Harper Dale | Updates

Coming Spring 2026! You. Again.

Harper Dale — Mon, 15 Dec 2025 11:05:37 -0500

He’s an arrogant, stubborn, immovable object blocking crime reporter Kat Coe from the story she’s determined to tell—about the savage slaying of a wealthy Texas heiress.

Detective T. J. Callahan is one to drool over. But his sole focus is finding the killers, and Kat’s news stories are getting in his way.

“There’d be no news if all reporters did was swallow your crap. The people have the right to know.”

He stops and turns to face me with a fry-in-hell glare.

“The people also have the right to a properly conducted police investigation. You just blew the hell out of any chance of that.”

They both have an unexpected problem: from the moment their eyes meet, there’s a connection.

His brows twist. He squints, staring at me as if he’s trying to crawl behind my eyes.

“Do I know you?”

Regaining my wherewithal, I tap my finger to my chest.

“Me? No.”

What makes him ask that?

But she feels it, too.

As their conflicts escalate and the investigation deepens, so does their bond—tangled in dreams Kat can’t explain. She starts to question everything: her instincts, her memories, and the man who feels like home.

You. Again. is a romantic suspense crime novel that explores the fragility of the presumption of innocence, the ethics of journalism, and the possibility that some connections transcend time.

Set in 1980s Texas, it’s a collision between a stubborn detective and a relentless crime reporter—over a brutal murder… and a connection neither can explain.

For fans of Sandra Brown and Linda Howard.

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Readers and critics love The Connector

Harper Dale — Sat, 9 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Love and Danger make for a compelling read

“Now, listen.” B.J. yawns. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful. I’ve never had a ticket.”

“Don’t speed.”

“Okay.” Geez.

“I’ve got weed in the walls. We don’t want to get pulled over.”

Did he say what I thought he said? “What?” I whip my head around. “What did you say?”

“I’ve got some dope in the walls. Don’t get pulled over.”

That’s what I thought he said. My scalp begins to tingle.

He lined the van walls with wood paneling when he built the bed. And now, he’s stashed marijuana behind the paneling? “Why?”

He mumbles sleepily, “Because it sells for twice as much on the East Coast. We can make some money.”

A high-pitched, loud ringing noise pierces my ears. Selling a baggie or two in Austin is one thing, but why would he carry illegal drugs across state lines without saying something to me?

It takes a moment to gather my senses. “How much?”

Nothing.

I twist in the seat to see him. “B.J.! How much are we carrying?”

Nada.

I turn on the cabin lights. He lies flat on his back, his left arm over his head, his head rolled to the right, and his mouth already open a bit. He is dead asleep with our baby, Jim Beau, under his left arm. He pushed himself to the limit—so like him.

Okay. We do what we have to do.

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Coming Soon! DeVecchio: Colpo di Fulmine

Harper Dale — Sat, 9 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000

An American Mafia romance by Harper Dale coming soon

Love is the last thing on his mind. But blue eyes have an unexpected effect on this Mafia underboss

“Fine. I’ll call a cab. I’ll meet it at the gate.” I head for the living room. I know there’s a phone in there.

Matteo yells after me, “You’re not going home!”

“I can go home if I want to.”

He’s beside me in the hallway, his arm barring my way. “No, you can’t. We just had that run-in with Sophia and your ex. He knows where you live. He can tell her. You’re not going home.”

“Fuck you, Matteo. I don’t want to be here.” I try to duck under his arm, but he blocks the hall with his body, now both arms out.

His gaze narrows. “You told me I was your thunderbolt.”

“You are!” I scream at him, giving vent to the agony in my chest. “Why can’t you see, Matteo? I’m in love with you already. Dammit! I know it doesn’t make sense, but you take my breath. But you… you don’t love me. Do you know how that feels, Matteo? To love someone who’s in love with someone else?”

He clutches his heart with both hands and closes his eyes.

A beat later he shakes his head softly. “Sherry, you are beautiful, sexy, smart, funny—”

“But you can’t say it, can you? You cannot say you love me because you don’t. Just let me go. Please.”

Without warning, Matteo roars like a lion and smashes his fist into the bathroom door, burying his hand in splintered wood. “Get out!” he hollers, aiming his arm toward the living room.

As I race to grab my purse in the kitchen, he has me by the wrist.

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