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Thursday, September 3, 2026

MAIN STREET FRINGE by Matthew Lavoie

MAIN STREET FRINGE

by Matthew Lavoie

August 31 - September 25, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Detective Theo Barnes thinks he has the world figured out, though he knows it's a fixed game. Do your job well. Protect your family. Steer clear of the system.

Until his sting operation brings down a powerful state Senator. Doing the right thing thrusts him over a line that can't be crossed, and the system bites back, hard.

His career… over. Reputation… obliterated. The truth… beyond reach.

Amidst the rubble, a clandestine cabal of conspiracy fanatics hellbent on annihilating the “true power” behind America anoints Barnes as a symbol of their own plight. They think Barnes is one of them, abused by society and martyred by the Deep State.

The FBI is incapable of infiltrating these zealots and they turn to Barnes for help. Desperate for answers and redemption, he reluctantly agrees to go undercover, using the most dangerous identity possible... his own.

As real life and the investigation blur, Barnes’ impossible choices drag his family into the crosshairs. Every move, every word, contains unspeakable danger. As the cabal’s atrocities collide with the conspiracy that destroyed him, he must separate lies from truth, or he won't survive.

His quest for salvation rests on one question. Is there enough of his soul left intact to save not only his family, but the country?

Praise for Main Street Fringe:

"MAIN STREET FRINGE had me in its grip from the opening pages and never let go. A timely take on political culture in this country, Lavoie has used his D.C. background to write a twisty thriller that crackles with authenticity. Don’t miss this stellar debut."
~ Joshua Moehling, USA TODAY bestselling author of AND THERE HE KEPT HER and A LONG TIME GONE

"Embroiled in conspiracy and betrayal, this sharp paced thriller climaxes when brotherhood reaches a bitter and fatal flashpoint and two worlds collide into one. Engrossing and timely."
~ David Swinson, author of The Second Girl

"MAIN STREET FRINGE is a deep and thrilling dive into the dark heart of the current political climate—made all the more terrifying by Matthew Lavoie's experience in Washington. This guy knows what he's talking about, he knows where the bodies are buried... and that makes this a must-read."
~ Rob Hart, USA TODAY bestselling author of The Warehouse and the Assassins Anonymous series

"MAIN STREET FRINGE serves up a sumptuous and scintillating smorgasbord of action and intrigue set against a conspiracy-fueled landscape populated by villains for whom reality is a relative term. Matthew Lavoie has crafted one of those rare thrillers that challenges our sensibilities and makes us think at the same time, shading his tapestry in gray tones in which even the good guys wade in and out of their own moral quagmires. A blistering, bracing bombshell of a tale and major debut in the thriller genre."
~ Jon Land, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

"One man’s patriot is another’s radical, and the line between the two blur in Matthew Lavoie’s crackling debut thriller. MAIN STREET FRINGE is an adrenaline-fueled joyride that won’t let you loose until the gut-check of a conclusion."
~ James L’Etoile, award-winning author of RIVER OF LIES and the Detective Nathan Parker series

Book Details:

Genre: Political Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 1, 2026
Number of Pages: 381
ISBN: 979-8898203351
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Chapter Two

Detective Theo Barnes lit a smoke, a rare allowance to tamp down the adrenaline. His brain buzzed as the nicotine hit all the right spots while watching a squad car containing Andrews drive away. He texted his wife, reminding her today would run long. A few cases ago he’d forgotten and caught hell for missing dinner. Rayna was sexy when she was angry, but it wasn’t worth missing sleep to stay up arguing.

Once he hit the ﬁlter, he’d oversee the bag and tag efforts at the scene and head to the Charlottesville county jail for the interrogation. Raids of Andrews’ home and Senate office were executed simultaneously. The limitations of being in one place at a time drove him nuts. He inherently trusted his team of Virginia State Troopers. Just not as much as himself.

He had always been this way. Those aware of his origins don’t blame him. His unyielding dedication compounded as he aged, particularly in the four years since he’d taken over the Internet Sex Crimes Division. Convictions hang on the smallest detail. Considering how far he’d stuck his neck out, he’d be hip deep in every aspect of the investigation until prison doors slammed shut on Senator Andrews.

“You ever think about the irony of a sex crimes investigator who needs a cigarette after every bust?” said the blonde as she approached. Among many contributions, Shannon Williamson served as Barnes’ lure for the stings.

“Funny. Here I was concerned about Rayna raking me over the coals and you gotta toss in some Freudian shit to boot.” Deﬁantly, Barnes took one last deep drag and ﬂicked the butt into the motel parking lot.

Barnes knew he’d hit the jackpot having her on the squad. A rising star at the FBI out of college, promoted early and often, she’d made it as a proﬁler. Then came her father’s stroke. Her mom passed on when she was in elementary school. With no caregiver, she came home to Charlottesville, signing on with the Troopers once he’d recovered.

“Deep psychological analysis of your soul is why you pay me so large.” She glanced up at him. “No matter how many times we do this, I’m always surprised at how much they cry. Between you and me, it’s my favorite part with these scumbags.”

“He thought you were fourteen and he got me instead. Your pigtails in those pictures sold it. Sorry you’re always the worm on the hook for these, but, well—” He shrugged.

“I’m thirty-ﬁve but look like jailbait. I don’t mind. I like the ﬁeld action. But you’ll need to recruit a new carrot for these sickos. I won’t ﬁt what they’re looking for much longer.”

Her hand rested on her stomach as she exaggerated a baby bump.

“Really? That’s great! You and Rick must be over the moon.”

“It’s a seesaw between thrilled and freaking out. Need you to keep me

level since you’re the parenting expert. I do wonder about the world I’m bringing the kid into.”

“One with another predator off the street. And as far as parenting goes, Rayna does the heavy lifting with the boys. I come off the bench to give her a breather. When are you due?”

“Thanksgiving. You’ve got me six more months, but don’t go giving my job away. I’m coming back.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you anyways. Let’s make sure everything is tight as a drum. I can’t wait to sit across the table from this asshole.”

* * *

Barnes, having shed motel customer garb for a shave, suit, and tie, watched the shackled State Senator Andrews shuffle into interrogation. Of all the post-sting grillings, he can’t recall a suspect this calm. Andrews’ light, self-satisﬁed smile suggested a guy up for a promotion inside The tears he’d shed were a distant memory.

“You’re wasting your time. I’m not talking without my lawyer,” Andrews said.

Barnes reflexively clenched his fist. He paused before plowing ahead with the time-tested approach. “I understand why you’d want your lawyer. This is the worst day of your life. We’ve got you dead to rights. I’ll even allow that you’re sorry. I know you’re scared. We have chat transcripts of your conversations with the girl, the way you groomed her. All of it directly traceable to you.”

Despite his previous statement, Andrews can’t allow the challenge. “Maybe I don’t even need a lawyer. This is a set-up. It’s fake news. Nothing happened. In fact, she’s the one who led me on.”

Barnes shook his head and smiled. This revelation was his favorite part. “Actually, Senator, I was the one leading you on. But we both know you did the grooming.”

The initial review of Andrew’s home and office computers had returned zilch. Andrews couldn’t possibly know this. His slimy bullshit sourced elsewhere.

“I can prove that you thought she was fourteen and intended to have sex with her. When we parade the things you brought to the motel in front of a jury, the sex toys, the lube, and most damning, your secret video camera, they won’t buy your excuses. You know, people like you tend to have a rough go in prison.”

Andrews’ breathing hitched. Some of his cocky attitude faded. His head shook involuntarily. Barnes stood and put a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, you’ll be ok. Can we get him something to drink here?” The guard brought a bottle of water.

Andrews drank and tried breathing deep. Barnes returned to his seat. “There’s no turning back the clock here. But if you help me, you’ll make things easier for yourself when you go before judge and jury. I can be a friend.”

Andrews snorted. “How kind. That was my first thought, this guy is my friend. Trust me, I’ve already got the right friends.”

Maintaining the good cop persona grew increasingly harder. “You’ve got one chance to help yourself and you’re blowing it. Confess, save us the trouble of a trial. How’d you locate those sites and chatrooms? They don’t pop up in a Google search. Come clean. Maybe we can close a loophole. You throw us that info and I’ll see that it earns points with the judge and the

District Attorney.”

“I have something to offer people much higher on the food chain than the local D.A. Prison isn’t in my future.” Andrews leaned back in his chair. “Lawyer, now.”

Now Andrews got the uncompromising Barnes, who’d walked through fire to get here. “Fine, lawyer up, but let me tell you this. There are a few ironclads in this life. Don’t mess with the church’s money, don’t piss off people who handle your food, and don’t ever, and I mean ever, threaten children. Even if you think prison’s not in your future, jail most definitely is.

You’re spending tonight in County’s general population and I swear every last inmate will know why. Sleep tight.”

Barnes trusted Andrews’ the worst visions were his best ally. He’d turned

the doorknob when he heard a sigh of resignation.

“Wait. I might know a few things. Maybe a couple of names. But then I want my lawyer. You swear to keep the animals away?”

“For the next few days,” Barnes pushed a pen and paper across the table.

* * *

Captain Butch Holland, Barnes’ commanding officer, stewed behind the two-way mirror. His bushy mustache resembled a walrus, matching his bulk. His police hat covered up his hair’s disappearing act. Vanity wasn’t quite enough to get him on a treadmill though. As Barnes entered the room, Holland’s face flushed, and he opened at peak volume.

“Happy? I ordered you, very clearly, not to pursue this. But you know better than everyone and look where we are. No confession, half a case, and a big pile of shit.”

Barnes eyed Holland with disdain. “I know better than you. We’ve got him because I do my job. You worry about kissing ass upstairs. I don’t give a shit if it’s a state Senator, an ambassador, or the goddamn President. He’s garbage and he’s going down.”

Holland had tabled his retirement, desperately hanging on to walk with a Major’s pension. He bristled at the accurate insinuation that he played the political game.

“You’ve got the Governor’s office breathing ﬁre and I’m not taking heat for you.”

Sure, Barnes thought. The only thing you take is credit. He’d spent a lifetime internalizing beatings, verbal or otherwise, and spinning them out as motivation. It usually worked, as long as nobody undercut his integrity.

He balled his ﬁst over and over. “You don’t have to take anything. We’re on our way. Sometimes it takes a minute, but they always break in the end.”

“Explain that to Colonel Prescott tomorrow. He’s coming down and bringing the Attorney General. Let’s see how Saint Barnes handles that.”

“Fine, Captain.” Barnes poured tabasco on the big man’s title. “I’ll promise you something. Nobody walks on my watch. See what happens to anyone standing in my way when I’m dragging someone to hell.”

Holland’s mustache twitched with the hint of a smile. “So, you say. Before the day’s out, I want the originals on all your paperwork and a full tick-tock. It’s going straight to the Colonel.”

The Captain’s smirk irritated him but frustration over the request took precedent. “Christ, let me do my job. I’ve got to get out to reinspect the house and office. Bureaucracy doesn’t close cases.”

The Captain pointed a pudgy ﬁnger. “Prescott demanded it. When the head of the State Police barks, you do it before he fucking bites.”

Holland stormed from the room, almost steamrolling Shannon. An agile spin kept her from becoming roadkill. She leaned against a ﬁling cabinet, the only furniture in the spartan room beyond two steel folding chairs.

“Congrats on another successful interaction with the brass. Never thought I’d see a detective with the best closure rate universally hated by the higher ups.”

Barnes seethed. “Fuck him and fuck the rest of them too. I’m not playing their games, I’m doing the job.” He kicked a chair and it slammed into the wall with a satisfying bang.

“Easy, I’m not the enemy. The martyr act won’t get you anywhere. You might consider playing nice.”

Occasionally, Shannon glimpsed behind Barnes’ carefully constructed wall. While he was certain it unnerved her, she still spoke her mind. “Sorry. Someone’s always gunning for me. Being the best doesn’t allow time for anyone else’s agenda. I’m not about to change.”

“Fine,” passing on a losing battle. “What’s our next move? I only heard Holland’s side. You solid on what we did today?”

“Andrews is a pervert. We’ve got enough, but tonight’s a paper night. Prescott’s coming and we make sure it’s watertight.”

Shannon frowned and rubbed her temples. “Holland wants to show everyone he’s got his thumb on us. I don’t care that he takes credit sometimes, but this is taking away from the real work. Damn him.”

A sly smile materialized. “Now who needs to play nice?”

“Shut up. I’m not the one with four reprimands for insubordination. You think Andrews will spill? It’s a long time since you didn’t get the confession right away.”

“It’s not insubordination when I’m right. Andrews dropped a few names, but I think they’re bullshit. He’d stick his hand in a pit of rattlesnakes to draw a get out of jail free card.” He paused. “A night or two in a cell will do it.”

But Barnes didn’t believe that. Three cigarettes and creeping concerns consumed his trip to the Barracks. He couldn’t shake the idea there was something rotten about this case, and not just around the edges. Andrews’ arrogance held court in his mind. What’s up your sleeve, you sick son of a bitch? What do you know about what’s coming my way I don’t?

***

Author Bio:

A policy expert and political operative for some of Washington’s most influential power brokers, Matthew Lavoie has spent his career evaluating the how and why of American political and cultural movements and observing some of the biggest shifts in American and geopolitical history. MAIN STREET FRINGE is his debut novel. He is a member of International Thriller Writers and Mystery Writers of America.

Catch Up With Matthew Lavoie:

MatthewPLavoie.com
Instagram - @matthewlavoie8181
Facebook - @MatthewLavoie8181
YouTube - @MatthewLavoie8181

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You Are Your Own Lost Love

Memoir • Inspirational • Spiritual Growth • Personal Transformation • Mindfulness • Self-Help

Date Published: July 15, 2026

Publisher: MindStir Media

Our journey through life is rarely smooth sailing. We weather tempests of anguish, traverse valleys of despair and fractured hopes, and carry the scars of battles fought both within and without. Trauma becomes an indelible mark etched upon our souls, a testament to survival. Landgrebe, a cancer survivor, shows us that amidst these tempests, and within the quiet recesses of our being, lies a sanctuary, a realm where healing begins and self-love blossoms. It beckons us to shed the veils of doubt, to release the burden of seeking validation, and to speak the truth of our own worthiness. This book is a guide through the labyrinth of self-discovery, healing, and love. It invites you to embark on a transformative quest: to heal the wounds of the past, to nurture the seeds of compassion, and to bloom into a positive force. You will journey through the art of becoming whole again. Through stories, ancient wisdom, and practical practices, YOU Are Your Own Lost Love leads us from the shadows of trauma into the luminous expanse of self-acceptance and peace. Join Landgrebe on this sacred pilgrimage to return to the heart of our existence. Together, you will rediscover the brilliance within and unveil the timeless truth that has been waiting all along: YOU are your own lost love.

About the Author

There comes a moment in every life when the search outward becomes a journey inward.

For more than three decades, Susanne Landgrebe has devoted her life to helping others remember what she believes is the deepest truth of the human experience: we are not broken, and we have never been separate from the love we seek.

A Nurse Practitioner certified in Family Practice, Dermatology, and Integrative Medicine, Certified Yoga Therapist, and Certified Meditation Teacher, Susanne has spent more than twenty-five years blending the wisdom of modern medicine with contemplative practice, mindfulness, and the profound healing that arises through self-compassion, presence, and authentic connection.

Her understanding of healing has been shaped not only by decades of caring for patients, but by walking through her own darkest valleys. As a survivor of Philadelphia chromosome-positive acute lymphoblastic leukemia and multiple life-threatening complications, she discovered that even in the face of profound uncertainty, the human spirit possesses an extraordinary capacity to awaken, love, and begin again.

A lifelong meditator, retreat leader, writer, mother, grandmother, and mountain climber, Susanne finds her greatest teachers in both silence and nature. Whether sitting in meditation on the Iowa prairie, leading others in retreat, or standing atop a fourteen-thousand-foot peak in the Rocky Mountains, she is continually reminded that the outer journey mirrors the inner one: every ascent begins with a single courageous step, and every summit reveals an even wider horizon.

Her writing weaves together science, spirituality, psychology, and lived experience with warmth, honesty, and hope. She invites readers to move beyond fear, perfectionism, and the endless search for fulfillment outside themselves, returning instead to the quiet wisdom and love that have always lived within.

YOU Are Your Own Lost Love is the first of what she hopes will be many books exploring healing, awakening, resilience, and the extraordinary beauty of being fully alive. Her greatest wish is that every reader closes her books feeling a little lighter, a little freer, and more deeply at home within themselves.

Because the greatest journey we will ever take is not toward becoming someone new, it is toward remembering who we have been all along.

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Uprising

Uprising
J.E. Rizzo
(Fitzjohn Duology, #1)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Historical

England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster, Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Something shifts, like summer’s green leaves transforming to autumnal gold. Speaking with Geoff about my marriage hurts like I’d never expected, a deep ache. The moon thrums, and an owl, perched in a nearby tree, shifts as she searches for prey. My temples throb.

“It seemed…” he begins again. “It seemed he didn’t want to marry you, after you…” I glare and cross my arms before lifting my face. He continues: “I thought perhaps you could get out of it because…”

“Because of what?”

“Because, ye’re…”

“What, Geoff, what am I?”

His mouth opens like a fish above water, and he doesn’t bother to shut it. In the tree, the owl flaps her wings and leaps into the air.

“Ye’re…” The tips of Geoff’s fingers flutter. “Well, I don’t know what you are, Dandy. Ye’re just…yerself. And I thought—”

“You thought he wouldn’t want me?”

His face falls. “He’s not like you, Dandy. That’s all. He’s not a good man. I heard him talking, when it was just the men…”

He drops his eyes and his cheekbones redden.

Neither of us seems to know what to say next. After a full minute of silence, he lurches forward and grasps my shoulders, crushing me to his chest. “Blanche, just consider.”

I gasp and have to steady myself. But within seconds, tears come to my eyes, along with a calming release of tension. I grip his forearms, inhale his familiar scent. He’s always smelled of horses, with a hint of bread dough and sugar from the manor kitchens he’s constantly raiding. There’s something different tonight. I sniff. It’s crisp, yet soft. Evergreens in winter, covered with fresh snow.

He buries his nose in my hair. “You could refuse,” he says, voice a gentle rumble against my face, “and stay with yer mother. She’d be angry, yes, but she wouldn’t throw you out. They can’t drag you to the church. For a marriage to be real, you must consent.”

Consent. The word ripples through me. It makes me see that I want more, from Maman, from my father, but most of all from Geoff. I need something I can’t identify, something I can’t express.

“If I marry Thomas…” My muffled voice breaks. “It will make the duke happy. He’ll…” I tense, regretting my words.

“He’ll what?”

I can’t answer, can’t tell him that by marrying Sir Thomas, I hope to earn my father’s love. To replace…something.

The moon moves behind a cloud and the trees shift, branches releasing a shower of rain. Geoff drops one hand to the small of my back and lifts the other to my cheek. His palms are warm, and I slide my own to clench his upper arms. When my fingertips brush hardened muscles, I almost snatch my hands back. Before tonight, I still thought of Geoff as a child, the lanky villein who could ride any horse, no matter how fierce. Now…my mouth goes dry, but I can’t resist running my hands up the length of his arms, letting them rest on his shoulders. The skin beneath his tunic is damp with sweat.

Corded muscles tense and stretch beneath my fingers, sending little jolts through me. He stoops, chin brushing my temple.

I touch the notch of his throat with my fingertips. He freezes. Tiny curls of dark hair peek above his collar, tickling my fingers. He lets his face linger on mine, and I feel him inhale.

A pleasant warmth spreads through my belly, then down. Something’s happening, something I don’t understand. I should run, should leave. But I don’t. Another breeze drifts through the tree branches, and he pulls me closer, pressing me to him.

I feel him, all of him, from feet to chin, in a way I never have. A tingling, heavy warmth settles on me, and I feel Geoff’s own need pressing against my belly.

It should make me uncomfortable, but I find myself pressing back, wanting more. Wanting it all.

I’m not well-versed in what happens between a woman and a man—that’s one area of my education Maman neglected—but I’m not completely ignorant. I know Geoff and I stand on a cliff, gazing into a deep ravine. One more step, and we’ll both be lost.

I’m still touching his throat, suspended in our odd dance beneath the shuddering tree branches, when he bends further. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation of his stubbly chin against my face. He exhales, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Dandy…” he murmurs.

The owl swoops to snatch a mouse from the forest floor in sharp talons. Her screech is like a battle horn, ricocheting with painful deliberation in my skull, joined by the mouse’s squeal. My eyelids snap open and I step out of his embrace.

Author Bio:

J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction whose work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine. Additionally, her article, Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to Overturn Roe v. Wade, won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing Challenge. Rizzo’s debut novel, Uprising, Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology, is forthcoming from Literary Wanderlust, and tells the story of Blanche Fitzjohn, a fourteenth century neurodivergent woman whose perceived disabilities become superpowers during England’s peasant uprising of 1381.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing, baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies. She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants, making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

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Wednesday, September 2, 2026

Heir of the Wizard

Young Adult Fantasy Adventure

Date Published: July 9, 2026

Publisher: MindStir Media

A Wholesome Middle-Grade and Young Adult Fantasy Adventure by N.J. McConnell

In the magical world of Selah, humans, dwarves, caruans, and other remarkable peoples have lived together in peace for generations. But beyond the safety of their kingdoms, an ancient evil has awakened—one determined to divide the nations and conquer the world.

To prepare his people for the coming darkness, El Selah sends his spirits into the world, blessing chosen individuals with extraordinary magical gifts.

Runric has spent his childhood living a quiet, isolated life in the forest. Now coming of age, he leaves everything familiar behind and journeys with his loyal caruan friend, Falid, to compete in a worldwide magic contest. Blessed with six different forms of magic, Runric quickly attracts attention in the neighboring kingdom of Palanda—along with a level of fame he never wanted.

As the competition draws him into a dazzling world of princesses, kings, mysterious creatures, and rival magic wielders, Runric begins to uncover secrets about his own family. The ancient enemy threatening Selah may be connected to a danger first discovered by his father—and by the mother Runric has long believed was lost.

Torn between the simplicity of his forest home and the responsibility that comes with his remarkable abilities, Runric must decide whether he is ready to embrace his destiny. His greatest challenge will not simply be learning how to control his magic, but developing the faith, wisdom, mercy, and discernment needed to use it well.

Heartwell: Heir of the Wizard is a captivating middle-grade and young adult fantasy adventure filled with imaginative world-building, memorable friendships, wholesome humor, magical contests, family mysteries, and an unforgettable battle between good and evil.

Perfect for readers in fifth grade and above—and for families who enjoy clean fantasy fiction—this coming-of-age adventure explores:

● Faith, courage, and personal responsibility

● Friendship across cultures and kingdoms

● The importance of wisdom and discernment

● Family, identity, and belonging

● Using one’s gifts for a greater purpose

● Choosing what is right when darkness begins to rise

Enter the world of Heartwell and discover a family-friendly fantasy story where magic reflects character, unlikely heroes find their courage, and one young man’s gifts may hold the key to saving all of Selah.

About the Author

N.J. McConnell is a Texas-based author of wholesome middle-grade and young adult fantasy. A software engineer with degrees in computer science, he brings the logic of a programmer and the imagination of a lifelong fantasy reader to his richly developed stories.

Inspired by reading J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit as a child, McConnell began writing the kind of relatable, family-friendly fantasy adventures he wished he had encountered more often growing up. For more than a decade, he has developed the magical world of Heartwell—a place filled with memorable characters, imaginative kingdoms, exciting quests, and meaningful lessons about faith, wisdom, mercy, courage, and discernment.

McConnell is the author of Heartwell: Heir of the Wizard, a coming-of-age fantasy adventure for readers in fifth grade and above. Through compelling characters, wholesome humor, magical contests, and timeless conflicts between good and evil, he hopes to create stories that entertain the entire family while encouraging readers to use their unique gifts with integrity and purpose.

Born and raised in Texas, N.J. McConnell lives in San Antonio with his wife and two children. When he is not writing, reading fantasy, or developing software, he enjoys coaching youth basketball and teaching Bible classes. Seeing his children experience the world and characters he spent years creating has made his journey as an author especially meaningful.

Learn more about N.J. McConnell and the Heartwell fantasy series at heartwellstories.com.

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Sunshine Boy

LGBTQ Rockstar Romance

Date Published: September 4, 2026

What if they’re not just friends? It could be murder!

After Julian’s sister sets him up with a charming Frenchman, Rahul thinks he may be getting over Julian, especially since Julian is back with his ex, Michael. Their band is finally taking off and the future seems bright. Then Julian hints he may return Rahul’s feelings. But what might happen if they become more than friends?

WARNING: Violence, Drinking/Substance use, Mentions of murder, Trauma/PTSD.

EXCERPT

Julian’s flat was a disaster, but Mel couldn’t be sure if it was on account of Julian tearing the place apart in a fit of pique or if it was always like this. Based on what his room had been like when she and her big brother had lived at home, she didn’t really doubt this was just the way he lived.

Mel hadn’t been here since the day Julian had moved in three years ago. She saw enough of her brother at the place where they worked, the place where they drank, and the place where they performed. She hardly needed to come round his place to get even more time with the manic muppet.

Julian even did devastation manic. He was pacing around the living room, pulling at his hair, talking a mile a minute. Mel could hardly keep up with what he was saying, if he was saying anything at all and not just babbling incoherently.

“… just a jazzy giraffe freak clomping around my life with his big stupid hooves and not even looking for oncoming traffic or anything… wouldn’t even slow down at a zebra crossing, even if there was kids in it, or like countryside sheep or whatever… just plow right through ‘em -- WHAM -- ‘sorry, missus, was this your daughter sheep? Too bad, I’m after Julian, can’t slow down or I’ll lose him!’ Honestly, it’s like he isn’t…”

Mel grabbed a handful of Julian’s fake leather jacket as he came past and yanked him down onto the sofa beside her. He looked startled and disorientated, like a somnambulist being unceremoniously awoken. He blinked at Mel as though only just now noticing her.

“You’ll give yourself an aneurysm going on like that,” Mel said coolly, lighting up a cigarette.

Her words were the scissors that cut the strings of Julian’s loosely gathered sanity. He crumpled in on himself, burying his face in his hands. For one horrified moment, Mel thought he might be crying. But he just groaned, a long pitiful noise like that of a wounded animal.

“It’s all gone tits up, hasn’t it?” he mumbled into his palms.

It had in fact, in Mel’s opinion, gone tits up. Julian’s best friend, Rahul -- the “jazzy giraffe freak” -- had told Julian’s creepy blond boyfriend, Michael, that Rahul and Julian had slept together. Michael had ended things with Julian. Julian had clobbered Rahul (a very un-Julian-like thing to do). Rahul then confessed his undying love for Julian and Julian had… run off. Cowardly little prick.

Rahul wasn’t just Julian’s best friend, he was also the most musically talented member of their band -- a band Mel played bass in, mind. Without him, the band would dissolve into nothing and Julian would be left rudderless. He lived for their shite band. Hell, he lived for Rahul. The two of them needed each other like foxes needed bins. This melodramatic love-triangle nonsense was going to make all of their lives positively implode. Well, maybe not Mel’s life. She owned a record shop and she’d be fine. And maybe not Kwambe’s life either. He was too cool to be affected by anything. But definitely Julian and Rahul’s lives, and Mel had sworn, years ago when her and Julian’s mum had started drinking, that she would look out for her empty-headed brother and keep him safe. She’d been fixing his life ever since. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to fix it this time.

“It ain’t so bad,” Mel told Julian. She nudged him until he peeked out between the fingers he held over his eyes. She extended a cigarette to him. He took it and let her light it for him. It was the most affectionate gesture she’d offered him in quite some time. “One of you could be dead. That’d really be something to cry about.”

He threw her a withering glare with his red-rimmed eyes.

“So, you shagging that Michael bloke, then?”

Julian choked slightly on the smoke in his throat. He’d never told her, in so many words, that he was dating Michael. Michael had just shown up one day, hanging around Julian, while Julian stared at him with the eyes of a boy looking at a bloody Christmas tree. Julian had also never told her he was a bit bent either, but Mel had worked that out on her own, too.

Julian fidgeted with the cigarette butt in his fingers. It was odd to see him… if not embarrassed, then apprehensive. He usually did things like he couldn’t give a shit what others thought, though Mel knew that was a load of horse shite. He acted like he didn’t care, but no one cared more what other people thought than Julian Collier. He’d been caring since they were kids, only he’d gotten better at pretending. The thing is, when you want people to think you’re really cool, you have to get them to think you don’t care what they think. Julian was also obsessed with people thinking he was a little daft. That much was lucky, because, as far as Mel was concerned, he was a little daft.

He nervously pushed his fringe off his forehead only for it to flop back down at an uneven angle. “Yeah. Or, well, I was.”

“He chucked you ‘cause you and Rahul shagged?”

“That sounds like we did it yesterday,” Julian whinged. “It was ages and ages ago. Back at uni. And we were both drunk as you like. It didn’t even count, if you ask me.” Despite himself, he was going quite red around the ears and getting splotchy red patches high on his cheeks. “I’d forgotten all about it. I can’t even believe Rahul remembered. And that he told Michael. Imagine that!”

It was all coming together now. She remembered the trip Julian had taken up North to visit Rahul, only to come back one day early, all jumpy and not wanting to talk about it. Afterward, he’d not seen Rahul for years. Then, when Rahul came back, they were all distant and weird around each other. They’d had a drunken fumble together, of course. For one of them it was just an awkward night that had compromised a friendship. For the other…

“He also told you that he loves you,” Mel reminded him around her cigarette butt.

Julian folded his arms and hunched his shoulders in that way he did when he was stopping himself from covering his ears like he would’ve as a little kid. “Whatever. He’s confused. I dunno. He can’t love me. That’s just mental. He’s my best mate -- he was my best mate. He just thinks he’s in love with me ‘cause he loves me, you know, like friends or whatever. And anyway, that’s the other reason Michael dumped me, you know? He could see Rahul’s all obsessed with me and he didn’t want to get himself in the middle of whatever it is we’ve got going on. He didn’t want to end up like Aisling did. Having rows all the time ‘cause Rahul’s put himself between us.”

Hearing the name of Julian’s ex-girlfriend gave Mel pause. “Were you shagging him when you were still with Aisling?”

Julian dropped his cigarette. He retrieved it before it could burn a hole in the carpet next to the constellation of cigarette burns already there. “No. ‘Course not,” he said defensively in the way he did when he was lying. “I’d never cheat on her, would I?”

“I don’t know,” Mel said. “Would you?”

“I mean -- all right, so I’d started seeing him a bit when we were still together,” Julian immediately capitulated. Mel beamed. So she could still wheedle the truth out of her brother after all. “But we didn’t sleep together or anything. It wasn’t cheating. Not really.” He was imploring as if Mel were the barrister presiding over his case. She was only a curious third party with no stake in the game. So she merely shrugged.

He ran an unhappy hand through his hair, which by now was standing up at all sorts of odd angles. “What am I gonna do?”

“What you’ve gotta do is get your shit together. Both of you. I got a business to run, you know? What am I supposed to do? Sack one of you and hire somebody neither of you ballbags have fucked? And we got a band, or have you forgotten that as well?”

“I thought you hated the band.”

“I do, but I’ve started counting on that extra gig dosh.” It felt good to pay for her grass with money that didn’t come directly from her dead nan’s business. “And you love the damned thing. Are you gonna find yourself a replacement keyboardist slash guitarist who shares your same crazy vision of a dystopian soundscape? Think it’s easy to find one of them? You gonna put an ad out in The Sun?”

“Why don’t you ask Rahul?” Julian cried. “He’s the one who’s gone and cocked everything up! It’s his fault for having feelings -- or thinking he’s got feelings. If he weren’t obsessed with me, he’d have never sabotaged my relationship. If he were following somebody else around like a bleeding puppy, then maybe me and Michael would still be together.”

“That’s it,” Mel said, snapping her fingers in the air.

“What is?” Julian asked dubiously.

“We need to set Rahul up with somebody. Get him to fall in love with somebody else. That way Michael won’t have anything to worry about and the two of you can make up. Then you and Rahul can get back to being mates, and Bob’s your uncle -- everything back to normal.”

Julian’s dubiosity had not dissipated. “You reckon? I dunno.” He made a face somewhere between a sneer and a wince that made it look like he was about to sneeze. “He’s been building his feelings up for me for years, said so himself. I don’t think we can come in with some, erm…”

“Bloke. He is gay, you know.”

“Right -- some bloke -- and think he’ll be all gone on him in two shakes and forget all about me. He thinks he loves me, you know? That’s massive, that is. When someone’s got gangrene, you don’t come in with a plaster and think that’s gonna make it all better.”

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. You leave it all up to me. I’ll sort it. I always do.” And even though she was wearing her best smug expression, he still had the gall to look less than convinced.

About the Author

As a queer, nonbinary, person of color, Nicky Silber has made it their mission to bring diversity into all of their creative outlets. Born in New York, raised in Mexico, they studied fine art in San Francisco and have worked in the video game industry since 2012. They currently live in the wilds of North Carolina with their young son and too many pets. Their only two goals in life are to continue to tell queer love stories and, to a lesser extent, finally knit their own sweater.

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Silver Bells, Single Bed

Silver Bells, Single Bed
Paula Dombrowiak
(Hollow Reign, #2)
Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

My bandmate’s little sister is off-limits.

Then a Christmas blizzard traps us together in Chicago with only one bed.

After months on tour, all I want is to get home for Christmas. Instead, a winter storm strands me in Chicago with Harper Beaumont, a rising ballet star with everything on the line, including the lead role in her company’s production of The Nutcracker.

With both our flights canceled and Harper watching her dream disappear, I do the one thing I absolutely shouldn’t do—convince her to experience the Christmas magic of Chicago.

Somewhere between sparkling lights, one forbidden kiss, and a snow-covered city, Harper stops being my bandmate’s little sister…

and becomes the woman I can’t stop wanting.

When the only hotel room left has one bed, resisting her becomes impossible, sspecially when she asks me to be her first.

One night with Harper is hot enough to melt the Christmas snow but when morning comes and my bandmate finds out I crossed the line with his sister…

I have to decide if I’m brave enough to risk everything for the woman I was never supposed to have.

Silver Bells, Single Bed is Book 2 in the Hollow Reign Christmas Novellas—a series of interconnected, steamy holiday romances that can be read in any order.

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—

EXCERPT:

“So,” she says. “Small problem.”

I cannot fathom any problem bigger than the one that’s currently happening in my pants at the sight of her.

“I don’t have anything to sleep in.” She wiggles the bag helplessly. “I didn’t exactly pack for two overnights. Everything in here is dance clothes. I can sleep in this, I guess.” She shakes her head and sets the bag down on the chair.

Jesus fuck, the universe is loving me today.

“You can’t sleep in your clothes.”

“Well, I think sleeping naked is out of the question,” she says, and I swear she’s not as innocent as she seems.

I clear my throat. “That’s not…” I dig through my duffel bag until I find a Hollow Reign concert t-shirt and hold it out to her. “Here. You can sleep in this.”

She hesitates a beat.

“It’s clean, I promise.”

Her fingers brush mine, small and soft as she takes it and brings it up to her nose. “Smells like you,” she smiles and then disappears back into the bathroom.

Fuck, get yourself together, Rhodes.

What would Casey do if he knew I was in a hotel room with his little sister right now, and that she was wearing my t-shirt? I press my forehead against the cold glass window and try to think about anything—my drum kit, my mom’s tamales, the tempo count on the new single, anything that isn’t Harper Beaumont pulling her sweater off on the other side of that door.

And I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as she walks out of the bathroom wearing my shirt. Every coherent thought in my brain evaporates.

The neckline slips off one shoulder, and the hem hits the tops of her thighs, revealing soft, smooth legs. She pads over to her bag and stuffs her clothes inside.

“It’s a little big,” she says, pulling on the hem.

I swallow hard.

“Jesus, Harper,” I say, my voice rough. “Are you not wearing a bra?”

She looks down at herself, genuinely confused, then back up at me. “Of course not.” She shakes her head like that’s the stupidest question in the world. “It’s not comfortable to sleep in. Get over it.”

Get over it?

She says it the way another girl would say pass the salt. Like she has no idea what she’s doing to me. Like she hasn’t just rearranged the entire chemistry of the room by walking out of a bathroom in my shirt, her nipples visible through the material.

I scrub a hand down my face.

I grab a pillow off the bed and carry it to the armchair by the window. “I’ll take the chair. You take the bed.”

“Liam, that chair isn’t big enough for you to sleep in.”

“I’ll manage.”

She crosses to the bed and lies down on her side, propped up on one elbow, watching me with an expression I can’t read. The t-shirt rides up her thigh, and I swear to God I catch the edge of lace and the curve of her hip underneath before I have to physically drag my eyes off her.

I rearrange the pillow, trying to smash it into submission.

“Liam,” she says, getting my attention. She’s resting her cheek on her hand. Her hair is spilling across the white pillow, and she looks like a fucking wet dream. “Do you not feel safe in the bed with me?”

Author Bio:

Paula Dombrowiak grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois but currently lives in Arizona. She is the author of Blood and Bone, her first adult romance novel which combines her love of music and imperfect relationships. Paula is a lifelong music junkie, whose wardrobe consists of band T-shirts and leggings which are perpetually covered in pet hair. She is a sucker for a redeemable villain, bad boys, and the tragically flawed. Music inspires her storytelling.

For more ways to learn about Paula and her books, check out her website: @www.pauladombrowiak.com

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Reign of Silver & Stardust

Reign of Silver & Stardust
Diana A. Hicks
(Stardust Trilogy, #1)
Publication date: August 27th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Romance

My twin sister was murdered. To find her killer, I had to die.

CATALINA
I was never supposed to exist.
As the mortal spare to an immortal sister, I lived in the shadows
until Ry was murdered by a weapon that shouldn’t exist.
Now, justice is all I want.
To find her killer, I must take her place in the Queen’s Elite Cadre
and become the very monster everyone fears.
But becoming a weapon means losing my humanity…
and losing the one man I can’t resist.

VALOREK
The immortals bleed my world dry while my sister rots from the inside out.
I swore to burn their reign to the ground,
until I met her.
Sterling is the enemy,
a silver-blooded soldier of the regime that destroyed my family.
But the electricity between us is undeniable.
We are on opposite sides of a brewing war,
and falling for the enemy is a dangerous mistake
neither of us can afford.

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—

EXCERPT:

The simulation brings me back with a jolt. I land on the floor on all fours, choking on the saltwater burning my throat. Like before, once my brain catches up with reality, all the pain goes away. I hang my head and breathe easy.

If that isn’t a miserable attempt, I don’t know what is. Ry passed this level on her first try. This military stuff came naturally to her. When we were kids, the placement test put Ry and me in the Military Sector, but I never belonged or excelled the way she did.

The sleek white walls shine bright around me. Seconds later, Captain Weston’s boots come into view. When I glance up, he cocks an eyebrow at me with both hands braced on his hips. He blows out a breath, and I swear a tinge of pity flashes across his face.

“I didn’t pass your test.” I sit back on my ankles, shaking uncontrollably.

“Everyone dies in the simulation. You did better than I expected.” He scratches the stubble on his chiseled jaw. “But I do have my work cut out for me.”

“Am I in?” I meet his gaze.

“Have you talked to anyone since the accident?”

The accident? My jaw clenches.

“No.” I assume he means cadets from my unit. To Captain Weston, Valorek and his friends didn’t count.

“Good.” He clears his throat. “Because I have a proposal for you.”

When I open my mouth to speak, he brings his index finger to his lips and shakes his head once. Of course, he doesn’t want to hear about how Ry’s death wasn’t an accident. We have been doing the same song and dance for weeks. This time, I do as he asks and keep quiet, but only because it looks like I am about to get what I want—an opportunity to join the Queen’s immortal army, where I’ll have the ability to look into Ry’s murderer myself.

“You need something from me.” I meet his gaze.

“We need you to take your sister’s place as a lieutenant in the Queen’s army. You still need a lot of training before you can join Ry’s unit, but we have a bit of time.”

“Wait. What?” I gape at him as my heart thrashes in my ears. “That is not what I wanted at all.”

“I gave it some thought.” He swallows. “It’s all I can offer. It’s the only solution, really.”

“Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?” I scoff. “Ry told me everything about the QEC simulator seven years ago. This was the easy part and I still died. How am I supposed to be her when I know nothing about her world? She had her own life outside of me.”

“That’s why I’m here. I’ll be your guide.” His eyes soften.

“So what, Captain Weston? Do I now get to call you Cap or Eli?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” He offers a crooked, sexy smile. “In fact, I think that if you call me Eli in private, the transition will be easier for you.”

“Eli?” I meant to be sarcastic, but he is completely serious with his answer.

Author Bio:

Diana Hicks writes dark, emotional romance where obsession runs deep, secrets cut sharp, and love always comes at a price.

Her books blend steamy billionaire drama with forbidden marriages, high-stakes betrayal, and antiheroes who will burn the world to protect what’s theirs. Best known for The Empire Trilogy, Diana’s stories deliver heart-pounding romance with morally gray men, strong heroines, and just enough heat to leave you breathless.

When she’s not writing about power and passion colliding, she’s probably sipping coffee like it's a love language, sweating off a plot twist at yoga, or posting angsty book teasers on TikTok.

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Tuesday, September 1, 2026

A Simple Regret by Lacey Black

Title: A Simple Regret

Series: Cooper Town Boys #4

Author: Lacey Black

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Tropes: Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town Romance

Release Date: September 1, 2026

BLURB

Camden

The day she left town was the day I changed. Maren Holm walked away without so much as a glance back, taking my heart with her. Everything we had talked about, planned for, the life I thought we both wanted together, just vanished, leaving me alone and miserable. That’s when old Camden was replaced with the fun-loving, carefree guy I am today.

Then, out of the blue, she returned.

My new next-door neighbor and I have a past, and it’s one I don’t want to dredge up. The problem is she has a son. The cutest three-year-old boy, who pulls at the strings of my damaged heart and refuses to let go. Together, they make me want…more.

But I just don’t know if I’m capable of giving her my heart a second time.

Maren

Returning to Cooper Town was exactly what I needed. I wanted my son, Theo, to experience all the perks of small-town living. With the help of my dad, I found the perfect location to start over. Except, my new neighbor and I have a history. A very painful one, and even though I knew I’d likely run into him again, I never expected it to be in my own driveway.

Suddenly, my past is standing directly in front of me again.

He’s still angry, not that I blame him. I walked away from him, from the life we both wanted. It wasn’t easy or right, but I had my reasons. Now, being around him is stirring up old feelings, especially when I see him with my son. Their bond is instant, and before I know it, I’m being drawn right back in to the Camden I used to know and love.

Only this time, it’s not just my heart I’m risking, but Theo’s too.

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AUTHOR BIO

USA Today Bestselling Author Lacey Black is a Midwestern girl with a passion for reading, writing, and shopping. She carries her e-reader with her everywhere she goes so she never misses an opportunity to read a few pages. Always looking for a happily ever after, Lacey is passionate about contemporary romance novels and enjoys it further when you mix in a little suspense. She resides in a small town in Illinois with her husband, two children, and three rowdy chickens.

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NEWSLETTER

Uprising

Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology

Historical Fiction with Speculative and Romantic Elements

Date Published: 09-01-2026

Publisher: Literary Wanderlust

England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster, Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.

About the Author

J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction, and her work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine. Rizzo won Manuscript Academy’s Agent Choice Award in 2024, and her article Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to Overturn Roe v. Wade won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing Challenge.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing, baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies. She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants, making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

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