Touch Her And Die by Laura Hunsaker

 I was talking to my friend the other day, and we were talking about Alphaholes. I don't know how many of you were around for this, but in the mid-2000s the favorite type of hero was the Alphahole. He was an asshole, but he was an Alpha Male. While that term has been completely changed since then, what it meant was that he was a strong leader, who was maybe a bit bossy, didn't always explain, and sometimes he was an asshole, but he was always someone who took care of those under his protection. 

After that hero had his time, we saw so many more cinnamon roll heroes, and golden retriever heroes. But as the trends move quickly, sometimes they cycle. We saw the rises of the anti-hero, the morally gray hero, the touch her and die hero...

I think it's the same but with a new name.

I love a good morally gray anti-hero.

I realize that that's kind of an oxymoron, but I hope you all know what I mean. I'll use superheroes for my analogy lol

I think heroes like Superman, who are good, but also do things for the greater good, are the kind who would sacrifice for the world, for the greater good. Even if that meant sacrificing his love. He may never love again, but he knows he did the right thing. Heroes like Batman are married to their vengeance. But heroes like Iron Man who play by their own rules and have the power to make their own rules,  would maybe be more fitting. He would save his woman at the risk of his own self, as would all of the superheroes. They are always willing to put themselves on the line, but where he differs, is that he would burn the world down to save his love. 

That's what some of us want. Not in real life, because really, how many of these tropes/trends/heroes just wouldn't be something we'd want in real life. But knowing someone loves you so much he would let the world burn for you, is a heady feeling. My next hero is going to be one of those darker morally gray heroes and I'm so excited to write him. Especially since I'm writing a Golden Retriever hero at the moment for Echoes of the Past.

So now I turn it over to you. What type of trope or hero do you prefer? Do you love the Touch Her And Die trope? Do you prefer a cinnamon roll hero? Tell me in the comments!

And if you want the happily ever after to never end, check out my short story set in the Fatal Instincts world, Dreams of the Future. It's a wedding bonus story for Kate and Kyle from Dark Past.

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Kobo  |  Google Play  |  D2D  |  Goodreads

Kate Landry is soon to be Kate Donovan, if only the groom would show up…


Maid of honor Cara Nguyen wants everything to go smoothly for her best friend's wedding, yet almost immediately, the wedding turns into a fiasco. Kate and Kyle deserve to have the wedding of their dreams, and Cara wants to make it happen. How can she pull off the wedding of their dreams when the flowers are delivered to the wrong location, the groom is missing, and the lovely sunny day has become a sweltering hot mess? There’s a lot to do, and so little time to do it. She definitely doesn’t have time to get distracted by a sexy groomsman in a kilt.

Kyle Donovan is ready to marry the love of his life, but first he has to get back to the church…

Dash Helms is in the small town of Chester, California for his friend Kyle’s wedding. This should be a happy event, yet It seems everything is going haywire. A caravan of wedding guests breaks down on their way to the venue, one of the groomsmen misses his flight, and the wedding has to be moved inside. Yet the beautiful maid of honor is the only thing he can concentrate on. When Dash is asked to step in at the last minute as a replacement groomsman, of course he says yes. While the striking brunette walking down the aisle ahead of him wants nothing to do with him, even she can’t deny the sparks that fly between them.

With everything seeming to go wrong, what can go right?

In this wedding short story written for Kate and Kyle from Dark Past, the cast of the Fatal Instincts series comes together to celebrate their friends. With everyone in the same place at once, and romance in the air, can this small town handle them?

MARCH COMES MARCHING IN

                                    by Judy Ann Davis

Okay, I admit it, I’m not a fan of February. Every year, I wish it would fly by and push us into March. After the holidays, February brings holiday bills to pay, freezing temperatures in the northern regions, hibernation tendencies, snow, lack of light, more snow, colds, flu and then…more non-melting, dirty snow with ice. It’s a bleak, long, tedious month, despite the fewest number of days. But to February's credit, it ushers in March.

March in Pennsylvania is cheered on by the arrival of spring in the Northern Hemisphere, featuring rising temperatures, longer days, and vibrant, but unpredictable weather. It’s Women’s History Month, Ides of March, Johnny Appleseed Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Equinox, and a full lunar blood moon that looks red on March 3^rd.

For me, it’s a joyful time. Rains will come, but they will leave.

I search my flower beds for new shoots and check the lilac buds to see if I’ll have blooms in April. Daffodils, crocus, snowdrops, tulips, and forsythia burst forth to color the dreary landscape. In the words of Bishop Reginald Heber: “Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.”

Rabbits scurry over the yard looking for tasty new shoots. The neighborhood possum checks out the fallen sunflower seeds below the bird feeder. Canada geese flying overhead sing their tunes of spring. Their sounds remind me to check my many birdhouses which may need paint or repairs before they can be hung outside.

March is the time to make time and do the things we love after a cold winter. You might find me scrutinizing the colorful seed packets on display at a local store—or staring into space and making a mental list of vegetables and herbs to plant in our bucket garden in May. Or maybe I’ll just stare at the blue sky and watch the clouds sail by in a brisk spring wind.

  

It’s March. It’s spring. Fresh breeze and warm sun. The best time for new beginnings is now.

                              NEW RELEASE - Finding Love in Pine Valley  

 

 

FINDING LOVE IN PINE VALLEY  

 

New Release:  

eBook/Digital - Now Only $2.99

Print - 6.99

Welcome, Sprinter, The Confused Season

It it Spring? It was 75° F. yesterday afternoon. Or is it Winter—it's 40° F. with a fierce north wind this morning.

My roses, azaleas, and plumbago are definitely confused. If they talked amongst themselves, they'd probably be saying, "My flowers are freezing their buns off." 

Spring? Winter? Welcome to Sprinter. Yes, here in Texas, we have 2 seasons colliding. 

In the morning, it's Winter, and after noon, it's spring, thus, Sprinter, the Confused Season. 

I'm supposed to be writing on the new book, but I've been engrossed in helping Darling Hubby design the workshop/art studio he wants to build as an addition to our garage.

Since I'm not an architectural drafter or a graphic artist, it's taken me a while to get the plans drawn up. That's my part of the project. Today we send off the plans and application to our HOA for approval.

Now, I can get back to the romantic comedy I'm writing. I should finalize the cover this week. That's taken some thought. While I was thinking about that, I did create a new cover for April Fool Bride. That's live now, and that book is on sale. I hope you'll take a look at it and tell me what you think about the new cover.

Reviews from B&N

Even though it's not sold on B&N' now because it's in Kindle Unlimited, here are a couple of reviews from readers there.

“I read a lot of books, but I only write a review on the ones I love. I thoroughly enjoyed April Fool Bride. 5 Stars!!” —Reader Review

 “The best thing about a Joan Reeves romance is that the characters come alive, making you feel what they feel.” —Nook Review

Oh, I also put up A+ Content on the Amazon book page for April Fool Bride, and I'd love to know what you think of it.

ENJOY SPRINTER

Now, I'm goint to bundle up, brave the pseudo winter weather, and go outside to work on the new "bulb" bed I'm installing on the west side of the yard next to the fence. 

I'm thinning the overcrowded purple iris bed to populate the new bulb bed. I'll probably bookend the new bed with red amaryllis, but I haven't decided yet what to plant as the background. Any suggestions?

Love to read? Subscribe to Joan's free newsletter, I LOVE READING, and receive exclusive content and news about book bargains and new releases. SIGN UP TODAY.

 

Patriotism at Home: How Americans Showed Love for Country During WWII ~ Sherri Easley

I have been retired from my corporate job for an entire 6 weeks now and finally got to my writing. Being neurodivergent, I struggle with staying on task for anything and don’t have enough space to list all of my unfinished projects, including sewing, DIY repairs, gardening, and writing. I have–no kidding- four different novels across three genres, started, and several more with draft outlines.

My current work is YA- Kathryn, and it will be book one of a 4 or 5 book series about young women during WWII who overcame the obstacles to become one of the female WASP pilots who trained in Sweetwater, Texas.

When we think of World War II, we often picture soldiers overseas. But patriotism during WWII wasn’t only fought on battlefields; it could be found at dinner tables, in backyards, in factories, and even on women’s lips.

Here are a few powerful (and surprisingly romantic) ways Americans showed their devotion at home.

Red Lipstick: Morale as a Weapon

During WWII, red lipstick became an act of patriotism.

Cosmetics were one of the few consumer goods not heavily rationed. The government understood morale mattered. Leaders encouraged women to maintain a polished, confident appearance, not out of vanity, but as psychological resilience.

• Shades like “Victory Red” became popular.
• Elizabeth Arden created a special red to match women’s military uniforms.
• Even as fabric, sugar, and gasoline were rationed, lipstick symbolized strength, optimism, and normalcy.

Adolf Hitler reportedly despised red lipstick, which only made American women wear it more proudly. It became a small but visible defiance.

In a time of fear and uncertainty, red lips said: We are still here. We are still strong.

Victory Gardens: Feeding the Nation

With commercial crops diverted to feed troops, Americans were urged to grow their own food. By 1943, Nearly 20 million Victory Gardens were planted. They produced about 40% of the nation’s vegetables.

Backyards, schoolyards, and vacant city lots transformed into rows of tomatoes and bean trellises. Gardening wasn’t just practical; it reduced pressure on the supply chain and reinforced a collective mindset: everyone contributes.

It was patriotism you could harvest.

Rationing and Resourcefulness

Americans lived under strict rationing:

• Sugar, coffee, meat, butter
• Gasoline and tires
• Silk and nylon (diverted for parachutes)

Families used ration books and saved bacon grease for munitions production. Women painted lines up the backs of their legs when stockings became unavailable. Clothing was mended, repurposed, and handed down.

Weddings were smaller. Celebrations were simpler. Sacrifice became a shared language of loyalty.

Women in the Workforce

With millions of men overseas, women stepped into industrial roles in unprecedented numbers.

• Over 6 million women entered the workforce during the war.
• “Rosie the Riveter” became an icon of capability and determination.
• Women worked in shipyards, aircraft plants, and munitions factories.

Patriotism wasn’t passive; it wore coveralls (oversized zoot suits in Kathryn’s case) and wielded rivet guns.

Letters and Bonds

Civilians supported troops by:

• Writing millions of letters
• Purchasing war bonds to finance military efforts
• Taking part in scrap metal drives

War bond campaigns alone raised billions of dollars to fund operations. Even children collected rubber and aluminum. No one was too small to serve.

Why This Matters for Romance Writers

WWII patriotism wasn’t abstract. It lived in:

• Lipstick carefully applied before a factory shift
• A fiancé planting tomatoes alone
• A letter folded and unfolded until the ink faded
• A wedding postponed “until he comes home”

It was devotion, not only to country but also to each other.

And perhaps that’s why WWII romance still resonates. Love endured in a time when sacrifice was ordinary and courage was daily.

Here is a passage from the first chapter of Kathryn: Avenger Girls.

Being a bit of a tomboy myself, I relate to her a little too much.

***********

Lips all around her moved in slow motion, every smile painted in shades of Victory Red: bright, certain, impossibly composed. Sentences blurred into words, and words dissolved into a steady drone pressing against Kathryn Thomas’s ears until it was no longer conversation at all.

Just noise.

A humming, relentless sound, like bees swarming inside a hive.

The women laughed easily, their red mouths unwavering, as though patriotism and courage could be applied each morning along with powder and pin curls- a small, careful defense against ration books and headlines no one wanted to read too closely.

Kathryn slid her thumb over her bare bottom lip, the skin dry from rubbing it. The absence felt suddenly noticeable, like arriving unprepared for something everyone else understood.

She glanced once again at the clock on the mantel. The hands hadn’t moved. Of course, they hadn’t. Time didn’t pass in rooms like this. It only stretched, then stalled, before it trapped you.

She exhaled through her nose and lowered her gaze to her lap. She was still pinching a loose button between her fingers. It was the only thing keeping her from bolting out the front door. She held a threaded needle alongside the button like props, as proof she belonged here.

But she didn’t.

She’d been pretending to sew for nearly two hours. The thread still hadn’t found its way through the cloth. Not once.

Even though her hands were still, her mind was wandering. She could see the sunshine outside the window across the room, and from the way the limbs swayed on the redbud tree, a breeze must be blowing. Just thinking about feeling the warm sunshine on her face made her palms itch to be holding the handlebars of her motorcycle.

Every few seconds she bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to sting, to bring herself back into the room with the button pinched between her fingers.

Eyes randomly flicked toward her, then away again, quick, and curious glances that felt like fingers tugging at her sleeves.

All around her, women leaned in, shoulders touching, with voices bright and easy. They stitched and chatted in effortless rhythm, laughter spilling like warm tea. Gossip stitched itself into the air as neatly as their thread: who was expecting, who was leaving, who had a boy overseas, who had a husband who drank too much and still expected dinner on the table.

They were her mother’s friends. Most likely she recruited them from the hair salon over town gossip or while trading coupons from their ration books.

Kathryn recognized a few by name heard over family dinner, but mostly they were strangers.

Still, they sweetly smiled and nodded to Kathryn as if she were simply another carefully curated artifact in her mother’s perfect world. Just another proper young lady who would eventually learn to smile and sip and nod at the right moments.

Kathryn had never felt the absence of not having any female friends. She had engines and repair manuals and quiet corners of her own. That had always been enough, at least in her mind. But. her mother treated it like a defect. Kathryn’s lack of female companionship was a flaw in the perfect design that needed to be corrected.

Hence, the weekly sewing social.

And now, here she was with the stiff chairs, the heavy perfume, the bright red mouths and the monotonous chatter, being held in place by one very small button.

Quiet misery stitched neatly into place, one endless minute at a time.