Sourcebooks Casablanca Romance Authors

By Robin Kaye I love Chocolate, coffee, and my husband not necessarily in that order. I love coffee in the same way I love air—I need it to live, but I can enjoy it—who doesn’t love the first whiff of the ocean when they’re headed to the beach, or that scent of home after a long trip? Coffee for me is necessary for life but also something I look forward to every morning, afternoon, and most nights too. Loving my husband is easy because like most men, what you see is what you get. The morning he proposed, he didn’t have a ring, a speech, or, it seemed, a plan. He just looked over and said, “So, you want to get married?” We’d only been dating four months; I think his proposal was as much a shock to him as it was to me. After I said, yes, he went right out (without my knowledge, mind you) and sold his motorcycle, his most prized possession, to buy me a ring. He might not be the hearts and flowers type, but with him, I never wonder if I’m loved. Over the years, he’s given up much more than...

By Robin Kaye When I was a kid, I did a lot of skiing—my family had a place in Sun Valley, Idaho and we’d usually spend three weeks a year there skiing. Like most other skiers, every night before I went to bed wearing my pajamas inside out and backward—a signal to the snow gods that I was ready for fresh powder—I’d pray for snow. I prayed, not only because the skiing on fresh powder would be great, no, I had another reason—I longed to ski virgin snow. I’d wake up extra early after a snow and arrive on the mountain well before the lifts opened with a backpack full of bribes for the lift operators—warm scones and hot coffee worked the best. They’d be bundled up against the early morning chill, sweeping the snow from the chair lifts and sometimes, if I got very lucky, they’d let me ride up before the mountain officially opened so I could be the first skier down. There’s nothing like skiing virgin snow—the only sound you hear is the wind whispering through the trees, the swish of your own ...

By Robin Kaye How Would You Like A Copy of Wild Thing Under Your Tree? I walked into Humpin’ Hannah’s—my favorite bar in Boise and scanned the room. My eyes landed on Hunter Kincaid, tall, dark, handsome, and quiet—he might as well have had a do-not-disturb sign tattooed on his forehead. It was a good thing I rarely follow directions. I strode over to him and took the stool beside his. “Hi, Hunter.” He turned toward me, “Hi. Do I know you?” “No, but I know you. How’s it going?” He gave me that patented confused look most of my characters wear the first time I meet them in person. He had no clue as to who I was, and from the looks flying across his face, I could tell he considered yet decided against being rude and ignoring me. “Good. How ‘bout you?” He waved over the bartender who was also his sister. “Karma, get my friend here a drink, will you?” Karma’s eyebrow rose. “Friend?” She pushed her blonde, curly hair off her shoulders and gave me a once-over. “Robin Kaye,” I said as I set ...

By Robin Kaye Available for preorder, coming December, 2011! Whitewater-rafting guide Hunter Kincaid lands his dream job–guiding sportswear models through Idaho's rugged wilderness for a photo shoot. When he meets Toni Russo, the goth New York manager of Action Models, there are enough sparks to set the forest ablaze. When Hunter finds Toni's book on how to marry the man of your choice, he studies it as a joke. Before long Hunter realizes he's never cared enough for a woman to bother working this hard to get her. But the last man in the world this city girl wants is a Survivor Man wannabe... Here's a little teaser, if you want to read the rest of chapter one, stop by my website Wild Thing - Book one of Domestic Gods Gone Wild... Toni Russo stood on the porch of the Sawtooth Inn ignoring the mountains cutting the bright blue sky, concentrating instead on Hunter Kincaid’s very confused, very green ey...