Author Jody Holford
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One of my favorite things

3/20/2019

 
I love seeing my words put together with graphics (by someone who's actually good at it, unlike me lol). Lucky for me, the lovely Nicole Blanchard of Indiesage makes my words look so pretty. I feel like I've been waiting so long for Story of Us to come out and I'm so happy it's out in the world. Thank you so much to everyone for your support, RTs, encouragement and kindness. 

Five

3/13/2019

 
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Six

3/12/2019

 
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The countdown begins...

3/11/2019

 
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CAUGHT LOOKING

1/6/2019

 
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I'm so excited to be re releasing this book. It's a very important one to me. Not just because it was the book that finally hooked my agent but because it was one of those books that just had to be written. The idea popped into my mind about a woman who had everything but felt empty. When Frankie stumbles across three boys, squatting in her deceased aunt's home, she learns what the meaning of fulfillment is. She starts to find herself by loving the boys and her guarded but hot next door neighbor, Ryan.

All of the characters in this one spoke so easily to me. Frankie, who just wanted to find her "home". Ryan, who wasn't sure what life was without baseball. And each of the boys who dealt with life's blows in their own ways yet relied on each other. The book, ultimately, is about family. And how, it's not always the one you're born into that has your back. Or your heart. 

I hope you enjoy it.  
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Happy Holidays to everyone

12/23/2018

 
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Chapter One
~Tis the season~

 
For some people, Christmas was just a day. Maybe, a season; a once a year grand occasion. For Abby Smith, it was everything. Her love of the holiday combined with her fond memories of Christmas’ long ago, strengthened her determination not to let being alone make her lonely. Her laser focus and intense worth ethic allowed her to make a career out of Christmas. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.  

“You’ve got Mrs. Edenbury on her way in,” her assistant said through the intercom.
The speaker system was probably unnecessary as she could hear Kimberly’s voice outside her door, even with it shut. Abby liked the professionalism of it though.

After working out of her home, she took great pride in this space. As office spaces went, hers was tiny, but it was functional and meant she didn’t have bins of Christmas stacked to the ceiling in her equally small apartment. It was located in the older district of Sweets, New York, which kept the rent more reasonable than anything closer to the hub of town.

Abby stood up behind the pretty, knotted pine desk she’d found in an antique store down the block, and smoothed down her black skirt. And so, it begins. A smile bloomed on her face. It was fitting to start the season with one of her longest, and most special, clients. With thirty seconds to spare, she adjusted the buttons on her holiday cardigan—it was never too early— and walked to the door to open it before one of her favorite people could knock.

“Abby!” Mrs. Edenbury said, holding out her arms.
Walking into the hug, Abby inhaled the delightful smell of the woman’s light vanilla fragrance. Being the owner and CEO of a beauty product company meant this client never looked or smelled anything less than perfect. Like Christmas commercials, it was a sign that the season was once again upon her and the thought, the smell—the idea—made her stomach dance with joy.

“It’s so good to see you, Mrs. Edenbury. Please, come in.”

Abby went back to her seat behind the desk while the older woman, dressed impeccably in a wine-colored pant suit, took a seat in front of her. There wasn’t a trace of grey in the woman’s side-swept, dark hair—another testament to the woman’s own beauty products. One of Abby’s original clients, Mrs. E had been more of a mother figure to her than her own mom in the last few years. At Christmas time at least.

For several years now, her mother refused to spend the holidays in Sweets, regardless of Abby’s pleading. Meeting Mrs. E and bonding over their mutual love of the season made it difficult to keep her interactions strictly professional. To say Abby had a soft spot for this woman, was putting it mildly.

“How are you? You’re early this year,” Abby said, picking up a pen, her notepad ready with the date and client name written at the top.
“I’m wonderful. Business is booming. I told you my son, Finn, had come to work for me, right? I’d say there’s nothing better than having your children grow up to become your employees, but I’m not altogether convinced that’s true yet.”

Mrs. Edenbury leaned forward set her over-sized, black purse on the floor and Abby smiled, thinking that this woman, with her elegant posture, perfect suits, and easy smile was a contradiction. She seemed tough as nails, but Abby saw the tenderness in the way she referred to her son. Finn. Finn Edenbury. It was Abby’s job to know her clients, their lives, their families, and how to make their idealistic visions of the holidays come true. When she’d been getting her business off the ground, focusing on Christmas only hadn’t paid the bills, so Abby organized and executed other events and celebrations. Those were beginning to take a backseat to this season though and nothing could have thrilled her more.

“How is Finn?” Abby asked. Though she’d never met the man, she knew a fair amount about him. He’d been married, had a child, and in the last couple of years, divorced. It was interesting to Abby that someone she’d never met had such an impact on her life. When she’d been starting her party-planning-event-assistant business, Mrs. Edenbury had tasked her with the job of finding the perfect venue for Finn’s engagement party and seeing to all the event details. His life events, in a sense, kick-started her career. Decorating Mrs. E’s house for the holidays had been Abby’s step in the direction she’d longed to take.

“He’s a Scrooge. It’s not his year to have Melody for the holidays and it’s turning him into an absolute grouch. He refuses to talk about the holidays, never mind plan for them,” she answered, her eyes glowering, but with a slight sheen to them. 
Abby smiled, leaned back in her chair. “Well, to be fair to your son, we’re still a week away from Thanksgiving and a lot of people don’t plan for the holidays until it’s past.”

Mrs. Edenbury leaned forward, her hands on the desk when a knock interrupted whatever she was going to say. Kimberly, Abby’s part-time receptionist-slash-assistant, pushed open the door with her hip, bringing in a tray of gingersnaps and hot chocolate.

“Sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to bring in some refreshments,” Kimberly said.
She smiled at Mrs. Edenbury, set the tray down on Abby’s desk and with a quick wink and a grin, left the room. All part of the holiday packaging, Abby thought. They were well rehearsed, though things felt more natural with some clients more than others.
Standing to come around the desk, she passed one of the mugs of cocoa to Mrs. E before taking the other for herself. Leaning against the edge of her desk, she waited for the woman to continue venting. Knowing the woman’s tendency to chat, Abby had cleared a longer than usual block of time in her calendar.

Mrs. E took a sip and sighed. “Delicious. Every time. Where was I? Oh, right. It’s not just that it’s too early, Abby. Finn says he won’t celebrate the holidays at all this year. Oh, he’ll come for Christmas Day at our house, but when I asked him about decorations and menus for the staff party, he said he didn’t care. If he’s working for me, I want him to care. We have an example to set and I’ve always prided myself on making the holidays special for my employees. Do you know Finn told me he isn’t even decorating his home? That’s just not acceptable.”

A tiny flicker of uncertainty sparked to life inside Abby’s stomach. She could plan a menu for 250 people, put together gift baskets that rivaled Academy Award swag, but she couldn’t make people have Christmas spirit.

“Lots of people don’t feel as strongly about Christmas—or any holiday—as you and I, Mrs. Edenbury.”

In her five years, she’d had plenty of Scrooges try to rain on her holiday parades. The holidays could be a very difficult time and not everyone enjoyed them. Abby understood that, but it still made her sad. Her mother was one of those people and if she had a magic formula for infusing hearts with holiday cheer, Abby would have used it already.

Mrs. E picked up a gingersnap as she set her mug down. Breaking the cookie in two, she looked up at Abby with a frown.
“Call me Patricia. For goodness sakes, you’ve been buying my Christmas presents and arranging every event I’ve had for the past five years. And it doesn’t matter if he likes the holidays as much as I do. He has a child now and he needs to make sure that traditions and sentiments are carried on even if he doesn’t have a wife to see to it. Who ever said it was the woman’s job anyway? Not that she did it herself, which I’m not judging, but Melody goes back and forth between both houses. She deserves to have her parents put their best effort in, even if she isn’t there full-time. What’s he going to do next year when it is his turn to have Melody? Besides, I don’t want him going home to his house devoid of any holiday spirit and sitting by himself every evening. He’s been curmudgeonly since the divorce. The only thing that makes him smile is Melody. I…”
​
Her voice broke and Abby’s heart cracked a little. This woman wasn’t worried about Christmas. She was worried about her son.
She grabbed a tissue and passed it to Mrs. Edenbury. Taking it, she sniffled delicately and smiled. “Thank you. Sorry, dear. I want to give my son a very special gift this Christmas. I want to remind him that there are lots of reasons to be hopeful, that magic still exists, and that the holidays are the perfect time to forget all our other troubles. I want to give him more than Christmas spirit, Abby. I want to give him back a little bit of faith in humanity. And I’m hiring you to do it.”
 


Welcome back to Angel's Lake

11/18/2018

 
I have a soft spot for Angel's Lake and I wasn't quite sure what to do when I found out my rights were being returned to me. After listening to a few people who are smarter than me, I decided to re-release this one and three others. I love Lucy and Alex's story and I hope you will too. Each of the books I'm going to share over the next 5 weeks has a special place in my heart. I hope you will enjoy this read and I'm so proud to put it back out in the world. Special thanks to Christina Hovland for the gorgeous covers and Nicole Blanchard for formatting and extreme patience. 
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​Figuring out how to move forward means she has to go back.
Lucy Aarons never thought she’d tire of travelling the globe taking photographs but when she comes home to the small town of Angels Lake for a visit, she’s, surprisingly, not eager to leave.
Part of that might be due to the sexy, sweet Sheriff who lives next door to her parents.
Alex Whitman has only ever wanted three things: to have roots, to be a cop, and to win Lucy’s heart. He’s managed two of the three and now that Lucy is home, he plans to pursue the third.
After being gone for years, Lucy is trying to figure out where she belongs in her large family. What she discovers turns her world upside down.
Alex is trying to live in the moment and enjoy whatever time he has with Lucy before the wanderlust kicks in again, but the more time they spend together, he wonders how he’ll ever let her go. 
Release schedule: 
Falling For Home......................................November 19, 2018
Falling For Kate........................................November 26, 2018
Some Kind of Anthology.........................December 3, 2018
Damaged....................................................December 10, 2018
Caught Looking.........................................January 7, 2019 

Random musings about music, pictures, and words

10/25/2018

 
Happy Friday everyone! Hard to believe that my first cozy mystery will be out in the world on Tuesday. Hope you'll give it a try. I've been thinking a lot about how much emotion songs invoke and how, sometimes, it takes a whole book to do the same. When I have teasers made, I always think the image and words together capture that similar kind of emotion. Like a snapshot of the powerful moments in my books. I just wanted to share some of those images today because I like looking back at them and remembering that I created those moments in print even though others helped me capture the meaning with their artistic wizardry (talking to Tanya and Nicole here ;) 
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Holiday Sneak Peek

8/6/2018

 
Because I'm getting antsy to share, I'm letting you see the first chapter of book 2 in the Love Unexpected Series, NEVER EXPECTED YOU. I'm excited for you guys to meet Stella and Zach.  It might not be a holiday where you are, but it is here, so Happy B.C. Day! 
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With all the things she’d been through in the last year, Stella Lane had no intention of letting a bird get the best of her. She stared up at the pain-in-the-ass-albeit-kinda-cute parakeet
trying to poke holes in her good intentions. It was just after ten a.m. and she was ready to call it a day. She wasn’t even supposed to be working today, and she’d already helped a Great Dane through a tricky delivery, given shots to a very sweet kitty, and had her purple Converse puked on by a nervous labradoodle.

Just another day at the office. She grinned, thinking it could be 
worse. Right now, the bird was just flying around. At least he wasn’t dive bombing her or leaving messes everywhere. The bird chirped, mocking her as it flew a little higher in the reception area.
“Come down here and say that,” Stella sang out in a syrupy voice. She crooked her finger, like somehow that was a magic spell. She snorted out a laugh. Didn’t work on men, it wasn’t likely to work on a damn bird.
As she inched toward the other side of her waiting room counter, she kept her sight glued to Pedro, certain those marble-sized eyes were sparkling with mischief. Stifling a yawn, Stella reached up and held out a hand, willing the bird to perch on her fingers.

When the door behind her swung open, she whirled. She was not the bird’s biggest fan at the moment, but she was pretty sure her owner wanted her back. Seeing as this particular owner actually paid in cold hard cash rather than most of Brockton Point’s preferred currency of casseroles and favors, Stella needed to keep the animal safe.
“Close the door. Quick,” Stella called, looking up into a gorgeous set of eyes that were somewhere between gray and blue.
​

Wow. When she’d signed up for another veterinarian practicum student, she hadn’t considered he might be smoking hot. Truthfully, she hadn’t thought much about it at all, since it
was routine. But this guy was enough to make her forget she was on a mission to catch a bird. Business and pleasure do not mix. The lesson might as well have been tattooed on her skin. Plus, Hot Guy was late, and that was as irritating as Pedro’s taunting. Okay, squawking, but it feels like taunting.
The heat of summer and the scent of cologne wafted through the door before he could get it closed. It was a powerful combination, but Stella regrouped and turned back to the bird.

“Bird trouble?” the man asked, his voice low and amused.
She sent another quick glance his way. He was easily a foot taller than her, but that was nothing new. At five feet, most people towered over her. Those smoky blue-gray eyes stared
back, crinkling around the corners. His dark hair was cut short on the sides and perfectly styled on the top—like the thirteen minutes he was running behind had been used to sculpt it into
submission.
“You could say that. You’re a bit late,” she answered. Cut him some slack. It’s not Dexter’s fault Pedro’s owner thought he could walk right in and drop off his pesky pet.
The student’s brows rose. “I’m sorry?”
Stella noted the light gray T-shirt and jeans, thinking that while they looked damn good on him, it wasn’t the typical student attire for the first day. Most practicum students—especially
those in their final leg—were eager to impress the veterinarian they worked with in hopes of securing a position. Not that she was hiring. Unfortunately, free labor was all she could afford.
She had a solid relationship with the University of Maine and didn’t want to wreck that by snapping at her newest recruit. Or hitting on him. It was hard to ignore the fact that he looked
more like he’d walked off a movie set than a college campus.

Focus. The last thing she needed 
was to cut off the supply of free, educated help. Pedro eyed the new guy, who took small, soft steps and made a clicking noise with his
tongue. Stella appreciated the initiative.
“She startles easily. Have you worked with many birds?” Stella asked, moving with a stealthy slowness to shut one of the open exam room doors.
“I’ve worked with a few different breeds. Mostly tropical.”
Interesting. She wondered if he’d done any of his earlier schooling overseas. She would have loved an opportunity like that, but her goal had been to come back and work with her dad.
That had trumped any other job offers. The bird fluttered her wings. Oh no you don’t. With the doors all shut, Stella knew it was just a matter of time. She hadn’t been able to give Pedro an
injection, but the bird was older and likely to tire soon.
Pedro cooed at Stella’s new student. Actually cooed. Traitor. “She likes you,” Stella said, trying not to scowl.
Maybe Pedro could sense Dexter Braun’s—which was the name on the files she’d received earlier that week—patience. Animals sensed emotions and Stella’s were riding high.

Running on too little sleep and knowing she had to ask a big favor of a petty person later today had stretched her nerves thin. When Dexter shot her a lopsided smile, her belly rolled over like an easy-to-please puppy. You’re as bad as Pedro. You might as well coo. Nope. No. No. Not only would she be his boss, but she didn’t do relationships. Ever. Not anymore. Flings, sure. Though even those had become a thing of the past. For the last several months, all she did was work. A work fling would be convenient, except for the multitude of gray areas. Gray was an off-limits color in Stella’s world. Black and white suited her just fine. She thought about his eyes again but didn’t let herself look. She needed more caffeine.
Her brain didn’t usually travel so many tangents at once.
“Did you hear me?” Dexter asked.
Stella widened her eyes and realized she’d completely zoned out—and it wasn’t even about work.
“No. Sorry. What did you say?”
“If you sit in one of the chairs, she might feel less threatened. Both of us shuffling her into a corner probably makes her nervous,” he cautioned. Holding a muscled, tanned arm out in a
way that showed a hint of dark ink near the cuff of his short sleeve, he placed his palm upward.
Stella sat and watched. “She’s not nervous. She doesn’t want a shot.”
Dexter smiled. “Parakeets are quite intelligent. Perhaps she senses your underlying disdain for her.”
Stella arched a brow, unsure if she was amused or annoyed. Mr. University of Maine Veterinarian School certainly wasn’t shy. “Well, Dexter, if she’s that smart, she’ll realize drawing blood is immediate grounds for disdain. If you’re smart, which I’m guessing you are, you’ll realize the combination of being bitten by our clever pal, not having enough coffee, and
having a practicum student arrive late are grounds for irritable outbursts.”
Dexter’s eyes widened. “Actually, I’m not—”
Stella held up her hand. “Shh!” Did Pedro just move closer? The parakeet seemed to have shifted down the wall. Dexter grabbed a dog treat from a bowl on the counter and crumbled some
of it into his palm, once again holding it face up.
“Come here, girl. You’ve caused enough havoc for one day. Come on down and say sorry to the pretty doctor before she gives in to one of those outburst urges.”
Despite herself, Stella grinned. “Right. She’s so not coming down for me.”

Stella had a feeling females of all species listened when the sexy-doctor to be spoke in that low, gravelly voice he’d just used.
Pedro inched along the wall at a diagonal, coming closer without a lot of wing movement. Dexter patiently held his hand aloft and leaned against the reception counter.
“Is it always this quiet in here?”
Stella laughed. “No. Honestly, it hasn’t been this quiet in months. But I was supposed to be closed today.” So I could meet you and then go grovel to the bank.
Dexter crossed his ankles over each other and turned his gaze to her instead of the bird. “Is Pedro an overnight visitor?”
“No. I was coming in to check on some of the animals and Mr. Sutter caught me outside before I could tell him I was closed. I rarely am.”

Since they were waiting on the whims of the bird, Stella decided to use the time to her benefit. She had a standard routine with new students, starting with getting to know them. “Why vet school?”
He glanced at her, seemingly weighing his words.
“I kind of fell into it actually. I always wanted to work with animals, but I joined the army and realized the number of animals impacted by combat is disgustingly high. It didn’t seem
right, so it became my focus.”
Admiration and warmth filled her chest. He’d done a lot in a short period of time. She’d had lots of late bloomer students, but she’d thought his paperwork said early twenties. That was a
lot of experience for someone so young. The idea that he’d put his heart and talent into animals in such conditions was more swoon worthy than the flex of his biceps when he stretched out his arm and rubbed two fingers together, calling to the bird again.
“Have any of your rotations included surgery?” Stella asked, afraid to move when Pedro lowered her position about a foot.
Before he could answer, Pedro swooped down toward Dexter’s outstretched palm and actually settled on his arm.
“Son of a bitch,” Stella muttered under her breath.
“Hi, sweetie. Hungry?” The bird pecked at his hand.

Stella rose slowly as her show-off student stroked the bird’s feathers. The stupid bird actually preened. Dexter’s hands were large, with long fingers that easily wrapped around the
Pedro’s body, preventing the bird from spreading her wings.
When he looked at Stella, his smile made her stomach somersault again.

With a cocky 
nod of his head, he asked, “What now?”
Stella laughed quietly. Gesturing for him to follow her into the exam room Pedro had escaped from, she glanced over her shoulder. “Let’s see how docile she is for you while I give
her a shot.”
Dexter’s chuckle vibrated in the small, sterile room and sent shivers over Stella’s skin. Or maybe it’s just cold in here. Right. It was cold.

They made it through the shot a lot easier with four hands, and when Pedro was back in her cage, dozing off, Stella breathed a sigh of relief. Dexter was making himself comfortable, looking around the open reception room while
Stella wrote up her notes. She’d never had a student with such…sex appeal? A sculpted body? Mesmerizing eyes?
“Confidence!” Stella closed her eyes when she realized she’d blurted the word out loud.
“Pardon me?” Dexter moved closer, but she refused to look at him.
“Uh, nothing. I’m just making notes.”
“You’re putting something in your notes about Pedro’s confidence?”
Stella looked up, and sure enough, Dexter had crowded way too close, his eyes locked on hers doing strange things to Stella’s sorely deprived libido. “I am. Yes.”
Right. Stick to your story. The look on his face proved he didn’t believe her. 

Straightening, she closed the file and walked to the cabinet to put it away. She needed to reattach her walls of professionalism. This guy had definitely caught her at a weak moment, and she prided herself on not having many.
“There are no other patients in clinic today, so I’ll show you around, but I do have some errands I need to run in a bit. Plus, I have farm visits. You can fill out some paperwork and then
we’ll head down to the stables. I need to check on my horse.” Just the thought of spending a few minutes with Chocolate Chip made the tension slip from her shoulders. Too bad she didn’t have time for a ride today.

Grabbing her boots from under the counter, she switched her Converse for them, then grabbed the clipboard with the paperwork.
“So, listen,” Dexter said, taking the clipboard from her after looking at it like it might bite him.
Now he was nervous? Stella headed for the door with him on her heels. It would be easier to rebuild those sex-starved barriers if she wasn’t breathing in the delicious smell of him. Six weeks. She could handle six weeks with a sexy, smirky student if he was as competent as he appeared. They’d barely stepped off the porch of the clinic her father had built before she was born when a tow truck came rumbling up the drive.
​

Stella shielded her eyes to block the already hot sun. Dexter shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“You fix cars as well as animals?”
“Not so much,” she replied, not recognizing the tow truck driver or the passenger.
The big truck pulled a small, beat up two-door vehicle behind it. Her own dogs, Nacho and Soda, howled from the wraparound porch of the farmhouse she’d grown up in. It sat a short walk away on a small incline.
The tow truck driver parked, and the guy in the passenger side rushed out, almost bailing on the gravel drive.
“Slow down, guy,” Dexter mumbled.
Stella winced, amused at Dexter’s commentary but worried the person rushing them would face-plant in her clinic parking lot. He reminded her of one of her labs as puppies, all feet and ears.
“Something I can do for you?” Stella called as he continued to rush over to her.
Dressed in light chinos and a button up shirt, he straightened his shoulders like he was just now thinking of making a good impression.
“Hi. I’m so sorry for being late. Are you Doctor Lane?”
Stella’s brows scrunched together. Dexter mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “uh-oh.”
“I am. And you are?”
He stopped in front of her, his breath choppy and his smile crooked. He had curly dark hair and the slightest hint of stubble on his young-looking face.

“I’m Dexter Braun, ma’am. From the University of Maine Veterinarian Program. My faculty associate arranged my practicum with you. I truly apologize for being late. My car broke down about fifteen miles from here. I tried to call but it went to voicemail.”
Stella’s heart hammered uncomfortably. Turning slowly, she saw who she thought was Dexter staring at her with an abashed forgive-me grin.
This ought to be good. This is exactly what happens when you get sucked in by sexy eyes and a killer smile.
She covered her chagrin with a glare. “Who the hell are you?”
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Kiss of the Royal Cover Reveal!

3/19/2018

 
Lindsey Duga is one of my agency AND publishing house mates. A while back, I had the pleasure of reading one of her stories. I have no doubt that this debut is the first of many excellent books you're all going to enjoy! Congratulations Lindsey! 

Let us know what you think of the cover for Kiss of the Royal by Lindsey Duga, which releases July 3, 2018!

This cover reveal is brought to you by Entangled Teen.

About Kiss of the Royal:

In the war against the Forces of Darkness, the Royals are losing. Princess Ivy is determined to end this centuries-long conflict once and for all, so her new battle partner must succeed where the others failed. Prince Zach’s unparalleled skill with a sword, enhanced by Ivy’s magic Kiss, should make them an unstoppable pair—but try convincing Zach of that. Prince Zach has spent his life preparing for battle, but he would rather be branded a heretic than use his lips as nothing more than a way to transfer magic. A kiss is a symbol of love, and love is the most powerful weapon they have—but try convincing Ivy of that. With the fate of their world on the line, the battlefield has become a testing ground, and only one of them can be right. Falling for each other wasn’t part of the plan—but try convincing their hearts of that.

Want to read more? Pre-order your copy of Kiss of the Royal by Lindsey Duga today!

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About Lindsey Duga:

Lindsey Duga is a middle grade and young adult writer with a passion for fantasy, science fiction, and basically any genre that takes you away from the real world. She wrote her first novel in college while she was getting her bachelor’s in Mass Communication from Louisiana State University. Other than writing and cuddling with her morkie puppy, Delphi, Lindsey loves catching up on the latest superhero TV show and practicing yoga.
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