Short story that features in the December 2016 newsletter complementing the Guild Hunter series.

    She has held down a job since before she could drive, and moved into her own apartment after her freshman year of college. Now tending bar at The Red Door, Cami doesn’t have time for much else besides work and classes, until a trip to see her boyfriend is cancelled, leaving her with a first weekend off in almost a year.Trenton Maddox was the king of Eastern State University, dating co-eds before he even graduated high school. His friends wanted to be him, and women wanted to tame him, but after a tragic accident turned his world upside down, Trenton leaves campus to come to grips with the crushing guilt. Eighteen months later, Trenton is living at home with his widower father, and works full-time at a local tattoo parlor to help with the bills. Just when he thinks his life is returning to normal, he notices Cami sitting alone at a table at The Red. As the baby sister of four rowdy brothers, Cami believes she’ll have no problem keeping her new friendship with Trenton Maddox strictly platonic. But when a Maddox boy falls in love, he loves forever—even if she is the only reason their already broken family could fall apart.

    She has never even been on a weekend away with her boyfriend. Everyone knows she is just not the adventurous type.But, when her boyfriend doesn't turn up for their romantic mini-break, Nell has the chance to prove everyone wrong.Alone in Paris, Nell meets the mysterious moped-riding Fabien and his group of carefree friends. Could this turn out to be the most adventurous weekend of her life?

    Though she'd doused it quickly, a sizzling, ultra-feminine awareness had flared in her eyes in that brief moment they'd met his, along with a sweet blush she'd fought with adorably, stubborn defiance. Damn, she was cute. And intriguing. With that quiet, kitten gaze of hers still mulishly refusing to look his way again, she was drawing him in, hook, line, and sinker.Holy Hefeweizen...It was bad enough that the faint scent of one of her dark ales was lingering on his lips in that sexier-than-sin sort of way, but candying it atop steamy eyes and a gentlemanly sweet center to boot was just plain unfair. He was cowboy-in-the-city sexy with a laughing smile and all sorts of promised temptations radiating from him. And he always smelled like chocolate. With his scorching hot gaze, he was completely lethal to everything that kept her tame.The night Luke and Dani met, they really should have gotten each other's last names. More importantly? Each other's occupations.See how the chocolate vs. beer throwdown between chocolatier Luke Bradford and beer brewing beauty Dani Dobson gets started in this prequel novella to LOVE, CHOCOLATE, AND BEER.*****NOTE FROM AUTHOR: THIS PREQUEL IS NOW TOGETHER WITH BOOK #1: LOVE, CHOCOLATE, AND BEER AS A NON-SEPARATE FREE PREQUEL (meaning when you download Book 1, the free prequel will be at the start of it). IT HAS NOT BEEN AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD SEPARATELY SINCE DEC 2014. IT DOES *NOT* NEED TO BE DOWNLOADED SEPARATELY.*****

    No commitment. No strings. Now she’s found the perfect guy — and it’s not me. I should move on, but I need her. And I never back down from a fight. Now I've got one last lesson for her: I’m going to make her mine.

    It was raining sideways that morning, and my plan was to return it the next day; safe and dry. Only I kept it. I kept it, and I read it. A week later, overwhelmed with curiosity and feeling guilty for harboring secrets that didn’t belong to me, I tried to return it. Only I wasn’t expecting to meet him. Unapologetically heartless and enigmatically sexy, he claims he knows nothing about the journal I found outside his place, but the reticent glint in his blue-green gaze tells me otherwise. There’s something different about him; something damaged yet magical, and I’m drawn to him; pulled into his orbit. There’s just one problem. The more I get to know him, the more I’m positive the journal belonged to him... ...and the more I find myself hoping, selfishly, that I’m wrong.