I decided to start the The Prada Plan Series by Ashley Antoinette. This series ties into two other series the author has out so I finally had the chance to read it. Please check out audio of my podcast sharing my thoughts on the first book of this series.
Date Published: August 7, 2026
Marley — I built the model. Denton stole the credit, sabotaged my numbers,
and tried to bury me in front of the client. Then Lucan walks in. Three nights
ago, he was the Dom who bound my wrists, stripped away my control, and made me
scream inside Sanctum Black. Today, he’s the client who can save my
career — or destroy it. He demands I lead the account. Demands a direct line
to me. And when he orders me back to his private room, kneeling and waiting, I
know exactly what he wants. Worse, I know exactly how badly I want to give it
to him.
Lucan — Marley thinks she can hide behind sharp suits, sharper words, and
professional boundaries. She’s wrong. I saw what she needed the first
night I had her under my hands. I saw the hunger, the surrender, the beautiful
way she fought herself before giving in. Her boss tried to take what belonged
to her. I handled that. Now I’ll handle Marley. I won’t break her.
I’ll bind her, test her, praise her, punish her, and make her beg.
She’s mine. By the time I’m done, she’ll say it. More?
She’ll believe it.
EXCERPT
Marley
I sat at my desk, staring at my finished project. Three weeks of work stacked
into a clean PowerPoint. The numbers aligned. The previous projections had
been spot on, and I had worked to complete this project and move to the next
phase for over two years. Now waves had started in upper management. The
completed work would not be presented by me.
My boss, Denton, had made that clear in his email yesterday. He would lead. I
would attend as backup for any questions he couldn’t answer. The email
didn’t mention why he’d pulled the rug out from under me, but I
had a good idea.
My phone buzzed. A text from the front: Denton wanting me in the conference
room now. I’d already sent him my presentation for review so I
couldn’t imagine why he’d want me early. Even with him doing the
bulk of the meeting, I still had prep work to finish.
With a sigh, I shut my laptop and slipped it into my briefcase before leaving
my tiny cubicle. The open-plan office stretched around me. No one looked
up… which was the first warning. The conference room sat at the far end
of the floor, all glass walls and polished table. I could see two junior
associates already seated inside, their postures attentive, laptops open.
Denton stood at the head of the table with the room’s projection screen
pulled down. The navy suit he wore looked expensive and tailored, his tie
perfectly straight.
I stepped inside and the door closed behind me with a soft click. Denton did
not look up from his phone. “Marley. Thank you for joining us.” He
set his phone down and reached for the laptop in front of him.
“I’ve made a few adjustments to the presentation.”
He opened the file to the first slide. My name in the bottom corner was now
gone, replaced by his name in a large, bold font.
He glanced up at me. “Optics. I’m sure you understand.” His
curt explanation cut me off before I fully processed he’d actually taken
credit for my work. His voice stayed level. I opened my mouth to object but
heard how petty I’d sound in front of my colleagues. “The client
expects senior leadership on engagements of this size. It’s about
inserting confidence into the relationship between our companies.”
Neither of the other two men in the room spoke up. Instead, they both kept
their eyes on their own screens.
“This is an editorial decision, not a reflection on your work.”
Denton smiled, though there was nothing remotely friendly or pleasant about
the expression on his face. “You’ll be in the room. You’ll
have the opportunity to contribute during Q&A.”
My heart pounded in alarm. He was edging me out. Denton had every intention of
taking credit for the work we’d done on the first phase. He knew enough
about the next steps to make everything work, but I doubted he could explain
the finer points, or keep the project on track to meet the projections for
phase two which would mean a significant delay in phase three. Assuming the
assigned team made it to phase three.
“I understand the optics,” I said. My voice came out clipped,
precise. Anything louder would give him what he wanted. “But the
analysis is mine. The client should know who built it in case there are
adjustments leading into phase two.”
“Of course.” Denton nodded as if I had said something helpful.
Then he pulled up a slide with a page I had never seen. A figure chart with
numbers that did not match any data set I’d worked with.
“I did want to raise one concern.” He turned the slide toward the
juniors. “This figure. The correlation coefficient here is significantly
off from the rest of the model. I caught it during my review.”
The room went very quiet. I stared at the slide. The numbers were wrong. They
weren’t numbers I had generated and they definitely didn’t belong
in my analysis. Nor had I put them there. Suddenly, everything made sense. The
way he’d undercut me in the first meeting when he’d replaced my
topic without notice. The way he’d taken credit for my work. He wanted
point on this project and the prestige that went with it.
“This is exactly the kind of oversight that concerns me,” Denton
continued. His tone had shifted to something gentler, almost paternal.
“Attention to detail matters at this level. The client will have
questions. We need to be prepared with answers.”
My whole body broke out into a sweat, the visceral reaction to the way
I’d just been undercut. My jaw tightened. The furrow between my brows
deepened, a physical response I could not control.
“That slide isn’t mine,” I said. The words came out steady.
Barely.
Denton’s expression did not change. “The file was submitted to me
under your name.”
“I didn’t build that chart. The numbers are wrong.”
“Then we’ll correct it.” He set the slide down. “The
important thing is that we caught it before the client saw it. That’s
what a senior review process is for.” Could he sound more patronizing?
Through the glass walls, I could see heads turning toward the conference room.
Not staring directly. The careful, sidelong attention of people who understood
exactly what was happening without needing to hear the words. The shape of a
public correction. The unmistakable geometry of a superior establishing
dominance.
About the Author
Welcome to Wanda Violet O.’s world of bedtime fantasy, where you’ll find a
variety of sexy creatures ready to drink their fill. Wanda specializes in
extreme kink. Monsters, BDSM role play… she’s got it all. Come take a look
for yourself!
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Teen and YA, Westerns
Date Published: 03-03-2025
Publisher: Adventure & Quest, LLC
Excerpt
A week on the ranch had really transformed me. I looked the part, like I’d lived here all my life. Before jetting from Seattle, I had an expectation of riding a fast horse over a wide prairie, the wind whipping my hair. Never had I imagined myself in baggy-butt jeans with pockets that sunk to my knees. They were heavier than any I’d ever owned, and fastened high on my waist, as if pulled up with suspenders. The shirt tail draped my back, and I had to roll the sleeves five times.
But the boots! Oh, I loved how they made me taller. They fit like clamps, as if my feet were growing in bark.
I clomped to the large picture window, plunked the sombrero Sabion gave me on my head. “Eesh.”
I look like a mushroom.
If Mom had told me from the beginning that Pap didn’t have horses, maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about coming. I had the idea of wearing the giddy-up home—I would walk right past her at the airport and she wouldn’t even know me. But then, what would’ve happened to Radar?
No. Destiny had brought me here.
Pap’s boots stammered on the porch. I couldn’t resist a cocky stroll past him—long, lanky strides that thunked my foot heel to toe. He sipped smugly from his coffee mug. Well, of course—nothing unusual to him. Just a set of sensible clothes.
Oh, well…as long as he’s happy—
* * *
Sabion’s smirk held a snicker. “Ah, si. You look…now you look right.”
I rolled my eyes. “Glug—”
Radar was pungent with horse sweat. Was it his timid nature that made me brave for him? A fearless front to give us both courage, like a parent protecting their child? Well, some parents. He sniffed my pant leg, and blew a snort that spewed junk on my knee. Now they’re broken in…
“How much time do I have today?” I asked. Sabion had honored his agreement to let me use Jennie half a day for training, but I’d already wasted a slip of his morning trying to make the blasted blue jeans work.
He looked at his watch. “None today. I am here too long already.”
“An hour?” I pleaded.
Sabion shook a finger. “Yesterday you say to me, ‘This day I will make repairs to the corral.’ You forget this? Now you say, ‘Este día voy a hacer reparaciones.’ Mas importante.”
I tried not to laugh. Sabion could never scold. Though he tried to sound tough, it only made him look leathery. It was kinda weird that I was beginning to understand him when I didn’t even speak the lingo.
“But you’re here already. I can make the repairs when you leave.” My plan today wasn’t to repair the corral; my plan was to string those blasted bells together while I had the workbench to myself. Then I’d reveal my fun training plan to Sabion when he returned.
His shoulders caved, the argument lost. “One hour okay is all.” His words netted altogether.
About the Author
Drawn to action and adventure that is grounded in real life, Katlyn finds inspiration in the wildness of the world around us. “Nature doesn’t care what we think. It’s wild and ferocious and unpredictable—a good reminder not to take ourselves too seriously. The downright ridiculous seems to call for a twist of humor. What I can’t see, I can imagine.” Juggling family, work, and life, over the years Katlyn grasped whatever time she had available for a writing class when she could—poetry, creative, a bit of journalism. What she discovered was that stories come from deep within us…a moment. A memory. An experience or impression or dream. Only when they surface, can you add texture and color.
A late-bloomer by her own description, Katlyn’s writing kicked off when she joined Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI), a community of like-minded people who selflessly share, uplift, and guide, one meeting at a time. “There’s so much to learn, just for the listening. Other writers energize me, challenge me to ‘say it better’. Everyone has a natural style, and it always amazes me how many ways there are to tell a story. From SCBWI to the Writers’ League of Texas (WLT)—where Nightflower of Comanche Mound was a 2022 Thriller/Action-Adventure Finalist in the Manuscript Contest—on to Western Writers of America and Women Writing the West (WWW), Katlyn has found that it’s networks of writers that encourage her “No matter what stage of writing skill, anyone, at any age, with a yearning to write should seek out others who love what you love. Don’t wait.”
A native Texan, Katlyn Bates lives near Dallas, TX, outside a small town that—like so many inter-connected communities, is quickly becoming absorbed by the sprawl. “As for me, it’s open skies and nature and landscape that frame a plot, and lend power to a story.”
Narrative Nonfiction/Inspirational
Date Published: August 4th, 2026
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
On the beaches of Southern California, Ken Kisco learned that preparation
saves lives. From rip-current rescues to split-second emergencies, he
discovered that courage is not the absence of fear, but the decision to act in
spite of it. Those early lessons in resilience and composure pushed Ken to
believe he could accomplish anything . . . including his lifelong dream of
reaching the stars.
Through relentless perseverance and unwavering faith, Ken rose into the heart
of America’s most advanced space and defense programs, contributing to
human spaceflight initiatives and supporting groundbreaking technologies. His
unusual start as a lifeguard helped advance his career, distinguishing him
from his Air Force and Navy peers. Yet, his toughest challenges were
personal—he faced deep disappointment when a space mission was canceled
and learned lessons about trust and integrity from a romance-turned-ruse.
Ken’s journey reveals that success is rarely linear. Setbacks became
launchpads, adversity became refinement, and purpose became a compass. Part
memoir, part inspiration, and part behind-the-scenes look at America’s
quest for the stars, this is the unforgettable story of a man who proves that
bold dreams, combined with grit and heart, can launch an ordinary life into an
extraordinary one.
As an aerospace systems engineer for NASA, Rockwell International, and Boeing,
he developed new technologies and earned recognition as an American Institute
of Aeronautics and Astronautics (AIAA) Fellow.
Ken now shares his passion by mentoring USC engineering students, inspiring
them to dream boldly. When not traveling, he and his wife enjoy San Diego’s
beaches, where they live.
Instagram: @Kennasaman
Purchase Link
She thought chemistry only existed on the page, then he set
her world on fire.
Burnout
Love Burns Series Book 7
by Isobel Reed
Genre: Small-Town Romance, Romantic Comedy
She thought
chemistry only existed on the page, then he set her world on fire.
The only men in Lucy’s life are fictional. Which is fine. So fine. At
thirty, she is happy with her life. She has a ride or die best friend. A cute
little ginger cat to snuggle with. And an apartment full of books. What more
could she possibly want? Well, before Jack Jones swaggered into town, with his
designer suits and British accent, the answer was nothing. But now, here he is,
showing up where she works, calling her beautiful and making her question
everything.
Jack Jones had it all. High-powered job in the city. Fancy apartment. Women
offering to warm his bed every night. Then he blew up his life. Now, he’s in
small town Wyoming, doing damage control while babysitting his sister’s kids.
There is one silver lining though… Lucy Mills. He felt a spark during his first
visit to Woodvalley Pines, when he’d shamelessly flirted with her at the diner
where she worked. Three years on, she’s somehow even harder to ignore. She’s
everything he’s been searching for. If only she’d just let him in.
Return to Woodvalley Pines one last time with this swoon-worthy opposites
attract romance packed full of chemistry, charm and Isobel Reed’s signature
witty banter. Burnout is perfect for fans of Book Lovers by Emily Henry and The
Flatshare by Beth O’Leary. Whether you’ve already devoured the other books in
the Love Burn Series or are enjoying it as a standalone, you won’t want to miss
this final book.
**Releases Sep 8 – PreOrder Now!**
Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Bookbub * Goodreads
“You okay?” Bethany’s hand went to Lucy’s forearm.
“I don’t think you’ve spoken or taken a breath in the past six minutes. I’m
beginning to get concerned that the lack of oxygen has cut off the supply to
your brain.”
Her best friend was hilarious.
“I just remembered that I forgot to leave food out
for Daisy-Mae. I need to go.”
Yes, she was being dramatic, and no, her cat did
not need to be fed, but she didn’t care. She lived a relatively drama-free
life, so she was allowing herself one tiny little freak-out.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Bethany narrowed those big
green eyes at Lucy. “I’m not letting you run just ’cause the mysterious Jack
has arrived.”
Jack Jones, the hottest man Lucy had ever seen in
real life, had indeed just entered the room. With floppy dark hair, piercing
blue-green eyes, and a ridiculously symmetrical face, he was darn right
dangerous. Throw in height, muscles, and a designer suit, and he was
practically a health hazard.
The sight of him alone was clearly enough to break
her. But the sight of him currently being introduced to his three-month-old
nephew? She wasn’t sure she’d ever recover.
Annnnnd … my ovaries just exploded.
Cool, cool.
Who was she kidding? There was nothing remotely
cool about her. Which was exactly why she needed to get out of there. Before
she melted into a puddle, in her friend’s living room, on her pretty abstract
rug.
That wouldn’t be a good look.
It wouldn’t be. Yet, she wouldn’t put it past her
traitorous body. Apparently, it had control issues around this man. Which was
stupid, because she’d only met him once for Pete’s sake. Three years ago. When
he’d shamelessly flirted with her at the diner where she worked.
Oh no. He’s coming over.
Abort! Abort! Get out of there now!
Only she couldn’t. Her so-called friend had
noticed Jack’s slow-motion swagger toward her, and amid Lucy’s internal panic,
Bethany had sneakily grabbed hold of Lucy’s arm and was keeping it hostage.
“I hate you,” she whispered to Bethany, her voice
full of the venom her friend deserved.
“You love me.” Bethany had the audacity to laugh.
As soon as their gazes locked, she felt it. That
same feeling she felt all those years ago, one she had started to believe she’d
imagined. Until now. The skin on the back of her neck prickled. Her body
flushed. And her stomach swooped. Deep down, a part of her accepted that this
was just her body enthusiastically reacting to an attractive man. But still,
the knowledge that she’d gone thirty years without ever feeling this
instantaneous chemistry before made it feel significant.
The closer he got, the hotter Lucy felt. It may be
January, and Woodvalley Pines may be under a blanket of ice outside, but under
her off-the-shoulder cream sweater, there were some questionable things
happening. She may even be forced to throw out her bra.
I love my bra.
Wow. That was a sucky thought. Great. Now she was
angry, flustered, and sad. Just in time for Jack to enter her space.
Close enough for her to see the fierce intensity in his eyes, giving her the
overwhelming urge to find the nearest blanket and crawl under it.
“It’s Lucy, isn’t it?” His voice was deep and
smoother than silk. Did she mention he had a British accent, too? Because … of
course he did. “We met a few years ago … at the diner.”
Don’t miss the rest
of the Love Burns series!
Find them on Amazon
Isobel was born and raised in London. While she’s a city
girl at heart, she loves daydreaming about running away to a charming small
town—though she’s not entirely sure her husband and son would share her
enthusiasm for the move. When she’s not writing small-town romantic comedies or
growing unhealthily attached to the characters in her books, you can find her
reading, chasing after her very active toddler, or attempting to channel her
inner domestic goddess in the kitchen (with varying degrees of success).
Website * Facebook * Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads
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the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
Enter the Burnout Cover Reveal Giveaway Here
Father Sebastian has found a home in St. Augusta College.
But when that home is threatened by a student, questions arise in his own
beliefs.
Sacred Salvation
Part of Sins of the Sacred
by Casia Pickering
Genre: Dark Priest Romance
St. Augusta College is known for weaving the Arts with
Theology. Within its iron gates lies a prestigious education that can drive a
person mad.
Father Sebastian Hardwicke is new to the position. Not once has his religious
fervor been tested until he is sent to the cathedral on St. Augusta’s campus.
The school is not what he expected. Hymns and prayers echo within the
cathedral, and the faculty are pious and helpful. Even the students held a
reverence he had only experienced in seminary. On the outside, it is perfect.
But a mask is still a mask, no matter how enticing.
Emilia Trent has two goals in life: to convey true emotion into her art and to
quiet the voices. But the voices have gotten louder, screaming and demanding
that she keep painting. There is no freedom in her expression. With the new
priest coming to campus, her urges grow to a point where she no longer knows
who she is. There is an almost paranormal force growing inside her.
There is only one person capable of holding the demon at bay- Father Sebastian
Hardwicke. But will he choose to face the evil head-on or fall into the deep
embrace of temptation?
Part of Sins of the Sacred, a
dark priest romance shared world series featuring eleven amazing authors.
“I don’t think there is a demon
inside you,” Sebastian sighed, “that wasn’t my intention-”
“My father died when I was
starting high school,” Emilia said. “He used to drive freight trucks at
night. During one night, a nasty storm happened, and, well, it crashed. He was
in the hospital for weeks until we couldn’t keep him on life support.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian said. He
looked off into the distance, as if heweres lost in his own thoughts.
Emilia shrugged. “I’ve had
depression ever since. My painting helps with it and so did a therapist when I
had one, but it isn’t because of my depression that I struggle.”
“What is?” Sebastian asked.
Emilia thought quietly. She
glanced at Sebastian. Without the white collar pinned into his polo shirt, he’d
look like any other well-dressed man. It was that and the type of shirt that
seemed out of place with his jeans and glasses that he was constantly pushing
back up the bridge of his nose. She wondered what made him choose the life he
chose.
Was he a believer, or was it
pushed onto him by people around him? She remembered an argument she had with
her mother about maybe joining the military to help pay for college. That was
before the art contest and scholarship that got her into St. Augusta. As much
as she stressed about being at the school, she wouldn’t change her choices if
she had the chance. But her knowledge about Father Arthur, Sister Rebecca, and
Miranda would be for Sebastian. It may not be her responsibility, but it was
something Emilia didn’t want on her conscience.
“I’d rather not talk about it,”
she finally decided, shaking her head, “no offense, but I doubt you’d take my
life experiences into consideration if I told you.”
“What do you mean?” Sebastian’s
eyes furrowed in confusion.
“Imagine being abused or having a
bad relationship with a friend or something,” Emilia said, “can you do that?”
Sebastian’s expression went still.
It was as if he were seeing something from his past. A pang of guilt hit
Emilia’s chest. If she had known he might’ve experienced something like what
she was suggesting, she might not have said that.
“Okay,” Sebastian whispered, “go
on.”
Emilia nodded. “Let’s say you told
someone about that experience, but that person you told didn’t believe you
because the person who abused you or the friend who was awful hasn’t shown that
side of themselves to that person. Can you imagine how that feels?”
“I can.” Sebastian’s voice was
raspy and hard. He worked his jaw and rolled his head from side to side.
A squirrel jumped from headstone
to headstone as birds twittered. His cheeks were bulging from the collection of
nuts. The leaves rustled as another autumn breeze brushed past. Emilia looked
around at the quiet beauty of it all.
Even the voices weren’t around.
Emilia looked around, this time paying attention to every small detail. There
was no fog or shadows. The only brightness that held her attention, aside from
the slowly dying sun, was Sebastian. It was as if the cemetery was an oasis
away from whatever plagued the campus.
“That’s why I’m not ready to say
anything,” Emilia said. “I don’t know if you’d believe me or not, but it’s
not worth saying if we end up arguing.”
About the Sins of
the Sacred series
The Sins of the Sacred dark romance shared world series
brings together standalone stories by multiple authors, each exploring the
collision of faith and forbidden desire within religious settings. From
medieval abbeys and dissolution-era monasteries to modern churches and
theological colleges, priests, nuns, exorcists, and other religious figures
face temptations that challenge their sacred vows. The series spans various
time periods, incorporating paranormal elements including demon possession,
angelic intervention, and exorcism that intensify conflicts between duty and
desire.
With diverse pairings including M/F, MM, F/F/F, and MFM
configurations, each book delivers explicit romantic content while exploring
themes of religious trauma, repression, and the struggle between devotion and
forbidden longing. The series features omegaverse dynamics, second chance
romance, and enemies-to-lovers tropes alongside darker explorations of
possession, crisis of faith, and the psychological impact of religious
structures. Designed for readers seeking taboo romance that examines the
tension between sacred vows and human desire in emotionally complex narratives.
Find them on Amazon!
Even though she claims she can write anything, the biography
remains to be Casia’s arch-nemesis. Despite this, Casia has used her Writing
degree to craft stories in over ten anthologies, maintained a book blog for
more than a decade, and has begun to write novels. A multi-genre author, Casia
Pickering, is incapable of keeping to one thing. Every story has a piece of her
personality that she treasures and shares with her readers. She currently lives
in the Hampton Roads area of Virginia with her biggest supporter and helper,
her son, affectionately known as Bug. Previous works are under the name, Casia
Courtier.
