Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: EARL INTERRUPTED by Amanda Forester

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EARL INTERRUPTED (The Daring Marriages, Book 2) by Amanda Forester

Publication Date: January 2, 2018

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

A6DEE897-9376-4838-BEB0-2D4387530819After restoring his fortune as a notorious privateer, Captain Robert Ashton, Earl of Darington, goes to London in search of a bride. Instead, he finds unexpected dangers and unknown assailants. He is shot and left for dead. Life on the high seas was far calmer.

Enter Miss Emma St. James. She may appear sweet and demure, but she quickly proves herself to be equal to any challenge, including saving Darington’s life. Just when Darington is sure he has found his perfect bride, she reveals she’s betrothed to another.

Now things REALLY start to get complicated…

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Excerpt

“First sailed at twelve, joined right after my father’s death. First tour saw action at the Nile with Nelson,” said Darington in his understated manner.
“You were with Nelson at such a young age? Why, you are quite the hero,” exclaimed Emma.
“I ran powder. Tried not to get shot.”
“An admirable goal. I fully support it!”
Dare turned back to her with warm eyes. “Considering my recent experience, I quite agree.” His dark features gleamed a roguish enchantment in the moonlight.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Dare shrugged out of his greatcoat and, ignoring her murmurs of protest, put it around her shoulders. The heavy wool coat was warm from his own heat and stoked a fire within her. His scent lingered and she breathed deeply, feeling a little giddy at being draped in his coat as if wrapped in his arms.
“You should keep your coat. It is cold and you are still recovering,” Emma protested.
Dare gave her another of his shrugs and stepped close to her, reaching into the pocket of his coat that was wrapped around her. “This is for you.” He held out his hand, revealing a small, white shell.
Surprised, Emma took the small shell from his hand. It had a light gray, curved outside shell and a glossy, smooth, pink surface within. She looked up at him, wondering its significance. He continued to stare at her with an expectant air. She wished she understood the meaning of the gesture.
“Thank you.”
“It is for you,” he explained. “A gift. There are no flowers in January and your guardian is not present so…”
“Oh! A gift for me?” Emma realized this was his attempt at wooing her and her heart cracked open. “But how did you…? Please do not tell me you walked all the way to the beach to find me a shell.” She looked down from the edge of the cliff to the beach below.
“I confess Jonathan assisted me.”
“But you should not attempt such a thing. You are still recovering.”
“You said the purpose of the gift was not the object but the effort involved in the giving.”
“Oh, Dare!”
“Did I do it right?” The earnestness in his eyes made her heart ache.
“Yes, yes, you did it very well. Thank you. I will cherish it always.”
“Good.” Dare opened his mouth to say something but turned away instead, staring out over the ocean. She could not begin to guess his thoughts. Without his greatcoat, he appeared thin and lonely in the pale light, leaning on his walking stick.
Clearly, he had not given up his attempt to convince her to marry him. She would never take advantage of the situation to accept an offer made only out of obligation, but what if his heart had been truly touched? He certainly had gone to great effort. Would he act the same way out of a sense of honor? Given what Emma knew of the enigmatic man before her, he probably would.
Though she was already standing next to him, she stepped closer. “I must insist you take back your coat. I do not wish you to catch cold in your condition. And truly, you should rest.”
“No, no, my condition is very well, thanks to you.”
“But that does not mean you should freeze. Here, take back your coat. I am very warm, I assure you.” She stepped forward and attempted to place the coat back around his shoulders.
“No, I insist you keep it,” he protested, trying to keep the coat around her. Somehow, they ended up with one shoulder of the coat on him and one on her, standing so close their bodies brushed against one another.
Emma froze at the contact, looking up at the dark eyes of the Earl of Darington. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, his lips parted. His dark look was similar to when he had defended her from the highwaymen. This was the true Darington. He kept a calm, distant facade, but raging beneath the surface was something wild and dangerous. Her heart pounded, but instead of pulling away, she pressed closer.
He slowly wrapped his arms around her, inside of the greatcoat, pulling her closer to him. Her hands flew to his chest, but she did not push him away. Without a word, he slowly lowered his head. He stopped just inches away from her lips. She waited, the air between them crackling with anticipation. Was he going to kiss her? Was he going to come so close and not kiss her? Waiting was agony.
Swiftly, he put an end to the debate and claimed her mouth with his. His lips pressed against hers and he pulled her closer, parting her lips with his tongue and deepening the kiss. Emma reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, holding on tightly as her heart soared. She had never experienced anything like the sensation of kissing Darington. It was like flying, though her feet never left the ground.
When they finally parted, they both took deep breaths. His great coat slid to the ground, forgotten. She was certainly more than warm now. When his hand slid away from her waist, she noticed that it trembled.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, turning to face the crashing waves once more, holding his hands rigidly behind his back.
Emma took several more breaths before attempting speech. “That was…” She had not the words to describe it.
“An imposition on your person,” finished Dare without turning to her.
“No, no, that was not what I was going to say.”
“It was not?” He turned to her, a note of hope in his voice.
“No,” she replied firmly. “That was…quite remarkable.”

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of If the Earl Only Knew, the first book in Amanda Forester’s Daring Marriages series!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

Amanda Forester holds a PhD in psychology and worked many years in academia before discovering that writing historical romance was way more fun. A Publishers Weekly Top Ten author, her books have been given starred reviews from Booklist, Publishers Weekly, and a Top Pick from RT Book Reviews. Whether in the rugged Highlands of medieval Scotland or the decadent ballrooms of Regency England, her novels offer fast-paced adventures filled with wit, intrigue, and romance. She lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest outside Tacoma, Washington.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: HEART ON FIRE by Amanda Bouchet

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HEART ON FIRE (The Kingmaker Chronicles, Book 3) by Amanda Bouchet

Publication Date: January 2, 2018

Genre: Fantasy Romance

Synopsis

3AA81CAA-7A4F-45F5-A997-17CF4315882AThe riveting conclusion to The Kingmaker Chronicles!

GODS. I’M AN IDIOT.
Without Griffin—and apparently a few meddling Gods—to push me along, I’d still be telling fortunes at the circus, lying about my past, ignoring my future, and living as far away from my tyrant mother as humanly possible.

True understanding thuds into place. Hope isn’t just an abstract concept; it’s me. Flesh and blood me. Griffin knew it all along. Probably everyone did. I’m an idea in human form.

I have the power of the Gods at my fingertips.
The only thing ever stopping me has been me.

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Excerpt

Griffin’s hand tightens on my arm.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to fall in, you know. The cliff is all the way over there.”
He loosens his hold. Sort of.
I glance up at him, trying to tame my sudden smile. Domineering and overprotective doesn’t even begin to describe my husband. There’s also deliciously jealous, but that’s another subject all together. The black stubble framing his mouth makes his full lips look impossibly kissable. It’s been hours since they were last on mine. And I love to kiss the hawkish curve of his nose. So strong and masculine. I adore that nose. And the rest of him. His powerful body. Muscle. Sinew. Bone.
I gaze up at him, nearly sighing. “I love you.”
Griffin stops dead in his tracks and glares down at me. “That’s it. We’re leaving.”
I blink. “What? Why?”
“You think something terrible is going to happen.”
“No, I don’t.” I frown. “I don’t think so.”
His eyes narrow, wariness hardening his expression. “You do.”
“What are you talking about?”
He scowls at me.
“Well, something terrible could happen,” I concede. “But that’s always true, no matter where or when. Tomorrow, I could trip over my own feet and break my neck for all I know.”
Judging by the look on Griffin’s face, I don’t think that helped.
“You only say you love me or you’re sorry when you’re scared or almost dead. You’re not almost dead, so what’s scaring you?” he demands.
“I say I love you all the time!”
“When we’re in bed. When I’m so deep inside you that you can’t feel anything but me. Not when we’re about to knock on a stranger’s door. What’s scaring you?” he demands again.
I huff. “At the moment? The way your jaw is popping like it’s alive.”
Griffin crosses his arms. “I want honesty. Right now.”
Right now, Your Imperialness?”
His nostrils flare. His hard look is spectacular.
I’m not intimidated. It makes me hot. Then again, so does just about everything at the moment, but not in the same way.
“If you must know, the magic around here is a little intense and…disturbing, but it’s not scaring me. Not really. It’s probably just something coming from whatever is down there in that God Pit,” I say, waving toward the cliff. “I’m a shade nervous. That’s all.”
His eyes stay flinty and unconvinced. “That’s all? That’s not generally cause for a heartfelt declaration, at least not from you.”
I toss my hands in the air. “Fine. I take it back. I looked at you, found you incredibly desirable, and my body got all hot and tingly. I blame pregnancy for an excess of sentimentality and…and…urges!”
Griffin stares at me. Then his mouth splits into a grin that makes me all kinds of angry. He reaches for me again, his grasp lighter this time.
“Incredibly desirable?” Looking smug, he threads his fingers through mine.
Scowling, I poke him in the chest with my free hand. “Well, you do have that whole overbearing warlord thing going on. Plus, plenty of muscles in all the right places, some good ideas, and, you know, a really big sword.”
A laugh cracks out of Griffin, and my heart swoops like an off-balance bird. He’s rarely free with humor these days, or maybe there’s just not enough of it in our lives anymore. The happy flutter that wings through my chest takes any lingering irritation away with it.
Gah! Talk about mood changes!
Griffin captures my other hand and then pulls me in to him until I’m standing between his legs. “I love you, too, Cat.”
He kisses me, his mouth pressing softly against mine. Warmth rolls straight from his lips to my toes, which curl in my boots.
“Tell me again,” he coaxes.
I shake my head, our noses brushing.
“Say it,” he demands against my mouth.
“I don’t think so.”
“Last chance,” he warns, gently nipping at my lower lip.
“Big sword.”
Chuckling, Griffin swats my bottom. “There’s more where that came from.”
I look up at him through my lashes. “I sure hope so.”
He grins. “I think you just managed coy.”
“Good Gods! Has the Underworld frozen over?”
“Next, Centaurs will fly.” He brushes his lips over mine again, not lingering, and when he lifts his head, his black hair ruffling on the faintly sulfurous wind, the teasing gleam is already absent from his eyes. “You’re sure there’s nothing else?”
“Nothing besides our baby wreaking havoc on my moods?” I shake my head. “But I wanted you before. I want you always.”
He lifts his hand and brushes his thumb across my lips. Then his fingers fall away, trailing lightly down my arm until I shiver.
“You’re the air I breathe,” he says without a trace of humor in his voice.
My whole chest clenches hard, squeezing a tight, almost painful beat from my heart. “I admire you,” I reply. “I need you. I love you with all my heart.”
Griffin offers me a different kind of smile this time, small, lopsided, gentle, and so entirely genuine. It fades almost immediately, though, and he straightens to his full, imposing height, abruptly pinning me with his warlord stare. “If you feel anything off here, we leave, with or without the potion we came for. You’ve got great instincts, Cat. Trust your gut.”
I nod. I will. I always do.

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Giveaway

Enter to win a bundle containing A Promise of Fire and Breath of Fire, the first two books in Amanda Bouchet’s Kingmaker Chronicles!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

img_6082Award-winning author Amanda Bouchet grew up in New England and studied French at the undergraduate and graduate levels, first at Bowdoin College and then at Bowling Green State University. She moved to Paris, France in 2001 and has been there ever since. She met her husband while studying abroad, and the family now includes two bilingual children, who will soon be correcting her French.

 Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

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Review, Excerpt & Giveaway: COLLISION COURSE by Marie Harte

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COLLISION COURSE (Body Shop Bad Boys Series, Book 4) by Marie Harte

Publication Date: January 2, 2018

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

40CDE72B-818A-4E4B-9F5B-A836A13153AEHe’s always had a way with the ladies

She won’t give him the time of day

Sparks fly when two hearts in motion collide.

Florist Joey Reeves is working overtime to stay away from Lou Cortez, the ace mechanic with a reputation for irresistible charm. She’s a single mom with enough on her plate—the last thing she needs is entanglement with the hottest guy in town…

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Donna 4 stars

A nice quick read that kept me wondering how things would turn out. I enjoyed the friends and family surrounding Joey and Lou while the couple discovered how to mesh their lives together. This is a hot and sexy contemporary romance, with realistic life issues. I will admit that the climax scene bothered me…if I were Joey – I would have kicked Lou’s butt to the curb until he thought long and hard about his preconceived ideas about her. It was still an enjoyable story.

*Review copy provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Excerpt

The sight of Lou’s pleasure made Joey feel good for having caused it…and gave her dirty thoughts. Totally inappropriate, rated-R kind of thoughts, which had no place in a coffee shop, for God’s sake. She really needed to get back out in the dating world if a smile got her so hot and bothered. She glanced back down at her latte.
Lou sipped his own drink, then answered, “Today I got to sketch an amazing hood for a sweet Corvette this car collector brought in for a job.”
“Huh?”
“I work at Webster’s Garage fixing cars. On the mechanics of them. But I work at Heller’s Paint and Auto Body doing custom artwork. You know, like custom paint jobs?”
“Really?” She studied him, wondering about him. “So you’re an artist.”
“Yep.”
“So if my car gets a ding and needs paint to cover it…”
“You hit Maaco. Or you go to Heller’s, and his body shop dudes fix you up. You want a bitchin’ barbarian queen on your VW van, you call me.” He grinned. “Although somehow I don’t see you driving an old van.”
“More like a crappy little Toyota, but hey, it runs.”
“So does mine.”
She nodded, oddly at ease talking with the man. She watched his face, saw his genuine interest in the conversation, and warmed. “You did the work on your car. The snake along the side that disappears in the back. That’s your drawing.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s amazing. Were you always into art?”
Lou shrugged. “I was kind of forced into it.” He nudged her pastry. “You going to eat that or pull it apart?”
She took a bite, chewed, and asked, “What can you draw? Anything? Or just snakes and skeletons and half-naked barbarian queens?” As soon as she said it, she heard herself sounding so flirty she wanted to bury her head under the table.
Lou laughed. “That’s what my mother thinks I do. Draw naked people all day. I did it once when I was in high school, and she never let me forget it.”
Joey smiled. “Caught you, huh?”
“Yeah. But that was okay because if I was at home drawing late into the night, I wasn’t out robbing a liquor store or rolling some rich jerks for money.” At her look of shock, he sighed. “What can I say? I grew up under the influence of some not-so-nice people. A few smaller-scale gangs. I was a rebellious kid living in a houseful of women, so you can see why I wanted some guys to hang out with. Fortunately, my mother doesn’t play.”
She stared, wide-eyed.
“A short stint in corrections when I was ten helped change my mind-set. Well, that and my mother slapping me upside the head, sticking me on babysitting duty for my younger sisters, then having my aunts sit on me. I had nowhere to go but crazy. So when she offered to let me try art lessons to get away from all the women in the house, I went. Turned out I had a knack for drawing, and it stuck.”
“I’ll say.” His car was amazing.
“Enough about me. What about you? Have you always wanted to work with flowers? That’s a pretty creative profession.”
Surprisingly pleased to have something in common with the man, she nodded. “I always liked creating things, and I love the outdoors. Gardening especially. When I was younger, my parents kept pushing me to be a doctor, a lawyer, an engineer.” She sighed, aware she’d fallen way below the mark in their estimation. “But I ended up falling into the flower shop right out of high school. I needed a job, wasn’t ready for college.” Not with a baby in hand. She didn’t plan to mention Brandon to Lou, mostly because she didn’t share her boy with strangers. Even good-looking ones. Her baby never got to know her dates, rare though they were. Not unless she planned to get serious, and it had been eight long years since she’d considered a real relationship with anyone other than her son.
“Well, you’re great at it, I have to say.” Lou nodded. “My sister’s eyes about fell out of her head. She forgot all about the asswipe who dumped her. Thanks for that.”
She blushed. “Sure. I love flowers. They’re bright and cheerful.”
“And dead. Sorry, but I had to point that out.”
She frowned. “Yeah, but even in death they bring joy.”
“Good point. Open your mouth.”
She parted her lips to ask why and got a bite of bear claw for her trouble. Her lips brushed his finger, and her heart seemed to stop. The sugar in her mouth broke her paralysis, and she chewed for all she was worth.
“Eat. It’s killing me you’re not enjoying this.” He broke a piece off and tried it, feeding himself with the same fingers that fed her. “Oh man. This is good.”
She swallowed before saying, “I know. Why do you think I get one whenever I come in here?”
“You come here a lot?”
“When I was helping Del with her wedding, I went to the garage a few times. This was a great place to get my morning coffee.”
“A caffeine addict, huh? Me too.” He nodded. “I typically stay away from the sweets though.” He eased out of his jacket, and she nearly choked on her drink.
She stared at his conditioned torso, seeing the volume of muscle. “I can tell.” Good God. The man was seriously ripped. He leaned to drape the jacket fully over the chairback, and she noted the hint of a tattoo on his left arm, just under the T-shirt.
“Eat up.” He held another bite out to her, but this time she took it from his fingers, not wanting them near her lips. The last time had nearly shot her into cardiac arrest, and it felt way too intimate for a first just-getting-to-know-you kind of date.
They chewed, watching each other. For the life of her, Joey didn’t understand why Lou had such an impact on her, a woman who’d sworn off men. A guy like him, so much bigger than life, handsome, and, yes, charming, was after her? A pretty but not spectacular woman who worked in a flower store?

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Giveaway

Marie Harte’s Prize Pack

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

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About the Author

Award-winning author Marie Harte has been writing professionally since 2005. She’s both a NY Times and USA Today bestselling author and has written over 100 books and counting. Marie writes books with heat, humor, and character.

She writes independently and for several publishers, to include Sourcebooks and Samhain. Though currently writing contemporary romance, she also writes paranormal and romantic suspense.

Before turning to writing full-time, she earned a B.A. in English from Pennsylvania State University and spent several years in the United States Marine Corps as a communications officer.

Marie currently lives in Central Oregon with her family. There’s nothing she likes more than finding a good book to read and a great cup of coffee to drink.

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: HEART OF THE WOLF by Terry Spear

HEART OF THE WOLF (10th Anniversary Edition): Heart of the Wolf Series Book 1 by Terry Spear

Publication Date: January 2, 2018

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Synopsis4001412C-C13E-4B8D-972B-D23236AD9845

Celebrate Ten Years Of Paranormal Romance From Beloved Author Terry Spear

Danger, intrigue, and forbidden love in a wolf shifter world so compelling, you’ll swear it’s real life…

Bella, a female red werewolf, was adopted by a pack of gray wolves as a pup. Now grown up, the alpha of the pack tries to make her his mate against her will—Bella knows she has no choice but to run away.

She makes her way as a lone wolf until childhood friend, Devlyn, comes to bring her home. On their journey back, they get tangled in up in unimaginable danger and must apprehend a werewolf murderer while keeping their identity secret from humans. The chemistry between them sizzles like never before…but they both know if they mate, Devlyn will have to fight the pack’s wicked alpha…and it’s a fight to the death.

As a companion to Bella and Devlyn’s story, this edition includes an exclusive, brand new novella that brings the story of the lupus garou family full circle.

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Excerpt

But Devlyn had to make sure. She could have been any one of a number of lone red lupus garou females all across the States. Or not. Because such a shortage existed, he sure as hell hoped Argos was right—that she was their stubborn Bella.
When Devlyn saw her in the pen at the zoo, he knew. He couldn’t be angry with her for having run away—but for her to risk proving to the world that lupus garous existed? That was irresponsible and unforgivable. At least that’s what he told himself, though his heart ached to hold her close again, only this time to claim her for his own.
Devlyn stalked toward the door of his hotel suite. “All right. Let’s break our little red wolf out of jail.” The notion that she was theirs, though, struck a chord. She wasn’t theirs. She belonged to Volan. Fire burned in Devlyn’s veins with the thought. Ever since Devlyn had rescued her near the river, the wildfire in hot pursuit of her, Volan had wanted her, too.
For years Devlyn had pinned her to the ground in their wolf states, avoiding her retaliatory bites, playing with her as young wolves frolicked. He still wanted to tackle her to the ground, to force her reaction, to have her pay attention to him. But the burning desire to have her for his mate drove away any notion of having another female.
He hurried his four younger male cousins out to the SUV with Argos at his side in the freezing drizzle. The black-haired, amber-eyed quadruplets, twenty-two years of age, all itched for a fight as they clenched their fists and steeled their square jaws.
Devlyn slammed his door. “If we wait much longer, she’ll have changed and be half frozen in this weather.” He’d rescue her again. He had to. Not for Volan, but for his own greedy desires. But what to do with her afterwards? He knew what he wanted to do with her. Make her his…forever…his mate for life.
But with Volan still living, how could Devlyn hope to take her for his own? That question had plagued him every minute of the day since he’d learned she still lived.
***
Backed into the confines of the wolf den, Bella spread her arms out, slowly, in her crouched position, to make herself appear larger. “Back off, Big Red.”
He continued to snarl. She took a step forward, and shivered, but it wasn’t the chill in the air that made her tremble. The notion that the zoo staff would catch her in the wolves’ den in human form forced concern to worm its way into every pore.
Big Red held his ground.
She took another step in his direction. Her eyes remained locked onto his. He didn’t back down.
Wrinkling her nose, she bared her not-very-scary human teeth. Anything to show him she wasn’t intimidated by his posturing.
After what seemed like an eternity of an old western gunfight showdown, he turned, and trotted out of the den. She took a deep breath, then quickly followed him out. The icy drizzle coated her skin. Hoping to make her escape easily, she crossed the pen to the keeper’s door.
Locked.
Her stomach muscles tightened with irritation. Heading for the water trough, she thought to use it as a step in the moat. But it was filled to the brim with water, and she couldn’t budge it. Her frustration level mounted, but her body temperature dropped rapidly with the chilly wet breeze swirling about her.
What she wouldn’t have given for her wolf’s thick undercoat—the dense second coat of fur virtually waterproof, a thermal insulator so effective even snow falling on her back wouldn’t melt.
She hurried to the edge of the moat and considered the height of the wall across from the pen. Big Red watched her from a corner of the pen, but never made a menacing move toward her. She’d probably confused the hell out of him. She smelled like a wolf in heat, the same one he wanted to mate, but she didn’t look like one in the least bit now. Poor fellow.
She sat on the edge of the concrete, the substance icy and rough on her bare bottom. After twisting around, she clung to the edge with frigid fingers, then dropped into the moat. It was about a six-and-a-half-foot drop and, with her five-four height, easy to make. But when she turned to consider the other side her heart filled with alarm.
Whether the wall rose eight feet or ten…didn’t matter. She didn’t see any way to climb the rough concrete without foot or hand holds. She turned back to the other side. Her heart fell. She wouldn’t be able to climb out that way, either.
The cold had already affected her mind, slowing her ability to think. The shock at turning into her human form earlier than she’d planned had compelled her to panic.
Great. Just great. The next morning, the zookeepers would find a half-frozen, naked woman in the moat. She jumped at the shorter side, but couldn’t reach the top edge.
After several tries, she did what went against every instinct for survival—she gave up and yelled for help.

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of Between a Wolf and a Hard Place by Terry Spear!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling author TERRY SPEAR has written over 35 paranormal romances featuring werewolf and jaguar shapeshifters. In 2008, Heart of the Wolf was named a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year. A retired officer of the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry also creates award-winning teddy bears that have found homes all over the world. She lives in Spring, Texas.

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: COWBOY SEAL HOMECOMING by Nicole Helm

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COWBOY SEAL HOMECOMING (Navy SEAL Cowboys, Book 1) by Nicole Helm 

Publication Date: January 2, 2018

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

77BAF9E1-9AD8-49ED-815E-1F3AEC988E49Three former Navy SEALs
Injured in the line of duty
Desperate for a new beginning…
Searching for a place to call their own.

Alex Maguire never thought he’d go home again. The perfect soldier, the perfect leader, he’s spent his whole life running away from Blue Valley, Montana—but when a tragic accident bounces him and two of his men out of the SEALs, there’s nowhere left to turn but the ranch he used to call his own…and the confusing, innocently beguiling woman who now lives there.

Becca Denton’s like nothing he could have imagined. She’s far too tempting for her own good, but when she offers to help turn the ranch into a haven for injured veterans, he can’t exactly say no. He’ll just need to keep his distance. But something in her big green eyes makes Alex want to set aside the mantle of the perfect soldier and discover the man he could have been…safe and whole within the shelter of her arms.

The Prodigal SEAL has come home.

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Excerpt

Alex didn’t care if things had changed. Of course things had changed. That was what things did. They changed. Things could look exactly the same on the outside and be completely different on the inside.
Which was a metaphor for jack shit. And it didn’t bother him in the least.
He filled three mugs, leaving the fourth empty for when Jack appeared. He set one on the counter next to where Becca was scrambling eggs and then took his and Gabe’s to the table.
“You, uh, said something about Dad rehiring Hick, right? Does he do the morning chores?” Alex asked.
“He handles most of the stuff with the cattle. I see to the horses. I’m sure Hick’ll be glad to have help though. He’s been hiring some seasonal staff, but it’s hard when we don’t have a place for them to stay.”
“Obviously…” Alex trailed off at the sound of a—he actually didn’t know what that sound was. Gabe was looking around the kitchen trying to find the source of it too.
Becca cursed and wiped her hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter. “Damn it, Ron Swanson.”
Alex exchanged confused glances with Gabe. Gabe shrugged. Becca hurried out of the kitchen and Alex followed her. She went straight toward Dad’s office, which caused Alex to pause.
Before she could get to the hallway that led to the office and the mudroom, an animal clopped forward.
Becca fisted her hands on her hips. “You know you’re not supposed to do this,” she scolded.
The animal was not a dog or a cat or any normal inside, domesticated pet. It was a goat. And it bleated at her as if in answer.
What the fuck?
Becca glanced over her shoulder at him. “Ron Swanson here figured out how to use the doggie door. When he’s feeling particularly mischievous, he tends to try and sneak in.”
“Why…” So many whys. “Why do you have a goat who sneaks in through a dog door?”
“Long story. Will you finish with the eggs while I get him back outside where he belongs?”
“Yeah. You grab the goat, and I’ll fix the eggs. This is totally normal.”
She laughed. Such a pretty sound. Oddly comforting. Strange to realize it was something he hadn’t had enough of in the past ten years—pretty women laughing.
“If you came here looking for normal, boy, you came to the wrong place,” she said, sounding mostly amused.
She lunged for the goat then, and Alex watched with morbid fascination. She got her arms around its neck, but it bleated and kicked and Becca swore.
“You’re feisty today, Ron. I really don’t like it when you’re feisty,” she muttered to the goat.
To. The. Goat.
The goat bucked again and Becca lost her grip as she dodged the kick. The goat took off toward the kitchen. Without thinking the action through, Alex made a move to block the hallway, but the goat was a tiny, little thing and darted right between his legs.
“The hell?”
“Goats are very smart,” Becca replied, hurrying past him. “We better get him before he eats everything.”
“Again, how do you have a goat that goes through the doggie door?”
“It’s a—”
“Long story, right.” He followed her to the kitchen, his long strides easily matching Becca’s jog.
Back in the kitchen, Gabe was standing in the corner by the stove looking wide-eyed and horrified. Alex could hardly blame him. The damn animal was now standing on top of the kitchen table.
“Why the fuck is there a goat on the kitchen table?” Gabe asked, all but pressing himself into the corner of the counter.
“You’re more afraid of a goat than a sniper?” Alex asked, grinning.
“Damn straight. I know what the hell to do with a sniper.”
“He’s mostly harmless, just desperate to be human,” Becca said, calmly studying the goat.
Alex didn’t know how to feel about this except baffled and entertained all at the same time. “With a name like Ron Swanson, I can’t say I blame him.”
“Do they bite?” Gabe demanded.
Becca laughed again, and Alex didn’t fail to notice Gabe had much of the same reaction he did—a startled look at Becca. Then a little bit of a smile at the sound.
It was a strange moment, all in all, to feel with a true, bone-deep certainty he’d done the right thing and come to the right place. He didn’t often let himself doubt it, but they needed this—laughter and home. Even if it meant a goat on the kitchen table.
“All right. Who’s going to help me grab him?” Becca asked.
Alex felt a certain lightness that had definitely been missing for a while. “Since Gabe’s a coward, I think it’ll be me.”
She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to smile as she stood next to one corner of the table. Alex situated himself across from her. Her gaze met his over the body of the miniature goat.
She grinned, a full-on grin he would never have expected from her.
“Welcome home, Alex,” she said, green eyes dancing with humor.
He could only laugh.

~*~*~*~

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Buy Links
Kindle | Amazon Paperback

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Giveaway

Enter to win a copy of Outlaw Cowboy by Nicole Helm!

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About the Author

Nicole Helm grew up with her nose in a book and a dream of becoming a writer. Luckily, after a few failed career choices, a husband, and two kids, she got to pursue that dream. Nicole writes down-to-earth contemporary romance. From farmers to cowboys, midwest to the west, she writes stories about people finding themselves and finding love in the process. When she’s not writing, she spends her time dreaming about someday owning a barn. She lives with her husband and two young sons in Missouri. She is slightly (okay, totally) addicted to Twitter (@nicolethelm), the St. Louis Cardinals, and someday owning a barn.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Spotlight, Guest Post & Giveaway: The Power of a SEAL by Anne Elizabeth

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The Power of a SEAL (West Coast Navy SEALs, #5) by Anne Elizabeth

Publication Date: December 5, 2017

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

15A9A3C8-FFA6-4A5F-B028-82D4B03A7E07With over two decades of experience, Navy SEAL Leaper Lefton is bringing his expertise to young and impressionable SEAL trainees in BUD/s. As an instructor, he knows he must prepare them for all kinds of situations—and there’s a perfect opportunity for hands-on training when he spots a woman in danger in rough water. Kerry Hamilton, a marine mammal veterinarian for the U.S. Navy is beyond grateful when Leaper saves her from the rough seas, and their attraction is instant. But after everything Leaper has been through, can he truly love again? And is Kerry willing to give him the chance?

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback 

West Coast Navy SEALs Series

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Author Guest Post

Anne Elizabeth’s favorite holiday traditions

ORNAMENTS AND REMEMBRANCES

Opening holiday storage boxes is an emotional experience. We carefully unwrap childhood trinkets, handmade ornaments, craft projects, old pictures, weathered stockings, and scented candles. Even as the wood in the fireplace snaps and crackles, emitting small plumes of smoke, we carefully fill the surfaces of the living room, every table, chair, and couch with our mementoes. Putting together an old recycled Christmas tree and placing the cool-lights around, we place the ornaments together.

For my husband and me, this has become a time of heartbreaking sorrows and soul-touching moments, remembering those who have passed or those who have become physically or mentally more fragile. We honor these precious souls by decorating ornaments with their names, quotes, or pictures to honor each spirit with a unique creation and then we place it on the tree. It does not erase the pain, but it helps us celebrate treasured souls and share experiences about what these individuals have meant to us.

As we dim the lights and plug in the tree, we are grateful for each opportunity to love. Every day is a gift, whether it is for a brief moment or a lifetime, it adds to life’s journey. From our home to yours: May your holiday season be blessed with health, happiness, and delight, and may peace and joy flourish.

Do you have handmade ornaments? Do you treasure them? And, how do you remember those who have passed?

TIME

During the holidays, music fills the house. Some of our favorite singers are Eartha Kitt and Nat King Cole. The holiday classics make us nostalgic, and I love those times when my husband pulls me into his arms and dances with me. Oh, to dwell in those romantic moments, as we cuddle close and move slowly to the rhythm. This harmonious connection chases away every thought, except for one–being together. As my husband nuzzles my neck, I smile musing on the fact that this is my all-time favorite part of the holidays. Being together. Connection and music, whether it comes from the stereo or from our hearts, this time is the best gift of all.

Is there something special you do with your mate, a friend, or family member?

HOLIDAY SENSATIONS

On Christmas Eve, it’s a tradition in our home to make hot cider. I’ll pull out the chipped crockpot with the broken handle. After rinsing the detachable bowl and top, I’ll add fresh cider, granny smith apple slices (leaving the skin on), the peel of half of a lemon and the entire peel of a whole orange. Then I’ll add three cinnamon sticks, a dash of allspice, and anise, and as soon as it heats to a boil I’ll add a tablespoon of maple syrup. After stirring in the syrup for a full minute, I turn the heat down to warm and prepare to serve it about twenty minutes later. The scent of mulled-goodness fills the room as I make popcorn with real butter and a dash of pink salt. It might not be the most gourmet approach, but for us, the taste sensations are delicious. Have a blessed holiday season!

Are there any special recipes that you make during the holiday season?

RAISE YOUR VOICE

Holiday songs remind me of my childhood. Attending church with my parents and brother, and listening to the exuberance with which the congregation sang inspired intense warmth and comfort. Voices lifted in song varied from out-of-key to perfectly pitched tones, and it was wondrous! Each individual contributed to the joy as we created these beautiful sounds together.

After services, most of the congregation was full of cheer and would hurry outside for hot cocoa or tea. With cups in hand, we walked as a group down to the live action crèche. It was here that we sang the last Christmas song of the night, Away In The Manger. Of course, the goats bleated and donkeys brayed along with the clucking chickens and mooing cow; and all the sounds blended together. To this day, I still wonder if the animals were commenting or singing along.

Do you have a special holiday song, and why is it a favorite?

SNOWFLAKES

Living in Southern California, snow is a rarity. In Julian, we see snowstorms now and then, but nothing can compare to the snow seen in the rest of the United States. Yet, we are full of glee the moment a flake drops from the sky. I always rush outside and turn my face upward in hope of tasting the first snowflake. When I was little, I believed that each snowflake tasted differently, because my brother said that this was so. Even though, I’m all grown-up now, in my imagination I still pretend that there are sorts of unique flavors out there, and I’ll keep catching snowflakes in remembrance of him.

Are you ever tempted to catch snowflakes on your tongue? What’s your favorite childhood winter memory?

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Giveaway

5 Copies of The Power of a SEAL

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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About the author

97BCC795-2BDD-4174-8FF6-00036C9D1552Anne Elizabeth is a romance author, comic creator, and a monthly columnist for RT Book Reviews magazine. With a BS in Business and MS in Communications from Boston University, she is a regular presenter at conventions as well as a member of The Author’s Guild and Romance Writers of America. Anne lives with her husband, a retired Navy SEAL, in the mountains above San Diego.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

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Spotlight, Guest Post & Giveaway: THE LORD MEETS HIS LADY by Gina Conklin

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THE LORD MEETS HIS LADY (Midnight Meetings Book 3) by Gina Conklin

Publication Date: December 5, 2017

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

C7A91B6B-B5B6-44EF-BF17-8A13583F9BBBLord Marcus Bowles has stained his family’s reputation for the last time. Only after spending a scandal-free year restoring some far-flung property can this second son return in good graces. But Marcus isn’t one to abandon a lone damsel on a dark country lane.

One stolen kiss and Genevieve Turner’s handsome midnight savior disappears. Typical. No matter, Gen is finally on the way to her new post, and hopefully to finding her grandmother as well. Instead she finds her mischievous hero is her new employer. Surely a few more kisses won’t hurt…

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Excerpt

Lord Bowles set one hand on the dark-stained oak and pushed, all the while watching her with gentle determination as she rose awkwardly from the floor. Iron hinges whined a lethargic turn before the door clicked shut on honking fowl. The entry dimmed but was no less luminous for the unexpected sparks between them. Lord Bowles was a dose of good French brandy at the wrong time of day, enticing but entirely unsuitable.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
His lordship missed nothing. He was like a thief-taker digging for the truth. In their two meetings, he’d shown more substance than the aimless wastrel people claimed him to be. For the first time since she left London, she missed the clamor and the crowds. This quiet between her and Lord Bowles, it denuded her.
“Nervous? A little.” Her attention flittered over him. “The part of me that finds you handsome. Too handsome for your own good.”
He blinked, his lips parting. Well-shod feet shifted and another beat of stillness passed. Did she surprise him? Good. Unease melted off her back from satisfaction of his lordship being the one off center. Served him right for coming here like this.
She wiped dough-flecked hands in her apron as though she had all the time in the world. “And since I’m being forthright, milord, I wanted some time to myself. You don’t get much of that living above The Golden Goose.”
“No, I suppose not.”
With his wind-mussed queue and rumpled brown velvet coat, Lord Bowles could be any man awaiting acceptance of a social call. He was a dangerous flirt with genuine, friendly appeal, endearing qualities that played havoc with her resolve, but she would be firm.
Her head tipped at an open doorway off the entry. “The parlor is that way, milord. I’ll fetch some coffee for you.”
She headed to the kitchen, her skin prickling across her bottom and thighs. Lord Bowles watched her. Ambling footsteps sounded in the small dining room behind her. He wasn’t going to be a docile guest.
Did his lordship think he’d found a convenient light skirt?
Crossing the kitchen, she tensed, expecting footfalls to follow her on the flagstone floor. A knee to a man’s baubles sent a clear message to overzealous men at The Golden Goose. With her employer’s friend, she’d have to use different tactics.
At the hearth, she checked the roast in the cooking hastener, but no footsteps came, nor did a hand palm her bottom. One glance at the kitchen showed Lord Bowles lounging in the doorway, one hand resting in his coat pocket. The corners of his mouth curled up as if he read women all the time and knew their secrets.
“Thought I’d wait here, save you the trip to the parlor with my coffee.”
“Because I’m of delicate constitution?” She reached for the spindle jack hanging from a rafter above the hearth.
“No, because I like watching you.”
Her cheeks warmed and her nipples poked her stays. “Lord Bowles…” she began sternly.
“I know,” he said smiling shamelessly. “I’m being inappropriate with my friend’s housekeeper. Can we agree to talk freely when we’re alone? I’ll curb myself when others are around.”
“I can’t lose this position, milord.” She started winding the spindle jack, a slow and noisy effort. Her breasts jostled and the flush spread down her neck and chest. There was no denying, it was nice being the object of his improper interest.
The Beckworth kitchen was bright with limestone walls and a cheery, yellow cabinet, not a typical haunt for the likes of Lord Bowles. He’d seek amusement elsewhere. With turnips on the table and bread rising in a bowl, his boredom with this rustic kitchen was her best weapon.
“There is a point to my visit,” he said loudly. “I come bearing an offer of help.”
“Help? With what?” she asked above the cranking cogs.
Lord Bowles stepped cautiously down into the kitchen. “I’d rather have a decent conversation with you than yell across the room.” He gestured to the long pine table near the hearth. “May I have a seat? I promise to behave. We’ll have a table between us.”
Her arm burned from working against the spindle’s tension and the heavy roast by her knees. She was about to give him a set down, but she spied that silly hole in his stocking and softened.
No flirting, milord.”
He smiled boldly. “On my honor, none. We’ll be solemn as clergymen.”
“Clergymen,” she huffed and blew a wayward wisp off her face. “A few minutes. No more.”
He crossed the kitchen and took a seat at the table. She cranked harder. The string was nearly wound around the pulley.
“What is this offer of yours?”

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Author Guest Post

How to Enjoy London Like a Georgian

The Georgian era was a fascinating shift from pastoral to urban living. The economic boom brought scientific advances. Much of the populace elevated themselves to a better place in life—especially the merchant class. Entertainments abounded. Life’s little luxuries were affordable. People enjoyed a diversity of products pouring into London on a regular basis.

In researching the Midnight Meetings series, I came across many surprises. You could call this list 5 things for an interesting life in London:

  1. The British Museum. Seeds for the world-renowned institution were planted in 1753 with the death of physician Hans Sloane. A naturalist with a love for all things exotic, Sloane had purchased the house next door to warehouse his unique collections. People traveled far and wide to visit the house in Bloomsbury, finding a hodgepodge of international oddities.
  2. Trustees of Sloan’s estate didn’t know what to do with Sloane’s things. They tried to give the collection King George II, but he didn’t want it. Parliament acquired the collection and by 1759 the official British Museum opened its doors to the public.
  3. Hot air balloon-mania hit England in the 1780s. It’s been reported that 200,000 people (royalty included in that number) showed up at the Artillery Ground of Moorfields to see a demonstration by Vincenzo Lunardi. He ascended without incident (other than his cat, which he took along for the ride, getting sick). The charming Italian was quite popular. Hawkers sold Lunardi fans, garters, and bonnets.
  4. Pets ranged from the regular to the exotic. Unusual pet ownership spread amongst all classes with animals like a mongoose, ring-tailed lemurs, and marmosets. The Tower of London had a zoo open to the public, featuring jackals, lions, monkeys, baboons, and even an Indian elephant. Great beasts from around the world were housed in the Tower as far back as the 13th century.
  5. Fine furniture became egalitarian with Chippendale’s innovations to the industry. In the past, fashionable homeowners clamored for furniture fashionable made by high-end designers. Those men signed each furniture piece they made the way painters sign a painting. Then along came Chippendale. He published his Gentleman and Cabinetmaker’s Director (a design book) which changed how the English bought and made furniture.

Design books weren’t new, but Chippendale’s approach was revolutionary. He presented the furniture as part of interior design: think presenting whole sets for a drawing room rather than an individual piece on a page. Chippendale hired men to make furniture for him, but his book not only changed ensemble decorating, it fostered a Do-It-Yourself approach to fine furniture-making. Humble gentry purchased Chippendale’s books and crafted their own fine furniture (such as my character, Mr. Samuel Beckworth in The Lord Meets His Lady).

The resourceful woman created her own future. The nobility watched over their daughters lest those young women go astray, but other classes of London enjoyed a kind of bare-knuckle freedom. Life was harsh on the fair-sex. Yet, many women refused to be victims of the times. Some forged a good life in commerce. Publisher Elizabeth Nutt is one such example. She ran a cluster of shops near the Royal Exchange where she sold respectable publications.  She was also listed as “Mercury Woman”, a printer of seditious and sometimes salacious material on Grubb Street. She ran the business with her daughters.

London, no matter the era, was and is a place of opportunity for those who seek adventure on its streets. ~Gina

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Giveaway

5 Copies of THE LORD MEETS HIS LADY

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About the Author

Gina Conkle writes sensual Georgian romance and lush Viking romance. Her books offer a fresh, addictive spin on the genre, with the witty banter and sexual tension that readers crave. She grew up in southern California and despite all that sunshine, Gina loves books over beaches and stone castles over sand castles. Now she lives in Michigan with her favorite alpha male, Brian, and their two sons where she’s known to occasionally garden and cook.

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: THE DUKE KNOWS BEST by Jane Ashford

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THE DUKE KNOWS BEST (The Duke’s Sons, #5) by Jane Ashford

Publication Date: December 5, 2017

Genre: Historical Romance

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59CFE8AF-0265-4AAD-842E-37D79AC5658BThey’re wrong for each other, for all the right reasons…

Lord Randolph Gresham has come to London for one reason only-to find a suitable wife. Verity Sinclair may be intelligent, beautiful, and full of spirit, but her father knows a secret about Randolph that makes her entirely unsuitable as his bride. Not right for him at all, never, not a chance.

Verity knows that Lord Randolph lives in a country parish, and she wants nothing more than to escape to town. He may be fascinating, attractive, rich, and the son of a duke, but she’ll never marry him, nor will she talk to him, flirt with him, walk with him, or dine with him. She’ll sing a duet with him, but only this one time, and only because everyone insists.

But one duet invariably leads to another.

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Looking around the front hall of Langford House, with its soaring stair and rich marble floor, Verity judged it the grandest house she’d ever entered. Light poured down from high windows, glittered in a huge crystal chandelier, and gleamed in the gold stripes of the wallpaper. A hint of potpourri scented the air, along with beeswax and lemon. The clatter of the London streets didn’t penetrate the gracious silence. “Goodness,” murmured her mother. Verity was determined not to be intimidated.
A liveried footman led them through two beautiful reception rooms to the back of the house. He opened a door and stood back. Verity and her mother stepped over the threshold into a perfectly splendid music room. For a moment Verity forgot everything else as she took in the fine instruments waiting to be played, the older ones adorning the walls, and the piles of expensive sheet music. She could spend hours in a place like this and be blissfully happy, she thought.
And then a tall, stately woman came forward to greet them, and Verity was making her curtsy to the duchess, as well as wondering where Lord Randolph could be.
He hurried in on the heels of that thought. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I was just… Mama, this is Mrs. Sinclair and Miss Verity Sinclair. Ladies, my mother.”
“Your Grace,” they murmured.
The duchess said, “Welcome to Langford House.” And with the warmth in her blue eyes and the ease of her smile, Verity felt the atmosphere in the room change from grandiose to relaxed. Or perhaps it was simply her own mood that had shifted, she thought. As they sat down and exchanged remarks about the weather and the season, she found she could talk to Lord Randolph’s mother with surprising ease.
“I know you have musical matters to discuss,” said the duchess after a while. She rose. “I will leave you to it. But I wanted to make sure you have all you need, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“You’re very kind.”
“I’ve seen to the arrangements, Mama,” said Lord Randolph.
“Sponge cakes and macaroons?” she asked.
“What else?”
The humorous look they exchanged gave Verity a glimpse into the Gresham family, which seemed a pleasant place. The door opened, and a maid came in with several sturdy working candles. “You said you’d bring some embroidery,” said Lord Randolph to Verity’s mother. “I wanted to make certain you had good light.”
The duchess gave him an approving nod and went out. Lord Randolph made a great production of getting Verity’s mother settled with the candles set just so and a cushion for her back and offers of tea or other refreshment. “So kind,” she murmured as she was settled in the front corner of the room.
Verity noticed that it was the corner farthest from the pianoforte. And that the special candles and cushions—which a less observant person might dismiss as finicky items for a man to consider—effectively rooted Mama at a distance. It was unlikely that she would overhear much of what they said, unless they started shouting. Which she might, if Lord Randolph tried to maneuver her in a similar way. And where had he acquired such skill at diverting chaperones?
“I’ve pulled out piles of music,” he said when they were at last free to begin. He led the way over to the table where the sheets were displayed. “I was thinking we should choose popular pieces rather than anything too complicated. Perhaps even repeat the song we did at Lady Tolland’s.”
Their eyes met, mirroring memories of that astonishing experience. Verity’s cheeks grew hot. A self-conscious silence stretched out. She could actually hear her mother’s needle prick the embroidery canvas.
Lord Randolph cleared his throat. “Ah, our audience at Carleton House will be varied,” he went on. “Not all will be particularly musical. But I’m eager to hear your opinion about the program, of course.”
He stopped and waited for her to speak. He gazed at her as if he actually wanted to know her views, and wasn’t just pausing to give the appearance of listening before telling her what to do. It was a point in his favor. “What about some Italian songs, varied with Scots or Irish ballads?” she suggested. “How long need we sing, do you think?”
“Long enough to satisfy the prince’s wounded vanity,” he responded wryly.
Verity looked down to hide a smile. “That sounds rather difficult to measure. An hour?”
“No more, certainly. We are doing a favor, not putting on a full concert. Shall we say six pieces? With one in reserve in case they insist on more?”
Verity agreed, and they looked through Mozart’s and Haydn’s arrangements of popular tunes and sheets of songs by Robert Burns and Thomas Moore. Langford House appeared to possess any piece one could desire, and Verity envied the bounty. She had to ration her purchases of sheet music on her allowance. The money her grandfather had left her was in trust until she married. And why was she thinking of that now? “‘Robin Adair’ would make a lovely base for a set of variations,” she said.
They bent over the music together. “It would indeed,” said Lord Randolph. He sat at the pianoforte and began to play the simple melody, and then to embellish it. Verity hummed along, following his elaborations. “Just here,” he said, playing intricate series of notes. She caught the idea at once. Spontaneously they sang a verse with the new adornments, their voices blending in a twining harmony. By the end they were staring at each other, mutually astonished.
“Very pretty,” said Verity’s mother from the corner.
It was as if he could predict exactly what she meant to sing, Verity thought. Or, perhaps, his musical impulses ran in precisely the same direction. The phrase in tune took on a whole new meaning as they ran through the entire song, consulted briefly, and then tried it again. The result was equally lovely and interesting, but different with the varying choices of the moment. This must be what it was like to be intoxicated, she thought, as she fell into the music and a give and take with this man she barely knew— somehow they vibrated to the same pitch.

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Kindle | Amazon Paperback

Amazon Series Link

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Enter to win a copy of Nothing Like a Duke by Jane Ashford!

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JANE ASHFORD, a beloved author of historical romances, has been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, and Spain, as well as the United States. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews. She lives in Los Angeles, California.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads

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Release Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway: THE BACHELOR CONTRACT by Rachel Van Dyken

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THE BACHELOR CONTRACT (The Bachelors of Arizona, Book 3) by Rachel Van Dyken

Publication Date: November 28, 2017

Synopsis

26BEEAF5-9816-42B2-8F5D-97E371A6F6B0A second-chance romance from the #1 New York Times bestseller of The Bet, Matchmaker and Elite series!

She’s everywhere.

Ex-wife.

Love of his life.

The last person in the world he wanted to see…ever.

And now that he’s working beside her every day, he can’t escape her. Her scent, glimpses of her smile, even the tension in the air that makes his body hum with the kind of need he’d only experienced with one person-all of it is driving him over the edge.

Brant Wellington was certain of three things:

Alcohol wasn’t going to solve this.

He really was losing his F-ing mind.

And his gorgeous ex-wife was going to be the death of him.

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Excerpt

It was Brant.
Always Brant.
Maybe that was because they’d never had any real closure. Just fighting, yelling, and then silence.
God, she’d hated the silence so much more than the yelling.
The silence crackled with tension—it was always filled with more meaning than when words were actually spoken.
It wasn’t the yelling that had killed their relationship.
It was the silence that had followed. When he had every opportunity to fix it—and didn’t.
Why was it so hard to move on? Probably because she hadn’t tried.
Instead, she’d worked. Tried to stay positive. And hoped.
Damn hope. Stupid hope.
“He’s not coming back for me,” she whispered, knowing that if she finally admitted he wasn’t coming, she would have to take her part of the blame in why. Because it wasn’t just on him to come running back. A small part of her knew that it was her job to meet him halfway. Instead, she’d ignored the need in his eyes, the desperate plea in his voice, and allowed grief to swallow her whole. Because at the time she’d needed someone to blame, and it was easier blaming him than herself.

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Buy Links

Kindle | Amazon Paperback

 

THE BACHELORS OF ARIZONA SERIES
The Bachelor Auction, #1
The Playboy Bachelor, #2
The Bachelor Contract, #3

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Giveaway

Enter to win 1 of 10 free copies of The Bachelor Contract!

Enter Giveaway

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About the Author

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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of New Adult, Regency, and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her husband, son, and their snoring boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!

Website: http://bit.ly/2djDuzm
Facebook: http://bit.ly/2djEDXD
Twitter: http://bit.ly/2d1YlW5
Instagram: http://bit.ly/2cGTf5k
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2dge8mZ

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Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway: TO MARRY A TEXAS OUTLAW by Linda Broday

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TO MARRY A TEXAS OUTLAW (Men of Legend, Book 3) by Linda Broday

Publication Date: November 7, 2017

Genre: Historical Western Romance

Synopsis

5048D2B0-F399-455B-A45F-0B941561ADFEThree Brothers. One Oath.

No Compromises.

The MEN of LEGEND

The Outlaw

Outlaw Luke Weston survives by his wits. On the run for a murder he didn’t commit, the last thing he needs is to go looking for more trouble. But when Luke stumbles across a fiercely beautiful woman struggling against two heavily armed men, it’s obvious that trouble has found him.

After all, he never could resist a damsel in distress.

Josie Morgan’s distressed, all right—and hopping mad. She has no idea why she’s been kidnapped…or who she is…or why her body melts for the mysterious gunslinger who saved her life. But as the lost memories come tumbling back together, Josie is faced with the stark reality of why she and Luke can never be…even as her heart is telling her she will always be his.

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Excerpt

Lawmen surrounded the wagon and forced them to stop.

“Morning, gentlemen,” Luke drawled. “Mind getting out of our way?”

“We’re looking for a woman.” The old sheriff had a crooked nose that must’ve been broken countless times.

“The only one I’ve seen is—”

“Me. His wife,” Rose interrupted and gazed with what she hoped was adoration up at Luke. “Don’t be shy saying it, sweetheart. But it’s still sort of new, I reckon.” She cupped his jaw and turned to the riders. “You see, we were married two weeks ago and we’re on our honeymoon. My darling sugarplum promised to take me to Fort Worth.”

She pressed her lips to his in a long, searing kiss. He didn’t respond for a moment, then shock and thrilling tingles rippled over her as he kissed her back. When she parted her mouth, he slipped his tongue inside as bold as you please. His hand curled just under her breast and sent waves of aching hunger through her.

“Ahem,” one of lawmen said. “We need a word if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, dear sir, but we do mind,” she murmured against Luke’s mouth. “Very strenuously.”

“Damn, woman,” Luke whispered. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”

“Me?” she argued low. “What was the tongue for?”

“Added effect.” His eyes held a devilish gleam.

“Sorry, ma’am,” another of the posse tried. “Give us a quick word and we’ll be on our way.”

Luke raised his head. “My wife Rose is very…passionate. Why are you looking for this other woman?”

“She murdered her husband last night, mister.”

Rose gasped. “My heavens, how horrible. Did she shoot him?”

“Oh no, ma’am, nothing that tame,” said the lawman with the mole. “She gutted him.”

“Where did this take place?” Luke asked, nuzzling Rose’s neck.

“Doan’s Crossing.”

Rose stiffened in panic.

“Careful,” Luke whispered. “Just a little longer.”

“Do you know her name by chance?” Rose asked quietly.

“Josie. Josie Morgan,” the man answered. “From the description, she’s the spitting image of you, ma’am.”

She shivered even as Luke’s arm tightened around her. Could she have done something like that? Was she a murderess?

“If we happen to spot her, we’ll report it to the first lawman,” Luke promised. “Now, if you don’t mind, we have somewhere to be and my wife, bless her sweet soul, is a very impatient woman.” He winked at the posse. “You fellows remember what it was like to be newly married, don’t you?”

A murmur of agreement came from the group.

Rose glanced down and her heart pounded to see the duster had slipped, exposing a big portion of her bloody skirt. Slowly, so as not to draw the lawmen’s gaze, she tried to tug the shield back into place.

“Say, don’t I know you, mister?” One of the lawmen in the back, a younger man, moved forward, staring at Luke. “What’s your name?”

Rose held her breath as Luke’s hand inched slowly down toward his Colt. Desperate to draw the riders’ attention, she loosened the top buttons of her dress and moved the fabric aside. “My goodness, I’m so hot!” She touched her cheek with a fingertip and drew it painstakingly down the long column of her throat, past her collarbone and into her cleavage. The young lawman swallowed hard.

“Name’s Jones. I’m from Tascosa,” Luke drawled. “The town’s wild and woolly but it’s where I met my beautiful Rose and tied the knot.”

“I never thought I’d ever find such a handsome man to give me a second look.” Rose batted her eyelashes. “Ours is a match made in heaven.”

“I must be mistaken.” The young man turned aside, mumbling to himself.

The hawk-nosed marshal leaned over. “There’s a lot of blood on your dress, ma’am. What happened?”

Panic raced through Rose. “Blood? Oh, good heavens no!” She forced a giggle. “This is nothing but red mud. My mama always complained about the North Texas red dirt and was never able to get it to wash out of anything.”

The marshal’s white brow lifted in apparent skepticism.

Luke quietly added, “My wife likes to make love in the…uh, creek. It’s really embarrassing to talk about.”

She patted his vest. “Sweetheart, these men don’t have time to be gossiping like that! They simply have to find that Morgan woman before she kills again.”

The men shook their heads, chuckling, but one leaned forward for a better view.

“Sorry to have held you up.” The old sheriff touched the brim of his hat and the group galloped off, kicking up a cloud of dust around the wagon.

Luke jiggled the reins and the team began to move. “What the hell was that back there?”

Her spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Attacking me like that.”

“Wait one minute. If I recall, you didn’t appear to object.”

“You enjoyed every second of that,” Luke accused.

“And you didn’t?”

Luke glanced back to check on the lawmen. “Where did that performance come from?”

“I noticed a spark of recognition in that young one’s eyes and I knew I had to save you. He was a step away from arresting you.” She thought he’d at least be grateful for her efforts.

“Don’t ever try to save me again.” Luke’s voice held a sharp edge. “I’ll only get you hurt—or dig you a grave.”

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Buy Links

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Amazon Series Link

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Giveaway

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About the Author

Linda Broday_newAt a young age, LINDA BRODAY discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. Cowboys fascinate her. There’s something about Stetsons, boots, and tall rugged cowboys that get her fired up. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award and the Texas Gold Award. She resides in the Texas Panhandle and is inspired every day.

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