Spotlight: Thirty Grains of Love by Anette Rosen

Publication date: August 26th 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Thriller, Women’s Fiction

What if the life you fight to save is the life that keeps you from becoming free?

It is 2001, and renowned artist Isabella unveils a triumphant solo exhibition at Boston’s prestigious modern art gallery. While critics have hailed her talent for creating spectacular color-saturated canvases, her career, marriage, and finances are crumbling.

Determined to save her family’s historical house by the sea as well as her psychiatrist husband’s reputation during his court trial in Europe, Isabella must somehow care for her daughter without a steady income. After she demands that her former lover, Angel, support her passion project, Isabella promises him one night in return. Restoring the house and obtaining financing are both part of the project. This depends on tracking down her missing best friend, Nina, whom she had put forward to a wealthy sponsor for adapting his memoir into a novel.

Now trapped in a love triangle and a deepening financial crisis, Isabella must find a way forward as the conflict between love, legacy, and survival compels her to question her deepest beliefs while her reputation hangs in the balance.

Thirty Grains of Love is the tale of long-time friends who must piece together their broken personal lives while pursuing their dreams, defining their identities, and experiencing authentic love for the very first time. Set against the backdrop of history and generational echoes of secrecy and social limitations, it explores the route to happiness and its price across four marriage models—trad wife, double career, open relationship, and unequal income.

An uplifting story with a dual timeline showing that the hardest yet most rewarding decision in midlife is to embrace one’s true self.

Excerpt

ISABELLA

The Exhibition

Boston 2001

Here I am on another continent, living my dream—a dream I had forgotten and now need to save. Beau Isabella conquered the art world—only to lose everything she ever had. What a deal. And what a mess. Me, as usual, but this time it's for real.

People are gathering outside the exhibit at NAGA, Boston's prestigious modern art gallery, welcoming the snowflakes on their faces and eager to get in. Above the entrance hangs a banner adorned with vibrant, shimmering purple letters: ISABELLA. I picture the stars skating far above, poised to illuminate the city in pristine white once the clouds clear. 

I wish I fit in here. I wish I were free.

My first exhibition in North America. Pressure, a heavy weight, mingles with pride. TV reporters speaking at the entrance about explosions of color, enchanted faces, and innovative art. Behind them, a poster depicts my auburn hair and pale shoulders as I turn around in a sweeping movement. The New York Times featured an extensive review last week, and I keep rereading my favorite part:

It is hard to believe that Boston discovered this incredible talent first. Visitors say they haven't experienced colors like this since the Impressionist era. Isabella's compositions spark countless interpretations; the public and the critics have fallen in love with her. 

I hope I can keep the palette bright if Nina is still missing. I need her for my project, and I need her as a friend. She always finds the right words. And then Lucy's school bills arrive, as punctual as a Japanese train. How could Chris be so sure we can afford it all? 

Yesterday was different. I stood near the gallery entrance in my burgundy evening dress, trying to appear both graceful and casual amid the camera flashes—I'm not ready for celebrity just yet. My gallery partner, Alicia, took me aside to meet another journalist.

Meanwhile, I handled the press questions with ease. They've become routine, even on television. I only make them put on more rouge to hide how pale my skin is from no sleep and daily exhaustion. Some journalists worship me and submit to my presence just to serve the public—even if they haven't seen my work. Others are looking for a juicy detail that might make me more intriguing, trying to chip away at my "art goddess" halo.

Still, this time, a humble man from a local magazine, at first distracted and absorbed in his notes, brought me out of my shell with his last question:

"How has your talent remained, even after you ignored it for decades? Is there someone in the family from whom you inherited this gift?"

I took a deep breath. The walls started moving, like each time I tried to approach the tripod hiding in a corner at home. We had long sacrificed the atelier. Feeling miserable for not having painted in years, I didn't need a gray-suited journalist to remind me of that. I'm thirty-eight, not retired. And it's a question I never answer in public. So, despite the subtle provocation, I responded with a smile.

"It's not as if I completely ignored it—books with my illustrations flew off the shelves like hotcakes. I enjoy children's books the most because they encourage kids to give wings to their imagination before they can read longer texts. The most important thing in life is to touch someone with what you do. If you give somebody a lesson, valuable advice, a beautiful song, or a new life, then you've been present in this world." I shook my head, letting my earrings swing, to give him a sign that the interview was over. 

After that, I enjoyed the peacefulness of my natural surroundings—an exhibition hall filled with paintings and new ideas. I knew I had one last chance to preserve it all, but it felt good not to think about reality for a while. After all, Nina must still be alive—she left of her own free will—and for the time being, I somehow serve my debt and Chris' lawyers' bills. If only he could silence the media… What was his psychiatrist's training for? He employed the wrong assistant, and now she is destroying his reputation.

However, you need a free heart to create, so instead of diving into accounting, I keep dreaming of restoring the seaside villa. An art object, it would be my perfect retreat. 

It was a pleasant surprise when the next visitor entered the room. Maybe he could contribute to achieving my dream. Angel's height and wavy dark hair seized everyone's attention. He surveyed the space like a panther, searching for a suitable place to start. I bounded over to him.

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Anette has been writing stories since she could hold a pencil, short after she turned four. What started as an intrinsic love for storytelling has turned into a lifelong passion, only to be subdued for a while by a professional career and the care she took of her two wonderful daughters. There's nothing Anette likes better than writing (and reading) stories that are both inspiring and humorous, with a touch of romance and a heartwarming streak of truth running through them. 

Anette is a passionate traveller and a big dreamer who never gives up on anything. When she's not writing or inventing new stories, you can find her among her friends or in her maisonette in Frankfurt, Germany, watching masterpiece movies or a tennis match with a glass of wine and her fluffy cat, Lia, beside her.

Anette has a master's degree in English and American literature and a PhD in Linguistics. Having worked as a freelance translator and a project manager, her favourite job has been that of a Tour Director, leading North American groups on educational tours throughout Europe. 

Anette’s stories have found their home in online and printed magazines. Her novella "The Sea Moves On" was published in October 2022 in Sofia to receive a hearty welcome from its readers. Currently, the novel “Thirty Grains of Love” is short before publication.

Connect:

https://www.instagram.com/anetterosenbooks/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/71990276.Anette_Rosen

https://www.anette-rosen.com/

https://www.tiktok.com/@ana.petkova

https://www.facebook.com/people/Anette-Rosen/61593622580610/

Thirty Grains of Love Blitz

Spotlight: Scoring Destiny by Kat Mizera

Release Date: October 15

AVAILABLE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED

One reckless night was supposed to help me forget.

My ex-wife's wedding is everywhere. Every headline. Every photo. Every reminder of the life that fell apart.

So I do what any NHL player trying to outrun the past would do—I find the beautiful stranger who makes me forget my own name for one unforgettable night.

Then I walk away.

Until she walks back into my life.

Turns out the woman I can't stop thinking about is my teammate's little sister.

Now she's everywhere. In the stands. At team dinners. Under my skin.

I've spent years convincing myself I don't do relationships. Not after my marriage imploded.

But Macy doesn't settle for half-hearted. She deserves a man who's all in.

The problem?

For the first time in my life...I want to be that man.

Because losing one marriage was enough.

I'm not about to lose the woman who might just be my forever.

Buy on Amazon

Meet Kat Mizera

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Kat Mizera was born in Miami Beach with a healthy dose of Wanderlust. She's lived from coast to coast, and everywhere in between, but home is wherever her family is. A devoted mom and wife to her wonderful and supportive husband (Kevin) and two amazing boys (Nick and Max), Kat loves to travel the globe with her adventurous, hockey loving family. Greece is at the top of that list. She hopes to one day retire there, spending her days writing books on the beach.

Kat is former freelance sports writer who now writes steamy hockey romance about her favorite fictional teams, the Las Vegas Sidewinders and the Lauderdale Knights. The library of novels she's penned also include sexy contemporary stories about baseball stars, alpha sex club owners, bodyguards, rock stars, and royalty. Regardless of genre, her books about bad boys with hearts of gold will steal your breath, rock your world and melt your heart.

To find out about Kat Mizera’s upcoming releases and giveaways, sign up for her newsletter here

For more information on Kat Mizera and her books visit: https://katmizera.com/

Connect with Kat Mizera: https://katmizera.com/pages/contact-kat

Spotlight: Skip Carter: Henchman for Hire by J. Von Swan

Publication date: October 13th 2026

Genres: Action, Adult, Humor

From the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series comes a story about the guy nobody roots for — until now.

Skip Carter isn’t a hero. He’s a former soldier, ex-con, and lifelong screw-up whose only real talent is taking punches and showing up anyway. So when a shady agency offers to rent him out as muscle for supervillains, he figures it’s just another paycheck.

But between ridiculous costumes, insane bosses, and jobs that always end in broken bones, Skip starts to realize the real losers are the guys stuck cleaning up after the chaos. And when a world-ending threat finally hits Skytropolis, he gets one shot to stop being the disposable henchman and start being the man his daughter believes he can be.

Darkly funny, surprisingly heartfelt, and packed with action, Skip Carter, Henchman for Hire is for anyone who’s ever felt like the sidekick in their own story.

Excerpt

Mrs. Fuller glanced down her list. “Okay! Next we have… Mr. Carter.”

Peggy turned around in her chair and locked eyes with me. Her smile wasn’t just excitement. It was encouragement. A silent You can do this.

My chest tightened as I stood, smoothing the front of my suit jacket with sweaty hands. The room stared at me with pure, unfiltered child curiosity. No judgment yet. Just curious attention like they were hoping I might be someone I’m not.

I walked to the front of the classroom, facing a row of small faces that believed adults were all responsible, stable people with their shit together. And I realized, with sudden clarity, that I had no idea what to say.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

Awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched. The kind that crawls across your skin and whispers everyone is watching you screw this up.

I cleared my throat and glanced at Dr. Ramirez. He studied me like he was trying to place how he knew me from his emergency room.

“Uh. Hi, kids.”

A few of them waved like I was a minor celebrity. Someone whispered something and giggled.

“My name is Skip Carter. I’m Peggy’s dad.”

Peggy sat up straighter at that. Pride radiated off her like a heat lamp.

“I, uh… I used to be in the military.” That part was safe and true. Technically documented despite the dishonorable discharge. “And now I work in… private security.”

That sounded boring enough to pass. Mrs. Fuller nodded approvingly.

Jayden, the dog lover, raised his hand immediately. “Do you protect people?”

Every instinct screamed at me to lie. To say yes. To let that be the end of it. Protecting people was clean. Simple. Noble.

Instead, honesty slipped out like a bad habit.

“Not really,” I said.

Jayden frowned with confusion. “So then what do you do?”

I choked a little. “I… help make sure certain situations go the way they’re supposed to.”

That felt vague enough to dodge the truth while still being technically accurate. I had spent years perfecting that skill.

A girl with neat, black braids and a pink sweater raised her hand. “Do you stop bad guys?”

“No,” I said, and immediately regretted it. “I mean, sometimes other people stop them.”

She also frowned like I’d just told her Santa wasn’t real.

Another hand shot up. “Do you stop burglars from stealing stuff?”

I shook my head. “No.”

The kids started exchanging confused looks. The magic was leaking out of the room.

From the back, a voice cut through the air. “My mom says he’s a henchman.”

Some of the kids immediately giggled.

I looked toward the sound. It was Billy from next door. He was wearing a Captain Justice T-shirt and a smug expression. The kind of kid who repeated adult conversations without understanding why they hurt.

Peggy whipped around in her seat. “Shut up, Billy!”

Mrs. Fuller stepped forward. “Billy, that’s not appropriate–”

Billy wasn’t done. “She says henchmen work for supervillains and help them hurt people.”

Every pair of eyes swung back to me.

I felt heat crawl up my neck, into my face. The suit suddenly felt too tight.

Peggy stood up in her seat. “My dad knows all the superheroes!”

That part was technically true. Unfortunately.

Billy smirked. “Then does he know Captain Justice?”

I exhaled slowly. “Yeah,” I said. “I know Captain Justice.”

Billy’s eyes lit up. “Is he awesome in real life?”

I thought about Captain Justice and all the times he had knocked out my friends. About him swooping in to stop us even when the jobs were small. About the time he punched a henchman who was injured and trying to surrender.

“He’s kind of a blowhard,” I said.

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

J. Von Swan is the award-winning author of the Wolf of Vanaheim series. He retired from law enforcement as a Sergeant in 2024 after the birth of his first daughter. During his career, he served on both the SWAT team and the mental health unit, experiences that now influence his writing and dark sense of humor. He now writes full-time and instructs law enforcement part-time at the community college.

J. Von Swan lives in Colorado with his family, where he spends his time enjoying the outdoors and imagining dragons that still need slaying.

Connect:

https://www.jvonswan.com/

https://www.instagram.com/jvonswan/

https://www.facebook.com/JVonSwan/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/57371880.J_Von_Swan

Skip Carter: Henchman for Hire Blitz

Spotlight: Nomad by Cynthia Johnstone

For readers of Barbara Kingsolver and Mary Lawson, a literary novel, set in the desert wilderness of modern-day Arizona, that offers quiet beauty, emotional depth, and an exploration of loss, healing, and the wild places that change us.

After the sudden death of her brother, Corey retreats to a remote ranch in Sedona, Arizona, hoping the silence of the desert can drown out the noise of her grief. But the quiet only deepens her isolation—until a mysterious stray dog appears, pulling her back into the world and forcing her to face what she’s been running from.

Set against the stunning red rock canyons, Nomad is a lyrical, emotionally charged debut about trauma, resilience, and the wild grit it takes to heal. As Corey grapples with loss and the ghosts of her past, she’s drawn into unexpected relationships that challenge her guarded heart and crack open the possibility of love.

For readers of Prodigal Summer and A Town Called Solace, this is the story of one woman’s return to herself through the rhythms of nature, the ache of memory, and the quiet, untamed beauty of connection. It’s a tender, tough meditation on the raw path to healing—and the fierce, fragile hope that blooms in its wake.

Buy on Amazon

About the Author

CYNTHIA JOHNSTONE is a former pediatric therapist and longtime writer whose work explores the intersection of human resilience and the natural world. With a background in psychology and communication, she writes fiction rooted in emotionally complex characters and landscapes that test, shape, and heal the human spirit. Her debut novel, “Nomad,” reflects her enduring fascination with grief, memory, survival, and the restorative power of place. She holds degrees from Loyola University Chicago and Boston College. Cynthia lives with her family in Arizona, where the dramatic terrain of the Southwest continues to inspire her. Learn more about Cynthia and her work at: www.cynthia-johnstone.com and on Instagram: @cynthia_johnstone

Spotlight: Mother May I by Harry Hunsicker

She lost everything. Except the will to fight. 

When former CIA operative Meg Dalton finds a shocking clue that suggests her long-missing daughter might still be alive, she's forced into a desperate, high-stakes search for the truth. Fifteen years after little Ivy vanished without a trace at a Texas fair, Meg has built a career as a covert "operator" a soldier-for-hire who takes on dangerous black ops missions for the government.

But during a botched assignment in Los Angeles, Meg encounters a woman wearing her daughter's distinctive butterfly necklace, and everything she believes unravels. As Meg defies her handlers and goes rogue to chase the lead, she's thrust into a deadly conspiracy linking global espionage, human trafficking, and her own past sins.

Hunted by both her employers and foreign agents, Meg must decide how far she's willing to go and what lines she'll cross to uncover the truth and reclaim her child. Mother May I is a gripping, emotionally charged thriller about loss, obsession, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her daughter.

Excerpt

Fifteen Years Ago 

You’d think a mother’s intuition would count for something—a hunch, if nothing else. A vague feeling that the events unfolding that day were amiss.

But no. There was none of that. 

There was only a beautiful fall afternoon and the two of us together—my daughter, Ivy, and me. Happy in the moment. 

Same as it ever was. Us against the world. 

To say I loved her—to say only that—was a failure of words. 

All the writers who ever lived couldn’t properly express how I felt about my child. Not the ones I studied in Mrs. Novotny’s AP English class, nor those I’d never even heard of. 

Ivy clutched my hand. She had just turned three, and this was her first time at the fair. 

”It’s so loud, Mommy.” She looked up at me and smiled, squeezing my fingers.

I grinned back at her, remembering my first time at the fair. I was about her age, walking beside my father. The Dashing lights, the noise, the smells—so much happening all at once. 

I held tightly to her hand as we wove through the throngs of people. Fe passed the petting Roo, the ring toss, the shooting gallery—carnies calling out to us as we walked by their booths. 

I was eighteen, and I’d been coming to this fair my whole life. It was the biggest thing to happen in our little town—an event that drew people from all over the county and beyond, even from as far as Austin and San Antonio. 

The crowd thickened as we neared the tent where the polka band played. People jostled us, so I hoisted Ivy onto my hip. 

She looped an arm around my neck. Her skin smelled like shampoo and fresh milk. The necklace she always wore—a tiny silver butterfly with ruby red eyes—glinted in the sun. 

”Don’t let me go, Mommy.” 

”I won’t, baby.”  I kissed her forehead. ”You and me. Always-always.”

 She pressed her face into my neck. ”Always-always, Mommy.” 

The Ferris wheel loomed ahead, not far beyond the tent. That’s where we were headed—to meet Ivy’s father, Rusty. 

He and I weren’t together. Or not together anymore, but it’s not like we were ever a real couple. Sometimes I wished we had been. Other times, not so much. Me and Ivy—we did pretty well on our own.

 ”Daddy’s by the rides,” I said. ”We’re almost there.”

I was a senior in high school. Rusty had just turned nineteen, graduated last May. He’d been first-string for the football team all four years—running back. There had been talk of college scholarships, but he’d hurt his knee senior year and started hanging out with his uncle, a pot dealer. Now, he worked at the feed store, wrangling sacks of deer corn and fertilizer bags.

”Can we go on the ferris wheel, Mommy?” 

 ”We sure can,” I said. ”Just as soon as we find your dad.”

 That is, if he brought money, I thought. 

Ivy and I lived with my grandmother. Her Social Security had run out this month before I could pay the electric bill at the trailer, so cash was tight. 

Two men drinking beer brushed past on their way to the tent, nearly bumping into us. 

I hugged Ivy close. We should have come earlier. Too many drunks later in the day. 

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Harry Hunsicker is the best-selling author of ten crime thrillers and numerous short stories, including The Life and Death of Rose Doucette, shortlisted for a 2025 ITW Thriller Award, and Still River, his debut, which was nominated for a Shamus Award. Hunsicker splits his time between Dallas, Texas and Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Spotlight: Day by Day: There is Always a Little Bit More by James Robertson

Early reviewers, family friends, and medical professionals have called James Robertson’s memoir, Day by Day: There is Always a Little Bit More everything from “gut-wrenching” to “beautiful and touching.” These comments encapsulate the more than forty years of caring for their special needs son, Graham, who is not just James and his wife, Kari’s, eldest child, but also a beloved brother, uncle, and friend, who has never been defined by his disability, a rare form of epilepsy called Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome. The story is mostly told from a father’s perspective but also includes chapters from immediate family members, and a life-long special friend who helped Graham tell his side of the story too. The raw, vulnerable, and often difficult to read intensity of this story is intentional but the author’s hope is to encourage other families struggling with the challenges of supporting a loved one with special needs—from navigating an under resourced medical system to finding much needed and often elusive programs and dwindling government funding— to reach out for support and also to know that they are not alone.  

Excerpt

April 29, 1985

Graham climbed up in the dentist chair. The light overhead was adjusted slightly to meet his pearly whites. “Open wide, please, Graham,” Dr. Frank instructed his almost four-year-old patient. Dr. Frank was a man of large stature; when in his presence, you knew you were in good hands. Dr. Frank’s big hand, having just adjusted the overhead light and now holding a dental instrument, approached as gently as a summer breeze . . . then stopped. “Graham, what is wrong?” His thick Hungarian accent filled the room. Sitting to Graham’s left, I observed Graham’s hand reaching skyward as though in search of comfort. But Dr. Frank’s tone told me this was not the case. He was leaning over the chair with his hands touching Graham’s shoulders and his eyes fixed on Graham’s face for what was a mere second or two, but it felt like time had stood still.

Rising from my stool and rounding the tilted chair, I found my son in the midst of a grand mal seizure. In the moment, I had no idea what was happening. His body was stiff, lifeless, and grey. I froze. Fortunately, Dr. Frank took charge. He scooped Graham up in his arms, held him against his six-foot-plus height, and asked his receptionist to call the hospital. Both of us, him still holding Graham, sprinted down the hall to the elevator.

I hardly noticed the pouring rain soaking me as my pound- ing chest propelled me one foot in front of the other, rushing to get my car and bring it to the front door. Dr. Frank climbed into the back seat, cradling Graham in his arms. “I think his colour is getting better,” I remember him saying. I glanced in the rear- view mirror. I saw no difference. My hand leaned on the horn, but no one acknowledged my panic by moving out of the way. We didn’t have far to go, and even though I was in a panic, I watched my speed. Back in those days the emergency department at the children’s hospital had parking available immediately beside the entry, a blessing. We entered the emergency department, where Graham was handed to a waiting nurse, who quickly administered oxygen while at the same time asking Dr. Frank if he needed the same. I was naive enough to not appreciate fully what had hap- pened. Dr. Frank, however, was alarmed by the fact that one of his patients was in such a state. I didn’t even notice Dr. Frank leaving, presumably returning to his office.

My thoughts turned to Kari. I had to call her; she needed to be here. What should I tell her? How should I tell her? The phone rang and she answered. My words spilled out and the panic returned. It seemed as if only seconds later, Kari bounded through the swinging doors. We lived only a few blocks from the Isaak Walton Killam Hospital for Children, a blessing we appreciated for years to come. The IWK provides a high level of specialized care and is the only pediatric hospital in the Atlantic Provinces that provides neurology services for children. By this time Graham was coming around and responsive. The suggested diagnosis was a fainting spell; however, a neurologist was summoned and we waited for his diagnosis. 

Buy on Amazon | Bookshop.org

About the Author

James Robertson was born into an “old Halifax family”, his ancestors having built a local hardware business in the mid-1800s—Wm. Robertson & Son Ship Chandlery (now the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic)—on the waterfront in downtown historic Halifax. 

James grew up in the south end of the city and was educated in both private and public schools: Halifax Ladies College (for kindergarten), Gorsebrook School, Queen Elizabeth High School, and then Dalhousie University (BComm, 1977).

During his professional career he held roles in accounting, sales, and customer service. Throughout his life he has always been active in the community through his church (Fort Massey United, Bedford United), the Epilepsy Association of the Maritimes, Scouts Canada, Special Olympics, Club Inclusion, and the Alliance of Information and Referral Services (AIRS). 

James is the recipient of the Provincial Volunteer of the Year Award; the Canada 125 Medal; and the Queen Elizabeth II Golden Jubilee Medal. He and his wife, Kari, received the Cassidy Megan Award from the Epilepsy Association of the Maritimes in 2022, and in 2025, he received the William S. Fong Volunteer Award, presented by Fort Massey United Church. He has been married for forty-seven years to Kari, and they have three children and six grandchildren.