UPDATE: The winner is…Beverly Blank!
Hi, there! Brenda Margriet here, waving hello from British Columbia, Canada.
On April 13, I released my fourteenth contemporary romance. It’s taken me ten years to get here, but since I thought I might never finish one book I am pretty proud of this accomplishment.
My new release is Strictly by the Book and it is the fourth in my Silverberry Seduction Seasoned Romance Series. The series features a rather unusual book club…one where the members go rock climbing, take mixology classes, learn how to ride motorcycles, and do other non-bookish activities! Every story can be read as a standalone, though all the club members make appearances in each. The main characters’ ages range from 35 to 55, and all the stories are steamy slow burns.
Secrets Under the Covers, Book One, is always free, and you can get it from your favourite retailer here https://books2read.com/SecretsUndertheCovers.
Two long-time friends…one impulsive seduction…zero percent chance their lives will ever be the same again.
As a special gift to readers of Delilah’s blog, I will be giving away an e-copy of Book Two, Loving Between the Lines (small reverse age gap, older single mom, hockey player turned coach). If you aren’t our random winner, you can find it here https://books2read.com/LovingBetweentheLines/
A one-night stand neither will forget.
She wanted a final fling before choosing science to make her a single mom. He needed an escape from the regret grinding him into dust. Her baby isn’t his…but maybe family is more than DNA.
- I have been reading romance since I was a teenager, when my elderly next-door neighbour gave me a box of his recently deceased wife’s Harlequins. While I also enjoy almost every other genre (I draw the line at horror), I prefer to read books that guarantee a cheerfully satisfying ending, and my favourites have a strong romantic subplot.
- I met my husband at work in 1987. He was a cameraperson and I was a copywriter at the local radio and television station. We were still working together when we married in 1991…and when we both retired from the same radio and television station in January 2020.
- I am a gramma three times over! Being Nanna Brenda is so much fun. But it makes me wonder…I always thought my own grandparents were so old…and I don’t feel old at all. I still feel sexy and attractive and enjoy writing heroines who are similar in age and attitude. Maybe 55 is the new 35!
- Later this month my husband and I will be fulfilling a bucket list dream. We’ll be pulling our holiday trailer from British Columbia to Nova Scotia, returning home via a few of the northern United States. We’ve set aside six weeks and have already realized that’s not enough time!
- I love to hear how people met. No fictional meet-cute can rival some of the real stories I’ve heard. I am also fascinated by couples who aren’t the Hollywood version of lovable and yet are absolutely besotted with each other. I want everyone to have a happy-ever-after!
- I write stories that are rooted in reality. My characters are struggling with many of the same issues and challenges facing my friends and family. But I guarantee you, each one ends with a declaration of true love that will bring tears to your eyes. I so enjoy writing scenes where the characters finally break down and admit they are a better person for letting love into their hearts.
Remember, you can win an e-copy of Loving Between the Lines just by commenting below. Here’s a sneak peek at the first chapter…
Benjamin Whitestone stepped into the concourse of the arena, closing the door to the Canyon Cats team offices behind him, and leaned against the red-painted brick wall. Pressing his fingertips into the rough surface, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
When Peterson Brewster had summoned him to his office that morning, he hadn’t been able to suppress the guilty feeling he’d done something wrong. He’d only been head coach of the Canyon Cats for two weeks, and logic dictated he had no reason to worry—yet—that his performance had been judged subpar already.
Logic never stopped him from worrying before, and it hadn’t then, either.
Turned out Brewster had just wanted to welcome him formally to the organization. He’d met the very involved owner during the hiring process but he’d been out of town since Benjamin’s return to Prince George. Now the meeting was over he could concentrate on his next challenge—his first official practice. Training camp had just ended and the roster set. The hardest work was about to begin.
Taking one last deep breath, he pushed off the wall and strode toward the stairs leading down to ice level. As he reached the door to the arena administration offices, it swung open. He dodged to avoid being struck by the heavy metal panel and a woman with her arms full of child stumbled into him.
“Careful now.” He gripped her shoulders to steady her. Two black bags draped off her shoulders and the sharp corner of one thudded against his thigh as she spun around.
“Sorry.” She shifted the baby to her other hip and gave Benjamin a quick, harried glance before focusing once more on the squirming, squawking child. He’d had little exposure to children, but given the length of the legs kicking at her thighs and the arms flailing about her head, this was no newborn. Other than that, he had no clue. “I didn’t meant to open the door so suddenly. I hope I didn’t hit you.”
That voice. Husky and low, it evoked a sudden memory of subdued lighting, sultry jazz, and smoky whiskey.
His fingers tightened on her shoulders, the bones rounded and firm under his palms. “Lynn?”
Her chin lifted and their eyes met. For a moment her expression remained blank, and then she blinked.
“Benjamin?” She twisted out of his hold and his hands dropped. He curled his fingers into fists, holding onto the tingling sensation touching her had evoked. The baby continue to wriggle and wail and she bounced and jiggled in the age-old way of mothers everywhere. “What are you doing here?”
He could only stare. He’d thought of Lynn more often than a one-night stand deserved. Especially a one-night stand that had occurred two years ago. Of course, it had also been the day after his father’s funeral. Maybe the pain of that time—and the comfort she’d given him—was why she’d stuck in his mind more than any woman he’d slept with—before or since.
She asked you a question. Answer, you dummy. “I’m the new head coach. Of the Canyon Cats.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re Benjamin Whitestone?”
In the dim light of the jazz lounge where they’d met—and later, in the hotel room he’d brought her to—he’d been too caught up in first misery and then passion to remember the colour of her irises, but saw now they were a bright pale blue. “Yes?” He couldn’t help the upward lilt, though it made him sound like an idiot. Reeling from this unexpected encounter, he wasn’t certain of anything, even his own name.
“I read you’d been hired, but I didn’t realize that Benjamin was, well, that Benjamin.”
Since they hadn’t bothered to exchange last names at their first meeting that only made sense. “I’ve thought of you. Often.” The truth blurted out before he could stop it. “How have you been?”
Her eyebrows quirked up and she shifted the now restlessly dozing baby on her hip. “I’m doing well. This is my son Oscar. He’s a year old. Just last week, actually.”
His head spun, as if a giant defencemen had laid him out flat with a body check and his skull had bounced off the ice. Scrambling to do the math, he stuttered, “A year? And we…is he…”
“No.” Her tone was firm and laced with amusement. “Relax. He’s not yours.”
“Oh.” Surely the rush flooding his body was relief. He’d never wanted to have kids. He’d been a disappointment as a son and couldn’t imagine what a mess he’d make of being a father. “So you’re married?” Oh, god. Had she been married when they’d had their night together? She’d said she was single—he remembered asking—but had she lied?
“Also no.” The amusement was gone, exasperation in its place. “Before you jump to any more conclusions, let me explain. Though I can’t see how it is any of your business.” The baby—Arthur? Oscar? he’d already forgotten—lifted his head from her shoulder and squawked. She cradled his skull in her hand and joggled rapidly. “I’m in a hurry to get home so he can have a proper nap, so you’ll have to save any questions for later. I am not and never have been married. I wanted a child, so I did in vitro fertilization, starting the process a month after we…met. Oscar is the result of that process.” The baby’s squalling took on a frantic tone. “I have to go. Congratulations on the new job. Good luck.”
Before Benjamin could say another word—which was probably been for the best, given his foot-in-mouth disease—she was gone.
About the Author
Brenda Margriet writes savvy, slow-burn, contemporary romances with ordinarily amazing characters. Readers call her stories “poignant,” “explicit and steamy,” “interesting, intriguing and entertaining,” and “unlike any romance you’ve read before.” She lives in northern British Columbia with her husband, various finny and furry pets, and has three grown children.
Her story inside Silver Soldiers: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology is “Operation Purple Sparkle Diamond.”
A resolute Afghan veteran deploys on his most desperate mission yet—wooing the hesitant heart of his daughter’s kindergarten teacher…