HOSTED BY N.N. LIGHT’S BOOK HEAVEN
Apr 02, 2026
Title: Gene Donor: Found Fatherhood Romantic Suspense
Author: Claudia J. Severin
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Book Blurb:
She couldn’t imagine falling in love with a politician. Until she met him.
Kane Cullen seizes her big break—a lucrative contract to uncover the hidden crimes of Washington DC’s hottest new congressman, if only she can keep her mind on the mission, and not his broad shoulders, square jaw, hazel eyes, and bold braids. Exposing this bad boy is her only hope to revive her circling-the-drain career in investigative journalism.
Representative Waring White Feathers keeps a low profile, quietly attracting followers and towing the party line. He must avoid even a breath of scandal after his predecessor was ejected from office. At best, he knows his job security has a two-year shelf life. Yet when a charming reporter requests hours of his time for a series of interviews, he sees a golden opportunity to spruce up his public image and stale dating life.
When Kane’s daughter goes to work for Waring and convinces him to take a DNA test, the anonymous donations he made decades earlier pop up to haunt him. On top of that, his former chief-of-staff lies to the FBI to frame him, and defamatory social media posts and deep fake podcasts sprout up like weeds. Who’s behind this smear campaign? Could the woman he’s fallen for be in cahoots with a powerful, vindictive enemy operating behind the political scene? When the attacks turn violent, this peace-loving beta hero defends his own.
Enjoy reading Gene Donor, a perfectly patriotic love story with ribbons of suspense connecting the secrets of a found family that knows no end.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER FOUR: KANE
Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Two weeks later
I hadn’t told Charity I’d be coming home tonight. I’d surprise her with my early arrival. Her car wasn’t in the driveway, so I took my usual spot in the two-car garage. When I entered my mid-1970s-era house, I could see she hadn’t straightened up her kitchen clutter. Takeout containers and dirty dishes littered the counters. How old do children have to be when they realize they should clean up their own messes? Maybe she’ll never learn, living in my place.
After grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, I wandered into the dining room to sort through the mail she’d accumulated on the table, but my attention leaped to a legal-sized envelope that I hadn’t seen for a long time. I recalled retrieving it from its secure hiding place only once about ten years ago.
Bright Horizons Clinic was stamped on the upper left corner of the envelope. In the center of the packet was a client identification number, which I had committed to memory twenty-four years ago. Angst filled my gut seeing this gold nine-by-twelve package, as if all my heartbreak and joy were folded neatly within its paper casing.
I settled into one of the four walnut chairs at the table. The rugged table and chairs were a gift from my parents when Brian and I started a family. I ran my fingers over the smooth laminate finish of the table. How many meals had I served at this table? Not nearly as many since Brian moved on. The table had held up well, much better than my marriage.
I sprayed open my can of pop, my gaze drifting back to the envelope across from me. What was it doing here instead of in a storage box on my closet shelf? Charity must have been looking at it. I’d shown it to her during that fateful talk when she was thirteen, explaining how her father had left us. Wanting to reveal all the painful truths at once, I also showed her Brian Kettelhut had not actually been her biological father, that his low sperm count had driven us to this clinic, where our infertility nightmare had ended.
I reached across the table and snatched up the envelope, dumping out its contents. I read my name and Brian’s name at the top of the form. Next was a donor’s identification number, physical description, and medical history. I’d read that information over and over, marveling at the miracle that resulted in my pregnancy and later my baby, my precocious child, who became my independent teenager. In my gratitude, I’d studied the two photographs they included of the donor as a child. The photos! They’re not here. Why did Charity take the photos?
“Mom! You’re back,” my daughter sang out as she unlocked the front door, swinging her backpack.
I stuffed the papers back into the envelope. But I had nothing to hide. This was my property, not hers. She set down her backpack, giving me a one-armed hug around my neck, and took another chair.
“How was your trip? Your interviews go well?” Charity asked, taking a sip of my cold drink.
“It was okay.” I tapped my fingernail on the table. “What is this envelope doing here? Where are the photos?”
Charity stared at me for a moment. I’d seen that look before when she’d done something a mother wouldn’t condone, and she wanted to break it to me gently. “I’m kinda thirsty myself. I’m gonna get my own drink,” she said, rising. “Oh, I have some popcorn too, from that new place near the nail salon you like.”
I watched her. She was buying time. She’d turned into a ten-year-old manipulator who could charm her way out of most consequences. That always worked better on my ex-husband. When she settled back at the table with her soda and a big bowl of popcorn, she removed the paper copies of two photos from her backpack.
“I did some sleuthing. I have a college buddy who knows all about cyber-tracking and facial identification—stuff way beyond searching a name online. He helps the alumni association find people who have graduated but have not provided any forwarding information. He found these photos, these exact photos on someone’s old social media page. He showed me the profile of this sperm donor’s sister. One of these photos is a school picture, the other is the donor and his big brother.”
I looked at the familiar photos the clinic sent me over twenty years ago and compared them to a printed version of someone’s social media post, which was captioned, “Happy Birthday to my goofy little brother.” Renee Gardner posted her greeting ten years ago. Her photos did look identical to the ones sent to us by Bright Horizons.
I squinted at Charity. “Are you saying you identified the sperm donor?” This was unimaginable. “You think you found your biological father?”
“I can’t be one hundred percent sure yet. I need to convince him to do a DNA test. You might be able to help me.”
“How could I help you? You want me to reach out to him?”
“It won’t be hard. Renee Gardner’s maiden name was Lassiter. The man I’m looking for is Waring Lassiter, who now goes by Congressman Waring White Feathers.”
I sat staring at her while she placed a dozen news photos taken over the past ten years of Waring’s face in front of me. There were markings circling his eyes, brows, the distance between his eyes and nose, his mouth, teeth, and chin, all indications of some facial identification program tying these images to a geometric analysis of the boy in the grade school photo.
The man Arturo Templeton hired me to expose, to help him destroy due to some yet-to-be identified malfeasance, may be my only child’s baby daddy? I am so screwed.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
Ebook is on sale $2.99 for a limited time in early April.
B&N Gene Donor: Found Fatherhood Romantic Suspense by Claudia J. Severin | eBook | Barnes & Noble®
Kobo Gene Donor eBook by Claudia J. Severin – EPUB | Rakuten Kobo United States
Goodreads Gene Donor: Found Fatherhood Romantic Suspense by Claudia J. Severin | Goodreads
Bookbub Gene Donor: Found Fatherhood Romantic Suspense (Romancing Our Roots) by Claudia J. Severin – BookBub
What’s your favorite thing about springtime?
I much prefer spring and autumn due to the milder temperatures for working and playing outdoors. I got engaged on the first day of spring and married on the first day of autumn many years ago, so I think spring awakens a sense of romantic anticipation. The first trip to the gardening center each spring is a commitment to renewed energy and beauty.
Why is your featured book a must-read this spring?
We’re celebrating the 250th anniversary of the start of our country. What better time to enjoy a romantic novel featuring a congressman and an investigative reporter? While the story is not heavy on the politics, I dropped a few Easter eggs about compromise and paying some homage to both blue and red. It also speaks to the dangers of believing unconfirmed stories on social media, and the breakthroughs made possible by DNA testing.
Giveaway –N. N. Light’s Book Heaven
Enter to win a $100 Amazon gift card:
https://kingsumo.com/g/m88pq2m/spring-into-books-festival-giveaway
Open Internationally.
Runs April 1 – April 30, 2026.
Winner will be drawn on May 1, 2026.
Author Biography:
Claudia J. Severin is keeping it real, starting with using her own name. That doesn’t work for all authors, but she writes what she wants to read: love stories with romantic tension between the characters that are full of surprises.
Romance and mysteries were always her go-to reads as a child. Even amateur sleuth Nancy Drew drove her hot beau, Ned around in a roadster. Now she’s writing love stories with more twists than a Red Vine.
If you’re ready to swoon over hunky alpha men and root for the conquering women, join her in a sentimental journey through romantic suspense. It’s as easy as opening the book cover.