Every Last Breath

By: Juno Rushdan

Publication Date: 4/30/2019

Synopsis

48 hours

2 covert operatives

1 chance to get it right

Maddox Kinkade is an expert at managing the impossible. Tasked with neutralizing a lethal bioweapon, she turns to the one person capable of helping her stop the threat of pandemic in time: the love of her life, back from the dead and mad as hell at her supposed betrayal. Recruiting Cole to save millions of lives may be harder than resisting the attraction still burning between them, but Maddox will do whatever it takes…even if it destroys her.

When Maddox crashes back into Cole Matthews’ life, he wants to fight back. He wants to hate her. But the crisis is too strong to ignore, and soon the two former lovers find themselves working side-by-side in a breakneck race to stop a world-class killer with a secret that could end everything.

The clock is ticking.

The Final Hour Series

Every Last Breath

Nothing to Fear (coming August 2019)

Until the End (coming early 2020)

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Excerpt

F STREET, WASHINGTON, DC

12:21 P.M. EDT

No thought of how far he’d have to run, how long he had to push, Cole held a singular focus: catch the Ghost.

To keep Maddox safe, he had to reach the devil first.

Extending his stride in a flat–out sprint, Cole gave it everything. His shoulder hurt like hell.

He was gaining on him. Less than thirty feet, chipping away at the distance with every hot lungful.

Just ahead was the Gallery Place Metro—-one of the busiest stations in DC. A throng of passengers streamed in and out of the cavernous entrance. The Ghost wove between people, darting to the left then right, flowing like a stream of water around stones.

Don’t lose him. Stay close. Almost there.

Cole knocked a man out of the way and slipped through a narrow opening in the pedestrian herd. The entrance cleared ahead, and there was Novak.

The Ghost zipped past the station agent, Metrorail vending machines, and vaulted over the turnstile in one fluid motion.

Steamrolling forward into the musty air and under the fluorescent lights of the station, Cole hopped the turnstile.

Maddox’s pounding footsteps weren’t far behind.

Cole cut to the east side of the Metro station, keeping sight of the Ghost. Escalators to the trains on the lower level were around a corner. Hopefully, passengers lining the moving staircase would slow Novak down.

What if he deployed the weapon in the station or on the Metrorail? The virus would spread fast with no way to contain it.

Novak hesitated at the escalators and snapped a glimpse over his shoulder, not looking the least bit winded. Their eyes met, and that freakish smile hitched up Novak’s mouth. In a flash, he whirled, facing the escalator.

Then he jumped onto the wide metal panel running between the escalators and slid down.

Shit!

Breathless, Cole reached the escalator and peered over the side. Down a long, steep descent running several stories below ground. Really fucking long and very steep.

Sonofabitch. Novak had no limits and kept pushing the line. Cole hated heights, but that lunatic was getting away, and Maddox was closing in. No time. No time to think.

He vaulted onto the steel divider flanked by the two escalators.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” quipped a teenage kid getting off.

It felt a hell of a lot crazier than it looked. With the constraints of the narrow panel, Cole was forced to roll onto his side as

Novak had done. Maddox’s pounding footsteps drew closer. Not giving himself a chance to chicken out, he let go and gravity took him.

In a lightning rush, he zipped down cool, smooth steel feetfirst.

“Cole!” Maddox’s voice echoed overhead.

His jackhammering heart blasted into his throat, followed by his stomach. He slid down the tight divider like a slick stone.

The faces of gawking onlookers were a blur. He braced, leaning back against the steep, eighty–foot decline. He almost swallowed his tongue.

To control his breathless descent, he thrust his forearms out to the sides.

Bad idea.

His sleeves dragged against the rubber handrails, the friction turning his quicksilver slide into a jerky ride. He feared flipping over the side onto the steel teeth of an escalator.

Weightless, helpless, he drew his arms in close to his body.

Not every Metro in DC had bumpers. The puck-sized discs didn’t stop a fall, only turned a person into tenderized meat by the time they reached the bottom. He was grateful not to face any here.

The ground below was a desperate hope rushing toward him, coming at him fast. But it was the longest eight seconds of his life.

Wild exhilaration wrestled with fear.

Fear was better.

It’d keep him sharp and hungry. Keep him alive.

Novak reached the bottom and glanced up at Cole before disappearing in the direction of the Red line.

Swooshing off the metal panel, Cole’s feet stumbled finding the floor. The electric surge rising in him was akin to being born again. He fell to one knee and sprang forward, following the trail of twisting heads and necks craned over shoulders.

The corridor spilled onto the westbound platform. People stood shoulder to shoulder. Jam-packed with kids, from teens to middle-schoolers, in a patchwork of yellow, green, light–blue, and red T-shirts.

Damn it. Summer camp field trips.

Across the tracks, the eastbound side was worse. He glanced at the inbound train sign overhead—-three minutes ETA.

Three minutes before the Ghost could be lost in the wind.

Dim lighting in the concave tunnel turned needle–in–a–haystack into finding a needle in a pine forest, at night. Red LED lights lined the bumpy tiles along the edge of the platform but did nothing to brighten the landscape. Chest heaving, he slowed his breathing while scanning for a dark ball cap, black backpack. Anyone in long sleeves.

He shouldered past people, weaving around a huddle of kids and chaperones in light blue T-shirts that read Ride the Summer Wave. Every ten steps, he checked his rear, ensuring he hadn’t missed the Ghost, somehow overlooked him in the sea of passengers.

Maddox made it down, rushing onto the eastbound side across the tracks. She scoured the platform.

Cole pressed forward. Most bodies stayed stationary or paced one to two feet within a localized space. He caught glimpses of one person with a blue ball cap and backpack. Drifting slowly. Snaking around shifting figures. Cole bulldozed his way to the thin male.

Metallic bitterness coated his tongue. He clasped a hand on the man’s shoulder and wrenched him around.

A wide-eyed young man with olive–toned skin stared back. “Hey, buddy, what’s your problem?”

“Sorry.” Cole raised his palms and backed off.

Red LED lights across the tracks on Maddox’s side flashed. A train was coming.

Two minutes until his westbound train arrived. He stepped up his pace through the milling flock of people, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. His sixth sense, the electric worm, carved a wriggling path from his skull down his spine, fizzing and spitting sparks across his nerve endings.

The rumble of the eastbound train resounded. Cole glanced back to see lights and Maddox peering down the tunnel at the inbound train. Dread churned his gut.

He faced forward and caught the Ghost’s steely gaze at the other end of the same platform. No baseball cap. The maniacal grin on full display. A moment. Less. A millisecond. Cole pushed toward him, storming through the gaggle of day campers.

Novak made his move. A bloodcurdling scream rent the air as the Ghost leapt off the platform, arm locked around a woman, hauling her over the side along with him. He let go of her and dashed across the westbound tracks, avoiding the electrified third rail.

Bounding over a strip of lighting in the middle, Novak rushed across the eastbound tracks. He jumped, pressing his hands onto the platform, and lifted his body with the fluidity of a gymnast. The flat–faced train whizzed into the station on the opposite side, concealing Maddox and the Ghost from sight.

Red lights flashed on Cole’s platform. He ran to help the fallen woman. Elbowing anyone in his way, he rushed to the far end.

The eastbound train on the other side stopped and the doors opened.

Cole swept paralyzed gawkers to the side and reached down to the plump woman in the light yellow T-shirt, Pirates and Princesses Summer Camp written across the front. Out of his peripheral vision, cowering children shrieked and whimpered.

“Come on.” He beckoned to the stunned woman clambering to her feet. “Take my hand.”

Chimes dinged from the train across the way, and his skin prickled. Doors were about to close.

“Let’s go, lady,” he snapped at her, trying to get her moving.

Lights of the approaching westbound train on his side did the trick.

A horn blared, kicking the woman into action, hustling to the platform. She grabbed both his hands and he held tight to her forearms and heaved. Thankfully, she was lighter than she looked, but his back still protested. A black kid in his late teens, with headphones on, helped him tug her the rest of the way up onto the platform.

“You okay?” Cole asked.

She nodded, and tears streaked down her cheeks. Covering her face with her hands, she broke into sobs. Yellow T-shirts gathered around her, and Cole shot to his feet.

The train on the other side pulled out. The steel cars vanished down the dark tunnel. He swept a frantic gaze over the platform.

Empty.

Cole’s blood drained from his head as a hot ball of panic burned a hole in his gut.

Maddox and the Ghost were both gone.

About the Author

Juno Rushdan draws from real-life inspiration as a former U.S. Air Force Intelligence Officer to craft sizzling romantic thrillers. However, you won’t find any classified leaks here. Her stories are pure fiction about kick-ass heroes and strong heroines fighting for their lives as well as their happily-ever-after.

Although Juno is a native New Yorker, wanderlust has taken her across the globe. Fortunately, she is blessed with a husband who shares her passion for travel, movies, and fantastic food. She’s visited more than twenty different countries and has lived in England and Germany. Her favorite destination for relaxation is the Amalfi Coast, Italy for its stunning seascape, cliffside lemon groves, terraced vineyards, amazing pasta, and to-die-for vino.

When she’s not writing, Juno loves spending time with her family. Exercise is not her favorite thing to do, but she squeezes some in since chocolate and red wine aren’t calorie-free.

She currently resides in Virginia with her supportive hubby, two dynamic children, and spoiled rescue dogs.

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Title: JOSEPHINE BAKER’S LAST DANCE
Author: Sherry Jones
Publisher: Gallery Books
Pages: 304
Genre: Biography/Historical

Synopsis

From the author of The Jewel of Medina, a moving and insightful novel based on the life of legendary performer and activist Josephine Baker, perfect for fans of The Paris Wife and Hidden Figures.

Discover the fascinating and singular life story of Josephine Baker—actress, singer, dancer, Civil Rights activist, member of the French Resistance during WWII, and a woman dedicated to erasing prejudice and creating a more equitable world—in Josephine Baker’s Last Dance.

In this illuminating biographical novel, Sherry Jones brings to life Josephine’s early years in servitude and poverty in America, her rise to fame as a showgirl in her famous banana skirt, her activism against discrimination, and her many loves and losses. From 1920s Paris to 1960s Washington, to her final, triumphant performance, one of the most extraordinary lives of the twentieth century comes to stunning life on the page.

With intimate prose and comprehensive research, Sherry Jones brings this remarkable and compelling public figure into focus for the first time in a joyous celebration of a life lived in technicolor, a powerful woman who continues to inspire today.

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Excerpt

Just before she entered the stage door, a drop of rain hit her on the head. No, that was not a bad omen, only a reminder to do her best, to shine like the star she was, or would be. Wilsie came running up—Mr. Sissle was there, but Mr. Blake had yet to arrive. “You’ll knock ’em dead, Tumpy. Just do your dancing and forget the rest.” Josephine didn’t need to be told that. She was ready.

She flexed and stretched her arms as she walked with Wilsie across the stage, past the musicians gathering, trumpets and saxophones and drums and a clarinet, down into the auditorium, where a slender man spoke to a white-haired man at his side. He turned his head very slightly and looked her up and down from the corners of his shrewd, hard eyes. His mouth pursed.

“How old are you?” he’d said before Wilsie had even introduced them. The stage door opened, and a very dark-skinned man with a bald head hurried in, talking about “the damned rain,” scampering down the steps, striding up the aisle, shaking water from his clothes.

“Eubie Blake,” he said, smiling, holding out his hand to her.

“This is Tumpy, Mr. Blake, the one I told you about,” Wilsie said. “She’s here to audition for Clara’s spot in the chorus.”

The man with Mr. Sissle—the stage manager—motioned to her and she followed him up the stage steps. Did she know the songs? Could she dance to “I’m Just Wild about Harry”? Josephine wanted to jump for joy. She pretended to watch as Wilsie showed her the steps, which she already knew as if she’d made them up herself. Josephine stripped down to her dingy leotard, tossed her clothes on a chair, then ran and leaped to the center of the stage. This was it. She bent over to grasp her ankles, stretching her legs, then stood and pulled her arms over her head.

“Ready?” Mr. Sissle barked. The music started, and she began the dance, so simple she could have done it in her sleep. Practicing in the Standard, she’d gotten bored with it and had made up her own steps, throwing in a little Black Bottom, wiggling her ass and kicking her legs twice as high as they wanted to go, taken by the music, played by it, the instruments’ instrument, flapping her hands, step and kick and spin and spin and squat and jump and down in a split, up and jump and kick and spin—oops, the steps, she didn’t need no damn steps, she had better ones—and kick and jump and wiggle and spin. She looked out into the auditorium—a big mistake: Mr. Blake’s mouth was open and Mr. Sissle’s eyes had narrowed to slits. Don’t be nervous, just dance. Only the music remained now, her feet and the stage.

When she’d finished, panting, and pulled on her dress and shoes, Wilsie came running over, her eyes shining. “You made their heads spin, you better believe it,” she whispered, but when they went down into the aisle Josephine heard Mr. Sissle muttering.

“Too young, too dark, too ugly,” he said. The world stopped turning, then, the sun frozen in its arc, every clock still, every breath caught in every throat. Mr. Blake turned to her, smiling as if everything were normal, and congratulated her on “a remarkable dance.”

“I can see that you are well qualified for our chorus, Tumpy,” he said, and on his lips, the name sounded like a little child’s.

“You have real talent, and spark, besides. How did you learn to do that at such a young age? You are—how old?”

“Fifteen,” she said.

Mr. Sissle snorted, and cut Wilsie a look. “Wasting my time,” he said. Mr. Blake looked at her as if she’d just wandered in from the orphanage.

“I’m very sorry, there’s been a mix-up,” he said. “You must be sixteen to dance professionally in New York State.”

“I’ll be sixteen in June,” Josephine said. Her voice sounded plaintive and faraway.

“We need someone now.” Mr. Sissle folded his arms as if she were underage on purpose. Mr. Blake led her toward the stage door, an apologetic Wilsie saying she hadn’t known. Mr. Sissle followed, talking to Mr. Blake about adding some steps to “I’m Just Wild about Harry,” saying they should put in some kicks, that he’d been thinking about it for a while. Uh-huh.

“Come and see us in New York after your birthday, doll,” Mr. Blake said. “You never know when we might have an opening.” He opened the door and let the rain pour in before shutting it again. He looked at Josephine’s thin, optimistic dress. Where was her umbrella? She hung her head. He stepped over to retrieve a black umbrella propped against the wall and handed it to her. She took it without even knowing, her thoughts colliding like too many birds in a cage. She would have to stay in Philadelphia, she had failed—too young, too dark, too ugly—she should have lied about her age, what had gotten into her? Showing off, that was what.

And now Mr. Sissle disliked her, and she would never get into their show; it didn’t matter how many times she went back. As she stepped out into the rain with that big umbrella in her hands unopened and felt the rain pour down her face; she was glad, for now they would think it was water instead of tears, but when she looked back, Wilsie was crying, too, in the open doorway.

Seeing the men watching from a window, she stopped. They wouldn’t forget her; she’d make them remember. She walked slowly, her silk dress dripping, while Mr. Sissle gesticulated with excitement as he stole her ideas—authentic Negro dancing were the last words she’d heard—and Mr. Blake looking as if he wanted to run out there, scoop her up, and carry her back inside.

( Continued… )

© 2018 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Sherry Jones. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

Review

I am not a history buff but I do enjoy learning about influential people in our past that made an impact on our world.  Josephine Baker is such a person from her civil rights activism to being a part of the French Resistance…this doesn’t even cover her dancing career which made quite a statement for the time period.  I will admit that I had heard her name but really didn’t know much about her life so I was glad to be able to read this book and glean a little insight into what made Josephine Baker tick and how she became the woman she was in our history.

Josephine had a tough childhood, one that no one should have to endure.  That being said, I think what she was exposed to made her a tough individual and shaped her as a young woman. She learned to look out for herself but that doesn’t mean that she knew what she was doing or what her best interests were at the time.  She was still a teenager when she moved to Paris and started dancing in various shows….nude at that!  Her immaturity was obvious but I wouldn’t have expected anything different.  She was still a babe in the woods with much to learn about life and who to trust or not trust.

This is a biography so while the story is well researched there is an element of fiction since some of the conversations are probably assumed or embellished to make for a more interesting read.  I think my favorite parts were the beginning and learning about her childhood (which will break your heart) and the last quarter of the book where we learn more about her role during WWII.  I enjoyed watching her mature as a young woman and perhaps realize that no one is to be trusted except yourself.  I did think that the middle half of the book seemed somewhat repetitive.  Granted it was her dancing career but it felt like Josephine was out of control (and she may have been) and was not looking out for her own best interests.

Overall I enjoyed the book and learning more about this iconic entertainer.  We give it 4 paws up.

About the Author

Author and journalist Sherry Jones is probably best known for her international bestseller The Jewel of Medina. She is also the author of The Sword of Medina, Four Sisters, All Queens, The Sharp Hook of Love, and the novella White Heart.  Sherry lives in Spokane, WA, where, like Josephine Baker, she enjoys dancing, singing, eating, advocating for equality, and drinking champagne.

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Title: Hide and Seek

Author: Mary Burton

Release Date: April 23, 2019

Publisher: Montlake Romance

Synopsis

Special Agent Macy Crow is a survivor. After a vicious hit-and-run nearly kills her, she gets right back to work, and now she’s gunning for a spot on the FBI’s elite profiling team. As an audition, she offers to investigate the recently discovered bones of Tobi Turner, a high school girl who disappeared fifteen years ago.

While investigating with local sheriff Mike Nevada, a former colleague and onetime lover, Macy discovers a link between Tobi’s case and several others that occurred around the same time as her disappearance. As Macy interviews victims and examines old cases, she uncovers a sinister picture of a stalker who graduated to sexual assault—and then murder.

Macy and Nevada race to put this monster behind bars before he can come out of hiding. But the murderer’s had years to hone his skills, and soon Macy herself becomes a target. She’s no stranger to pain and terror, but will Macy’s first profiling case be her last?

Profiling FBI Profiler Macy Crow

Special Agent Macy Crow is 33-years-old and is an accomplished FBI Agent. She’s worked a series of high profile cases across the United States and isn’t afraid to take chances. When her father was murdered, she headed to Texas to investigate the crime. Following clues left behind by her father, she was closing in on the killer when she became the victim of a hit and run accident.

Most would have died from the injuries Macy sustained or would have been permanently disabled. However, Macy channeled her extreme ability to focus into her recovery. Though her fit muscles have softened during her recovery, she is regaining strength each day and is now laser-focused on returning to the FBI as a field agent. Before her accident, she had shoulder length blond hair but the brain surgeons who saved her life cut off all her hair. She now proudly sports a pixie cut.

When Macy returned to Texas, she learned a startling fact about herself. She has an identical twin—medical examiner Dr. Faith McIntyre. Though adopted by different families, the sisters already have a strong connection.

Macy’s adoptive parents split when she was two and she moved from Texas to Alexandria, Virginia located outside of Washington, D.C. Over the years she remained close with her father and spent many summers with him helping repair old cars on his auto salvage lot. In Alexandria, she and her mother lived in a large apartment complex. When she was young, a neighborhood girl was murdered. That tragedy had a very profound affect on Macy, who discovered she wasn’t afraid of the police and FBI agents swarming the apartment complex. Instead, she was fascinated by their work and not only watched law enforcement in action but also walked the actual crime scene herself in search of clues.

Macy has never been married and has no children. For a long time, she considered herself married to her job and it wasn’t until she met FBI Special Agent Mike Nevada that she reconsidered her single status. However, her accident cut short their romance. Nevada is now the sheriff in a small Virginia town in the Shenandoah Valley. He understands Macy’s need to reclaim the FBI job she has always loved so much. In the last year, he has never forgotten her and is committed to helping regain her old life. When the two are paired on a cold case murder investigation in Nevada’s district, they become an unstoppable team.

Excerpt: Hide and Seek by Mary Burton

Vivid blue sky, white clouds, and golden fall leaves blanketed the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountains and created a picture-perfect day in the valley. In Macy’s book, the beauty was wasted. If she had God’s ear, today would have been cold, overcast, and damp. Save the pretty days until she caught this killer.

As she drove south down I-81, Macy mentally replayed her ten minutes of regional research. In the last couple of decades, the Shenandoah Valley’s population had ballooned thanks to a growing university, its proximity to Washington, DC, and a thriving tourism trade peddling vineyards, Civil War battlefields, and railroad museums. Filling in the economic gaps were warehouse distribution centers, chain hotels, and strip malls.

The voice of Macy’s GPS cut through AC/DC’s Back in Black blasting from her playlist and instructed her to take the upcoming exit toward Deep Run. As she rolled onto Route 250, a sign for her go-to fast-food eatery gave her an excuse to stretch her legs before driving the remaining ten miles to the crime scene.

Parking, she gingerly rose up out of the car. Her leg hurt. Stretches weren’t optional any more. She grabbed her ankle and pulled until the bunched muscles in her thigh released. After a quick walk around the lot, she made a beeline for the restaurant bathroom.

She glanced into the mirror as she washed her hands. Even after five months, she still didn’t recognize the woman with the short hair and thin face.

Nevada was in for a rude awakening.

She wiped her face with a paper towel. “Macy Crow, you’re above ground and headed in the right direction. That’s what counts.”

At the counter, she ordered a supersize bucket of fries and a large soda. It wasn’t that she loved the food—okay, maybe she did love the fries—but the chain restaurant’s predictability and sameness was comforting after so many life changes.

A few fries later, she was in her car and backing out of her space when her phone rang. Nevada’s number appeared. She cleared her throat and sat a little taller.

“Agent Macy Crow,” she said.

“Ramsey tells me you’re on your way. Where are you?”

He was direct, rarely charming, and she always knew where she stood with him. “Fifteen minutes from the barn.”

“I’m here now.”

The transition back into a working relationship appeared effortless. Whatever they had was over and done. No hard feelings.

“See you soon,” she said.

En route on the interstate, she ate her fries and drained her soda. There were no guarantees on when the next meal would be.

The last few miles took her down smaller roads until she spotted the driveway marked by stacked stones. Gravel crunched under her tires as she passed a freshly cleared field. Over the rise of a hill, she saw the old barn encircled by yellow crime scene tape.

When she had been researching the area, slogans such as “Best Quality of Life” and “Raise Your Family in Deep Run” popped up on her computer screen. As she had read about the area, she had kept glancing toward her open case file filled with images of Tobi Turner’s scattered bones. Recent pictures had captured the barn surrounded by dozens of state and local law enforcement vehicles crammed side by side in the grassy field.

Now as Macy parked, she noted that all the vehicles were gone expect for a lone black SUV. She grabbed her Glock from the glove box, holstered it, and stepped out of her car. Her worn hiking boots sloshed in the damp muddy soil. She tugged on an FBI windbreaker and draped her FBI credentials around her neck. As a stiff breeze blew a lingering chill and autumn scents, she checked her pockets for latex gloves, sunglasses, a small pocketknife, and pendant light.

Edginess and excitement fused as she strode toward the stretch of yellow tape and searched for Nevada. She ducked under the tape and stepped inside the barn.

 

About the Author

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

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Tangled Up in You

By Samantha Chase

Publication Date: 4/30/2019

Synopsis

They’ll change each other’s fate…

One fateful night Bobby Hannigan sustains a gunshot wound that could end his career as a police officer. If that’s taken from him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. The only ray of hope is Teagan Shaughnessy—a kindhearted single mom who understands his struggles…

Teagan and her young son have just moved back to the Carolina coast to be near family. When she meets Bobby, the timing feels wrong, but everything else feels oh-so-right. Bobby and Teagan each had plans for their own futures. But they’re finding that those plans are meaningless if they can’t be together…

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The Shaughnessy Brothers series

Made for Us (Book 1)

Love Walks In (Book 2)

Always My Girl (Book 3)

This Is Our Song (Book 4)

A Sky Full of Stars (Book 5)

Holiday Spice (Book 6)

Praise for Samantha Chase

“I dare you to stop reading until the end.”—RACHEL VAN DYKEN, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author for One More Moment

“Chase just gets better and better.”—Booklist

Excerpt

He was only five feet from the door when Teagan stepped in front of him. Bobby stopped short so he wouldn’t slam into her.

“Oh no. You are not doing this again.”

“Excuse me?”

With her arms crossed over her chest, she nodded. “This running away crap? I’m done with that.”

He still wasn’t sure he understood what she was getting at, and she must have figured that out.

“First time we met? You walked away after a plate almost slipped out of your hands.”

“Teagan…”

“Then you pretty much sprinted out of here last week after you hurt your shoulder.”

“I had ice cream first.”

She gave him a sour look. “And you didn’t come back like you said you would.” She stepped in close to him. “I prefer it when people honor their word.”

Now he was getting a little annoyed.

“I think if Anna hadn’t asked you to come today, I’d probably never have seen you again. I mean, sure, maybe at some Shaughnessy family event years from now, but other than that, you would have done whatever you could to avoid me. Except thanks to Anna, you did come back, and you’ve played with Lucas and by now he’s got some sort of hero-worship thing going on with you. So if you think I’m going to just let you pull another disappearing act, you’re crazy!”

She was doing her best to keep her voice down, but there was no mistaking how angry she was. Now what was he supposed to do? Or say?

Teagan must have taken his silence for something else because she let out a huff of annoyance and stepped aside, motioning toward the door. “Fine. Whatever. Just go.”

He heard her annoyance, but he saw her disappointment. And that got to him more than anything else.

Instead of walking out the door, he advanced on her. Her eyes went wide and she took a step back, even as he took another toward her.

“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “I did want to see you again. Since the day we met, I’ve wanted to see you again. Even after I stormed off like a jackass, all I could think about was how good it would be to see you again.”

Teagan took two steps back and hit the wall. Bobby moved in until they were toe-to-toe. “I don’t like asking anyone for help or needing help, but the fact that I kept embarrassing myself in front of you? It was almost more than I could stand.”

“Bobby, you had nothing to be embarrassed about. I totally understand what you’re dealing with,” she argued.

But he shook his head. “You don’t. You can’t,” he countered. “I’m just a man, Teagan, and I can’t help but have a little pride. I don’t like looking weak. I don’t like being weak. If we had met at any other time—”

“But we didn’t,” she whispered.

Yeah, it was crazy to wish for something he couldn’t have. In a perfect world, he wouldn’t have gotten shot. In a perfect world, he would have been confident enough to ask her out. And in a perfect world, he’d have every right to close the distance between them and kiss her.

She swallowed hard, her big blue eyes never blinking, and watched him as if waiting for…something.

“What is it you want from me, Teagan? You want me to apologize for walking away? For not coming back? What? Tell me what it is you’d like me to do.”

He hoped and prayed she wanted the same thing he did.

“I want you to stop running. You have nothing to fear from me,” she said, brutal in her frankness. “I don’t care that you’re still recovering. I don’t care that you may need help from time to time. But I expect honesty from my friends, Bobby. Always.”

Friends.

The kiss of death.

Dammit.

So many retorts were on the tip of his tongue, yet he couldn’t speak. Friends? So the attraction he’d been feeling was all one-sided? For a man who never had to put much effort into getting a woman, this was like being hit in the face with the ball all over again.

“Friends,” he finally said.

She nodded. “It’s all I can offer you.” Apparently, he was that transparent. “My main priority is Lucas, and I’m not looking to get involved with anyone. Especially someone who…” She paused and looked down at the floor.

“Someone who what?” he prompted, feeling more than a little annoyed now.

After a moment, she looked back up at him. “Someone with a history of being a serial dater,” she said defiantly. “If I were single, no kids, it would be one thing, but I have my son to worry about. I don’t get involved in casual relationships. I can’t. As it is, I was scared even to let you come and watch him today, because other than my dad, Lucas hasn’t had any other male role models. Now that I see how quickly he bonded with you, I regret my selfishness.”

“How the hell were you selfish?”

“I was desperate to have a day to myself!” she cried. “To get my nails done and my hair cut and do all the things I haven’t had the time to do in forever. And now I’m going to be hearing all about you for who knows how long!”

Now he was thoroughly confused.

“So now I’m not good enough even to have around as a friend?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Bobby. I’m saying…I don’t want to confuse Lucas. I don’t want him getting attached to someone who has no interest in sticking around.”

Again the questions about Lucas’s father came to mind, but he was too wrapped up in all the ways Teagan was insulting him right now to ask.

He leaned in close. “You don’t know anything about me.” He meant to sound menacing, and he felt like he pulled it off.

“I know enough. People talk,” she replied confidently.

“People? What people?”

“Quinn,” she said with a smug smile. “He told me all about you.”

If he thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. How dare his brother-in-law say anything derogatory about him! That crap was supposed to be all ancient history.

“You know my history with your cousin,” he countered. “Of course he was going to talk trash about me. And why would you even ask him? Why not just come to me if you wanted to know something?”

“Because you were usually walking away. When was I supposed to ask you anything?”

Okay. She had a point. But still…

This wasn’t getting them anywhere. He wasn’t doing himself any favors with the way he was acting right now, and thanks to Quinn, she already had a bad opinion of him, one that he would have to fight. Stepping away from her, he raked a hand through his hair and let out a weary sigh. Maybe it was time to just let this go. His life was total crap right now, and she wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone, so why was he fighting this?

When he faced her again, he had his answer.

Because she was beautiful.

Because she challenged him.

Because she had the potential to break his heart.

In a perfect world, all the obstacles would be removed. But this wasn’t a perfect world and he was an imperfect man. And because he had nothing left to lose, he leaned in and kissed her.

 

About the Author

Samantha Chase, a creative writing teacher, released her debut novel, Jordan’s Return, in November 2011. Since then, she has published seventeen more titles and has become a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She lives with her husband of twenty-four years and their two sons in North Carolina.

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Logan’s Lady

By: Rosanne Bittner

Publication Date: 3/26/2019

Synopsis

Two worlds in conflict

Two hearts intertwined

One love worth fighting for

Wealthy Englishwoman Lady Elizabeth Baylor longs for adventure. She leaves for America full of hope, only to lose everything to a villain hiding treachery behind his smile. Lost in this strange and lawless land, Elizabeth vows to track down the man who did her wrong…but she can’t do it alone. What she needs is someone hardened by the west and unflinching toward its dangers: notorious bounty hunter Logan Best.

Ill-mannered and seemingly ruthless, Logan exorcises his dark past by throwing himself into his vengeful profession—hunting wanted men. There’s nothing about the pampered Englishwoman that should call to him, and yet as their adventure takes them across the wild and treacherous west, he realizes he’ll do anything to keep her safe…and defend his Lady to his final breath.

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Excerpt

May 29, 1870

Logan strolled into Sheriff Adam White’s office in Abilene and handed him a letter. White looked up at him and frowned. “You again?”

“Yup.” Logan noticed the man had a few crumbs in his long, black beard, probably from breakfast. “I already checked at Rinker’s saloon, and he’s out of town again, so I’m bringing you proof that I found the man Rinker was looking for. Rosell still had over three thousand dollars on him.” Logan handed out a leather satchel. “The money is in here. That letter is from a Mr. Clive Macy and a few citizens of Mirage, Colorado, saying I brought them Mr. Ben Rosell. The town promptly hanged the man for kidnapping and raping Clive Macy’s thirteen-year-old daughter.”

White looked into the leather satchel, then back up at Logan. “You actually found the man? He had a good three-week start on you.”

“He was easy to track. He was a braggart, and every place he stopped people remembered him. He also spent a few days at each stop along the way to Denver—liked to show off. That slowed him down.”

White shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

“I want you to give all that money to Mr. Rinker and tell him I’ll be back to collect my bounty. Right now, I’m in kind of a hurry because  I intend to find the man behind Rosell. His name is Robert Alexander. Have you—”

“Alexander?” White interrupted, speaking the name as though in shock.

It was then Logan heard an odd whimper from a jail cell behind the wall where the sheriff sat. White got to his feet.

“Logan, you have no idea—”

“Do you have a woman back there?” Logan interrupted.

“Well…yes. That’s what I started to tell you. We didn’t quite know what to do with her. She just rambles crazy when she talks.” White leaned in closer and dropped his voice. “Logan, she shot a man on the Kansas Pacific. Bloodiest mess you ever saw! She claimed he attacked her, but heck, they were traveling alone together, so I don’t know what to believe. We found the mess just this morning on their Pullman car when the train came in. The man’s identification says his name is Robert Alexander.”

Logan stepped back. “What?”

“Yes. And he was layin’ in a sleeper car buck naked and covered in blood. There were dresses all over the bed in the back bedchamber, and they were covered in blood, too. We found a small pistol laying on the floor, and the woman—she’s a young thing—she was just sitting in a chair in the parlor area wearing a nightgown and covered in blood—her clothes, her face, her hands—it was the most god-awful mess I ever saw. We’ve been trying to decide what to—”

Logan left him and hurried around the corner, and there in the jail cell sat what he thought might be a very beautiful woman with blond hair. He couldn’t be sure because she was covered in so much blood. Even her hair was stuck together in places from dried blood. His rage knew no bounds. After what Rosell had told him about Robert Alexander, he could just imagine what this woman had been through. He turned to Sheriff White when the man followed him to the cell. “Why in hell is this poor woman sitting in there unwashed and unattended! Can’t you see she’s been through something awful?”

“We just weren’t sure what to do with her—what to believe. She could be a murderess.”

“Murderess! Hell!” Logan roared the words so loudly the sheriff stepped back defensively. “I know all about this Robert Alexander, and I can tell you if she shot him he damn well deserved it! Get that woman out   of there.”

Sheriff White shrugged. “What the hell are we supposed to do with her? She doesn’t talk any sense.” “Look at her! She’s shaking from shock. And she’s probably scared as a baby rabbit. I guarantee Alexander brought her out here under false pretenses, and then he took her for every dime she has and was going to sell her to a whorehouse. Get her out of there. There are more men behind this, and I need to know what she knows and what Alexander took from her.”

“You sure—”

“Get her out of there!” Logan raged.

White ran for the keys. Logan’s shouted words made the woman look up. Her eyes widened, and she quickly curled up onto the cot where she sat and shook even harder.

“It’s all right,” Logan told her. “I’m going to get you some help.”

She just kept staring at him as White returned with the keys and opened the cell door. Logan stepped inside.

The woman shook her head. “Don’t let him touch me!” she screamed at the sheriff. “He’s here to take me away to someplace awful!”

They were the first coherent words she’d spoken since Sheriff White had pulled her off the Pullman car. Logan stepped closer. “Ma’am, I’m not going to—” “His name is Chad!” she screamed at the sheriff. “He’s here to pick me up and take me away. He rides with a lot of bad men! Robert told me about him!” “Ma’am, this man isn’t called Chad,” the sheriff tried to assure her. “This is Logan Best. He’s a bounty hunter, and he was after that man you killed. He wants to help you. His word is good, so we won’t hold you any longer. Logan claims Alexander was a swindler of some kind.”

“Don’t believe him! He’s Chad Krieger, and he’s going to take me someplace where I’ll never be found again. Look at him! He’s filthy and wears guns and— he looks like an outlaw! Don’t let him take me!”

White stepped closer and leaned down to look into the woman’s eyes. “Ma’am, I assure you, this man isn’t Chad Krieger. He’s a bounty hunter. He hunts down men like Chad Krieger. His name is Logan Best, and he wants to get you some help. You’ll be safe with him.”

The woman buried her face in her bloody hands and wept.

Logan turned to White. “Where is the closest doctor’s office?”

“Couple of doors down. Doc Billings. This is the best time to catch him sober. It’s still early. The man is pretty useless by eight o’clock or so at night.”

“I’ll carry her. You lead the way.”

“Sure.” White stepped back, and Logan walked closer to the woman. She shrank back again. Logan knelt in front of her.

“I’m not that man called Chad,” he assured her again. “My name is Logan Best, and I was here in Abilene to collect bounty on a man called Ben Rosell. You ever hear that name?”

She shook her head.

Logan looked her straight in the eyes and hesitantly reached out to touch her arm. She didn’t pull away. “Let me help you. What’s your name?”

She watched his eyes, and her shaking stopped. “Elizabeth Baylor.”

“Let me guess. Are you British? I mean, your accent tells me you are, but I need to know for sure.”

Elizabeth nodded.

“And this man called Sir Robert Alexander duped you into trusting him—offered to bring you west and then managed to steal your money and turn on you. Right? He was taking you to someone. He was going to leave you with the man called Chad.”

Elizabeth swallowed. “How—do you know all that?”

“It’s a long story. But I’m not this man you call Chad Krieger. I’m hunting for Krieger.”

Elizabeth broke into tears. “I’m alone out here. I don’t know what to do. I killed him! I killed Robert!” “And I’m betting it was for a damn good reason,”

Logan told her. “We need to talk, Miss Baylor. Is it Miss?”

Elizabeth wiped at her tears, smearing the blood on her face. “Lady,” she answered, showing a spark of pride. “I am Lady Elizabeth Baylor…from London.” She cried even harder. “I loved him! I was going to marry him! Why did he…do this?”

“Because he’s a swindling sonofabitch,” Logan answered. He rose. “Come on. Let me get you to a doctor.” He looked at White. “Where are her things? She needs to wash up and get dressed. For God’s sake, how could you leave her in this condition, and in a jail cell to boot?”

“We were going to have a meeting soon to discuss what to do with her.”

“Common sense should have told you this woman didn’t do anything wrong. Look at her! She’s been abused, and she was probably just defending herself. If you weren’t a lawman, I’d land a fist into your face. Where are her things?”

“They’re still down at the depot.”

“Then have somebody go get them and bring them to the doctor’s office.” Logan reached out for Elizabeth. “Can you walk?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her breasts as though she thought Logan might be able to see through her gown. “I don’t want people out there to see me. And…I’m barefoot.”

Logan grasped her arms and pulled her up. He noticed she winced.

“Are your arms bruised?” he asked. Elizabeth nodded.

Logan reached down and yanked a wool blanket off the cot. He wrapped it around her shoulders, covering her completely before lifting her into his arms. He thought how small and light she was. Her situation reminded him of what had happened to MaryAnne. He’d killed every last one of the men who’d hurt her before coming out here to hunt down every damn wanted man he could find.

“Let’s get her to a doctor,” he told the sheriff. White obliged, heading out the front door.

A few people gathered to watch Logan Best carry the strange, bloody woman who’d killed a man to the doctor’s office.

Elizabeth curled against him, her head on his shoulder. At least he could get help for this woman. He’d never had the chance to help MaryAnne.

About the Author

 

USA Today bestseller and award-winning novelist Rosanne Bittner is known as the “Queen of Western Historical Romance” for her thrilling love stories and historical authenticity. Her epic romances span the West—and are often based on Rosanne’s personal visits to each setting. She lives in Coloma, Michigan, with her husband and two sons.

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Giveaway

3 copies of Logan’s Lady

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A Lord Apart

By: Jane Ashford

Publication Date: 3/26/2019

Synopsis

Family secrets, an unlikely alliance—and a love neither expected…

After his parents’ sudden death, Daniel Frith, Viscount Whitfield, is struggling to unravel a web of chaotic family records. He is astonished to learn his father’s will contains a mysterious legacy: a house left to a complete stranger. He knows nothing about the beautiful Penelope Pendleton and he’s not sure he wants to…until she turns out to be a whiz at all those nasty tasks involved in estate administration…

Penelope has no idea why Rose Cottage was left to her. But it’s a godsend after her brother’s reckless actions disgraced her family. She had planned to stay out of Viscount Whitfield’s way, not grow ever closer to him. But when they discover how entwined their families really are, Daniel and Penelope must collaborate to avoid a scandal that reaches much higher than they could have guessed…

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The Way to a Lord’s Heart series

Brave New Earl (Book 1)
A Lord Apart (Book 2)

Praise for Jane Ashford:

“An endearing, optimistic story of second chances.”—Publishers Weekly for Brave New Earl

“A refreshingly different, sweetly romantic love story [readers] will long remember.”—Booklist for Brave New Earl

“[P]lenty of wit, matchmaking, sweetness, and sensuality to keep readers highly entertained.”—RT Book Reviews for The Duke Knows Best

“Expertly crafted…another triumph of nuanced characterization and sparkling wit.”—Booklist for Nothing Like a Duke

Excerpt

“Miss Pendleton might be interested in your estate records,” said Macklin.

Daniel frowned at him. He didn’t want to show her that jumble. She’d think it a shambles. And she would be right.

“Oh, do you have anything about Rose Cottage?” she replied.

“Whitfield’s been searching, but he hasn’t found anything yet,” said the earl.

“Perhaps I could help. I used to manage—” She stopped abruptly, her cheeks reddening.

“Ah,” came to the tip of Daniel’s tongue. But he managed not to say it. She used to manage what? He couldn’t resist trying to find out. “Come and see,” he said. With a bow, he escorted her along a corridor to the estate office. Only when they reached it did he notice that Macklin hadn’t followed. Fleetingly, he wondered if the older man was up to something. But Miss Pendleton’s exclamation of “Oh my,” chased the idea from his mind.

Inside the office, his visitor was standing still, surveying the masses of papers. “I’m not sure I understand your method of organization,” she said.

Because there wasn’t any, Daniel thought. As anyone could see. She didn’t need to make a point of it. “Our agent left some months ago,” he said.

Miss Pendleton walked over to the desk. She eyed the stacks of documents with an odd expression. She looked…avid? At once, Daniel dismissed this inadequate word. She looked like a drunkard gazing at a foaming pint. She looked like a sheepdog vibrating with the need to herd. Her fingers flexed. She wanted to plunge her hands into his papers, he realized. She wanted to wrest information from their pages like a falcon tearing into a mouse. Why had he ever thought her wan and sylphlike? “Perhaps you could help me look through things,” he said.

She turned to him. Daniel was shaken by the flare of excitement in her blue eyes. How had he missed the fierce spirit inhabiting that slender body? And what might a man do to have that look directed at him? “There must be information about Rose Cottage here somewhere,” she said. Her fingers twitched again.

It took him a moment to find his voice. “We might look for it together.” From the way her gaze raked him, Daniel felt as if he’d suggested a far more intimate activity. Suddenly his piles of papers seemed less of a burden. “I would appreciate your assistance,” he added. “You seem as if you might know your way about a records room.”

“I do.” Two murmured words, yet full of longing and melancholy.

The quick rise and fall of her breath under the bodice of her gown was very distracting. Had she agreed or not? Her eyes burned. Daniel wanted to know what lay behind them. Would joy bloom there as fiercely as this present emotion? She stood very still, her fists closed at her sides. The work of sorting would be an altogether different matter with her at his side. “Our two families must have some connection,” he said. “Or communication between them, at least. How else to explain the legacy?”

Miss Pendleton looked away, and he cursed himself for mentioning families. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about hers.

She muttered something. It might have been, “They’ll find out anyway.” If that had made any sense.

“I beg your pardon?” said Daniel.

When she turned back to him, the fire had disappeared from her blue eyes. They’d gone bleak. “Haven’t you made inquiries about me?”

He could see she hated the idea, and he wished he could deny it. Excuses crowded his mind, but none seemed persuasive in this moment, when his chief desire was to lure that fierce, vivid woman back into the light. He started to say that they’d heard nothing as yet. But she spoke again before he could.

“Lord Macklin looks like the sort of man who can find out whatever he wants. And do whatever he wants. So do you for that matter. Peers of the realm.” She spoke the last phrase with great bitterness.

Daniel felt as if he was groping his way through a pitch-black landscape. “Macklin knows a great many people,” he admitted.

“I’m sure he does. I suppose he’s a great friend of Lord Sidmouth.”

“The Home Secretary?” Where had that venom come from? And what did a government minister have to do with anything? Daniel looked for something to say, anything that might end the struggle racking her. But nothing occurred to him. Perhaps because her cheeks had flushed, and her chest continued to rise and fall in a way that compelled his attention. He had to keep tearing his gaze away.

Miss Pendleton’s breath sighed out. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, what difference does it make?” Her tone was angry and impatient. “It’s only a matter of time until you find out. I don’t know why I thought I could keep secrets.”

About the Author

Jane Ashford discovered Georgette Heyer in junior high school and was captivated by the glittering world and witty language of Regency England. That delight was part of what led her to study English literature and travel widely in Britain and Europe. She has written historical and contemporary romances, and her books have been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Spain, as well as the United States. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews. She lives in Beverly Hills, CA.

 

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Giveaway

The Happily Ever Organized Gift Set giveaway is live now and runs through 11:59 p.m. on April 20th. This super cute gift set includes a pack of Bloom floral file folders, three pretty gold pens, a Lemome Original notebook (it has pockets!), and two lovely floral teacups. What better prize to honor the two loveable nerds in this Regency Romance?!

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In Her Sights

By Katie Ruggle

Publication Date: 3/26/2019

“Vivid and charming.”—CHARLAINE HARRIS, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series

Synopsis

Five bounty-hunting sisters

Deep in the heart of the Rockies

Fighting to save each other

…and the men who steal their hearts

Bounty hunter Molly Pax fought hard for everything she has, turning the bail recovery business she shares with her sisters into an unqualified success. So when their sticky-fingered mother jumps bail and puts the childhood home up as collateral, Molly’s horrified. To make matters worse, every two-bit criminal in the Rockies now sees her family’s misfortune as their next big break.

She needs help, stat.

Enter rival bounty hunter John Carmondy: six feet of pure trouble, with a cocky grin to match. John’s the most cheerfully, annoyingly gorgeous frenemy Molly’s ever had the pleasure of defeating…and he may be her only hope of making it out of this mess alive.

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Praise

“I love Ruggle’s characters. They’re sharply drawn, and vividly alive. I’m happy when they find each other. These are wonderful escapist books.”—CHARLAINE HARRIS, #1 New York Times Bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series

“Sexy and suspenseful, I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough.”—JULIE ANN WALKER, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author for Hold Your Breath

“Chills and thrills and a sexy slow-burning romance from a terrific new voice.”—D.D. AYRES, author of the K-9 Rescue Series for Hold Your Breath

Excerpt

The chilly air brushed against her damp face, making her realize how warm the bar was. She peered down the dim alley, checking both directions. Except for the dumpster that she’d warned John about, the narrow lane was empty. Frustration rose in her chest, squeezing her lungs. Sonny’d had too much time to get away. The crowd had succeeded in giving him enough of a head start to escape. Without a direction, Molly knew they had no hope of finding him.

John made an irritated sound, and Molly turned to meet his gaze. “I know. It sucks. At least we know he hasn’t left town…yet. Should we go back and see what we can pry out of the zombies? Someone has to know where he’s been crashing.”

He looked unhappy about this idea. “That’s a pretty hostile bunch. You shouldn’t go back in there.”

Although a big part of her bristled at the implication that she couldn’t take care of herself, an even bigger part was relieved. She didn’t want to question the bar patrons, and John was giving her an out. She’d be an idiot to insist on endangering them for a slight chance that someone in the crowd was willing to talk.

Letting out a disappointed huff of air, she stepped into the alley. When John didn’t immediately follow, she turned to raise a questioning eyebrow. “You weren’t planning on staying, were you?” Her stomach churned with concern at the thought of him alone in Dutch’s. Sure, he was a strong guy, but even he couldn’t fight off dozens of people if they meant him harm. Who knew how many were armed, too. The bouncer hadn’t checked the two of them for weapons, and they weren’t even regulars.

“No.” John finally followed her out, and she released the door so it swung shut behind him. “I was just surprised you didn’t insist on staying.”

She shrugged, not wanting to admit that she’d considered it out of foolish pride, even though it had just been for a moment or two. “I have a greater sense of self-preservation than that.”

“I…” Whatever he had been about to say was lost when his voice trailed off, his eyes locked on the back of a neighboring building. Molly followed his gaze to a door that was cracked open just an inch or two. Turning her head, she exchanged a speaking look with John, and they both moved quietly toward the barely open door.

“You armed?” he asked so quietly that she could barely hear him.

“Depends how you define arms.” Slipping her Taser from her pants pocket, she held it at her side. “You?”

“No gun.” His gaze stayed fixed on the dark gap between the door and the frame as they moved closer to the building. “I do have arms, though.”

She was pretty sure he flexed, although her attention, like his, was focused on the slightly open door. A touch of amusement ran through her, but it was quickly swallowed by apprehension. Who knew what kind of danger hid in the shadows of the warehouse?

When they were just a few feet from the door, Molly reached her free hand toward the edge, intending to push it open, but there was suddenly a huge man in her way. With a glare at the broad back in front of her, blocking her way and even her view of the entry, she dodged around him, giving him a sharp elbow in the side. Even if he was just trying to be chivalrous, it was still a ridiculous thing to do.

Easing the door open, she took a cautious step inside, grateful for John’s watchful presence at her back. The murky ambient light illuminated the interior just enough to see shadows and forms. Dust and the lingering hint of old chemicals prickled her nose. Before she could take a second step, a darting movement caught her attention. Molly sucked in a startled breath and spun to face the threat, her entire focus was on who—or what—was in the dark space with them. Before she could race after whoever it was, the world behind them lit up, whiting out her vision. She didn’t have time to think or plan or even duck before a ferocious boom sounded, so loud that she felt it through her entire body.

John! her brain screamed, even as she knew it was too late to help him. The explosion had already sent her flying forward, weightless, from the force of the blast.

About the Author

When she’s not writing, KATIE RUGGLE rides horses, shoots guns, and travels to warm places where she can SCUBA dive. Graduating from the Police Academy, Katie received her ice-rescue certification and can attest that the reservoirs in the Colorado Mountains really are that cold. While she still misses her off-the-grid, solar- and wind-powered house in the Rocky Mountains, she now lives in Rochester, Minnesota near her family.

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Giveaway 1 (prize package, runs through 11:59 p.m. 3/26)

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Giveaway 2 (books giveaway, runs through 4/12)

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Title: Risky Play

Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Release Date: March 19, 2019

Publisher: Skyscape

Series: Red Card, Book 1

Synopsis

What else can a virgin do when she’s ditched at the altar? Seattle heiress Mackenzie Dupont is treating herself to a single-girl honeymoon in Mexico and a desire to relinquish her innocence to a gorgeous one-night stand. Fake names. True pleasure. But when she wakes up alone, Mackenzie realizes just how much anger is left in her broken heart.

Suffering a tragic personal loss, pro soccer player Slade Rodriguez has his reasons for vanishing without a goodbye. Right or wrong, he’s blaming the beautiful and infuriating stranger he never wants to see again. They’re both in for a shock when Mackenzie shows up as his new personal assistant. And they both have a lot to learn about each other. Because they share more than they could possibly know, including a common enemy who’s playing his own games. And he’s not afraid to get dirty.

Now there’s only one way Mackenzie and Slade can win: to trust in each other and to stop hiding from the lies they’ve told, the secrets they’ve kept, the mistakes they’ve made, and the attraction that still burns between them.

Why Sports Heroes Make the Best Book Boyfriends by Rachel Van Dyken

Hey everyone! I’m Rachel Van Dyken, author of over eighty (holy crap) books in multiple genres, one of my favorites being, sports romance! My latest book, Risky Play, is about two broken main characters who find themselves on a last minute holiday to Puerto Vallarta.

Pro Soccer player Slade Rodriguez is trying to lay low after finding out his girlfriend and his ex teammate hooked up behind his back, for over a year. Licking his wounds he changes teams and moves to Seattle, but isn’t ready to settle down yet. Needing time to himself, he gets on the first jet out. He sits next to Mackenzie Dupont on a plane and is immediately intrigued, especially since a few hours into the plane ride, they have single engine failure. She asks him what one thing he would do different. And they kiss. Once the plane safely lands, to protect his own identity, he gives her a fake name, Hugo. What he doesn’t realize is she’s famous in her own right, so she does the same thing. After all, she’s running away from a broken engagement. What follows is a whole lot of steaminess and taking chances with a complete stranger assuming that it’s just that, a one night stand, a two night stand. Whatever it is, Mackenzie’s obsessed with “Hugo’s” intense golden gaze, the eight pack helps, and the fact that he seems genuinely interested in everything she says. He promises the universe he’s going to keep her, but sometimes the universe is against us. Tragedy strikes and they go their separate ways only to meet again in Seattle, this time, sparks fly and not the good kind The “I want to kiss you, then strangle you, then kiss you again” kind.

I love writing sports romances because I think it adds this extra layer of pressure from the press to act a certain way. Not only does Slade have to deal with paparazzi but he has pressure to perform, to lead his team to the championships after training with another team. I think it brings in so many details from behind the scenes that we never think about when watching sports on TV. I’m fully dedicated to interviewing real athletes (and my last sports romance I interviewed NFL players). This time I wanted to focus on a sport that isn’t as huge here as it is internationally and really do it justice. These athletes eat, sleep, and breathe their sport, there isn’t a lot of time for a personal life and if you do have one, the balance is always going to be a struggle (not to mention the fact that Slade is still mourning). In this book, I wanted to introduce a really strong female character that wouldn’t let Slade project all those feelings and basically Mackenzie is the type of girl that doesn’t put up with his crap. I think it’s important to have strong female characters that women can look up to. I love that during the entire journey my heroine doesn’t give up. She knows her worth and demands that Slade recognize it too.

All in all it was such a fun book to write, I can’t wait for everyone to read it!

***

Excerpt: Risky Play by Rachel Van Dyken

I was kissing her again.

Maybe it was because it had been months since I’d had a decent kiss, since I’d jumped into the arms of anyone who didn’t know me by name.

I could be Hugo for a few days.

Hugo seemed spontaneous.

Hugo seemed relaxed.

Hugo seemed fun.

I sure as hell needed some fun.

I broke away from her kiss and trailed my fingertips down her chin. “So, now that we’ve established the plane didn’t crash and we’re here side by side, what did you have in mind?”

Ashley grinned up at me, her eyes a bit hesitant as she looked from me to the ocean. “Well, I’ve never gone cliff diving, I heard there’s a great place close by.”

My eyebrows shot up. “No offense, but you don’t seem like a thrill seeker.”

She laughed. I decided I liked the way her laugh relaxed me, made me respond with a smile and a need to kiss her again. “I’m not, trust me.” She sobered a bit. Her lips turned down.

I wanted nothing more than to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth just to see if it would it make it decide to smile in my direction again.

“But it would be fun, I need fun.”

I sighed heavily and looked at my feet. When the hell had I ever looked away like that? “That makes both of us.”

“Great!” She walked ahead of me into her penthouse suite, which matched mine even in color. I suddenly wondered what she did for a living. I mean I could afford it because I had been the highest paid soccer star in Europe for the last ten years.

The place was around three grand a day.

I eyed the large master suite as she ran around and then held up her hand. “One sec, I’m going to change into a suit, alright?”

“Great.” I smiled reassuringly. It would give me time to look around, not that I was stalking her, but I could never be too careful. I was still surprised she didn’t recognize me. And I knew when she did, this little facade, this freedom I felt in my chest, the easy way she let me breathe around her? It would go to hell, and I’d need another escape.

I thumbed through a few of the magazines on the table, and dropped the last one down just in time to hear the sliding bathroom door open and see a goddess emerge.

A one-piece swimsuit covered her body. It had a plunging neckline that showed off two generously sized breasts, and I immediately regretted not telling her who I was.

Because clothing tended to get pulled off, not put on, when I was in the room.

I eyed the scrap of material she called a swimsuit, my eyes raking over her muscular legs, her curvy body.

“Unless you’re jumping naked, you should change too,” she pointed out, then cleared her throat and looked away like she was insecure. Damn, the woman could make a man cut his own heart out for a taste of her special brand of sin.

I peeled my shirt off over my body and shrugged. “Ready.”

Her eyes went so wide I had to fight not to laugh.

I knew what she saw.

I had Instagram pages dedicated to my eyes alone, don’t even get me started on my abs.

Eight.

Tight, packed abs, all tanned and golden like I was the sun god himself.

“Uh, right.” Her cheeks brightened as she clasped her hands together. “Let’s go!”

I checked her out the entire time she walked ahead of me, and when she caught me staring I just shrugged and said, “Next time wear more clothes if you don’t want me to look.”

“You should talk,” she fired back.

“Misunderstanding.” I grinned. “I wanted you to look.”

She slapped a hand against my bare chest.

I laughed, and then grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips. “You ready to jump off a cliff with a stranger you’ve kissed twice?”

“Once,” she corrected with a whisper. “I kissed you, you kissed me, we’re even.”

The doors to the elevator opened as I whispered under my breath. “Not for long.”

About the Author

Rachel Van Dyken is a Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and #1 New York Times bestselling author known for Regency romances, contemporary romances, and her love of coffee and Swedish fish. Rachel’s also recently inked a deal for her Wingmen Inc. series—The Matchmaker’s Playbook and The Matchmaker’s Replacement—to be made into movies.

A fan of The Bachelor and the Seattle Seahawks (not necessarily in that order), Rachel lives in Idaho with her husband, a super cute toddler son who keeps her on her toes, and two boxers.

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Prussian Counterpoint: A Joseph Haydn Mystery
Cozy Mystery
3rd in Series
Publisher: Foiled Plots Press (March 1, 2019
Paperback: 270 pages

Synopsis

When an enemy makes overtures of friendship, is anyone safe?

An unexpected invitation from wily King Frederick causes composer Joseph Haydn to fear he’s walking into a trap. After all, the Prussian King has never had any use for Haydn’s music. His Majesty seems more intrigued at Haydn’s being the son of a market-judge.

Worse still, the invitation appears to stir up suspicion in the highest quarters in Vienna. So much so that a mysterious, cloaked lady visits Haydn’s Music Room and issues a thinly veiled threat.

Now Haydn is convinced there’s mischief afoot. But not even he can foresee that he will stumble upon the corpse of the imperial ambassador a day after his arrival in Frederick’s Prussia, along with evidence that His Lordship may have been a common thief.

Can Haydn salvage the imperial ambassador’s reputation—and find his killer?

Praise for the Joseph Haydn Mysteries

“A standout in the genre of historical mysteries. An encore is requested!”
Midwest Book Review

“Tustin occupies a unique niche in the historical mystery world.”
Edith Maxwell, Agatha-nominated Author, Quaker Midwife Mysteries

“Wonderful read for fans of historical cozy mysteries. . .The characters are strong and the writing is smooth. . .”
Books a Plenty Book Reviews

“An interesting journey and Haydn is a likable main character.”
Christa Reads and Writes

“Vivid historical descriptions, intricate details, and a fascinating central character kept me turning the pages. Bravo!”
Amanda Carmack, award-winning author of The Elizabethan Mystery Series

Special Feature

Introduction: I’ve longed admired Empress Maria Theresa, so when the opportunity to give her a larger story role presented itself, I naturally seized upon it. Prussia had in Frederick William’s time always considered itself an ally of Austria—a resentful ally, but an ally nevertheless. That changed in 1740 when Frederick William’s son, Frederick II, challenged Maria Theresa’s succession, reneging upon a promise Prussia had made to her father, Emperor Charles VI. She was only twenty-three at the time, a woman so cowed, Frederick believed, she would easily capitulate. Much to his surprise, she did not. She was heavily pregnant, her coffers drained, her advisors old and afraid, but she had no intention of giving in without a fight.

Maria Theresa never met Frederick the Great in person. Their encounter in Prussian Counterpoint is entirely imaginary.

Excerpt

“You had a pleasant journey, I hope, Your Majesty.” Frederick of Prussia bent his head graciously toward the Empress as he made the enquiry. His smile—benign, friendly—should have put her at ease. A long time ago, it had won her Francis over.

But there was nothing benign about the pale blue eyes that held hers in an unflinching stare.

“It was pleasant enough.” Her response was deliberately curt. She turned her gaze toward the dark, desolate streets of Potsdam. The steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves beat a relentless rhythm in her brain. Her chest heaved, feeling more constricted than usual.

A friendlier man would have allowed her the courtesy of resting a day after an arduous journey through wintry roads. Instead, the King had barged into Seckendorff’s courtyard, demanding her presence at a supper that her ambassador had clearly known nothing about.

Seckendorff’s eyes had visibly widened and he had started as violently as a gun-shy horse at the unexpected sound of the King’s voice.

“The entire court is so desirous to make Your Majesty’s acquaintance, I had not the heart to keep them waiting a moment longer. I trust Your Majesty is not put out at the inconvenience.”

The air in the carriage was close, suffocating. The Empress pursed her lips, determined not to give her host the satisfaction of knowing how she felt. As always, Frederick had taken her by surprise. There had barely been time for any of her retinue to change out of their travel garb.

“The men and women who accompany me are more inconvenienced than I am.” She turned to face her longtime adversary. “That is my only regret.”

Frederick inclined his head. “Your concern becomes you, Your Majesty. But this is a small affair. A gathering of a few likeminded individuals. No one need stand on ceremony.”

The carriage climbed up the hill and swept into a semi-circular court of honor flanked by Corinthian columns. Snow glistened on the boughs of the trees, but the cobblestones had been swept clean.

“Here we are, Your Majesty. Sanssouci, my private abode, where we may be without care.”

“I pray that we may indeed be that,” the Empress replied as she stepped out of the carriage. Not that prayers could achieve any such thing. Not until they were out of Potsdam, at any event. Nothing but constant vigilance could prevent them from being caught off guard again.

 

About the Author

A former journalist, Nupur Tustin relies upon a Ph.D. in Communication and an M.A. in English to orchestrate fictional mayhem.  The Haydn mysteries are a result of her life-long passion for classical music and its history. Childhood piano lessons and a 1903 Weber Upright share equal blame for her original compositions, available on ntustin.musicaneo.com.

Her writing includes work for Reuters and CNBC, short stories and freelance articles, and research published in peer-reviewed academic journals. She lives in Southern California with her husband, three rambunctious children, and a pit bull.

3 Free Stories* Website* Blog * Free Haydn Mystery at Taste of Murder

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Title: Faking Forever
Author: Catherine Bybee
Release Date: March 12, 2019
Publisher: Montlake Romance

Synopsis

Shannon Wentworth’s biological clock is ticking, and she isn’t going to let her single status keep her from having a baby. When her wedding-photography business takes her to Mexico, she has every intention of finding a willing baby daddy to help her out. Until the bride goes AWOL, leaving Shannon to coddle the arrogant fiancé who has accused her of sabotaging his wedding.

Victor Brooks never could have imagined that he’d be on a honeymoon for one. Only here he is, taking a hard look at his life after the younger women he thought he loved walked out. The woman who volunteers to help him reflect is the last person he expects to be attracted to. Between the tequila, the sun, and one earth-shattering kiss, Victor finds Shannon a distraction too sexy to ignore.

They strike a deal: wait three months, cool off, and see if their tropical beach attraction is worth taking up when they go back home. Unfortunately, that’s just enough time for the past to come calling. All their best-laid plans are at risk. So is the last thing Shannon expected to matter the most: her heart.

Excerpt

Victor noticed Shannon sitting in the open dining area of the hotel the next morning, drinking coffee and reading on her e-reader. He’d spent most of the previous day licking his metaphorical wounds and nursing a headache.

Dressed in cotton pants that went midcalf and a light shirt, she looked like she was dressed for a long plane ride home. As much a pain in the ass as the woman had been, he felt compelled to say goodbye. After all, he was the reason she was there.

He walked up quietly behind her. “If it isn’t woman who fed me mezcal.”

The sound of his voice made her jump.

Too bad she wasn’t holding her coffee.

“You have got to stop doing that.”

Without an invitation, he sat and smiled. She took a deep breath and looked away, came painfully close to rolling her eyes. For some reason, he appreciated the fact she held back and wondered just how much it would take for her to disregard him with such a gesture.

“Please, sit down,” she said.

He glanced at his chair. “Thank you.”

She set her e-reader aside and regarded him. “I thought for sure you’d be back at the office by now.”

So did he. “I couldn’t fly yesterday even if I’d found a flight.”

“Oh?”

He didn’t miss the tiny shine in the corner of her eye.

“No. I had one too many the other night. Inflicting that on whoever had the misfortune of sitting next to me on the flight home was more than I could take after my flight here.”

She smiled, briefly, and lifted her chin. “I’m glad to hear you’ve evolved since Friday.”

Unable to help himself, he laughed.

Her smile returned.

Victor felt a twist in his gut, a pull to something he didn’t want to name. “I guess you’re leaving today,” he said.

She shrugged. “I am.”

He nodded. “Justin informed me you made sure I didn’t decide to go for a late night swim.”

“It was tempting. But then I realized you wouldn’t be able to pay me if you swallowed too much water.”

“Self-preserving. Very smart of you.”

“It’s a gift.”

When the woman wasn’t tossing barbs at him, she was beautiful. Perfect lines in her face, high cheekbones … he couldn’t tell if her olive skin was from an ancestor or the byproduct of living in Southern California. Not anything like anyone he’d been attracted to before.

What was he thinking? He wasn’t attracted.

Victor shook his head and stood. “Well, I saw you sitting here and thought I’d at least say goodbye.”

She stood with him and extended her hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry things didn’t go as planned this weekend.”

Her fingers were long, elegant. Just like the woman. Disappointment saying goodbye was an emotion he had no business feeling. Yet there it was, like a lump in his chest.

“Are you?”

Her smile cracked. “No. But it seemed the right thing to say. I am sorry for the heartache. That’s never easy, even if it’s for the right reason.”

Victor realized he was still shaking her hand and let go.

“Goodbye, Victor. Good luck to you.”

“Goodbye, Shannon.” And because it was the appropriate thing to do once you said goodbye, Victor walked away. When he turned to take a last look, Shannon sharply moved her gaze to her coffee.

 

About the Author

New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee has written twenty-eight books that have collectively sold more than five million copies and have been translated into more than eighteen languages. Raised in Washington State, Bybee moved to Southern California in the hope of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned the Not Quite Series, the Weekday Brides Series, the Most Likely To Series, and the First Wives Series.

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