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WILDE'S END The Wilde Men #1 Saxon James Release Date: September 25, 2025 GOODREADS
Cover Design: Story Styling Cover Designs
Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: Liam F.

Genre: M/M Bi Awakening Romance Standalone
Tropes: Enemies to lovers, small town, city boy x wild man, grumpy x snarky, hate f*cking
Microtropes: I had no where else to go, scars reveal, bearded Cinderella moment, get out of my town

Hudson
Give me the smallest reason to make a bad decision, and I’ll jump in with both feet. Case in point: thinking that drunkenly buying an abandoned town with my brothers is a good idea.
As builders, we plan to renovate and flip the town, maybe turn it into something worth seeing, but the longer we’re here, the more things feel … off.
It’s not until a bearded mountain man breaks into my room in the middle of the night and threatens for us to get out of his town that I realize Wilde’s End isn’t as abandoned as we were told.
But there’s nothing waiting for me in the life I left behind, and in making his demands, Wilde has accidentally tapped into my competitive side.
Terrible decisions? Me?
Wilde can bring it on.


Wilde
I escaped to Wilde’s End twenty years ago, and since then I’ve dedicated my life to the town and the people who live there. Because if I focus on others, I don't have the time or energy to face everything I’ve been running from.
The Bellamy brothers coming to town is like three horsemen of the goddamn apocalypse. They leave destruction in their wake, and when the eldest, Hudson, ignores my very kind request to leave, it’s time to take things into my own hands. Protecting this town is all I know how to do.
But I’ve never faced someone like Hudson.
His stubbornness matches mine, and his attitude has an irritating way of worming under my skin. The more I push him, the harder he pushes back, until we’re locked in a game neither of us will walk away from.
With his smart mouth, bullheaded recklessness and those damn eyelashes I’m starting to question whether I can win this one.
But if I lose, this town isn’t the only thing on the line.

I’m not a bad guy. I’m not even a mean one. But when it comes to this town, I’ll do anything I need to in order to keep it safe. For me and for all the people who have landed here. Wilde’s End is a safe haven from the harsh realities of the outside world, and that will never change for as long as I have the power to protect it.
It’s the same man sleeping in the downstairs bedroom as last time—Hudson, according to his ID—and I creep closer, curious if he’s still as attractive as I remember or if I’ve built him up in my head. Unfortunately, even watching him from a distance all week isn’t enough to prepare me for seeing him again.
He’s unnaturally fucking hot.
I hate him for it.
Thankfully, it won’t be a problem for much longer.
On a night out, he’s exactly the type of man I’d pick out of a crowd. Here, in my town, he’s exactly the type of man I never want to see again.
So I cross to the bedroom window and shove it open so hard the glass shudders in the frame.
The man’s jolt upright takes a few seconds too long to be useful under attack. He grunts, then mumbles something unintelligible as he sets an unsteady hand to his forehead. At first, I worry he’s going to roll right over and fall back asleep, but slowly, his eyes blink open. Once. Twice.
Then they drift to me.
He watches me for one sleepy moment before he jumps so hard his back hits the wall. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Wilde,” I forcefully admit, folding my arms across my chest to stop the way my hands keep folding into fists.
Hudson’s jaw is working madly like he’s trying to choose how to respond, and his gaze keeps darting to the door. The last thing I want is to have to deal with all three of them when I can have him pass on my message, so I get my warning in before he can call for help.
“Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want you gone.”
His fists curl into the bedding as the shock melts away and a panicked sort of anger takes over. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
“Keep your voice down,” I force out through my teeth.
He chokes on his response. “You’re not going to break in here and tell me what to do.”
“I can and I am.”
“Fuck you.”
“I said to keep your damn voice down.”
“Make me.”
“It would be too fucking easy.” The way he’s bringing my blood to boiling has me desperate for a fight. He’s supposed to be scared. Supposed to cower and promise to leave.
I underestimated him.
Hudson meets my eyes. “My brothers will get here before you have a chance to lay a hand on me.”
A bitter smile tries and fails to cross my face. “I have no interest in touching you. I’m here to talk.”
“Talk?” The way he spits the word makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. “You broke into my house to talk?”
“Yes.”
“Get out.” He isn’t bothering to keep quiet, and it’s rattling me.
“I told you to shut up.”
“And I told you to fuck off.”
I move closer to his mattress, standing at full height, and look down at him. He’s coiled for a fight and watching me like a caged animal. “Don’t test me,” I warn.
The blond man snorts, the wariness slipping from his face as a spark of defiance takes over. “You broke in here. You don’t get to make the calls.”
This conversation proves, yet again, why I hate people. All he had to do was keep his mouth closed and let me talk so I could be on my way, and instead, he threw self-preservation out the window. I could kill him out here, and no one would ever know.
He’s lucky that while I might be many things, I’m not a murderer.
But I am low on patience.
I cross to his bed in two strides, crouch down, then grab hold of his calf. The inflatable mattress makes it too easy to haul him close enough for me to get in his face.
“I’m only going to say this once,” I warn. “Get your people, and get out of my fucking town.”
Instead of looking intimidated, he leans closer. “Or what?”
“You don’t want the answer to that question.” Just thinking of Lynx has tension tugging at my muscles.
“I’m a pretty curious guy, actually.”
“There are people out here …” My grip on him tightens. “That you don’t want to test.”
His gaze, silvery in the darkness, moves from one of my eyes to the next. “You’re lying. This town is abandoned.”
“Then what the hell am I doing here?”

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Saxon James
Website | Newsletter | Facebook | FB Reader Group | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok

Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.

While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.

Member of SCBWI.


 

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Himbo Hitman
Saxon James
Goodreads
Amazon
Release Date: May 29, 2025

Cover Design: Story Styling Cover Designs
Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography
Model: Griffin W.

Genre: M/M Bi Awakening Romance Standalone
Trope: Idiots to lovers, forced proximity, oblivious MC, assassin X target, horoscopes-obsessed bodyguard, love-at-first-shot, low angst

What do you do when you’re a hitman … who’s terrible at his job?

At first, I thought it would be an easy payday. A few pew pews for bad people, a couple of suitcases of cash for me. People have done worse for an honest living. Probably.

The problem is that after a couple jobs, I’ve never actually managed to unalive someone, and not for lack of trying. Apparently, a basic requirement of a hitman is being a good shot.

Despite my constant duck-ups–that my boss knows nothing about–I’m given another name, and I very nearly follow through. Only after obliterating this guy’s ear, and his fervent pleading to spare him, I’ve sent him into hiding and collected the cash anyway.

But wanted people are hard to hide, and bad guys don’t like paying big money for loose ends.
Now that Van Gogh has shown his face again—sans ear—I’ve scammed my way into his security team, which is sort of ideal since I’m now highly wanted as well.

Unfortunately, we have some “trust issues” to “work through” from our meet-shoot, and with the gorgeous bastard’s brother missing, he refuses to lay low until they’re reunited.

I’m not sold on the plan honestly, but this guy has me questioning my sexuality along with my career path, and I’m at the point where I’m determined to see a job through to the end.

Or die trying.

But hey, at least then I’d finally deliver a body.




I bet if contract killers had a union, there’s no way I’d be let loose already. Good for me, though, I guess. Arlie said I’m a good shot, she’s given me a laundry list of tips that I’ve remembered at least three of, and tucked into the back of my jeans, under my fake leather jacket--I really, really need to do something nice for Elle after all these supplies--is a ghost gun similar to Arlie’s.
No fingerprints, no serial numbers, no worries.
I pull out my bright pink flip phone, whack it twice with the heel of my palm to get the display to work, and check the time. I’m lurking in the shadows outside of this nightclub and I won’t be able to hang around too much longer before I’m spotted.
With any luck, this won’t take more than one bullet, considering how impressed Arlie was by my aim. The first few shots went fucking haywire, but once I got used to the weight and the movement, there wasn’t a single thing I couldn’t hit.
I’m killer with a pew pew.
There’s just one problem though.
The last two jobs I went on, I ended up with cold feet. Worse, even. Frozen feet. I’d lifted the gun, looked my mark in the eyes, and all the fear and panic that flashed through them hit me right in the chest like they’d fired their own weapon.
I couldn’t do it.
So with an apology and a pinky swear, I sent them both into hiding.
It felt like a win win win. They get to live, I get paid, and Luther trusts I’m a capable hitman and gives me more jobs.
Unfortunately, there are only so many times I can get away with that, and tonight I’ve made myself the promise that I’ll do it. I’ll fire my gun for the first time. And I’ll kill a guy.
I’ll kill St. Clare.
He owns a hot shot nightclub—the same nightclub I’m watching—in downtown Seattle and lucky for me, he’s just recently had a feature written up on him so I know exactly who I’m after. Conventionally good looking with that blond hair, smoldering eyes combo, and then add to that he’s probably rolling in money. It’s ninety-nine percent likely that he trades drugs and kicks puppies and cheats on his wife.
And yes, my statistics come from mafia movies, but the whole art imitating life must have started somewhere, and I swear when I tilt my head just right, the photos of him have red eyes. Which means he’s evil. I don’t make the rules, but if he’s evil and I kill him, I’m arguably a hero.
Now that would have to make Margot proud of me.
And if I can’t kill him, then I’m out. No more wasting my time or dishing out pinky swears. I’ll be paid for the first two jobs any day now, and then I’ll be paid a lot for this one, and that should be enough to get me by for a bit. No one can maintain a hit a night average anyway, and having three hundred and sixty-five deaths on my conscience wasn’t one of my resolutions this year.
Though neither was being poor as fuck, so here we are.
The back gate into Saint Clare’s courtyard suddenly opens and I jolt to life. I’d been expecting to wait out here for hours, but when St. Clare himself steps out into the street and closes the gate behind himself, I straighten.
This is too easy. There’s no fucking way I’m just being handed my mark.
I know I’m not going to get a better chance than this, but I don’t reach for my gun, because, as weird as it sounds, I almost feel like I’m looking at a celebrity. Not, like, the famous kind. But the kind where you see them on TV or social media enough and then you see them in real life and it takes you a second to adjust. Plus, he’s taller than I thought he’d be. Maybe my height and I don’t know why that catches my interest, but it does.
He walks off, and it suddenly occurs to me that memorizing details is pointless when those details won’t exist soon enough. The bastard doesn’t turn around, just heads for the road, and as much as I want to get it over with, I can’t shoot the guy in the back. There has to be some kind of code about that, right?
Backstabbing totally fine.
Back banging is a no no.
Ah, unless we’re talking sex. Then the rules are completely different.



Saxon James
Website | Newsletter | Facebook | FB Reader Group | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok

Saxon James unapologetically writes happy endings for LGBT+ characters.

While not writing, SM is a readaholic and Netflix addict who regularly lives on a sustainable diet of chocolate and coffee.

Member of SCBWI.

 

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 The Charmer
The Vers Podcast Series -  - Book Four
 Riley Hart
Release Date: September 6, 2023
Goodreads
Amazon Universal

Cover Design: Cate Ashwood Designs
Photo: Rafa Catala
Model: Jorge Del Rio Romero

Genre: MM Romance Standalone
Tropes: Opposites attract, frenemies to cuddle buddies to lovers, size difference, no-strings-attached cuddling, found family, body positive MC

If you listen to The Vers, a queer podcast I host with my three best friends, you know me as The Charmer. I’m always happy, flirting, and trying to win everyone over. I think most people would be surprised to learn I have a lot more going on beneath the surface.

But ever since all my friends have fallen in love, it’s getting more difficult not to feel left out…

Cue my fascination with Spencer, my neighbor who hates me. There’s something addicting about getting under his skin, and I blame the combination of my confusing emotions and too many drinks for spilling my guts to him about all my insecurities…and about how much I love cuddling.

Turns out, Spencer doesn’t hate me, and my word vomit is the catalyst that makes us decide to be cuddle buddies. When I need affection, I go to him, and he just…holds me. Along the way we become friends, and when I fall for him, it’s surprising that he feels the same. Spencer’s easy to talk to, fun to be around, and did I mention he’s hot? I love how confident he is in his full figure, and there’s nothing like being in his beefy arms.

Spencer has me wanting more for the first time in my life, and he’s determined to help with my disordered eating, but if I want a healthy future with him, I need to work toward being healthy for myself too.

The Charmer is an opposites-attract romance with a body-positive MC and a cuddle fiend learning to love himself.

The Charmer deals with disordered eating, low self-esteem, and negative talk about weight. While the story is uplifting and none of these are heavy-handed, please see content warning for a full list.


When his phone made a familiar noise, I cocked a playful brow at him. “One of your boyfriend prospects?” I asked, though it was clearly a hookup app.

“Maybe…or maybe someone who just wants to have sex with me.” He chuckled, then grabbed his phone. “Hmm. Nice hole.”

It was my turn to laugh. “You gonna go?” There was no reason why he shouldn’t. I would understand if he wanted to go get laid.

“Nah, I’m good here. Unless you’re trying to get rid of me.”

I should be. I would think I’d want to, but I didn’t. “Nope.” My food was gone now, and Corbin had eaten about three-quarters of his. After we tossed the trash and leftovers in the bag, I leaned back and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Have you considered trying other options than hookup apps if you’re really looking for a boyfriend?”

“Lots of people find partners there. Don’t knock it.”

“I’m not. It’s actually where I met DJ, my ex.”

“Interesting… Well, good to know. I actually signed up for a dating app too. I have a few messages.”

“Let’s check them out.”

Corbin took his shoes off and pulled his legs up, sitting cross-legged on my couch. “Okay…first, we have Johnson.”

“Pass,” I replied automatically.

“Why?”

“That’s not his real name. He’s talking about his dick.”

“Okay, Judgy McJudgerson. How do you know? I’m gonna click his message.” A second later he said, “Oh, dick pic. You were right.”

He went through a few names, telling me about the men or what they’d messaged. We laughed and joked and put some in a maybe category and some straight up no.

I couldn’t pretend I didn’t notice Corbin getting closer and closer to me. I had no doubt that if he just wanted to fuck me, he’d have no qualms about spitting it out. He was honest about shit like that, but I thought maybe the cuddle stuff was different for him. Last night went well, and he joked around and called me CB, but I had a feeling he wanted it today and didn’t know how to ask.

“Come here,” I told him, surprising myself. But what was the point in continuing to feel that way when it was obvious Corbin regularly made me act in ways I couldn’t explain?

“Actually, I think I need a shower.”

“Why? I don’t give a shit about that. Hell, I’ll probably like it.”

When I held my arm out, putting it on the back of the couch, Corbin tucked himself right in. I lowered my hand to his shoulder, then his arm, massaging it and holding him close. He put a leg over one of mine, burrowed in deeper, to my chest, keeping his phone in his hand.

“Who’s the next guy?” I asked. Because what Corbin and I were doing wasn’t about being boyfriends or even having sex. It was about…companionship, about this man who was known as The Charmer, who could get anyone to fall in love with him and had a great group of friends, yet I thought he felt very alone. He needed someone outside The Vers guys, someone who just wanted to be his friend and who didn’t expect anything else from him. Who enjoyed his company not because he was sexy and charming, but because he was him.

“Hmm. This one doesn’t sound too bad. His name is Christopher. He’s thirty-five. He works in tech and loves the gym and working on his body.”

Well, I wasn’t sure that was the healthiest thing for Corbin, but for now I kept it to myself.

“He says he’s done the hookup thing all his life, never had a real relationship, and now he’s feeling like he’s missing out, so basically he’s me.”

“You should message him,” I said seriously.

“Maybe I will,” Corbin replied, but then closed the app. “I’m tired.”

He turned toward me, wrapping his arm around me, face in my neck, breathing me in.

My dick was definitely getting a little excited as blood began rushing toward my groin. “Do you want to stay?” I mean, we were cuddle buddies and all. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe I’d even thought that.

“If you insist,” he replied with a chuckle.

“I need to take a shower.”

“Me too. I’ll go home and take one and come back?”

“Perfect.”

This was…so fucking weird. What the hell were we doing?

Still, we got up, gathered the dinner trash, and threw it all away. I told Corbin I’d leave the door unlocked, and he headed next door to his apartment. The first thing I did in the shower was jerk off, hoping that would keep me from getting hard the second he was in my bed again.

I washed up, then tugged on a pair of boxer briefs, just as I heard the door open and him say, “You ready, CB?”

“Yep.” I made my way back into the living room. Corbin had on shorts and a tee, his hair wet like mine. He locked the door, and I turned off the lights, like we were a fucking couple or something. When we got to my room, he stripped down to his underwear while I did my best not to stare.

His body was so different from mine—hard where I was soft, six-pack abs while mine were beneath some pudge. His hip bones poked out a bit too much for my comfort, though.

“I brought my charger.” Corbin plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand on the side of the bed where he would sleep. Each of us set our alarms, I hit the lights, and we climbed into bed together.

“I like the smell of your soap.” He nuzzled his face into my armpit, which was really fucking hot. If it were about sex, I’d expect him to stick his tongue out and lick it. “And I like the way you feel…soft and warm. Comfortable.”

“I like the way you feel too,” I admitted. What was the point in lying?

“Cuddle buddies are the best.”

I chuckled. “Shut up and go to bed, Corbin. We have to get up early for work.”

“Yes, CB,” he replied playfully, threw his leg over my body, and did just as I said.


The Vers Podcast series
The Loner
The Vers Podcast Series - book 1 Amazon
Kim's 4 star review


The Romantic
The Vers Podcast Series - book 2
Buy Amazon or KU
Kim's 4.5 star review

 The Realist
The Vers Podcast Series - Book Three
Buy Amazon
Kim's 4.5 star review

Riley Hart
Website | Facebook |  Facebook Reader Group | Twitter | News | TikTok | Pinterest

Riley Hart’s love of all things romance shines brightly in everything she writes. Her primary focus is Male/Male romance but under various pen names, her prose has touched practically every part of the spectrum of love and relationships. The common theme that ties them all together is stories told from the heart.

A hopeless romantic herself, Riley is a lover of character-driven plots, many with flawed and relatable characters. She strives to create stories that readers can not only fall in love with, but also see themselves in. Real characters and real love blended together equal the ultimate Riley Hart experience.

When Riley isn’t creating her next story, you can find her reading, traveling, or dreaming about reading or traveling, and spending time with her two perfectly snarky kids, and one swoon-inducing husband.

Riley Hart is represented by Jane Dystel at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret Literary Management. She’s a 2019 Lambda Literary Award Finalist for Of Sunlight and Stardust.

One of Five eARC's for The Charmer

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The Dandelion Diary
A Maysen Jar Series and 1001 Dark Nights novella
Devney Perry
Amazon | Amazon Worldwide: | Amazon Paperback
Add  to Goodreads
Release Date July 11, 2023

From Wall Street Journal bestselling author Devney Perry comes a new story in her Maysen Jar series…


Dear Diary,

My dad needs a girlfriend, and I’ve already picked her out.

Miss Adler would be perfect for him, right? She’s super pretty. She has the best smile and she gives the best hugs. And she’s, like, the most amazing teacher in the world.

Dad is my hero, but I can tell he’s lonely. He tries to hide it from me, but sometimes at night, when he thinks I’m asleep, I’ll sneak downstairs and find him sitting on the couch, staring at nothing. He’s never had a girlfriend, not since the divorce. Mom messed him up. She’s good at that.

He’s smart and funny, but he doesn’t laugh enough. I’ve seen other moms at school check him out so I guess he’s handsome. (Eww.) And he makes up the best nicknames. He calls me Dandelion. I bet he’d give Miss Adler an awesome nickname too.

They're perfect for each other. I just know it. Now I only have to show them I’m right.

Wish me luck.

Katy

**Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

This is an adorable novella about a little girl who just wants her Dad to be happy. So she thinks the way to make that happen is to put him in direct contact with her favorite teacher. Katy is a precocious and smart girl with a plan. 

Jeff and Della are attracted to each other from the first meeting. And it does not wane after the second or third. But neither have been lucky in love or dating. They are both lonely and a bit awkward.  And there is that whole pesky "don't date parents of your students" rule. 

But Jeff is handsome, loving, and has a dry sense of humor. And she can tell he is an excellent dad. And Della is caring, sweet, quirky, and totally adores his kid. Their chemistry is natural and hard to resist. 

Why does something wrong feel so right?

This is a sweet addition to The Maysen Jar series but can be read as a stand-alone. It was fun to be back in this world and this novella just made me smile. 
When I heard the Maysen Jar was getting a new addition in the form of a 1001 Dark Nights novella I was excited!

Jeff is a divorcee who’s entire focus is on making sure his daughter is happy, cared for, and loved. His daughter has always been a good student, and he is navigating the pitfalls of parenting as she reaches middle school and all the social drama that comes with that.

Della Adler loves teaching, and students like Katy make dealing with the less glamor parts of school worth it.

Even though this was a novella, I loved the way the interactions between the characters built. They had immediate chemistry and though they were both interested, Della’s role as Katy’s teacher meant she wasn’t allowed to have a relationship with Jeff. So even though they both felt it, they knew the timing wasn’t right.

This was a quick, sweet read - I loved the story so much I wished it was a full novel with a few pieces fleshed out further. I loved Katy’s dedication to making sure her dad was happy. She was a bright spot in their interactions and made the early part of their relationship all the sweeter with her meddling.

Keep reading for a look inside The Dandelion Diary

Jeff stopped just beyond the patio, turning to face me.
I stopped too, standing just within arm’s reach.
He reached up, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m stalling.”
“You’re stalling.”
“You gotta tell me what you want. It’s your job. It’s your life. You want to wait until summer, then I’ll walk you to your car right now.”
I inched closer. More of that bravery bubbled to the surface. Was this a stupid idea? Yep. So why couldn’t I leave? “What if I don’t want to go to my car?”
A growl came from his chest as he dragged a hand over his jaw. “You’re sure?”
“Is Katy asleep?”
He nodded once. “Out like a light.”
“Then I want you to kiss me.” 
The words were barely out of my mouth before his lips crushed mine, his strong arms sweeping me off my feet as he hauled me into his chest.
Yes. Whatever doubts I had vanished. I melted against him, sinking into the feel of those lips against mine. Never in my life had I been this bold. Never in my life had I told a man to kiss me.
Worth it. So fucking worth it.
His tongue swept against the seam of my lips, demanding entry. A mewl escaped my throat as he slid inside. Then he plundered, fluttering and tangling and swirling his tongue with mine until I was breathless.
This man could kiss. Thank the stars in the sky, he could kiss. 
He nipped at the corner of my mouth, then sucked my bottom lip between his teeth. He slanted over me, delving deeper, leaving no corner of my mouth untouched.
My entire body went up in flames, my pulse thudding in time with the aching throb in my core. When he broke us apart, my lips were swollen. He latched on to my neck, sucking and kissing as he left a trail down the column of my throat.
“More.” I fisted the material of his shirt, holding him to me.
“Fuck, Della.” His voice held an edge of restraint, like he was trying to press the brakes. He pulled back, setting me on my feet. His eyes searched mine and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Then he shifted, taking a step away.
No. “Don’t,” I panted.
Maybe it was the years of rejection from Luka. Maybe it was this all-consuming need for Jeff’s touch, his skin against mine. If I had to beg, I’d beg. Tonight, I wanted to be craved. Worshiped. And if that kiss was any indication, together, we could be dynamite.
“Della—”
“Please don’t pull away from me.” There was a vulnerability in my voice that surprised even me.
Jeff’s eyes softened. “I don’t want to, beautiful. But if I don’t put this space between us, I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you go.”
The air rushed from my lungs. He wants me. Deep down, I knew he wanted me. That kiss was a kiss from a man who wanted a woman. But to hear the need in his voice, well…it meant I didn’t care about the rules. Not tonight.
I’d risk it all, just once.
“You said I had to tell you what I want,” I said. “And that’s you. Kiss me again. Take me inside to your bedroom. Or if all you want to do is sit at the table and play cribbage with me, I’ll take whatever I can get. We don’t even know each other but the idea of me leaving right now…” I shook my head. “I don’t want to leave.”


Devney Perry
Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Newsletter | Bookbub | Pinterest

Devney is the USA Today bestselling author of the Jamison Valley series. She lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories. Devney loves hearing from readers! Connect with her on social media. 

For More Information about 1001 Dark Nights, visit:

Website | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok

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The books reviewed on this blog are purchased with our own money, won in a giveaway, or have been provided by an author, publisher, publicist/tour company, Netgalley, or Edelweiss. If we've received the book from any of the above promotional companies they come free of charge in exchange for our honest review. This, however, does not affect our opinions of the books or the content of our reviews.

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