Hanging by a Thread
Riley O'Brien & Co. #3 By: Jenna Sutton Releasing June 7, 2016 Berkley Sensation
Thirty-year-old Bebe Banerjee is desperate to get rid of two things: her fiancé and her virginity. Escaping her arranged marriage might be impossible, but she refuses to give her firsts to an entitled jerk who lives on another continent. Instead, she devises a plan that guarantees another man will get her momentous firsts. But she never imagined that man would be Cal O’Brien, the gorgeous heir to the Riley O’Brien & Co. denim empire…
Although Cal has always been fascinated by Bebe’s brilliant mind and beautiful eyes, he’s never pursued her. She can’t stand the sight of him, and every time they’re in the same room, they end up trading insults. Yet when he finds out about Bebe’s bold plan, he makes his move, unaware of her upcoming nuptials. He promises to make her firsts unforgettable, but he doesn’t know how hard it will be to forget her when their arrangement ends.
Family can be your biggest source of support and love, or the place where insults are common, and verbal abuse galore.
Bebe's life choices have rarely been hers. Her powerful family has dictated most of her life decisions, or influenced the rest. Her life has been a void of the 'normal', and most of the 'first' young people have, had been missing in her life. The pain, hurt, and harm her family had delivered to her over the years was countless, and how she had survived it, and triumphed in her life, was nothing but admirable. Some of the behavior had roots in the cultural differences, most of it has been just malice. My heart ached for her, as her mother walked all over her. Most daughter/mother relationships can be difficult, but Bebe's was pure agony. Cal's family is quite the opposite, always there to support each other, love each other, and to have each other's back, no matter what. I have loved getting to know them through the series, and grown very fond of them. It was lovely to see glimpses of their lives and relationships. Cal and Bebe have amazing chemistry between them. The sizzle in the air, when they meet, is palpable. I loved that Cal was set to not have secrets from his family, to keep their relationship open to them. As the arrangement between them was mainly physical at first, it is understandable, that the story had several sex scenes, scenes that were red-hot in nature, yet beautiful and loving. They showed the development of their relationship, their feelings, while in the arrangement, growing and deepening, and fit into the plot, not only giving it spice and heat, but deeper understanding of their love and affection towards each other. I completely got lost in the story, the families, the drama, the passion, and love. There's moments in the story that had me holding my breath in anticipation, moments that broke my heart as I was in tears, and moments that I laughed out loud. I adore the O'Brien family, the closeness they have between them. And Bebe, my heart went out to her, the mud her family, her mother, was shoveling at her, was heartbreaking, yet oddly familiar, and made her even easier to relate to. And a personal note, thank you for the epilogue, Ms Sutton, my heart was overjoyed. This is a tale that I fell in love with, the characters were likable, easy to relate to, the passion and love between Bebe and Cal was blistering, yet they also liked and respected each other, enjoyed each other's company. There's no insta anything in the story, the time that is needed, was taken, the tale covering several months, and years. I swooned, I blushed, I shed tears, and laugh, and enjoyed the San Francisco scenery ~ Five Spoons
Chaste. Untouched. Maiden. Pure. Innocent. The words that described a virgin might sound pretty, but the truth was downright ugly, at least in Bebe Banerjee’s opinion. She was convinced her virginity was the reason her heart raced, her breath seized, and her palms sweated whenever she was near Cal O’Brien.
Bebe surreptitiously studied Cal, trying to ignore the wave of lust that surged over her. If she’d had some experience between the sheets, she was sure she’d be able to handle the way he made her feel. If she had gotten naked with a few guys, maybe she wouldn’t obsess about his glacier-blue eyes and his thick, dark hair. Maybe she wouldn’t notice the way his jeans clung to his tight behind and long legs. Maybe she wouldn’t fantasize about his lips, his smile, his big hands . . . Bebe desperately wished she could just avoid him, but his little sister, Teagan, was her best friend. If she wanted to spend time with Teagan, she had to put up with Cal. She said no to a lot of Teagan’s invitations to hang out because of him, and she had to be very careful not to offend her best friend. That was why the object of her X-rated fantasies stood next to her in a club-level suite at PacBell Park. The San Francisco Giants were in the playoffs, battling against the Atlanta Braves to win the National League pennant, and Teagan had invited her to attend the game in the Riley O’Brien & Co. suite. Founded by Teagan’s great-great-grandfather, Riley O’Brien & Co. was the nation’s oldest designer and manufacturer of blue jeans. Americans had worn Rileys for nearly two centuries. In fact, Bebe was wearing a pair right now. Teagan and her brothers were involved in the day-to-day operations of Riley O’Brien & Co. She managed the company’s law department, while her oldest brother, Quinn, served as president and CEO, and Cal handled global marketing and communications. Even Quinn’s wife, Amelia, was involved in the company, heading up the women’s division. Beside her, Cal shifted slightly and took a pull on his Shiner Bock. He was close enough to touch, and she clenched her hands into fists just in case her fingers suddenly decided to act out her secret fantasies. He didn’t even look her way, and he probably wouldn’t unless he felt the need to toss an insult at her. “How was Antigua?” Cal asked, directing the question to his sister and her new husband, Nick Priest. “It was the most amazing place I’ve ever been,” Teagan said, her blue eyes shining and her glossy lips turned up in a smile. Teagan and Nick had just returned from their three-week honeymoon to the Caribbean island. Both of them were glowing from their tans and their newlywed status. “We were lucky we had our own private beach because Nick is apparently an exhibitionist,” Teagan added with a lustful gleam in her eyes. Nick was a former professional football player, and he had been voted as one of the “Sexiest Men Alive” by People magazine. With his blond hair and bright green eyes, he was gorgeous, no doubt about it. But in Bebe’s opinion, he wasn’t nearly as gorgeous as Cal. No one is as gorgeous as Cal. Nick leaned down and whispered something into Teagan’s ear, something that was obviously naughty because her face turned the color of cherries. When he straightened to his full six-five and saw her red cheeks, he chuckled. “You’re so bad,” Teagan muttered, lightly slapping Nick’s chest. In response, he grabbed her hand, hauled her up against him, and kissed her . . . with tongue. Cal made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ,” he groaned, “do you have to do that in front of me?” Teagan pulled away from Nick. “Please,” she shot back, her voice full of disgust. “Do know how many times I had to listen to my high school friends talk about you and your big—” Much to Bebe’s disappointment, Cal covered his sister’s mouth with his hand and cut off the rest of Teagan’s sentence. She tried to pull his fingers away, and finally she got free by elbowing him in the stomach. Laughing, Cal stumbled sideways into Bebe, almost knocking her over. He grabbed her forearm to steady her, his hand hot against her skin, and she gasped. Even the slightest touch from him made her pulse pound, and she tugged her arm to get away from him. Instead of releasing her, his fingers tightened. She looked up . . . way up. He was almost as tall as Nick, and he loomed over her by more than a foot. He was a little leaner than Teagan’s husband but still solid muscle. His faded Giants T-shirt showed off his broad shoulders, impressive biceps, and ropy forearms. He’d paired the shirt with ancient Rileys that fit him like a glove and well-worn boots. “Sorry about that, Cookie,” Cal apologized offhandedly. “I told you not to call me that,” she snapped, trying to jerk her arm free. She hated it when he called her Cookie, and he knew it. Of course, that was why he did it. He had come up with the nickname right after he’d found out she had a medical degree in addition to her MBA and law degree. He’d claimed it was a better moniker than Bebe since she was such a smart cookie, but she knew it wasn’t a compliment. “I thought you liked nicknames.” He smiled angelically and widened his eyes to look innocent. “You call Teagan kanya all the time.” Kanya was Bebe’s nickname for her best friend. It meant “girl” in Hindi, the native language of her Indian ancestors. She had been born and raised in the United States, but using Hindi words was one way she stayed connected to her heritage. “Teagan and I are friends,” she pointed out. He got her message loud and clear because his eyes got all squinty. “I can be friendly.” Yes, he could be friendly. In fact, he was friendly to everyone but her. He never had anything nice to say to her, and she returned the sentiment. She wasn’t sure who had struck first, probably her, but now they launched verbal missiles at each other with frequency and precision. He went out of his way to be rude and antagonistic, and she did the same. Bebe knew the real reason she acted like such a bitch around Cal. She liked him, and she didn’t want him to suspect how she really felt. She didn’t want to be the pathetic geeky girl with a crush on the hot guy. Before Cal, she had never been attracted to any man. She’d never even experienced a high school crush because she had entered the ninth grade when she was twelve and had graduated when she was fifteen. She had immediately headed off to college, and she’d obtained two bachelor’s degrees in three years. By the time she had been able to vote, she had been in her first year of medical school. She’d become accustomed to being viewed as a study partner rather than a sex partner. She wasn’t oblivious, though, and over the years, she had noticed good-looking men. But she had never felt that zing of sexual attraction until she had met Cal four years ago. She hated the way he made her feel: gauche, nervous, and overstimulated. When he was near, sounds were louder, colors were brighter, and smells were stronger. Right now, she could smell him, a panty-soaking aroma of warm male and expensive cologne. It was so delicious, she could barely concentrate on the conversation swirling around her. “Even though Antigua was amazing, I’m glad to be home,” Teagan said, ignoring Cal and Bebe’s sniping. “I missed everyone. Mom and Dad. Quinn and Amelia. Bebe. Letty.” “You didn’t miss me?” Cal asked, feigning hurt feelings. Bebe knew Teagan had intentionally excluded Cal, trying to annoy him. The O’Brien siblings teased one another mercilessly. Their relationship was so different from the one Bebe had with her older brothers. She rarely talked with Pritam and Ranjit, and when she did, they definitely didn’t tease her. They didn’t even call her Bebe. They insisted on referring to her by her full name, Bindu, which she hated. “No. I missed Kim more than I missed you,” Teagan replied, referring to the woman who did her nails at the swanky spa she frequented. Teagan’s snarky response made laughter well in Bebe’s throat. Before she could choke them back, giggles escaped her. Cal stiffened next to her, and she mentally prepared for their next verbal battle. Ready. Aim. Fire.
Jenna Sutton is a former award-winning journalist who traded fact for fiction when she began writing novels. Surprisingly, the research she conducted for her articles provided a lot of inspiration for her books.
Jenna is the author of the Riley O’Brien & Co. romances including All the Right Places and Coming Apart at the Seams. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism from Texas Christian University and a Master’s degree in Integrated Marketing Communications from Northwestern University. Jenna and her husband live in a 103-year-old house in Texas affectionately known as “The Money Pit”. You can find out more about her and her books by visiting www.jennasutton.com. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
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Books & Spoons Virtual Tour Stop DIDN'T YOU PROMISE BY AMBER BARDAN with excerpt & giveaway22/6/2016
Didn’t You Promise
Bad for You #2 By: Amber Bardan Releasing June 13, 2016 Carina Press
He always keeps his promises.
Angelina has sacrificed everything to be with the man she loves. Forced to abandon her family, and even her own identity, Angelina depends on Haithem as never before. With no more secrets between them, Haithem has become the source of all her needs. Sexually. Emotionally. But not even Haithem can hide forever. While they're sneaking across borders, avoiding persecution from everyone who would see Haithem dead and his prototype stolen, the media fascination surrounding Angelina's disappearance continues to mount. For Angelina, it's a brutal reminder of what she's left behind and the pain she's caused to those who believe her dead or held against her will. To Haithem, it's a warning: he stands to lose the one person left in his life he loves beyond measure. The hunt won't be called off until his enemies have destroyed him, his life's work and everyone involved—including Angelina. He has only one choice. He's promised to protect her. And Haithem always keeps his promises.
“Did you do everything I asked?”
Avner’s jaw set. “Of course I did.” “I needed to ask—” I held his gaze tighter than I’d held his shoulder “—because I need you to look at me now, and tell me that if the time comes you’ll do what has to be done.” He took a breath, then his jaw pulsed. There were few people close to me I didn’t fully own. Avner might have been my only true friend. The only man with whom I’d argue. We’d argued about this. He’d refused my requests. Avner had the balls for that. Perhaps that’s what made him so crucial. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” My spine relaxed a fraction. “I still say there are too many things that could go wrong, Haithem.” My gaze drifted to the door once more. Yes, there were. Far too many things that could go wrong with this plan. The one contingency I’d never repeated to Angelina. One that could only work if she never suspected. It’d destroy her, but if we ever found ourselves on that road, that terrible one-way road, we’d already be beyond salvation. Nothing, no part of all the good I could only hope would vindicate our actions, trumped her. She had to survive me. If everything went to hell, I could live in hell, as long as she was all right. She’d never forgive me if I had to go through with this. I’d told too many lies already. Even this planning broke the honesty keeping us together after everything I’d done. But better to be with and not need, then need and be without. So I planned for the worst. “Do you have that other thing I asked for?” “Right here.” Avner patted his breast pocket. The door opened, and Angelina stepped through. It took work to keep the air in my lungs. She’d never been sexier. Not because she appeared different—I’d love nothing more than to strip that disguise away—it was the way she looked at me. Angelina looked at me the way a woman does who knew and owned her own self. She knew and owned me too. Yet, I couldn’t help the questions clenching my guts—what had it cost to get us here? How much of her innocence had been lost? And how much more was yet to be broken.
After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber Bardan finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her time in a coffee-fueled adrenaline haze, writing romance with a thriller edge.
She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by. Amber is an award winning writer, Amazon Bestselling Author, and member of Romance Writers of Australia, Melbourne Romance Writers Guild, and Writers Victoria. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
Man of Action
Omega Sector: Critical Response #4 By: Janie Crouch Releasing June 21, 2016 Print July 1, 2016 Ebook Harlequin Intrigue
He was a man of action—especially when it came to protecting his new undercover partner…
At nineteen, Andrea Gordon's life was forever changed. After proving herself instrumental in a bank hostage crisis, she became one of Omega Sector's top agents. Four years later, her skill at reading people is unrivaled—until she meets fellow profiler Brandon Han. Paired together to track a serial killer who has been targeting at-risk women, the two become entangled beyond the case. Their mutual attraction deepens as they get closer to the truth. But when Andrea's own sordid past surfaces, they will both be forced to question everything about the assignment…and each other.
Amazing, psychological thriller, that not only shows the darker side of human beings, but what light and joy, balance, can be found in a loving, accepting relationship.
With this story, Janie Crouch shows again her diversity as an author. The suspense is as intense as always, but the source of the tension comes from the psychological aspects, the fear and threat of the serial killer, the escaped, dangerous prisoner, the burden of old memories, past that keeps showing up, the fear of acceptance when secrets are revealed, the strain is palpable, the pressure is constant. The images painted by the author are sharp and telling, memorable, and alerting. The attitude of the community towards the killings, so saddening, brutal, but lifelike, that the girls didn't matter, because who they were, gave me one of the most somber moments in the tale. I love the characters in the story, all of them, even the secondary cast, are complex, deep, and have layers to them. Layers, that are revealed like peeling an onion, keeping the intensity high, the secrets revealed shocking. Andrea's past, everything she had to overcome, what she had made out of her life, you can't help but admire and adore her spunk, determination, desire to survive, and excel. Brandon can come off as a heel, his attitude isn't always the best, his preconceived assumptions frustrating, but he does admit his own shortcomings, takes ownership in his attitude, and grows in understanding of Andrea, and others with similar situations. There are so many moments between Andrea and Brandon, that took my breath away. Them, face to face communicating, is vivid, energetic, even fierce, making me wait in aspiration of the outcome. The budding relationship is fragile, the feelings are raw, the pain of rejection is real, but the joy, tenderness, and support, protectiveness, all come to the stage, giving redemption. The fact that they are both professionals in human behavior, and how they could use the skills, not only in the case at hand, but with dealing with people around them, with each other, gave another dimension to the tale. "This is some seriously dark stuff, pretty amazing story" - were my initial thoughts as I finish the book, on one reading. The Omega Series has blown my mind, book after book. They are easily read as stand alone stories, this especially, but I wouldn't miss any of them, if you are a romantic suspense fan, or enjoy a story with developed characters, intense situations, and life threatening danger. ~ Five Spoons
This whole thing was a terrible idea. Going back to Buckeye? Terrible. Going back with the likes of Brandon Han? Even worse. The plane hit some turbulence at thirty-five thousand feet, as if nodding in agreement with Andrea’s conclusion.
Brandon didn’t want to work with her on the case. He’d made that abundantly clear in Steve’s office. She wanted to assume it was her fault, that he knew about her shortcomings and lack of education as an Omega consultant, but forced herself to stop. He’d mentioned liking to work alone. She could understand that, too. Andrea liked working alone, but for different reasons. Brandon’s irritation had been pretty tangible when she’d sat down next to him at the airport. It had just grown as they waited for their flight, first when she’d mentioned him being complicated, then when they were both looking through the case files. By the time they got on the plane, about an hour after their scheduled departure time, Brandon was hardly even talking to her. He was mad—she had no idea why—and she was awkward—as usual around someone she was so attracted to. Good times. Andrea tried to pretend she was reading the files when he handed them to her, but she wasn’t. She knew better than to even try. Her dyslexia made reading simple books difficult, although she had learned some exercises to help with that. But reading handwritten notes and case files often written in different fonts and sizes—that pretty much just led to a headache and frustration. She’d had an extra hour at her apartment so she’d used the special software on her computer to scan a few pages so they could be converted into audio clips. She’d found that listening worked much better for her than trying to read. Unfortunately she hadn’t had enough time to scan all the files as she normally would. Listening to the files on audio clips had just made Brandon more irritated. Andrea had no idea what to do about that, so she ignored it. She would listen to the clips she had, then spend this evening—all night if she had to—reading through the files in her room, when she was alone and it was quiet. She refused to go into that meeting with the local police tomorrow unprepared. She didn’t want to go back there at all. If it wasn’t for Steve asking her to go, Andrea wouldn’t have done it, serial killer or not. Maybe they wouldn’t run into anyone she knew. Or maybe the people in Buckeye wouldn’t recognize her. She’d gone to great lengths to look nothing like the girl who had worked at Jaguar’s. Her blond hair was shorter, cut in a flattering bob; her makeup was tasteful. She’d learned how to dress and present herself in a professional manner. She doubted her own aunt and uncle would recognize her. Not that she planned to drop in on them. She hadn’t seen them since the last time her uncle, in a drunken stupor again, had awakened her with a backhand that had sent her sprawling from her bed to the floor when she was seventeen. Another punch had sent her hurling into a glass table. She’d gotten away from him and hidden that night, wrapping her cut arm in a T-shirt. The next morning she’d told her aunt, who’d looked the other way again during all the commotion, that she was going to school. Andrea hadn’t gone to school. And she hadn’t gone back home. Ever again. She hadn’t gone far, just to the other side of the town she’d only ever known as home, but they hadn’t come looking for her. Had probably been relieved that she’d left. So yeah, no joyous homecoming in Buckeye.
Nominated for the 2014 & 2015 Romantic Times Reviewer's Choice Award, and a finalist in multiple other Romance literary awards, Janie Crouch loves to read – almost exclusively romance – and has been doing so since middle school. She cut her teeth on Harlequin (Mills & Boon) Romances when she lived in Wales, UK as a preteen, then moved on to a passion for romantic suspense as an adult.
Janie recently relocated with her husband and four children to Germany (due to her husband's job as support for the U.S. Military), after living in Virginia for nearly 20 years. When she’s not listening to the voices in her head (and even when she is), she enjoys traveling, long-distance running, movie-watching, knitting and adventure (obstacle) racing. She teaches online communication classes for an American college part time, and writes full time. Most of all, she loves to laugh and smile and count her blessings. And her blessings are many. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
From Fake to Forever
By: Jennifer Shirk Releasing June 6, 2016 Entangled Bliss
Sandra Moyer’s preschool is struggling, so when her sister suggests allowing a super-famous actor to research his latest role there, she reluctantly agrees. Except the actor turns out to be Ben Capshaw—a playboy who’s never serious, always joking around, and who knows zero about kids or being a parent. Case in point: his involvement in the untimely death of the preschool’s class pet…
Ben is enjoying teaching more than he thought he would, but that doesn’t mean he’s looking for a permanent position. Sure, he’s ready for more serious movie roles and less goofing off, but the buttoned-up, beautiful Sandra and her young daughter are more than he bargained for. Plus, Sandra still won’t trust him—what if it’s all an act, research for the role? As the lines between make-believe and reality blur, Ben will have to decide if love is worth casting aside the role of his life for a new role…that could last a lifetime. Previously released as The Role of a Lifetime - (May 2008) and has been enhanced with new material.
Ben stood up and walked over to the windows, grabbing the attention of Missy and the rest of the class. His eyes swept around the floor a few seconds, and then he finally saw it. Holy crap, how could he not? That thing was huge.
“What’s the matter, Big Bens?” he heard Missy ask. “Nothing.” Gargantuan spider, actually. But he didn’t want to announce that in case there were any squeamish kids in the room. It was one mother of an ugly insect and—now that it began to move—remarkably fast for possessing those thick little legs. Being the he-man he was, he wasn’t about to let it get away so it could boast to all its hairy little friends. So he grabbed a heavy dictionary off the shelf, aimed, and then let the book drop. “Got it!” he called out. The children shrieked. His head whipped up and around, trying to sort through the sudden mayhem. He’d had absolutely no idea ten little preschoolers had the ability to create enough noise to blow out an eardrum, but at that precise moment there was enough sound to fill a stadium. But even among the loud chatter, he heard some of the kids cry out, “Herbie!” Herbie? That thing had a name? Ben’s eyes shot to Missy for an explanation, but she just stood there like a corpse with wide eyes bulging out and a hand raised to her mouth. Oh-kay. He obviously wasn’t going to get any support in that corner. He was officially on his own. Great. Now what? He was going to make things much worse if he picked up the book and allowed the class to see the smeared-up guts of Herbie, so he simply froze, wishing for some big hook to come and yank him away. Then his wish was granted. Sandra, aka big hook, appeared at the door of the classroom with her no-nonsense line of attack that stomped out all the commotion around them. Oh, man. She was not looking happy with him, either—not that he’d seen her looking any other way. More bad timing on his part. She had a way of popping in on him when he wasn’t exactly his best. Too bad he couldn’t have screenwriters helping him out with choice lines in real life, because he could sure use a witty one now. Coming up with nothing on his own, he hiked his shoulders up at her, hoping she’d take it as a white flag being waved. However, Sandra didn’t seem ready to declare peace. “Ah, Mr. Ben, a word, please?” Uh-oh. This was bad. She was giving him an even more snotty tone than she had first used on him. He had to be more careful with what he wished for in the future. No more big hooks. Next time, he’d be much more specific and wish for a scantily clad woman with more than a significant amount of appreciation for movie stars. But one who still looked exactly like Sandra. Where did that thought come from? Sandra turned and disappeared, not waiting for his response. He supposed she thought it was automatic, a given that he’d ask how high when she said jump. But he followed her out anyway. Even the wrath of Miss Sandra was better than staring into the shocked little faces of those poor kids. He obviously needed more child training than he thought. Once they were out in the hallway, he quickly tried to make amends. “Okay, maybe I didn’t use good judgment in that particular circumstance. But I—” “Our theme this month is bugs,” Sandra informed him, pointing to the countless decorations of various bugs throughout the hall. “Are you blind or something?” Ben took in his surroundings and blinked, strangely noticing them for the very first time. Hmm. Well, what do you know about that? “Uh...no, I saw your little bug things hanging around.” “Right.” She shot him a withering glare before entering her of office. He followed her in, running a hand over the top of his head. “Okay, I didn’t know. But I didn’t commit a felony, either. Like you never killed a bug before.” “Never in front of the children.” “What are you, some kind of tree hugger? Did you see that thing? It was a gross-looking spider.” She whirled around to face him. “Yes, I know! Herbie, that gross-looking spider as you call it, is dead thanks to you.” “Now, how was I supposed to know you had some kind of freaky school mascot?” he shot back. “What kind of place are you running here, anyway? Your daughter told me there was a bug. I saw it, the thing was scary and hairy, and I reacted. As an actor, I’m used to going with my emotions.” Her arms folded tighter than a bed waiting for basic- training inspection. Her sleeveless cream-colored turtleneck accentuated her tanned, beautifully sculpted arms, and as she cocked her head, studying him—no, judging—with eyes like two deadly blue arrows, he’d never seen anyone look as captivating or as alluring in his life. And as a man—not an actor—he wanted to react to that as well.
Jennifer Shirk has a bachelor degree in pharmacy-which has in NO WAY at all helped her with her writing career. But she likes to point it out, since it shows romantic-at-hearts come in all shapes, sizes, and mind-numbing educations.
She writes sweet (and sometimes even funny) romances for Samhain Publishing, Avalon Books/Montlake Romance and now Entangled Publishing. She won third place in the RWA 2006 NYC's Kathryn Hayes Love and Laughter Contest with her first book, THE ROLE OF A LIFETIME. Recently, her novel SUNNY DAYS FOR SAM won the 2013 Golden Quill Published Authors Contest for Best Traditional Romance. Lately she's been on a serious exercise kick. But don't hold that against her. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
Jack’s House Publishing is pleased to announce its first acquisition and the June 21 publication of A Midsummer Night’s Fling, by Eliza Walker!
The show must go on, but the price of admission could be her heart.
Sick of her vagabond life in a Broadway touring company, Nicola is ready to settle down. She wants nothing more than to park her suitcase in California, put out feelers for local auditions, and leave her past firmly behind her. Too bad her past comes knocking on her door her first day home. All six-foot-three, beautiful man of her past named Max. Stupid Max. The mistake Nicola just can’t seem to stop making. Even before Nicola—fiery, quick-witted, beautiful Nicola—slams the door in his face, Max is in trouble. She will always be the one who got away. Three times. Which makes convincing her to play Titania to his Oberon a bit…awkward. Though she has zero desire to re-re-rekindle an old flame, Nicola can’t turn down the chance Max is offering: a lead role with the West Coast’s premiere Shakespeare company. But when their first rehearsal kiss disintegrates into a passionate liplock, she’s questioning her sanity and tempted to jump ship—before Max can break her heart again. Now it’s up to Max to convince her that the torch he’s been carrying is actually an eternal flame. “A magical, joyful, delightful, sexy contemporary romance by a new star in the making!” — New York Times bestselling author Marie Force
Ready? he mouthed at her.
Yes. Her eyes softened, and the tiny smile she gave him seemed to set a hook in his heart and pull. A million memories surged through him, hitting like a train into the side of a mountain. This scene was so familiar, so precious. Nicola across the stage from him, ready to spar and tease and challenge. Ready to play. Ready to be in his life again? Just do the scene, idiot. He inched his shoulders back as he eased into the physicality of Oberon, but after those stolen seconds of fussing, he still wasn’t ready. The closeness of Nicola, the potential in being near her had set his body humming in a steady buzz, which had nothing to with theater. But what the hell? The curtain was up. Judith was watching. Game on. “‘Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,’” he rumbled out, deepening his voice and adding the hint of an accent. So he’d sound all kingly and shit. He strode down the short stairs toward her. Nicola, as Titania, narrowed her eyes at him and raised one eyebrow. “‘What, jealous Oberon?’” He crossed the stage in three easy strides, invading her personal space. She stood on the step above him so he found himself face-to-face with her, close enough to kiss. She startled, jerking her head back, and he didn’t know if that was Nicola or Titania. She made to turn away from him. “‘Tarry, rash wanton.’” He slid an arm around her waist, holding her without pulling her closer. “‘Am not I thy lord?’” She cocked her head sideways, her mouth a smirking, sensual promise. “‘Then I must be thy lady.’” Yes, you are. Having her in his arms felt so right, like he’d been missing a piece of himself and not known it until he touched her again. He was near enough to see the ring of dark brown around her irises, to count the freckles scattered across her nose, to smell the spicy fruit scent of her hair. To feel her breath sigh over the skin of his face. He closed the few inches left to her mouth, but she ducked, twisting free of his arms before he could kiss her. As Oberon, he was infuriated. As Max, he was almost ridiculously disappointed. Keep your head in the work. Focus. If he blew this opportunity for her because of his overeager libido, then she would never forgive him. And he would never forgive himself for ruining yet another thing for her. Nicola continued the scene, taunting him, playing Titania as the most alluring of sirens. Rita had told them to ratchet up the sexual tension, of course, but Nicola was on exactly the same page as him. The whole scene they each found excuses to stand near the other, to touch and tickle like this was all foreplay. The chemistry between them crackled, and she obviously felt it too, getting as much of a high from this performance as he was. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparking in a way he remembered well. He could think of only one other thing the two of them had done together better than this. Don’t go there, Max. Really hard, though--heh—not to let his mind wander there as she crossed to sit on one corner of the stage and laid herself out, her lovely, petite body displayed for him to admire. They had reached the part of the scene where Titania refuses to give Oberon her adopted son. “‘I will not part with him.’” She stretched her legs out and pillowed her cheek on one hand to study him with simmering, heavy-lidded eyes. Somehow, even though Nicola sat on a bare stage in blue jeans and a white blouse, somehow she managed to appear decadent, lush, pure temptation made of sweet, supple flesh. Venus waiting in her bower for Mars to ravish her. Cleopatra inviting Antony to negotiate terms for his surrender. The sight of her was too much to resist. He maneuvered around behind her and sat. Resting an elbow on his knee, he reached forward and tucked a strand of soft brown hair behind her ear. He let his fingertip linger against the skin of her neck, and she shivered at the contact. He didn’t know if that was Nicola or just Nicola acting, but the sight had heat building low in his gut. “‘How long within this wood intend you stay?’” His line came out throatier than he’d intended, the low rasp of a desperate man. And, dammit, he was desperate. You’d think five years would have done something to dim his desire, but he found himself swamped by it, awash in images, wants. Like right now, he imagined everyone else gone. To lunch. To hell. Wherever. Didn’t matter. Just away. Then he’d be free to kiss Nicola until her mouth was swollen, to touch her skin and smell and taste her until she was trembling against him, then he’d ease her back flat on the stage and-- “‘Perchance till after Theseus’ wedding-day,’” she said, cutting into his thoughts. She tossed her head, shaking out her curtain of soft brown hair, projecting indifference, but it was a fragile façade to hide how much she wanted him to stay here with her. As Oberon, or maybe using Oberon as an excuse, Max leaned into her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her collarbone. She shivered again, the instinctive tremble of a woman who was just as turned on as he was. That wasn’t acting, or not only acting. “‘Give me that boy,’” he murmured, “‘and I will go with thee.’” Nicola swallowed, aroused heat and brittle fury burning together in her eyes. “‘Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!’” She shot to her feet, striding offstage without a backward glance, the muscles in her shoulders taut, her hands clenched into fists. Their small audience erupted in applause. Tierney even whistled. Max rolled to his feet. Nicola emerged from the stage left wings, looking shaken and pale. He tried to catch her eye, but she was staring into the audience at Judith. Gil distracted him, patting Max on the arm. “You two were wonderful together.” Tierney gave Max a rough slap on the back. “I think I just got a contact high from all the pheromones you two were pumping out.” Nicola flashed a wild look Tierney’s way, then wiped her face blank. Except her mouth, which tightened into a grimace. Max’s stomach dropped. Crap. Nicola was pissed. Her gaze slid his way, and her eyes were dark, actually smoldering with wrath. Make that really pissed. Which, the more he thought about it, pissed him off too. He’d played his part for her, and pretty damn well, all things considered. Nothing he’d done had been out of character for Oberon. Nothing had been over the line. Maybe kissing her neck was tiptoeing close to the line, but Max felt he was on the side of right there. She had a great neck. Sometimes a guy’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. For the scene, of course. Everyone froze as Judith stood, the sound of her seat flipping up oddly loud in the large theater. She was the unknown quantity here, and Max prayed she would act for the good of the show. Isabelle had been known to let her ego get in the way at times. Please, let Judith be different. Judith started down the aisle, glancing at a small notebook as she scribbled things. Tierney rolled her eyes. Gil shrank into himself, trying for invisibility. Rita twisted the silver bracelets on her arm. Nicola folded her arms and waited, cool and collected as a queen. That’s my girl. Judith stopped at the foot of the stage and, without even glancing at Nicola, said, “I’m sorry, but I need to cut this short. Ms. Charles, can you come in tomorrow to read for me again?” Max gaped. What is wrong with this lady? Sure, artistic directors were allowed to be prickly divas. They ran the show, after all. All the shows. Nicola had nailed the audition, the director wanted her, so making Nicola audition again just felt like some weird power play. Nicola worked her jaw, clearly offended but fighting to stay professional. “Of course. What time?” “No. Nonono no nono no.” Rita sliced her arm through the air. “No, Judith. That is not acceptable. We need to settle this today.” “We need a Titania,” Max put in, not glancing at Nicola as he said it. “Ms. O’Fallon, do you honestly think you’ll find someone better for our production than Nic—than Ms. Charles?” Judith’s nostrils flared, her cool gray eyes narrowing to slits. Finally, she flung her hands up. “All right. You, Nicola, come in tomorrow to sign your equity contract.” With a dramatic flair not quite on par with Isabelle’s, Judith whirled around and pretty much stormed out of the theater. Rita let out a shrill victory cry and threw herself on Nicola for a hug. Max grinned, big and goofy. He had a Titania again. He had Nicola again. Her gaze met his over Rita’s back, and Nicola stilled, her face blanking out. What the-- Nicola had the part. She should be thrilled. So why did she look like she had to barf again? She eased away from Rita and murmured something. Rita pointed to the backstage area. Giving the group at large a reassuring wave, Nicola hurried off stage left toward the dressing rooms. “Maxim, I need you to—” He waved Rita to silence. “Give me a second?” Gut churning with unease, Max jogged backstage, f ollowing—okay, maybe chasing—Nicola. He found her in the green room, leaning in the doorway, half-in, half-out, with a faraway expression in her eyes. In his younger days, Max had learned to recognize that look and put as much distance between himself and The Look as possible. Avoidance had always been his favorite way to solve conflicts. But not now. Five years hadn’t only made him older. When she saw him, she held a hand out to stop him walking closer. “I’m fine.” “Bullshit.” She flashed him an irritated glance but didn’t say anything. “Nic, what’s wrong?” She looked up, her eyes soft, her mouth half-parted. Awareness of her body flamed over him. Memories of the taste of her skin and the softness at the base of her throat had his lower self springing to attention. Real professional there, Max. He shifted, uncomfortably aware of what a schmuck he was. Still, he wasn’t going to walk away. “Nicola. Tell me.” She sucked in a deep breath and, when her gaze flicked to his mouth, he thought he might explode. “This, Fiesengerke.” She cupped the back of his head, yanking his face down to her. “This is what’s wrong.” Then she kissed him. As her mouth touched his, he thought, This is a bad idea. But still Max grinned against her lips. After all, he’d sort of been hoping this was the problem all along.
Eliza Walker, a native of Los Angeles, is the author of the Much Ado About Love Series that begins with A Midsummer Night's Fling. Her experiences as an actress helped inspire the series about actors finding love amidst the bedlam backstage at a world-class repertory theater. Once upon a time, Eliza met her own wonderful husband when they did a play together. By day Eliza helps corral engineers for NASA (without doing any of the tech stuff herself, of course). By night she loves to write her sarcastic heroes and heroines bantering their way to true love. Eliza is a total geek, a movie buff and a mediocre swing dancer. Eliza and her husband live in sunny Southern California with two of the neediest housecats on the planet.
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Drive You Wild
Love Between the Bases #3 By: Jennifer Bernard Releasing June 28, 2016 Avon
It’s game on for love in the third novel of USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Bernard’s sexy, baseball-themed series.
Kilby Catfish left-fielder Trevor Stark is a ballpark legend. With his good looks, hitting records, and played-for-the-fans arrogance, Trevor makes women lose their minds and men lose their cool. But every time the major league team comes calling, Trevor purposely keeps himself in the tiny Texas town. Why is heart-tuggingly top secret. Until the team owner’s daughter comes to Kilby . . . trying everything up her sexy sleeve to make Trevor talk. Divorced and disillusioned at twenty-four, Paige Mattingly Austin Taylor is suddenly starting fresh as an intern at Catfish Stadium. She should want nothing to do with the sinfully hot ballplayer her dad warned her to stay away from. But when she discovers what Trevor is hiding from everyone, she realizes there’s much more to him than his face and multi-million-dollar arm. There’s a heart she seriously hopes to win.
“Are you afraid of the mighty Crush Taylor?” She took another step closer. “He’s not as bad as he seems, you know.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” He placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from coming any closer. Her warmth carried into his skin, into his being, as if it was igniting him from within. “And I’m not afraid of you.” She ducked underneath his hands in a quick move right out of the NBA. He took a step back and his calves hit the bench situated next to the lockers. She reached out in apology and suddenly they were right smack against each other, chest-to-chest. Fire flashed down his spine, hot and urgent. He hauled her against him—oh, sweet Lord, she felt good. Soft and firm and shapely and alive and fresh and . . . then her mouth was under his, her lips parting, her breath warm, her flesh lush and sweet. It wasn’t a kiss so much as a head rush. ~~ Paige posted the first series of “Baseball’s Hottest Outfield” photos on the team’s Facebook page the next day. A few hours later a thousand people had clicked Like. Not only that, but the viewership of the page soared. It was shared all over the Internet, on Pinterest, on Twitter, on Instagram. It wasn’t just that the three men were criminally gorgeous. A big part of the appeal came from their racial mix and the blend of personalities. Trevor the stone-cold badass, Dwight the dynamic charmer, and Shizuko, the soulful rock star. Paige knew it was all a crock, of course. Trevor wasn’t stone cold, Dwight wasn’t playful all the time, and Shizuko could outcrude most of the clubhouse, and that was saying something. But once those identities became set, people loved them. They were like cartoon characters instead of real people. At the next game, the crowd roared when the outfielders took their positions on the field. Fans held up even more signs than they normally did. From the owner’s box, Paige scanned the crowd with her binoculars and read the signs out loud to Crush. “ ‘Kilby Hearts Baseball’s Hottest Outfield.’ Thank you very much, we heart you too! ‘We make ’em hot in Kilby, Texas.’ That might be taking a little too much credit. None of them are from here.”
Jennifer Bernard is a graduate of Harvard and a former news promo producer. The child of academics, she confounded her family by preferring romance novels to … well, any other books. She left big city life for true love in Alaska, where she now lives with her husband and stepdaughters. She’s no stranger to book success, as she also writes erotic novellas under a naughty secret name not to be mentioned at family gatherings.
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Driven to Temptation
A Driven to Love Story By: Melia Alexander Released June 13, 2016 Entangled Lovestruck
Aidan Ross might be an engineering genius, but people skills? Not this soldier’s forte. Thankfully, a trusted friend is accompanying him to a make-or-break tradeshow…but then a bubbly redhead hops into his truck, claiming to be his new road trip buddy. She’s a gorgeous distraction he can’t afford. Or ignore.
Delaney Harper comes from a family of engineers—male engineers. With several impressive projects under her belt, she’s on a mission to prove she can hang with the big boys, too. But cracking the sexy, closed-off CEO is tougher than she expects…and hotter than she could have imagined. With the tempting woman disrupting his carefully planned schedule, Aidan can’t focus on the road, much less their upcoming presentation. The future of his company is riding on this trip, and if they’re to land a huge account, he has to keep his head—and his heart—in the game…
Her stomach rumbled a reminder she hadn’t eaten today. Much. Fortunately, she’d packed a supply of snacks.
He loaded up the last of the easels and display charts in the bed of his truck. By the time he slammed the custom cover closed and locked it, she’d pulled a bag of corn chips from her handbag and torn it open. She shoved a couple of chips into her mouth and tossed her handbag onto the front seat as she crunched down. Aidan’s voice cut through her thoughts. “What are you doing?” “What? Oh. Sorry. How rude of me.” She held the opened bag toward where he sat in the driver’s seat. “I didn’t get a chance to eat anything this morning. Want some?” “No, thanks.” His voice sounded tight as he fastened his seat belt. “I don’t eat in my truck.” “Okay.” She took out a chip and crunched on it, corn yumminess exploding in her mouth. It might not be breakfast material, but if Harold could eat sushi, she could definitely justify corn chips. “I don’t think you get it. No one eats in my truck.” Great. They were still at the office and she’d already managed to piss him off. While she had to stay on his good side, it wouldn’t make sense if she keeled over from hunger before they even crossed the state line into Washington. “I’m hungry,” she said firmly, exactly the way her favorite college professor had taught her. “And since I wasn’t able to eat because I was getting ready for this trip, I think I should be allowed to have something. Want to wait a few minutes? Or maybe we can stop for a quick bite. There’s a Bobby Jo’s a couple of blocks away. They make great chili dogs.” No mistaking the cringe across Aidan’s face. “What? Do you not like chili dogs or something? I’ll buy.” “No.” “No, you don’t like chili dogs, or no, you don’t want me to buy?” she asked before quickly shoving more chips in her mouth. “Both.” His tone was clipped as he continued to stare at her. “Does this mean you aren’t going to stop?” she asked a moment later. “Yes.” Okay. Let’s try this again, shall we? She kept her voice calm. “Yes, you’re going to stop, or yes, you’re not going to stop? Because if you’re not going to stop, I’m telling you right now, there’s no way I’m gonna last six more hours without food.” And a hungry Delaney wasn’t someone he’d want to deal with. She stared at him intently, tried to telegraph that fact into his ever-so-hot and ever-so-stubborn profile. “I’m not stopping.” “Look.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I’ll eat over the bag so there won’t be any crumbs.” “There are always crumbs, no matter how careful you are.” “Okay.” Yeesh. Was he always so anal? Maybe it was a good thing he didn’t hang around the office at all. “What if I vacuum the cab out when we get back to Milestone?” He blew out a breath even as he nodded. “I suppose that’d work.” Thank God for small favors. “Is it okay to drink, too?” She pulled out a bottle of Gatorade and shot him her most charming smile. “Fine. Just get in the truck,” the man practically growled at her. “We’re behind schedule.” And he was grumpy, too. Wasn’t this going to be a blast?
Melia Alexander is the author of sassy, sexy, fun contemporary romances, but is also fortunate to spend her week days at The Male Observation Lab (a.k.a. her job at a construction company) where she gets to observe guys in their natural habitat. Though they often behave like typical alpha males, in many instances she's seen through their personas to the heart of who they really are - the heroes of their own stories. A native of Guam, Melia traded in warm, tropical breezes for the rainy Pacific Northwest. She's an avid reader who also loves romantic comedies - preferably with a glass of CabSauv and a box of chocolates nearby. In her free time, she's busy conquering her CrossFit fears: ring dips, muscle snatches, and the dreaded 800 meter run. Her family appreciates her attempts at cooking and cleaning, although she spends it mostly daydreaming about her characters, which sometimes results in a burnt meal and a half-cleaned house.
Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
Falling for the Rancher
When Lauren McCauley returns to the Circle M Ranch after her father's death, she's focused on selling the spread and getting a fresh start somewhere else. But she's unprepared for the jolt her heart feels when she meets Vic Moore. The handsome, broad-shouldered cowboy may have a legitimate claim to the Circle M, and he makes it clear he'd like to lasso Lauren, as well. Terrified of another heartbreak, Lauren vows to cash in and ship out. But the strong and steady rancher is not about to give up on his dreams of a home…and a family to go with it.
When your life is built on helping others, and doing everything you can, to make other's lives easier, and then your trust is broken in a harsh, and hurtful way, by more than one man, in a different circumstances, it is no wonder that Lauren is having a hard time trusting anyone. Not to mention the handsome cowboy, who claim to have the first right to buy the family ranch, and in doing so, take all the control out of her life.
Lauren is at a crossroads, in more ways than one. Her engagement was broken a week before the wedding was to take place, her father died in an accident, she lost her job, she is trying to build a new possibility for herself, and only for herself this time, but everything is a chaos around her, with no trace of an order or a smooth ride. Her stubborn nature is pushing her through, even though everything seems to go against her plan. Her faith in God is feeble, she doesn't want to let the control go, and let Him in charge. Vic is like Lauren, always taking care of everyone else. But the guilt from his brother's accident is eating him inside out, and he needs the ranch, to make it better again, for his brother. I liked how Vic and Lauren danced around each other, slowly getting to know each other, slowly giving each other more time and space in their lives. Trusting each other isn't easy for either one of them, and they have to work on their guilt, the need for control, need to take care of everything, independence.. The inner struggle they have is real, they have to learn to forgive themselves, as well as to those whom has wronged them. The road to learning to trust again, and forgiving, and forgetting, moving on, is filled with rocks that they fumble on, but they have the desire to learn, the desire to trust in the Lord, and each other, and they have the will to put the other first, to build a lasting relationship. I loved how their difficult journey was told, how they learned to put their faith, hope, and reliance into Lord and His almighty hands. The built up took a little time, but once the story took wings, it was flying beautifully. The attraction between them seemed so fragile, but the will to build upon it was strong. A lesson in love, trust, family, and the gospel truth ~ Four Spoons
A New Leash On Love
When June Leavy finds two puppies abandoned outside during a storm, she immediately feels a bond with the adorable animals. Swindled out of her life savings by her no-good ex, she, too, was left with nothing but heartache and struggles of her own. But when she arrives at the local veterinary clinic, June is met by dangerously handsome Dr. Ethan Singh, whose sexy smile threatens to disarm her hard-won emotional strength. Back in Peach Leaf, Texas, to recover from an ugly breakup, Ethan gently tends to the puppies and their charming caretaker. But as the storm rages, so does the electric attraction between Ethan and June. Is this real, or a cruel phantom of lost love? Stranded alone at the clinic, only one thing is certain: they've got all night to figure it out…
I loved reading about a snow storm in a middle of the June heat wave, even though the heat between Ethan and June is high enough to melt the accumulating snow around them. What Ethan and June have, is a failure to communicate. And not necessarily because they don't know how, but because of the fear of being hurt again.
They both were betrayed by their lovers recently, in a different, but horrid, painful ways. So the hesitation to trust themselves with the opposite sex, to trust the feelings, to trust the moment that seems so perfect, it all seems too good to be true, and so they fumble. What I liked about them, was that they were both willing to try to fix things, again and again. They had the desire to go for the distance, and the will to hold on to what they had, and built upon it, if possible. There's fun moments as they meet each others families, lots of humor and laughs. There's a moment of hurt, confusion, and strain, as they are trying to figure out their future, their feelings, and where they stand with each other. The moment of passion is scorching, yet tender and beautiful, and the puppies, they just steal your heart away. A sweet and tender story of a new chance in life and love, and how the future, you are building on, and for, might just be bigger and better than your dreams. A great summer read! ~ Four Spoons
COWBOY TO THE CORE
Jake Dalton believes in worthy causes—like opening his Texas ranch to inner-city kids for the summer. But there's a catch…that involves a woman. Dedicated do-gooder Carolina Lambert can hold her own against any man…Jake included. Except now someone with a nasty grudge who's been waiting for the perfect moment to strike has the beautiful widow in his sights. R.J. Dalton's estranged son is the last man on earth Carolina wants to trust with her life. But the rugged single father has sworn to keep her safe. As passion ignites—and a killer closes in—Carolina and Jake may lose their chance at a love neither expected to find again.
A good old western family saga, like a John Wayne movie, with a little danger on the side.
I liked that the hero and the heroine, Jake and Carolina were older, mature people. I find myself enjoying those stories more and more, having the chance to find love at the later in your life, or second time, as Jake and Carolina do. The story is rather clean, the passion and attraction in understated, and doesn't go further than some kissing and assumed love making. The family, extended family, has their own drama and troubles, nothing is explored too deeply, or brought to the daylight, dealt with, and found a solution. Even the life long alienation between Jake and his father doesn't get much of deeper investigation, but everything is fixed in a one sentence. The suspense is in the background, the investigation is constant, and the culprit is being hunted, but there's no acute danger or action in the story, just a crescendo, with little details. I liked the laid back, smooth, southern summer feeling the story has. But for an Intrigue story, I expected more suspense, intense danger, fierce action. Even in the romance, or at least for the family drama, some deeper emotions, more details, fine points of their lives, particulars of the family reunion and settling between Jake and R.J. Now the story reads very sleek and mild, polished with very little details or deeper information on any issue or element of the tale. ~ Three Spoons
Falling for Sarah
Bodyguards of L.A. County 2 By: Cate Beauman Self Published
Falling For Sarah: The Bodyguards of L.A. County #2 (Published Oct. 15, 2012)
Widow Sarah Johnson struggled to pick up the pieces after her life was ripped apart. After two years of grieving, she's found contentment in her thriving business as photographer to Hollywood's A-list and in raising her angel-faced daughter, Kylee... until bodyguard and long-time friend Ethan Cooke changes everything with a searing moonlight kiss. Sarah's world turns upside down as she struggles with her unexpected attraction to Ethan and the guilt of betraying her husband's memory. But when blue roses and disturbing notes start appearing on her doorstep, she has no choice but to lean on Ethan as he fights to save her from a stalker that won't stop until he has what he prizes most.
Breathtakingly beautiful love story, of best friends and confidants, and their journey to find home within each other, while fighting against survival in the evil games of a madman.
The suspense, the lurking evil around them, with his vicious, heinous thoughts, gives the story the creepy feelings, and makes you check your locks. The crimes, the danger, the escalating threat, are constantly present, in every thought of the characters, and impossible to escape from. As the culprit also has a voice in the story, part of it being told from his point of view, the acts of crime and devastation comes clear and near, dangerously vivid images bombarding the reader's mind. Amazingly built up suspense, twined into the romance, the events of the story bind with the escalating crimes. The bond between Ethan and Sarah is rare, solid, loving, and protective. He has always been there for her, in the moments of joy, in the moments of deep sorrow, giving a hand, a shoulder to cry on, or a comforting hug when needed. The connection between them is beautiful, delightful, so perfectly in balance, as friends, they have trust, respect, love, and kindness for each other, in a special kind of way. And together as lovers, there's passion, allure, fascination, but also those awkward, bumbling after feelings, that gets them into trouble, again and again. They have to take time and distance, to find the acceptance, for themselves, for the new feelings, the emotions running amok in them. The journey isn't without painful moments of hurt feelings, and resentment, misunderstandings, and failures to communicate. Inner growth, and self involvement, when it leads to a beautiful, peaceful, fulfilling relationship, is a beauty to witness. Ethan together with Kaylee made me swoon. Her complete trust in him, his adoration of her, they are father and daughter in all the real senses of the words, except biological. The respect Ethan has for Kaylee's father proves what a great man he is, capable of love, loyalty, and long term relationships, the forever kinds. Hair-raising, thrilling suspense, mixed with captivating, passionate love story, that will break your heart a bit, before bringing it all together again. I am in awe ~ Five Spoons
Chapter One
September 24, 2010 Sarah Johnson turned the key and opened her front door. She crossed the threshold, breathing in the familiar scent of fresh-cut flowers and the hint of low tide blowing in from the Pacific. “It’s so nice to be home. Welcome home, sweet baby girl.” She stared at her sleeping newborn and smiled, brushing her lips over the soft skin of her baby’s forehead. “Look out, coming through,” Ethan Cooke said, loaded down with balloons and vases overflowing with cheerful blooms. “I had no idea bringing a baby home from the hospital required movers.” Sarah stepped aside, chuckling. “I know. Kylee has quite a fan club already. Let me help you with some of this stuff.” “I’ve got it. You gave birth yesterday, for God’s sake. The nurse told you to take it easy.” He set the vase on the entryway table and released the balloons to the ceiling as he dropped the diaper bag from his shoulder to the floor. “Besides, Jake would kick my ass if he knew you were hauling things in.” Sarah’s smile widened as she thought of her husband. “Yes, you’re probably right, but I also know he would be grateful you were able to help me out. My mother wasn’t expecting to run her shop today. Dana called in sick, so that was that.” Ethan moved closer to her side, staring at the baby. “I’m happy you called. I wanted to come visit you ladies again last night, but things got a little crazy while I was on duty.” He brushed a finger down Kylee’s tiny nose. “She really is beautiful, Sarah. She looks just like you.” Sarah’s blue eyes twinkled. “Thank you, but I definitely see some of Jake in her too.” She wrapped her free arm around Ethan’s waist and rested her head against his shoulder as he returned her embrace. “I’m so happy right now, Ethan, so absolutely happy. Twenty-nine more days and my family will be whole again. I can’t wait to hug Jake and watch his face when he holds her for the first time. I could tell he wanted to crawl through the screen yesterday and touch her tiny fingers and toes.” She looked down at Kylee. “No more deployments for your daddy. He’ll be all ours.” “He’ll be mine too.” Ethan grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’ve been waiting just as eagerly for Jake’s return. It took me two years to convince him to join my firm. Now I need to get Hunter on board, and the crew will be together again.” “Getting yourselves into as much trouble as ever I’m sure. You’ll have to wait a little longer for your new security expert. He’s not leaving my side for at least a week.” “I think I can live with that.” He kissed her forehead and started toward the door. “Let me get the rest of the stuff from the truck. Then I’ll set up Jake’s surprise.” “I can’t wait for him to see it. I’ve nixed the big-screen TV idea for so long, I’m pretty sure he’s stopped hoping for one.” “It’s a beauty, all right. He’ll love it. I’ll have everything hooked up in no time.” He gave her a gentle squeeze and headed for the door. “Great.” Brimming with joy, Sarah kissed her daughter again and took the baby to the nursery she’d painstakingly painted on her own. The pale yellow stripes looked wonderful with the touches of pink scattered about the room. Sitting in the rocker, she put Kylee to her breast and listened to the door open and slam shut as Ethan brought their items in from his Range Rover. Minutes later, she smiled when she heard him rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. If Ethan was anything, it was always hungry. Kylee’s mouth went slack as she fell back to sleep. Sarah fastened her nursing bra and fixed her shirt. She settled Kylee against her shoulder and walked out to the kitchen while she rubbed her daughter’s back, burping her. Ethan stood in front of the open refrigerator, mumbling his excitement about her stocked shelves. He glanced up, grinning, and she itched for her camera. “Hey, I’m going to make myself a sandwich before I get started on the TV. Want one?” “No, thanks. Do you want me to make it for you?” “Nah, you don’t have to do that.” “Why don’t you let me because I have another favor to ask of you.” She smiled. “The least I can do is make you something to eat.” He went to the pantry, grabbing a loaf of bread. “Why don’t you tell me what you need?” He pulled open a cupboard and took out a plate. “A shower.” She smiled again, nibbling her lip. His eyes zeroed in on Kylee, and he took a step back. “Geez, I don’t know, Sarah. I’ve never held a baby before. What if I drop her?” A laugh bubbled in her throat at the sheer horror in his eyes. Even after he’d helped her through hours of labor, watched her deliver Kylee, and cut the cord in Jake’s honor, he’d refused to hold her. “You’re not going to drop her,” she said, walking to where he stood. “Fold your arm like this.” She held out her arm, bending at the elbow. He cleared his throat, following her lead, and she placed Kylee in the crook of his rigid arm. Kylee squirmed, and he grabbed Sarah’s hand. “She’s moving, she’s moving. She’s going to fall. Shit, Sarah, I really think this is a bad idea.” “I think it’s a great idea. Trust me on this one.” She adjusted the baby slightly, moving his arm closer to his body, making sure his hand held Kylee under her diapered bottom. She backed away from them, grinning at the discomfort and mild panic all over Ethan’s face. “You’re a natural. Look at you two. I need my camera.” He groaned as she moved to the pile of bags outside the kitchen door and grabbed her case, pulling her Nikon D3 from the bag. She held up the camera and looked through the lens, focusing on Ethan’s arresting face for a test shot. Sharp cheekbones and straight black eyebrows accentuated his long, thick eyelashes and bold gray eyes. She zoomed in on the clear gray pools surrounded by dark, smoky rings and pressed the shutter closed in rapid succession. His firm, full lips and muscular torso showcased a man perfectly comfortable with his masculinity. She tightened her focus on his big hand holding Kylee’s little body and clicked away again, moving in closer, getting lost in her passion for pictures. “Sarah, do you want that shower or not?” She pulled the camera back, focusing on Ethan’s raised brow and lips pressed firm in annoyance. “Sorry. I got a little carried away. You two make excellent subjects. The camera loves your face.” “So you’ve told me—more times than I can count.” She placed the Nikon back in the bag and zipped it closed. “You’re doing a great job with her.” He glanced down at Kylee. “I guess this is okay.” “See? I’ll be quick. She just ate so she should sleep. Here’s the burp cloth just in case she spits up.” She draped the cotton towel over Ethan’s shoulder and turned to leave. “Wait.” She stopped, turning back. “Um.” He took a step toward her and stopped. “What if—what if she starts to cry?” Amused by his distress, she couldn’t help but smile. The man standing before her dealt with the scum of the earth every day, yet a seven-pound infant brought him to his knees. “Just jiggle your arm a little bit. She’ll fall right back to sleep.” She turned and walked toward the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, “Oh, and relax. Babies feel tension.”
International bestselling author Cate Beauman is known for her full-length, action-packed romantic suspense series, The Bodyguards of L.A. County. Her novels have been nominated for the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award, National Indie Excellence Award, Golden Quill Award, Writers Touch Award, and have been named Readers Favorite Five Star books. In 2015, JUSTICE FOR ABBY was selected as the Readers' Favorite International Book Award Gold Medalist, while SAVING SOPHIE took the Silver Medal. SAVING SOPHIE was also selected as the 2015 Readers Crown Award winner for Romantic Suspense and FALLING FOR SARAH received the silver medal for the 2014 Readers' Favorite Awards.
Cate makes her home in North Carolina with her husband, two boys, and their St. Bernards, Bear and Jack. Currently Cate is working on Deceiving Bella, the eleventh novel in her popular bodyguards series. For information on Cate's new releases, monthly giveaways, and upcoming events, sign up for her newsletter at: http://www.catebeauman.com/author/home.html#!newsletter-sign-up/c9td Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
Heavy Hitters
Caribbean Tales #1 By: Taylor V. Donovan Releasing June 24, 2016 Self-Published
*Standalone Gay Romance Saga
His toughest opponent is himself. World Boxing Champion Santino Malavé González has been fighting since he was a kid. Poverty, domestic violence, and emotional abuse were early contenders. Guilt and self-loathing were beaten into him at an impressionable age, and now machismo, an integral part of the Latino culture, rules his life. In the ring he’s undefeated. Outside the ropes life constantly hits him below the belt. It takes a sucker punch from his best friend to finally knock the denial out of him and force him to face his true nature like a real man. A natural born entertainer, Luca Jenaro Betancur Ferrer has grown up serving God, performing, pursuing a career in music, and celebrating life among his tight-knit Catholic family under the scorching Puerto Rican sun. Singing the wrong note on stage is not a mistake the multi-platinum award-winning singer would ever allow. Falling in love with a man is not a transgression his devout family may ever accept. The ties that bind him are strong, but the pull toward his childhood best friend may just be enough to tear it all to shreds. Anger, mistakes, bigotry, and the need to conform put up a good fight throughout their life journeys. Their religious and chauvinistic society constantly challenges their pursuit of happiness, and only time will tell if their relationship will survive the battles, or if they’ll lose each other by technical knockout.
There was a noise outside the house, and they both froze. “What was that?” Santi asked. “I can’t let Pa find me here.”
“I didn’t hear his car,” she said, staring at the bedroom door. She listened intently, then squared her narrow shoulders, and added, “It was probably the wind.” “What do you mean we’re going away?” Santi sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Are you getting a divorce?” Please let her say yes. “The church doesn’t condone divorce, and I’ve already offended God by… well, by failing to raise you right,” she said with the saddest smile Santi had ever seen on her. “Besides, your father would never agree to that. He’d rather see me dead than have people say he couldn’t keep his wife.” “He’s told me he’d rather have a dead son than a gay one,” he confessed in a low voice. “You won’t tell him I told you I like boys, right?” “You don’t like boys!” Mami shook him so hard his teeth clanked together. “You do not. And we’re going to keep it that way, right? Promise me that you won’t turn gay.” “I promise.” He’d promise anything if it meant sparing his mom and himself from his dad’s rage. “I promise I’ll never fall in love with another boy. I won’t be gay.” “Good…good.” She kissed his forehead and squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t be gay. Do not give in to that impulse. Conform to what society wants from you. Watch over your sister. Go pro as soon as you can and make lots of money. Show your dad how much you’re really worth. Get married. Have kids. Be kind to your wife and children, but let her know you’re the head of the household, and don’t you ever let anyone question your manhood.” She glanced at the bedroom door and hugged him tight, and Santi hugged her back. “Now, I know this won’t make sense to you, but I need to tell your dad about what you told me.” “You don’t have to tell him, Ma.” He dragged his palms up and down his thighs, trying not to choke on the bile rising up his throat. “You said yourself I’m not gay. Please don’t tell him. He’ll go insane.” “I won’t be able to get you out of here if I keep quiet. That’s the price I must pay, but you’ll be fine. As long as you don’t tell anyone you once thought you could be gay, everything will be okay.” She pushed him back and looked at him with a grave expression on her face. “Way too many gay men get hurt here, mi amor. You’ve got to protect yourself, and the best way of doing that is never letting anyone know that you used to be attracted to boys.” “Can’t you take me to the hospital?” Santi wiped his nose on his sleeve again and blinked several times. “Maybe they can cure me.” “I wish I could, but there’s nothing they can do about homosexuality.” “You don’t know that.” He broke down in tears one more time. He didn’t want to turn gay. It sounded painful and lonely. “Take me to the hospital, Ma,” he begged. “The doctors will fix me.” “I already told you, my sweet boy,” she whispered. “Only you can fix yourself and save me from your dad’s punishment.” She glanced at the door and gave him a quick kiss. “I’m counting on you to make things right for all of us.” Santi pulled his knees up to his chest and looked at her with a glassy stare. “How am I supposed to do that?” he whispered, the weight of her expectations crushing him. “Just be good and do as you’re told.” She hugged him tight. Santi was too scared to hug her back. “I’m very proud of you, indio, and I’ll always love you this much,” Mami emphasized, extending her arms to show him an infinite amount, the same way she did when he was a kid. “I want you to promise me you’ll remember that every time you feel I’ve let you down.” Santi gulped at the sound of her favorite term of endearment for him. He looked more Taíno Indian than Spaniard, African, French, or American, and he was the spitting image of his mom. He was convinced their physical resemblance created a special bond between them and absolutely loved hearing her calling him indio. Tonight that bond felt like a noose around his neck, and all of a sudden he was desperate to escape. “¿Qué demonio tú estás hacienda en mi cuarto? What the fuck is going on here?” One second Santi was safely tucked in his mom’s arms, and the next his dad was yanking him by the back of his neck. “What were you doing, you little perv?” He threw Santi against the wall and kneed him in the balls. “Were you sniffing at your mom’s womanly parts?” “No.” Santi doubled up and slid to the floor. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” He gasped and put his hands between his legs. His father took the opportunity to strike him in the face. “Julio, please,” Mami begged. “He wasn’t doing any such thing!” “First you’re a pato, and now you’re trying to get your freak on with your mom?” Papi yelled, kicking Santi’s legs. “You’re a fucking perv.” “We’re just talking, Julio,” Mami said, and Santi saw her get out of bed out of the corner of his eye. “Please let him go.” “Why are you here?” Papi slurred. Santi could smell the alcohol on him from his place on the floor. “Did you forget my bedroom is off-limits?” “I needed to talk to Mami,” Santi said quietly. His balls were throbbing. Tears blurred his vision. His fingers trembled when he wiped the blood from his nose. “Is this what happens when I’m not in the house?” Papi asked, grabbing Santi by the front of his sweater and punching him in the head. “How long has this been going on?” he yelled in his ear. “Good thing that piece of shit car broke down and I had to walk home.” He slapped Santi again. “Now I know what you do behind my back. No respect for your old man.” “Julio, ple—” “Shut the fuck up.” There was a cracking noise two seconds after he let go of Santi’s sweater. He’d heard it often enough to know it was the sound of his dad’s knuckles smashing the soft flesh of his mom’s face. It was followed by her quiet sob. “I told you to stop coddling this little shit.” He kicked Santi again. “It’s your fault he’s such a little pussy at his age. What the hell were you thinking? He’s the reason I can’t be happy. He makes me feel like a failure as a father, and it is both your fault that I get so out of control. Do you want him to be like your fucking brother? You’re turning my son into someone who’ll want to fuck little boys!” “I don’t want to do that to little boys, and I’m not a pussy,” Santi growled, trying to get up from the floor. “Pussies are cowards, and I don’t hit women or kids,” he spat, sick of the abuse. Not caring if his dad was talking out of his ass or if he’d overheard Santi’s conversation with his mom. “That’s your specialty.” “What did you say to me?” Papi barked. When he lifted his foot to kick him again, Santi grabbed his leg and pushed him away. He took a second to glance at his mom. She was sprawled on the bed holding her nose. He hoped it wasn’t broken again. It’d be his fault if it was, and Santi didn’t want for his mom to hurt. “What did you say to me?” He was so worried about his mom he didn’t see his dad move until his fist landed on Santi’s jaw. “That’s enough,” Santi yelled, blocking his dad’s fist when he swung a second— or was it a fourth time? He’d lost count. “I say when it’s enough, maricón,” Papi yelled back, spitting in Santi’s face. “Not you, you little bitch.” “Don’t call me that ever again,” Santi growled, grabbing his dad’s hands with both of his. “I’m not a pussy.” He kicked his dad in the gut and backed away until his back was pressed to the wall. “I’m not a maricón!” “Papi, please.” Omayra’s tremulous voice came out of nowhere. “Stop hurting Santi.” “Go back to bed.” Papi took off his belt. “This piece of shit dared to raise his hand to me. He has to learn who the man of this house is.”
My name is Taylor V. Donovan and I’m an author of gay romance and suspense. Those of you who have read my work already know my stories are mostly inspired by everyday situations. For those of you who have yet to read my work and have absolutely no clue what to expect, I’ll tell you that realism is my “thing.” There’s no magic penis that’ll cure anything and everything, but my characters are full of love, commitment, hope, and determination to be happy. Also, making my readers part of my characters’ journey is my main goal. The ride is never a quick or easy, but hopefully you’ll feel emotionally invested.
As you may or may not know, I was on hiatus for a while, but I *finally* have a new story coming out. Heavy Hitters has a release date of June 24th. Thank you for having me over and giving me a platform to introduce myself and announce the release. Hope you all check it out! Heavy Hitters is set in my hometown of Puerto Rico, and it features Puerto Rican guys, our culture, our heritage, and out food. Because this blog is about food and books, I decided to share a recipe for Ensalada de Carrucho, which translates to Conch Meat Salad. This is something that Santi and Luca, my protagonists, always eat after a night out because it is delicious and also because, rumor has it, carrucho is an awesome aphrodisiac. Go ahead and give it a try!
Taylor V. Donovan is a compulsive reader and author of gay romance and suspense. She is optimistically cynical about humanity and a lover of history, museums, and all things 80s. She shamelessly indulges in mind-numbing reality television, is crazy about fashion, and passionate about civil rights and equality for all.
When she’s not writing or making a living in the busiest city in the world, Taylor can be found raising her two daughters and their terribly misbehaved furry baby in their home. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Morgan’s Hunter
Bodyguards of L.A. County #1 & 2 By: Cate Beauman Self Published
Morgan's Hunter: The Bodyguards Of L.A. County #1 (Published Oct. 15, 2012)
Morgan Taylor, D.C. socialite and wildlife biologist, leads a charmed life until everything changes with a phone call. Her research team has been found dead—slaughtered—in backcountry Montana. As the case grows cold, Morgan is determined to unravel the mystery behind her friends’ gruesome deaths. Despite the dangers of a murderer still free, nothing will stand in her way, not even the bodyguard her father hires, L.A.’s top close protection agent, Hunter Phillips. Sparks fly from the start when no-nonsense Hunter clashes with Morgan’s strong-willed independence. Their endless search for answers proves hopeless—until Hunter discovers the truth. On the run and at the mercy of a madman, Morgan and Hunter must outsmart a killer to save their own lives.
Action packed story, that at times had me in tears, and at times, scared for survival.
The book starts with a vivid, realistic scene from the war in Afghanistan, that had me biting my nails, with tears in my eyes. It's heartbreaking, yet amazing moment, where the brotherhood of the soldiers is brilliantly proven. The sorrow, the remorse, the agony of those who survived, is palpable, and beautifully written. As the story progress, the action and suspense is tight, tense, with twist and unexpected elements. I liked the setting of the Montana backwoods, and the fact that they were not only fighting against the human threat in the woods, the wildlife came close to them as well, with its own dangerous moments. I liked both Morgan and Hunter. Morgan is a devoted daughter, respected professional, yes, she is a bad driver, stubborn, willful, and ornery, when put into a corner, but she had her moments. Hunter is loyal, protective, caring, a guardian for those he cares about, and vigilant in his job. But when together, both Hunter and Morgan seems to be the worse version of themselves. Hunter is frustrated with her ornery behavior, so he keeps secrets from her, those secrets make her behave recklessly, causing them to be in danger, and to be even more stubborn, if possible. They really don't like each other, and too often it is mentioned, that Hunter grabbed, yanked, or pulled her, resorting to physically control her. The physical attraction is palpable, but for them to fall in love, when they didn't even like each other most of the time, not to mention trust, or respect, I thought was a stretch. So the characters are not my favorite ones, but for the suspense, the intriguing trek in the wilderness, I will give ~ Three Spoons
Chapter One
September 2010 Helmand Province, Afghanistan Gunnery Sergeant Hunter Phillips and his men drove toward their target: the hideout of Al-Qaeda’s number three. Satellite imagery confirmed Abbas Muhammad Muhammad Tayi was holed up in a small village ten miles away, but a source warned they had the wrong man. Hunter and his Force Recon unit were about to find out. After a year of searching, tracking, hunting, they would substantiate the evidence either way. Bringing the fucker to justice thirty days before they departed this godforsaken land would be the perfect end to their tour. The caravan of two up-armored Humvees moved swiftly down the endless, dusty road, dodging enormous blast holes created by Soviet mines years before. They came past the blackened remains of a truck three Marines died in yesterday. Like a mascot of death, the burned vehicle welcomed the recon unit to “The Danger Zone.” In the last month alone, ten soldiers had lost their lives along the eternal stretch of dirt. Rocky terrain laden with caves and deep crevices surrounded the Humvees. Insurgents roamed the area, ever eager to take their shot at US forces. Although the route clearance team had driven by twenty minutes ago, ten pairs of eyes scanned the road and dirt beyond, watchful for mounds of sand and small rocks—telltale signs of IEDs. “And as we drive through the valley of the shadow of death, I would like to remind you all that God is good, men. Keep Him with you today,” Hunter said into his radio. Nine “Amens” answered back. Tension hung thick and the vehicles were silent except for the hum of motors and the constant click of Carson, Hunter’s gunner above, moving in half circles in his mechanical seat. The unit had gone a year without a casualty—a miracle in direct action warfare. But the law of averages told them they were due, and they all knew it. Somewhere during the last mile, the AC had petered out. Hunter, sweat soaked and miserable, tugged at his collar, trying to ignore the one hundred degree heat and baking sun boring through the windshield, zapping energy from him and his men like a furnace straight from hell. Perspiration trapped by camouflage fabric and bulletproof vests mixed with sand, chafing, burning, only adding to the wretched conditions. As the truck plowed ahead, Hunter’s shoulder blades itched and his stomach pitched. His eyes narrowed and his focus sharpened as he searched the rocks beyond. Something wasn’t right. His gut instinct was never wrong, and his men didn’t question it. “Men, I’ve got the itch. Stay alert. I repeat, stay alert.” “Still glad you picked this route, Gunny?” Jake Johnson said from truck two. Despite the situation, a small smile ghosted Hunter’s mouth. “Don’t be a pussy, Johnson.” He lurched to the right as the driver swerved around another blast hole. “The fastest route isn’t always the safest. That’s why I’m lead truck. I’ll keep you safe, honey.” Jake chuckled. “Fuck you, man.” Hunter grinned, forever scrutinizing their surroundings. “You’ll be tucked in with your blankey before—” The massive explosion cut him off, shaking his vehicle with its deafening boom. “What the fuck?” He glanced in his rearview mirror as smoke plumed from truck two. Oh God—Jake. Bullets pinged against the armored trucks as the unit took on fire. “Return fire! Return fire!” Hunter instructed, peering back at Jake’s vehicle. “Truck two, do you copy?” Static crackled in his earpiece as his heart pounded—in his chest, in his throat. His body revved from the swift flow of adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins. He radioed back to camp, struggling to remain calm. “Thunder Main, this is Patriot Zulu. We have IED detonation—one truck hit. We’re taking fire. I need fire support now and casualty evacuation on standby!” “Patriot Zulu, this is Thunder Main. That’s a good copy of last transmission. Scout weapons team is inbound. ETA ninety seconds.” With help on the way, Hunter tried Jake’s Humvee again. “Vehicle two, do you copy?” “Hunter, this is truck two. We’re smoking and rattled, but we’re—” Another explosion roared, cutting them off as a rocket-propelled grenade hit Humvee two. Metal smashed and scattered through the air as Jake’s vehicle rolled twice. “Shit! Shit! Fire support, what is your location, goddammit? Carson,” he hollered to his gunman, “suppress that fire so I can move toward those rocks.” He had to get to Jake’s truck. Carson gave him a nod, pummeling fifty caliber rounds into the boulders, decimating rock and anything behind them. Hunter opened his door, crouching next to the wheel well, assessing the unit’s dire situation. Help was still sixty seconds away, and they were surrounded by insurgents. Truck two lay on its side four hundred yards back as heavy black smoke plumed from the twist of metal. Hot rubber and burning electrical equipment choked the air. A movement in the rocks caught Hunter’s eye. He fired his weapon, watching a man fall to the ground. “Let’s do this,” he said to the three soldiers waiting for his command. The men took his place at the wheel well as he ran for the boulders in the distance. "Clarke, Tanger, I need an update on truck two. Move forward.” Carson continued shooting from the Humvee roof while Hunter and Sergeant Smith laid down fire, providing cover as the soldiers ran. Halfway to the vehicle, bullets rained down from an unknown area in the rocks above. Clarke and Tanger stumbled, falling to the ground. “No! Cover me, Smith.” Without a second thought, Hunter sprinted toward his fallen men as the rhythmic thump of chopper blades echoed closer. A Kiowa Warrior soared overhead, dropping missiles among the crevices and caves, obliterating large chunks of mountainous terrain. The helicopter banked right as the next aircraft flew in, repeating the same procedure. Fire support vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and the air fell silent. The heavy breathing of his soldiers filled Hunter’s ear. The firefight was over. For the moment they were clear of danger, and a weight lifted off his shoulders, leaving him lightheaded with relief. Sergeant Tanger groaned as a chunk of dangling metal fell from truck two with a deafening crash, and reality rushed back like a punch to the gut. Hunter ran to his men, who were shot and bleeding, as Carson continued with precautionary fire into the mountainside. “Smith, get the truck over here!” Hunter dug into Clarke’s medical pack and applied a tourniquet to the unconscious man’s arm. As he twisted the black fabric tight, the flow of blood ceased. With Clarke as stable as he could make him, Hunter crawled to Tanger, ripping Tanger’s pant leg, exposing three bullet wounds. He glanced at Jake’s truck, desperate to get to him. Distracting flashes of their childhood played through his mind, and he ruthlessly squashed the memories. “Shit, man, you’re a mess,” he said to Tanger, attempting to keep his soldier lucid and himself calm. “It hurts like—shit!” Tanger tensed as Hunter packed his first wound. Sergeant Smith backed the Humvee closer and crouched next to Hunter, waiting for orders. “Smith, finish this. Get them secured. I’m heading for truck two.” With his gun to his shoulder, he peered through the sight, moving toward Jake’s vehicle. It had only been five minutes since the attack began, but it felt as if it had been hours. “Truck two, do you copy?” The air remained dead, and panic rose from his depths. Everything he’d learned as a Force Recon escaped him. All the training on procedure vanished as he thought of Jake and the other four men. “Jake. Jake, do you copy? Can you hear me?” “Hunter,” Jake answered, coughing. “Oh, thank God. You scared the sh—” “I’m hit, Hunt. I’m hit.” Jake wheezed, coughing again. “And they’re all dead, man.” Pain sliced his heart as he yelled into his radio once more. “We need casualty evac, ASAP! Get them here now! I have four confirmed KIAs and three wounded.” Hunter whirled when footsteps approached from behind. Sergeant Smith’s face lined up in the crosshairs of his scope. “Clarke and Tanger are secure.” “Let’s go then,” Hunter said, running to what was left of the vehicle. “Jake, I’m here.” Jake gasped for air, coughing violently. Hunter climbed to the top of the heap, burning and cutting his hands, peering down at Jake’s battered face. Gashes riddled his cheeks, dribbling blood. He glanced at the remains of his four other men, burying the fisting pain deep. Jake was all that mattered now—the only one he could help. Hunter locked his legs around mangled metal, anchoring himself. He reached his arms through the opening, grabbing hold of Jake. “Come on, man, I’m going to get you out of here. Evac’s on its way.” Jake tried to sit up on the console and yelled out. “I can’t do it. I can’t get up.” “Yes, you can. I don’t know how long we have before they fire on us again.” Taking a deep breath, Jake hollered, clenching his fists as he sat up. Hunter hoisted him up, and Jake screamed. “I’m sorry, man. Almost there.” With Jake’s head and torso freed from the wreckage, Sergeant Smith climbed up, grabbing hold of Jake’s legs, helping Hunter lay him on the ground. “Sergeant, get me a kit,” Hunter said, assessing Jake’s injuries as Smith ran for their truck. Blood saturated Jake’s plated vest, and sweat covered his face as he grew pale with every heartbeat. Hunter ripped through his friend’s armor and cloth to the wound, fighting to steady his breathing, horrified by the injuries. He applied pressure to the gaping hole in Jake’s abdomen as blood pooled over his fingers. Helplessness consumed him and desperation clawed at his throat as he yelled into his radio, “We need casualty evac now, goddammit! Do you hear me? Right now!” Sergeant Smith hustled back with a kit, but there was nothing among the first aid supplies that would help. The medics on their team were dead or gravely injured, and Jake’s entire midsection was full of shrapnel. “I’m not going to make it,” Jake gasped. “Don’t you fucking say that!” He coughed again, violently. “I’m not. Take care of them. Take care of Sarah and the baby.” Hunter pressed harder as blood oozed over his fingers, pooling in the sand. “No, you’re going to take care of them. They’re coming.” The rhythmic sound of chopper blades echoed off the mountains. “Listen, they’re almost here.” Jake’s body shook. “Promise me. Promise me, goddammit.” Tears streamed from his brown eyes. “Tell them I love them, that I’ll always be with them.” “I promise, Jake.” It was too late. There was nothing the medics could do. White as a sheet, Jake convulsed, even as Sergeant Smith tried to help keep him still. “Kiss Kylee for me.” His voice grew weaker. “Tell her it’s from her daddy. I never got to…I never got to hold her. Tell her about me.” “I will. I will.” Hunter was losing him. Life seeped from his best friend, his brother. “I love you, Jake. I’ll take care of them.” “I love…take care of...” Jake stopped moving, stopped breathing. “God, no! No!” Desperately, Hunter started chest compressions. “Don’t you leave me!” The chopper landed in the distance, and gunfire broke out. Heat seared through Hunter’s left shoulder. Bullets sprayed from Sergeant Smith’s weapon. “I got him, Hunter. I got the fucking bastard.” Smith’s brow furrowed as he crouched behind the rocks. “Shit, you’re shot.” Hunter sat in the sand and dust with Jake while blood dripped down his arm.
International bestselling author Cate Beauman is known for her full-length, action-packed romantic suspense series, The Bodyguards of L.A. County. Her novels have been nominated for the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award, National Indie Excellence Award, Golden Quill Award, Writers Touch Award, and have been named Readers Favorite Five Star books. In 2015, JUSTICE FOR ABBY was selected as the Readers' Favorite International Book Award Gold Medalist, while SAVING SOPHIE took the Silver Medal. SAVING SOPHIE was also selected as the 2015 Readers Crown Award winner for Romantic Suspense and FALLING FOR SARAH received the silver medal for the 2014 Readers' Favorite Awards.
Cate makes her home in North Carolina with her husband, two boys, and their St. Bernards, Bear and Jack. Currently Cate is working on Deceiving Bella, the eleventh novel in her popular bodyguards series. For information on Cate's new releases, monthly giveaways, and upcoming events, sign up for her newsletter at: http://www.catebeauman.com/author/home.html#!newsletter-sign-up/c9td Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads
No Stranger to Love
Tavonesi Series #9 By: Pamela Aares Released May 29th, 2016 SeaStar Press
With NO STRANGER TO LOVE, USA Today Bestselling Author Pamela Aares delivers another page-turning contemporary romance in the Tavonesi Series featuring love, suspense and adventure!
Juliet Cabot is no stranger to trouble, but she never imagined that her work defending endangered sea turtles on a beautiful Greek island would turn deadly. Threats to her life force her to call for help from the man who's haunted her dreams for years—wine country landowner and international polo star Parker Tavonesi. Parker owes Juliet big time for getting him out of a fix in the past. Handsome, resourceful and fearless, she trusts him with her life but she vowed she would never trust him with her heart. When danger enshrouds them and warm island nights cause their bottled-up passions to flare, Juliet's every fantasy could become reality . . . Unless the dark secrets of a sultry paradise prove fatal, not just for the struggling sea turtles but for Parker and Juliet as well.
When Parker introduced Mark Gentry, the journalist who would be writing the Sommelier article, Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. A man wouldn’t read her thoughts as easily as a woman might.
But Barb Ellis, the photographer? She would be a different story. The moment Juliet first met the petite blonde’s direct gaze, she knew it would be harder work to hide her feelings from Barb. Still, there was no choice but to keep them in check. To the stylist’s dismay, Barb approved of the simple outfit Juliet wore and said that the only clothing change they’d need would be for the session in the wine cellar later that afternoon. Athena showed her the long silk evening gown Parker had chosen, and Barb gave a nod. Juliet enjoyed watching as Mark and Barb unraveled Parker’s carefully laid plans. The first shot they had set up in the kitchen had gone well, even if Parker hadn’t wanted to focus on “domestic life,” as he’d put it. But capturing the feel of their domestic life seemed to be what the Sommelier team was after. She had to suppress a smile when Barb ignored the shot Parker suggested setting up out front next to his Bugatti. Instead, they set the second shot up in the kitchen garden with Parker on one side of a raised wooden garden bed and Juliet on the other. When Juliet tossed a spade of dirt at him, Barb caught the playful exchange. Barb showed them the photo on the preview screen, and even Parker agreed the shot was perfect. Juliet’s heart warmed as she watched Parker’s struggle to give up control. What if that trait, that practice, was what helped him keep his life on track? Didn’t she have traits just as he did? She was almost as much of a stickler as he was for details. Timing wasn’t her forte, but she made lists, strategized plans and parsed days into segments with achievable goals. And like him, she didn’t appreciate altering her plans without a very good reason. “I’d like to get a few shots in the vineyard and maybe a couple more in the redwoods that I saw as we came up the drive,” Barb said as she packed up her camera. “It’d be great if you rode the horses. People love country riding scenes.” As Parker and Juliet rode out from the stables with Barb and Mark following in an all-terrain vehicle, Juliet saw Parker actually begin to relax. Barb called out to them to rein up and took a few close-ups of them on the horses. Then she directed them to dismount and pose among the newly leafing vines on one of the eastern slopes. Mark directed questions about the vineyard to Parker while Barb got the shots she wanted. Juliet relaxed. Posing was far easier than answering detailed questions. And listening to Parker speak about his vineyard was a pleasure she hadn’t expected. She hadn’t known that the pinot grapes preferred east-facing slopes because eastern slopes provided long sun exposure in the mornings but prevented the grapes from baking in the hot afternoon sun. Parker was especially pleased that he’d been able to resurrect some of the twenty-year-old vines that the previous owner’s grandfather had planted, even though they’d been neglected during a protracted five-year fight over the old man’s estate. Mark’s stomach let out a loud growl. “We missed breakfast,” he said with an embarrassed grin. Parker glanced at his watch. “Lunch in twenty minutes. You won’t leave here hungry, I assure you.” “I’d like to get those shots in the redwoods,” Barb said. “We could do that after lunch,” Parker said. Mark nodded his agreement. Barb tossed her head. “The light is perfect now. It won’t take long.” She was clearly the one in charge. Juliet knew Parker well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t be happy if his carefully orchestrated lunch didn’t go as planned. But he shrugged and helped Juliet mount Helki. He rode up close to her. “If Mark asks me questions about the redwood trees, feel free to jump in and answer. I’ve studied up on grapes, but I’m not much of a woodsman.” “No Boy Scout badges for camping?” “No Boy Scout badges at all. And I never understood camping. When I travel, it’s usually for polo. At the end of a match, I like a very hot shower, room service and a good bed.” The image of him in the shower shot into her, and she blushed. And thinking of him in bed sent the blood higher into her face. Gripping the reins, she forced her thoughts away from her surprising fantasies. “How about you?” His lips tipped up on one side in a smile she wished didn’t look so darn sexy. “Any badges for outdoor prowess?” She pointed to the sky. “I can tell you that the bird soaring above us is a red-shouldered hawk.” Anything to distract him from noticing the blush still spreading over her cheeks. “I’ve always been better with animals than with people,” she added. “More at home in nature. Especially the oceans.” “But you’re good with people. I see it.” “Is that a compliment?” “An observation.” She hoped his keen powers of observation didn’t include noting the flush in her face. “I’ve had to learn how to deal with people, almost like learning a new language. Especially the diplomatic bits that go along with my work. Kowtowing to authorities is pure torture.” “I appreciate your help with...” He glanced back to Mark and Barb behind them in the ATV. “With all this. With them.” “Everybody needs help sometime.” He shifted in his saddle. “I prefer helping to asking.” “I noticed.” She’d had to learn to ask for help and it hadn’t been easy. Being in anyone’s debt struck terror into her. But Parker? From what she’d observed, his aversion to asking for help was about maintaining control. And something deeper. Something he feared. Before she could wonder what had driven him to require such control, he lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. His smile caught her off guard. “Like I said—if they ask about the trees, jump right in.” In that instant, her vow transformed. She no longer wanted him begging her for forgiveness for his bossy ways. She wanted to understand him. He was her bestie’s brother; likely they’d know each other forever. Might as well find common ground. But as they posed among the redwoods for Barb’s camera, it wasn’t common ground she was discovering. Following Barb’s instructions, Parker had slid one arm behind Juliet and leaned her back against the rough bark, nearly cocooning her with his body. His hip touched hers and set her heart thumping against her ribs. She hauled in a breath, and his scent—spicy, male—filled her senses. “That’s it,” Barb called out from behind her lens. “Put one arm above her and turn a bit more toward her and the tree.” Parker raised his other arm. He was so close, Juliet could feel his breath on her cheek. She kept her gaze on Barb and hoped that her racing pulse didn’t show. “Juliet? Look him in the eye.” She lifted her gaze. What she saw in the depths of his gold-flecked green eyes had her fighting for control. “That’ll do,” Barb said. “I got my shot.” Juliet wriggled out from under Parker’s arm. He backed away but didn’t take his eyes off her. “You two are great subjects,” Barb said. “But you probably know that.” She peered at the screen on her camera. “I wouldn’t mind getting a few insurance shots, though.” Mark tapped his belly. “Nope. Lunch.” He motioned to the ATV. “We’ll race you back.” The chatter surrounding Juliet felt distant and far away. She swayed. Parker caught her before she toppled. “You need lunch more than Mark does,” Parker said as he curved an arm around her waist. “I should’ve had more breakfast.” If they hadn’t been so busy memorizing answers to questions that weren’t even being asked, she would’ve had a second helping of fruit salad. But it wasn’t low blood sugar that had made her dizzy. She didn’t want to think about the fact that Parker made her legs go wobbly. That was the stuff of tall tales and of TV shows she heard about but never watched. Parker pressed his hands to her shoulders and stared into her eyes. The concern she saw there was easier to register than the smoldering look that had sent her senses spinning just moments before.
When I'm writing I really struggle to keep healthy! So I try to make sure I never sit for more than thirty minutes at a time-- new research says that if you get up and walk, even if it's just around the house, for three minutes every thirty minutes it does so much for keeping the immune system and the body happy.
Food is also a challenge. I can often get so lost in writing that I forget to eat! And getting the required veggies and fruit into my day is more than a challenge. So I've come to rely on a green smoothie. I'm lucky-- if I'm cranking on a deadline, my dear hubby will make the smoothie for me and deliver it! (His way of making sure my books stay on track...)
PAMELA AARES' CHARGE UP THE MUSE SMOOTHIE
Serves 2. 1 frozen banana, cut into chunks 1 pear, cored 3+ slices fresh ginger 1 tbsp ground flax seeds 4 leaves of kale or more 2 c water 1 tbsp Manitoba Harvest Pro50 protein powder, or one of your choosing Instructions Combine first six ingredients including water and blend until smooth and creamy. Add protein power. Pour into a large glass and thrive.
Pamela Aares is a USA Today Bestselling, award-winning author of contemporary and historical romance novels. Her contemporary series, The Tavonesi Series, explores the lives, loves, friendships and sizzling romances of the Tavonesi family.
Her popularity as a romance writer continues to grow with each new book release, so much so, that the Bay area author has drawn comparisons by reviewers to Nora Roberts. Pamela Aares writes romance books that she loves reading, particularly those that entertain, transport and inspire dreams while captivating and tugging at the heart. She takes her readers on a journey with complex characters in both contemporary and historical settings who are thrown in situations that tempt love, adventure and self-discovery. Before becoming a romance author, Aares wrote and produced award-winning films including Your Water, Your Life, featuring actress Susan Sarandon and NPR series New Voices, The Powers of the Universe and The Earth’s Imagination. If not behind her computer, you can probably find her reading a romance novel, hiking the beach or savoring life with friends. You can visit Pamela on the web at http://www.PamelaAares.com. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
The Runner's Enticement
Men of Circumstance #2 By: Addie Jo Ryleigh Releasing May 18, 2016 Soul Mate Publishing
A Duke.
A Runner. An Earl. Three men, each born into different circumstances. Each fighting to overcome their own adversity. All striving to change their past. As much as Nathaniel Frederickson, bastard brother to the Duke of Wesbrook, loathes the status and consequence of his lowly birth, he has reinvented himself by becoming London’s leading Bow Street Runner. But no matter his success or his charm, he never seems to be good enough. Lady Annabel Baines, self-professed bluestocking, has one goal in life. To create a legacy for her deceased mother by ensuring the success of her school for young ladies. Even if it means being beholden to a man intent on ruining her life, forcing her to make impossible, heartrending choices. Assigned to recovering stolen artifacts, Nate is thrust into Anna’s privileged world. To make matters worse, he is forced to protect her from a mysterious threat she refuses to acknowledge. While fighting Anna’s stubbornness—and his unwanted fascination with the spoiled chit—Nate becomes the renewed target of a blackmailer thought to be destroyed . . . while a killer sets his sights on Anna. Will the well-born bluestocking ultimately save the bastard Runner?
His longer stride allowed him to reach her before she vanished into the shadows of the entry. Securing her elbow, he directed her to an empty room off to the left of the foyer. Time to remind Lady Annabel exactly who is in charge.
His quick maneuver only allowed for her to sputter in resistance. As soon as the door clicked shut, she yanked free and rounded on him. “How dare you mistreat me in such a way!” The flash of fire in her eyes held him spellbound. Gone was the perfectly put together gentlewoman. In her place stood a wild and captivating woman. The kind of woman he would easily welcome into his bed. At his silence she continued, “I should have you dismissed for your impertinence.” With the return of the haughty noble, the spell was broken. The heat simmering in her glare would never melt the coldness born of the nobility. His touch hadn’t been anywhere near brutish, but he recognized the meaning beneath her objection. “Forgive me, princess, for soiling your precious sleeve with my dirty hand.” Given the narrowing of her eyes, she knew, as well as he, his hands were as clean as hers. “I would never—” He didn’t give her the chance to launch into a lecture. He’d brought her here for a purpose. “We need to set a few things straight.” He ignored her sharply indrawn breath. “Firstly, I’m not your lackey. You may have the rest of England on a tether but you’ll never have me. I’m here to do a job and I’m not about to let an overindulged, spoiled brat stand in my way.” So much for being reasonable. There was just something about the petite Lady Annabel that provoked him beyond anything he’d experienced before. More than just her title stirred his blood. Even when faced with the most condescending members of the ton, Nate still managed to hold onto his dignity and poise. The entire mission might be manageable if she understood he would be the one setting the course. Moreover, if there was a threat to her safety, her rushing headlong into a situation could get her hurt—or even killed. “Secondly, I am not your lap dog. I won’t sit and stay on command. Or obediently follow where you lead. If you have somewhere you absolutely must be, you will inform me before we go gallivanting all over England. Your father hired me to do a job and dammit, I will do it the best way I know how. Which doesn’t include you dictating our every move. I am the professional, after all,” he tacked on for good measure. Given her glowering expression, she’d comprehended every word. And had found issue with each one. Oh, hell. She was about to become indignant. The last thing he needed was an overwrought silk-stocking who felt the world had wronged her. Why couldn’t Lawson have sent him to some corner of the country lacking the delicate sensibilities of the nobility? He’d have gone to Scotland if need be. Just when Nate thought he had her pegged and was prepared for her vicious onslaught, she took a steady breath and her eyes cleared like a passing storm. Her voice held complete calm when she answered, “Mr. Frederickson, since you found it within yourself to speak so . . . honestly . . . with me, I feel I should return the courtesy. First, I will concede you are the expert. My father wouldn’t have entrusted myself—or his collection—to anyone less than capable. However, I’m not about to set aside my freedoms on what we both know to be an overreaction on my father’s part.” She paused while he remained silent. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure how to respond. In the last minute, she’d destroyed every expectation he had. He didn’t get an opportunity to think on it as her eyes suddenly narrowed and pinned his boots to the floor. He felt like a wayward student who’d spoken out of turn. “I have never in my life treated someone as a lap dog. No matter if their arrogance demanded it. If you are looking for someone who has acted childish, Mr. Frederickson, I suggest you place yourself in an empty room and look in a mirror. Overindulged, spoiled brat indeed!” Her chest expanded with visible outrage as she finished chastising him.
Addie Jo Ryleigh writes historical regency romances that feature rakish heroes and strong feisty heroines. Addie Jo lives in the same cold winter and hot summer area of Minnesota where she was born and raised. And frankly, wouldn’t live anywhere else. Sharing in the raising of her three extremely rambunctious boys is her very understanding husband that so graciously enabled her to fulfill her dream of writing. Keeping Addie Jo company while she writes (besides her wonderfully loud children) is her yorkipoo, Bella, who is never far from Addie Jo’s side.
Addie Jo has always had a love and passion for romance books and became engrossed in historical romance (particularly Regency) soon after graduating from Lurlene McDaniel’s young adult books. Currently, Addie Jo reads any genre that has a great emotional story that keeps her reading into the early hours of the morning. Addie Jo has a bachelor degree in accounting and is a financial coordinator when not driving her children around central Minnesota, cuddled up with a good book, or writing her next story. Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads |