Publication date: October 3rd 2023

Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance, Women’s Fiction

Synopsis:

Family.

They’re always meddling in your love life

Even after they’re dead.

Brooklynite-and genealogist-Ingrid Ekstrom accepts a surprise request from her typically estranged family: to become the live-in caretaker of their shared historic house in the sleepy Jersey Shore town of Aegir Haven. A fun-loving cousin is quick to introduce Ingrid to the local handyman and bluegrass musician. As he fixes up the place, Ingrid digs into the house’s past and learns about the family she barely knows.

And then Mormor-her long-dead grandmother-shows up, acting as though not being in the spirit realm is perfectly normal.

Ingrid’s always yearned for stronger family connections, and it’s nice having Mormor around. Mormor tries to set her up with a young real estate attorney who’s closer to her more thunderous, god-like personal standards than the musician with keen senses Ingrid is falling for. As lore and legends mingle with real life, she’s torn. Mormor’s fantastical family sagas can’t actually be true, right?

Excerpt

Kurt comes darting around Cas and Svea, kicking sand behind him with each pounding foot. I turn my head and raise my arm to block the sand spraying up in the air from his knee slide to the blanket. My eyes steady on Yale dragging a stumbling Erik lot and taking his keys. Good. Two less people to worry about.

“Hey, you good?” Kurt asks.

The mess that is Erik is ejected from the beach and taken out to the parking lot. Yale shoves him into a cab. I turn back to Kurt and find his face a few inches from my own. My cheeks warm as I feel his gaze on my cheek. I lean back on my hands, creating a little extra space.

“Yeah, he didn’t bite me.” Thank goodness.

“You are being a little too nice about this,” Kurt says. “Anyway, Yale sent Erik home to sober up. He can be a real dick.”

“Oh good, this wasn’t special for me.” I rub my hand across my forearm and watch his eyes absorb the stars. “He was almost normal at Svea’s.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and takes a cloth from his pocket. He waits for the water to rush up to the edge of the boundary line to dampen the linen handkerchief. With the gentlest of touches, he dabs the salty water on my cheek to further scrub off Erik’s DNA.

“Thanks. Aren’t you guys supposed to be playing?” I take the handkerchief and scrub harder at my cheek.

“A friend needed help,” he says. “And another one looked upset.”

“You are friends with Erik?” Dumbfounded doesn’t even begin to properly express my inability to comprehend a friendship between these two.

He shrugs and sits on the sand next to the blanket.

A quick look around reveals Svea waving her fingers at me with a big grin while Cas wraps his arms around her. The two turn and look out at the ocean.

Kurt gestures to the cloth. “Can I sit on the blanket?”

“Absolutely, but we may need to move back.” The edge of a wave graces our toes.

“Nah, we’ve got plenty of time till the tide gets higher.” He’s quite sure of himself. The heat from his bare arm radiates through my sweatshirt while he repositions his legs in the sand.

“This is nice,” he says. “Nice to actually sit and enjoy instead of entertain.”

His presence is a little too comforting. After the last blanket visitor, I should keep my guard up, but he’s so gentle and warm. The strong wind smacks at my damp face, and I shiver.

“How rude of me,” he says, removing the sweatshirt from his shoulders. “Take this. You can layer it.”

He loops the sweatshirt up over my back and hesitates for a second. I inadvertently lock eyes with him. I should look away. His gaze makes me want to make good-bad decisions, and the flecks of rainbow within them seem to make time stand still.

He leans forward and pulls the sweatshirt higher on my shoulders. His cheek graces mine, and he hesitates. His hot breath sends warm tingles across my chest and down my arms, while a petulant curl falls to the front of his forehead from beneath his bowler cap. A gentle lean forward would contribute the last ten percent needed to test how soft his lips are. A tiny lean—but if I’m reading this moment wrong, I’m no different from Erik.

A gust of wind rushes between us, blowing his cap backward. He hugs his sweatshirt against my back to keep it from flying away. I peek through flying sand to the bar where cups and bottles fly across the beach. A giant wave, much too high for a gentle entrance of the tide change, crashes over our bodies, forcing us apart. The water recedes, along with all the feelings of heat or any type of imagined chemistry that was brewing. The cold air pushes through my drenched clothes, and my teeth chatter. A smaller wave comes forward and slaps at only my feet.

“Man, what was that?” Kurt yells against the wind. “Someone’s mad.” He gestures out to the sea.

I sit up and pull bits of seaweed off my soaking wet jeans. Kurt reaches across to my head and pulls off more flecks of what I really hope is seaweed or sand. Between laughing so hard and the sharp sting of the blowing salt, I shed tears.

Svea stands over me and blocks the path to the stars. In the scheme of unfair—I am a haggard, shivering wet mess and she has not a drop of water on her.

“How did that even happen?” She drapes a spare blanket over my numb shoulders. “Do you want some water?”

I glare at her.

“The drinking kind,” she says, unable to stifle her laughter.

“Stronger. I need a stronger drink than water.” Kurt spits sand from his mouth back onto the beach.

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About the Author

Beck Erixson writes about the beautifully awkward world of navigating the journey to true happiness through friendships, love, and family—be it blood, found, or chosen. Her stories enhance the importance of positive interconnection, even when we feel lonely. She lives on the Jersey Shore, and can often be found either writing by the river, or in it in some way. Her short stories have appeared in Many Nice Donkeys, and Full Mood Mag.

Connect:
https://beckerixson.com/
https://twitter.com/berixson
https://www.instagram.com/beckerixsonauthor/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/34934710.Beck_Erixson

(Love is Awkward)

Publication date: August 1st 2023

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Elin Axelsson is unmistakably the worst goalie in her women’s indoor soccer league. Yet each week, she laces up her cleats, pumps up her teammates, and gives it her all. At least playing soccer means being able to spend more time with her all-star goalie boyfriend, Nate. And her best friend of fifteen years—who’s a total ladies’ man—Hawk.

But when Elin catches Nate cheating, she dumps his ass, and finds herself thrust back into the weird world of online dating. At least she has Hawk to lean on. He has a new woman every week, and is a dating expert. But after a few awkward first dates with other people, Elin starts noticing Hawk in a different light. Except, that can’t happen. She can’t risk losing him, or their fifteen-year friendship if things go sour.

That is, until they manage to fall tongue-first into each other’s mouths. The two form a pact to prevent diving hormones-first into more bad relationships. They’ll hook up with each other, and compartmentalize their friendship. But there are rules: Elin sets the pace, no sex with others while the pact is in effect, and if either develop romantic feelings for the other, they must bail out to protect the friendship. It’s the perfect arrangement!

Until it isn’t.

Excerpt

Our gazes split as I pretend to stretch my neck, crinkling the melting bag of ice, and severing a replay of the moment at the fire pit we both refuse to acknowledge.

He leans in, and a tiny giggle flutters up my chest and out through my lips.

“What?” He asks, pulling his torso back, his voice squeaking high. “Does my breath smell?” Furrowing his brow, he huffs into his palm. With a deep sniff, he shakes his head.

I swallow down a larger chuckle. He looks over my shoulder as he bites his lower lip. Do what happened the other night. It’s simple.

I cough to cover another laugh and clear my throat. “Let’s try again.”

Hawk crosses his arms and tilts his head like a confused puppy. “Are you going to laugh at me again?”

I shake my head. “No?” Maybe.

“Well, that’s so convincing.” His voice hits a puberty high crack. “It’s only me.”

I nod and take in a deep breath. It’s only me? Does he realize what that even means? There is no one I trust more than him. Despite that, this is still new territory. There’s this tiny nag in me throwing up blocks, worried about being tossed aside when he’s bored of me.

My lips part and hover close enough to feel the gentle exhale of air from his mouth. I peek open an eye to find he’s staring back at me. Another obnoxiously loud laugh erupts from my mouth, and a pang of worry seizes my heart.

I suck in my lips and bite down as I open my eyes. Well, crap. He looks so … confused?

“You’re not okay with this, are you?” He scratches at his cheek and glances down.

The bag of ice drips on my shirt and ceases the trembling tickle in my chest. “It’s not that. It’s every time I see your face I laugh.”

“I’m that horrible looking to you?” His tone suggests a joke, but one drenched in a heavy ouch.

“Shut up. You know you aren’t ugly.” I shake my head.

“True. I’m in the realm of hideous.” He flashes a wide grin and runs his tongue over his lips. “Would a bag over my head with lip holes help?”

“You. Are. Ridiculous.”

He covers his face with wide fingers. “Better?”

“Stop making fun.”

All I want to do is see if the fire pit was a fluke, and forget all the other nonsense. Instead, I can’t stop giggling like I’ve never been with someone before. I lean in, kiss the back of his hand, and lean back.

“Oh, baby.” He rolls his eyes back, pulls his hands down his cheeks, and lets out a groan.

“This. This is why it’s weird.” A full belly laugh pulls through, filling the air. “You’re, you.” Knowing it’s him kissing me is different from seeing him kiss me. When the structured lines of his face get close, my nerves flare a warning and a protective shyness takes over.

“Wildflower, I only want to kiss you. I need to kiss you.” His hands land at his sides with an exaggerated smack and his tone shifts to serious. “Do you actually want to do this?”

The way he says “Wildflower” melts me. I nod repeatedly and pout my bottom lip. My chest holds the tingles, the desire, the pull to him. “I don’t know what’s happening. It’s like each time we get near, one of our magnets flips over, shooting us far apart.”

“Oh. Talk dirty to me with science. Two poles of a magnet repelling.” He leans back and gives an approving nod.

The issue isn’t the repelling, it’s the pull. The thing I’m stuck on from the night we kissed is, he kissed me. He scrambled the natural balance of our friendship, messing with the normally clear division line. We crossed into the unknown and he was burned. Literally. I don’t want to get burned or set our friendship ablaze in a grand bonfire. And yet, I want to be kissed—by him. None of this is logical.

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About the Author