The Art of the Comeback: Second Chances in Life and Love – #NewRelease #FirefighterRomance

By Ella Braeme (Guest Blogger)

Sometimes the best chapters of our lives begin with "Once upon a time, I tried again."

Nine years ago, Becks Schwartz walked away from everything—her job, her city, and the man she thought she'd marry—after a betrayal that shattered her trust. Fast-forward to today, and she's a successful fire captain starting fresh in a new town, armed with hard-won wisdom and unshakable confidence. Her story, which I explore in my latest novel Rekindled Flame, mirrors what many of us face: the daunting but ultimately transformative art of the comeback.

Whether it's rebuilding after a career setback, healing from a broken relationship, or simply mustering the courage to try again after failure, second chances aren't just plot devices—they're essential life skills.

Why Second Chances Are Actually First Chances

Here's what I've learned from writing about second-chance romance and watching real people rebuild their lives: most "second chances" are actually first chances at getting it right.

When Becks reunites with Shawn in Elken Grove, they're not picking up where they left off—they're starting completely new. They're different people with different priorities and understanding of what healthy love looks like. Their first relationship was built on who they were at twenty-five; their second is built on who they became at thirty-five.

This applies beyond romance. That "second chance" at your career isn't about returning to your old job—it's about bringing your evolved skills to new opportunities. The friendship you're rebuilding isn't a restoration project—it's a fresh foundation built with better materials.

The Compound Interest of Personal Growth

Perhaps the most encouraging aspect of second chances is that all the work you've done on yourself pays dividends. Every therapy session, every book about communication, every difficult conversation you've navigated, every boundary you've learned to set—none of it is wasted.

When Becks faces professional sabotage in her new job, she doesn't crumble the way she might have years earlier. She draws on her accumulated strength and improved communication skills. The woman who once walked away rather than fight for what she wanted now stands her ground with confidence and strategy.

Your comeback gets to benefit from everything you've learned. Your resilience is stronger, your judgment is clearer, and your ability to navigate challenges is more sophisticated.

Starting Where You Are

The most daunting aspect of any comeback can be the gap between where you are and where you want to be. But every successful second chance starts with a simple decision: I'm willing to try again, starting from exactly where I am right now.

You don't need to have it all figured out. You don't need to be completely healed. You don't need guarantees. You just need to be willing to take the next right step, then the one after that.

Whether your comeback is about love, career, health, or dreams you thought you'd lost, remember: you're not the same person who faced that setback. You're stronger, wiser, and more equipped to handle whatever comes next.

The art of the comeback isn't about perfection—it's about persistence, wisdom, and the revolutionary act of believing you deserve another chance at happiness.

Sometimes the most beautiful chapters of our lives begin with the words "I decided to try again."

What's your comeback story going to be?

Blurb

When old flames reignite, sparks fly.

Volunteer firefighter Shawn Miller thought he had his life figured out in small-town Elken Grove. His print shop pays the bills while his real passion—fighting fires—keeps him connected to the community he loves.

Then his new Captain walks through the station doors: Rebecca "Becks" Schwartz, the woman who walked out of his life nine years ago. Now she's his superior officer, and someone in the department is determined to drive her away—or worse.

As danger closes in, Shawn must balance protecting Becks with respecting her authority. But when sparks fly hotter than ever between them, he realizes some flames aren't meant to be extinguished—they're meant to be stoked.

Get REKINDLED FLAME today and feel the heat of this slow-burn second chance romance!

Book Links

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/rekindled-flame

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FD87RMRW

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/236532005-rekindled-flame

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/rekindled-flame-a-second-chance-firefighter-romance-burning-hearts-book-1-by-ella-braeme

Website: https://ellabraeme.com/2025/08/17/rekindled-flame-a-second-chance-firefighter-romance/

Book Details

Book 1 in the Burning Hearts series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FD87RMRV

Publication Date: September 3, 2025

37,000 words / 137 pages

Available in Kindle Unlimited and as paperback

Perfect for fans of Susan Stoker and Zoe York.

Excerpt

Later, she couldn’t say who moved first. Only that somehow the space between them vanished, and his lips were on hers, or hers on his—a kiss born of shared danger, old memories, and new respect. His hands found her waist, steadying her as she leaned into him, allowing herself this one moment of abandon.

It was both familiar and entirely new. The Shawn she’d kissed nine years ago had been a young man, passionate but untested. This Shawn kissed her with a quiet assurance, a depth of emotion that made her knees weaken.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, reality came crashing back. She was his captain. Someone was targeting her. And their past remained largely unresolved.

“I shouldn’t have—” he started.

“We can’t—” she said simultaneously.

They stared at each other, mutual regret and longing creating an almost unbearable tension.

“This complicates things,” she whispered.

“It was already complicated,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in that familiar gesture she remembered from years ago.

Becks stepped back, creating necessary distance. “Someone sabotaged my turnouts, Shawn. That tear in my jacket—if we’d been called to a fire instead of an accident...”

“I know.” His expression darkened. “We’ll figure out who’s behind this.”

“And this—” she gestured between them, “—whatever this is, it has to wait.”

He nodded, though the reluctance was clear in his eyes. “I’ll follow you home, make sure you get there safely. After that... professional distance.”

“Professional distance,” she echoed, though the lingering taste of him made a mockery of the words.

As she drove home with Shawn’s truck visible in her rearview mirror, Becks touched her lips, still sensitive from his kiss. Whatever was developing between them would have to be shelved until the threat was neutralized and they’d properly addressed their complicated past.

She’d broken her cardinal rule tonight. The one she’d established after Charlotte: never let personal feelings cloud professional judgment. Never give anyone ammunition to suggest you got where you are through anything but merit. And never, ever, let a man make you feel like you need saving. Yet here she was, lips still tingling from kissing her volunteer firefighter, grateful for his protective presence behind her. Everything she’d sworn she’d never do again.

About the Author

Ella Braeme writes steamy small-town romance featuring protective heroes and strong heroines who find love in the mountains of Georgia. When she's not crafting stories about couples falling headlong into danger and love, she's in her garden with her hole-digging supervisor dog. Her quick, satisfying reads are perfect for readers who love their romance with heat, heart, and happily-ever-after.

Content Warnings

I believe every reader deserves to make informed choices about the books they read. While my stories always end with happily-ever-afters and are mostly comfort reads, some contain elements that may be difficult for certain readers. If any of these subjects bother you, I kindly ask you to pick another book.

This book contains scenes involving attempted murder, workplace sabotage, a vehicle accident with injury, temporary medical paralysis, and workplace discrimination. All scenes resolve positively with full recovery and justice served.

Connect with Ella

Instagram: https://instagram.com/ellawritesromance

Facebook Page: https://facebook.com/ellawritesromance

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/22846173.Ella_Braeme

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ella-braeme

Sign-up to her emails and get a free novella https://ellabraeme.com/newsletter-signup.htm

Author Website: https://ellabraeme.com

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Ella-Braeme/author/B0BKL79CSM

Also by Ella Braeme

Elken Grove Mountain Men series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DPL86ZSM/

Married in Windfall series: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CBS76NN4

ARC reader signup

https://forms.gle/TLexgKCHLXFyVoo8A

 

Rendezvous in Chinatown – #EroticRomance #Multicultural #MFRWHooks

Welcome to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop! After featuring relatively recent books over the past few weeks, I thought I’d go back to my very first novel, Raw Silk. Of course, this is not the original 1999 version; the book is now in its fifth (and I presume last) edition. I have added several chapters. I’ve also sharpened the romance focus. Still, be warned: although it concludes with commitment, the story features relationships with multiple partners.

Blurb

In a foreign land, a woman discovers exotic new realms of the senses.

“You were born to this. You may not understand, yet. You may not believe. But I will teach you.”

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she embarks on a sensual journey that will change her forever.

In the glittering City of Angels, Kate becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic, dominant proprietor of a sex bar. With Anand Rajchitraprasong, she discovers her own almost unlimited capacity for erotic pleasure. Meanwhile, Gregory Marshall shows her what she has hidden from herself: a deep desire to submit, to surrender herself body and soul to someone with the power and compassion to master her.

Each lascivious adventure binds her more closely to her lovers. Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

The Hook

Kate took the bus to the restaurant. Though the place was not far from DigiThai, no more than two or three miles, it was a slow trip. The vehicle oozed through the heavy traffic. Pedestrians, tuk tuks and dare-devil motorcyclists wove their way through the snarl of cars and trucks.

She didn’t mind the pace. The bus was air-conditioned. She sat next to a window where she could watch the passing sights.

The Chinese area of Bangkok was one of the oldest parts of the city. Tucked into a bend of the Chao Phraya, it was a warren of narrow streets, flanked by crumbling three-story shop houses. Yaowarat, the main thoroughfare, was barely wide enough for two cars to pass. The traffic crept sluggishly along its length, but the sidewalks bustled with commerce.

The street was lined on both sides with jewelry stores, their bright red signs blazoned with gold lettering in English, Thai and Chinese characters. Some were closed in, protected from the heat and the dust of the road, but many had open fronts stretching a quarter of a block or more. Inside, the walls, too, were crimson. Long counters and glass cases displayed glittering contents. Customers sat on stools at the counters, bending over the glass or haggling with the proprietors.

In front of the gold shops, vendors hawked everything from fresh vegetables to movie posters. As Kate got off the bus, she took a deep breath. The air smelled different here. She caught spicy hints of anise and ginger, mixed with the normal exhaust fumes. She passed a traditional medicine shop, its murky interior lined with wooden drawers holding mysterious roots and herbs. A pale ginseng root floated in a glass bottle, its hairy extremities vaguely suggesting a human figure. The wizened, bespectacled shop owner behind the counter looked up as she paused. Flustered, she hurried on.

At the address Anand had given her, she found a narrow door framed in Chinese script. There was no English sign. The door was open, and led, she saw, to a steep, carpeted stairway. The building smelled of age, but there were also some rich food odors that she could not identify.

At the top of the stairs, she found a small antechamber made even smaller by the huge porcelain jars standing on either side of a curtained arch. She was met by an elderly Chinese man in a rusty black suit.

“Miss Katherine?” he asked, his accent making it difficult for Kate to understand him. She nodded. “Please come with me.”

He held the curtains aside for her. They entered a cavernous room, two stories high. Fans turned lazily above them, hanging from the embossed tin ceiling. Round tables were scattered around the room, but only one or two of them were occupied. None of the diners was Anand.

“This way,” said her guide, gesturing toward the back of the room. Here there were wood-paneled walls that reached halfway to the ceiling. As they came closer, she saw that these were enclosed booths made of teak or mahogany, arranged around a central corridor. Floor-length drapes of heavy brocade covered the entrances, ensuring the privacy of the occupants. Halfway down the corridor, they stopped, and the Chinese man knocked on the door post.

Anand’s voice was muffled by the curtains. “Come in,” he said, sweeping the draperies aside. “Come in, Katherine.”

The interior of the booth was furnished with brocade-cushioned benches and a table covered in white linen. It was surprisingly spacious. There was no sense of being confined. The top was open, one of the fans rotating slowly above their heads.

Anand closed the curtains and took her hands. “Thank you for coming. Please, make yourself comfortable.” She seated herself on the bench. He smiled at her delightedly. “Well? What do you think?”

She looked around her. “Interesting,” she said. “I’ve certainly never seen anything like it.”

“The Chinese conduct all important business over food,” her companion explained. “And, sometimes, discretion is important. The Three Moons restaurant has seen five generations of negotiations, deals, intrigues and coups. Not to mention illicit meetings and lovers’ rendezvous.”

Kate just smiled at his enthusiasm.

“In addition,” he continued, pouring them some tea, “the food is exceptional. I took the liberty of ordering Peking duck for us. They need twelve hours’ advance notice.”

She laughed. “You are unbelievable. It seems that all you think about is food and sex.”

“Not so,” Anand protested in mock seriousness. “I will admit those are among my primary occupations, but I am also interested in business. You have not told me yet whether you will take the position I offered you.”

“After Saturday, I will let you know. After Saturday, everything may change.”

“I know,” said Anand softly. “Still, I am looking forward to it.”

 

Find the buy links at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/rawsilkbook.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

---

Heroes, Villains, and the Stories We Tell Ourselves -- #PoliticalThriller #HistoricalFiction #Giveaway

By Babujee (Guest Blogger)

If one does a Shakespearean character analysis of the protagonist of my novel, Crimson Mirage, and looks for the ‘seed’ of his destruction, it was hero worship and role models. Manush wanted to follow the footsteps of his idols and got it horribly wrong. How can one go astray following the role models?

Let’s talk about heroes. We grow up surrounded by them—those larger-than-life figures who inspire us with their bravery, truthfulness, or incredible moral compass. As kids, we’re fed stories about these shining beacons of humanity, and we’re told to aspire to be just like them. But let’s dig a little deeper—how does this “hero culture” play out?

Take George Washington and the famous cherry tree story. You know, the one where little George confesses, “I cannot tell a lie,” after chopping down a tree? It’s a great tale, but spoiler alert: it probably never happened. The point wasn’t historical accuracy; it was about presenting truthfulness as an American ideal. The irony, of course, is that plenty of people in real life do lie. Still, the story stuck because it symbolized what Americans hoped to be.

And it’s not just the U.S. Ancient Rome had its own hero figures, like Cincinnatus, the farmer who reluctantly saved the Republic and then went back to his plow. Noble, right? But in reality, Rome was famous for politics, power struggles, and shameless self-promotion. Cultures create these stories not just to make us better people, but to justify bigger things—wars, colonization, or even just the way things are. Heroes and villains, the flip side of the heroes, become tools to explain why one country gets to invade another or why one group claims superiority.

Take the British Empire, for example. To justify looting India (then called Bharat), they dehumanized the locals, calling them “savages” or “uncivilized.” That narrative made it easier to plunder resources and call it progress. It’s an uncomfortable truth, but history is filled with examples like this.

What’s fascinating is how heroes and villains can flip depending on the perspective. George Washington, beloved American hero, was seen as a treasonous troublemaker by Britain’s King George III. It’s all about where you’re standing. Sometimes, though, the whole hero-villain thing is completely arbitrary. Remember Sophocles’ drama Antigone? The king, Kreon, declares one brother, Eteocles, a hero and the other, Polynices, a traitor. Antigone begs to give Polynices a proper burial, but Kreon refuses, only to let slip a secret: the brothers’ mangled bodies were so indistinguishable that they just divided the remains and gave one portion a hero’s funeral and left the rest to rot outside the city. Kreon himself didn’t know which body was honored or condemned. All he needed was a hero and a villain.

So, how does this play out in our lives? As children, we idolize these heroic figures, imagining ourselves brave, truthful, and noble. But as we grow up, life throws reality at us—money, power, and comfort often take precedence over ideals. If someone clings to their childhood hero worship and refuses to compromise with the real world, like our protagonist Manush, they might feel alienated. Worse, they might turn extreme in their beliefs, unwilling to let go of the purity they see in their role models.

When analyzed, many of the heroes we idolize didn’t achieve their glory through gentle means. They were violent, fought battles, spilled blood, and outmaneuvered their rivals. Could celebrating these figures plant the seeds of aggression or extremism in some? Is the relentless pursuit of “heroic” ideals driving people to unhealthy extremes?

 

It’s worth asking whether this hero-villain obsession is healthy. Sure, it gives us figures to look up to, but it also glosses over the complexity of real life. People aren’t just heroes or villains—they’re a messy mix of good and bad, driven by circumstance and opportunity. Most of the Greek “heroes” were not good or congenial persons; you won’t invite them for a cup of coffee!.

Just condemning evil acts as something “other people” do lets us off the hook too easily. It’s more uncomfortable, but more honest, to admit that anyone—even you or me could be capable of terrible things under the right (or wrong) circumstances. The scary part isn’t just the existence of evil—it’s realizing that it could just as easily be us.

Maybe it’s time to rethink the stories we tell about heroes and villains. They shape how we see the world, ourselves, and each other. Maybe the real heroism is recognizing our flaws and striving to be better, not for glory or applause, but simply because it’s the right thing to do.

Blurb

Naïve. Passionate. Dangerous.

Manush is all of these—and more. Caught between the heat of first love and the fire of revolution, he confuses desire with destiny and activism with annihilation. What begins with tender hope ends in blood-soaked betrayal.

Set against the turbulent backdrop of Calcutta’s Naxalite uprising, this haunting debut novel unravels the journey of a boy-turned-assassin—his convictions twisted, his soul scarred, his story unforgettable.

The author grew up in the heart of this upheaval, witnessing firsthand how political fervor tore through families and futures. Crimson Mirage is not just fiction—it’s a reckoning. A meditation on blind love, brutal reprisals, and the elusive promise of freedom.

Excerpt

WASH YOUR HANDS!” the ice-cold voice cut through the stillness of the crisp mountain air and broke through his zombie state.

Manush didn’t remember how long he had been sitting on the rock!

The sun had slid slowly, silently below the horizon of the San Bernardino Mountains. The wind was freshening. The clouds riding the salty air of the Pacific Ocean were changing shade, from angry yellow to flaming crimson, in the harsh, upward glare of a late sunset hour. Venus was still the brightest speck in the sky in the midst of the orange-gold scatter of softly gathering twilight.

From not too far off, a mountain goat with cloven hooves—browsing brush and low-growing shrubs—sidled up to him, fixing its malevolent, yellow gaze on him. Far overhead, a homebound chickadee went ‘chickadee-dee-dee’ as it traced its solitary path eastwards.

To the northwest, the cliffs fell sheer to the ravine below, their surface unbroken. The shadows were lengthening across the vast valley lying snugly among the hills. And now, there were blotches of darkness slowly eating away the green. But the full umbra of the sun’s retirement was yet to descend upon the sprawling, rugged landscape.

“Wash your hands!” the voice was insistent in its urgency.

Manush sat upright with a start. He convulsed—first in astonishment, then with fear—as he looked incredulously at Jeevan.

Jeevan was smiling… his usual shy, reassured smile. He had not aged at all! His thick black hair swept back from his forehead, the creaseless, unblemished young skin on his face a contrast to the light growth of hair on his chin. Jeevan looked just like the post-mortem photograph the police had shown him.

About the Author

The author is a professional who grew up in Kolkata during the turbulent times that serve as the backdrop of this novel. He has written short stories and articles. This is his debut novel. More of his writing at https://babujee.substack.com/archive

Website: https://mailchi.mp/996745dceee3/crimson-mirage

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Crimson-Mirage-Red-Road-Romance-ebook/dp/B0FNKXKRFD/ref=sr_1_1

Babujee will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway