunt invited me to Maple Falls, I didn’t hesitate.
The slower pace is exactly what my burned-out brain needs. I’ve even made a few friends—including Weston Smith, a new player for the Ice Breakers hockey team who shows up when I need him most.
A local crisis draws me in, and suddenly I’m more involved than I ever planned. Maybe it’s the fresh air, or maybe it’s Weston. I came here planning to leave… but now, I’m not so sure.
Weston
Maple Falls is my fresh start—new team, new town, and a chance to prove myself. I didn’t expect to get wrapped up in this community so fast—or to fall for a certain city girl.
Fiona is bold and energetic, and I’m drawn to her more every day. When she’s pulled into a town-wide crisis, I don’t hesitate to help.
Maple Falls isn’t just where I play hockey—it’s starting to feel like the place where my future truly begins.
***
Soulmates and Slapshots is part of the Love in Maple Falls sweet hockey romcom multi-author series. In this slow burn, soulmate romance, a charming city girl meets a nice guy who falls first. Set in a small town with all the chemistry, but none of the spice.
Welcome back to Maple Falls—the small town where hockey players fall in love! This is a multi-author series of seven full-length books that could be read as standalones, but we think you’ll enjoy them best in order.
Fake-Off with Fate by Whitney Dineen
Offside and Off-Limits by Kate O’Keeffe
Checking Mr. Wrong by Anne Kemp
Skating and Fake Dating by Ellie Hall
Goalie and the Girl Next Door by Elsie Woods
Soulmates and Slapshots by Melissa Baldwin
The Icing on the Cake by Grace Worthington
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EXCERPT:
“Hi. Are you lost?” I ask.
Wow. That sounded like the worst pickup line ever, and I immediately regret saying it.
Before I can excuse myself, she turns around and gives me a curious look.
“No. At least I don’t think so,” she says. “Is Maple Falls even big enough to get lost in?”
I laugh. “That’s a good question.”
Why did I even say that? I’ve only been in town a short time, so I wouldn’t be able to help if she needed it.
“Honestly, I’m trying to decide what to do next,” she says. “I’m not used to having so much free time on my hands.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admit. “What’s free time?”
She gives me a casual smile. “So what recommendations can you give a Maple Falls visitor?”
I knew it. She didn’t seem like a local.
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, I probably won’t be much help since I just arrived in town myself.”
She smiles. “Ah, another new person. That’s a relief because I’m assuming everyone else in this town already knows each other.”
“Most likely,” I agree. “But you’re not the only newbie, so don’t worry.”
“What brought you to Maple Falls, Washington?” she asks.
“Work,” I reply. This is the truth. I just leave out the hockey part, and I’m not sure why.
She flashes a slight smile. “That’s a good reason.”
I’m trying not to stare, but this woman is stunning. So flawless it can’t be ignored. And it’s obvious she has a confidence and openness that instantly draws people in.
“And while we’re on the subject, what made you come to this booming metropolis?” I ask, before she catches me staring.
A flash of amusement spreads across her face. “I’m visiting my aunt, and I actually left a booming metropolis to come here.”
“Really? Where?”
“New York.”
Now it all makes sense—she has a city girl vibe. She’s confident, polished, and a little bit mysterious.
“Ah, the city that never sleeps. It’s a great place,” I say. “One of my favorites for sure.”
She nods slowly. “It is. But there’s something special about this little town too.”
“I agree,” I say. “I moved here from Tennessee. Not quite as fast-paced as New York, but more thrilling than Maple Falls.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t know…I’ve heard Maple Falls isn’t as sleepy as people think.”
“Really?” I ask, leaning in a little.
She lowers her voice dramatically, even though the only other people nearby are across the street. “I heard there might be a town scandal happening right now.”
“Ooh, now that’s interesting.”
“Yes, it is,” she says with a playful smirk. “And they even have their own professional hockey team.”
I laugh. “Yes, I’m familiar with the Ice Breakers.”
She tilts her head, narrowing her eyes at me with curiosity. “Hockey fan?”
I shrug, unable to hide the grin pulling at my lips. “More than a fan. I play on the team.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait—seriously?”
“Weston Smith, defense,” I say, offering my hand. I’m not sure why I added my player position, but it doesn’t matter now. Maybe she likes hockey?
She takes my hand and grins. “Fiona Hale. And wait until I tell my aunt. She’s going to lose her mind when she hears this—she’s a die-hard fangirl of your team.”
I chuckle. “We love our fans. I’m sure I’ll meet her sooner or later.”
She studies me for a moment, clearly still processing. “So, you’re a hockey player.”
Author Bio:
USA Today bestselling author Melissa Baldwin always dreamed of sharing her stories with the world. She brought this vision to life, becoming an award-winning, bestselling author of over thirty romantic comedies and cozy mysteries. Melissa is also a wife, mother, new empty-nester, and travel advisor.
Her books feature charming, ambitious, and real women, whom she considers part of her tribe. Although she rarely takes a day off, when she’s not writing, she enjoys quality time with her family, traveling, attempting yoga poses, and booking Disney vacations. Melissa still uses a paper planner, and her guilty pleasures include Beverly Hills 90210 reruns and General Hospital.
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Carries Book Reviews 
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