Sunday, May 15, 2022

Gone But Not Forgotten

I've lost some publishers along the way. Three of them, all of whom disappeared within a year or two of each other were Samhain, Loose Id, and Liquid Silver. And even though I've republished all the books I had with them, I do miss the camaraderie and support. That's why I'm always happy when the fabulous Allie Ritch reaches out to all the orphaned authors and creates a reunion post. Btw, this is a TON of work, because the years we were publishing with these three houses were, for many of us, our most productive years. In short, we're talking about a whole lot of books. 

Check 'em out here and maybe pick up a few would-have-been-favorite books that you might have missed. 

The publishers might be gone, but most of the books have been given a new life.


Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Love is never too late



A Season for Love 

Sometimes forever begins after forty. 

These fiery and passionate contemporary romances feature characters in their 40’s, 50’s and beyond. These authors don’t close the bedroom door on the good stuff, so be prepared to get hot and bothered in the best of ways. After all, lust has no age limit!

From billionaires and alpha military heroes to nerds and single dads, this limited-edition collection of sensual and sexy stories will keep you up all night and daydreaming all day! 

The one thing they have in common? They’re about to discover it’s never too late to fall in love.

This Limited Edition Collection of Contemporary Romance includes my story, Let Me Count the Ways:

BLURB:  She's thinking fling, he's thinking forever. 

Sexy former film star Claire Calhoun is used to having her pick of studly young men. Now that she and Derek have called it quits, however, the actress-turned-entrepreneur is feeling vulnerable. After one mojito too many at a party one night, she decides it would be fun to try something new-in this case, Mike Sherman, her staid accountant and long-time fan. 

 Claire has been Mike's fantasy since the first time he saw her bare it all for the camera. Now that she's in his bed he'll do whatever's necessary to keep her there. But he's not a stalker, right? He's just a devoted fan.


The gallery was crowded. The music was loud and not to my liking. And although some of the art on display was interesting enough, let’s face it; I wasn’t in the market for any more investments. I’d sunk almost everything I had into The Body Electric, which was still in its ‘hot new thing’ phase. Sure, business was good—for now. But who knew how long that would last? 
Still, the evening wasn’t a total loss. The drinks were complimentary and the bartender was to die for. I sipped my mojito and looked him over once again. 

He caught my look and smiled. “How is everything?” he asked, meaning my drink. 

“Just delicious,” I replied, making sure he knew I didn’t. 

Could I just say right here that I love men? For, oh, so many reasons. Just the sheer maleness of them. Even the sight of a five o’clock shadow on a rugged, square chin can turn me on. Can make my skin burn. Can make my fingers itch with the urge to touch and make me quiver as I imagine soft, sandpapery warmth in all my most sensitive places. Then there’s the strength in their hands, their fingers. The softness of their lips. The musk of their sweat. I swear those veins that stand out on their arms when they flex their muscles are enough, sometimes, to make me crazy. Not to mention the muscles themselves. 

The bartender had it all going on—including a killer smile and a soulful, sweet expression beneath a pair of jet-black brows. He was an actor, of course. Just like everyone in this town. At least, everyone under twenty-five. That seems to be the cut-off. By twenty-six you know if you stand the ghost of a chance or are just marking time. If you’re still in the business at twenty-eight it’s because you’ve either tasted success or figured out that there’s nothing else you’re suited for. 

When I was twenty-five, I thought I was Money. I had it made. It didn’t last. I wonder, sometimes, if it wouldn’t have been better—for me—if it hadn’t ever happened at all. Sure, I wouldn’t have been famous, but maybe I’d have been happy instead. 

Some days it feels like I gave up a lot to get here. Others, it feels like I gave up too much. Still, even on those other days, fame does have its perks. Maybe especially on those days. I’m a name. I’m a face. And I could still recall how the game was played. 

“What’s your name, sweetie?” I asked, getting into the role. 

The bartender’s eyes lit up. “Javier,” he replied, with another deadly smile. 

I pushed my glass across the bar and returned his smile with one of my own; every bit as lethal. “Well, Javier, the ice in my drink has begun to melt. Why don’t you be a darling and see if you can’t find a way to freshen it up for me, okay?” 

His smile disappeared. “Right away, Miss Calhoun,” he said as he hustled away. 

“Claire,” I murmured watching him run. Have I mentioned he had a nice butt, too? “Call me Claire.”

Would Javier sweetie really be quite so attentive if I was just a washed-up, not quite middle-aged, no-one-in-particular? Not bloody likely. But even tarnished stars still have some shine. No doubt he thought I could open doors for him. That I knew people who knew people who would give him a break. And maybe I did. Maybe I would. For a price. 

Cold? Possibly. But don’t expect me to shed any tears over yet another aspiring Adonis. This town is full of them. And, male or female, we all have to pay our dues. There’s only one real difference between Javier and me and it’s this: when I was in his shoes I was wearing heels. 

In less than a minute, he was back with a fresh new mojito. I smiled my thanks. “So, Claire, what are you doing after the party tonight?” he leaned in to ask, ambition gleaming brightly in those sweet brown eyes. No doubt he’d checked out the room while he was re-filling my drink. He’d obviously concluded that I was either the biggest name here or the easiest to hit on. Maybe both. The next move was mine. 

Before I had a chance to make it, however... “Red wine, please,” a man’s deep voice ordered sharply. Startled, Javier scrambled back to work. I turned to find Mike looming menacingly behind me. He looked quite resplendent tonight, if a little grim, dressed in charcoal pin-stripes paired with an olive silk shirt. 

“Nice suit,” I said, as I took it all in. “Fioravanti?” 

Mike snorted in amusement. “Don’t I wish. No. Dolce and Gabbana.” 

“Also nice.” I continued to study him, idly twirling the straw around in my glass. “You clean up good.” 

“Thank you,” Mike said, shooting another stern glance in Javier’s direction. The slight clenching of his jaw drew my attention higher, to the small, brownish gold stone shining in his left ear lobe. 

“Is this new?” I asked, reaching up to touch it, my fingers grazing his cheek as I did. Mike’s eyes widened into an astonished expression. His gaze flew to my face. “Oops.” I grinned. “Sorry. I guess my fingers are cold, huh?” 

Mike shook his head. “No. Not at all.” Red stained his cheekbones. His skin felt very warm against my fingers. 

“Liar.” Clucking my tongue, I withdrew my hand. My eyes, however, stayed locked with his and a familiar thrill ran through me. I love being desired. Who doesn’t? I love that flash of heat that flares in a man’s eyes when he wants you. I could see it in Mike’s eyes now and it made it hard to look away.

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

New Release: A Season for Love


It's release day for A Season of Love! And I am so thrilled to be part of this gorgeous set! In keeping with the theme of seasoned love, my story, Let Me Count the Ways, is an oldie but goodie. And I'm so happy to introduce Mike and Claire to a whole new audience. 

Sometimes forever begins after forty. 

 These fiery and passionate contemporary romances feature characters in their 40’s, 50’s and beyond. These authors don’t close the bedroom door on the good stuff, so be prepared to get hot and bothered in the best of ways. After all, lust has no age limit! 

 From billionaires and alpha military heroes to nerds and single dads, this limited-edition collection of sensual and sexy stories will keep you up all night and daydreaming all day! The one thing they have in common? They’re about to discover it’s never too late to fall in love.

 Currently only .99! 

Derek,  who appears briefly in Let Me Count the Ways is also the hero of Waiting for the Big One, AND Going to the Chapel, my LA Love Lessons/Oberon crossover novella. 

One girl, two guys and a quest for ultimate satisfaction. 

 Aspiring actress Gabby Browne refuses to consider her best friend, and personal trainer, Derek Novello for the role of soul mate fearing sex will ruin their beautiful friendship. When she meets Zach, she's convinced that he could be The One. Too bad Derek isn't willing to share-leaving Gabby forced to choose between two sexy co-stars. 

 An early morning earthquake provides Gabby with the impetus she needs to stop waiting for the stars to align and finally cast her leading man.

In Waiting For The Big One, Gabby and Derek went from being friends to being lovers. Now, they're waiting for their "big day". But will it be the wedding of their dreams? Or a bride's worst nightmare? 
 A quick trip to Gabby's hometown turns into the wedding from hell when Gabby and Derek are plagued by hailstorms, lost reservations, voracious goats, angry bees and enough family drama to fill a barn. Guess it's true what they say, "The course of true love never did run smooth." But can the happy couple hold it all together, or will their Big Day turn into a Big Mess? 

 ***A slightly different version of this book was previously released as part of the Sapphire Falls Kindle World program.***

Monday, January 24, 2022

New Release: The Name Game


NEW RELEASE!!! The Name Game is the fourth book in my Games We Play series. The series is set in my other favorite small, slightly-haunted, coastal town, Atlas Beach New Jersey.

The Name Game
A Games We Play Story
PG Forte


He knows what to do to save her business. She knows what he needs to fix his life! 

Atlas Beach is experiencing a retail-renaissance—and Carly Meyer is determined to be part of it. But her sandwich shop-slash-food-truck, The Lunch Box, is struggling to stay afloat. Luckily, help is on the way thanks to the Chamber of Commerce’s innovative mentoring program—partnering successful Atlas Beach business owners with some of the newer start-ups. Too bad the mentor assigned to her is the delectable—and highly annoying—Tino DiLuca. 

Tino knows exactly what’s hurting Carly’s business and—exactly how to fix it. But his number one solution, changing the name of her signature sandwich, is the one thing she’s not prepared to do.


It was the morning after the first night they’d spent at his house rather than hers—which felt like a milestone of sorts. He’d gotten up while she was still asleep, slipped into a pair of jeans and went upstairs. His plan was to make her breakfast in bed. It was a good plan, but she derailed it a few minutes later, by tiptoeing up the stairs just as he was assembling their sandwiches.

“Hey,” she whispered from the doorway, tugging uselessly at the hem of her T-shirt, as she glanced around. “Is your brother gone?”

He smiled at the sight of her. She looked adorable with her cheeks still flushed with sleep and her hair scraped back from her face in a ponytail. But no matter how hard she tried, she was never going to get that shirt to stretch far enough to cover her lacy, red thong—which was very obviously the only other item of clothing she had on. “C’mon up. The coast is clear.”

“Something smells good,” she said inhaling deeply as she came to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and peered over his arm at the food he was plating, distracting him with her closeness and her softness and her warmth. “Are those what I think they are?”

“If you think you’re looking at two of the greatest breakfast sandwiches ever invented, then yes, they absolutely are.”

Ooh, big talk,” she teased. “But can they live up to all that hype? That’s what I’m wondering.”

“True facts,” he responded. “And, yes, they can and will. Now, why don’t you pour us both some coffee from that pot over there while I finish up?” He’d fried some potatoes to accompany the sandwiches. Now he piled those on the plates as well, topping them with a dollop of sour cream and dusting of fresh-cut chives. A salad of fresh grapefruit and mint and a little bit of honey rounded out the meal and provided a balance for all the salt. 

“That looks amazing,” she said as he slid the plates on the table and took the seat around the corner from hers.

“Thank you. But it’ll taste even better.” He gestured at the condiments and said, “So help yourself to a little SPK, and eat up!”

“A little…?”

“Or a lot, if that’s what you prefer. No judgment here.”

“No. I mean, what did you say?  SP…what?”

“Salt. Pepper. Ketchup,” he replied, pointing at each of them in turn. “The traditional condiments. Some people like hot sauce, but it’s not for me.”

Carly nodded. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she said, “Yeah, I’ve heard that it’s a good idea to keep hot sauce away from your uh…meat.”

“Exactly.” He wasn’t entirely sure why that put such a big smile on her face, but since the sight of it had short-circuited his brain, he didn’t bother to try. He just dug into his own sandwich.

It was one of the better meals of his life, and one of his happiest moments ever, sitting at his mother’s kitchen table watching the woman he’d fallen in love with fall in love with some of his favorite foods. 

She wolfed down several bites of sandwich, before licking her lips and saying, “Wow. This is…”

“Good?” he suggested.

“Amazing,” she corrected, in between additional bites. “But…pork roll. I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“It’s a question for the ages, all right.”

“It’s salty and tangy, a little smoky. But all of that seems so…inadequate. It’s not like anything I’ve ever had.”

“Nope.” He grinned at her attempts to describe the indescribable. “It’s entirely its own thing. Which is why I have some sympathy for #TeamTaylorHam. I mean, they’re still wrong of course, because it’s not ham, but then again, American Cheese isn’t cheese either, so…”

She frowned at him. “That’s a horrible analogy.”

“Very true,” he agreed, then watched as she cleared her plate in record time. “So I take it you liked it?”

“I really did.”

She sounded surprised, which did not surprise him at all. “I know they’re not in the same league as your sandwiches, he told her, “But this is Jersey, you know what I mean?  It’s home.”

“It’s you,” she said—which wasn’t wrong. “And I really appreciate your wanting to share that with me.”

“You’re welcome.” Always. “Are you ready for another?”

“Not right now.”

“Well then, can I get you something else?”

She flashed him another of those thought-derailing smiles and said, “Yes, actually. Now that you mention it. Because, as far as taste goes, I think I’d only rank it as my second favorite New Jersey product. And I think it’s time I  had another taste of first place.”

“Tomatoes?” he guessed, not really surprised, because there really was no beating those—although bagels, pizza, blue crabs, and fresh corn all came pretty close—but definitely disappointed because it was only March, which was months too early for tomatoes!

“No, not tomatoes. We were talking about breakfast meat,” she said, shooting him an expectant look that left him mystified. 

Were they? “But there isn’t any—” he said, breaking off again when she started to laugh. “What?”

“Omigod, I meant you,” she said with a nod at his lap.

“Oh.” The grin on his face was probably making him look goofy as fuck, but he couldn’t care less. “Good to know?”

She shook her head. “Here I am doing my best to flirt with you and it’s all just going over your head. Obviously, one of us is really bad at this. Or maybe both of us are?”

“I don’t think either of us are bad at any of this.” He crooked a finger at her. “But forget flirting for now. Maybe you should just come over here and let me give you another little taste test.”

“Good idea,” she said getting up from her chair and rounding the table to straddle his lap. “It is an important designation, after all. I wouldn’t want to be hasty in my decision making.”