SoundMaster Romance

Guitars and Cadillacs

A love story from the heart of country music - from the Soundmaster Romance Series

Get ready to take a journey into the heart of Nashville with Guitars & Cadillacs, the first book in the SoundMaster series, a collection of contemporary Country Music themed romance novels. Follow the story of Reanne Parker, a radio announcer who falls in love with country music superstar Colton Wright, only to find that dating a public icon comes with its own set of challenges. From Colton's ex-wife and a ten-year-old mystery to adoring fans and the pressures of the music industry, Reanne and Colton must navigate the twists and turns of their relationship while keeping their voices strong for the biggest duet of their careers. But will their pasts catch up with them and jeopardize everything they've worked for?
This light and fun read offers a glimpse into the glamorous and gritty world of country music, and explores the complexities of dating a superstar with skeletons in his closet. With themes of love, trust, and forgiveness, Guitars & Cadillacs is perfect for fans of both romance novels and country music. You won't want to miss this captivating tale of love, music, and redemption, from the heart of Nashville to the beaches of Honolulu.

Available now, on Amazon

Find the ebook on Amazon

*****

Foolish Pride

A love story from the heart of country music - Book two in the SoundMaster Romance Series

He's a rockstar drowning in fame, she's an heiress longing for freedom. Nashville's music scene promises escape, but can they outrun their pasts?
Victoria Masters: Glittering diamonds adorn her wrists, but they clink with hollowness. New York's boardrooms hold no solace, the boardroom becomes a suffocating cage. Nashville's whispers of steel guitars and sweet love songs lure her like a siren song.
Calder McKnight: The roar of crowds, the flash of stage lights, once fueled his soul. Now, his platinum records feel like shackles. Yearning for the joy his music used to bring him, he seeks refuge in Music City.
Two worlds collide. A chance encounter, a spark ignited. With impulsive hearts and borrowed names, they plunge into Nashville's vibrant scene. Can they build a new life on borrowed identities, fueled by the magic of country music and the intoxicating whispers of "forever"?
Shadows of the past linger. Calder's rockstar past, and another relationship he’d just as soon forget, claw at the fragile peace he's found. Has he left that life behind the for good?
And does Victoria's father, a powerful man of steel, money and ambition, wield the power to drag her back into her gilded cage?
Will the city's charm and the sweet rhythm of a country song, be enough to hold them together? Or will their dreams, spun from moonlight and melody, unravel at the crossroads of truth?
Dive into a world where secrets whisper, choices echo, and redemption dances on every note. Discover if love can find its harmony in the chaos, if Nashville's melody can drown out the noise of their pasts.
Unleash the secrets, confront the choices, and find out if Nashville’s neon lights can drown out the echoes of broken dreams and lurking shadows.

Available now, on Amazon

Find the ebook on Amazon

*****

The Absolute Madness of Naming Characters

Let’s talk about one of the most ridiculous struggles of writing a book. No, I’m not talking about the part where you stare at the blinking cursor like it personally insulted your ancestors. I’m talking about naming characters. It should be easy, right? Just slap a name on them and move on? Oh, my sweet summer child. If only. See, naming a character is like naming your kid—except worse, because nobody is going to complain if your kid and their cousin both end up being named Liam. But if your main villain is named Liam and you accidentally give the quirky coffee shop owner in book three the same name? Cue the existential crisis. Let’s walk through the madness. The Overthinking Spiral of Doom You start writing, and there’s that moment: your brand-new character walks onto the page, full of potential. All they need is a name. A simple name. Something strong, something fitting, something— Oh no. Nothing sounds right. This one is too complicated. That one is too simple. ...

A Labour-Free Labour Day? Yes, Please!

Hello and Happy Labour Day to all my lovely North American readers! Now, isn’t it just a little bit ironic that a holiday with the word labour baked right into the name is universally observed by doing absolutely none of it? Zero. Zilch. Unless, of course, you count the rigorous work of flipping burgers, casting fishing lines, and chasing wasps away from the potato salad. Then yes—we are a nation of highly skilled, recreational labourers. Olympic-level loungers, really. This year, I’m wholeheartedly leaning into the contradiction. After an exceptionally busy summer filled with writing deadlines, creative misadventures, and one unfortunate incident involving a Papillon, a pie, and a squirrel (don’t ask—Pixie is still refusing to discuss it), I’m embracing the art of not doing much at all. My Labour Day weekend plans include: Reclining in my favourite chair like a dramatic Victorian heroine recovering from a fainting spell. Watching the endless activity in the harbour just outs...

The Art of a Well-Timed Swear

There comes a moment in life when frustration bubbles over, and the only logical response is… well, a good, solid, soul-cleansing swear word. I’m not talking about casual, everyday muttering under your breath. No, I mean that moment when nothing else will do. The kind of moment where dropping your toast butter-side down feels like an act of war, where technology conspires against you, or when you stub your toe so hard you briefly see your ancestors. Now, I was raised in a house where we had a rule: Use your words, not you hands. This was my dad’s way of preventing sibling-induced concussions, and frankly, it worked. We weren’t an inherently violent bunch, but three kids in one tiny household meant tempers flared, and so did elbows. The logic was simple—if you had time to yell, maybe you’d have time to think twice before swinging. Or at least give your victim a solid head start. This philosophy stayed with me, though in adulthood, I’ve adapted it to use a well-placed expletive now a...

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