#NewRelease “Echoes of the Past” by Iris Blobel #Romance #MFRWAuthor #oneclick #smalltown

It’s finally back on the shelves ♥♥♥

“Echoes of the Past” was published a two years ago with a publisher, but it wasn’t meant to be. I’m stoked it’s back on the shelves!

Reviews were great …

And thankfully, it is now available on pre-order. Come on over, do the “one click”  – for only 99c  ♥♥

 

~~  Echoes of the Past ~~
by Iris Blobel

 

AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/2yZPHSL
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077L3HRVQ/
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B077L3HRVQ/

♥♦♥  BLURB ♥♦♥

When Connor Walsh, a business lawyer in London, receives news that his estranged father is terminally ill, he returns to Fermosa Bay, a little coastal town in Australia. With the memories of his childhood years tucked away in the back of his mind, he finds his father and kindergarten friends rallying around to remind him of the past. But he’s unprepared for the growing attraction he feels for Emily, and it doesn’t take long for Connor to feel regret that his life could have been so much different.

Emily Bradshaw has waited for over twenty years to see Connor again. And although he can’t remember her, let alone their first kiss, her childhood crush is still in full swing. Eager to pick up where they left off as children, she’s determined to enjoy the short time he is in Fermosa Bay, accepting her heart will break when he returns to his life in London.

Will the echoes of the past lure him into staying in Fermosa Bay?

♥♦♥  EXCERPT ♥♦♥

Connor Walsh leaned against the window frame with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the waves crashing against the rocks. In front of him, as wide as the horizon, was the ocean. With the clouds drifting in from the sea, the sky had turned grey and dark, and he knew there’d be even more rain coming later in the day.
He would’ve enjoyed the scene if it hadn’t reminded him of the changes in his life. He’d been back in Fermosa Bay for two days already, but the memories of the first seven years of his life which he’d spent in this small Australian coastal town were tucked away in the back of his mind. Inaccessible as it seemed. Nowadays, his life was in London and had been for the last twenty-three years. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he looked towards the harbour in the distance, and the small town in the alcove with the hilly forest in the background, where he’d spend some of his childhood years. It was truly one picturesque little place.
A noise from the other end of the house hauled him back from his thoughts, and he stepped away from the window. Since he’d decided to accept Jack’s invitation to come to Australia a few weeks earlier, he’d had visions of what he’d find here. His mother hadn’t told him much about the time she’d lived here, except about Jack owning a pub. Connor had been furious for her lack of memory, but in the end, he’d admitted to himself that it had possibly not been a time she’d like to remember.
Hence, he was surprised to find out that Jack lived in this large house just outside Fermosa Bay, on the top of the cliffs, with a view over the ocean. The house had five rooms and a small study at the back. The lounge room, with a high vaulted ceiling, had wood fire heating and a big window front. Connor had loved the house the instant he’d stepped into it.
He entered the hall, where he found his father. “Good morning, Jack.”
The old man sighed sadly. “You still can’t bring it over your heart to call me Dad?”

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#BlogTour “Forsaking Hope” by @BeverleyOakley ~~ @reviewbyCrystal

Forsaking Hope
Fair Cyprians of London
By Beverley Oakley

Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here

About the Book: 

Two years ago, she missed their secret assignation and disappeared without a trace. Now the divine “Miss Hope” is in Felix Durham’s bed – a ‘surprise cheering-up gift’ sourced by his friends from London’s most exclusive brothel. Felix is in heaven – and he wants to stay there.

So does Hope, but she can’t.

Hope Merriweather lives by a code of honour – even if she’s a prostitute.

Having sold her soul, she’s prepared to sacrifice everything else to protect what she believes in.

Even if honour – in her eyes – comes at the cost of thieving and breaking hearts. Including her own.

Available for preorder here:
~*~*~*~*~*~
Excerpt: 

Chapter One

Wilfred Hunt.
If there was a name to tip Hope into the abyss of despair she was hearing it spill from Madame Chambon’s lips now as the older woman directed Hope to take a seat in the reception room, presumably so Madame could loom oppressively over her.
With her hands on her ample, expensively padded hips, Hope’s benefactress—procuress, employer and gaoler were other monikers—sent Hope a beetling look that needed no interpreting: Regardless of Hope’s true feelings, Hope must project the required show of warmth and delight at being the chosen one.
Madame patted the side of her faux curls. Years of hot irons had reduced her hair to the texture of wool but her crowning glory these days was supplemented by the lustrous locks of those girls who dared cross her – before they were thrown back into the street from where most had come.
Nevertheless, Hope had to make her resistance clear. Surely Madame who knew her history would understand her loathing for this man, above all others. “I shan’t do it,” she whispered. There was little evidence of the willful child and wild adolescent who’d been the despair of her family. “I won’t—”
Outside, the noise of the traffic rumbling over the cobbles and the shrill calls of competing vendors settled upon the tense silence. Madame Chambon’s other girls, ranged around the sumptuously appointed room on red velvet upholstered banquettes, watched the exchange with prurient fascination. Hope knew it had been a calculated ploy of Madame’s to conduct her interview in public so that Hope would serve as an example to them.
No one crossed Madame Chambon.
The shrill cry of a fishmonger caused Madame to look pointedly out of the window. With something between a smile and a sneer, she smoothed a Marcel wave. “Is that where you plan to return, Hope? The gutter?” Her nose twitched and in the sunlight that filtered into the room, the grooves chiselled between mouth and chin were thrown into harsh relief, highlighted rather than hidden by the thick powder she used to conceal her age.
Madame Chambon’s comfort, now and into retirement, depended on obedient girls. Hope knew that as well as anyone. She’d had to bury her rebellious streak just to ensure food in her belly.
The Frenchwoman raised a chiselled brow and began to pace slowly in front of her girls. A painter with an eye for beauty would have been ecstatic at capturing such a spectacle on canvas. The discerning young man about town who visited 56 Albemarle Street was frequently rendered ecstatic by the range of delights Madame Chambon’s girls offered in addition to the visual.
“You forget yourself, Hope. I put a roof over your head and deck you out as handsomely as Mr Charles Worth ever did for his most discerning customer.” There was acid in Madame Chambon’s tone. “But for me, you’d be starving and glad of the pennies you could trade for a grubby stand-up encounter in a dark alley.” Madame Chambon thrust out her bosom and breathed through her nose, her response a calculated warning to the other girls arranged in various languid poses about the ornately decorated reception room that intransigence would not be tolerated.
“Mr Hunt has requested you.” She paused and when Hope remained silent, though her stance and expression left no one in any doubt as to her horror regarding this enforced assignation, went on. “Remember what I told you—what I tell all my girls when they first come here? The past must be forgotten the moment you step over my threshold. You are reborn, remodelled, refashioned into the most exquisite delectation of womanhood. A marquess, a prince, is well recompensed for the tidy sum he hands over in order to enjoy your sparkling wit, to converse with you in French, or if he chooses, on philosophy…to enjoy your charms…and,” she added significantly, “your gracious hospitality and tender ministrations to his needs. That is our agreement and you are no different. If Mr Hunt wishes you, Hope, to attend him at his residence then you will go.”
Faith, one of the kinder girls, patted Hope’s arm in silent solidarity. Hope didn’t expect any of them to speak up in her defence. Not when they all relied on Madame Chambon as much as she did to provide them with the necessities of life. Anything more than that was part of a strict contract that indentured a girl for life unless she was able to secure a generous benefactor to settle Madame’s severance bill. The fine clothes were part of the charade, necessary to entice a more elite clientele. Hope’s exquisite wardrobe did not belong to her though she’d have forsaken all the dupion silk and Spitalfields lace for the freedom of the gutter and to be mistress of her own destiny – and her body – if she could only be sure of a plate of gravy and potatoes every second day.
Closing her eyes, she hung her head, the carefully coiffed curls that fell forwards brushing against her tear-streaked cheeks. It was as well that they not be in evidence. Tears, weakness, vulnerability were like a red rag to a bull where Madame Chambon was concerned.
“How long…do I have to prepare myself?” She was not so stupid she couldn’t admit defeat when there was no alternative. Obduracy was beaten out of one, but tears ensured a girl got the very worst next assignment. Their clients weren’t all marquesses and princes, though they did require a very fat pocket book.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” Hope repeated it in a leaden tone, and stared at her hands, clasped in her lap; white-knuckled. As white as the rabbit-fur that edged her fashionable black-and-white striped satin cuirass. Hope had the tall, slim figure suited to the scandalously tight tie-back skirts that were all the rage, the back flowing into a train adorned with elaborate swags and trimmed with bows. She’d turned heads the length of Oxford Street as she’d promenaded along the pavement following a walk through Hyde Park earlier that afternoon. In fact, for the first time in two years, she’d almost felt happy as she’d pretended a sense of freedom in the afternoon sun, blocking her mind to the prison to which she was returning.
She drew in her breath and forced herself to be brave, knowing the punishment she’d invite for daring to speak her mind. “Please tell Mr Hunt I will see him again under sufferance.”
Madame Chambon’s voice was surprisingly caramel. “Well then, now that you have made your objection clear, Hope, you will be pleased to hear that Mr Hunt’s desires are not only motivated by fond memories of your no-doubt mutually satisfying congress. I believe he wishes to acquaint you with news of your family.”
Hope hid her shock. “I have no family.” With care, she modified her tone so it was as leaden as before though emotion roiled close to the surface.
“Not even a sister?”
Hope raised her chin. Here was the chink and Madame knew it. The woman did her research.
Aware that the other girls who surrounded her were tense with anticipation, Hope struggled not to respond. Camaraderie existed at surface level but one never knew when it might profit one to have the dirt on a fellow prostitute. It was, clearly, another reason Madame Chambon had chosen to make this conversation public.
“Mr Hunt will see you at nine tomorrow evening,” said the so-called Frenchwoman who, it was whispered, was from the gutters of Lambeth, not Paris. “At his apartments in Duke Street. Now go and prepare yourself for Lord Farrow. Married to a monolith like the venerable Lady Farrow, he likes his girls vivacious and free-spirited. There’ll be less coin in your pocket if you sully the transaction with that long face, Hope.”

~*~*~*~*~*~
Author Info: 

Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.
Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.
Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.
Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.

You can get in contact with Beverley at:

#BookBlitz “I Burned Down His House” by Jessica Frances

I Burned Down His House
Jessica Frances
(Love at First Crime #3)
Publication date: November 28th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

She burned his house down, so he lit a fire between them that she could never extinguish.

So, I burned his house down.

It was an accident.
I mean, technically, the dog did it.

Well, the dog helped me to do it.
Did I mention it was an accident?
When circumstances mean I suddenly have a new housemate,
A man who is my ultimate fantasy,
And my entire world is turned upside down by new friends,
And a dog who likes to get me into trouble,
I have to wonder how my life got so crazy.
Add in my neighbor, who is under investigation;
Some unfinished business from the past, which just won’t go away;
Interfering family, who don’t know when to stop;
And mixed signals, making me wonder if fantasies really can come true,
And you have my new, hectic, crazy life.
But, when things take a dangerous turn,
And lives are on the line,
Will we all make it through in one piece?
Or is everything destined to crumble down around us?
Who would have thought that burning down a house would change everything so much?
Then again, as some people say: there is nothing quite like love at first … crime.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Trying not to feel like a loser that I have Joey’s number memorized, I dial, hoping like hell he picks up. It has to be in the incredibly early hours of morning, so there is every chance, if he hasn’t come home yet, it’s because he’s out with someone and won’t answer.
After five, drawn-out, torturous rings, he finally picks up.
“What?” he grumbles. I can’t tell if I woke him up, or if he’s just annoyed to be disturbed.
“Hey, Joey, it’s Teagan—”
“Who?”
I pause, annoyed I’m so forgettable he can’t remember who he gave his house key to! “Teagan Bevon, the woman who lives next door?”
“Oh … Oh!” There is finally recognition in his voice. “Right. Look, Teags”—he sounds so distracted I don’t think he even noticed he gave me a nickname—“I’m kinda busy—”
“But—”
“—so I’ll just see you later—”
“Wait!” I cry out, afraid I will hear the dial tone any second.
“Actually, you probably won’t see me later. I’m going to be—”
“I BURNED YOUR HOUSE DOWN!” I scream into the phone and am finally met with silence. “Joey?” I whisper, fearful he already hung up.
“Can you repeat that for me?” he finally gasps out.
“I …” Now I feel nervous. “I … umm … I accidently”—I use too much emphasis on the word, making me sound extra guilty—“burned down your house.”
“Are you okay?”
My heart skips a beat. I just told this man that I burned down his house and his first thought is if I’m okay?
“Some smoke inhalation, but nothing serious. I’m so sorry about your things—”
“How about Karma?”
“Karma got out fine. She’s with the Glovers,” So … maybe she’s not okay. The almost ninety-year-old couple may not be quite at the same speed as Karma.
As he sighs in relief, my hands begin to shake again.
“Joey, I’m so sorry.”

 

Author Bio:

Jessica lives in Adelaide, South Australia. When she is not writing, you can find her reading, napping or watching excessive amounts of TV. Connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook



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#NewRelease “The Last Breath” by Leigh Lennon @4leighlennon @MoBPromos

THE LAST BREATH

The Breathless series, book 1

by Leigh Lennon

Genre: Contemporary Literary Fiction Romance

Loss is not foreign to Julia Barnett. To the outside world she is the epitome of the perfect mom. That is, until the doors of her impeccable life are closed and reality hits her square in the face. Once the leading lady in her own epic love story, she can only look back at what used to be. With an absent husband, an intrusive father, a troubled child, and an ex-fiancé that is still tied to her life, it’s no wonder Julia is grasping for air in her chaotic world.

The bruises that Julia lives with are invisible to those closest to her. She lost so much early in life, more than most could survive. Now, she grapples with resentment towards her husband because of all the empty promises he’s made. In the midst of this turmoil, test results reveal an illness she is not sure she will survive.

For Julia, it is not her life that may be cut short that consumes her, but how her family will endure without her there. As everyone rallies around Julia while she fights like hell to live, she learns that family, along with love, comes in many shapes and sizes. It is her family that gives her the strength to fight the biggest battle of her life; one she doesn’t want to lose.


Joe Barnett was a quiet man, but he felt as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He’d do anything for his parents, and he had actually done everything within his control up to this point. It was just not enough. His dreams were slipping away because being an architect was his calling in life. Though as big as those dreams were, taking care of his parents was more important to him than anything else.

Deciding to take a quick dinner break, he started to dig into a burger at his favorite watering hole. Though tonight, with work piling up, all he could have was water. No beer for him. He noticed a very attractive girl at the bar but was caught up in a soccer game and missed his opportunity. Well, he wanted more of a conversation with the pretty girl than to ask her to pass a condiment. Wanting to kick himself, he instead turned to her at a commercial break and tried to correct his rudeness with an apology. The girl was quick to smile and accepted it as he made a small joke at the expense of his sodium intake.

She immediately said, “Oh, that’s ok. I know how men are with their games. My best friend, well minus the guy thing, is just like that. You play soccer, then?” Her dark eyes were inquisitive but sad. That was something Joe knew about.

“I used to, in high school and some in college.” He looked down at her beer, “Very few girls know how good dark beer is.”

“I know right, this is the only kind of beer I can drink. My dad started me out young I guess.” She smiled. “What about you? Aren’t you a beer drinker?”

He replied, “Normally, yes, but I just stopped by tonight for a quick bite to eat. I have some work I’ve got to get done. Beer just doesn’t mix with that.”

“Oh, I get that!” The girl said. Her meek smile was enticing, and Joe needed a way to insert himself into a conversation that would go somewhere with this beautiful young woman.

“So, you just come to Irish bars and drink dark beer by yourself?” He asked trying not to look her up and down, though she was worthy of being admired. He surmised she had to be at least twenty-one by the fact she’d been drinking but didn’t look much older. They were close in age to Joe being twenty-three.

The young woman responded, “No actually I’m taking a large class load this semester, and my best friend dragged me out tonight claiming that I need some sort of break.”

“You come here often? I’m here twice a week and have never seen you.” Joe asked.

“I’ve not been here in a long time. My dad is a good friend with the owner and we’d come here for dinner every Friday night. But I was at ECU for almost two years and just transferred to Wake last semester.”

He looked at her then smiled, “You are a Demon Deacon, I’m sorry.” He said with a wink.

“Well, what ACC team did you play for then, since your allegiance lies with somewhere else?” If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought her tone was almost borderline frisky and coy.

“I was at NC State. I played soccer but wasn’t able to graduate. My dad needed help running the family business, so I came home. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Joe didn’t elaborate why his dad needed him; not wanting to burden the cute girl with his problems. “Why did you transfer colleges?” He asked, changing the subject quickly from himself.

“It’s a long story.” She quickly answered.

“Oh, I see.”

“What do you mean, you see?” She asked with a snicker.

“All long stories like that normally follow with some tragedy concerning a guy.” He could only smirk at his own words. This was fun, he was actually having fun.

She could only laugh, “Well, ok smarty pants! You think you’re so smart.”

“Where did your friend go? The friend you claim came with you?” He asked with an even more flirtatious tone in his voice. He’d been having a free-flowing conversation with this girl that he didn’t want to end. Her eyes were infectious and he couldn’t look away from them.

“That is a good question. She was going to call her boyfriend. Probably got wrapped up in a conversation.”

“So, you know my name is Joe, what about you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Julia.” She said quickly.

Leigh Lennon is mother, veteran and a wife of a cancer survivor. Originally with a degree in education, she started writing as an outlet that has led a deep passion as she wrote twelve books. Now ready to publish all of them, she lugs her computer with her as she crafts her next story. She can be found drinking coffee or wine, depending on the time of the day.

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*A sister is a gift to the heart* ~ “In Celebration of Sisters” by Trisha Faye #amreading #Sisters #grateful @texastrishafaye

Thank you, Iris, for hosting a guest blog today and helping share my exciting news about a new anthology – one celebrating and honoring sisterhood. – It’s an absolute pleasure sharing this book. I wish you many, many sales ♥
 
“A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.” — Isadora James
 

In Celebration of Sisters rejoices in the dynamics of sisters of all phases: sisters that have had a falling out and been reunited, sisters from another mother, sisters we have lost too soon, and even loving thoughts from brothers about their sisters. Overall, whether the sisters don’t see eye to eye, whether they were born from another mother, or whether they’re the best of friends, the message is as Isadora James claims: ‘sisters are a golden thread to the meaning of life.’
Come take a peek as over forty authors share their stories of sisterhood in essays, reflections, and poetry. On some you’ll laugh. On some you’ll cry. But on all, your heart will feel the warmth and love as you read the tales of sisters.
 
This anthology about sisters actually began last year. Searching for a unique gift for my mother that was about to turn eighty – who didn’t need any more knick-knacks or afghans – I thought of writing a book about mothers to dedicate to her. Alas, I knew that I couldn’t write an entire book in the short time frame I was looking at. An anthology was born, and In Celebration of Mothers was published November 2016.
Another new year rolled around, and what was on the agenda? Another anthology – this one about sisters. Over forty authors contributed essays, poems and reflections for In Celebration of Sisters. Several of them are returning authors from last year’s anthology. Do you know the best part of this whole process? It’s the new friends I’ve discovered on this writing and publishing pathway. My world is larger and richer because of these books. I hope their stories touch your heart and add richness to your life also.
 
About the Author:

Trisha Faye writes from North Texas, usually with a cat on her lap. She adores writing about people and items from the past unless she gets a chance to write about her family, which wins out over all other subjects.

You can find her at www.trishafaye.com or on Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/trisha.faye.5.

#NewRelease “Their Bond Through Jade” by Iris Blobel #Romance #MFRWAuthor #oneclick #NewZealand

It’s finally here ♥♥♥

“Their Bond through Jade” was probably the toughest story to write and at the same time is my favourite one. It was written during a time when I needed to escape reality … what a better place than New Zealand.

But it was also the story when something could go wrong with it, did go wrong.

If you stop by on a regular basis, you might remember Tiffany and Mat’s story. It is now available on pre-order. Come on over, do the “one click” and let me take you to the wonderful country of New Zealand  – for only 99c  ♥♥

 

~~  Their Bond Through Jade ~~
by Iris Blobel

 

AMAZON US: http://amzn.to/2yZPHSL
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077L3HRVQ/
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B077L3HRVQ/

♥♦♥  BLURB ♥♦♥

Pikorua, the Maori name for the symbol, is a twist that is said to symbolise the strength of the bond between two people. Mat is certain there is something between Tiffany and him.

When Tiffany Cahill opens the door to the police, memories flood her mind of the previous year and a relationship gone bad. Frightened, she calls her friend, Steve, for help, but instead a stranger answers the phone. Little does Tiffany know how much this New Zealander is going to impact her life, especially after she is assaulted only a few hours later.

Mat Apanui, the owner of a helicopter tour company in New Zealand, can’t ignore the worry in Tiffany’s voice when he answers Steve’s phone. Before he knows it, he is spending most of his business trip to Melbourne with her. Desperate to keep her safe after an attack, he invites her to stay with him in Queenstown, NZ.

With her safety at risk, how will Tiffany overcome her reservations and trust the sexy stranger enough to fly across the Tasman Sea?

♥♦♥  EXCERPT ♥♦♥

When Tiffany Cahill opened the door and laid eyes on the police officers, memories flooded back of the horrid day the year before when she’d been dragged to the police station. Everything inside her tensed as she checked the lever for the screen door to make sure it was locked. She rubbed her damp palms against her pants.
“Miss Cahill?” the male police officer asked, his dark brown eyes focussing on her.
Scared, she wasn’t able to find her voice, she bit her lip and simply nodded.
“Miss Tiffany Cahill?” the female, and younger, officer asked.
Tiffany nodded again. If she focussed on the officer’s flaming red hair beneath her cap, she wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. But she allowed herself a cautious peek at the officers’ faces.
Their expressions were unreadable, which was worrying.
“I’m Senior Constable Jones. This is Sergeant Harris.” The officer paused for a moment. “We would like to ask you a couple of questions in regard to Thomas Terrill.”
“Who?” Tiffany asked, hardly above a whisper. Her whole body shook, and she knew she had to sit down soon or she’d faint.
“Thomas Terrill,” Jones repeated. “He was up on charges last year for the possession of drugs. The file states you were involved—”
“There’s no way I’ll come with you.” Her voice was louder than intended, panic rising within her. “You can’t make me—”
“Miss Cahill,” Jones said with a calm voice.
“We’re not here to take you with us, but to ask you a few questions,” Sergeant Harris explained, pulling out a little notepad from his shirt pocket, opening it with an expert snap. “Is there anybody with you at home?”
Tiffany frowned as she shook her head. Anxiety raced through the pit of her stomach, and she had to resist the urge to step back to shut the door.
“Anybody you can call?”
His voice was soothing, and when Tiffany met his eyes through the screen door, she noticed something that conveyed trust. And there was a need inside her to trust him, yet every fibre in her told her to not open the door. Never again would she let the police take her to the station and treat her like a criminal.
She bit her lip again, desperate to figure out whom to call, when she replied, “My brother.”
Harris nodded. “Thomas Terrill was charged with possession of drugs last year. You are noted as a witness.” He paused, checked his little notepad, and continued, “He’s also known as Hudson Ford.”
Leaning her head against the door, Tiffany took a deep breath to steady herself.
“Are you okay, Miss Cahill?” Harris asked.
“Please open the door,” Jones requested.
Holding up her hand, Tiffany replied, “I haven’t seen him since last year. I have nothing to do with whatever trouble he’s in.” Her entire body trembled, anxiety rushing through her like a tidal wave. She took another two deep breaths before standing straight to meet Harris’ gaze.
He searched her eyes before he assented with a nod and held out a business card. “We need to talk to you. I can assure you you’re not in trouble, but we need your help.” He squeezed the card into the small gap of the doorframe. “This is my number. Please call in when you have somebody with you, and we can have a talk.”

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Marissa’s home was her haven, until Riley invaded her space “Blue As Sapphires” by @ConstanceBretes

Blue As Sapphires
by Constance Bretes 

Blurb:
Escaping from her abusive ex-husband, Marissa Simpson returns to her hometown to start over. She spends her days working at the local jewelry store, and the rest of her time is dedicated to mining along Red Rock River, searching for precious gems. Marissa has no intention of getting involved with another man, or with the community she left behind all those years ago. That is until Riley McCade shows up.

 Riley is the Sheriff of Quartz County. He loves his community and goes out of his way to protect and serve. When he meets up with Marissa, he’s bound and determined to get to know her even though she insists she’s not interested.
The more Riley learns about Marissa’s past, the more he concludes that she may be in danger. When her ex-husband shows up, can Riley protect her? And can he earn her love in the process?
Content Warning: contains some sexual content

 

Excerpt:
“Hello, Sheriff. What can I do for you today?”
“I thought you would have listened to me and reconsidered trying to make this place livable again.”
“Nope, I’m going to try to make a go of it.”
Riley splayed his hand on the back of his neck and gave her a small smile. “You need to go to the county office and get an inspector to come out here and determine what needs to be taken care of before you make this your home. The house has to be up to code.”
“And if I don’t?” she said evenly.
“I’d have to serve you with a notice and remove you from the premises until the house meets the building code.”
“Really,” she replied in a low voice, taut with anger. “I guess I’ll contact the inspector tomorrow and see when I can get someone out. Is that all, Sheriff?”
“For now. Tell me, Marissa, how have you been?” Riley asked. “You haven’t been here
in a long time.”
“I’m doing well. Thank you,” she replied icily. A suggestion of annoyance hovered in her eyes.
“So, are you married? Do you have children?”
“No, and no, and why?”
It seemed to Riley that Marissa was being evasive and noncommittal. She sure was an attractive woman, maybe a little too thin, but she had a lovely face and perfect rose-colored lips. Something about her piqued his interest.
“I just wondered how you were. Is this the first time you’ve been back to Frankenburg since high school?”
“Yes.”
“What brings you back?”
“I wanted to come back.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He was aware of her annoyance, he tried to coax her into a better mood, but failed.
“Marissa, if you’d like, I could make you an offer on the twenty acres of land. That would give you enough money to buy a nice home in town and live more comfortably than you would here.”
“Why are you so bent on me leaving this house?” Marissa shot him a cold look, uncrossing her arms and squeezing her hands into fists.
“I’m not bent on anything, but I told you before I think the house is dangerous to live in.”
“Well, it’s my problem, so I’d appreciate it if you would mind your own business.”
“Why are you so testy? We’re a tight community here in Frankenburg, you know that. We look out for each other and try to help when we can. I’m only trying to be neighborly and keep you safe.”
“I’m not interested in you being neighborly and keeping me safe. I’m capable of taking care of myself, and I don’t need any help.”
“All right, Marissa, but you get that inspector out here as soon as possible.” Riley’s voice was smooth, but insistent.
“Yes, Sheriff.” She spat out the words contemptuously, did a mock salute, whirled around, walked into the house, and slammed the door in his face.

 

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About the Author:
I started writing contemporary romance and contemporary romance suspense fifteen years ago, and after multiple rejections, got my first contract for Delayed Justice, released in 2014.
I live in Basin, Montana, where three feline furballs own me and my husband, and a dog that lives next door named Sara, who thinks she also lives with the Bretes family. I love the mountains that surround my home, I love basket weaving, jewelry making, and just visiting all the folks in the small community we live in.
I currently have seven books published, and a number of other ones in various stages of edits. Right now, I’m working on a new book, called Roadside Love. A murder mystery/romance is a small town in Wyoming. I have two other books that are at the end of their editing days and now at critique partners, the books are Elkhorn In The Moonlight and Rocky River Gold. Both are small town romances.
I can be reached through the following media.

 

Be sure to visit my webpage, navigate to the News & Things, and enter the monthly rafflecopter at the bottom of the page. Join my newsletter mailing list also at that site, and you will get my newsletter, once a month and only occasionally, anytime the rest of the month, if I suddenly have something that has come up after the newsletter was sent out.

#Amreading “One Week to win Her Boss” by @BarbaraWDaille

It’s an absolute pleasure to share Barbara’s latest book with you all … and by the looks of it, it’s the perfect read for this time of the year. I can’t wait to read this one ….

 

As always, a big thanks to my friend Iris for welcoming me all the way from the U.S. I’m always happy to visit, always happy to chat, so feel free to leave comments or questions for me. And today I’m thrilled to be sharing with you my brand-new release, which debuted just this week!

 

Blurb:
Single mom Amber Barnett loves family, kids, Christmas…and unfortunately, her boss, confirmed bachelor Michael DeFranco. It’s a crush she really needs to get over. Except, when she’s temporarily forced from her apartment, her only option is to stay at Michael’s private ski lodge, where she’s the housekeeper. No problem. Her handsome boss rarely visits Snowflake Valley unexpectedly, plus he’s spending the holidays with his family. Or so she thinks…
A stormy Christmas Eve reunion leaves Michael seeking the solitude of his lodge, where he finds Amber in residence—and in trouble. Attempting to save her from her matchmaking family, he announces they’re a couple. His good deed backfires when they’re instantly included in each and every holiday event in town. So much for solitude.
Only the more time he spends with the beautiful, cheery brunette, the more he yearns to make things real between them. But he and Amber want different things, and Michael could never be the family man she’s looking for.

 

Excerpt
Nobody was perfect, not even Michael. Though he sure looked darned close…but then, how would she know? Above all else, her time with her ex had proven she couldn’t trust her judgment when it came to men.
“Come back down to Earth, Amber.” She jumped. Michael stood in front of her, too close for comfort. “When you land, tell me why you’re here. And in your pajamas.”
His almost seductive growl did funny things to her insides. Too bad the question hadn’t slipped his mind, the way she’d forgotten what she was wearing—a floor-length, fuzzy, pink bathrobe that had seen better days and floppy-eared bunny slippers no one but she and Penny had ever seen. Nothing like making a fashion statement.
Hopefully, he would be more impressed by her response to his question—as soon as she thought of one. “I…um…didn’t ask if you would mind if I stayed here—”
“That’s obvious.”
“—because I didn’t expect you to drop in.”
“Twice as obvious.” His gaze ran over her from head to toe.
Her body flooded with heat she wished she could blame on the warm robe. Why couldn’t she and Penny have had somewhere—anywhere—else to stay? “What are you doing here, by the way?”
“I own the place.”
She rolled her eyes. “You said you were spending the holidays with your family.”
“Yeah. Huge mistake,” he said, sounding grim as he looked away.
What did that mean? She wanted to know more about his upset holiday plans and his visit with his family. She’d never met them and had always been curious about why they’d never visited the lodge. Besides, she wanted to know everything there was to know about Michael.
Way to get over that crush.
Time to take control of this situation. No matter how inconvenient his arrival was for her or how unsettling his presence was to her heart, the fact was, there he stood. If she wanted to save her job—and she absolutely did—she owed him an explanation.
Or at least part of one.

 

Book Links

 

About the Author

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate. Come to think of it, she enjoys writing about those subjects, too!
Barbara wrote her first short story at the age of nine, then typed “The End” to her first novel many years later…in the eighth grade. Now she’s writing contemporary romance on a daily basis. Sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest in her writing life:  https://barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter.

#BookBlitz “A Love to Keep Me Warm” by Gina Ardito @GinaArdito @XpressoTours

 

A Love to Keep Me Warm
Gina Ardito
Publication date: November 10th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

 

 

After living in the carnival world, Polina Kominski is anxious to put down roots and build a life that includes a permanent home and, someday, a family. But first, she has to spend Christmas in Kraków, Poland to satisfy the final request of her late mother. Angry at having her strings pulled one last time, she’s resigned to follow the detailed instructions left to her, but refuses to believe the superstitions and allusions to magic Mom wants her to experience. And what’s with number eight on her mother’s itinerary, Kiss a Stranger?

To avoid facing his family’s sins, international banker, Rhys Linsey, will travel the lengths of the globe in his quest to regain the collection of ancient artifacts stolen from him years ago. When he runs into Polina on a Kraków street, he volunteers to help her experience the beauty of the holiday while sharing the history and folklore of this charming city. No matter how much she denies the existence of magic, he’s determined to prove her wrong.

Christmas in Kraków weaves a powerful spell, but Polina is running toward her future, while Rhys is stubbornly mired in the past. Can the magic of the holiday extend beyond December to bring Rhys and Polina full-circle to love?

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EXCERPT:

The day after they meet, Rhys takes Polina on a tour of Krakow and begins with the city’s origins according to legend:

“Back in the eighth century, all of this land was a village on the River Vistula, with nothing but mud huts and peace-loving people who traded goods up and down the river. Set into the deep side of Wawel Hill was a cave where a terrible dragon named Smok Wawelski slumbered.”

She stopped in mid-step on the sidewalk and tilted her head to stare at him with disbelief. “A dragon? Really?”

“Give me a chance to prove it, okay?”

He gave her a pleading look that melted her polar heart. How on earth did he plan to prove a draconian legend? Curiosity overrode common sense, and with a light laugh, she agreed. “Go for it.”

Eyes crinkled with a secret smile, he gave one simple nod. “Thank you. Generations were warned against waking the dragon and unleashing its fury upon the poor village, but one day several young boys who, like you, refused to believe the tales, strode bravely up to Wawel Hill to see the dragon for themselves. They crept into the cave and soon came upon the enormous scaly tail of the horrible beast. Well, apparently, one of the boys was so terrified, he screamed, awakening the dragon. The children turned and fled, but the damage was done, and the horrible creature soon began wreaking havoc upon all the townspeople. The dragon would come into their village, day after day, stealing the livestock and carrying off the virgins to be devoured at its leisure.

“The villagers attempted several times to kill the beast, but always failed miserably. Until one day, a shoemaker’s apprentice named Krakus mixed up a huge vat of sulfur and coated dozens of sheep with the mixture. When the sheep were ready, he led them to a grassy spot where the dragon was sure to see them. The dragon, naturally, spotted the sheep and swallowed them just as quickly. Soon the sulfur began to take its toll, and the dragon could not contain his thirst. He raced to the River Vistula and drank, but no matter how much water he swallowed, the thirst continued to burn inside him. He nearly drank the river dry until, at last, he swelled so much, he burst like a balloon. Boom!”

As Rhys’s hands flew in front of her face, Polina jumped back with a squeal of surprise.

Chuckling, he pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Nothing had ever felt so right as this man’s arm holding her close to his heart. She tilted her head at a slight angle, studying his lips, wondering how they’d taste against hers. All he had to do was bend his head forward a few inches…

“Well, of course,” he continued, apparently oblivious to her thoughts, “the village rejoiced at the dragon’s demise.”

She shook off the romantic silliness and refroze her heart. What had she been thinking? A kiss? Good God, she was behaving like her mother, acting on impulse, rather than logic. The last thing she needed was a love affair. Furrowing her brow, she took a step away from him to increase their distance then tried to refocus on his story.

“Krakus was named king and built a castle at the top of Wawel Hill where the dragon’s lair once sat. The village prospered into a city and was named Kraków in honor of their hero.”

Outside Wawel Cathedral, he stopped in front of a large stone wall where a strange collection of bones sat chained against the rock. An odd-looking snout rode above a rib cage about the size of a giant whale’s, some kind of bizarre cloven feet at the base.

“Behold,” Rhys whispered against her ear, sending delicious ripples of warm breath across her neck. “Proof. The dragon’s bones.”

Soft laughter escaped her lips. “Right. Good thing you brought me here. I wouldn’t want to waste my time on dusty old artifacts when I could see something as authentic as a dragon skeleton.”

Author Bio:

I kill houseplants. There. Now you know one of my greatest shames. I’m not boasting. I just figure that if you’re reading this, you’re looking for more than how wonderful life is as a writer. So here are a few more of my flaws:

I sing all the time. I sing in the car. In the shower. While I’m grocery shopping. And I headbop while I sing. When I’m not singing, I talk to myself. Just ignore me and move on. You get used to it after a while.

I don’t eat my vegetables. Seriously. I’d rather have a cookie.
I’m extremely fair-skinned and could burn under a 60-watt light bulb.

I can’t sleep without background noise. If it’s too dark and too quiet, all I have are my thoughts. And even *I* don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.

Don’t ask me to Zumba, line dance, or march in the parade. I have absolutely no rhythm.

Regrets. I have more than a few.

My favorite activity is sleep. I don’t clock a lot of hours, but I powernap like a Persian cat and rejuvenate within ten minutes.

I consider shopping and dining out excellent therapy for anything wrong in my life.

My feet are always cold. Always. My husband claims it’s because I’m an alien sent to Earth to destroy him. (He might be right about that.)

Coming to my house for a visit? Unless you’ve given me plenty of advance notice, be prepared. My floor will not be vacuumed, there will be dishes in my sink, and I only make my bed when I change the sheets once a week (I’m climbing back into it ASAP. Why make it?) Housecleaning is not high on my priority list. Okay, to be totally honest, it’s not on the list at all.

I can resist anything…except ice cream.

Since this is our first date, I figure I’ve revealed enough secrets for now. But if you’ve read this bio and think I might be the author for you, pick up one of my books. You won’t be disappointed.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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“Love The Wine You’re With” by Mary E. Thompson @authormet #Freeread

Love the Wine you’re with
by Mary E. Thompson

Blurb

He could be just what she needs…

Alyssa Wright has one goal before she leaves for co

llege. She refuses to go carrying her v-card. She just has to find someone to give it to in the next six weeks.

When she runs into Jake Monroe, almost literally, she knows he’s different. She thinks about him constantly, and not in the way she’s thought about any other guy.

She might be what he’s looking for…

Between his new job and helping his best friend’s widow, Jake doesn’t have time for romance. But there’s something about Alyssa he can’t resist. He’s torn between the light Alyssa brings to his world and the promise he made to his best friend.

Is it enough to keep them together… forever?

What they want doesn’t matter. There’s a ticking clock, counting down the days until Alyssa leaves. Maybe for good.

Excerpt

“Come here,” he said gently, reaching for her. She went into his arms and rested her head on his chest, listening to the quickened beat of his heart. He was still hard, throbbing against her stomach at the same rapid pulse.

Wordlessly, his hands caressed her body. An innocent brush of hair from her neck. A simple stroke of her spine. Then a tightening of his hold on her. A lingering of his fingers on her waistband. A quickening of his breath. A need pulsing between them that neither of them could deny any longer.

Alyssa tipped her chin up to him the same moment he leaned down to claim her mouth. His kiss was different. Not gentle and sweet like the others. Possessive. Needy. He was taking ownership of her, demanding that she become his.

She met him with each stroke of passion. His hands slid down her back and cupped her ass, lifting her until she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. The breeze blew up her skirt, cooling her skin until she felt the hard fabric of his shorts pressing into her. “Oh, God,” she moaned, breaking away from their kiss. Bolts of desire shot through her, giving her the first taste of what pleasure would be like with Jake.

His lips went to her neck, feasting on the skin she never knew was so sensitive. Her hips rocked on their own, rubbing her against his erection as he devoured her neck and drove her mad. She didn’t know what she needed, but she needed something. From him. Of him.

Download for free now!

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Author Bio

Mary E. Thompson grew up loving to read, like a good little girl. Many nights she would fall asleep with the flashlight still turned on as she hid under the covers trying to finish the last few pages of a book. As an adult, the light from her ereader means she doesn’t need a flashlight, but she still stays up way too late to finish a book.
When Mary’s not reading, she’s playing with her two kids or living out her own real life romance novel with her hubby. She has a weakness for chocolate, especially when it’s paired with peanut butter, and has been known to have a bad day just because there’s no chocolate in the house. Unless there’s wine. Then everything is okay.
Mary grew up in Buffalo, New York and swears she’s the only local to never ski or snowboard. Soccer was always her sport, with a couple adventures white water rafting and skydiving to keep things interesting. Mary moved to South Carolina for college but missed Buffalo every day. Yeah, she thinks she’s crazy, too. She somehow convinced her South Carolina born and bred hubby to return to Buffalo to raise their kids and live out their lives. He’s still not sure what he was thinking.

Links

Website – http://maryethompson.com
Facebook – http://facebook.com/authormaryethompson
BookBub – http://bookbub.com/authors/mary-e-thompson
Twitter – http://twitter.com/authormet
Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/metdaisy7
Instagram – http://instagram.com/authormaryethompson
Goodreads – http://goodreads.com/maryethompson