Becky Flade, Author

The amazing Jessica Heatherly said of my award-winning, romantic thriller Fall to Pieces “Definitely don’t judge this book by its cover! On first look, I assumed this book would be a romance novel disguised as a mystery but boy was I wrong!” It’s a great 5-star review; I’m not knocking it. And I understand the bodice rippers of the 80’s contribute to society’s knee-jerk reaction to romance novels. People see a couple on the cover and assume the worst. I don’t like it, but I get it. That said… I love my covers. Wait. You don’t know what a bodice ripper is? Back in the 80's, the reigning queens of romance had the most atrocious covers. I've heard them called nursing mother covers but I prefer to describe them as BODICE RIPPERS.  Oh, Lordy, those covers. They defined an era, sure, but I'm glad as an author, they're before my time. I wouldn't trade my pretty covers for anything. Not even the gritty covers fans of suspenseful thrillers are fonder.   If you e...

  Lexi woke slowly. The familiar feel of her bed, the comforting smell of her laundry detergent lingering in the sheet pressed against her face, reassured her. I’m home. I made it home. Head pounding, mouth dry and tasting like a barroom floor–or how she imagined a barroom floor would taste–and with seven-hour old whiskey roiling in her stomach threatening to reappear, Lexi opened her eyes. A man lay snoring beside her, his head down by her feet and his well-toned, hairy body sprawled on top of the sheets. They’d lost the duvet while tangling over it in the pre-dawn hours. Lexi remembered without embarrassment picking him up at the bar and bringing him home with her, the vigorous sex she’d semi-enjoyed but couldn’t remember his name. Bending a leg, she planted a foot in his cute behind and shoved him out of bed. “Time to go, Romeo.” Lexi stifled a laugh at the distinctively female yelp as he tumbled to the floor. The sheet puddled around her lap as she sat, but she didn’t bother...