Title: IQUITOS: THE PAST WILL KILL
Author: John R. Beyer
Publisher: Black Opal Books
Pages: 353
Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Synopsis

Jonas Peters and Frank Sanders team up to solve a string of murders, starting with the intentional and fatal bombing of a local coffee shop in downtown Riverside—a usually calm city in Southern California. Dozens are dead after an explosion rips apart the Coffee Grind, leaving dozens of others gravely wounded. Frank soon finds himself up to his elbows assisting the bombing victims, especially when he discovers that Jonas was walking to the Coffee Grind to meet up with his fiancée, but he never made it. In an instant, all their lives are thrust into a trail of death and destruction carried out by an unknown psychopath.

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Jonas Peters grinned at the slightly older man standing on the second step of the entrance to the brick building while reaching out his right hand. “Thanks for the help on the case.”

Frank Sanders shook his head. “I should be the one saying ‘thank you’ a few times, as many cases you’ve helped me on.”

“How’s business, seriously?” Jonas asked.

“It’s good, Jonas. Some cases really make me some money, and some just pay the bills. Sure, I miss the days when you and I would bump into each other at the department on a juicy murder or burglary, but those days are gone. Retirement pay isn’t substantial, but this gig gives me plenty of traveling money.”

The two men had spent the previous forty minutes in Frank’s office on the second floor of the Wright building just northwest of the Mission Inn in downtown Riverside, California. They had been going over the final paperwork on a joint case they had been working on together, albeit somewhat apart.

Frank had gone from a crimes-against-persons detective to private detective when he retired from the Riverside Police Department. Jonas Peters had gone from homicide detective to falling into a bottle of Jack Daniels and then re-surfacing to finish a case which cost him a dear friend, along with many innocents. Fortunately, that story had a happy ending, with the killing of Zachary Marshall, the psychopath who had started it all. It should have meant the release of the demons Jonas had felt for so many years, but instead, it just reinforced the negativity of the world in which he had lived for so long. He wanted out, but did not know how to exit.

Jonas had turned in his badge for the Riverside Police Department where he worked, and moved to Scottsdale, Arizona, believing his life might take a one-eighty. It hadn’t. Jonas eventually found himself on a pension, living on twenty acres of desert near a small town named Phelan in Southern California and working a few cases here and there as a private detective. Not a glamorous job but one, like Frank had responded, that helped make the financial side of life a bit more comfortable.

Jonas also liked the solitude of the High Desert. Seemed fewer ghosts circled there.

He also liked to cry where no one would see him.

“How’s your life really going?” Frank asked while stepping down a step and looking his friend squarely in the eyes.

Frank had known Jonas for over two decades while working at the Riverside City Police Department but had never gotten to know the man very well. Jonas had always been friendly enough, but to dig into his personal history was not a door a fellow officer ever tried to venture through.

Jonas had always been somewhat aloof. Not aloof like a head-in-the-sky sort of fellow but one who always questioned himself and thus never allowed anyone from the outside to look inside.

“Actually, Frank,” Jonas stated. “Things are looking up for me recently. The cases I take are ones that I want, and the ones I don’t, I don’t.”

Frank nodded his rather large square head. “Any women?”

Jonas smiled. “There was in Scottsdale for a while. A great lady by the name of Samantha—I called her Sam—and we hit if off well after I retired from the force. You know, after Steve’s murder, I just had to get out of here, but after a year or so I needed to come back. This is where I grew up and all I really know.”

“You know, John Steinbeck wrote that you can never truly go home.”

“Yeah, well, he was right. That’s why I live out in the boonies in Phelan. Just me and my three dogs.”

Frank grinned. “I like dogs.”

“You have any?”

“Nope, I’m just gone too much to feel like it would be fair to them.”

“That makes sense.”

“What happened to Sam?”

Jonas shifted his weight from the left to the right. “She could sense I wanted to move back near here, and we sort of went our own ways. We reconnected a few months back—you know, sort of a long-distance affair with texts, phone calls, and the like. She called me the other week to let me know she would be in Riverside on business. It coincided with my meeting with you.”

“Serendipitous, I would say.” Frank clapped Jonas on the shoulder while giving him a wink.

Jonas smiled in return. “Yes, we’ve spent the last couple of days together, and things were just like they were. We may even try the relationship again—even if it means some traveling for both of us for now. I truly love that woman, Frank.”

“And I’m sure she feels the same way about you.”

“I hope so,” Jonas said. “Well, I gotta get going. I promised to meet her at the Common Grounds in a few minutes. Thanks for helping me on the case.”

“And vice versa.” Frank held out his hand and shook his friend’s. “Go and enjoy your cup of coffee.”

I hope she does love you, Jonas—you could use it.

About the Author

John R. Beyer spent nearly ten years in law enforcement in Southern California as a street cop, a training officer and a member of the elite SWAT team. After leaving the force, he continued in public service entering the field of education. During his tenure, he served as a classroom teacher, school administrator, and district administrator, and was an integral part of the gang and drug force in San Bernardino. While in both worlds he earned a Doctorate in School Administration and a Doctorate in Clinical Psychology.

During all those years, he never gave up the passion for writing – both fiction and nonfiction. He has been published in numerous magazines, newspapers and the like for decades, writing on a variety of topics. His latest short stories in the past year can be found in Foliate Oak Literary Magazine (2016) and GNU Journal (2017). He is also the author of three highly praised internationally known novels – Hunted (2013), Soft Target (2014) and Operation Scorpion (2017).

He won the ‘Write Well Award’ in October of 2018 from the Silver Pen Writer’s Association for a fictional short story.

His newest novel, ‘Iquitos – the Past Will Kill’, was released in November of 2018 by Black Opal Books bringing two of his protagonists together for their first investigation. Jonas Peters and Frank Sanders will work hand in hand with an international incident which left undetected could cause a catastrophic issue for the United States. They are friends and they are good at what they do. Catching the bad guys.

Website * Blog * Twitter

Title: A BROKEN REALITY
Author: Rob Kaufman
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 320
Genre: Thriller/Suspense/Psychological Thriller

Synopsis

On a fateful night in the dead of winter, an unimaginable tragedy changes the lives of two families forever. How will they manage to deal with reality while stopping the sociopath who is pushing them toward the edge of sanity?

Ten-year-old, Danny Madsen, has been missing for four days when Jesse Carlton begins his own search for his godson on a frigid, snowy night. Driving along a deserted rural road, Jesse hits a stretch of black ice at the same time Danny appears from the thicket. Unable to control the car, Jesse slams into the boy and watches helplessly as Danny’s body flies back into the dark brush.

When Jesse regains consciousness, he has no recollection of how he and his car wound up in a ditch. However, there’s a witness: Charles Hastings, the sociopathic kidnapper who chased Danny through the brush and into the path of Jesse’s car.

Hastings takes this chance to set up Jesse so he’ll take the fall for both Danny’s disappearance and death. And so the mind games begin–an onslaught of psychological manipulation that devastates Jesse, his wife, Danny’s parents and the cops’ investigation. Inexplicably, the torment continues even after the primary suspect is killed and the rollercoaster of emotions and confusion seems never-ending until the final and devastating truth is revealed.

If you like gripping, suspenseful page-turners that keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end, this is a must read!

 

Guest Post

The “Twist”: When the Plot Thickens

One of the most difficult parts of writing suspense and psychological thrillers is keeping the “twist” (the unforeseen development) a surprise. There’s a fine line between maintaining reader interest while also not giving away too much information. With A BrokenReality, there is a good amount of information provided within the first few pages, but the suspense lingers throughout the book. One review I received said it perfectly:

“What I loved most about this book was that there was no mystery to be solved. The reader knows what happened and what is happening as the story unfolds. Still, my heart was racing to know how it would all play out.”

When I read reviews like that, I know I’ve done my job! Sure, I pepper in clues along the way, knowing that readers are curious people – many will go back and try to find something they might’ve missed. That’s the reason I had to be exceptionally precise with the timeline and action in A Broken Reality. If one small piece of the puzzle was missing or incorrect, my readers would know it… and I’d hear about it immediately.

With my previous book, One Last Lie, it was a few weeks before publication when one of my Advance Readers read the book and brought up a flaw in the plot that no one else caught. After three panic attacks and a few glasses of wine (okay, more than a few), I got myself together and thought things through. I figured out a way to make it work and rewrote a large section of the book. It’s now a top-seller and gets four and five star reviews from readers around the world. That’s the reason it’s so important to have Advance Readers review books before publication. Okay… I digress.

Back to the subject at hand: the “twist”. I often wonder if readers enjoy a full, “OMG, I don’t believe it!” within the final pages or if they would rather have enough clues along the way that they’re not completely surprised at the end.

What’s your preference? I’d love to know so I can keep it in mind for my next book!

Excerpt

Danny Madsen had been missing for four days, and hope was fading faster than the weak sunlight giving in to the cold night ahead. Worse, there’d been intermittent periods of snow and sleet throughout the day, creating slick surfaces on unlit county roads and leaving behind asphalt without traction or boundaries.

Like every other evening since the boy’s disappearance, the approaching dusk put a damper on the search effort. Each was another day past the critical “48-hour window,” another night for Jesse Carlton to fight back tears of frustration as he crawled the icy streets of Hingham, Massachusetts in his silver BMW, looking for the ten-year-old boy the Amber Alert described over and over as white with blond hair and blue eyes, weighing fifty-six pounds and standing about four feet six inches. When last seen, they’d always add, he was wearing a bright blue North Face coat, blue corduroy pants, Nike sneakers and a backpack with the name “Danny” stitched into the left shoulder strap.

Danny’s description echoed in Jesse’s head as he made the right off of Main Avenue onto Forest, which passed the hundred or so square acres of conservation land. He didn’t need the Amber Alert to picture Danny. He’d recognize him the instant he saw him since he’d known the boy from the day he was born. Jesse had long been best friends with his parents, Becky and Don, and Danny had become the son Jesse and Melissa tried and tried for but could never have. They’d become so close to the Madsens, in fact, that they’d purchased a home up the block from them, sight unseen, when Becky and Don told them it had come on the market. It was apparent to all of them that the less distance between the families, the more fulfilled their lives would be.

It was this honorary parenting of Becky and Don’s only child that had Jesse driving the streets and highways in and outside of every neighboring town for the past four nights—pursuing leads he’d overheard cops discussing at the Madsen home, following up on hunches he’d get after scouring the Internet for clues from past abductions. Each evening as he began his search, Jesse prayed he’d be the one to bring Danny home safe, sound and emotionally intact.

Jesse knew his nightly searches were pointless, but he could no longer bear pacing the floor at home or sitting in the Madsen’s cop-filled living room waiting for another bullshit tip, another clue that led nowhere but deeper into heartache. Melissa spent her nights comforting Becky while Don worked with the police to pursue every potential lead. Jesse’s need to do something, anything, forced him into his car each night with dissipating hopes and, by the way things had been going recently, unrealistic dreams.

The last person to see Danny was the school bus driver who watched him jump down the vehicle’s steps four days earlier, just three blocks from Don and Becky’s. And that clue was as solid—and as clear—as mud.

Jesse turned off the radio and clicked on the high beams. The pavement was pure white from the newly fallen snow, and there wasn’t another car anywhere to be seen. In front of him was blackness; behind him was blackness; on each side, nothing but blackness. How did he expect to see anything out here, let alone find a scared and freezing kid? He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. This was the only action he could take that made him feel like he was actually doing something to help.

The yellow light poles every 300 feet or so did nothing but offer a blurry glow that barely reached the road. And now that a smattering of snow had started again, the soft crunch of flakes beneath the tires filled the silence with an eeriness that sent a strange tingle sliding up Jesse’s neck.

On either side of Forest Avenue lay the Terrence Ford Conservation Land, acres and acres of brush, swamp and trees with a few neighborhoods dotting the outskirts. Since the homes were hidden behind the dense thicket and prodigious pines, they were usually invisible to Forest Avenue drivers. Tonight though, even in the deep blackness of this night, he could see their pinpricks of homey yellow light, which, like the rickety poles lining the road, was nothing he could see by.

As he passed the two-mile marker, his phone rang, jolting him from his concentration. The display on the dash showed Melissa’s cell. He took a calming breath and pressed the button on the steering wheel. “Hey, babe.”

“Where are you?” Melissa sounded almost panicked, her voice trembling.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m at Becky and Don’s. They just got a call from Agent Rivera…hold on.”

He tried to be patient, but after a few more seconds of muffled voices he couldn’t hold back. “Missy!” he yelled and banged his fists on the steering wheel. “For Christ’s sake, what did Rivera say?”

“Sorry, Jesse. I’m just getting more details.” The muffled voices he’d first heard faded away as though she was moving into another room. “Someone just called the hotline from somewhere out in Hingham. It was an older woman who lives—”

Jesse felt like his heart skipped a beat. “I’m in Hingham! Where in Hingham, Missy? Where?”

“Oh my God, Jesse. Wait, I wrote it down.” His pulse pounded against the side of his neck as he waited for the crumpling of paper to stop and her words to start again. “Okay, the woman lives on Tower Road off Route 228, on the east side of that conservation area.”

He brought up the GPS and frantically searched for 228. “I’m like five minutes from 228—five minutes. I’m literally on the other side of the woods.” His voice was shaky. “I’ll put Tower Road in the GPS.”

“She says she saw a boy fitting Danny’s description running past her house a couple of hours ago. She didn’t call right away because she wasn’t sure.”

Jesse let out a shout of frustration. His shallow breaths quivered in his throat. “Shit, it’s starting to sleet,” he said. “I’m on Forest right now. It runs parallel to Route 228. I’ll turn around and work my way toward Tower to see if I can meet up with one of the units.”

“Jesse, please be careful. I don’t want you getting stuck in the middle of nowhere.”

“This isn’t nowhere, Missy—it’s Hingham,” he said with a sigh, knowing there was nothing he could say to help quell her anxiety. She was a worrier, plain and simple. It was something he’d become accustomed to and had learned to be patient with, but tonight his nerves were too raw, his patience too thin.

“Jesse, sleet means ice. Ice means slippery. Slippery means…”

“Missy,” he snapped. He bit his lip and took another breath. “I’m going to turn around and head back toward 228.” He gazed into the darkness to his right, wishing there was a road that cut through the conservation area. “Once I get there, I’ll give you a call. Until then, sit tight. This could be the break we’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh God, Jesse. I hope so. Please be careful. I’ll wait for your call. I love you.”

“I love you, Babe,” he replied, making sure to sound as composed as possible as he disconnected.

Jesse was once again alone, the soft muffle of the car engine filling the otherwise empty silence. Keeping safety in mind despite his own anxiety to find the boy safe, he made a careful K-turn in the middle of Forest Avenue. The tires slipped a bit on the icy road, so he let up on the pedal allowing the car to straighten itself out. When he faced south, he stepped on the gas again and drove as fast as he could without completely losing traction.

Jesse could see the lights of Hanover Mall through the melting snow on the windshield. The liquid dripping down the glass made it look as though the lights were dancing, shimmying back and forth to the steady beat of the tires crunching the ice beneath him. He glanced at the speedometer: 25 mph. If he could keep up this speed, he’d be back at the intersection of Forest and Main within four minutes.

A faint smile crossed his lips as he remembered finding Danny’s favorite Spider-Man action figure in the back seat earlier that week; Danny must’ve dropped it the day Jesse helped out Don and Becky by picking him up from rehearsal for his school’s play. The toy had been right in the middle of the seat, and he wondered if he could reach it—maybe it would change his luck, somehow attract Danny to him.

Jesse reached back, fumbling around, trying to reach Spidey. Nothing. He leaned further and slid his open palm along the seat. Still nothing. Angling backward as far as he could, he patted the floor mat behind him in hopes that the figure had slid during a turn.

No luck.

A quick glance showed the tiny superhero jammed into the corner of the back seat. Spider-Man was tonight’s lucky charm; the idea felt right, and it would help him find Danny. It was a superstitious and even desperate move, but doing things by the book had so far turned up nothing.

“Gotcha!” he cheered when he snagged the action figure’s foot. He turned back toward the road to see a black figure stumbling out from the brush in front of him. In less than a second, the headlights shown on the figure’s face—it was Danny.

Horror seized Jesse by the throat and he gasped as he slammed on the brakes. The car went into an immediate spin, flying directly at Danny whose eyes went wide in the headlights. Jesse felt a thud against the back panel of the car. He screamed, the view from every window only blurred streaks of light. He tried to focus, to spot Danny somewhere in the whirl of his surroundings. But the boy was gone. He screamed again, his cry now muffled by the airbag exploding against his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the BMW skid off the side of the road and nose-dive into a shallow ditch filled with snow.

As the car lay on its side, ruined engine still ticking, Jesse could barely hang on to consciousness. Images and sounds swirled through his head: the screech of metal dragging along the pavement, Danny’s face hitting the window, the sickening thump as the car smashed sideways into the little boy’s body.

“It didn’t happen,” Jesse whispered. “This is a dream,” he panted. “Just a dream.” He repeated the words again and again until the weight of his eyelids became unbearable and he closed his eyes, allowing the sound of his sobbing to lead him gently into his own personal darkness.

About the Author

As a child, Rob Kaufman was always fascinated by the stories recited by those around him and the words used to tell them. As he got older, his need to tell his own stories grew, as did his ability to share them in exciting and captivating ways.

However, he wanted to share more than just stories. His primary desire was to create characters with whom people could relate, while at the same time bringing them through a journey from which most would crumble.

His degree in Psychology was the first step toward getting beneath the surface of the people in his life. What followed was a lifelong search for what makes people tick – what forces them to become evil when deep down in their heart of hearts, they are yearning for love. Rob’s characters walk this search with him, deep into the human psyche, creating psychological thrillers from every day events.

Rob’s second book “One Last Lie” continues to receive great praise and is selling well in both electronic and paperback formats. His current book, “A Broken Reality” is much darker than his first, with characters who hold bits and pieces of strangers he’s known, friends he’s had and personal tragedy he’s lived through.

“This book hits home for me,” says Rob. “There were a few pages that made me laugh out loud as I wrote them… and many that made me cry. And the great thing is, I’m finding that many readers of this book are experiencing the same emotions.”

Through social and other media, Rob hopes to get “A Broken Reality” into the hands of millions, so that they, too, can experience the ups, downs, twists, turns and final tragedy that has helped make this book a Five-Star contender.

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Title: Trailblazer

Author: Anna Schmidt

Series: Cowboys & Harvey Girls, #1

Pub Date: January 1, 2019

Synopsis

MEET THE HARVEY GIRLS

These real-life pioneering women were symbols of elegance in the wild frontier: taming rough manners, falling in love, and changing the face of the West forever.

Grace Rogers is ready for the adventure of a lifetime. With her family’s farm falling on hard times, she accepts a position with the prestigious Fred Harvey Company and heads for Juniper, New Mexico. There she meets a handsome cowboy who quickly turns her head. Too bad the Harvey Girls are forbidden to marry…

Nick Hopkins has a plan: buy a little land, marry, and raise a family—in that order. But after meeting Grace, he can’t keep away. Their only choice is to marry in secret…but Nick isn’t the only man entranced by Grace’s charms, and this unexpected rival doesn’t plan on taking no for an answer. He will have her, no matter the cost: to Grace, to Juniper, or to the happily ever after Grace and Nick fought so hard to make their own.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | Indiebound

Excerpt

She glanced at him, saw his lips quirk in what might be a smile and then turn his attention to the window. His skin was tanned to a burnished gold except for a lighter stripe across his forehead. His head was probably usually protected—her father had the same line on his face for the same reason—though in the cowboy’s case, it would have been by that black hat on the seat next to him. His thick, chocolate-colored hair kept falling over his forehead even though he repeatedly brushed it back with his fingers. He needed a shave, but there was something appealing about the stubble of whiskers. He was tall; that much was evidenced by the fact that even when occupying a seat meant for two, he seemed to need more space. He had broad shoulders that stretched the limits of the dark-gray sack coat he wore. The tan cotton shirt underneath it was in need of a good ironing. His trousers were a dark brown and his boots black, with fancy tooling.

“Do I pass inspection?” he asked, jarring her back to reality—and the realization that she had been studying every inch of him.

Her cheeks grew warm and red. “I…”

He waved away any excuse she might offer. “Look, Miss…” He waited.

“Rogers,” she said, her voice cracking. “Grace Rogers.” She saw no harm in giving him her name, and she didn’t want to be rude.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Rogers.” He hesitated, then added, “Like Ollie said, I’m Nick Hopkins. I wonder if you would do me the honor of joining me for supper?”

The offer was more tempting than it should have been. She had looked forward to dining in a real Harvey eatery, but even though her first-class ticket included meals, having dinner with this stranger—even paying her own way—simply would not do. “I have food with me. Apples and cheese and some bread.” She nodded reluctantly toward the carpetbag and the sack of food inside it that Miss Culver had given her at the station.

“But did you ever eat in a Harvey House, Miss Rogers?” he asked.

“Yes. In Kansas City.” She took pleasure in his surprise. He probably saw her as some country bumpkin. She straightened her back and shoulders and met his gaze directly for the first time. “You see, I work for the organization.” She flashed the practiced smile she’d developed in training.

His return smile took her breath away. How could any man be this good-looking? She felt her cheeks begin to turn pink, but she shook off the attraction. She had no time for flirting. She was on her way to a job, a new life that would hopefully provide adventure for her and much-needed financial assistance for her family.

Still, she couldn’t help but cast him a quick look from beneath her lashes.

“Well now,” he drawled. “In that case, it seems to me it would be to your advantage to try as many of Mr. Harvey’s establishments as possible. You could look at things from the customer’s view and see how the one we’ll be stopping at soon is different from the one where you’ll be working.”

“Oh, there are no differences, Mr. Hopkins,” she replied, parroting the information she’d absorbed during her training. “At least not when it comes to service and quality of food. Our organization adheres to the same standards no matter where we are. It’s the Harvey way.” As the train pulled into the station, Grace pressed her hands over her skirt. “Enjoy your meal, Mr. Hopkins,” she said brightly.

Nick Hopkins grinned and stood. He reached past her and took her carpetbag from her, lifting it into the overhead rack, then stepped back to allow her to go ahead of him. “If you change your mind, Miss Rogers…”

A dozen different thoughts flashed through Grace’s mind. She reminded herself that going with this man might be construed as breaking the strict rules for conduct set forth in her training. She reminded herself of her mother’s warning not to talk to strangers. She reminded herself that she had no time for exploring a possible friendship with a man—or more.

She was a Harvey Girl now and, as such, represented the high standards of the company. “I won’t,” she said, “but thank you for your kind offer, sir.” With that, she made her way to the exit.

The establishment was a far cry from the place her train to Kansas City had stopped. Greeters met passengers at the entrance and discreetly directed them to the appropriate washroom. By the time Grace returned to the dining room, Mr. Hopkins was already seated at a table near the door. He looked up, arching an eyebrow and nodding toward the empty place across from him in question.

She hesitated. The truth was, now that she was actually standing in the dining room filled with people, it struck her that she was alone and knew no one—other than Mr. Hopkins. Where would be the harm in sitting opposite possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen, a man who also appeared to be quite intelligent, and genuinely concerned for her welfare? After all, the conductor had vouched for him.

On the other hand, given how strict Mr. Harvey’s standards were for his employees, how did she know someone wouldn’t be watching and report her? Maybe Mr. Hopkins worked for Mr. Harvey and was supposed to be testing her.

She straightened to her full height—just over five feet—scanned the room quickly, and made her way to a vacant chair at a table occupied by two other women. Seating herself, Grace smiled up at the waitress in her pristine uniform: a black dress covered by a crisp white pinafore apron, black shoes polished to a sheen, and black hose, all topped off with a perky white bow in her upswept hair. “Milk, please,” she said and watched as the waitress set her coffee cup next to its saucer, its position a simple cue to the girl who served the beverages.

As soon as the waitress walked away, the drink girl arrived, glanced quickly at the way the cups had been set, and poured coffee for Grace’s tablemates, leaving a full pot on the table in case they wanted refills. Moments later, she delivered a tall glass of milk to Grace, presenting the beverage on a small silver tray. A girl could be fired for simply carrying a glass or plate to a customer. Serving on a tray was the Harvey way.

This is my future, Grace thought, not some cowboy who is far too handsome for his own good.

About the Author

Award-winning author ANNA SCHMIDT delights in creating stories where her characters must wrestle with the challenges of their times. Critics have consistently praised Schmidt for the reality of her characters—exposing their flaws as well as their strengths as she delivers strong tales of hope and love in the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles. She resides in Wisconsin and Florida.

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5 copies of Trailblazer

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Title: Hot Target Cowboy

Author: June Faver

Series: Dark Horse Cowboys, #2

Pub Date: January 1, 2019

Synopsis

His loyalty is to his family. But his heart belongs to her.

Eldest son Colt Garrett is the biggest, strongest and steadiest of the Garrett brothers. Colt accepts his responsibilities, knowing his future is tied to the land. Colt has stayed centered—but when he falls in love, he falls hard. He is mesmerized by Misty Dalton, the younger sister of one of his brother’s friends.

Misty Dalton has held together a family plagued with problems since her mother passed away. But when the threats to her family turn deadly, Misty turns to Colt. If anybody wants to hurt Misty, they’re going to have to go through the toughest of the Garrett boys first.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Indiebound

Excerpt

It was at dinner that Misty announced her intentions of moving back to the Dalton ranch.

Colton could not have been more surprised if she had smacked him in the face.

There was a chorus of disappointment, but Misty seemed to have made up her mind.

Colton was angry. He tried not to show it, but he speared his food and shoveled it into his mouth in silence.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Leah asked, giving voice to his concerns.

Misty shrugged. “I don’t know why it wouldn’t be. Mark and I don’t know anything about the banker’s death or why he wound up there.”

Leah’s brow puckered in a frown. “But what about Joe? Whoever killed him is still out there. As I understand it, the sheriff doesn’t have a lead on the person who shot him.”

“Trust me, Joe’s death is on my mind all the time.” Misty’s lips trembled before she pressed them together in a firm line. “I—I don’t know anything about that, either. I mean…” Her voice dropped to a lower register. “Mark and I weren’t in the loop. Joe didn’t share his thoughts or his activities with us.”

Colton swallowed hard, his food going down like a load of concrete. “Yes, but whoever shot him might not know that. I don’t think you’ll be safe there.”

Her large, dark eyes appraised him, as though wondering at his motives … causing him to wonder what his own motives were. “Well, we can’t keep imposing on the Garrett family hospitality forever. We need to get back home and try to pick-up the pieces.”

Colton stabbed a piece of meat and poked it into his mouth, thus ending his commentary.

Later, he asked Misty to take a walk with him.

She hesitated, but took the hand he offered.

It wasn’t fully dark outside, but the sky was streaked with purples and crimson from the setting sun. Crickets chirped and the smell of damp earth and grass wafted on the light breeze.

Colton tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and laid his hand on top of hers. It always felt so small and soft when compared to his.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

He sucked in a breath and blew it out in a huff. “I’m concerned about you and Mark moving back to your home so soon after all the violence. I wish you would give the sheriff a chance to find out who’s behind the murders of your brother and Mr. Hamilton.”

Misty hung her head, but stayed in step with him as they made a wide circle of the house and outbuildings. “I feel like such a moocher staying here. I appreciate you for taking us in when we were about to be thrown out. I appreciate you even more for all the sweet things you do without even thinking about it.”

He stopped, turning to face her, and lifted her chin. “Misty, honey—you’ve got to know how I feel about you.”

She gazed up at him solemnly. “No, I can honestly say, I don’t have a clue. I think you like me, but maybe you need to spell out your feelings for me.” The silence that followed was like a black vortex sucking him inside.

Colton’s chest tightened as though a steel band was constricting his lungs. He swallowed hard. “Well, I guess you could say I love you.”

She raised her brows. “Guess you could say? What the hell does that mean?”

He grinned. “Damn, you’re a tough woman. I love you. There! Are you satisfied?”

“Well, I don’t know. Why was that so hard to say?”

“Because I’ve never said those words to any other woman before. It’s you. You’re the one I love.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

She broke into a wide grin of her own. “Now I’m satisfied.” She slipped both arms around his waist and delivered a fierce hug.

Colt wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. Now she knows. He pressed a kiss against the top of her head, rocking her slightly.

“Oh, Colt. I’ve been hoping you felt that way about me.”

He snorted, indelicately. “Well, if you didn’t know, you were the only one. I’ve been taking heat from Beau and Leah … and my dad.”

She gasped, raising her head. “Your dad?”

“Yeah, everyone knew but you.”

She ducked her head again, but she was grinning. He thought she was blushing, but the diminishing light hid her embarrassment. “So, now what?”

“So now I ask you again, as the man who loves you, please don’t move back to your house until the sheriff has caught whoever murdered your brother and Fred Hamilton.”

“Well, since you’re the man who loves me, I’ll take your concerns very seriously.” She blew out a breath. “Do you suppose we could go talk to the sheriff tomorrow and see if he has anything new to tell us?”

He kissed her forehead and then her nose. “Sure thing. As long as you give him a little time to solve the murders.”

She broke loose with an impudent smile. “Why Colton Garrett. I do believe you like having me around.”

“More than you know.” He gave her a little squeeze. “Now promise to let the sheriff get to the bottom of the violence before you go moving back to your ranch.”

“It depends on what he has to say.”

About the Author

June Faver loves Texas, from the Gulf coast to the panhandle, from the Mexican border to the Piney Woods. Her novels embrace the heart and soul of the state and the larger-than-life Texans who romp across her pages. A former teacher and healthcare professional, she lives and writes in the Texas Hill Country.

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Title: The Magical Christmas Do Over
Author: Linda West
Publisher: Morningmayan Publishing
Pages: 320
Genre: Holiday

Synopsis

Three women, thrown together by fate, get a second chance to go back in time and change their lives forever.

Excerpt

It was a cold December eve, some say the coldest in decades, and a blizzard warning was in effect. It was the Friday before Christmas and most of the other workers of Kennedy and Crane had already left for the Christmas holiday weekend.

Samantha looked at the clock and groaned inwardly. It was after 8 o’clock and her boss was in an extra foul mood even for her.

“Shouldn’t you be getting home to put on that awesome Chanel dress you bought for the big night?” She asked.

Macy spun around enraged, and Samantha sunk back.

Macy’s dark brows knit together and her brown eyes looked nearly black with the size of her pupils. She ran her hands through her short dark hair and then stared at Samantha with disbelief on her face.

“I got a text from Todd an hour ago. He’s gone off to LA with some friends for Christmas!”

Samantha’s mouth fell open. “What, why?” She stopped herself. “I’m sure he has a good reason Macy.”

Macy snorted. “Yeah, good reasons usually don’t come in a text. I’m losing him Sam.”

Macy plopped down in her chair and stared out the large picture window of her sleek office, and tapped her long manicured nails on her desk like a woodpecker.

“Says he’ll call me when he gets back…in a month.”

Samantha’s groaned inwardly. Poor Macy, it looked like she was getting the ultimate big let down. Broken up with at Christmas. No engagement celebration after all.

“Here’s a piece of mail you didn’t get.” Sam offered up happily as she placed it on Macy’s desk.

“Send it back.” Macy said dully without turning.

Samantha continued hopefully. “It’s not the annual Christmas invite from your mother Macy, that one is always in a red envelope. I always send that back. This is something different.”

Samantha looked at the pretty Tiffany blue colored envelope.

“It’s addressed to you personally, not the company.”

Macy cocked her head to the side intrigued.

Sam rushed on eager to bring some sort of happiness to her boss. “Maybe it’s a love letter from Todd with two tickets to Paris for when he gets back?”

Macy let out a big huff and gazed out the window at the oncoming storm. They both knew that wasn’t the case. Todd’s last minute text was just a breakup in disguise.

But if not Todd then who? Macy really didn’t have any close friends that would send her a Christmas card. Anyone that did know her at all, knew she abhorred Christmas. Too much money being spent in the name of sentimentality and tricky marketers as her father always said.

Macy waved her hand without looking back at Samantha as if she were a servant.

“Read it.”

Samantha scanned the letter, then suddenly, caught her breath and brought her hand to her heart.

“Macy.”

Something in Samantha’s tone made Macy spin her chair around.

“What?”

“Its from a friend of your mothers, a Ms. Carol Landers.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Macy threw her hands up in the air.

Now my mother is having her friends beg me to come home and visit her? How utterly selfish!”

She shook her head in disbelief. “What is it with my mother? She ruins my life and then she stalks me! Can’t she see no matter how many times she begs me to come home for Christmas – I’m not going to Kissing Bridge to see her?”

Samantha swallowed uncomfortably and croaked out, “I’m so sorry Macy. But this letter says that your mother passed away yesterday, and you’re the only relative left to claim her body.”

She looked up sadly and met Macy’s stunned eyes.

“You have to go home to Kissing Bridge.”

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About the Author

Linda West is an Amazon best seller and author of the best selling series ‘Christmas Kisses and Cookies.’ She writes books that feature food and fun and includes her own recipes from her quaint beach café in Malibu.

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Title: TWELVE DAYS
Author: Hope Waters
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 212
Genre: Romance

Synopsis

Zoey Blake is having a perfect holiday season. Finals are over and it’s time to head home for Christmas, but when she wins the Hartbreakers True Love contest to join them on their tour, she has a chance to follow her favorite band for twelve days — and twelve steamy nights.

Mackenzie has been a player since and joining Hartbreakers has only edged up his game, that is until he meets Zoey. She’s turned his world upside down and only she can make it right. Now all he has to do is convince her to stay with him forever. For a guy like Mack, that shouldn’t be too hard but it’s gonna take all he has and twelve days to win her true love.

Excerpt

“So this is your room?”

I nodded, hiking my backpack higher on my shoulder. I leaned up against the doorjamb, watching all the people running up and down the corridor as they settled into the hotel for the night.

Mack leaned against the wall, glanced at his phone and tried to stifle a sigh. “Tired?” I asked.

“Incredibly,” he said sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you take a nap this afternoon?” I asked.

“Because…I wanted to talk to you.”

I smiled. Mack wore his heart on his sleeve. He was a straight shooter and I admired that about him. You couldn’t dislike him either. “That’s sweet,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said and looked into my eyes. I met his gaze, not wanting to break the magic of this moment.  “Um, was…would you like to, you know, see more of each other while you are on tour with us?”

A pit started in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I was most scared of. I was scared that Mack would hurt me emotionally. I was scared of leaving him behind after the tour was done. Or him using me and leaving me behind.

But most of all I was scared of falling for him. Scratch that. I had already fallen hard.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I said.

He leaned into me and I met him halfway.

God, he was a good kisser.

Guest Post

Travelin’ Gal

The year was 1998 and everyone was looking forward to Y2K. There was a lot of fear and panic about computers, people were claiming planes were going to fall from the sky. Part of my family was planning to vacation in Hawaii and invited me to “end of the millennia” party in Hawaii, because while they weren’t buying into the panic, they theorized if anything did happen, oh well, we would be in Hawaii, which was a pretty good plan.

Except I was bouncing around the country in my station wagon, fresh off a bad break-up, I took my dog in the front seat sitting on top of my suitcase as I drove up 95 and out west on I-10. I was traveling for work, non-stop, living out of my suitcase. It sounds great, except for those crazy mall hours coupled with mall food. At one mall, they had TVs that played music and interviews. To this day, anytime I hear Ray Of Light by Madonna, I immediately feel the need to shout “I can help you over here” like I’m back at the register again.

I didn’t necessarily love working in a mall but I did love all the travel, moving around to trouble locations, fixing things up and moving on. Sleeping on a twin bed in a front room at staff housing was never great fun, but laughing at the crazy we all had is something I miss to this day.

After all that, I never got to Hawaii, though I visited almost every corner of this beautiful country. I instead bought myself a laptop and kept going, jotting down my ideas that turned into Twelve Days. As much as I want to scream when I hear certain songs from the turn of the millennia, they inspired me then. I just wanted to be flying down the road again, wind in my hair.

More than anything, I wanted a love story like Mack and Zoey. I got it, one day after my heart had healed after all that running. So now it’s time for me to share Mack and Zoey’s story with you, along with Josh and Nia and the rest of the gang.

I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much to StoreyBook Reviews for having me by!

Thank you Hope for sharing a little bit about your life and how you came to write Twelve Days!

About the Author

Hope Waters has been writing romance for over thirty years, traveling the globe but finally finding true love and now lives in Florida with her family.

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Title: Defending Chloe
Author: Susan Stoker
Release Date: December 4, 2018
Publisher: Montlake Romance

Synopsis

Gorgeous women don’t just stumble onto Ronan Cross’s remote property. But this one—vulnerable, victimized, and needing the kind of help only Ronan can offer—tells a story that makes his blood boil almost as hot as his need to protect her.

Since her father’s death, Chloe Harris has become a prisoner. Her own brother, a flesh peddler and low-level player in the Denver Mafia, is forcing her to sell her body for an endgame Chloe never saw coming: control over a vast fortune. Her only way out is to run—straight into the arms of the one hard-bodied man she can trust.

Defending Chloe could rain punishment down on the Mountain Mercenaries. Her brother has Mob connections and the local police in his pocket. But Ronan still has an edge—the unshakable loyalty of his deadly teammates. As well as an unquenchable thirst for retribution…and Chloe.

Meet “Mountain Mercenary” Ronan Cross From Defending Chloe

1) Greetings Ronan, or can I just call you Ro?

Ro is fine.

2) I understand that you are part of Mountain Mercenaries, a secret group of ex-military men who save women and children from dangerous situations. Can you comment on this group?

No. As you said, it’s a secret group.

3) What about your handler Rex? He is particularly secretive.

Rex is amazing. I’ve never met him, but I don’t have to have met him to know he’s one scary bad ass dude. He knows people from all levels of law enforcement, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had the President’s phone number programmed into his phone as well. But, like anyone in this line of business, he’s got some demons. Me and my fellow Mercenaries just hope they don’t come back and bite us in the ass one day.

4) There have been some major changes within the Mercenaries lately — especially with the introduction of Allye your teammate Gray Rogers’ significant other. How has having a civilian woman in the mix changed things? Does it make you think of anything that you may want in your future?

Allye is great. Love her. None of us had ever thought much about women…or at least having anything permanent with any specific woman, but seeing Gray with Allye makes me realize that one day I’d love to have a relationship like theirs. I want a woman who can stand up to me when I’m being a wanker but who isn’t adverse to letting me be a guy. And before you ask, what I mean is that I know myself, I’m gonna want to open her door and pay for shit. I’ll have no problem telling my woman that I love her, but I don’t want someone who will lose their shit if I track a little bit of mud in the house. Does that make sense?

5) Definitely. So what do you do for fun? You know, when you aren’t saving damsels in distress!

I’m a mechanic. I tinker with cars for fun. There’s nothing like taking in a car that won’t run, and turning it inside out to figure out what the problem is. The best feeling ever is when that beauty is driven off after I’ve given her new life.

6) And finally, tell us a bit about women in your life. Do you have a special someone?

Not yet. Although I have to tell you, I met the most intriguing woman the other day. There was just something about her that I can’t forget. Of course, there’s the little matter of figuring out who gave her the bruise she was sporting on her back and making sure she’s safe, but otherwise….

***

Excerpt

Chloe stared at all the clothes on the bed. Allye had arrived with a dozen bags in hand and told her she’d picked up a “few things” to tide her over.

“A few things?” Chloe asked in disbelief.

Allye laughed. “Ro said money was no object, and he wanted you to have enough things so you could have a choice of what to wear and not have to do laundry every night. I had to guess at your sizes, but I got some stuff with elastic waists just in case I was wrong in my assumptions.” Then the other woman began dumping the bags and showing off what she’d bought.

A shy smile formed as Allye’s words sank in. The thought that Ro wasn’t thinking about money, only her comfort, made Chloe feel good. Really good.

Allye smiled back as she said, “Ro doesn’t have to let you stay here, Chloe.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rex has a ton of contacts. And I mean a ton. This is what the Mountain Mercenaries do. They help get women out of bad situations. Ro could’ve asked Rex to set you up with one of the underground resources he has. You know, a safe house? You’d be just as safe there as you are here. But for some reason, Ro refused to even consider it. I know for a fact Gray suggested it. But you’re still here. He gave me his own money to get you stuff to wear. And he insisted that I find this for you.” Allye pulled out a bottle from a small bag she’d been holding.

Chloe recognized the brand of lotion she used.

“I’m going to say this only once, then I’ll never bring it up again . . . but I feel like I kind of have to.”

Chloe tensed.

“Don’t hurt him,” Allye said. “These guys . . . they’re total badasses. Professional soldiers. They can kick ass like you’d never believe. They go into situations no one else would dare. They take chances, and they’ll do whatever it takes to rescue women. I don’t know the other guys all that well yet, but I know Gray, and I have a feeling that deep down, they’re all scarred in one way or another. They’re all committed to saving women and children from the evils in the world, and there must be a deeper reason behind that than just wanting to do the right thing. And if Ro is anything like Gray, once he’s committed, he’s committed. He’ll move heaven and earth to make sure you’re happy, content, and safe. That’s how Gray is with me. I know without a doubt that Gray will never cheat on me, and he goes to great lengths to make sure I’m satisfied . . . in every way, if you know what I mean.”

Chloe stared at Allye with wide eyes as she continued.

“Ro strikes me as the same kind of man. I’m still getting to know the guys on the team, but I feel they wouldn’t be as close as they are if they didn’t have the same values and beliefs. Ro acts like the standoffish Brit more often than not, but he feels as deeply as anyone I’ve ever met. He likes you, Chloe. I was surprised when he actually left you here alone. He thought you’d bolt. Hell, I thought you’d leave. But you didn’t. And that means something to Ro.

“All I’m saying is that if you’re using his help to get away from your brother, good, I don’t blame you . . . but don’t lead him on. Ask if you can go into witness protection. Or into the underground program the Mountain Mercenaries have set up. Don’t stay here and make him think there’s something between you if you don’t feel that way.”

It was a long speech from the other woman, and Chloe felt the butterflies in her stomach again. She hadn’t thought much about how Ro was feeling because she was so uncertain herself and felt so out of control. But the idea of Ro keeping her around for a personal reason was appealing. More than appealing. She thought about how he’d washed her hair, how his hands had felt on her scalp. A man who was simply rescuing yet another woman from a bad situation wouldn’t do that, would he?

Allye cleared her throat, and Chloe realized she was waiting for her to say something. “I won’t lead him on,” Chloe said quickly. She hadn’t thought she’d want a boyfriend for a very long time after living under her brother’s controlling thumb, but Ro was nothing like Leon. He was bossy and tended to do things without asking her, but Chloe somehow knew if she objected or pushed back, Ro would listen to her and be flexible.

“Cool,” Allye said with a relieved sigh. “Now, shall we figure out which of this stuff you like and want to keep?”

Chloe smiled tentatively at the other woman. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends,” Allye said, handing the bottle of lotion to Chloe and turning back to the bed.

Watching her dig through the clothes and start to put them in some sort of order, Chloe gripped the plastic bottle tightly. Allye would never know how much her words meant. It had been a long time since Chloe’d had a friend. A true friend.

 

About the Author

Susan Stoker is a New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author whose series include Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes, SEAL of Protection, and Delta Force Heroes. Married to a retired army noncommissioned officer, Stoker has lived all over the country—from Missouri to California to Colorado—and currently lives under the big skies of Texas. A true believer in the happily ever after, Stoker enjoys writing novels in which romance turns to love.

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Synopsis

Fake relationship. Real feelings. Big problems. 

Brody O’Donnel doesn’t believe in happily-ever-afters—at least, not for himself. But he wants the best for his vivacious, beautiful friend Gwen Danes, and he’s tired of watching her pine for a clueless man. Figuring a little bit of jealousy will motivate the guy, Brody proposes a fake relationship. It’s an outrageous plan, but Gwen figures there’s no harm in it—until they share a passionate kiss she never saw coming.  

Suddenly, Gwen’s fighting a growing attraction to a man she knows she can’t have. After all, he’s just faking it…isn’t he? 

Excerpt

“How about the bar. How did you get into that?”

More relaxed, Brody made another one of those considering faces before answering. “I grew up wanting my own restaurant. The plans for the bar came later. My grandmother owned this swank place in Manhattan, and I thought there wasn’t anything better.”

“Your grandmother?” Could this guy get any better?

And the answer was a resounding yes, because then he was doing that thing where he reached back, pushing his big hands through the untamed curls of his hair, making his shirt stretch tight over his chest and arms. Nice. Brody slid the elastic off his wrist to bind the hair that liked to fall in his face. It wouldn’t stay that way for long. Within fifteen to thirty minutes, she’d bet all those wild red-brown curls would be back on the loose.

But for now he settled back against the cushions. “Yeah, the story goes that my grandfather opened the place before he met her. And one day she came in to the place with a date who’d done her wrong. Big mistake. She had a temper, and apparently wasn’t afraid to show it. So when she finished chewing this date out, Fiona was getting up to leave and my grandfather stopped her to offer her a job. He thought she could keep the kitchen running with that fiery Irish temper.”

Gwen was getting that warm swelly feeling in her chest as she leaned forward eager to hear more. “And then he fell in love with her and taught her to run the place?”

Brody coughed out a laugh. “Not quite. She told him what he could do with his offer and suggested if he had a better one, he had until she was out the door to give it to her. So he asked her to marry him instead.”

She was up on her knees, her chocolate set on the table behind the couch so she could clutch her hands over her heart. “That’s even better. No wonder you’re such a romantic!”

“Oh Gwendolyn. You give me those eyes and tell me I’m the romantic?” he asked with a shake of his head. “Hate to ruin it for you, but Fiona thought her husband had rocks in his head. Remember this is the woman who raised my mother. The happy ending to Fiona’s story was if her husband hadn’t died within a year of marrying her, she would have left him, new baby and all…but in the end she got the restaurant. And one summer I got to stay with her and she taught me to cook and—”

Gwen’s brows crumpled, that warm swelly feeling in her chest deflating in a rush. “Wait what? No.” She leaned forward poking him in the shoulder. “That’s the worst love story I ever heard!”

And now he was laughing for real, those deep green eyes flashing at her as he wedged himself further back into the couch cushions. “Love story? Sorry but that’s not really how the women in my family are. Hey!” he yelped, when she poked him again. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to poke the bear?”

Oh yeah, some bear. She’d heard people call him that before, because he was so big she guessed, but the only kind of bear this guy was, was a Teddy Bear. She poked again, and again because— “Yes, love story! You totally set me up.”

Poke. Poke.

“Gwen.”

She was pretty sure that was supposed to be some kind of warning, but no way could she take it seriously when the big guy was literally trying to wiggle away amid those deep rumbling laughs.

Poke.

Only then, lightning fast, the world spun and Gwen found herself laid out across Brody’s lap, held in place by the strong hand still wrapped around her wrist and the solid arm supporting her back. She blinked up into Brody’s too green, too deep, too soulful eyes, caught there and held. The laughter died between them and she swore, even as tight as he was holding her, the world shifted again…

 

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Mira Lyn Kelly grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in fine arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover he’d been living right around the corner from her. They live in rural Minnesota.

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Title: YOU CAN’T FORCE LOVE
Author: Marie Drake
Publisher: RedBird Books
Pages: 286
Genre: Realistic Fiction

Synopsis

“A battered butterfly, he’d build Kimberly up, nurture her strength and watch her return to flight. He repressed the visions dancing in the back of his mind; her naked body brandished red flags and spurred him to stampede. Bulls and butterflies did not mix.”

Jordan Fry’s obsession is born in “You Can’t Force Love” by Marie Drake, Book I in the Locked Hearts Series.

From different towns and social backgrounds, Jordan Fry and Kimberly Orvine experience life-altering abuse, lose a parent and land in the same foster home. Angry, and self-deprecating, fiery redheaded Kimberly is deadset on lousy behavior and suffering the consequences, punishing herself for former sins. Scared by his inner darkness, pyromaniac Jordan has vowed to change for the better. He focuses on Kimberly as the key to his success, but she intends to make him break his promises. Unaware of Jordan’s atrocious actions in the past, she’s dangerously close to unleashing the evil he struggles to contain during their epic battle of wills. Can they both survive?

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Excerpt

Debbie stopped at Krispy Chicken and surprised him with lunch. They relaxed on a park bench on Market Street; Jordan ate fried chicken with his fingers, and Debbie stared across the Delaware River. Jordan stopped eating and scanned the waterway; a couple of ships docked on its edge. “What?” he asked.

Debbie shook her head. “You know I love you, right? I’ll always do what I think is best for you,” she said.

“Did we stop for chicken so you could give me bad news?” Jordan asked.

Debbie met his eyes for a minute, smiled, and patted his leg. “No worries.”

He wiped his hands on a napkin and slid a sideways glance at his mother. “Can we get ice cream?” he asked.

She turned her wrist and checked the time. “Alright, but quick.”

About the Author

Award-winning author, Marie Drake lives in a small town near Lake Ontario with her husband, four sons, and three rescue pups. With many years of experience in the Foster Care community and advocating for other victims and survivors, she specializes in realistic and psychological fiction depicting the lives of abuse sufferers; their obstacles, their triumphs, and their downfalls.

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Synopsis

Love comes to the rescue.

Vet school drop-out Tess Grasso dreams of having her own pet therapy business, but she meets one disastrous obstacle after another. There’s no denying she has a way with animals, so in the meantime, she puts her skills to use at a local no-kill shelter. Between helping her furry companions and a budding relationship with fellow dog lover Mason Redding, Tess begins to find fresh confidence…

What Tess doesn’t know is that Mason is recovering from an accident, hoping to get back to his pro-baseball career. He’s afraid the truth will ruin everything—and he’s right. But in the midst of hurt and betrayal, a free-spirited stray Husky enters their lives and teaches them a few things about faith, love, and forgiveness.

Excerpt

Tess lifted her mug of tea and carried it into the kitchen and away from the wall of windows and the remarkable St. Louis night skyline. If this were her place, she’d get nothing done in the evenings as she cuddled against that couch, sipping tea, and gazing at the beautiful lights.

“I had no idea a veggie meat loaf could smell so amazing. I’m so hungry, I could eat… Wait, I don’t think you can say you could eat a bear when you’re vegetarian, can you?”

Mason laughed and said she could say whatever she wanted. He was slicing through a cucumber with a gleaming chef knife.

“After we eat, I’ll be good to get back out there and search again.”

“Me, too. I’ve been standing here thinking what it could be like if we succeed. I want the dog. No question. And I know he’ll have a better life. A much better life. But I can’t help but wonder if he’ll want to be here.”

Tess joined Mason at the opposite counter. “He will. I’m sure he will.” Her hand closed reflexively over his forearm in reassurance, and she had to refrain from jerking it away. Seeing his strength was one thing. Feeling it was another.

What would he do if she slid between him and the countertop and allowed her lips to land where they wanted?

She forced a stepped back. “Do you have honey?”

“Yeah. In the pantry.”

His pantry was relatively uncluttered, and she spotted the honey right away. A family-sized box of Cocoa Puffs on the top shelf made her smile.

“What?” He pulled open a drawer and handed her a spoon. “Are you grinning at my juvenile selection of pantry foods?”

“That’s a big box of Cocoa Puffs.”

“Aren’t they a kitchen-pantry requirement?”

“I certainly wished that growing up, but not in my house. At least not unless it was a special occasion. My parents both worked full-time when I was growing up, and I went over to my grandparents’ house every day before school. My grandma’s idea of a quick breakfast is a bread roll with butter and jam or day-old biscotti to dip in her coffee.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make you sound deprived, if that’s what you were aiming for.”

Tess laughed as she squeezed a bit of honey into her mug. “How can I help?”

“I’m almost done, thanks. I have a red on the counter and a white in the fridge, if you’re up for wine.”

“I’d like to try this,” she said, picking a Barolo, “if you like red.”

“Sure.” He pulled a corkscrew from one of the top drawers. “How about you open it while I finish up?”

Mason had a beautiful salad prepared, and a small pot of gravy was warming on the stove. When he opened the oven, she spotted a ceramic bowl of mashed potatoes, another of green beans, and the veggie meat loaf.

As Tess opened the wine, she thought of her grandma. Nonna had taught her never to belittle someone’s effort in the kitchen by equating their work to trouble. “Wow,” she said instead. “Everything looks great. I can’t wait to try it.”

“Thanks. My, uh, slow season is in winter. Cooking is a hobby I’ve wanted to take up for a while. Like I said, before tonight I’d only ever made three different main dishes.”

“You said that, but you didn’t tell me what they are, aside from meat loaf, that is.”

“Want to guess?” Mason grinned as he carried over the salad bowl to a dining table long enough to bring to mind Beauty and the Beast. Mason had set two places, one at an end, the other in the seat adjacent to it. Tess’s heart beat at the intimacy of it.

“Absolutely. Let’s see. You grew up on a farm in rural Iowa, and your family is not Italian, so I’m guessing one of them is not lasagna.”

“You would be correct.”

“Hmm, what’s farmy to cook? I’m trying to picture the Cracker Barrel menu in my head. And before you ask, I only got to eat there when I went to Florida with my cousin’s family on vacation. Okay, let’s see. Chicken and dumplings?”

Mason chuckled. “Nope, though that’s one of my mom’s go-to winter meals.”

“Country-fried steak?”

“If we were playing hangman, you’d have a head and body.”

“Chicken pot pie?”

“And there’s a leg, or is it the arm next?”

Tess clicked her tongue and slid into the open seat next to him. “Pot roast?”

“Well done.”

“Really?” Tess waggled her eyebrows. “Pot roast and meat loaf. Two very hearty meals. Impressive.”

“I bet you hang before you guess the third.”

Tess pierced a bit of salad and silently counted off the meals she’d guessed. “Barbecue ribs?”

“Add the second leg. I can barbecue as well as the next guy, but I wasn’t counting it. Slathering a rack of ribs with some sauce and enjoying a beer while it sizzles over the coals isn’t the same as preparing a meal from scratch.”

“True, I guess.” She pointed her fork his way. “Don’t tell me. I’m going to get this.” She was halfway through a bite of salad when she smacked her palm against the table and hurriedly swallowed. “OMG, I’ve got it. I’ve totally got it. I know your third meal, Mason…” Tess paused. “I know your third meal, but I don’t know your last name. How weird is that?”

Mason sat back in his chair and took a sip of wine, appraising her, his mouth pulled up in the crooked smile that she adored. “With that reaction, this is the all-or-nothing round. Get it right, you win. Get it wrong, that’s the arms, feet, hands, everything, and you’re hanged.”

“I’m okay with that, only what’re we playing for?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that. Something bigger than who does the dishes, that’s for sure.”

Tess agreed with him. “How about winner calls it?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth for two solid seconds before returning to her eyes. “Yes, definitely.”

Review

I really enjoy this series that centers around a pet shelter in St Louis.  This is the third book in the series and Tess was introduced in the second book, Sit, Stay, Love and I have to say I wanted to know more about her and her background so I was glad to see this was the next book in the series.  We also see many familiar characters such as Patrick, Megan, Kelsey, and Kurt.  I believe in the second book there was mention of Mason but I can’t remember for sure.

I find it interesting that Tess has no idea who Mason is and that he is a sports figure.  There are many clues but she does not pick up on any of them.  Her grandmother recognizes him instantly but for some reason decides to not say anything to Tess which is a good and a bad thing.  In the long run that doesn’t matter since Mason and Tess bond over their love of dogs and puppies that John Ronald leads them to in an abandoned warehouse.  John Ronald is a street dog that Mason has been feeding and knows will someday be his dog once he has built up the trust.

I enjoyed the times when the story is from John Ronald’s perspective.  It adds an interesting twist to the story and as a dog lover, I can only imagine what goes through any dogs mind.

This is a sweet romance that has its ups and downs for Tess and Mason, but it wouldn’t be realistic if there weren’t some issues and in this case, it is Mason not fessing up to who he is and what he does for a living.  I enjoyed the part where Tess reveals she is a vegetarian and Mason has to figure out what to cook and how to cook it for her.  Oh and his neighbor Georges adds an interesting twist to Mason’s life.

Enjoyable series and I can’t wait to read what comes next.  We give this 4 paws up.

About the Author

Debbie Burns resides in St. Louis, Missouri. Shelter is her first contemporary romance and has finaled in multiple contests. Her writing commendations include first place awards for short stories, flash fiction, and longer selections from the Missouri RWA and the Missouri Writers’ Guild.

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