Before You Meet August and Harlee

There’s a moment before every love story begins.

The quiet second before the spark. Before the tension. Before two people who absolutely should not fall for each other realize they’re already in too deep.

That’s where Mad Love lives right now.

Right on the edge of everything.

August and Harlee have been living in my head for a long time. Long enough that sometimes they feel less like characters and more like two stubborn people who refuse to stop arguing with each other until I get the story right.

And trust me, these two argue.

Harlee is the kind of woman who has always been capable of standing on her own. She’s ambitious, sharp, and just stubborn enough to push back when someone tries to tell her what her life should look like.

August, on the other hand, walks into a room like he already knows exactly what he’s doing there.

Confident. Charming. A little dangerous in ways that make people pay attention. The kind of man who understands the effect he has on people—and isn’t afraid to lean into it.

Naturally, putting those two people in the same orbit was never going to end quietly.

The chemistry between them is immediate. The kind that makes everyone else in the room feel like they’re interrupting something.

But Mad Love was never just about the spark between them.

It’s about what happens when two people who are used to being in control suddenly find themselves challenged by someone who sees right through them.

It’s about ambition. Growth. Boundaries. And the complicated reality that loving someone doesn’t mean you get to stop them from becoming who they’re meant to be.

I’ve always believed the best love stories aren’t about being rescued.

They’re about becoming.

Becoming braver. Becoming clearer. Becoming someone who can choose love without losing yourself in the process.

That’s the journey August and Harlee find themselves on.

And if I’ve done my job right, by the time you reach the end of their story you might find yourself asking a few questions of your own about love, ambition, and the choices we make when our lives start shifting underneath our feet.

For now, though, we’re still in that quiet moment before the story begins.

The moment right before everything changes.

As Mad Love gets closer to release, I’m opening a small number of Advance Reader Copies (ARCs) for early readers who want to step into the story before it officially launches.

If you enjoy:

• messy, passionate love stories

• ambitious heroines

• powerful chemistry

• and characters who feel a little too real

you might be exactly the kind of reader I’d love to have on this journey.

You can sign up for ARC opportunities through my reader list below.

I can’t wait for you to meet August and Harlee.

—From Karma, With Love

A Little Ditty About Mad Love

“I didn’t mean to write a book about falling apart — but that’s how all the best love stories start.”

I didn’t set out to become this author. I’ve been writing since I was a kid—wild little worlds that didn’t make sense and somehow meant everything. In fourth grade, I entered a school contest with a book about deforestation (tiny me saving the rainforest with a stapled spine and big feelings). That’s where I fell in love with storytelling: asking “what if,” poking holes, and making something honest out of a mess.

Mad Love started with a different kind of mess. Real life. The breakup you don’t post about. I wrote because my heart was loud and I needed somewhere to put it. The characters showed up first—half-whispers at 2 a.m., full conversations by sunrise. The heroine had been orbiting me for years, a woman who takes on more than she should and still finds a way to glow. The hero? He changed under my hands. He evolved from a man I couldn’t quite trust into a hero even I didn’t expect—steady where it counts, flawed where it matters, and somehow exactly the friction Harlee needed.

The question that wouldn’t stop knocking was stubborn and straightforward: What if two people mirrored everything I was learning about love, boundaries, and vulnerability—and still chose each other? What if they didn’t tidy themselves up first? What if love wasn’t a reward for perfection, but the catalyst for truth?

If I’m honest, the scariest part wasn’t writing the complex scenes—it was believing anyone would care. Is it good enough? Am I good enough? Hitting “save” is safe. Hitting “share” is a dare.

And the complex scenes were… complex. The ones that require you to bleed on purpose. I remember staring at the cursor the day I wrote the antagonist. I didn’t want to be the “bitter, man-hating” trope. I wanted to tell the truth. To show the subtle ways harm hides in charm; to climb inside the logic of a cheater, an abuser, a liar—and make it unmistakable without preaching. Writing that was ugly-beautiful. It felt like closure for every woman I love, for every version of me that swallowed red flags and called it romance. On the page, I had to ask myself out loud:
Why do I accept love I don’t deserve? Why do I believe words over patterns? Why do I choose the storm and then call it fate?

People always ask for a line I almost cut. Here’s the truth: it was never just one line. I am a lover of details. I write from both the 3,000-foot view and the 3-inch view, because life exists in both. Mad Love once ballooned past 500k words (I know. You’re welcome). I trimmed whole scenes I adored, paragraphs I wrote at 3 a.m. with tear-salty tea and a playlist on loop. But the reason I fight for detail is simple: our love lives are the journey, not the destination. If we all ended up with our first crush, we’d have no story—just a prologue.

Somewhere in the drafting, my ideas about love shifted. Boundaries stopped feeling like walls and started reading like invitations. Vulnerability became less about confession and more about clarity. And the tropes? They shapeshifted. This story began as a poem in a college workshop, flirted with self-help, wandered into discovery, and then landed on the idea of “having it all.” Because why can’t we have both—desire and peace, accountability and softness, a partner and our whole self?

If Mad Love were a feeling, it would be yellow.
A color that hums.
A scent like fresh, clean air after weeks of rain.
A temperature like sunlight on your cheeks in July—warm enough to make you close your eyes and remember yourself.

Writing this book didn’t fix me. It changed me. It made me braver about telling the truth and kinder about how long it can take to reveal the truth. Harlee and August are my “what if”—two people who learn to want boldly and choose carefully. Two people who don’t perform love; they practice it.

If you want to feel what I felt writing it, start here: Mad Love: The Soundtrack.

From Karma, with love. 💛

Welcome To The Madhouse

Hey girl, hey —

If you’ve somehow stumbled into this little corner of the internet, hi. I’m Karma. Some of you might know me from my characters, some from BookTok, and some are probably just nosy (love that for you). Either way, welcome. You’re officially inside the world of Karma Monroe — where love is messy, women are magic, and happy endings come with a side of emotional damage and soft redemption.

I started writing because I couldn’t find enough stories that sounded like the women I knew, the ones who laugh too loud, love too hard, and still manage to hold it all together when the world tries to unravel them. I wanted stories where we get to be complicated and desirable at the same time. Where softness isn’t a weakness, and strength doesn’t mean suffering in silence.

So that’s what I write. Stories about women who save themselves, find their peace, and still get laid in the process.

The truth is, I didn’t always think I’d share my work. These stories started as therapy: quiet, stolen moments between raising a daughter, working, and trying to remember who I was outside of everyone else’s expectations. But then the words grew louder. The characters became real. And somewhere between heartbreak and healing, I realized that maybe somebody else needed these stories too.

So here we are.

My first story, Mad Love, was written for the women who keep loving even when it hurts, a tribute to desire, identity, and rebirth. Love Notes continues that journey, tracing what it means to find stillness after the storm. These aren’t fairy tales; they’re fragments of truth — messy, healing, and deeply human.

Here, on this blog, you’ll find a mix of everything that makes up the Karma Monroe universe:

✨ Writing updates and behind-the-scenes notes
☕ Thoughts on storytelling, love, and womanhood
🎧 Playlists, sneak peeks, and maybe a few unfiltered confessions

This space is for us: the readers, dreamers, lovers, and overthinkers who believe in the kind of love that’s worth the mess.

So, grab a cup of something warm (or a glass of something stronger), get comfortable, and stay awhile. I’m so glad you’re here.

From Karma, With Love 💕

Follow me on IG: @author.k.monroe
and TikTok for more behind-the-scenes chaos.