Overboard by Roxanne D. Howard


Piper released the docking line from its cleat on the back of the cruiser yacht.

“Last line’s cast off, Jack,” she called over her shoulder. He hollered back in response,

and she took one last look at the pretty shoreline of Catalina Island. In stressful times,

there were certain places one could visit in one’s imagination, special memories that

brought peace or a wistful smile to one’s face when the sights, smells, and tastes were

recalled. Catalina would forever be such a place for her, wherever her road in life with

Jack took her.

She turned around and walked through the semishade of the deck lounge to the

helm where Jack stood and checked their bearings. A pleasant warmth spread inside her

at the sight of his impressive muscular frame beneath the outline of his loose white shirt.

She rubbed a little hand sanitizer into her palms as he reversed out of the dock. He

glanced at her, and she kissed his cheek. “Greatest holiday ever. Thank you for

kidnapping me. Now, back to reality.”

Jack’s thick brown hair lifted with the light breeze as he turned the boat. “Bah.

Reality’s overrated. I did a sweep of the entire yacht, every nook and cranny. I’m pleased

to report no runaway convicts or stowaways aboard.”

“Thank God. Though I have to admit, Diego did give the trip a lot more

excitement than it would have had without him.”

“Oh, come on. Is sex with me really that bad?”

She shook her head and grinned. “Yes. Anyway, we’ll have to send him a cupcake

in prison when we get back.”

“As long as it doesn’t have a nail file in it.” He winked. “I love it when you wear

your curls loose, by the way. It looks nice.”

She rewarded him with a radiant smile. He’d made it his mission to please her in

every possible way since they’d come to Catalina, and it left her feeling pampered and

relaxed. “Thank you. I like the open-throated pirate look on you.”

“I wonder why.”

“No idea.” She slid her palm over the warm flesh of his broad chest.

He kept his gaze on the ocean but rubbed the tops of her fingers with his free hand.

“The waves are calm today. I didn’t expect that. Ready for your New Year’s

broadcast tonight?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. I’ve watched the ball drop on TV, but I’ve never

taken part in a countdown before. We’ll broadcast intermittently, but it’s still pretty

exciting. You’ll come to the company get-together before my segment, right?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. You’ll do great, Piper.”

She made a face. “We’ll see. I’ll do better with you there, even if it’s off to the

side. After how blissful it’s been the last couple days, I don’t want to separate and go

back to the real world just yet.”

He met her eyes. “Who says we have to?”

She kissed him and cupped his jaw with her palm. It was remarkable how a love

you didn’t know was absent from your life could enter and take it over so completely and

in the best of ways. She drew back. “You gonna let me steer again? I promise not to


The corner of his mouth tilted up, and he reached over to a peg near the helm and

took down his white captain’s hat. He fitted it onto her head and gave her a little salute.

“Ship’s all yours, Cap’n.”

He stepped aside, and she took the wheel.

“Very good, Mr. Spencer. How does the hat look?”

“It looks yare.”

She laughed. “Now there’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. Isn’t it from that

old Katherine Hepburn movie? I didn’t think people still said it.”

His finger stroked down the length of her arm as she steered, and a sweet tingle

spread through her body at the featherlight touch.

“My dad was old-school, and he liked to turn a good phrase or two. I’m serious. I

like the cap on you. I’d love to see what you look like in it and nothing else.”

Her pussy tightened at the raw need in his gaze, and she grew wet. “Be careful

what you wish for, Captain Spencer. You just might get it. Take over the wheel for a

second. I need some water. Are you thirsty? Can I get you a glass?”

He took the wheel from her, and his eyes gleamed with lust. “Yeah.”

She skimmed her fingers along his and rounded the corner to the kitchenette area.

She poured a glass of water from a gallon container and toyed with a wicked idea. Over

the past few days, she’d learned she could be as playful as she wanted with Jack, and he

responded precisely how she needed him to. She looked down and tugged at her nipples,

the mental image he’d painted just a moment ago fresh in her mind.

She bit her lip and set the water down as her pussy throbbed. She ran her hand

between her legs to soothe the ache. She shed her shirt and the rest of her clothes and left

them in a pile on the wooden floor. Her body had grown attuned to his, and she needed

his touch.

They’d made love once this morning when they awoke, but they were alone out

here on the open sea. Her time in Catalina with Jack had taught her that if she asserted

herself and showed him what she wanted, he gave it back to her tenfold. And right now,

she was ready for it.

She fixed the brim of Jack’s captain’s hat over her brow, picked up the glass of

water, and sashayed toward the helm. She cleared her throat. “Would you like your water


Costa Mesa Series
Book Three
Roxanne D. Howard
Genre: Contemporary erotic romance,
action/adventure, suspense
Publisher: Loose Id, LLC.
Date of Publication:  December 27, 2016
Cover Art by Bianca Duarte
Design by April Martinez

ISBN: 978-1-68252-255-4
Book Description:
At the end of their romantic holiday getaway, Piper is one loved-up woman, and she can’t get enough of the sizzling passion she’s found with Jack after all they’ve been through. The two lovers board Jack’s yacht and leave the idyllic hamlet of Catalina Island, California to head home for New Year’s Eve, and it seems nothing could be more perfect… until the day turns on a dime, and the waters rise. When Jack receives a radio distress call from an old friend out on the open ocean, their initial efforts to free a trapped, massive blue whale soon becomes a dangerous struggle for life or death when Jack risks everything to save it.
It’s a New Year’s Eve fraught with harrowing danger, narrow escapes, daring rescue missions, and heart-pounding passion. During their countless obstacles, Piper secretly discovers something shocking slipped into Jack’s coat pocket one time after they make love, and it threatens to change everything and rock the foundation of all they’ve built together. With the weight of the knowledge pressing down upon her, can their love survive? This New Year’s Eve, get ready for some fireworks, because it’s all going Overboard.
About the Author:
Roxanne D. Howard is a romance novelist who resides in the mid-western United States. She is a U.S. Army veteran, and has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. She is also an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and loves everything related to marine biology. She enjoys spending quality time with her husband and children when she’s not writing. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and she can be contacted at author@roxannedhoward.com.
To find out more, please visit her website: www.roxannedhoward.com


Warriors of Lemuria Series by Rosalie Redd

“You escaped. Perhaps I should put you in the dungeon.” Noeh’s voice was low and

threatening. The resulting shiver that skated across her arms wasn’t from fear.

She wanted to pound her fists against his body. “I’ll just pick my way out of there, too.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

He stood. Against her will, her body responded to his intense stare. He headed straight for

her, a wall of pure, masculine strength.

She stilled as he approached. Without thought, she squeezed the wet rag in her hand.

Water dripped onto the exam table. The stone was slightly concave, and the moisture ran into a

small groove down the center.

He placed his palms on the surface of the table and leaned in. Up close and personal, he

invaded her space as if he had every right.

“I don’t usually have trouble with disobedience, but you…” His eyes glowed, gold flecks

mixing with the blue.

She met his gaze and didn’t flinch. “I think you like the challenge.”

The skin around his eyes creased as a smile broke across his face. “You might be right

about that.”


Untouchable Lover
Warriors of Lemuria
Book One
Rosalie Redd
Genre: Paranormal romance
Date of Publication: January 2, 2016
ISBN: 9781944419004
Number of pages: 400
Word Count: 86,000
Cover Artist: Melody Simmons
Book Description:
Forbidden love. Untouchable…
King Noeh wants to live his single life, fight his enemy, and honor his goddess by winning the war over Earth’s most precious resource—water. Bonding to a female shifter is not part of the plan, not until his goddess insists he take a queen by the next full moon or lose his crown. When he rescues a beautiful female from the enemy’s grasp, a forbidden attraction blooms, and he must decide between his kingdom and his heart.
Melissa hunts for a new place she can call home, one far away from her controlling master who vowed to make her his concubine. Captured by the enemy and tortured to near death, she’s rescued by a brooding, handsome king. When her master shows up at the king’s underground Keep, the tension escalates. She struggles to keep the honorable king at arm’s length, but she can’t ignore the compelling desire he ignites in her soul.
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Unforgettable Lover
Warriors of Lemuria
Rosalie Redd
Genre: Paranormal romance
Date of Publication: March 2016
ISBN: 9781944419028
Number of pages: 155
Word Count: 33k
Cover Artist: Melody Simmons
Book Description:
The Betram ritual, when the full moon occurs on the summer solstice, is a sexual rite—and a requirement—for all unbonded Stiyaha of age. The irresistible urge to mate drives their inner beasts. Some succumb and transform, while others hide behind masks. None can escape the compelling need.
For Leonna, Betram offers one night of freedom from a destiny she doesn’t want. Eager to participate, she’s drawn to a formidable male whose tenderness burrows into her soul. Despite discovering she’s below his status, she is caught up in their passionate frenzy, and loses her heart to a male she can never have.
Though reluctant, as an unbonded male, Prince Nicholai must participate in the Betram ritual. Because he fears harming anyone he gets close to, he dons his mask and vows to stay in human form. What he doesn’t expect is the intensity of his hunger for a certain honeyed female hidden behind a disguise. As much as he longs to forget her, he can’t, for she’s unforgettable.
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Untamable Lover
Warriors of Lemuria
Book 2
Rosalie Redd
Genre: Paranormal romance
Date of Publication: May 2016
ISBN: 9781944419066
Number of pages: 320
Word Count: 73k
Cover Artist: Melody Simmons
Book Description:
Submit…or lose him forever.
As alpha of the feline shifters, Demir will do whatever is necessary to protect his kind. When his independent and headstrong second in command takes on a dangerous solo mission for revenge, he goes to her aid. As they battle the enemy, not only must he must fight his internal demons, but also his desire to claim her as his mate.
Battle-hardened Aramie leads a band of female warriors to search for the sacred blue sunstone. The unthinkable happens and she spirals into a frenzied need for vengeance to avenge her loved one’s death. She hunts for the killer while Demir’s life is on the line, and she must decide—submit to him as his mate, or lose him forever.
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Unimaginable Lover
Warriors of Lemuria
Book 3
Rosalie Redd
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: 1/3/17
ISBN: 9781944419103
Number of pages: 290
Word Count: 67k
Cover Artist: Melody Simmons
Book Description:
A shifter and a human together? Unimaginable…
One careless decision. The colony betrayed. Tanen’s only course is a desperate hunt for justice, but his solo mission is cut short when he’s mortally wounded. Rescued by a sweet, innocent woman, he can’t deny the passion that burns between them. Now he must choose between his duty and honor or his desire for the precious, but forbidden, human female.
Broken promises and ruined love hardened Sheri’s heart. When she finds an injured and extraordinarily sexy man on her property, she’s pulled into a world she never imagined. As she nurses him back to health and they bond over their love of books, she’s torn between the lessons she learned from her rough past and the need to seek solace in Tanen’s arms, but she must learn to trust him, and herself, in order to survive.
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About the Author:
After finishing a rewarding career in finance and accounting, it was time for Rosalie Redd to put away the spreadsheets and take out the word processor. The award-winning author pens paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy romance in her office cave located in Oregon, where rain is just another excuse to keep writing.

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Twisted: The Girl Who Uncovered Rumpelstiltskin’s Name by Bonnie M

Chapter 1 Excerpt

The morning mist had almost lifted in the village of Stanishire, the farmers and fishermen

were readying the market, women were shouting chores to sleepy children, and Aoife was on her

way to collect her father from the town brothel, where the painted ladies entertained men’s

nocturnal needs.

When she reached the main street, she dismounted and tied her horse to a hitching post.

She walked around the corner of the brothel where no one could see her, adjusted her skirt, and

ran her fingers through her hair. Practice had taught her how to jiggle the finicky latch so its

reluctant grip released and granted her entrance. The back hallway was dark and quiet. Maggie,

the young girl who helped cook and clean, was opening windows to release the sweat and

perfume-laced air. Broken glass littered the floor, and cards from unfinished games lay scattered

on tables.

“Maggie,” Aoife whispered.

Maggie turned into the dust motes in a sliver of daylight. Over the years, Aoife had

learned to call her gently and not to sneak up on her lest she startle the young girl as she had

done the first time they met here when Aoife was eleven and Maggie just nine.

“Eeeeef-uh!” Maggie’s eyes lit up as she called Aoife’s name. She had always over-

enunciated each syllable in what sounded like a sigh of relief.

She took hold of Aoife’s hand, pulling her around the corner and into the kitchen, one of

the only places in the residence that passed for a respectable room.

“Wait here,” Maggie said, kissing Aoife on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Aoife looked around at the pots hanging on the wall that Maggie kept so shiny. A rolling

pin on the counter was coated with flour and the smell of bread baking in the oven filled the

dimly lit room. In the corner was Maggie’s chair with a basket of women’s stockings waiting to

be darned. Aoife turned her back to the parlor door and everything that happened there,

pretending her visits with Maggie by the fire were no different than a visit with any other village

girl. The sight of Maggie humming as she patched up stockings always made Aoife think of her

younger sister, Tara, lying under her heavy blankets, sewing away at some pattern their mother

had her working on. Aoife felt that Tara and Maggie would have enjoyed chatting over their

sewing, if only Tara were not stuck in bed with a perpetual cough and Maggie the progeny of a


“Aoife. You look quite bright and alive considering the early hour.”

Aoife jumped as Maeve strolled over and pulled a leaf from Aoife’s hair.

“I see you’ve been busy with your studies,” Maeve added.

Aoife touched her hair, searching for more debris. Maeve’s dressing gown exposed her

cleavage and her long, dark curls draped over her bare shoulders without apology. Aoife had

seen her dressed, powdered, and painted since she was a girl, and she admired the way her gaze,

so piercing, seemed to command respect from everyone. But what had captivated Aoife the most

was something more powerful and more impressive than Maeve’s beauty. Although crow’s feet

now punctuated her eyes, and her waistline had thickened, the most powerful men deferred to

her, bowing their heads in her direction when she traveled through the streets.

“I couldn’t resist the path through the woods,” Aoife replied, knowing she could hide

nothing from her.

Maeve stared at her. The affection in her appraisal was always slightly distant, stopping

just short of motherly.

“Seamus is taking care of things,” Maeve said with her usual calm.

Aoife nodded and looked again at the shiny pots, trying to focus on anything but Seamus’

highly embarrassing ritual of waking her father, the fairly infamous Finnegan, from wherever he

had ended his evening and saddling him on his horse. Maggie pulled a loaf of steaming bread

from the oven and set out plates, knives, and a bowl of fresh butter. Each of them took their place

around the table as Maggie generously portioned out the bread. Maeve let her shawl fall over the

back of her chair and straightened up her shoulders, exposing even more of herself. Aoife

flushed and bit quietly into her bread, savoring the flavor and the moment.

There was an honesty and warmth in this kitchen that she never felt in the presence of her

own mother. Conversation and warm bread was what made coming to get her father for all these

years worth the lashings she used to receive from her mother when she returned home.

“I hear that your latest suitor was seen heading out of town yesterday,” Maeve said. “I

gather his hasty departure means that there will be no nuptials?”

Aoife shook her head and cast a quick smile at Maggie.

“I can’t imagine why you didn’t want to marry that one,” Maeve said. “Lots of gold, a

manor house to the east with more land than you and your horse could ever discover, and

handsome, too. What more could a girl want than a man with piles of gold and a good set of


“A man who is blind and deaf and preferably feeble – with deep pockets, of course. Then

I can live my life in peace and never have to worry about his teeth – or mine for that matter.”

Maggie giggled, and Maeve raised an appreciative eyebrow, offering her signature half-

smile, half-smirk. Aoife grinned and took another bite of the steaming bread.

“And what do your parents say?” Maeve asked. Her features had softened, but her

thoughts remained inscrutable. “I can’t imagine they find your refusals as entertaining as we do.”

Aoife fell silent. This was an unexpected detour in the script. They avoided direct

references to Aoife’s family. It made breaking bread between them possible, since the money

Maeve took from Aoife’s father by night was one of the greatest strains on her family’s

resources, reputation, and love. The medicine that Tara often went without after her father’s

reckless trips was reason enough for Aoife to despise Maeve, but she had learned to avoid

dwelling on these realities. She needed Maeve enough to tolerate her father’s indiscretions, since

rescuing him had now become a means of escaping her life. Discussing her family jeopardized


“Well, no, they are not exactly pleased,” Aoife replied, her brashness fading.

Maeve wiped the corner of her mouth and cleared her throat. Something in the air had


“You know, at some point, perhaps sooner than you might expect, they will stop coming.

First, the young ones with stacks of gold and good teeth. They have the most fragile egos and

will seek out friendlier pastures. Then eventually, even the wrinkly ones, with and without gold,

will find calling on you not worth the effort,” Maeve paused. “The tales of your beauty will be

replaced by tales of new faces with more welcoming smiles. The choices left to you will be


The bread balled up in Aoife’s throat. She could have had breakfast in her own home if

she wanted this type of talk. She suddenly felt incensed that Madame Maeve dared to criticize


“My mother mires me in these traps daily,” Aoife dusted the crumbs from her hands.

“She appreciates neither the risk to my reputation I take coming here nor the fact that I am the

one who has run the farm for years now.”

“This is true. Your family would be in the poor house and your sister probably with God

if not for your courage and your brains,” Maeve said. “But I’m not talking about them. I’m

talking about you and your future. You must understand that there are consequences for you,

whether you say yes or no to the suitors who come your way.”

She raised an eyebrow, which seemed loaded with a warning left to Aoife to decipher. It

had a familiar ring to it, like the warnings her mother made so often about the consequences of

Aoife’s trips to Maeve’s house.

“No respectable man will ever want to marry a girl who consorts with vile women, not

when he thinks he can pay a few coins for her instead,” her mother would say.

Her mother lived in such a dream world she did not recognize that Aoife was trying to

protect the family’s reputation and as much of their finances as was possible. Her mother worried

more about Aoife’s reputation than the food on the table and Tara’s medicine. And because of

that, a chasm had grown between them too deep to ever cross.

“My choices are just as narrow as every other girl’s. I know that,” Aoife said standing up

abruptly. Her shawl dropped to the floor, its power to protect her no match for the storm brewing

in the kitchen. “But I’d never compromise myself – or give men control over my body for money

like you do. Of that you can be sure.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that,” Maeve replied, completely unruffled. “But it’s interesting that

you did. And, Aoife, no matter what choice you make – your husband’s house, my house, or the

nunnery – you are exchanging control over your body for money. Of that you can be sure.”

“I have given half my life already to protecting my family. Everyday, whether I’m seeing

that fields are reseeded and sheep are sheared or carting my father home from here, I am picking

up the pieces of my family’s fortune that my father has broken apart,” Aoife said with less

command of her voice than she would have liked. “And now, after I’ve done everything I can to

save this family, they – and you – expect me to sell myself off to the next buyer, supposedly to

protect them? I can’t do it.”

Aoife knew there was no way for a woman to survive in the world without the protection

of a man, yet the security they offered was never guaranteed. Her father’s choices still chipped

away at the pieces of what was once her mother, Bronagh. Still bedecked in the jewels of their

courtship, she found her only solace and comfort in embroidering ornate and regal designs and

patterns by the night fire, awaiting his return from Maeve’s as if her delicate hands could

somehow stitch back together the girl he had unraveled and the lives he had torn apart at the

seams. Bronagh would not even consider selling her tapestries or needlework to help support her

family, for that would have been beneath a woman of her status. Aoife, however, was not built to

sit and sew while their fortune and Tara’s health deteriorated at the hands of her father. She

needed to be on her feet fixing the problem, not decorating the home they were sure to lose if no

one intervened.

Bronagh had traded away her soul for a broken promise of safety and love, and she

expected Aoife to do the same. But now Maeve, too? Her advice was nothing less than a


“For women not made to curtsey obediently through life, there is no easy choice.” A

subtle urgency belied Maeve’s calm. “However, refusing every suitor is not a means of

controlling your life, but rather giving over control to whatever or whomever is left over.”

“So I should marry the next man who comes along or end up in a whore house like you?”

Aoife said, wincing at her angry words.

She was angry that Maeve had taken her mother’s side, but she did not relish wounding

the one person who had always been a source of strength and understanding. Despite her words,

Maeve’s features revealed not even the slightest hint of hurt.

“What I am saying is that you ought to turn away any option which would leave you

without hope of peace and contentment,” Maeve replied. “But do not fool yourself into waiting

for a perfect choice to present itself, because it never will.”

Aoife felt her stomach lurch. She needed to get away from this house, this woman, and

the truth. Turning around, she marched outside where her father was standing. She walked to her

horse and looked to see if he needed assistance. The legacy of too much mead weighed on his

haggard figure as Seamus helped him to his horse.

“I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you this morning, my sweet Aoife,” her father’s

worn voice eschewed sadly.

“I know, father,” she replied. “You’re always sorry.”

He swayed precariously in either direction and then took Aoife’s hand suddenly.

“You’re too good to me, Aoife,” he whispered. “You should be reaching for the–”

“Stars,” she finished. “I know, Father.”

He closed his eyes and pressed her hand between his.

“My hand’s grown since we spent our nights stargazing.”

He nodded and Aoife felt a pang of nostalgia sweep over her. She missed the way he used

to pick her up from her mother’s side by the fire and take her out of doors to look at the moon

and stars. The memory of the polished scent of him from her childhood came back over the

stench of mead that clung to him now. He had been a good father once upon a time. She looked

up, searching for any fragment of the man who tossed her high in the air as a little girl. The

sparkle of a tear danced at the corner of his eye. There he was. She kissed his forehead tenderly

and he sighed with the soft smile reserved only for Aoife. His favorite.



Twisted: The Girl Who Uncovered 
Rumpelstiltskin’s Name
Bonnie M Hennessy
Genre: YA Fantasy
Date of Publication: November 19, 2016
ISBN13: 978-1539753421  
ISBN-10: 1539753425
Number of pages: 306
Word Count: 75,000
Cover Artist: Andreea Vraciu
Book Description: 
An old tale tells the story of how a little man named Rumpelstiltskin spun straw into gold and tricked a desperate girl into trading away her baby. But that’s not exactly how it happened. 
The real story began with a drunken father who kept throwing money away on alcohol and women, while his daughter, Aoife, ran the family farm on her own. When he gambled away everything they owned to the Duke, it was up to her to spin straw into gold to win it all back. 
With her wits and the help of a magical guardian, she outsmarted the Duke and saved the day. 
Well almost…
Her guardian suddenly turned on Aoife and sent her on a quest to find his name, the clues to which were hidden deep in the woods, a moldy dungeon, and a dead woman’s chamber. 
This is not the tale of a damsel in distress, but a tenacious, young woman who solved a mystery so great that not even the enchanted man who spun straw into gold could figure it out. 
Not until Aoife came along.
About the Author:
Bonnie grew up a shy, quiet girl who the teachers always seated next to the noisy boys because they knew she was too afraid to talk to anyone. She always had a lot she wanted to say but was too afraid to share it for fear she might die of embarrassment if people actually noticed her. Somewhere along the line, perhaps after she surprised her eighth grade class by standing up to a teacher who was belittling a fellow student, she realized that she had a voice and she didn’t burst into flames when her classmates stared at her in surprise.
Not long after that, she began spinning tales, some of which got her into trouble with her mom. Whether persuading her father to take her to the candy store as a little girl or convincing her parents to let her move from Los Angeles to Manhattan to pursue a career at eighteen as a ballet dancer with only $200 in her pocket, Bonnie has proven that she knows how to tell a compelling story. 
Now she spends her time reading and making up stories for her two children at night. By day she is an English teacher who never puts the quiet girls next to the noisy boys and works hard to persuade her students that stories, whether they are the ones she teaches in class or the ones she tells to keep them from daydreaming, are better escapes than computers, phones, and social media. 
Twitter: @bonnieMHennessy


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