Cowboy Firefighter Christmas Kiss

By Kim Redford

Publication Date 10/29/2019

 

Synopsis

 

The firefighting cowboys of Wildcat Bluffs take Christmas VERY seriously…

When Ivy Bryant arrives in town to run the historic honkytonk, she finds herself immersed in traditions that can’t be bucked. Luckily, cowboy firefighter Slade Steele has an idea to increase both the honkytonk’s income, and his own. It’s an offer Ivy couldn’t refuse, even if the passion between them wasn’t already reaching the boiling point.

Ivy and Slade’s love story is legendary—when you add in arsonist cattle rustlers, a runaway Angus bull, and a chili recipe that includes liquor AND chocolate, Wildcat Bluffs will be celebrating a cowboy Christmas unlike any other.

 

 

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Smokin’ Hot Cowboys

A Cowboy Firefighter for Christmas (Book 1)

Blazing Hot Cowboy (Book 2)

A Very Cowboy Christmas (Book 3)

Hot for a Cowboy (Book 4)

Cowboy Firefighter Christmas Kiss (Book 5)

 

Excerpt

As Ivy Bryant stood on her tiptoes with arms raised to toss decorative tinsel over deer antlers on the wall above her head, she heard the side door that led to the Wildcat Hall’s beer garden open and boots hit the floor with a determined stride.

“We’re closed!” she hollered, not bothering to look over her shoulder. “Come back next week.”

“You look like you could use a little help,” a man said.

She froze with her hands in the air as she felt the deep male voice with that melodic, slow cadence of a born-and-bred Texan strike her body and go deep, as if she’d been pierced by a flaming arrow. Talk about red-hot. She tried to shrug off the heat, but the chair shifted under her, making her sway.

“Easy does it,” he said. “Chairs have a way of pretending they’re bulls sometimes.”

“Bulls?” She didn’t know whether to laugh at the joke or appreciate he’d tried to make her feel better about almost toppling to the floor. Still and all, if she’d known she was going to have company, she’d have put on something besides formfitting yoga pants and top in hot pink with black trim. He was getting an eyeful.

“In my case, I always tried to pretend bulls were chairs.”

“How’d that work out?” She eyed the antlers, mind half on her next throw and half on the amusing man behind her.

“About like you can imagine.” He sighed, as if life had been unfair. “I finally had to give up bulls for chairs.”

“I bet the bulls were grateful.” She definitely wanted to see the face that went with the voice, but she wanted to finish her task more.

“Yeah…but I’ve broken a few chairs.”

“Maybe even one of the chairs here in the honkytonk.”

“Might be. Looks like your chair is keeping an uneasy peace with the floor

“That’s one way of putting it.” She rose to her tiptoes again, trying one last time to get the tinsel to disobey the laws of gravity.

“Let me help.” He spanned her waist with large hands and lifted her so she could easily reach the antlers.

She caught her breath in surprise at his strength—and his boldness. But she wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth. She quickly twined the antlers with red tinsel until they looked festive for the holidays.

“Pretty,” he said.

She shivered in response. What had gotten into her? She should be struggling to get away. Instead, he was revving her up with his hot hands.

“Got any more tinsel to put up?” he asked in a deep voice gone husky. “I could hold you all day and into next week.”

“I suggest you put me down before you get into trouble.”

“If you’re the one handing out trouble, I’d wait in line to get it.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle because he was laying it on thick in that teasing way Texas men would do to get them out of problems with women. “Better put me down before your arms give out.”

“Not a chance. You’re light as a feather.”

She laughed harder. “Guess some women would fall for that one. What are you selling?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you, but you might consider it selling to you, too.” He gently set her down so her feet were steady on the floor, and then he stepped back.

She turned to face him—and felt her breath catch in her throat at the tall hunk of a cowboy. He wore pressed Wranglers that accentuated his long legs and narrow hips, with a wide leather belt sporting a huge rodeo belt buckle. His blue-and-white-striped, pearl-snap shirt tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans emphasized the width of his shoulders and breadth of his chest. Blond haired. Blue eyed. Square jawed. Full lipped. He looked as if he’d been made to dazzle—and she was sud­denly and breathtakingly susceptible to every single one of his charms.

“Whatever you’re selling, I think I’m buying.” She spoke the words with a teasing lilt in her voice and a mischievous smile on her face. Still, she meant it. And he probably knew it because he was definitely heartbreaker material. How many women had already fallen to his charms and been left in the dust? She didn’t intend to be a notch on his belt, but if she’d known leaving the city for the country paid off so well in eye candy, she might’ve followed her sister sooner.

He chuckled at her words and held out his hand with a thick, muscular wrist that came from controlling thousand-pound-plus animals. “Slade Steele. If you haven’t heard of me, maybe you’re aware of the Chuckwagon Café and Steele Trap Ranch. Family businesses. I’m not just any guy off the street.”

“You’re definitely not just any guy.” She slipped her hand into his big one and felt him gently enclose her fingers. “Smart guy to throw a few compliments my way. Guess you’re more than a pretty face.” She tried to keep the teasing going, so their interaction stayed on a light note, but he was still holding her hand and she wasn’t pulling away and his eyes were heating up to a blazing blue fire.

“Nothing but the truth.”

“My sister Fern is the star.” She tried to tug her hand away, but he held on another long moment, nodding as if deciding something or conveying something or accepting something before finally letting go.

He grinned with a gleam in his eyes, revealing teeth white against the tan of his skin. “Yeah, she is that…but you make the earth move.”

“Oh my.” She returned his grin while fanning her face with one hand in that old Southern way, as if he was too hot to handle. “You really do want to sell me something, don’t you?”

“How am I doing?”

“Not bad.”

***

Excerpted from Cowboy Firefighter Christmas Kiss by Kim Redford. © 2019 by Kim Redford. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

 

About the Author

Kim is an acclaimed, bestselling author of Western romance novels. She grew up in Texas with cowboys, cowgirls, horses, cattle, and rodeos for inspiration. She divides her time between homes in Texas and Oklahoma, where she’s a rescue cat wrangler and horseback rider–when she takes a break from her keyboard.

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The Sisters Café

By Carolyn Brown

Publication Date 10/29/2019

 

Synopsis

 

Cathy Andrew’s biological clock has passed the ticking stage and is dangerously close to “blown plumb up.” Cathy wants it all: the husband, the baby, and a little house right there in Cadillac, Texas. She’s taken step one and gotten engaged to a reliable man, but she’s beginning to question their relationship. Does he really love her, or is she just arm candy for his political career? Why is her future mother-in-law getting increasingly hostile? Worse, why does he stand up for his mother when she says those awful things, instead of protecting her?

Cathy is full of self-doubt. Both of her options—going through with the wedding or breaking off her engagement—are beginning to look like a nightmare either way. She knows her friends will back her up, but she’s the one who has to make a decision that’s going to tear her apart.

(Previously published as The Blue-Ribbon Jalapeno Society Jubilee and What Happens in Texas.)

 

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Excerpt

If Prissy Parnell hadn’t married Buster Jones and left Cadillac, Texas, for Pasadena, California, Marty wouldn’t have gotten the speeding ticket. It was all Prissy’s damn fault that Marty was in such a hurry to get to the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society monthly meeting that night, so Prissy ought to have to shell out the almost two hundred dollars for that ticket.

They were already passing around the crystal bowl to take up the voting ballots when Marty slung open the door to Violet Prescott’s sunroom and yelled, “Don’t count ’em without my vote.”

Twenty faces turned to look at her and not a one of them, not even her twin sister, Cathy, was smiling. Hell’s bells, who had done pissed on their cucumber sandwiches before she got there, anyway? A person didn’t drop dead from lack of punctuality, did they?

One wall of the sunroom was glass and looked out over lush green lawns and flower gardens. The other three were covered with shadow boxes housing the blue ribbons that the members had won at the Texas State Fair for their jalapeño pepper entries. More than forty shadow boxes all reminding the members of their history and their responsibility for the upcoming year. Bless Cathy’s heart for doing her part. She had a little garden of jalapeños on the east side of the lawn and nurtured them like children. The newest shadow box held ribbons that she’d earned for the club with her pepper jelly and picante. It was the soil, or maybe she told them bedtime stories, but she, like her mamma and grandma, grew the hottest jalapeños in the state.

“It appears that Martha has decided to grace us with her pres-ence once again when it is time to vote for someone to take our dear Prissy’s place in the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society. We really should amend our charter to state that a member has to attend more than one meeting every two years. You could appreciate the fact that we did amend it once to include you in the membership with your sister, who, by the way, has a spotless attendance record,” Violet said.

Violet, the queen of the club, as most of the members called it, was up near eighty years old, built like SpongeBob SquarePants, and had stovepipe jet- black hair right out of the bottle. Few people had the balls or the nerve to cross her, and those who did were put on her shit list right under Martha, aka Marty, Andrews’ name, which was always on the top.

Back in the beginning of the club days, before Marty was even born, the mayor’s wife held the top position on the shit list. When they’d formed the Blue- Ribbon Jalapeño Society, Loretta Massey and Violet almost went to war over the name of the new club. Loretta insisted that it be called a society, and Violet wanted it to be called a club. Belonging to a club just sounded so much fancier than saying that one belonged to a society. Loretta won when the vote came in, but Violet called it a club anyway and that’s what stuck. Rumor had it that Violet was instrumental in getting the mayor ousted just so they’d have to leave Grayson County and Loretta would have to quit the club.

***

Excerpted from The Sisters Café by Carolyn Brown. © 2019 by Carolyn Brown. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

The Shop on Main Street

By Carolyn Brown

Publication Date 9/3/2019

 

Synopsis

Steel Magnolias meets The Ya Ya Sisterhood from New York Times bestseller Carolyn Brown

Carlene Lovelle, owner of Bless My Bloomers lingerie shop, has everything she’s ever wanted: a loving husband, a successful small town business, and great friends who never disappoint.

However, that all changes when Carlene finds a pair of sexy red panties in her husband’s briefcase.She knows exactly who those panties belong to—they were purchased from her very own shop.

Carlene is shocked. Her marriage is over, her life in a tailspin. She’s humiliated, upset and heartbroken, but it’s time to move on to the anger stage of grieving.

Carlene finds that she has all she needs as the ladies of this small town rally around and teach her that revenge is a dish best served red-hot.

(Previously published as The Red-Hot Chili Cook-Off and A Heap of Texas Trouble.)

 

 

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Excerpt

Some men are just born stupid. Some don’t get infected until later in life, but they’ll all get a case of it sometime. It’s in their DNA and can’t be helped.

Carlene could testify with her right hand raised to God and the left on the Good Book that her husband, Lenny, had been born with the disease and it had worsened with the years. Proof was held between her thumb and forefinger like a dead rat in the form of a pair of bikini underwear. They damn sure didn’t belong to her. Hell’s bells, she couldn’t get one leg in those tiny little things. And they did not belong to Lenny, either. Even if he had become an overnight cross- dresser, his ass wouldn’t fit into that skimpy pair of under- britches, not even if he greased himself down with bacon drippings.

They were bright red with a sparkling sequin heart sewn on the triangular front. They’d come with a matching corset with garter straps and fishnet hose. Carlene recognized them, because she’d designed the outfit herself at her lingerie shop, Bless My Bloomers. They belonged to a petite, size- four brunette with big brown eyes who had giggled and pranced when she saw herself in the mirror wearing the getup.

Carlene jumped when her cell phone rang. The ring tone said it was Lenny, but she was still speechless, staring at the scrap of satin in her hand.

She dropped to her knees on the carpet and bent forward into a tight ball, her blond hair falling over her face. She felt as if someone had kicked her firmly in the gut and she couldn’t breathe. In a few seconds she managed a sitting position, wrapped her arms around her midsection, and sucked in air, but it burned her lungs. The noise that came forth from her chest sounded like a wounded animal caught in a trap. Tears would have washed some of the pain away but they wouldn’t flow from her burning green eyes. Finally, she got control of the dry heaves and managed to pull herself up out of the heap of despair. Dear God, what was she going to do?

The brunette who’d bought the red- satin outfit had told her that she and her sugar daddy were going to Vegas, and she wanted something that would make him so hot he’d be ready to buy her an engagement ring. What was her name? Bailey? Brenda? No, something French, because Carlene remembered asking her about it. Bridget…that was it! Bridget had been to Vegas with Lenny. On how many other trips had he taken a bimbo with him and how many of them had been ten or fifteen years younger— and a size four, for God’s sake?

In seconds, the phone rang again. She picked it up and said, “Hello.” Her voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well or, maybe, a sewer pipe.

“Carlene, I left my briefcase in my office. I slept on the sofa to keep from waking you, since I got in so late last night. Bring it to me before you go to work, and hurry. There’s a contract in it that I need and the people will be here to sign in ten minutes. I’ll hold them off with coffee until you get here.”

No good- bye.

No thank you, darlin’.

Not even a please.

Did he talk to Bridget like that?

Anger joined shock and pain as she dropped the panties back in the briefcase and then removed the little card she’d made for him to find that morning. She’d written that she was sorry she had fallen asleep before he got home and that she’d make it up to him that night with champagne and wild sex. She stood up, straightening to her full statuesque height of just a couple of inches under the six- foot mark. Damn that sorry bastard to hell. How could he do this to her?

***

Excerpted from The Shop on Main Street by Carolyn Brown. © 2019 by Carolyn Brown. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

 

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author and RITA Finalist, Carolyn Brown, has published more than seventy books.  These days she is concentrating on her two loves:  women’s fiction and contemporary cowboy romance. She and her husband, a retired English teacher, make their home in southern Oklahoma.

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Giveaway

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Longing for a Cowboy Christmas

with stories by

Rosanne Bittner, Linda Broday, Margaret Brownley,

Amy Sandas, Leigh Greenwood, and Anna Schmidt

Genre: Romance Anthology / Western / Historical
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Date of Publication: September 24, 2019
Number of Pages: 528

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Find your very own cowboy to keep warm these long, wintry nights as you cozy up with six sweeping, epic tales of heroism, passion, family and celebration from bestselling authors Leigh Greenwood, Rosanne Bittner, Linda Broday, Margaret Brownley, Anna Schmidt, and Amy Sandas.

Fall in Love with Christmas

Whether it’s a widower finding an unexpected new start, a former outlaw and his new wife welcoming their very own Christmas miracle, a long-lost lover returning just in time for a special holiday celebration, a second chance at love between two warring hearts given peace at last, an unlikely pair working together to bring joy to a small Texas town, or a cowboy and his dark-eyed beauty snowed in one unforgettable wintry eve…every Christmas with a cowboy is filled with light, laughter, and a forever kind of love.

 

 

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Praise for Longing for a Cowboy Christmas

“Greenwood is a master at westerns.” ―RT Book Reviews for Leigh Greenwood

“An emotional powerhouse! This classic historical western is destined for the “keeper” shelf.” ―RT Book Reviews, Top Pick for Rosanne Bittner

“Fun and sensual…great for fans of history, romance, and some good old Texas grit.” ―Kirkus for Linda Broday

“A great story by a wonderful author.”―#1 New York Times bestselling author DEBBIE MACOMBER for Margaret Brownley

“The perfect read.” ―RT Book Reviews for Anna Schmidt

“A genuine page-turner…electric and absorbing.” ―Kirkus for Amy Sandas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Margaret Brownley

AUTHOR OF A LOVE LETTER TO SANTA

Included in Longing for a Cowboy Christmas Anthology

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author MARGARET BROWNLEY has penned more than forty-five novels and novellas. She’s a two-time Romance Writers of American RITA^® finalist and has written for a TV soap. She is also a recipient of the Romantic Times Pioneer Award.

Her story, A Pony Express Christmas, appeared in the Old West Christmas Brides collection, and book three of her Haywire Brides series will be published May 2020.  Not bad for someone who flunked eighth-grade English.  Just don’t ask her to diagram a sentence.

 

About A Love Letter to Santa

 

She’s turned his life upside-down.  Could she really be the right woman for him?

Holly Sanders plans to make this the best Christmas for a town hard hit by the drought.   Okay, maybe she’s overdone the bows, baubles and garlands.  But is that a reason for the new blacksmith Tom Chandler to declare war on tinsel?

Tom doesn’t mean to play scrooge. But when his dog’s objections to the endless caroling gets them tossed out of his boarding house, he decides enough is enough.

The escalating battle takes an unexpected turn when he spots Holly struggling against the wind with an armload of presents and rushes to help her. Before he knows what happened, the green-eyed beauty recruits him to play Santa’s helper. After helping make one small boy’s Christmas wish come true, he’s utterly hooked, and suddenly has a wish of his own!   But convincing Holly he’s the right man for her would require a miracle—and maybe even a little help from Santa.

 

 

Excerpt From A Love Letter To Santa

 

Holly picked up a piece of chalk. “All right, boys and girls. Today, we’re going to write letters to the North Pole, and I want you to use your best handwriting.” She turned her back to the class and began writing on the blackboard. “This is the correct way to begin a letter.”

She wrote Dear Santa on the board. The name Santa had grown in popularity in recent years and had replaced St. Nick. As she wrote the last sample on the board, she heard whispers behind her.

She dropped the chalk in the ledge and turned to face her class. “Is there something you wish to share, Bobby?”

Bobby Baker sat back in his seat, arms folded, his expression too hard and cynical for an eight-year-old. “Santa ain’t gonna bring us any toys. He didn’t bring us anything last year, and he ain’t gonna bring anything this year.”

Since hurt feelings were more important than grammar, Holly ignored the urge to correct his speech. There would be time enough later for that. Instead, she folded her hands together and surveyed her class. Fifteen pairs of eyes turned to her. Little Alice Harper looked close to tears, and she wasn’t the only one.

Holly sighed. She’d hoped the English assignment would bring smiles, not tears. But then she could hardly blame Bobby for feeling the way he did.

“Last year was a bad year for everyone.” She spoke in a calm voice that she hoped would both soothe and encourage. “Even Santa had a bad year. But this year will be different. Santa has a lot more helpers, and he promises to do his best to pay a visit to each and every one of you on Christmas Eve.”

Her assurances brought a look of relief to some, but not Bobby. The poor boy had had too many disappointments in life to believe that things would be different. Bobby was the oldest of four. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father had his hands full keeping his business running and taking care of the children, the youngest being two.

“Any questions?” she asked.

Sandra Miller raised her hand and Holly called on her. “Can Santa bring me a baby brother or sister?”

Before Holly could answer, the minister’s grandson, Jimmy Johnson piped up. “No, silly. That’s God’s department.” Jimmy considered himself an authority on the subject.

Since Sandra seemed content, Holly let Jimmy’s answer stand and called on Willie Tustin. “You have a question, Willie?”

“Can I ask for two things?”

“Only if you’ve been very good,” Holly said. Since no one else raised a hand, she looked at her pendant watch. “You have twenty minutes to write your letters.”

As her students began writing, she wandered from desk to desk, looking over each child’s shoulder.

Some children asked after Santa’s health. Others made sure to describe themselves in such saintly terms, Holly couldn’t help but smile.

Jerry Maine wrote that he wanted a folding knife. This made Holly wonder whether the new blacksmith would be willing to donate one. Probably not, the old Scrooge.

Actually, the man wasn’t that old. Probably not a day over thirty. Too bad he had such an aversion to Christmas.

Shaking the thought away, she stopped at Bobby’s desk. His paper was still blank.

 

Order the first two Haywire Brides books now

And watch for book three in May 2020!

PS these are GREAT books!  I’ve read the first two and can’t wait for the 3rd one

 

 

 

 

Rosanne Bittner:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Goodreads * Blog * Amazon

Linda Broday:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Goodreads * Pinterest * BookBub * Amazon 

Margaret Brownley:

Website * Facebook  * Twitter * Goodreads * Amazon

Leigh Greenwood:

Website * Goodreads

Amy Sandas:

Website * Facebook * Twitter * Goodreads * Instagram * Amazon

Anna Schmidt:

Website * Pinterest * Goodreads * Twitter

 

 

————————————-

GIVEAWAY!  GIVEAWAY!  GIVEAWAY!

Grand Prize: Copies of: Longing for a Cowboy Christmas, The Cowboy’s Honor,

Logan’s Lady, Cowboy Charm School + $25 Amazon Gift Card

2nd Prize: Copies of:  LFACC, The Cowboy’s Honor, Logan’s Lady + $25 Amazon Gift Card

3rd Prize: Copies of: LFACC, Logan’s Lady

October 15-October 25, 2019

(U.S. Only)

 

 

 

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Visit the other blogs on this tour

 

10/15/19	Book Trailer	Carpe Diem Chronicles
10/15/19	BONUS STOP	Hall Ways Blog
10/16/19	Review	Book Fidelity
10/17/19	Author Spotlight	That’s What She’s Reading
10/18/19	Review	Chapter Break Book Blog
10/19/19	Author Spotlight	All the Ups and Downs
10/20/19	Author Spotlight	StoreyBook Reviews
10/21/19	Review	Reading by Moonlight
10/22/19	Author Spotlight	The Page Unbound
10/23/19	Review	Missus Gonzo
10/24/19	Review	Forgotten Winds

 

 

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Title: Enamored

Author: J.S. Scott

Release Date: October 15, 2019

Publisher: Montlake

 

Synopsis

Like his brothers and sisters, Seth Sinclair went from blue-collar to billionaire overnight, and he’s decided to invest in what he knows best: construction. There’s only one thing in his way—the endangered birds nesting on a piece of prime beachfront real estate. And fighting for the birds is Riley Montgomery, a stubborn, pain-in-the-ass, drop-dead-gorgeous environmental lawyer. The worst part? Seth will do anything to keep her around—even if it means hiring her to be his fake girlfriend.

With a cause to fight for, Riley agrees to Seth’s scheme. If she keeps the superficial women away from Seth, then he’ll leave the wildlife sanctuary alone. But pretending to be his girlfriend comes with ground rules: No ass grabbing. And absolutely no sex. Ever. The problem? The sexual tension sizzles when they’re together.

Seth isn’t so keen on Riley’s rules, but he’ll keep his word, at least until she decides otherwise. But bringing Riley into his circle has brought her past back to haunt her in ways that neither of them expected. Now it’s less about broken rules and more about broken hearts, and Seth will do whatever it takes to protect the woman he loves.

 

 

Excerpt: Enamored by J.S. Scott

“You said you’d trade for my services,” I prompted. “But I don’t have much to offer to a man like you.”

He studied me for a moment, which made me uncomfortable.

I didn’t want anyone to know me better.

A man like Seth would never understand me.

“You have a hell of a lot to offer any guy,” he considered.

“Not exactly true,” I disagreed. “I was engaged once, but I was never enough for Nolan Easton,” I muttered, instantly wishing the name hadn’t left my mouth.

For some odd reason, Seth was easy to talk to, but I needed to guard my words better.

He whistled softly. “Nolan Easton? Head of Easton Investment Firms? The very wealthy Nolan Easton?”

“Yes,” I said tightly.

“Even so, I can’t believe he dumped you,” Seth answered.

“He didn’t,” I admitted. “I finally broke it off. He didn’t know how to keep it in his pants, and I didn’t want to spend my entire life being who he wanted me to be.” I coughed nervously. “Now can we get back to the business at hand?”

“Not yet,” he insisted. “I’m still trying to get why any guy would want to change a single thing about you. Not that I exactly love your line of work right now, but you’re passionate about it. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You seem to know exactly what you want. Considering our circumstances, I can’t say I’ve seen your sense of humor, but I’m assuming you have one of those, too. What the hell else did he want?”

I ignored his question. “I have three older brothers,” I shared. “I have to have a sense of humor or they’d drive me crazy.”

He rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “You didn’t answer my question, Riley. What else did he want?” His voice was low and persuasive.

“It’s not important. My engagement has been over for a while, and I’m happy. I finally found my own home here in Citrus Beach, and I’m pretty content with being alone. It’s a lot nicer here than San Diego. Quieter.”

It was a hell of a lot better than being with a man who made me feel like I was less than nothing.

“When exactly did you move here? And where are you living now?”

“Almost two years ago,” I ground out, growing impatient to get back to business. It wasn’t wise to dump a lot about my personal life to a defendant—no matter how good a listener he might be. “I had a condo, but I recently purchased your sister’s cottage. I’ve settled there now. She and Eli have the bigger home next door, so I already knew I’d have good neighbors.”

“I’m right down the beach from there,” Seth said, sounding surprised. “I’ve never seen you.”

“Like I said. It’s recent. I just moved in.”

I was squirming in my chair. I didn’t care for the feeling of being interrogated. I was usually the one asking the questions.

He shot me a playful grin that made my heart trip. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he said jokingly.

“Thanks,” I said uncomfortably. “Now tell me what you want from me to leave that piece of property alone.”

He took his time answering, and the silence seemed to stretch out forever.

I gulped down the last of my tea while I waited for him to answer.

Was he playing with me?

Or did he actually have some kind of proposition?

Probably the former—since I really didn’t have much to offer him in the way of services. I could guarantee that Eli Stone had set Seth up with his gaggle of business attorneys. Why in the hell would he need an environmental attorney?

“If you’re playing with me, this encounter ends right now,” I said tersely.

“I’m not,” he said emphatically. “I’m just wondering how to explain what I want.”

“If it’s acceptable, I’ll write up the contract today,” I offered.

“It’s not exactly the contract I’m thinking about,” he said thoughtfully.

God, I was jittery, and I wasn’t used to feeling that way. I was pretty certain that it wasn’t the extra-large chai I’d just consumed, either.

It was him.

Maybe it was the way he studied me.

Or the way his steely gray eyes never left my face.

I couldn’t read him, and that completely pissed me off. As an attorney, I’d gotten very good at judging exactly where a defendant’s mind might be, and what their motives were.

“Just name your terms,” I said irritably. “I’ll work out the details.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes in what I thought would be a battle of wills, and then was sorry that I had even glanced his direction.

My breath hitched as I fell into a stormy gaze that wouldn’t let me go.

I was stunned at the possessive way he eyed me.

I was confused about the emotions I saw there.

And I was mesmerized by the carnal desire that flared up in his steely irises like a bolt of lightning as he held me still with a single look, unable to rip myself away from his fixed stare that was holding me in place.

I knew I was blushing like a damn teenage girl with her first major crush. My brain was begging my body not to react, but my stupid body wasn’t listening.

His voice was hoarse and beguiling when he finally said, “I need a woman, Riley. And that woman has to be you.”

About the Author

J.S. “Jan” Scott is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of numerous contemporary and paranormal romances, including the Sinclairs and the Accidental Billionaires series. She’s an avid reader of all types of books and literature, but romance has always been her genre of choice—so she writes what she loves to read: stories that are almost always steamy, generally feature an alpha male, and have a happily ever after, because she just can’t seem to write them any other way! Jan loves to connect with readers. Visit her website at www.authorjsscott.com.

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Title: A Lie for a Lie

Author: Helena Hunting

Release Date: October 15, 2019

Publisher: Montlake

Synopsis

Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

Lainey is the perfect escape from my life. My plan for seclusion becomes a month long sex fest punctuated with domestic bliss. But it ends just as abruptly as it began. When I’m called away on a family emergency, I realize too late that I have no way to contact Lainey.

A year later, a chance encounter throws Lainey and me together again. But I still have a lie hanging over my head, and Lainey’s keeping secrets of her own. With more than lust at stake, the truth may be our game changer.

 

Guest Post: Lainey vs. Puck Bunnies in A Lie for a Lie

A Lie for a Lie is a heartwarming, sexy, emotional romantic comedy. It’s a second chance romance, filled with secrets and there are definitely some exciting, fun twists. It’s also a story of empowerment, self-discovery, and independence.

Rook Bowman, aka RJ or Rookie as he has been known as previously, has recently taken on the role as captain of Chicago’s NHL team, and with that role comes big responsibility and more fame than he sometimes knows how to handle. As with any professional sport, the NHL lifestyle can often be full of excess and decadence; money, fame and an endless stream of women who will do just about anything to get into bed with them, and it’s not always easy to avoid that kind of temptation.

When we meet Rook in A Lie for a Lie we learn that he has a less than shiny past when it comes to the excess and the puck bunnies (hockey groupies). NHL players are often drafted quite young—just watch a game and you’ll notice that the rookies can often barely grown peach fuzz, let alone a full beard. They’re still teenagers when they start their careers, and Rook was no different. Having grown up on an alpaca farm in rural New York, his focus was mainly hockey and the family farm, but once he hit the pros he found himself surrounded by women who literally threw themselves at him. And being young, attractive and full of testosterone, he fell headfirst down that rabbit hole. At least until the drama found him in the form of a fake pregnancy and a social media firestorm. Because of that, and the impact it had on his relationship with his family, Rook swears off the bunnies and refocuses on his career, rather than extracurricular activities.

He meets Lainey on the way to Alaska, where he’s gone every summer since he was a teenager with his dad and his brother. He lost his father a few years earlier, but kept the tradition with his brother because he craves the escape from the demands of his life as an NHL superstar. Lainey encapsulates everything he misses about being a “normal guy.” She doesn’t recognize him or seem to even know anything about hockey, and that makes her even more alluring. For once, he can just be himself. He doesn’t have to worry about ulterior motives or being used. Lainey is refreshingly innocent, incredibly smart, genuine and overwhelmingly sweet and Rook finds himself enamored with her sense of adventure. As they get to know each other, Rook learns about her traumatic past and realizes that despite the challenges she’s faced, Lainey possesses a quiet strength and resilience. Add some insane chemistry and you’ve got a recipe for love. Unfortunately for Rook, he built their entire fragile relationship on lie he can’t take back.

***

A Lie For A Lie Excerpt

When Lainey excuses herself to the bathroom, I rush upstairs and throw on a T-shirt. I know she said whatever makes me comfortable, but sitting around shirtless is such a douche move.

I make it back to the kitchen and pour her a fresh drink before she returns from the bathroom.

“How can I help with dinner?” Lainey drapes her sweater over the back of a chair.

And my mouth goes dry. Like I ate an entire sleeve of saltines and chased it with a tablespoon of salt. So far I’ve only seen Lainey in a giant parka or an oversize sweater. Under all that bulky fabric is one hell of a body. She’s wearing a simple white waffle shirt that conforms to her curves. A pair of dark-wash skinny jeans encase her toned legs.

I’m used to bunnies throwing themselves at me, often in questionable states of undress. I stopped getting excited about miniskirts and revealing tops a long time ago. There’s something infinitely sexier about a woman who can show off her body without actually showing it off at all.

Lainey tips her head to the side. Her teeth press into her full bottom lip. I want to do that. Suck that pouty, full lip between my teeth and bite it. I want to do a lot of other, far more explicit things than that, but a kiss seems like a good place to start.

“RJ? Is everything okay?” Her eyes dip down to my chest. I’m wearing a shirt from one of my endorsement campaigns. It afforded me the extensive renovations on this cabin a few years ago.

“Huh?” I give my head a shake. “Oh. Yeah. Everything’s good. Sorry, zoned out there for a second.”

She smiles and pushes up on her toes, her eyes twinkling—like, they legit light up, and her excitement makes her entire body vibrate. It also makes her boobs jiggle. I try to keep my eyes glued to her face. It’s not easy, though.

“I do that all the time! Sometimes my brain is busy with so many thoughts I miss entire conversations. Does that happen to you too?”

I grin. I love that she seems to say whatever is on her mind. “All the time.”

“It’s actually a helpful skill when you’re being lectured, because I can sort through stuff in my head, but it’s not so great when your supervising professor is telling you what’s wrong with your thesis.” She pulls her hair over her shoulder and finger combs it.

“I take it that’s happened to you.”

“It did. Thankfully he also emailed all his criticisms, so missing out on it the first time wasn’t that big of a deal.” She divides her hair into three sections and deftly braids it without looking at what she’s doing even once. It’s pretty damn impressive. I almost want to pull it apart so I can watch her do it all over again. “Anyway, enough about that. Let’s get started on dinner!” She nudges me out of the way so she can wash her hands. She dries them on her jeans and moves over to the fridge, opening it to check out the contents.

I kind of like that she makes herself at home. I’m used to women who expect to be catered to. It’s refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t want me to pander to her.

I start pulling things out of the fridge as she starts naming items she’ll need and set them on the counter. I manage to locate most of what she asks for.

“What about garlic? Do you have any of that?” She leans over, peering into the fridge beside me. Her braid slips over her shoulder, skimming my arm.

“Uh, maybe we could forgo the garlic?”

“Are you allergic? My oldest brother gets bloated when he eats it. It took us forever to figure out what was causing it. Sometimes I’ll still put some in when he’s coming for dinner, because it’s funny to see him look like he’s expecting.” She tips her head to the side. “Or you just don’t like garlic?”

“I like it sometimes, but it depends.”

Her brows pinch together. “On what?”

“Who I’m eating with. I mean, if I’m going out with buddies, you bet I’m gonna order the honey garlic wings, or the cheesy garlic bread, or the pasta Alfredo. But if I’m eating dinner with a pretty girl, I’m gonna pass on the garlic.”

“Oh.” She twists the end of her braid around her finger.

I hope I’m not reading things wrong and making her uncomfortable.

“Does that mean you think I’m pretty?”

That she sounds genuinely curious as to my answer is unexpected. “You see yourself in the mirror every day—what do you think?”

She averts her gaze, still playing with the end of her braid. “My eyes are too big, so I always look like I’m surprised. My nose is small, and my lips are too full, so my mouth doesn’t really fit the rest of my face.”

“Wow. I think you need a new mirror, because all I see is a whole lot of gorgeous.”

She snorts a laugh and waves me off. “Once, I took a portrait class, and we learned all about proportion and symmetry of the face. Those are just my flaws based on what I was taught.”

“Well, I’m a big fan of all your flaws, and I think they make you more beautiful, not less.”

“Thanks. I think you’re beautiful too.” She cringes. “I mean handsome. You’re very nice to look at, with or without a shirt on. When I fell in your lap on the airplane, I remember thinking, At least I fell on someone nice looking.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” She opens a drawer, maybe to avoid looking at me. “And as much as I was mortified when you sat beside me on the Cessna, I couldn’t complain about the view, inside or outside of the plane. That you turned out to be really nice, and just so helpful, was a great bonus.” She hands me a roll of foil. “Why don’t you wrap the potatoes? They take the longest, so we should get started on those first.”

I put the potatoes on the barbecue and let Lainey order me around. She definitely knows her way around a kitchen. When I was growing up, my mom did most of the cooking, but my dad could make a mean Saturday-morning brunch. He also made great bread, which I miss a lot.

An hour later we’re seated at the table, plates full of steak, twice-baked potatoes, and crispy brussels sprouts cooked in bacon fat. I open a bottle of red wine and offer Lainey a glass.

“Just a little bit? I’m not sure I like red wine.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right red wine.” I pour a little into her glass.

She picks it up and gives it a swirl, then sniffs it. “I’ve seen people do this in the movies, but I don’t really know what the point is,” she admits, then tips the glass back and takes a tentative sip. Her expression turns thoughtful; then she takes another, slightly more robust sip. “This is actually really nice. I like it. Maybe the red wine I had before was bad.”

“Maybe. Some of the cheap stuff tastes pretty awful.” I pour more into her glass before filling mine. I hold up my glass and wait for her to raise hers.

“To chance meetings.”

“To new adventures and great company to share them with.” We toast and take a sip, each smiling behind the rim.

 

 

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. Helena writes everything from contemporary romance with all the feels to romantic comedies that will have you laughing until you cry.

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Reason for Concern: Mrs. B Mystery by Anita Kulina

Publisher:  Brandt Street Press (August, 2019)

Category: Cozy Mystery, Women Sleuths

Available in Print and ebook, 240 pages

 

 

Synopsis

Mrs. B is back on the case with a new mystery to solve!

People don’t vanish into thin air.  Yet no one has seen Alice since St. Mary’s Senior Center had their Supper Club outing on Sunday.  As Mrs. B learns more about her friend, the disappearance seems to involve a burglary, an emerald necklace and maybe even a motorcycle gang.

Where in heaven’s name is Alice?

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Excerpt

Downtown Hopewell appeared to consist of three establishments. The first looked like an old-fashioned corner store. White plastic tables and chairs sat outside, apparently to allow patrons to drink the “Ice Tea” offered prominently in their signage. A large, stately oak tree shaded the building. On a telephone pole near the doorway, a poster advertised the county fair. Up above the poster sat a metal Greyhound Bus sign. The other two buildings were a doctor’s office and a bait shop.

Anne pulled up along the curb outside the store. Mrs. B pulled her purse out from under the seat.  As they got out of their car, the roar of two enormous black motorcycles made them turn and look behind them.

Two young men in leather vests parked at the curb. The shorter one, sporting a big grin and a mass of blond curls, gave a long whistle as he walked toward them. “Nine-teen sixty eight! This your car?”

“My grandson’s. He’s in the service. Afghanistan.” Anne smiled back. “I told him I’d keep it in my garage, but you have to take them out once in a while, don’t you?”

“Sure. Blow the carbon out.” He ran his hand along the fender as he circled it slowly. “Baby blue. Bay-bee blue. This is one fine car. Original upholstery?”

Anne tilted her head to consider. “I think so.”

He nodded toward Mrs. B, then held out his hand. “Haven’t seen you ladies out this way before. I’m Boom.” They both shook his hand while a large, dark man hovered over them. “This here’s Tiny.” Tiny looked at Boom, then nodded toward the ladies.

Boom said, “You ever need that Mustang serviced, you come out our way. I promise not to sneak it out for a drive. Or two.”

Anne and Mrs. B both laughed.

As the men disappeared into the store, Boom said in a loud whisper, “Matches her eyes, don’t it, Tiny? That baby blue.” Then he gave Anne a wink as the door closed.

When the bikers were out of sight, Anne whispered to Mrs. B, “What’s that say on the back of their vests?”

“M.C., it said. I’d guess it’s an insignia for a motorcycle club,” Mrs. B said. She was looking at the poster on the telephone pole. “The county fair’s today.”

“Oh, yeah. The fairground’s just over that rise.” Anne pointed. “Always had to take the kids to the county fair when they were little.”

“Me, too. Wasn’t that a long day,” Mrs. B said.

“The kids used to love it,” Anne said. “Not me, so much. All those stinky cows.”

“They did have funnel cakes.”

“Oooh, good point.”

Anne peered over Mrs. B’s shoulder at the brightly colored poster. “When I was little, I always wanted to run away to the circus, like Toby Tyler. Didn’t you?”

Before Mrs. B had a chance to answer, Boom and Tiny came back outside, each lighting a cigarette. When they got to the bottom of the steps, a woman in a white t-shirt and jeans opened the door and said, “Hey, Boom.”

He turned around.

“You going down over the hill?”

“We can,” Boom said. “Why? What do you need?”

“Tell the professor I got those solar batteries in?”

“Sure,” Boom said.

He and Tiny walked by the ladies on the way back to their bikes. Tiny was even bigger close up. Mrs. B felt like a mouse next to an elephant. As the men drove away, they both nodded toward Anne and Mrs. B. The ladies waved.

Anne said, “I can’t remember the last time I was winked at. They were good-looking young fellows, too.” She walked toward the door of the little store, then looked back at Mrs. B. “So what exactly is a motorcycle club, I wonder. Like the Kiwanis? Or do they hold races and things like that?”

“Sometimes it can be a criminals club,” Mrs. B said.

“Well, I thought those young men were nice,” Anne said.

Mrs. B had to agree. “They were very polite.”

“They were charming.” Anne wouldn’t be dissuaded. “You know, people aren’t always bad just because they’re criminals.” She opened the door and they were hit with a blast of cold air. “Remember how nice New Cannington used to be when the Mafia ran it? You never saw drug dealings or muggings or anything like that. My cousins who lived out there didn’t even lock their doors.”

 

Guest Review

Reason for Concern: Mrs. B Mystery by Anita Kulina

Review by Betty B.

When I tell you to picture a detective or a sleuth, what do you see? Probably a grizzled old, cigar-chomping, trench coat-wearing man right? The kinda guy who never sleeps, only drinks black coffee, and solves crimes by frowning at them. You probably don’t picture a little old lady who investigates mysteries in between knitting scarves for her daughter and games of pinochle at a senior center. Enter Mrs. B.

Mrs. B is just the kind of sweet old woman that you appreciate having as a neighbor. She’s friendly, thoughtful, kind and conscientious. She loves her town and her friends and doesn’t intend to give either of them up until the day she dies. This, of course, explains why she immediately feels the need to investigate when her friend goes missing. T

he story opens with Mrs. B waiting for her friend, Alice, expecting to give her a ride home. When Alice never emerges from the senior center, Mrs. B goes looking for her, only to find that no one knows where she went. Of course, Mrs. B feels compelled to find her friend, and what ensues is the main mystery of the book. Where has Alice gone? Why has no one seen her?

This novel was right up my alley in terms of a nice mystery with a good resolution and well-written, fleshed out characters. Anita Kulina’s writing is witty, interesting and the characters just feel very alive while you’re reading them. I adored Mrs. B and her inner world. So little attention is paid to older women in our society and it’s revolutionary to see one as the main character of a novel at all, let alone a mystery. It was so nice to read a story like this from the perspective of such a unique character. I can’t wait to read more by this author!

 

About the Author

Anita Kulina has been writing since she was nine years old and kneeling, pencil in hand, at the coffee table in a house very much like Mrs. B’s.  Nowadays, she writes mystery books.  When she’s not writing, she helps people tell their family stories.  Anita’s other books are Millhunks and Renegades and A Question of Devotion: A Mrs. B Mystery.

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Title: I See You

Author: Mary Burton

Release Date: October 8, 2019

Publisher: Montlake

 

Synopsis

FBI special agent Zoe Spencer uses skeletal remains to recreate the faces of murder victims through sculpture. Though highly scientific, the process is also sensitive and intimate; she becomes attached to the individuals she identifies, desperate to find justice for each.

As Zoe examines old remains, she sees a teenage girl looking back at her—the victim in a cold case from over a decade ago. Zoe wants nothing more than to tell this young woman’s story and to bring her killer to justice.

Zoe’s case leads her to the victim’s hometown and to homicide detective William Vaughan, Zoe’s on-again, off-again lover. As the two become more involved in the case, they quickly realize that it isn’t as cold as they first believed: someone’s still out there hunting women. And with more women gone missing, time’s running out. Can they work together and stop this madman before he kills again?

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An Affair (and a Murder) To Remember with Author Mary Burton

I SEE YOU, my latest romantic suspense, features two of my very favorite characters: Homicide Detective William Vaughan and FBI Special Agent Zoe Spencer.

Zoe Spencer is a member of an FBI criminal profiling team dedicated to finding the most violent and prolific killers. Zoe, a talented artist and agent, specializes in forensic reconstruction. She skillfully merges her interview skills with pencil and paper to create stunning likenesses. And when only bones remain, she molds clay over bone to recreate the faces of the lost.

Zoe’s work generates a high case-closure rate, which draws the attention of the law enforcement community. Her lectures at the FBI headquarters at Quantico are often standing room only. Among those interested in her work is Homicide Detective William Vaughan.

Detective Vaughan, divorced and raising a college bound teenager, is a man of few words and when he does comment, his observations are always thoughtful and insightful. He not only hears what is said and but sees what is communicated via body language.
The more time Vaughan spends with Zoe, the greater his desire to breach her cool demeanor. He draws upon all his powers of observation, practiced detective skills and his somewhat rusty charm to win her. Though they begin an affair, she still remains elusive.
When a charred skull is found in Vaughan’s jurisdiction of Alexandria, Virginia, he turns to Zoe. Zoe recreates a stunning clay bust that leads to the identification of a girl who has been missing for fifteen years.

As Vaughan and Zoe dig deeper, the cold case heats up when several more women, similar to their victim, are discovered brutally murdered. This killer, who has avoided capture for so many years, is still hunting women. It becomes a race against time to catch a madman who shifts his sights to his next victim: Zoe Spencer.

I hope you enjoy I SEE YOU and this magnetic couple who I’ve pitted against one of my most chilling villains so far.

 

Excerpt

The instant Vaughan woke, he knew she was gone. He should not have been surprised. She never stayed long, but he’d thought last night would be different.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and instantly spotted the note on the mirror. It was written on the back of the fast-food receipt in fluid and graceful handwriting.

Called a car. Didn’t want to wake you.

Spencer. He knew how to make that woman’s body tighten with desire and how to make her moan in a way that told him she was fully attuned to his body. But beyond that, she was still a complete stranger.

He flicked the edge of the note, surprised he had not awoken. Since he had become a cop and father, he had turned into a light sleeper. Both incarnations, like a doctor on call, were summoned at all times of the day and night. His ability to shake off sleep in seconds and then think clearly was well honed. But yesterday had been long, even for him.

He laid the note on his dresser as he glanced at the pillow that still held the impression of her head. It was not like him to be sentimental, but he was sorry he likely would not see her for a while.

He showered, and fifteen minutes later he was dressed, his badge and sidearm on his belt. As the coffee brewed, he scrambled five eggs before he realized Nate was gone. He toasted a bagel and ate alone at the kitchen table.

He filled a travel mug with more coffee and was on the road by six o’clock. Moonlight mingled with the lights looming over I-395 as he looped around the beltway and headed north toward his exit. The traffic was already building, and soon it would slow to a snail’s pace.

With luck, the first wave of files from the Prince case would be in his office. He had been warned that there were a dozen file boxes, but he did not care. He also had the autopsy of the Jane Doe stabbed to death in the motel room to attend. It was going to be another long day.

Fifteen minutes later, he had parked and was in the break room, refilling his coffee. When he flipped on the lights of his office, there were six file boxes stacked in front of his desk. A green sticky note read More to come.

It was too early to call the medical examiner about his Jane Doe from the motel room, so he set his cup down and flipped through the first set of files.

He spent the next hour and a half reading through the detectives’ notes. At the time of Marsha’s disappearance, the detectives had exhausted every lead and tip that had come into the station, but in the end came up with nothing.

 

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling novelist Mary Burton is the highly praised author of thirty five published romance and suspense novels and five novellas. She lives in Virginia with her husband and three miniature dachshunds.

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Creed of the Guardian (Heart of the Warrior – Book Three)

Genre: Epic Fantasy

Release Date:  October 18, 2019

 

Synopsis

Protect the Innocent. Punish the Guilty.

Seth the Ice Lion, now an Apprentice in the Jalora Legion, reluctantly travels aboard ship with his new battalion. Western Beta’s mission seems a dull assignment. Guarding miles of bogs and old ruins should be a simple task, but Seth soon learns nothing is easy for the Bearer of the Lion Ring. The Jalora is the embodiment of Good and the source of Seth’s power. It commands he search North Marsh for a relic capable of saving his homeland from the ravenous appetite of the Jackal invaders. Surrounded by deadly bogs and savage beasts, he must find the relic before the Lion Spirit inside of him takes control of their shared body.

Invaders from across the sea hold a firm grip on Valdeon, but their thirst for blood remains unsated. They lust for the riches of Andara. Using fear and greed as weapons, the Jackal enlist aid from the continent’s unscrupulous mercenaries to prepare for a larger invasion. They build a stronghold – Stone Fang Fortress – in the Bloodtooth Mountains of the north. It is here they prepare to conquer the free world.

Will Seth find this powerful relic before the Jackal swarm invades Andara? Or will his people be enslaved under the iron fist of the Jackal Lord? Seth’s answers hide in the deadly bogs of North Marsh…

 

 

Read about the first two books on my blog from last year

 

Excerpt

Chapter One

 

Seth D’Antoiné punched his fist into a helpless bundle of hay secured in the airship’s hold. Trapped like mindless livestock, he and his best friend—his squire, Riley Logan—had been herded inside a reinforced section of the hull. The suffocating enclosure was typically used to house mounts for the Jalora Legion’s traveling rangers. Fortunately for all concerned, the battalion wasn’t taking horses with them to North Marsh.

“Great gulls! Would you stop? I’m near death, and you want to punch things.” Riley gripped the porthole with one hand and covered his mouth with the other.

“You’re already airsick? We haven’t set sail yet. Our journey to North Marsh Outpost spans three days. The trip will be a rough one if you don’t settle your stomach. Can’t you make some concoction?”

Ignoring Riley’s glare, Seth leaned against the hold wall. The Lion Ring on his finger pulsed to the beat of his angry heart. It, too, resented being caged by their uneasy allies. The Jalora was the force for good on Erthe. Its Legion consisted of men, each of whom had been bonded in service by a Heart of the Warrior ring. Every such talisman clung to its bearer’s left middle finger, feeding off the host’s blood. Seth lifted his Lion Ring and regarded it. His blood surged and ebbed with the tide inside the yellow crystal.

“They’ve no right to cage me like a beast! I have things I must do.”

His thoughts returned to the hidden passageways boring through the granite body of the Obsidian Citadel, his former duty post. A few hours before the Legion caged him, Seth had chased his murderous half-brother, Julian, to the battlements. Mercenaries had been waiting for him there, ready to fight. His new Lion Friend, Lord Fausto De Quintaro, and the men of Valdeon had stood with Seth to drive the villains from the stronghold. Fausto had vowed to return to Valdeon with rebellion in mind. Seth desperately wanted to go with him, but the Jalora Legion had other plans in mind for the new bearer of the Lion Ring.

“Aye. But you’ve been grousing for the last half-hour. Please give me a little peace so I can calm my aching head.” Riley swayed forward with a groan. “Tell me what happened when you met with that foul-tempered uncle of yours. As quietly as possible, if you please.”

Seth’s uncle, Esteban D’Antoiné, was a prince of Valdeon and bearer of the Hawk Ring. His very name sent Seth’s temper surging. Esteban’s intrigues had ripped their family apart.

“Hawk was the ranger who bargained with the assassin Pavel Sandor on Marianna,” Seth reminded his friend. “My uncle found Mother when I was a baby and promised her he would protect us by keeping my existence secret. Hawk assumed he had Pavel under his control. We both know his madness was uncontainable.” Seth ran a hand across his face. “My uncle claims he sends us with the Phoenix for my protection.”

Riley sighed. “Who knows what waits for us at the end of this journey. I’m not sure I trust that uncle of yours. It seems to me he should have waited for Cardinal Dragon to return.”

 

 

About the Author

C.R. Richards’ literary career began when she interned as a part-time columnist for a small entertainment newspaper. She wore several hats: food critic, entertainment reviewer and cranky editor. A co-author of horror and urban fantasy novels, her first solo fiction project – The Mutant Casebook Series – was published by Whiskey Creek Press in 2013. Phantom Harvest (Book One in the series) is the winner of the 2014 EPIC eBook Awards for Fantasy Fiction. Cynthia is an active member of the Horror Writers Association, EPIC and Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers. For more information about her books, visit her website: www.crrichards.com

 

Books and Short Fiction by C.R. Richards: Phantom Harvest (2013), Lost Man’s Parish (2014), Pariah (2014), The Lords of Valdeon (2015) and The Obsidian Gates (2017)

 

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Christmas in Winter Valley

Ransom Canyon, #8

by

Jodi Thomas

 

Genre: Contemporary / Western / Holiday Romance

Publisher: HQN

Publication Date: September 24, 2019

Number of Pages: 288 pages

Scroll down for the giveaway!

 

 

Ransom Canyon welcomes you back for a Christmas that has everything you’re looking for: romance, family, and a whole lot of Texas.

Cooper Holloway would take nature over people any day—especially visiting relatives. That’s why he’s headed for a rustic cabin in remote Winter Valley, where he’ll care for a herd of wild mustangs. But Cooper’s plans are quickly thwarted by the arrival of two unexpected guests: one, a stranger in desperate need of his help, and the other, a very attractive young veterinarian.

Elliott is busy trying to keep Maverick Ranch running smoothly with Cooper gone, which is no easy task with family visiting. And when a long-lost love suddenly reappears in his life, Elliott knows he’ll have more than just books to balance this season.

With a big, chaotic family Christmas around the corner and love blooming in surprising ways, the Holloway men will have to make big choices about the future—just in time for the holidays.

 

 

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Praise

“This book has everything you would want. Laughter, drama. And tears both happy and sad. I highly recommend this book.” — Patty Champion (5 Stars, Goodreads Review)

“I could not put this book down once I started it and longed for more once I was done.” — Melanie (5 Stars, Goodreads Review)

“I got lost in the world that she [Jodi Thomas] has created and enjoyed seeing her characters with their overlapping and interconnected stories find a happiness that none of them expected to ever find.” — B. (5 Stars, Goodreads Review)

 

 

Excerpt from

Christmas in Winter Valley

by Jodi Thomas

 

I’d like to introduce a character who came to me one night when I was writing about Ransom Canyon.

It was after midnight, and the branches of the trees near my upstairs study were scratching against the windows as a storm blew in.  I was putting together a story of three brothers for a book that would be named Christmas in Winter Valley.

The rain started hard as hail on my study surrounded on three sides by windows.

THEN, my character Tye comes along.  He sat down across the desk from me and began to tell me his story: He’s older, worn out, and doesn’t believe in love.

I laughed—am I going to love writing this guy’s story!

Hope you enjoy a first look at Tye in CHRISTMAS IN WINTER VALLEY. — Jodi

= = =

 

December 10, Wyoming

Tye Franklin walked the rainy-day shadows of the rodeo grounds. He was well into his forties and hard as leather, and most agreed that he was usually one drink past being drunk.

He never bothered to argue. In truth, he rarely talked to anyone. His job was to haul in rough stock for small rodeos across the West. He’d made sure the pens were loaded with hard-to-ride broncs and bulls flashing Satan’s fire in their eyes.

He’d lived so long around the mud and blood of the rodeo that it was more home than anywhere he’d ever been.

As he passed from one floodlight to another in the silence of a cloudy arena, he watched his shadow beside him. Long and lean. He wore his Stetson low, even after sundown. His back was bowed just a bit from fatigue, and he had a limp he carried like a badge of failure.

Tye smiled at his shadow. Sometimes he won­dered if he was the echo and the dark carbon copy that paced him was real. They weren’t that differ­ent. Both almost invisible. Both silent. Both broken.

“Franklin,” someone yelled from the row of empty stands. “You still out here?”

Tye recognized Harden’s voice. “I am, Trooper, but you can’t arrest me for being a walking drunk.”

The lawman didn’t bother to laugh. “Damn it, Tye, you’re the hardest man in this state to find. If I hadn’t seen that tin can of a truck of yours, I never would have found you. A Texas Ranger down in Austin I know has got me looking for you.” His words came as fast and sharp as his steps on the metal bleachers.

Tye didn’t move. He’d figured trouble would find him soon enough without him running toward it.

Harden was out of breath when he reached the mud of the arena. “Double damn. If it rains again to­night, we won’t be able to have the rodeo tomorrow. Folks around here look forward to it all year long.”

“You just come out to give me the weather fore­cast, Officer?” Tye pushed back his hat so he could meet the trooper’s eyes. In an odd way, they were friends. Tye had done what he could to keep the law­men in this area in business. Running stoplights. Being drunk and disorderly. Occasionally picking a fight in a bar just so he could feel the pain.

Harden glared at him. “I came to deliver this to you. It’s traveled across several states to find you.” He slapped a brown envelope against Tye’s chest. “Tonight it appears I’m just a mailman, nothing more.”

Tye grinned. “The Texas Rangers after me again?”

“No, it’s from a lawyer. I think the Rangers were just helping find you.”

Tye rolled up the envelope and put it in his coat pocket. He cared less about what was in it than the trooper did.

Harden spit in the dirt. “Hell. I came all the way out here and you’re not going to tell me what’s in it?”

“Nope.”

Turning, he walked away with Harden describ­ing, in detail, what he planned to do the next time he arrested the cowboy.

Tye didn’t care about the letter or the threats or much of anything.

His body was strong. Hard work kept him fit, but Tye knew deep down inside he was dying. A man without a heart could only pretend he’s alive for so long.

Not one person would mourn him when he died. Tye had no one who’d care, and he planned to keep it that way.

 

 

 

 

 

With millions of books in print, Jodi Thomas is both a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over fifty novels and countless short story collections. Her stories travel through the past and present days of Texas and draw readers from around the world.

In July 2006, Jodi was the 11^th writer to be inducted into the Romance Writers of America Hall of Fame. With five RITA’s to her credit, along with National Readers’ Choice Awards and Booksellers’ Best Awards, Thomas has proven her skill as a master storyteller.

Thomas was honored in 2002 as a Distinguished Alumni by Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas and served sixteen years as the Writer in Residence at West Texas A&M University in Canyon, Texas.

When not working on a novel, or inspiring students to pursue writing careers, Thomas enjoys traveling with her family, renovating a historic home, and “checking up” on two grown sons and four grandchildren.

 

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║ Pinterest  ║ Goodreads ║

 

 

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10/3/19	Notable Quotable	The Page Unbound
10/3/19	BONUS Post	Hall Ways Blog
10/4/19	Review	That’s What She’s Reading
10/5/19	Author Video	All the Ups and Downs
10/6/19	Review	Librariel Book Adventures
10/7/19	Excerpt	StoreyBook Reviews
10/8/19	Review	Rainy Days with Amanda
10/9/19	Scrapbook Page	The Clueless Gent
10/10/19	Review	The Book Review
10/11/19	Review	Carpe Diem Chronicles
10/12/19	Notable Quotable	Missus Gonzo

 

 

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The Gryphon Heist

(Talia Inger, Book One)

by

James R. Hannibal

 

 

Genre: Contemporary Christian / Thriller / Suspense

Publisher: Revell

Date of Publication: September 3, 2019

Number of Pages: 400

Scroll down for the giveaway!

 

 

 

Talia Inger is a rookie CIA case officer assigned not to the Moscow desk as she had hoped but to the forgotten backwaters of Eastern Europe–a department only known as “Other.” When she is tasked with helping a young, charming Moldovan executive secure his designs for a revolutionary defense technology, she figures she’ll be back in DC within a few days. But that’s before she knows where the designs are stored–and who’s after them.

With her shady civilian partner, Adam Tyler, Talia takes a deep dive into a world where criminal minds and unlikely strategies compete for access to the Gryphon, a high-altitude data vault that hovers in the mesosphere. But is Tyler actually helping her? Or is he using her for his own dark purposes?

 

Baker Book House ◆ Amazon ◆ Barnes & Noble

Christianbook.com ◆ Kobo ◆ Books-A-Million

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Praise

“A movie-worthy tale of espionage and intrigue. Hannibal has done it again.”–Steven James, national bestselling author of Every Wicked Man

“James Hannibal has crafted a story slam full of mystery, danger, twists, and turns. I couldn’t flip the pages fast enough–or bother to stop to breathe. You don’t want to miss this one!”–Lynette Eason, bestselling, award-winning author of the Blue Justice series

“The Gryphon Heist plunges readers into a world where no one can be trusted, nothing is as it seems, and choosing the wrong side could be catastrophic.”–Lynn H. Blackburn, award-winning and bestselling author of the Dive Team Investigations series

“Leap on board The Gryphon Heist and ride the whirlwind of suspense. Don’t let go!”–DiAnn Mills, bestselling author of Burden of Proof

 

 

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE OF

THE GRYPHON HEIST

BY JAMES R. HANNIBAL

 

Present Day
Undisclosed Location

Talia Inger clutched her side, letting her shoulder fall against the alley wall. The pain had been growing for the last half hour, threatening to overtake her as it had in Windsor.

Eddie Gupta, her team specialized skills officer, sat cross-legged on the asphalt beside her, hidden from the street by a dumpster defaced with Cyrillic graffiti. He looked up with concern, fingers hovering over a tablet computer. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Talia shoved the pain to the back of her mind. She wouldn’t fail—not again. “Bring up Whisper One. Show me the square.”

An app expanded to show infrared video of a small city square. A few gray, lukewarm figures drifted across the cold black of the cobblestones. A white heat source flared near the center, blocking out a good bit of the image for a moment before the filters kicked in. The flash subsided to reveal a single individual seated on the edge of a fountain. The hot spot remained where his hand should be for several seconds, then dropped to the ground and was snuffed out, crushed under his heel.

“There’s Borov.” A hint of British Indian colored Eddie’s accent. “He’s giving us the all-clear signal. Do you remember his code name?”

Talia shot him a look, and he answered with a sly smile. She remembered everything. Always. Eddie knew that. Her eyes returned to the drone feed. “Escort, Siphon is ready. Move in.”

“On it, Control,” a young woman replied through Talia’s earpiece. “Moving now.”

The infrared camera on Eddie’s Whisper nano-drone picked up another gray figure entering the square from the west, moving toward the fountain at a brisk pace. Even from behind the alley dumpster, two streets away, Talia could hear the echoing clop of the linguist’s designer heels on the stones. “Take it easy, Kayla,” she said, using the girl’s name instead of her call sign to be sure she caught her attention. Kayla hated the handle Escort, anyway. “Slow is fast, remember?”

The linguist slowed her pace to an exaggerated stroll. Talia closed her eyes and shook her head. She should have kept her mouth shut. The abrupt change looked out of place in the quiet square—enough to draw the attention of any local opposition. She held her breath. The pain in her side flared. But no enemy forces stormed in to grab Kayla.

Alexi Borov’s deep grumble came to her through the comm link—a low, intense string of Belarusian. When he moved to stand, Kayla touched his arm and sat beside him, offering what Talia hoped were whispered assurances of his safety. After a few tense seconds, he nodded. More grumbles. Kayla switched to English. “Two, six, nine, seven.”

A third player read back the sequence. “Two, six, nine, seven. Black Bag copies. Stand by.”

In the silence that followed, Eddie glanced up at Talia. She gave him a smile, made thin by her pain. “We’ll make it. It’s been a year. We can last another twenty minutes.”

One year.

One year of academics, field craft, and mock missions, knowing everything—fake embassy balls, live-fire exercises, chance meetings with undercover agents in Chestertown—everything was a test. Talia’s only break had been the TGT—the Trainee Grand Tour—which had taken her across four continents in two months, sampling every menial, low-risk job the Agency could offer. And even that had ended in a twenty-page evaluation from six different supervisors. One year of weeding out the chaff.

Only five candidates remained. Tonight was their final exam.

 

CLICK TO FINISH READING CHAPTER ONE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Former stealth pilot James R. Hannibal is a two-time Silver Falchion Award winner for his Section 13 mysteries for kids and a Thriller Award nominee for his Nick Baron covert ops series for adults. James is a rare multi-sense synesthete, meaning all of his senses intersect. He sees and feels sounds and smells and hears flashes of light. He lives in Houston, Texas.

 Website ⬥ Facebook

Twitter  ⬥ Instagram

Goodreads ⬥ Amazon Author Page

 

 

 

 

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Check out the other blogs on this tour

9/26/19	Notable Quotable	The Clueless Gent
9/26/19	BONUS Post	Hall Ways Blog
9/27/19	Review	Reading by Moonlight
9/28/19	Author Interview	All the Ups and Downs
9/29/19	Review	Max Knight
9/30/19	Excerpt	StoreyBook Reviews
10/1/19	Review	The Page Unbound
10/2/19	Top Ten List	That’s What She’s Reading
10/3/19	Author Interview	Missus Gonzo
10/4/19	Review	Chapter Break Book Blog
10/5/19	Review	Momma on the Rocks

 

 

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