Spotlight & Giveaway: Monopolove by Mia Heintzelman

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Mia Heintzelman to HJ!

Hi Mia Heintzelman and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Monopolove!

To start off, can you please tell us a little bit about this book?:

A bighearted game store owner heroine and a “so not ready for Hasbro Nation” cinnamon roll hero face off in a Monopoly tournament to save her store. Between game practices and renovating his late grandfather’s home, a quirky, banter-filled, rivals to lovers romance sparks.
 

Please share your favorite lines or quote(s) from this book:

“What if I don’t want to be your rival anymore?”

“He’s all, Are you saying what I think you’re saying? and I’m like, If you think I’m saying go get a fresh haircut, spray on some cologne, and find something other than Monopoly to talk about, you might just get to take a ride on the Reading.”

“With Harper, I already know I could be a million miles away or a state away, and she’d still be with me.”

“Just so you know, I need my hands free when I kiss.”

What inspired this book?

I’m a board game junkie. I used to host loud, raucous, fun game nights. With a pandemic, social media, and Zooms, I’d been feeling like we were losing that kind of human connection and fun that goes with family game night. So, I decided to give my characters this gift that I love so much. Naturally, my head went straight for the classic, Monopoly. The fact that I’d read about tournaments felt like the perfect setup for a rivals-to-lovers romance.

How did you ‘get to know’ your main characters? Did they ever surprise you?

Harper is a fun-loving, feisty, and loyal member of Hasbro Nation who sets out to save her beloved game store by entering the local Monopoly tournament. Declan is a broody, romantic, cinnamon roll doctor in town to renovate his late grandfather’s quaint little bungalow when he stumbles upon the flyer for the tournament.

These characters are in the middle of a romantic comedy, so there are lots of laughs as they fall in love. But between those funny moments, I’m always surprised by the level of emotions and how real the protagonists’ wounds feel. After a meet disaster, they play Monopoly, renovate a home together, and get roasted by a comedian. But Harper learns to forgive and trust her father again. Declan grapples with the fact that he wasn’t there when he lost his grandfather. As I’m getting to know my characters—aside from creating detailed Pinterest boards with face grabs and aesthetics—I learn so much about the way their relationships with family, friends, and exes shape them.

What was your favorite scene to write?

The second Monopoly tournament practice scene, where Declan beats Harper. There’s so much underlying tension between them rooted in both the game and their undeniable attraction.

SCENE

Again, Declan and I are alone.

“You’re serious?” he asks. I shoot him a wide-eyed as a heart attack expression daring him to lay it on me so we can finally have this out. “Never mind?”

He huffs out a mirthless laugh. “Are we finally flirting with having a real conversation?”
Nice word choice.
“Let’s,” I mutter with a jerk of my eyebrow.
“Where should we begin? The coffee shutdown.” A smile spreads across his face. “Maybe the day I walked into this shop to see about registering for this tournament, and you couldn’t get me out of here fast enough? That was fun.”
I feel my defenses rising. “Is that how you remember it?”
“Let’s not forget you thought I’d put this petty rivalry or whatever it is you have against me before being a decent human being. If that wasn’t enough, then, in front of the woman at the hardware store…” Declan erases the distance between us. We’re inches apart now. So close I can feel his breath swarm over my face and neck. It shuts me right up. “You walk away rather than acknowledge you know me. I’m just curious. How do you think that made me feel?”
My mouth is all the way open, my neck craned back to meet his intense gaze.
Before I can eke out the words, he answers his own question.
“Exactly. I’d say that covers the high points, Ms. Sloane,” he hisses my name. “So, again, was there something else you needed, or are we going to keep playing these games?” Declan scrubs a hand over his face. “You know what? I think I will go.”
But he doesn’t move.
The rigid posture and hard lines surface, and I hate the idea of him clamming back up.
“I…” I can’t catch my breath.

My chest heaves, and my heart nearly stops.

When you’re so close you can hear the other person’s shallow breaths and erratic heartbeat, one would think you’d give said person some space. A chance to take a step back and gather a couple coherent thoughts for a comeback. Not Declan Wilde, though. He’s ruthless the way he holds my stare, daring me to refute his points. Daring me to blink.
My knees start to wobble, and every inch of my flesh tingles.
One second, he’s bankrupting the table and checking rematch off his vendetta list. The next his mouth…is a whisper away.
I search his darkened eyes as they peer into me. The muscles at his jaw hard and tense. His chest rising and falling like he’s on the precipice of…something. A point of no return.
“Oh, my God. I’ve caused you to malfunction…” He chuckles.
Then, I make my trademark, irrevocable mistake. I mean to drop my gaze, but it snags on his lips. And of course, there’s the cocky lopsided smile.
Shit.
Because I need to do something with my hands, I swipe a misplaced Monopoly box off a rounder, beelining over to the display. I take my time straightening the boxes as I let air refill my lungs. I’m dizzy and electrified all at the same time. What is happening? I want to lunge for him and yell at him, but what for?
I flatten my hands on the table to hold myself upright with my back to him.
“You can go,” I say after a beat.
It’s been established that he isn’t my real-life rival, but again, here’s another new development. Another glimpse. A very distractingly sexy peek. And it’s…it’s definitively worth exploring.
When I can catch my breath.
At the muffled thud of his footsteps, I figure he should be satisfied. Smugly validated and clear to walk off into the sunset knowing he’s beaten me at every game.
But the jingle of the bell doesn’t come.
Instead, a pair of rigid, defined forearms cage me be- tween the table and his hard chest. I jolt around so I’m sitting on the table.
“What are you doing?” Fire blazes through my veins. My flesh tingles. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s tethered by a tiny string that tugs low and tight in my belly. He’s impossibly close, and I’m hard-pressed to choose where to focus. His deliciously full lips, slightly parted and teasing me. Or his dark, penetrating brown eyes.
“Do you hate me, Harper?”
The lips.
Always.
My gaze is transfixed with their outline, the small movements, kissing together with every word. I can’t look away.
Oh, my glorious God.
I feel my eyebrows draw together as I swallow. I want to tell him yes, firmly, with all the confidence I felt five minutes ago. But the lie won’t pass my lips.
He levels his stare until we’re eye to eye, lips nearly to lips. His expression is as tortured and screwed up as I feel inside.
“It’s okay. The feeling’s mutual,” he says.
My emotions trudge the peak of this roller coaster we’ve been riding. I’m at the top, looking down just before I freefall.

Declan brushes his lips over mine, and my middle melts.
My heart does stop. Or my breathing. It’s hard to tell which, it’s so unexpected. So gentle and soft. Tentative sweeps and curious drags of his tongue like he’s sampling his favorite flavor for the first time. He takes his time peppering more kisses as he searches my eyes.
He’s waiting for me to protest. Push him away. But I’d have to be in my right mind to do that.
I seem to have lost it.
Or maybe Declan’s taken it. He’s stolen my breath and my voice. The ability to think straight. My entire body is on fire, sizzling with every touch, every sensation. I’m blind- sided by a need so powerful I’m totaled on the spot.
Holy hell.
What’s worse is I’ve forgotten how to move my lips. Yet, I’m desperate. To be closer, for him to deepen the kiss.
But, like a well-trained adversary, just when he has me where he wants me, he pulls away.
He traces his tongue over his lower lip. With his thumb, he swipes at the corners of his mouth, and the cocky grin tilts his lips.
“I guess I’ll see you next Saturday. I’m, uh…I’m glad we had this talk.”
And then he’s gone.

What was the most difficult scene to write?

Without fail, it’s always chapter one. I’m always working toward a balance of piquing interest to get to know and care about the characters and avoiding too much. My goal is to get to the action in a way that highlights the character’s personality and hints at the main conflict. In this case, oops, Harper’s game store needs saving.

SCENE
“Roxanne Sloane.” I use her full name, enunciating every syllable. “Please tell me you didn’t use the last K-Cup. Tell me you have a secret stash somewhere and we’re not completely out of coffee.”

Because she’s my sister, Rox ignores my clamped-shut eyes and the finger I’m holding up, my other hand planted on my hip.
“You used the last one yesterday.”
Did I? That’s right. Shoot, I did.
Her sharp tone rips through my haze. “Now, seriously. We need to talk.”
With an impatient lift of my chin, I meet her unblinking gaze.
“I’m listening.”
She draws her perfectly arched eyebrows together, and that’s when I register the tilt of her head. The seriousness in her oversteeped brown eyes is so much more. It’s a mix of worry and…sadness?
There’s a heaviness to her faraway stare before she wraps her hand around to knead the back of her neck.
I flit a glance over to the coffee table stacked with mail, papers, and books, where she was sitting earlier.
Color-coded spreadsheets…
Together with my sister and my best friend, Nadia, we own Love & Games, a one-of-a-kind ode to classic board games. I’m the creative tier. I merchandise, choose the inventory and product displays, and represent the brand in the community. Nadia is the glorified HR department. When it’s more than just the three of us, she’ll handle recruiting, interviewing, hiring, and training staff. For now, she oversees workplace safety, labor laws, and company culture policies (i.e., social media). Rox runs the business end. She pays the bills, balances the books, that kind of thing.

And she color-codes profit and loss statements to explain earnings trends to Nadia and me.

This is not a Ferrari or sexy stilettos. Red is not good.
“What’s going on?” I suck in a lungful of air and hold it.
“I thought we had an amazing December. It should have rounded out a stellar quarter, right? The year-end numbers can’t be that bad…” I let the words die on my tongue when her eyes flood with tears. “Holy shit, Rox. What is it?”
She shakes her head, kneading the back of her neck again. “It wasn’t enough.”
“What wasn’t enough?”
“I thought I could fix it…” Rox swallows and lifts her gaze to meet mine. Then she blurts out, “Our cash flow is steadily declining. Our sales just aren’t enough to cover our expenses and the deficit. We might lose the shop.”
Dang, I was supposed to look at the numbers.
I’m so confused. Rox Sloane is nothing if not the person with answers. She’s a financial guru. If there’s a way to make a way, she will grab a shovel and grind out an alternative path. She is hardcore. Business. Numbers. Profits and losses, she just gets it. The notion that Love & Games could fail blindsides me.
How did I not see this coming? I should’ve been paying attention to my sister at the very least.
Shit.
“Okay, wait.” My legs feel weak, and suddenly I need to sit down. “You said deficit?” I shoot her a curious glance over my shoulder as I walk into the living room and plop down onto the couch.
“Remember when the storm zapped the electrical back in June, and we had to pay out of pocket to get back up and running until the insurance reimbursed us?” When I nod, she continues. “Well, they’re not. Apparently, ‘acts of God’ aren’t covered.”
Shoot, the repairs were somewhere over fifteen thousand. On top of our existing expenses and debt…
Not good.
I’m still reeling, still questioning, backtracking the past year. I vaguely remember Rox moving money around to offset the expense. We don’t exactly have a cushion in savings, and the tiny line of credit the bank gave us simply won’t cut it.
My stomach rolls as I curl up on the couch, searching Rox’s eyes, trying to make this all make sense.
“Did you talk to Don?” I ask, referring to our landlord for the building.
She blows out her cheeks then slowly releases a breath that feels like a bomb drop. “He’s claiming that it falls under regular maintenance and repairs as a tenant.” Shit. She shrugs. “I tried to reason with him but getting him to reimburse us is a freaking longshot.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “So, you’re using—”
“The cash in the business checking to pay for rent, inventory, loan and credit card payments,” Rox says. “Also, to fund payroll.”
“Oh, my goodness.”
Heat swarms my face. I feel nauseous.
A toxic mix of fear and anger twists at my gut and wrings my heart. I’ve got to think of something to fix this. This is not our fault, but we can’t fail.
I don’t have a backup plan.
The thought of eventually losing everything we’ve worked for due to something completely out of our control shatters through me. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I flit a blurry glance between Rox and the spreadsheets.
How is this happening?
A tingling sensation sweeps up the back of my neck. “I’m going to figure something out,” I say, unable to sit here and look at my sister, internalizing this “act of God.”
She swallows. The pride that normally flows from her is gone. It’s like I’ve plugged up the drain and now she’s drowning in it. “I didn’t want to tell you or Nadia until I was sure we needed to start thinking about other options.”
The vein at my temple throbs.

“Right. I need to start thinking of ways to fix this.”

My skin feels impossibly hot under my sister’s gaze. “We need to start thinking of ways to fix this,” she corrects me. “Maybe we…could ask Dad for the—”
“No! We didn’t need his money to build this business. We’re certainly not going to let him bail us out.”
Annoyance flickers across her face. “I figured you’d say that. Anyway, my only other solution to make an immediate dent is to maybe go to the bank and get a home equity line of credit on my house.”
The pounding of my heartbeat grows louder in my ears. “I’m not going to let you risk your home over something that wasn’t your fault.” I blow out my cheeks and drop my head into my hands, kneading small circles over my racing pulse. “I just need to think.”
I need to get out of here.
After a few seconds, trying not to let my head explode, I get to my feet. I shuffle down the hallway to my bedroom to slip on flip-flops and throw on my red coat. When I get back to the living room, I rummage around for my keys and phone then stuff them in my pocket. I try unsuccessfully to ignore my sister’s imploring gaze latched on to my every move.
“Where are you going?” There’s desperation, worry blended in the grooves of her tone.
“Right now, I just need to get out of here for a bit. Clear my head.” My hand won’t turn the knob, though. So, I’m just standing here, immobile. Staring at the grainy wood and blurred light shining through the coated glass of the front door. “I’m running out for coffee. Want anything?”
Black. Decaf. A sprinkle of cinnamon.
I know it by heart like we know everything about each other. We’re sisters. We’re supposed to know the tiny details—we’re supposed to be able to talk through anything…

Would you say this book showcases your writing style or is it a departure for you?

Monopolove showcases my writing style in the best way possible. It’s a fun, flirty romance between two people on the brink of self-discovery and love. There’s heat, heart, and a handful of hijinks.

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

A chance to laugh and get lost in a bighearted, swoony read that’ll make them forget about life’s hang-ups for a couple of hours.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I’m in the crosshairs of writing my new Through the Grapevine series and promoting my Love & Games series. The good news: I’ve got lots of books to write. The great news: I’ve got lots of books coming, starting this year through 2025!

Love & Games Series – All is fair in love and board games.
April 6, 2023 – Monopolove
July 6, 2023 – Trivialized Pursuit
October 12, 2023 – Clued in Christmas

Terms & Conditions Series – Love & Law
Fall 2023 – The Friendship Contract Audiobook
Fall 2023 – Book Two

All Mixed Up Series
2024 – Mixed Signals, Mixed Match, and Mixed Emotions Audiobooks

Through the Grapevine Series – Love, roots, and wine.

Spring 2024 – Book One
Summer 2024 – Book Two
Fall/Winter 2024 – Book Three
Spring 2025 – Book Four

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: An ebook copy of Monopolove + 3 Tule ebooks

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Which Monopo-lingo word could you see yourself using? A) Hasbrothers B) Hasbromance C) Hasbroke D) Monopolove E) All of the above.

 
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Excerpt from Monopolove:

DECLAN

I check my messages once more to confirm the meeting time. Sure enough, the Realtor my best friend, Murph, referred to help me sell my late grandfather’s bungalow was supposed to meet me here at Java Joy Coffeehouse—her choice—at noon.
It’s almost one.
Who plans a business meeting on New Year’s Day anyway?
I swirl the last of the coffee around in my cup, finishing it off. Just as I stand to go, my phone vibrates in my hand. One look at the screen, I feel my shoulders drag downward.
Thank God I have my earbuds.
“Happy New Year, Mom,” I answer as I swivel on the hard, wooden barstool to glance past the line to the entrance.
Still no sign of the Realtor.
“Please tell me you went out with Murph last night for a good time.” She starts in on me right away. “I hate to think of you, all the way out there in San Diego, cooped up in Pop’s drafty old house by yourself. Thirty-five is still young. Maybe you’ll try again…” Mom trails off.
The end of that sentence has nothing to do with Pop’s house. Forgive and forget echoes in her silence—maybe I’ll try my hand at love again while I’m here for the next four to five weeks deciding whether to make this stay permanent.
“I’m fine.” I hear the short, stilted tone to my voice and chew my bottom lip before starting again without the edge. “I caught the countdown on TV while I worked on the kitchen backsplash. The house is really shaping up.” Mostly. The jury’s still out on the water stain the plumber discovered in Pop’s bedroom on the shared wall with the bathroom.
She sighs into the phone, and I sense where this is going.
“Listen, I know you’d love for me to hire someone to complete the renovations, so I can get back to Vegas, but I’m in no rush. My patients are in good hands, and I’m enjoying being at Pop’s. It’s not a sprawling mansion, but there are so many memories in that place, and it’s got great bones.”
“I know, honey. You used to love being there with Pop every summer. It’s a money pit, though. It’s going to take a lot more than a fresh coat of paint and new carpet. Just fix it up as best you can and list it quickly.”
“I don’t know. The house needs some fixing up, but San Diego is growing on me. I promise, if there’s anything I can’t handle, I’ll hire someone. Otherwise, I’d rather take my time. To be honest,” I add, “it’s nice knowing I won’t run into anyone here.”
And see the pity on their faces.
“All right, I won’t push. Did I tell you I was at Target the other day…?”
Seriously?
As if getting stood up by a Realtor on New Year’s Day isn’t bad enough. Mom goes on about redecorating her bedroom, her bunches of ideas to freshen up Pop’s bungalow. I get it. The need to overhaul everything, start fresh. For me, these few weeks are a chance to reevaluate what I want in life. Consider Murph’s offer to join his ear, nose, and throat practice and build a patient list in a new city… Fix up a home with my own two hands. I’m excited about the challenges.
Even if I am a little overwhelmed.
Isn’t that what life is about? Finding something exciting to look forward to? Choices and chances? The odds don’t always end up in my favor but I’m still playing the game. I don’t have to make any final decisions now. When I’m finished with the renovations, I’ll decide whether to stay or sell.
The line goes quiet, and I sense the missed question in Mom’s silence.
“Yeah,” I say, not sure what I’m agreeing to as I tap the phone to check my messages once more. Still nothing from the Realtor.
Then a notification drops from the top of the screen. It’s from Anytime Restoration. “I’m running about fifteen minutes behind, but I’ll be there by two at the latest.”
All this focus on the Realtor running late, I nearly forgot I’d made an appointment with a restoration company to check out the water damage at Pop’s.
“Well, all right. I just wanted to check in on you. I’ll let you get back to whatever it is you’re doing…” She hesitates, though.
“What is it, Mom?”
I tip back my cup, remembering I already finished my coffee.
She says nothing for a beat. Then, “I meant to tell you, Penelope asked about you the other day…”
My pulse slams in my neck. Bile rises in my throat until I’m choking on anger. It’s the unmistakable hope I’ve tried over and again to bury, but it’s like a recurring virus.
It keeps coming back.
“Why does she want to know how I’m doing?” I ask.
“For what it’s worth, she looked remorseful.” Mom is always about diplomacy, leaving an opening for reconciliation, another chance to mend fences. But there’s nothing to fix.
I don’t want to hear this. It’s why I put an entire state between Penelope and me. Why I’m considering relocating permanently.
“She’s with someone else. I’ve moved on.” I’m trying to.
After Mom hangs up, I slide the phone back into my pocket. I grab my jacket and empty cup, scanning the room for the nearest trash can and spotting one near the community board to the right of the register.
As I stride over to toss my cup in the bin, a familiar face on the board comes into view: Mr. Moneybags, the Monopoly mascot. I blink a few times to make sure it’s not just dry contacts blurring my vision. Every time I see the cartoon character, excitement flutters in my belly. Memories of Pop and me building imaginary empires by the fireplace reel across my mind as I reach up to drag my fingers over the curled edges of the thin paper. At the top of the flyer, there’s a bold black headline.
20TH ANNUAL MONOPOLY TOURNAMENT—SATURDAY, MARCH 30
See website for details.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Book Info:

Monopoly (n.) 1) the exclusive possession, control, or exercise of something. 2) a classic board game with all the answers to Harper Sloane’s problems.

If Harper Sloane has learned anything, it’s that you can’t throw money at a problem. So, when she learns the beloved game store she owns with her sister and best friend is struggling, instead of mortgaging her pride and grabbing the pile of uncashed checks from her absentee father, she rolls up her sleeves and enters the city’s Monopoly tournament to save Love & Games.

Declan Wilde is a handsome, new-in-town doctor looking to set his karma straight. When he pays for Harper’s coffee, she’s horrified. She quickly repays her debt—with interest—to prove she doesn’t need his charity. But when Declan turns up at Love & Games to enter the tournament, refusing his business isn’t an option.

Forced to see each other at every practice, the tension starts to feel like a challenge beyond the game board. As they go over strategies for play, is their rivalry still just enemies playing games, or has it turned into something more?

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Meet the Author:

Mia Heintzelman is a polka-dot-wearing, horror movie lover, who always has a book and a to-do list in her purse. When she isn’t busy writing fictional happily-ever-afters, she is likely reading, or playing board games and eating sweets with her husband and two children. She writes fun, unforgettable, more than just laughs romcoms about strong women and men with enough heart to fall for them.
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