What's Inside

Afternoon Delight has a new look, Italian's Diamond Deception is up on Harlequin.com, a report on my retreat, come see me live, watch my recent interview, read an excerpt, celebrate my call-iversary and all the usual Whats. Settle in! It's a big one!

It's my Call-iversary and it's all thanks to you!

On May 8th, 2012, I got The Call. After 25 years of trying, Mills & Boon in London wanted to publish my book. Ahhh!

Fourteen years later, I'm writing my 70th Harlequin, staring down my 100th book overall and I couldn't have done it without you, you, you my delicious, voracious, cherished reader.

Writing is a lot of riding through a desert on a horse with no name. It's often quiet and lonely and arduous, but sometimes I come upon a milestone like this and realize how far I've come. Which is also when I realize how I got here.

I hope this comes off the right way, but readers are the horse that carries me along on my journey. I would not and could not be here without you. If I haven't told you lately, I appreciate you. I love you. Thank you for picking up my books and sticking with me all this time.

Here. Have some water. Have some oats. Now let's keep going, shall we?

Afternoon Delight - Pre-Order

Hey! Remember when I said Afternoon Delight had been acquired by Pownal Street Press for their new romance line, Sugar Shack. (Isn't that a fabulous name?) It has a fabulous new cover!

Playful afternoons turn into something deeper…

Freshly divorced and nearing forty, Meg regrets making all the safe choices. When her best friend needs surgery, Meg puts her accounting career on hold to run her friend’s racy adult toy shop—but her vanilla life never prepared her for this!

At thirty-two, Zak leaves the tech world for his dad’s antique store, wanting time with him before dementia erases his father’s memories. He’s Meg’s landlord, but she becomes his confidante, distracting him from his troubles with her suggestive puns and amusing misadventures.

Flirty banter leads to test-driving toys together, but Meg knows they won’t last. Their age-gap puts them in different life-stages and she lives in Toronto. A few afternoons of delight can’t change her life. Or can they?

~

Pre-order links for the print copies are starting to show up. You can find them on my website or you can order it from your local indie book store.

​Links​

Italian's Diamond Deception

Did you read Business-Deal Bride and wonder what happened to Mira, after she found out her father wasn't her father and her groom was not her groom? Good news! Her story is available early on Harlequin.com.

A bridal bargain…

With the enemy!

Mira Braun’s life crumbled when she discovered her “father’s” lies. Revenge is the balm she needs to soothe her aching wounds. And his business rival, billionaire from her past Rocco DeStephano, can help her get it. Though Mira never expected him to seal their alliance with a fake engagement!

The red-hot encounter he and Mira once shared still haunts Rocco. He may not trust her, but to consolidate his power over his competition, he’ll brand Mira with his diamond. Only, acting publicly enraptured establishes a deeper connection that wasn’t part of their deal…

​Harlequin.com​

​Pre-order Links​

Hello Reader,

I had a fabulous time with Rebecca Hunter and Tara Pammi in Vancouver.

If you're wondering what goes on at a writing retreat--or whether that's code for sitting around drinking wine--it's both. We set aside time for writing and revisions, but we also talked shop and visited book stores, and brainstormed ideas for individual projects as well as some really fun ideas for us to work on together.

I won't tell you what those are until we've got more pieces in place. For instance, we've pitched one to Harlequin and now must wait for their thumbs-up, but we're confident they'll love it and you will, too.

I was also able to spend time with both our kids. Our daughter and her husband have purchased their first home, a condo with a guest room. The night before the retreat, I pitched in some cash toward their new murphy-bed with the goal of having a free place to stay in future.

On the Friday night, I skipped out on Rebecca and Tara for a quick dinner with Sam and his girlfriend, Emily, which was a lovely visit at a Mexican restaurant. We then lined up for ice cream. Apparently, the queues outside ice cream shops are very normal in Vancouver the minute the weather turns the least bit sunny.

It's a quick turn around for me here at home. I leave for my workshop in Victoria in a few days. I'm excited to see more author friends, but I also know I'll need a rest from all the people-time once I'm home again.

After this month's event, I should be home all summer. I have two events in the fall, though. Read about them below and mark your calendar. I'd love to see you there!

Meet Me in...

Victoria, BC - May 9th

Dear Reader Workshop for Authors - Learn to love your newsletter so your readers will too! Discover how to turn your author newsletter from a dreaded chore into your most powerful (and enjoyable!) marketing tool. In this workshop, you’ll explore simple strategies to connect authentically, grow your list, and make readers look forward to every email you send.

​More Info​

Enderby, BC - Sep 12th

The 2026 Enderby Lit-Con is scheduled for September 12th, 2026, at the Splatsin Community Centre in Enderby, B.C., featuring a gathering of local authors, writers, and book lovers. The event operates like a market/convention, featuring dozens of authors, genre variety, and panels on writing.

​More Info​

Edmonton, BC - Oct 2nd-3rd

The Romance, eh? Booksigning is back, bringing Romance Readers, Authors, and Vendors together. This two day event includes a reader-author mixer, VIP goodies, and morning and afternoon signing sessions. I hope to see you there!

​More Info​

See me online here...

I recently had the chance to chat with Steve Brock, author of Brand Something Beautiful. If you were here last year, you would have seen his book in my December wrap-up. If you're a creative who is trying to make a living at your craft, I highly recommend his book for finding the essence of your brand.

If you want to watch/listen in on our chat, you can find it here.

What Was I Thinking? - Oops!

Did you catch my goof? I sent out my WWIT email on Monday, because of the book blast on Tuesday. I *thought* I had checked the actual email before I scheduled it, but apparently not. I goofed and had the wrong book featured inside.

These are the books I covered in April and you can find all the (correct) links under Listen Now:

• From The Top
• In Too Deep
• Innocent in Her Enemy's Bed
• Awakened on Her Royal Wedding Night

​Listen Now​

What I'm Watching

Despite all the driving, I left my house last night to see Project Hail Mary, which is a very entertaining two hours.

Doug and I watched Our Oceans, narrated by Barack Obama. It's not only beautiful, but sometimes funny and occasionally scary. Orcas are positively diabolical.

A fan recommended High Potential. (Hi Heather!) But I feel like more than one person has suggested it so I'm sorry if I missed you in the shout out. This one is just enough drama and Kaitlin Olson is very fun to watch.

Aaron Chen's new standup on Netflix, Funny Garden, is fun. If you need a refresher, he plays George on Fisk which I have watched through too many times to mention.

We tried an older movie (2013) with Saoirse Ronan called How I Live Now. It also stars Tom Holland playing fourteen and he looks about that age. It's interesting, but very dystopian. Some scenes are hard to watch. Well acted, though.

I am very late to the party, but I have started watching Scandal and I do not know why I didn't go to this party sooner. It's a very good time.

What's Next

I was hoping to have my latest Presents finished by end of April, but I received some edits for Afternoon Delight. Nothing major, but the editor at Sugar Shack had some really good feedback. If you've read the book, you won't find it hugely different, but there will be a few tweaks. (She asked me to cut a whole chapter and she was right. 😭)

I've sent Sugar Shack a second book and I'm waiting to hear what they think. I have no fingernails left to bite.

Fun fact: I've written a prequel to Afternoon Delight called After-Hours Rendezvous. It tells the story of Georgia and Bruno. I'll have all the details on how you can get your hands on that soon.

Now I'm back to finishing my latest Presents, which features a king and a ridiculously fun opening. More on that one soon.

And I have one super-secret project that is looking very close to being a go. I will tell you all about it as soon as I can, but it will keep me busy into next year if it happens and I really hope it does. Wish me luck!

Happy Endings

I'm so very happy that I was able to attend my retreat. Publishing is a very weird animal and it's wonderful to spend time with friends who understand it. We were in Kitsilano and walked the neighborhoods midday and I cannot describe how lovely that was--the weather was great, the gardens lush and blooming, the houses all cute and different. It was a perfect getaway.

Hugs,

Dani

Excerpt - Italian's Diamond Deception

Three years ago…

Mira Braun had finished her last exam and was determined to celebrate.

Unfortunately, she’d been so focused on attaining her degree, she didn’t have any friends to celebrate with. She didn’t even have flatmates. When she had been accepted at London Business School, she had bought a one-bedroom condo with money from her mother’s trust.

She had thought making an investment rather than throwing money away on rent would show her father she had business savvy, but he’d only been annoyed at her for making him call the trustee to set it up.

Lucky him, he wouldn’t have to do that anymore. As of her birthday last November, Mira had control of her own funds. Her father’s assistant had sent her flowers for that occasion, supposedly from him, but all Otto Braun had said about it was that they would discuss how she would move forward with administering her mother’s money.

He hadn’t even texted to congratulate her on finishing school, she noted with a glance at her phone and a pang of inadequacy. He hadn’t asked when she would return to Berlin. He hadn’t confirmed whether she would have a job at his firm or what role he would start her in.

What would it take to get him to notice her? To care? She had vague memories of him being, maybe not a warm father, but not such a cold one. Around the time she started school, however, he’d begun peppering her with the icy sleet of his critical remarks. What had she done to deserve it?

Stop it, she ordered herself. There was nothing worse than an adult woman with daddy issues. She knew her own worth. If she felt she was entitled to recognition and reward, she gave it to herself. She was doing that now, wasn’t she? Lounging by this rooftop pool atop one of London’s most exclusive hotels?

She’d had a massage and a foot bath and hot-stone therapy. Now, she was dozing between sips of cucumber water.

If she did have friends, they would laugh and say it was typical that she was celebrating alone, without so much as a glass of champagne, in a way that involved the least amount of conversation and other people. She hadn’t even cracked the weighty historical romance she’d brought.

Mira was actually a massive introvert who didn’t know how to relate to people. A counsellor might blame her father’s indifference or the loss of her mother, who had passed right before Mira had started university, caught in a flash flood while traveling. It had been a horrific shock and Mira still missed her, but that wasn’t the reason she felt as though she was out of step with the rest of the human race. She just did and always had.

That usually made her anxious, but today, for the first time in forever, she was truly relaxed. It was late afternoon, midweek. She had the place to herself. The only sound was the gentle, new-age instrumental that drowned out the distant noise of traffic. Her lounger was under a roof supported by columns at the pool’s edge. Her legs were touched by the slant of sun. The day was warm enough that she opened her robe and shrugged out of the sleeves. She wore only the bandeau bikini she had put on in case she decided to step into the pool.

She might fall asleep first. This was perfect.

The low hum at the door into the hotel announced someone else had arrived. Crap. The peacefulness had been nice while it lasted.

The door quietly thumped closed, then there was a faint sound of something being set on one of the glass-topped tables.

She opened her heavy eyelids to slits, wishing she’d thought to bring her sunglasses and planning to pretend she was asleep so she wouldn’t have to talk to whoever it was.

Oh. A man appeared in her line of vision. He ran his fingers beneath the legs of his navy blue briefs, snapping them a fraction of a centimeter lower on the firm curve of his buttocks. The rest of his tanned, muscular body wore only the droplets of water from his recent shower.

Without noticing her, he stood on the No Diving letters and sprang out like an arrow, clearing the shallow end and cutting in where the deep end started. He stayed under until he turned at the wall, then he surfaced and began to swim laps. His strokes were powerful enough that he seemed to levitate across the surface rather than push through the water. It took only three or four strokes before he was flipping and going back the other way.

Mira was mesmerized by his even tempo and the casual way his feet flipped up at the wall each time. He only seemed to take a breath once each lap and his movements were so graceful, he was genuinely beautiful to watch.

She never stared at people. She hated when it happened to her, but she was only appreciating his power and athleticism. She wasn’t oglingthose long, tanned arms or his flexing back, or the arc of his buttocks and the muscles on the backs of his thighs.

Even so, a curious sensuality unspooled in her. A restlessness that had her shifting her feet to feel the softness of her insteps with the tops of her toes. Her hand touched her hair in its clip, then absently drifted down her nape and into the hollow of her throat. Her breasts felt constrained and her thoughts took a turn that was deeply unlike her.

How would it feel to make love with him?

She’d never even had sex, so it wasn’t as though she had anything for comparison. The few dates she’d been on had been awkward occasions that caused her so much anxiety, she had felt like a robot pretending to be human. She’d been incapable of decent conversation or allowing more than a brief kiss.

Until today, she’d never looked at anyone and felt tendrils of intrigue quicken her blood. She had never, ever eyed up a man’s bulge and curled her toes in reaction, but that’s what happened when this stranger flipped into a backstroke. She couldn’t take her eyes off the width of his chest as he rocked back and forth, long arms windmilling up and back, stretching out his abs with each stroke. His thick thighs kicked in a way that made his hips pump and shorten her breath.

This was so—

Inappropriate.

She forced herself to reach for her water and stared into it as she sipped to dampen her dry throat.

She was still hyperaware of the stranger, though. The muted splashing, the relentless pattern of him driving from end to end like a tiger pacing his cage.

Should she leave? Give him his privacy?

She decided to wait for him to leave since she wasn’t ready to return to her silent flat, where she had to think about packing to move home again.

That thought cast a cool shadow across her heart. It was the dread of seeing her father every day. Of pacing in her own cage, striving to prove herself to a man who genuinely didn’t seem to care about her.

The stranger arrived at the shallow end and stood. Water sluiced off his shoulders and down his torso. His chest had a neatly groomed amount of hair that decorated his pecs and accentuated the stacked muscles of his abs. The waterline cut across the top of his very small swimsuit well below his navel. There was a suggestion of hair there, and she yanked her gaze from studying it.

He was looking straight at her, almost confrontational, making her suspect he had known she was here all along. Which was disturbing.

She wished she had pulled her robe back on while he’d been swimming. She felt very naked all of a sudden, but it would reveal her nerves to cover up now.

Without a word, he slapped his hand on the ledge and levered to sit with his back to her, legs still in the water. His rib cage heaved as he took a few deep breaths, but he didn’t seem winded from his exertion.

Should she say something? This was how social anxiety undermined her. The moment to offer a polite smile or greeting was gone and voices of self-doubt were creeping in. She would only sound stupid if she said something now. Better not to say anything.

She’s such a snob, she had overheard more than once during her years at boarding school, all because she didn’t fit in with the boy-crazy fashionistas who spent all their time gossiping and preening for selfies. She liked reading and historical facts and walking in parks and gardens. The few times she’d tried to make connections at university, she’d garnered surprised looks, as though her fellow students hadn’t imagined she possessed a voice.

She had to change that about herself. She knew she did. She would soon have an executive position in her father’s company, along with staff to direct. Eventually, she hoped to have a family.

Making babies with this man would not be a chore, she decided, allowing herself another look at the way his broad shoulders narrowed to his waist. His short hair wasn’t quite black. It picked up reddish-brown tones in the sun.

He flexed his shoulders as though he felt her gaze, then abruptly swung to his feet and faced her. The sun was above and behind him, making her squint, unable to read his expression. She had the sense that his gaze was raking down her, though, before slamming back to her face.

Her heart began to knock in her chest.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asked in a deep voice that held a hint of an Italian accent. “Or would you like to have a drink with me?”

A thousand reactions accosted her: surprise, flattered delight, threat at being noticed, fear of failure. Irrational panic. Her mouth filled with thoughts like I have a drink, and I’d rather be alone.

But she didn’t want to be alone. Not forever. She was actually profoundly lonely.

Change, she ordered herself.

And that word actually reminded her that she was mostly undressed, as was he.

She started to gather her robe around herself. “Downstairs? I’d like to dress first.”

“Here. I’ll order something.” He nodded toward the entrance, where she had seen a phone mounted to the wall inside the hotel. “Wine?”

“White, please.”

He stepped away to make the call.

She hurried to pull on her robe only to immediately overheat, flustered and blushing. She pulled her arms from the sleeves and looked around, wishing she’d brought the crocheted cover-up she normally threw over her bikini.

Not that she was underdressed. He returned and held out a hand, filling her vision with way too much tanned skin and that itsy-bitsy scrap that covered his not so itsy-bitsy bulge.

“Rocco.” He met her gaze in a way that reminded her of a train crashing out of a tunnel.

She swallowed, so hot inside her skin. Her belly was filled with glowing embers. It took such an effort to bring her hand up, she must have looked reluctant to do so.

“Mira.” Her voice had to be dragged up from beneath the waves of shyness and overwhelm that accosted her.

He pumped once, making her heart feel like a squeezed balloon. Then he sprawled into the lounger beside her, one hand hooking up behind his head to grasp the top edge, one knee crooked in negligent ease.

“How long are you in London?” He turned his head toward her.

How could such a handsome man be interested in her? She wasn’t repulsive or anything, but she was very average, with a too-wide mouth, mousy brown hair and plain brown eyes. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her hair was a bird’s nest in a clip.

“I came for the spa.” Typically, she would leave her answer there and hate herself later for sounding standoffish. “I’ve been living in London while going to school. I just finished. This is my reward,” she volunteered with an awkward laugh, waving at her cucumber water.

“Congratulations.” He sounded sincere, then turned his attention across the pool, mouth twisting. “I dropped out long before uni and never went back.”

He looked to be in his late twenties and must be doing well enough if he was staying here.

“What, um…” Small talk shouldn’t feel this big. “What brings you to London?”

“Business.” His tone was dismissive, but he turned his head again so he his dark brown eyes were pulling at hers. “What will you do now that you’re finished school?”

“Go home to Berlin and work for my father’s company.” Here again she would normally keep her mouth shut, fearful of sounding like a braggart, but she continued. “It’s an engineering firm.” With contracts around the globe. “Vorstoben International? Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

“I have.” His jaw flexed as he seemed to ponder something, then he asked, “You took a business degree?”

“With a focus on accounting. I considered HR, but I’m not a people person.” Why had she said that? It made her sound like a sociopath. “I just mean I prefer numbers. They’re straightforward. Dealing with people is complicated.”

“Amen,” he snorted.

“Right? The intro-to-HR class gave examples of an employee stealing from a company because they were being evicted, then another about someone who was wrongfully dismissed, but was a terrible worker so you had to keep them on. I don’t want to be tasked with judgment calls on situations that are so murky.”

“Sometimes, there is no right answer. No right choice.” His expression was inscrutable, proving her point about people being difficult to read.

But his agreement bolstered her. She had feared she was babbling. Now, she smiled, pleased. Her heart hitched as their gazes tangled. Her pulse began to hammer in her throat.

A server arrived with a wine bucket and a pair of unbreakable glasses, defusing the subtle tension while the wine was tasted and poured.

When they were alone, Rocco held out his glass. “To complicated people.”

“And thorny situations?”

“Did you say ‘thorny’? Or…” His mouth twitched.

She couldn’t help her gurgle of amusement.

Was this what bantering felt like? She touched her glass to his and sipped. For once, all the knotted threads, inescapable labyrinths and tangled forests inside her weren’t tripping her up.

“Am I guessing correctly that you’re Italian?” she asked.

“I am. My office is in Rome, but I was born in Salerno.”

“My mother loved the Amalfi Coast!” She reacted from a place of pure, nostalgic joy, turning on her lounger to curl her knees and lean on her shoulder and hip, so she could face him. “She had a villa in Praiano.”

“Oh? Have you been?”

“Not lately.” She wrinkled her nose in disappointment. “She took me with her a few times when I was young, but she usually went while I was away at school. It came to me after she passed. My father arranged for it to be rented so I haven’t seen it in years.” She tapped her chin as she realized the choice to rent it or use it was hers now. “I should look into that.”

“You should.” Every glance from him had an impact on her, making her feel as though he knew her far better than she knew herself.

“Do you, um…” She was trying very hard to act like a normal person. “Do you still have family there?”

“No.” He averted his attention to the far side of the pool. “I lost my parents when I was a baby. My aunt raised me until I was nine. She’s gone now.”

“I’m sorry. That’s so young to be…” She stopped herself from saying alone. Was he? Perhaps he had an ex-wife and kids. Or a current wife. She watched him closely. “To be without family.”

“It’s my observation that family is also very complicated.” His mouth twitched wryly. “One of those be-careful-what-you-wish-for situations.”

“It can be,” she murmured, thinking of the undercurrents she’d always sensed within her parents’ marriage, and the undiscussed hostility she received from her father.

Her mother had been her everything, always cushioning her against her father’s disregard. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just very busy. Without her mother as a buffering presence, Mira’s relationship with him had deteriorated to now being distant and perplexing.

“I always wished for brothers and sisters,” she admitted wistfully.

It’s just not possible, my love, her mother had said until Mira quit asking.

Rocco was looking at her again, seeming more than interested. His unwavering attention practically demanded she continue speaking.

“I played with a little girl one summer. My mother’s neighbor in Praiano, actually.” She was delighted to recall that detail. “There were six children in their family. I was so envious. They squabbled constantly, which was overwhelming for an only child to be around, but her eldest sister fixed my hair. Her brother stopped me from running onto the road. I felt so protected when I was with them. I wanted to be enfolded into all of that.” She wove her fingers together, grinning at her younger self. At how idyllic she thought a big family must be.

Rocco didn’t smile. His cheek ticked.

“Oh, gawd,” she realized with horror. “I sound like I’m looking for a man to marry me and give me six babies, don’t I?” She straightened in her lounger, mortified. “This is why I never talk to people. The most ridiculous things come out of my mouth.”

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous.” His tone turned light. “I’m usually a few dates in before having this conversation, but I like a woman who is clear about her expectations.” He hid his laughter behind the rim of his glass.

She didn’t mind. She was in on the joke and chuckled at herself, then asked, “Isthis a date? Because, as you can tell, I don’t waste my time with men who want to stop at five. Cowards.”

She was proud of herself for trying to flirt and glanced to find him watching her with a strange expression. Amusement lingered around his eyes, but there was something grave there, too.

“That was a joke,” she said quickly.

“I know.”

The shape of his mouth was mesmerizing. His lips were full but not wide. The peaks in his upper lip were set closely, seeming ready for a kiss. His five-o’clock shadow was coming in, accentuating the shape of his jaw, and his dark eyebrows were straight, serious lines above his watchful eyes.

“I’m many things, but not a coward. Let’s make this a real date.” He drained his wine and stood, holding out a hand. “Have dinner with me.”

“Now?” She had brought a pair of wide-legged trousers with a cute halter top and jacket to the hotel with her, thinking to treat herself to dinner. Still, she hesitated out of shyness. Out of incredulity that he was attracted to her.

“I missed lunch. I’m starving,” he added.

She was befuddled as she swung her feet off the lounger, looking for the sandals she’d left beside it. She kicked into them and accepted the hand he continued to hold out to her, feeling way too close to him as she stood. She reached down to pick up her robe.

He took it and held it behind her, so she was inside his extended arms, gaze confronted with his naked chest as she threaded her arms into the sleeves.

She blushed and blindly searched for the belt while he dropped his hands to his sides.

When she looked up at him, she found him studying her. Staring at her mouth hard enough to make her lips sting.

I don’t know how to do this, she wanted to confess, but her gaze snagged on the shape of his mouth.

“I’m dying to kiss you.” His gaze slowly came back to hers. “Will you let me?”

Her heart was thudding so hard, she barely heard him. Her response had to be dredged from the very depths of her suffocating chest. Warmth was blossoming in her, though, filling her with curiosity and longing.

“Yes.”

His hand arrived at the side of her neck. His head dipped and his lips brushed hers. It was a barely there contact that sent a zing through her whole body, like a static shock. It left a tickling sensation she would have licked away, but his lips came back, settling more firmly against hers. Angling. Seeking and sealing into a hot, hungry ravishing.

Her heart swerved in her chest and her hand found his bare waist, trying to steady herself, but the satin skin against her palm only made her feel dizzier.

She had always felt awkward in a long kiss. As though she stood outside herself. It had always felt like something happening to her, but this was different. As they aligned their bodies, she felt like a puzzle piece clicking into its mate. Nothing existed beyond the swirls of heat pouring through her—the heat of him penetrating the robe, the awareness of stubble where his chin scraped hers and the strength in his hands as he pulled her closer.

She forgot where they were or how little she knew about him. He wasn’t a stranger. How could he be when this felt so natural, like drinking water to slake a thirst? She lifted onto tiptoes and leaned in, arms reaching behind his neck for balance to press herself closer.

Nothing like this had ever happened to her, but she flowed toward him, pulled by a force that was like a tide or a sweeping river. It was a magnetic polarity that dragged her to into her perfect opposite. Compelling and unbreakable. Easing the charge of emptiness.

With a small growling noise, he brushed the robe open and slid his arm around her waist beneath it. Her nearly naked body came up against his cool, damp skin and lightning shot through her. She stiffened at the jolt, releasing a small sob of pleasure-pain.

He started to lift his head. She made another noise of protest and pressed the back of his wet hair, chasing his kiss. He angled to plunder deeper, drowning her in sensations until she was drenched in arousal.

​Read more on my website