When a bolt of lightning drags bookstore owner Lena Harper into the pages of a centuries-old chronicle, she’s thrust into a love triangle that spans worlds and lifetimes: a devoted medieval knight, a seductive immortal, and the best friend she left behind. As her heart becomes entangled with all three men, Lena uncovers a truth that binds their fates—and hers—in ways she never imagined. Caught between fantasy and reality, she must choose the world she belongs to and the love worth stepping out of her stories for. Readers who enjoy steamy genre-bending romances will want to sink their teeth into Versions of You by Cecelia Mecca, a fated mates, second-chance, forbidden romance.
Blurb
Lena Harper sells love stories in her bookstore. She never expected to fall into one.
When lightning strikes her small-town bookshop, pulling Lena into the pages of a centuries-old chronicle, she finds herself torn between a noble knight, a dark immortal, and her steadfast best friend.
In medieval England, Sir Rowan offers devotion and protection.
In Stone Haven, immortal Riven awakens Lena’s darker cravings.
And back home in Kitchi Falls waits Nolan, the best friend she’s never truly seen.
Three men. Three worlds. One impossible truth … they’re all connected to her in ways she never imagined.
As the boundaries blur between story and reality, Lena must step out of her books and risk everything for the love waiting right in front of her.
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Excerpt
Copyright 2025, Cecelia Mecca
Rain tapped softly against the windows of Kitchi Falls Books, the steady rhythm syncing with the thrum of my pulse as I turned another page. Was there anything better than the smell of old paper on a rainy afternoon? Maybe one thing: reading a romance that made you feel something again. Something real. Something messy.
“Let me guess,” Nolan said as he set a mug beside me, steam curling upward like a beckoning hand. “You skipped lunch. Again.”
I looked up at him—my best friend, my constant, the boy who used to trade PB&J halves with me in third grade and had somehow turned into a man with forearms I pretended not to notice.
“It’s barely noon,” I protested.
“It’s two-thirty,” he countered, one brow raised.
Okay, so time slipped when I read. Sue me.
“I’m just saying,” he continued, leaning on the counter beside me, “it wouldn’t kill you to occasionally consume food that isn’t flavored with printer ink.”
I smiled, unable to help it. Nolan’s teasing never felt like criticism. It felt like care. Like home.
He nudged the book in my hands. “Good?”
“Great,” I said. “The kind of read that makes the world feel bigger.”
That earned me a quiet look—one of those soft, unreadable ones Nolan gave when he wanted to say more but didn’t.
Before I could ask what was behind it, the bell over the door chimed.
A man stepped inside, rain clinging to his shoulders like it worshiped him. Tall. Dark hair. Sharp jaw. Eyes so blue they looked unreal under the shop lights. He shouldn’t have fit in Kitchi Falls—our little lake town was cozy sweaters and maple donuts, not… whatever he was.
He scanned the shelves like he was searching for something he’d lost a lifetime ago.
“Need help finding anything?” Nolan asked, but the stranger’s gaze was fixed on me.
On my book.
“The Healer’s Curse,” he said, voice low, a strange familiarity threading through it. “You enjoy stories like that?”
I blinked. “Stories like what?”
“Ones where fate pulls two people together long before they understand why.”
A shiver traced my neck.
Nolan stepped closer—not protective exactly, but present, his body blocking half the stranger’s view. “Can we help you with something?”
“Yes,” the man said simply. “Her.”
“Me?” I echoed.
The stranger nodded once. “Your name is Lena, yes?”
My breath stalled. I didn’t know him. Had never seen him in town. Yet he said my name like he’d said it before. Like he’d whispered it into the dark.
“Do I… know you?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “But you will.”
Okay. Cryptic much?
Nolan angled himself between us. “Maybe you should try that line somewhere else.”
The stranger didn’t even flinch. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I came to return something.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, leather-bound book. Old. Worn. The kind of artifact historians drooled over.
I hesitated but took it. The cover was embossed with a symbol I recognized instantly—a crescent moon surrounded by three intertwined circles. I’d seen it in the medieval romance series I’d been reading. In the margins of my dad’s genealogy notes. Even in last night’s dream—
My heartbeat tripped.
“How did you get this?” I whispered.
His gaze softened. “That’s a much longer story than you’re ready for.”
And just like that, the lights flickered overhead. Once. Twice. Like the whole world held its breath.
“Lena?” Nolan’s voice pulled me back.
I forced a smile. “It’s fine. Really.”
But it wasn’t. Something inside me shifted the moment the book touched my hands, as if a door I hadn’t known existed had swung open.
The stranger gave a barely-there bow. “We will see each other again.”
Then he stepped back into the rain, leaving the scent of storm air and something ancient behind.
Nolan shut the door a little too hard. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly, but the truth pulsed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
I wasn’t sure whether I felt terrified.
Or awakened.
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About the Cecelia Mecca
Cecelia Mecca is a former 8th-grade teacher and curriculum consultant turned full-time romance author. Armed with a PhD in Language & Literacy, an enduring love of chai lattes, and a newly minted Italian passport she uses to visit Sicily as often as possible, she writes across three romance genres under the Mecca Romance umbrella: • Cissy Mecca – steamy small-town romance • C.L. Mecca – romantasy & paranormal romance • Cecelia Mecca – medieval & Scottish historical romance If you love emotionally charged, flirt-filled love stories where strong women fall hard but never lose themselves, you’ve found your next favorite author. Cecelia’s heroines are bold, her heroes bring the heat, and every story is an escape—whether to a small town beside a vineyard or to the intrigue-filled Anglo-Scottish border of the 13th century. Cecelia lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and two teens. When she’s not writing, she’s planning her next girls’ trip or Disney vacation, sipping wine, or chatting with readers. From castles to coffee shops, your escape awaits.
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When a not-quite-jilted bride turns her would-be honeymoon into a solo adventure, the last thing she expects is to fall for Paris or the broodingly handsome artist who shows her its secrets. As midnight kisses blur into something deeper, she must choose between the life she left behind and the future she never saw coming. One Night in Paris by N.D. Jackson is a heart-mending, spicy travel romance where art, passion, and second chances collide in the world’s most romantic city.
Not quite a jilted bride,
I still find myself on a first-class flight to Paris—solo.
What was supposed to be a honeymoon has become my Great Parisian Adventure: art, food, and falling in love with the city.
Then I met Lucien.
Tall. Dark. French. Irresistibly artsy.
He taught me how to see the city through his eyes.
Its sounds, its colors, its passion.
And somehow, somewhere between croissants, art galleries, and midnight kisses,
Paris stopped being just a place… and started to feel like him.
But he’s a world away from my real life.
And I came here to move on, not fall in love.
Still, you can’t have a Great Parisian Adventure without a touch of romance.
Even if it can't last.
One Night in Paris is a jilted bride, friends to lovers, travel romance with a happy ending, steamy open-door scenes and a whole lotta Paris. Features a scorching hot Parisian with sensitive eyes, a gentle soul and hot touch.
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Excerpt
Copyright 2025, N.D. Jackson
For the first time in my life, words failed me so I did the only thing that seemed appropriate in the moment, I pressed my lips to hers and let the moment carry me.
A soft whimper escaped Emerald’s lips when our mouths touched at the exact same time her hands landed on my chest, the warmth of her touch penetrated every layer of my skin.
It was an odd sensation, kissing a woman who wasn’t Eve. Who didn’t taste the way Eve did. Emerald’s curls were a stark contrast to her silky straight locks. Everything about the kiss was surreal because I never thought I would kiss another pair of lips but here I was, savoring a pair that were thicker and softer than I was accustomed to. She tasted of cherries instead of peach lip balm.
Emerald’s lips weren’t submissive, she dove right into the kiss as if she wanted it the way I wanted it. Her hands curled into the fabric of the thin t-shirt I slept in, fisting it as if she wanted to make sure I didn’t break the kiss.
As if I could.
Not even ten thousand hours could have dragged our lips apart. Her kiss was more intoxicating than the best French wine, her touch was hotter than the hottest Parisian sun. Every second that our lips were fused together was another second I grew addicted to her touch and her taste. Emerald kissed the way she seemed to do everything, with an immense passion that was impossible to ignore. Her lips moved against mine with a drugging intensity that made my head spin. Her tongue danced with mine so effortlessly as if we’d been kissing for years, diving deep as if she was hungry for every inch of me.
The soft moans she made were enough to unravel the steely resolve that had settled deep in my bones the moment the doctor’s told me my wife, my son, my entire world was gone. The hesitation was gone, vanishing on the breeze that tore through the apartment, replaced by pent up passion that shocked me with its ferocity.
The way I wanted her didn’t just shock me, it scared me. Who was this woman to make me want her this way? Why did she affect me this way when no other woman had? I had been the picture of the faithful, grieving husband since the day I lost her and now it was all gone. Obliterated in one, heartfelt act.
An eternity passed before one of us—Emerald—pulled back, gasping and wide-eyed. Her lips were pink and swollen as they curved up into a slow smile. “That was…wow. One hell of a kiss.”
Her words relaxed me and pulled me out of my head a way nothing else could have in that moment. “It was pretty wow wasn’t it?”
She nodded, a short shock of laughter exploded from her lips. “Yeah,” she sighed. “It was.” Her gaze went from my eyes back to my lips, and then her breath hitched as if she was fighting the urge to kiss me again.
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About N.D. Jackson
Wanderer. Lover of books. Romance author. Vegan. Those are just some of the things used to describe me! When I’m not spinning tales of small town and contemporary romance, I love to travel, cook, and watch/listen to true crime, history & strange documentaries and podcasts. I’m a native Chicagoan currently living in Europe who has been in love with books for as long as I can remember. My first book, Conflict of Interest, was published in 2014, and I’ve been writing books ever since! I’m a full-time writer and part-time author, traveler, vegan blogger, and obsessive fan of Dawson’s Creek.
Follow: Facebook | TikTok | Instagram | Reader Group | Goodreads | BookBub | Website | Newsletter | Amazon
When a not-quite-jilted bride turns her would-be honeymoon into a solo adventure, the last thing she expects is to fall for Paris or the broodingly handsome artist who shows her its secrets. As midnight kisses blur into something deeper, she must choose between the life she left behind and the future she never saw coming. Pre-order this heart-mending, spicy travel romance from N.D. Jackson, where art, passion, and second chances collide in the world’s most romantic city.
Title: One Night in Paris
Author: N.D. Jackson
Release Date: 12/02/2025
Genres: Romantic Comedy
Page Count: 127 pages
Tropes: Diverse Romance, Jilted Bride, Friends-to-Lovers, Travel Romance, Second Chance Romance, Spicy Romance.
Blurb
It started as one night in Paris.
It ended with forever on the line.
Not quite a jilted bride,
I still find myself on a first-class flight to Paris—solo.
What was supposed to be a honeymoon has become my Great Parisian Adventure: art, food, and falling in love with the city.
Then I met Lucien.
Tall. Dark. French. Irresistibly artsy.
He taught me how to see the city through his eyes.
Its sounds, its colors, its passion.
And somehow, somewhere between croissants, art galleries, and midnight kisses,
Paris stopped being just a place… and started to feel like him.
But he’s a world away from my real life.
And I came here to move on, not fall in love.
Still, you can’t have a Great Parisian Adventure without a touch of romance.
Even if it can't last.
One Night in Paris is a jilted bride, friends to lovers, travel romance with a happy ending, steamy open-door scenes and a whole lotta Paris. Features a scorching hot Parisian with sensitive eyes, a gentle soul and hot touch.
About N.D. Jackson
Wanderer. Lover of books. Romance author. Vegan. Those are just some of the things used to describe me! When I’m not spinning tales of small town and contemporary romance, I love to travel, cook, and watch/listen to true crime, history & strange documentaries and podcasts. I’m a native Chicagoan currently living in Europe who has been in love with books for as long as I can remember. My first book, Conflict of Interest, was published in 2014, and I’ve been writing books ever since! I’m a full-time writer and part-time author, traveler, vegan blogger, and obsessive fan of Dawson’s Creek.
Follow: Facebook | TikTok | Instagram | Reader Group | Goodreads | BookBub | Website | Newsletter | Amazon
