Ashlynn Lane
LightNews LightNews
banner
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
Ashlynn Lane
@ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
93 followers 86 following 57 posts
Contemporary romance author of Campfire Over Candlelight, telling stories full of heart, humor, and second chances.

PNW heart. I daydream in purple, collect pens like artifacts, and believe every good idea starts near the ocean.
Posts Replies Media Videos
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

This snip is from my contemporary romance WIP, Slow Your Roll. These characters are based on my own twins...and chaos merchants is absolutely a fitting moniker. 😂

📚🌶️💙
Aidan's head popped out of the service window. "Holy shit, is that Lottie?" "Language!" Ashton appeared beside him. "We have kids out here." "When did you two become actual adults?" Lottie laughed, the sound hitting Beau right in the chest. "We're not," Aidan assured her. "We just fake it really well," Ashton finished. "The terrible twosome," she said, grinning. "You haven't changed a bit." Beau couldn't help but smile as he watched Lottie interact with his brothers. There was something both comforting and unsettling about how easily she slipped back into their dynamic, as if the past decade hadn't happened at all. The twins had been barely teenagers when she'd left Reno, but they'd always adored her—probably because she'd sneak them free roller skate rentals and extra tokens for the arcade games when their parents weren't looking. "Don't let the professional setup fool you," Beau said, nodding toward their food truck. "They're still the same chaos merchants they've always been, just with a business license now."
May 14, 2025 at 5:41 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #WIPSnips

Here's one more for "Where".

#amquerying 📚🌶️💙
The flames in the firepit crackled and danced, sending little sparks skyward as Maisy sank deeper into her deck chair with Jager snoozing lazily at her feet, a blanket tucked around her legs, laptop warm against her thighs, and a cup of hot cocoa nestled in her hands. The sky was that dreamy blue-velvet shade she loved—where the stars hadn’t quite shown up to the party, but the moon was getting bold. Wyatt had left hours ago, and it was ridiculous how much she already missed him. Not just in the sentimental, can’t-wait-to-see-you kind of way. It was bone-deep. Craving his voice, his touch. She loved the way she fit so snugly against his chest, like they'd been split from the same mold. Two halves again made whole when they were together.
May 10, 2025 at 5:33 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #WIPSnips

Happy Saturday! This is snippet is from Campfire Over Candlelight. Wyatt just discovered that Maisy skipped the network gala he'd personally requested she attend.

#amquerying 📚🌶️💙
Campfire Cookout’s crew was here—minus the one person he’d been dying to meet. No Maisy Rosewood. He finished the drink in one long swallow. Another slid into place before he could ask. He slid over another five and took the second glass like it might help fix the part of him that was weirdly disappointed. He made his way across the room to where the crew had gathered, stopping short when he spotted Lexi front and center. Lexi Andrews. Black mini-dress, mile-long legs, cleavage so engineered it should’ve come with a patent number. As he approached, she licked her lips and squared her shoulders, giving her girls a little lift like they were going into battle. Most men would fall all over themselves. Wyatt? He’d dated enough beautiful disasters to know better. Plus, she looked disturbingly like his cheating ex-fiancé. Blonde, bombshell, and calculating. Hard pass.
May 10, 2025 at 5:19 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

This is from my contemporary romance, Campfire Over Candlelight. Following a faked injury sustained by the diva host, Maisy and Wyatt are having to fill, co-hosting the episode together.

#amquerying 📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
“Ready in five…four…” His fingers did the rest of the countdown silently. Showtime. Maisy slipped into gear like she’d never left the stage. “Good afternoon, and thank you for joining us on Campfire Cookout,” she began, the pitch of her voice smooth and welcoming, like she was talking to an old friend. “Some of our diehard fans might remember me from the early days on YouTube. For our newer viewers, I’m Maisy Rosewood, and I’ll be co-hosting today’s special episode alongside Mr. Wyatt Preston, CEO of The Great Outdoors Network.” Wyatt gave a small wave to the camera. “Hello,” he said, instantly regretting the awkwardness of it. He sounded like a substitute teacher introducing himself on the first day of school. His voice wobbled just slightly, enough to make him curse internally. But Maisy reached out and gave his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. That one little touch was enough to steady him. More than that—it lit up something inside his chest that hadn’t sparked in a long time. A steady hum of possibility.
May 7, 2025 at 11:06 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
When a curvy, camera-shy showrunner is forced to cohost her own hit wilderness cooking show with the man who signs her checks, sparks fly in more ways than one—but love gets messy when trauma, toxic family ties, and corporate politics collide.

#questpit #Q #A #R #writingcommunity 📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
Title: Campfire Over Candlelight By: Ashlynn Lane Adult Contemporary Romance Complete at 92,000 words Maisy Rosewood prefers s’mores over spotlights. As the behind-the-scenes genius of Campfire Cookout, a hit cable show filmed on her rustic Whidbey Island property, she’s built a cozy life far away from cameras—and from the anxiety that once consumed her. So when charming, relentless network CEO Wyatt Preston demands she take over as the show’s host, Maisy flat-out refuses. She’s not network material. She’s not polished, poised, or thin enough for TV… is she? But Wyatt isn’t one to take no for an answer—and when he shows up on set, ready to cohost after a cast emergency, Maisy’s carefully guarded world begins to shift. Their chemistry is undeniable, their banter electric—and for the first time in years, Maisy starts to believe she might be more than just the woman behind the curtain. Then her past comes crashing back—an addict mother, a violent new stepfather, and a corporate decision that cuts deeper than business ever should. Now, Maisy must decide: will she retreat into the safety of silence, or step fully into the spotlight of her own life? A heart-forward, sass-laced romance about finding your voice, reclaiming your worth, and falling in love with someone who sees your scars—and stays anyway. Tropes: Slow burn, workplace romance, forced roximity, personal second chances, curvy/plus size heroine, mental health rep-anxiety, found family, creative industry romance, swoon-worthy grand gesture, small town/rustic vibes. Vibes: Campfire Over Candlelight blends the humor and heart of Jill Shalvis with the emotional depth of Abby Jimenez, exploring themes of anxiety, body image, healing, and second chances through a warm, character-driven love story. It will appeal to readers who love the small-town charm and emotional warmth of Jill Shalvis’s The Sweetheart List, the heartfelt journeys of Abby Jimenez’s Yours Truly, and the wilderness-driven second chances of K.A. Tucker’s The Simple Wild. Excerpt from Chapter One: “As always, thanks for tuning in today for Campfire Cookout. I’m your host, Lexi Andrews—” Lexi paused and cast a glance at Maisy, slow and sly like a cat slinking across the countertop after being told no for the third time. The second their eyes met, Maisy felt it in her bones. Yep. She’s winging it again. “—wishing you all a good night,” Lexi finished with a flippant wave and a camera-ready smile that made Maisy want to scream into a throw pillow. “CUT!” Maisy shouted, but her voice was practically swallowed by the collective moan of the crew. She didn’t blame them. Hell, if she weren’t the one in charge, she’d have joined them. A dull ache began its slow burn at the base of Maisy’s skull. She tilted her head back toward the canopy of fir trees and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if that might keep the frustration from spilling out of her ears. Lexi had this magical ability—if magic were fueled by passive-aggression and the world’s most punchable smirk—to get under her skin like no one else. Maisy inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the grounding scents of wet soil, crushed pine needles, and the faintest trace of hemlock. Her forest film set, nestled in the coastal woods of Whidbey Island, had always been her happy place. Her calm. Her sanctuary. Too bad Lexi was a walking, talking, Wi-Fi-dependent storm cloud.
May 7, 2025 at 4:37 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

A snip from my contemporary romance, Campfire Over Candlelight. Gigi trying to convince Maisy to give Wyatt a chance.

📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
Gigi took her hand gently. “Look. I get it. You’re scared. But Wyatt? That man is into you. It’s all over his face. I’ve seen it. We all saw it today. You owe it to yourself to see where this could go. Just one date. Don’t jump into bed with him on the first night and you’re golden.” Maisy barked a laugh. “Says the woman who once slept with the drummer after that indie folk concert in Portland.” “Hey. He brought pie,” Gigi said with a shrug. “That was practically a marriage proposal.”
May 6, 2025 at 5:50 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

This snip is from my contemporary romance, Campfire Over Candlelight. Maisy is battling her guilt for skipping the network gala the night before, and Wyatt is calling her out on it and into his office in LA.

📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
“Good morning, Maisy. It’s Wyatt.” His voice was clipped. Cold. Definitely not the warm, charming cadence she was used to during their usual morning check-ins. This wasn’t hey, how’s the episode coming along Wyatt. This was corporate Wyatt. Which was worse than angry—because it was impersonal. “I need you to come down to my office today. I think it’s time we finally meet face to face.” Her breath caught. “Today? On a Saturday? I didn’t think you worked weekends.” “I try not to make it a habit,” he said, voice tighter than her favorite sports bra, “but I do make exceptions. When forced.” Oof. Okay. He was pissed.
May 4, 2025 at 3:48 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

Snip from my contemporary romance, Campfire Over Candlelight. This is a hungover Maisy feeling guilty over missing the network gala the previous night.

📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
She took her toast, sunglasses, and fleece wrap outside to the deck, where the sharp morning air smacked her in the face like a disapproving grandmother. Still, it helped. The briny scent of Puget Sound, the chirp of birds, the familiar creak of the deck under her bare feet—it grounded her. Her forest cocoon. Her haven. Her mistake. She’d skipped the gala. Flaked on her flight. Dodged her boss’s personal invitation like a coward in yoga pants. Now she was paying for it in guilt, carbohydrates, and regret. After forcing down breakfast and a little fresh air, she went back inside, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the dress. It hung there smugly, teal and taunting, a strapless reminder of her complete lack of nerve. “Nope,” she said to it out loud, because arguing with inanimate objects was apparently where she was in life.
May 3, 2025 at 6:06 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
Sorry for the length on this one, but I couldn't help it...I love it so much!

This snip is from my WIP called Slow Your Roll. Features an inherited skating rink renovation, second-chances, and a slow-burn romance.

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
Looking down at the application, Beau knew he should probably think this through. Working at a roller rink wasn't exactly the cool summer job he'd imagined for himself. Ian would probably give him hell about it, and his football teammates would never let him hear the end of it. But then Lottie's laugh rang out across the rink, clear and genuine, and suddenly none of that seemed to matter. He'd figure out how to skate. He'd deal with the teasing. He'd work whatever hours they gave him. Because something told him that this girl - this bright, bubbly girl who skated like she had wings and helped little kids find their balance - was worth it. Even if she did have more sense than to fall for a smooth-talking pretty boy. Back in his truck, present day Beau ran a hand over his face, trying to shake off the memory. That summer job had changed everything. He'd learned to skate (badly), earned minimum wage (grudgingly), and fallen head over heels for a girl who turned out to be anything but sensible when it came to matters of the heart. And now here he was, years later, about to walk back into the place where it all began. Where they'd fallen in love. Where they'd fallen apart. The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Taking one final deep breath, Beau grabbed his toolbox from the passenger seat. Time to face the music - and hopefully not the ghost of the girl who'd once made his heart skip to the beat of cheesy eighties songs.
May 2, 2025 at 4:12 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
I’m awkwardly anxious, nose always in a book—either mine or someone else’s, smart and often underestimated, sarcastic but fiercely protective of my people.

Who are your four characters?
May 2, 2025 at 3:36 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

I didn't have a good one for explode, so I chose shatter. This is from my speculative novel, The Cursed Lives of Elzada Montclair.

📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
She carved out a life for herself. A logical, orderly one built on hard work, discipline, and a relentless pursuit of purpose. She was respected. Independent. Untouchable. Until three weeks ago, when she saw him. Cole Devereaux, sitting in the sun outside The Goose’s Acre, hunched over his laptop, brow furrowed in thought. And just like that, the neatly stacked boxes of her compartmentalized past began to splinter. Her pulse skipped. Her soul flared to life. That wall she’d built so carefully over fifteen years? It shattered.
April 30, 2025 at 8:54 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

Snip is from my contemporary romance, Campfire Over Candlelight.

📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
He smiled. “I know you don’t want to be here tonight. Hell, I don’t want you anywhere near DJ. So pack your bag, beautiful. Let me be your knight in shining armor and we'll ride off into the sunset together.” She cocked an eyebrow. “And what’s our noble steed, Sir Preston? The Vespa? Your pickup?” Wyatt winced. “A… Toyota Yaris.” Maisy burst into laughter. “Seriously?” “Hey, it’s all they had left on such short notice.” The mental image of his tall, broad-shouldered frame folded into that tiny clown car made her laugh so hard her side hurt.
April 29, 2025 at 3:35 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
Made a mockup cover for Campfire Over Candlelight in Canva and ngl, I feel dangerously powerful now. 😂

Who else makes totally unofficial covers for their WIPs when they should be writing/editing? Drop your chaos below. 🔥🍫

#AmWriting #AmQuerying #WritersOfBluesky #WritingCommunity 📚💙🌶️ 💙📚
Mockup of my new novel, Campfire Over Candlelight. Shows my two main characters sitting around the fire, roasting marshmallows with a wistful look in their eyes.
April 28, 2025 at 12:25 AM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #click #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts 📚💙🌶️
Wyatt clicked the attachment, and his grin broke into full-on laughter. There she was, her hair in the same messy ponytail she’d worn when he kissed her goodbye on the dock, lips still red and swollen from his attention, the glow of the campfire warming her skin. Her smile was playful, her eyebrow lifted like she knew exactly what kind of distraction she was causing. His pants grew uncomfortably tight. Damn. He was still fantasizing about those lips wrapped around his—well, everything—when a shrill voice broke through his open door. “Wyatt!” He nearly fell out of his chair.
April 23, 2025 at 4:48 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #click #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts 📚💙
Bea forced her lips into the appropriate smile, careful to crinkle the corners of her eyes to sell it. "Sounds great. I'll be there in twenty. Just need to send a few emails first." "Don't be late. Lisa's already ordered those bougie small-batch whiskey flights you like." "Wouldn't miss it." Her voice remained steady, balanced. Perfect. Darren disappeared down the hallway, and Bea closed the room door with a soft click. Alone again, she turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. San Francisco spread before her—a landscape of glass and steel she'd chosen over rolling orchards and mountain views. Her reflection stared back, superimposed over the city skyline—blonde hair still perfectly in place, makeup unsmudged despite the news that had just shattered her world. Behind that reflection, fog rolled in from the bay, wrapping around skyscrapers like ghostly fingers. It was the familiar dance of San Francisco weather—beautiful, unpredictable, and somehow fitting for this moment. Bea had always found comfort in watching the city transform, buildings disappearing and reappearing through the mist as if by magic. Today, though, the encroaching fog felt like it was coming for her too.
April 23, 2025 at 4:38 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #wet 📚💙

Currently have a few WIPs going. This is from my women's fiction/romance - Working Title: Lavender Ridge.
The photo slipped from her grasp, landing face-down on her lap. Honey's lungs constricted, her breathing turning shallow and quick. She snatched up the photo and shoved it back into the box, snapping the lid closed with more force than necessary. "No," she whispered to the empty room. "Not tonight." She stood abruptly, the box clutched against her chest, and crossed to the closet. The floorboards creaked beneath her bare feet as she knelt and pushed the box deep into the corner, burying it beneath a stack of old yearbooks and winter sweaters she'd never wear again. Back pressed against the closet door, Honey slid to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the familiar panic rising like floodwater. Twelve years hadn't dulled the edge of that memory—the weight of hands holding her down, the smell of cheap beer, the laughter that turned to anger when she fought back.
April 16, 2025 at 3:12 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #wet 📚💙
The stench of smoke mixed with melted plastic and the chemical aftermath of fire suppressant hit her immediately. Her eyes watered, but she couldn't tell if it was from the lingering smoke or the sight of her beloved rink. The once-vibrant entry lobby was now a charred skeleton of itself. Black soot crawled up the walls like some living thing that had tried to consume everything in its path. The vintage posters she'd salvaged from storage—gone. The refurbished ticket counter—warped beyond repair. "Oh god." The words escaped in a broken whisper as she pressed her hand to her mouth. Beau's arm slipped around her waist, anchoring her as her knees threatened to buckle. "The structure's still sound. We can rebuild all of this." She pulled away from him, needing to see the full extent of the damage. Her sneakers crunched over broken glass and debris as she moved toward the rink itself. Water from the sprinklers had pooled on the wooden floor, warping sections of it. The disco ball that had hung from the ceiling for decades lay shattered on the ground, hundreds of mirrored pieces reflecting her devastation back at her.
April 16, 2025 at 2:58 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #Fear #WritingCommunity #WriteSky 📚💙
April 15, 2025 at 3:10 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #Fear #WritingCommunity #WriteSky 📚💙
April 15, 2025 at 2:59 PM
ashlynnwrites.bsky.social
My new favorite cup!

It really is the little things in life… 💜🛼🪩🎶
April 8, 2025 at 1:10 AM