Isabelle Drake

The past couple months were filled with conference travel.  In early March, I attended an academic/literacy conference in Baltimore. It's an event I've attended on and off for over a decade. When I first started attending, I went as an MFA student. The faculty of the MFA program I was attending told us the event was a blast - super fun! I am, and was back then, all about having fun especially if it involves books and writers. So, expecting the sort of fun I typically had at a writing event, off I went.  As it turned out, as I figured out the first time I went, it was not that kind of fun. I found the other attendees to be a tad stuffy at times. No laughing in the halls. Very literary. As it turned out, it was a serious event filled with serious people. I did have the promised "good time" but it took some rethinking on my part. Once I caught on to the serious nature of the event, I decided not to tell anyone I was a romance author. Meanwhile, over the years, I continue...

Motivational speaker and personal improvement expert Jaya Vinar is out of control--or so people keep telling her. When her boss pairs her with a handsome personal consultant, things get even more out of control. She wants to scare him off, he wants her in his bed. Only one can win. And neither is exactly who they’re pretending to be. Sometimes wild, and rocky, starts lead to even wilder, and happier, endings. Excerpt The Troy, Michigan hotel bar was circled by oil paintings of thoroughbreds grazing on rolling hills. Thanks to the wall paneling and brass fixtures, it was businesslike and sophisticated, yet still cozy. An ornate mirror ran the length of the bar, reflecting the brightly-colored liquor bottles. The only person seated in the row of tall stools was a brown-haired man in a nondescript navy jacket and khaki pants. A glass of white wine sat in front of him and his full attention on his phone. She stood back, watching him, a plan forming in the back of her mind. The idea ros...

The Sloe & Cranberry Sour may feel like a vintage classic—something your great‑aunt might have sipped in a velvet‑draped supper club—but in truth, it’s a relatively modern creation born from two intersecting trends in cocktail culture: the revival of sloe liqueurs and the renaissance of the sour. Sloe berries—tiny, tart, wild relatives of the plum—have been steeped in gin and spirits in the UK since at least the 1700s. Traditionally, sloe gin was a farmhouse project: pick the berries after the first frost, prick them with a needle, drown them in gin and sugar, and wait for winter to do its magic. By the mid‑20th century, sloe gin had a reputation problem. Cheap, overly sweet versions flooded the market, and bartenders largely ignored it. But the craft spirits movement of the 2000s changed everything. High‑quality, small‑batch sloe liqueurs—like Edwards 1902 Mulled Sloe Liqueur—brought the ingredient roaring back into fashion. Enter: The Modern Sour Revival The classic sour (spirit ...

1. You walk into a New Year’s Eve party and the first thing you reach for is: A. The charcuterie board — you negotiate contracts, you can negotiate cheese. B. A jewel‑toned mocktail that looks like it belongs on your Instagram grid. C. Your work bestie, because you two communicate in eye‑rolls and ambition. D. A quiet corner where you can finish the last chapter of your book before midnight.   2. Your phone buzzes at midnight. Who’s texting you first? A. Your group chat of overachievers who hype each other like it’s a sport. B. Your mentor, sending a “Proud of you” message that makes you emotional. C. Your crush, who finally figured out how to use punctuation. D. No one — you put your phone on Do Not Disturb to protect your peace.   3. You wake up on January 1st craving: A. A bold new project that scares you in the best way. B. A fresh planner, color‑coded tabs, and a latte the size of your ambition. C. A long, luxurious morning in bed with a novel and zero obligations. D. A b...

Boat House Punch was created by cocktailier Julie Reiner from Clover Club and Flatiron Lounge of New York. This fizzy, citrus-packed concoction is pretty much summer in a punch bowl. First up: lemon oleo saccharum. Sounds fancy, right? But it’s just muddled lemon peels and sugar. Its like they are having a sweet little spa day until they release the oils and turn into syrupy gold. Easy peasy lemon squeezy… literally. Next, you’re pouring in dry gin (your sophisticated side), Aperol (bittersweet and bold), St-Germain (floral vibes), and a juicy trio of lemon, orange, and grapefruit. And just when you think it couldn’t get any dreamier, in comes the sparkling rosé for that flirty fizz that screams “celebration!” This isn’t your average overly-sweet mystery punch that leaves you rethinking your life choices. Surprise! Boat House Punch is chic, flavorful, and fabulous. So whip up a batch, pop on a sundress, and let the good times (and compliments) flow. INGREDIENTS 4 lemons, peeled 1/2 cup...

“You don’t understand yet, do you? Let me explain. You belong to me now. Until I’m done with you, that is.” Hayden ground his teeth, trying to crush the sensation in his jaw, but couldn’t pull his gaze away from Mattie’s glistening, exposed body. Tiny icicles clung to the tangles of her hair and flakes of snow dotted her thighs, bare above the edge of the tights.   “The guy I work for thinks they’re a great tie-in to the zombie stuff—my piece, the comic convention and the opening of Zombie Rites. And all that stuff about zombies—” “Roaming the streets?” she cut in, grinning as she dropped her hand to smack snow off her limp skirt. Once she got the clumps off, she ran her fingers across the hem, inching it up her bare thighs. Hayden glanced at the apartment. Rachelle was not peering out the window, watching for him. He shifted back. Hayden found himself watching the flicker of her stubby black fingernails as she inched up the hem of her skirt. He knew she wasn’t wearing...