Julie Elizabeth Powell's Blog, page 71
April 15, 2016
This is a release tour for River of Love by Melissa Foster
RIVER OF LOVE
Love in Bloom: Bradens at Peaceful Harbor Book 3
by
New York Times & USA Today bestseller Melissa Foster
River rafting and adventure company owner Sam Braden works hard and plays harder. He's fast, focused, and determined--and never at a loss for a willing woman to share his time with. The trouble is, the only woman he wants refuses him at every turn.
Physician assistant Faith Hayes escaped her painful past and built a safe, happy life in Peaceful Harbor. She's also put what she's learned to good use helping others by founding Women Against Cheaters, an online support group. When her boss's sinfully sexy brother sets his sights on sweet Faith, she knows the self-professed player is everything she shouldn't want, and she's determined to resist him.
Sam pulls out all the stops, proving to Faith that his past doesn't have to define his future. As she lets down her guard and begins to trust Sam, intense conversations turn to intimate pleasures. But when real life steps in and their pasts collide, it's Faith who's left with something to prove.
Chapter One
DUKE RYDER BALANCED his cell phone against his shoulder, listening to his buddy and investment partner Pierce Braden talk about their newest potential investment property as he followed the rickety wooden dock onto the white sandy beach.
A MAN COULD take a wedding for only so long before he drank too much booze or left with a warm, willing woman to wash away all that purity. Sam Braden stood with a drink in one hand and a greedy itch in the other, debating doing both.
“I’ll take the redhead if you want the brunette.” Ty, his youngest brother, lifted his chin in the direction of the bar. In addition to being a world-renowned mountain climber and photographer, Ty was also Sam’s carousing partner. “Unless you’re double-dipping tonight, in which case I’ll go for one of the Staley sisters.”
Sam scoffed. Been there, done them.
He spotted two blondes slinking across the dance floor toward them. He’d hooked up with the one who was currently eye-fucking him last month, and the redhead Ty had been ogling moments ago had joined them in their hot, sweaty romp. His gaze shifted to the sexy brunette standing by the bar looking like she wanted to jump over it and hide behind it but she couldn’t quite figure out how. Faith Hayes. He’d been trying not to look at Faith all night, but he was losing that battle. Faith worked in Sam’s brother Cole’s medical practice. She was sweet, and good, and smart, and… Sam should not be thinking about laying her on the bar and doing dirty things to her gorgeous body.
No. He definitely should not.
Every time he looked at her, every time he thought of her—which was every damn day—that feeling of wanting more than a few quick hookups resurfaced. He not only wanted to lay her down on the bar, but he wanted to take her home. That was bizarre, too, since as a rule Sam never took any woman to his cabin. But half his visits with Cole at his office were merely made-up opportunities to get a glimpse of Faith. He didn’t fully understand his fascination with her, considering he usually preferred the kind of woman who wanted to jump him and damn well knew how, but there was no denying the stirring inside him every time she was near. He forced himself to look away and focused on the dance floor, where Cole, their eldest brother, danced with his new wife, Leesa, and just beyond, their younger brother Nate and his fiancée, Jewel, were gazing into each other’s eyes. Weren’t they always? Sam used to get hives just thinking about being tied down—unless, of course, it was to a bed. But he couldn’t deny how happy his brothers seemed since they’d fallen in love, and lately he’d begun feeling as if he were missing out on something.
The tall blonde sidled up to Sam, blocking his view of Faith and blinking flirtatiously, while her friend joined Ty. “You boys look lonely.”
“Ladies,” Sam said smoothly, bringing his attention back to the pretty girls who definitely knew how to use their bodies for the good of mankind.
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes contemporary romance, new adult, contemporary women’s fiction, suspense, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café and Fostering Success. When she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success. Melissa has been published in Calgary’s Child Magazine, the Huffington Post, and Women Business Owners magazine.
Melissa hosts an Aspiring Authors contest for children and has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Melissa lives in Maryland with her family.
Visit Melissa on social media. Melissa enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups, and welcomes an invitation to your event.
April 13, 2016
This is a cover reveal for Provoked by Angela Ford
PROVOKED
by
Angela Ford
Official genre of book: Romantic Thriller
Her husband's actions provoked her but his death haunts her. Did Basia get away with murder?
Basia offers help to three abused women. Adam Crawford owns the Brownstone where these women live. Adam is fed up with the domestic disputes and drug deals in his building. One death at a time puts an end to both.
Six weeks after being shot, Detective Riley has one night of incredible passion and an agreement to first-names-only. He has no idea who Basia really is until he returns to work.
The case of a missing woman takes Riley to Adam's Brownstone and a manuscript titled The Perfect Poison. Could the man be doing more than collecting rent?
Secrets, lies, and hidden agendas bring Riley closer to the truth. The case opens doors Riley wished he'd left closed. Riley has fallen in love. But that scares him more than the horrifying truth he uncovers with the case.
His day usually entailed murder and drugs, not some missing person.
This is the last place I want to be.
As soon as he finished that thought, he saw them; those long legs coming toward him.
How could he forget? They’d been wrapped around his neck the night before.
He swallowed hard. His eyes traveled to meet those Mediterranean blues.
Riley could tell by the astonished look in her eyes, she was just as shocked as he. An introduction wasn’t necessary but she remained professional and awaited one.
“Detective Riley Briggs, welcome to the thirty-seventh precinct.”
Lieutenant Mark Fields introduced himself with a hand-shake then turned to the beautiful woman beside him. “This is Lieutenant Basia Lis from Forensics. She’s consulting on a case.”
If he’d still been in homicide, their paths would have crossed. But being undercover with the drug task force he no longer stayed on a scene long enough for the CSI to arrive. Then again, if their paths had crossed; he wouldn’t have had the pleasure of her in his bed. Riley didn’t mix business with pleasure. For the reason he didn’t like to see any woman twice.
Basia stepped forward and extended her hand.
“Detective”
She smiled differently than she had earlier that morning.
Then again she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Riley shook her hand.
“Lieutenant”
Angela Ford originates from Nova Scotia…Canada’s Ocean Playground!
Her love of the ocean and sunsets are always in her heart and give her inspiration. Her love for words keeps her turning the page. She is never without a book, whether she’s reading or writing. Now residing in Ontario, Angela works in Finance – numbers by day – words by night. Her dedication to volunteer and involvement with cyber safety seminars gave her an Award of Distinction and sparked the idea for her first book Closure – suspense with a dash of romance that hit the best- selling Action/Adventure and Women’s Fiction. Angela continued this FBI suspense with Forbidden and will deliver the final of the series in 2015. She also writes contemporary romance, sometimes sweet…sometimes spicy and sometimes with a dash of suspense. Unforgettable Kiss delivers a spicy romance with a dash of suspense. Blind Tasting of The Love List series and The Christmas Wreath of the Forever Christmas series are sweet reads. 2015 kicked off with a new Romantic Suspense Surrender.Between two jobs, being a mom with a home always filled with young adults and rather interesting stories; she is lucky to have one very patient and understanding man. But it is the furry family members who rule the house – a Puggle (Pug/Beagle), a new Chug puppy (Pug/Chihuahua) and two loveable cats. Every possible quiet moment she finds, she treasures and just writes about the moments to come. Angela is an avid reader of romance, a member of the RWA, KOD (Kiss of Death – Suspense Chapter) and Mississauga Writers Group. You can follow her at BTGN www.bookstogonow.com or visit her website/blog Romantic Escapes at http://www.angelafordauthor.com to connect with her on her social network sites. She loves to hear from her readers – they keep her smiling!
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This is a release tour for Corralling Kenzie by Joanne Jaytanie
CORRALLING KENZIE
The Winters Sisters series Book 4
by
Joanne Jaytanie
Official genre of book: Romantic Suspense with paranormal elements
Will Kenzie ever find peace and security inside the corrals of her ranch again?
Kenzie Vaughn is lucky to have a big-city, big-paycheck position. But her great job serves as nothing more than the path to her dream: a horse boarding and training ranch outside the big city. Kenzie is a horsewoman who loves Dobermans and peaceful country living. Now she’s found the perfect ranch, right next door to a lovely campus that houses the Winters Corporation. Her luck is holding, for the Corporation is run by the Winters’ sisters, wonderful women who could easily grow to become great friends.
One night her peace was shattered by a gunshot that wounded her horse, Boone. Good thing for Kenzie, Victory Winters is a veterinarian. Still the gunshot was no accident, and Kenzie’s past and the Winters’ present are dangerously intertwined. Kenzie is sucked into a vortex of rogue scientists who only want her for her DNA. Fortunately, the Winters Corporation can help. Even better, a Special Ops team member, Logan Mendoza, is assigned to watch her ranch. He isn’t interested in Kenzie’s DNA; he wants her for much more. Logan takes Kenzie’s personal security personally.
Will corralling Kenzie become Logan’s full-time mission?
“Kenzie, you’re ice cold, your hair and clothes are soaked. Let me help you into a nice hot shower. When you are finished, I’ll have a hot cup of tea waiting,” Victory said.
Kenzie merely nodded her head and stood up. Victory guided her up to her bedroom and shut the door behind them. Logan pressed a speed dial number on his cell.
“What the hell, man? This better be life or death. I just hit the bunk two hours ago,” Jack’s groggy voice answered.
“It will be. Yours if you don’t drag yourself from your warm, cozy bed and get your ass to your computer as soon as humanly possible.”
“Shit. Now what?” Jack sounded awake now.
“Victory and I have spent the last two-and-a-half hours at her neighbor’s. Someone shot her horse, and while we were dealing with the injured animal, the shooter tossed her house. Too soon to tell if they took anything yet; however, she did notice one of the family photo albums is missing.”
“Are you saying that diseased Kaleidoscope Group and their madman of a chairman are spreading their terror out onto the surrounding neighbors?”
“I don’t know anything for sure. All I can say is, this doesn’t feel like the run-of-the-mill smash and grab. I need you to start a search on ‘Kenzie Vaughn.’ Victory and I will be staying here for a while longer. We are going to suggest she contact the police to report the attack.”
“What the hell for, man? All they’ll do is muck up the works.”
“At least while they’re doing that, Kenzie will have someone out here watching out for her.”
“Ah, I see your point. You can’t get her to come to the campus?”
“Victory only met her tonight. What would we say to her? When are Wyatt and Tristan scheduled to return?”
“Not until the day after tomorrow.”
“Okay. Send them a text. Tell them we have a potential 9-1-1. Let’s get a meeting scheduled for tomorrow.” Logan looked at the time on his phone, nearly four in the morning. “It would be great if I could get a little nap before then.”
“You and me both,” Jack grumbled as he disconnected the call.
Catch up with The Winters Sisters.
Joanne was born and raised in Sherburne, New York, a quaint village surrounded by dairy farms and rolling hills. From the moment she could read she wanted to explore the world. During her college years she slowly crept across the country, stopping along the way in Oklahoma, California, and finally Washington State, which she now proudly calls home. She lives with her husband and Dobermans, in their home located on the Kitsap Peninsula with a panoramic view of the Olympic Mountains.
Joanne writes romantic suspense, paranormal, and contemporary romance. She loves to submerge herself in the world of her characters, to live and breathe their lives and marvel at their decisions and predicaments. She enjoys a wide variety of books including paranormal, suspense, thriller, and of course romance.
Joanne is a member of Romance Writers of America, and past President of Peninsula Romance Writers, which was Debbie Macomber's home chapter.
This is a release blitz for The Guardian by Jacquie Biggar
THE GUARDIAN
Book 1 of the Mended Souls series
by
Jacquie Biggar
Official genre of book: Paranormal romantic suspense
Restitution begins with the truth.
Lucas Carmichael and Scott Anderson had it all, money, fame, and fortune. But one night's stupid mistake takes everything they thought they cherished and dumps it upside down.
A car accident ends Lucas' life and leaves Scott injured and bitter.
As the local ME, Tracy York, investigates the case, discrepancies begin to point to more than a simple drunk driving incident.
When threats are made to Tracy's life can Scott and his guardian angel, Lucas, protect her, or will she become another casualty?
Tracy watched those lips that had fueled thousands of fantasies edge nearer and wondered if she was going to hyperventilate. Scott Anderson was about to kiss her. How had this happened? And even more, how was she going to go back to her normal, everyday life after he left?
Then his mouth touched hers and everything went into slow-mo. Every inch of skin became incredibly sensitized, even the follicles of her hair. It was crazy. And wildly exhilarating. He smelled of wine and chocolate and she was never going to get over him.
His hands delved into her hair, holding her head in place for his kisses. And there was a reason he was a movie sex symbol, the man could kiss. Her toes curled and her fingers flexed against his broad chest. The heat radiating from his big body acted like an aphrodisiac, lulling her mind and rejuvenating her body.
I live in paradise along the west coast of Canada with my family and love reading, writing, and flower gardening. Oh, and I can't function without coffee! Preferably at the beach with my sweetheart. :)
I write Romantic Suspense with tough, alpha males who know what they want until they're gob-smacked by heroines who are strong, contemporary women willing to show them what they really need is love.
I've been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoy writing romance novels that end with happy-ever-afters.
This is a relaunch tour for King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court by Kim Iverson Headlee
KING ARTHUR'S SISTER IN WASHINGTON'S COURT
by
Mark Twain as channeled by Kim Iverson Headlee
Official genre of book: Science Fiction - Fantasy crossover
WINNER 2016 IBPA Benjamin Franklin Gold Medal for Science Fiction & Fantasy.
Morgan le Fay, sixth-century Queen of Gore and the only major character not killed off by Mark Twain in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, vows revenge upon the Yankee Hank Morgan. She casts a spell to take her to 1879 Connecticut so she may waylay Sir Boss before he can travel back in time to destroy her world. But the spell misses by 300 miles and 200 years, landing her in the Washington, D.C., of 2079, replete with flying limousines, hovering office buildings, virtual-reality television, and sundry other technological marvels.
Whatever is a time-displaced queen of magic and minions to do? Why, rebuild her kingdom, of course—two kingdoms, in fact: as Campaign Boss for the reelection of American President Malory Beckham Hinton, and as owner of the London Knights world-champion baseball franchise.
Written as though by the old master himself, King Arthur’s Sister in Washington’s Court by Mark Twain as channeled by Kim Iverson Headlee offers laughs, love, and a candid look at American society, popular culture, politics, baseball... and the human heart.
The wench’s smile looked indulgent, if a bit saddened. “Queen Morgan, may I offer an observation?”
“Pray, proceed, Darla, as I seem to have paid for it.”
“This is about a man—the dishy one you’re always coming in here with.”
“Brilliant. Yes, the dishy one. Dishy, and treacherous.” I took a long pull of bitters.
“Lor’ love ye, madame; but all men are treacherous! If you’re lucky, that’s all he is.”
I reflected, through another draught, upon this spot of rough wisdom. Of all the men I had ever known, biblically or not, in this century or any other, the only man I could not label as “treacherous” was Sir Galahad, and we all know what happened to him. For the couple of you who might not be privy to the story: in brief, Sir Galahad drank from the Holy Grail and fell down dead, reportedly because his soul was so pure that Our Lord God bustled him straightaway to heaven. The fact that Sir Galahad had always acted so damned self-righteous that his Grail-hunting companions had wearied of his holier-than-thou ways probably had nothing whatever to do with his demise. I said:
“I have treachery aplenty in my life, Darla.” Free agents, not-free agents, other players, managers, coaches…the list seemed endless. “I do not need more from Sandy Carter.”
“But you do need his love.”
I shook my head. “With love like that…”
She was not listening, but had looked toward the line of tall windows fronting the street, across which arched the words “nnI dleiftuO” and, in a revolving pattern of white, blue, and red tube-lights, “NEPO.” I would have taken umbrage at the offense—the server’s, not the fact that the words in the windows appeared backward to my vantage—but I had imbibed too much beer to care.
Darla said, “You need his love…and he needs yours. Look.”
KINDLE VERSION
Jennifer Doneske & Tom Doneske developed the interior illustrations. Jennifer also developed the papercover and hardcover dust jacket.
PAPERBACK VERSION
HARDCOVER VERSION
Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, Great Pyrenees goat guards, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet. She has been an award-winning novelist since 1999 (Dawnflight first edition, Sonnet Books, Simon & Schuster) and has been studying the Arthurian Legends for nigh on half a century.
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April 9, 2016
This is a pre-order blast for Take Two by Traci Hayden
TAKE TWO
A Picture Perfect Novel
by
Traci Hayden
Official genre of book: Contemporary Romance
Beth Huntley, photographer and devoted bachelorette, doesn’t believe in true love. Too much hurt and disappointment has left her hiding behind the camera. All she can see is a black and white world through the lens.
William Lorde, widower and father, was once an open and carefree man. The loss of his wife has left him wrapped up in the needs of his little girl. He can no longer see the colors of the world as he struggles each and every day.
What happens when these two similarly different people meet and help each other to step out of the world they’ve created for themselves? Will they find a love that helps them heal from the past, enjoy their present and create a beautiful future?
William
I watched the interaction between them through the camera lens. Beth wrapped her fingers around Angel's tiny hands, pulling her up onto her feet. Beth took a step backward, lengthening the distance between them. Angel looked down at her feet, almost willing them to move. Her leg came up, moving her foot forward in a jerky motion. Her foot landed on a patch of grass, crushing it beneath her. She looked up at Beth, her eyes wide in amazement. She giggled as Beth stepped backwards again. She looked down and pulled her leg up, then realized she couldn't move that one forward without losing her balance. She put her foot back down and raised the other leg. A smile spread across her face as she continued this beautiful dance with Beth.
They made their way slowly back to the blanket. When they were almost within arm's length of me, Beth twisted around, so she was behind Angel. I stretched out my hands towards Angel, waiting to see if she would make the attempt on her own. So many things happened at once. Beth loosened her grip on Angel, Angel took an unsupported step forward, and Angel spoke her first real word as she reached out for me. "Dada!" Her tiny voice was clear and her tongue and lips formed the word precisely.
I was almost numb from the shock. Angel had made so many incoherent sounds over the months, but it had never been like this. She’d recognized me and had come to the realization that the word and I were connected. She repeated the word again and again as she took another unsupported step towards me. Then something grabbed her attention, throwing her concentration off. She lost her balance and grew quiet as she began to fall forward. I reached out, wrapping my hands protectively around her waist, pulling her into my arms.
I fell back onto the blanket, playing airplane with Angel above me. Her face morphed into so many different forms of joy and I laughed. She was such a happy child, and I swore to myself she would always be happy and loved. She would never know sadness or disappointment, not if I could help it.
✯ This book is specially discounted till one week after publication. Get your copy today. ✯
My love for books began at a very small age. I lived inside the many worlds the local library could provide. The characters within those pages were my companions and my support when I needed someone most.
My imagination began to soar as I grew. I began writing small poems as a teenager, but never thought much about publishing or expanding beyond put my words to paper.
After my children were born our love for a certain TV show fueled my love for writing. Using my children as inspiration, I began to write fanfiction, my children being the characters within the stories.
My passion for putting words to paper (or screen as is the norm now) has turned from passion to obsession. I've made some incredible friends through this journey and in turn, have become not only an author but a promoter and supporter for those whose imagination dreams character and worlds that I can lose myself in.
I thank my precious children, my beautiful soul-mate and my forever sister and best friend for being my constant rock and support as I continue to walk this road called life.
This is a release tour for (Not So) Good in a Room by Dakota Madison
(NOT SO) GOOD IN A ROOM
California Dreamers Romantic Comedy Series Book 1
by
Dakota Madison
Official genre of book: Romantic Comedy
(NOT SO) GOOD IN A ROOM, a romantic comedy novella by USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison, is a modern reimagining of Cyrano de Bergerac.Awkward screenwriter Nellie Berg is great with words, as long as she can write them down. She’s written over thirty action scripts, but has been unable to sell a single one to Hollywood. Instead of working the room, every time Nellie tries to pitch her scripts to producers she becomes overcome with anxiety and completely blanks out.
When Nellie meets another aspiring screenwriter, Roscoe Rhodes, at Pitchfestapalooza they form an unlikely friendship. Roscoe is everything Nellie is not: outgoing, witty, charming…and good in a room. Roscoe suggests that Nellie hire his cousin, Chris, an unemployed actor to pitch her scripts to producers.
Things get complicated when Nellie falls for Chris and she seeks Roscoe’s help to seal the deal. Roscoe realizes he actually has feelings for Nellie. And Hollywood falls in love with the hot the new pretend screenwriter, who has never even read an entire script let alone written one.
When I finally make it out of the ballroom and into the hotel lobby I do my best to compose myself, but to no avail. I’m definitely going to throw up.
I hurry into the ladies room and just make it to the toilet before I begin to dry heave. My stomach was so twisted with nerves I couldn’t eat anything all day so there’s nothing of any significance to come up.
Tears begin to stream down my face and within moments I’m a sobbing heap of hopelessness on the bathroom floor. I allow myself to release all of the tension I’ve been holding in and wail for several minutes. When I finally feel like I’ve cried the well dry I take in what I hope will be a deep, calming breath.
Will I ever be able to pitch without experiencing complete and utter terror? How will I ever make it in the business if I can’t?
You have to pull yourself together, Nellie.
A knock on the stall I’m occupying startles me.
Then I hear a female voice say, “Is everything okay in there?”
“Fuck off.” The harsh words pop out of my mouth before I have a chance to stop them. I don’t mean to be rude, but it seems to happen a lot.
I hear the sound of footsteps as whoever I just swore at scurries out of the bathroom.
As I pull myself up from the floor I hike up the white tights that have gathered at my knees. I do my best to smooth out the wrinkles in the black and white polka dot dress I’m wearing.
I slowly step out of the stall and glance around the bathroom just to make sure it’s empty.
I would glance at myself in the mirror, but I know it would just make me feel worse than I already do. Not only would I be a failure, I’d be a hideous looking one as well. I’d like to at least be able to function under the illusion that I’m not completely repulsive looking.
Unfortunately my body isn’t quick enough for my brain. I catch a glance at my reflection in the mirror as I pass by. It’s even worse than I imagined it would be. Calling me frightening looking would be a compliment.
I give my reflection the middle finger as I walk out of the bathroom.
I must still be in a post-anxiety-attack fog because I don’t even see the young producer I attempted to pitch to until I plow right into him.
“I’m so sorry.” I’m surprised when coherent words actually come out of my mouth this time.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“No,” I sputter as I hurry away before I embarrass myself even further.
I scan the large lobby. It’s packed with lines of screenwriters waiting to pitch to producers. There’s one dark corner on the opposite side of the crowded area that looks like a safe zone where I can hide and catch my breath.
I close my eyes for a moment and rub my temples. I’m probably ten minutes away from a major headache on top of everything else.
When I open my eyes I see a very tall guy headed in my direction. Of course I’m only five feet tall, so nearly everyone on the planet over the age of ten is taller than me, but this guy is like a giant. His hair and eyes are as dark as mine, but his are on a much more attractive package.
For some reason the guy is waving a pack of gum at me.
“Want a piece?” he asks.
In a room filled with hundreds of people why on Earth has he singled me out? And why would he think I want gum?
He waits for several moments and stares at me. When I don’t reply he says, “No gum I guess.”
“Please go somewhere that isn’t here.”
He frowns. “Like you own Pitchfestapalooza.”
“Find your own corner,” I hiss.
I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t budge. He continues to stare at me, like he’s examining a specimen.
I shoot daggers at him hoping he’ll take the hint.
“Fine, I’ll go. Sorry for invading your personal space.”
When he takes off into the sea of emerging screenwriters I breathe a small sigh of relief.
Don’t you just love that term? Emerging screenwriter. It’s a nice way to say wannabe.
That’s what we are. Wannabes. Every person here is scrounging for that one break that will finally get him or her into the business.
I can’t waste my one shot at finally making my dream come true.
I remove my one-sheet from my handbag and stare at it. I’ve gone over my logline and story synopsis thousands of times. I’ve got every word on the page memorized. I have no idea why I can’t just say the words when I actually sit down to pitch.
I have to do this. I have to at least try again. I’d never be able to live with myself if I gave up so easily.
I shove my one-sheet back into my handbag as I make my way over to one of the lines of writers waiting for the opportunity to meet with an action film producer.
Pitchfestapalooza is run like a well-oiled machine. I have to give credit where credit is due. Screenwriters line up to meet with producers by genre and lines keep moving at a fairly brisk pace. It’s set up a little like speed dating, but we’re pitching producers for deals, not trying to score with the opposite sex.
Luckily the line I’ve selected isn’t that long. It’s about half as long as the lines for the screenwriters pitching horror scripts or comedy projects. I’m not surprised that I’m the only female in line. It’s pretty well known that there’s sexism in the film industry, but it seems to be even worse when it comes to action movies.
But I love the genre, and even though I have a vagina, I can’t see myself writing anything else.
I don’t realize until he turns around that I’m standing right behind the tall guy who offered me the gum.
He flashes me a charismatic smile. The type of grin you might see on a used car salesman or politician.
Why do I get the feeling this guy could sell dirt to a farmer?
“So what do you have against gum?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“Then it’s me you don’t like.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Then let’s remedy that situation right now.” He extends a hand for me to shake. “I’m Roscoe Rhodes.”
I’m sure he’s wondering why I’m not returning the gesture. I don’t like touching people I don’t know. It’s one of my numerous obsessions.
He waits for a long moment. When it’s obvious I’m not going to shake his hand he says, “You know, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”
“My name’s not Dorothy.”
“At least I got you to say something.”
“Nellie Berg,” I tell him. “And how did you know I’m from Kansas?”
“I didn’t. You’re dressed like Dorothy Gale. What’s up with that outfit?”
I look down at my black patent leather shoes, white tights, black and white polka dot skirt. Then I glance around me. Everyone else is wearing dress jeans and button-down shirts with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Somehow I must have missed the screenwriters’ attire memo.
So in addition to being a bundle of nerves I look completely and totally out of place. Isn’t that just great for my self-esteem?
“You know this producer only makes action films,” Roscoe says.
I don’t even try to hide my scowl. “I know that.”
He points to another line directly across the lobby from us. “The line for romantic comedy is over there.”
“So?” I glare at him.
“Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable over there?”
“You mean somewhere where there isn’t a misogynistic jerk standing in front of me?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve written a script for an action movie?”
As I shake my head defiantly I wonder why I’m even talking to this asshole.
“Then what are you doing in this line?” His condescending tone is really starting to piss me off.
“I’ve written scripts for thirty action movies.” Choke on that you prick.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“You don’t strike me as the type who would be interested in writing action scripts.”
“And why is that? Because I’m female? Have you bought into the sexist notion that women can’t write action scripts?”
I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him. As much as I’d like him to crawl into a hole somewhere he stares right back at me.
“Maybe it’s the pink polka dot purse you’re holding. That just screams action film. Or the outfit you’re wearing. If Shirley Temple and Dorothy Gale had a love child she would dress like you. Except you look more like a Munchkin with your little round face and tiny body.”
I can feel my face heat with embarrassment. This guy just says whatever he thinks, doesn’t he. “You know that’s really insulting.”
“Munchkin,” he repeats.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say, Munch. You look like one of the dolls from the cabbage patch. I just want to put you on a shelf.”
“I consider that a micro-aggression.”
“Boo-hoo. What are you going to do? Call the PC police because I hurt your feelings?”
“You’re kind of a jerk.”
“Everyone says I’m charming.”
This guy is definitely no prince. “I guess everyone is wrong.”
USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.
This is a release tour for Wedding Day by Erin Bevan
WEDDING DAY
by
Erin Bevan
Official genre of book: Contemporary Romance with Mystery/Suspense undertones
Famous Bull Rider Dallas Day met Cassie Bailey briefly in high school, but her plain looks and quiet personality left no lasting impression on him. Cassie, however, couldn’t say the same about Dallas.
Their paths cross again ten years later when Dallas is home recovering from an injury, and Cassie is the only veterinarian who volunteers her services at the home-town rodeo. She’s jump-starting her new practice, and every eligible man within a ten-mile radius is trying to land a date with the attractive vet.
Dallas’ older brother bets him that, even with all his charm and fame, Dallas can’t land a date with the reserved lady vet. Not one to turn down a challenge, Dallas makes it his mission to win a date with Cassie. After seeing her, he realizes they’ve met before, but he doesn’t remember her being so pretty. His persistence pays off, but when Cassie finds out about the bet, their new love is put to the test.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” A deep voice asked from behind her.
“No, I think we have it.” She hopped down from the pen. Glacier blue eyes locked with hers. She would know his eyes anywhere. Her heart quickened just as it did the first time she’d ever laid her gaze upon him, and a tingling sensation shot through her.
Dallas looked older than she remembered, broader, gruffer, but still sexy.
Tucker, you have Tucker.
Where was he, anyway? In her haste to get ready, she’d forgotten to call him.
“Dallas? Yeah, we can use a hand.” Chevy still fumbled with the lock. “Can you come over here and help me with Knuckle Head? Dr. Bailey wants him to walk around so she can get a closer look.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary--”
“I would love to help. That’s why I’m here.” Dallas jogged to the front of the bull and grabbed the lead rope with his left hand. A plastered cast circled his right wrist and rose halfway up his forearm.
She turned to Spencer and furrowed her brow.
Spencer stared back at her and displayed her pageant winning 2005 Miss Frisbee smile, her thumb up in the air. Some friend she was.
Dallas and Chevy led the bull out of the pen while she observed the bull’s gait.
“Let’s get him over by a water hose. I want to get a closer look at his foot.” She pointed toward a washing station and followed behind the men as they led the bull, sure to steer clear of Knuckle Head’s hind legs in the event he wanted to kick her.
From her position, she had a clear view of Dallas’s backside. Everything appeared to be as tight as she remembered, which did nothing to settle those distracting tingling sensations.
Focus.
Erin Bevan was born and raised in Southwest Arkansas. She spent her teenage years working for her aunt at the local gas station flipping burgers and making milkshakes, dreaming of the day when something better would come her way, and it did in the form of a five foot six, one hundred and fifty pound engineer.
Fast forward ten years later, she found herself stuck inside an apartment in South Korea while her daughter went to preschool and her husband went to work. Alone and unable to speak the local language she turned to books for a friend. After reading a few hundred in such a short time, she decided to try her hand at writing one.
That first one sucked, but by the fifth and sixth book, Erin started to get the hang of this writing thing. Getting the first contract in the mail was a dream come true. Now, with three babies at home, she squeezes in stories one word at a time, one sentence at a time, one day at a time.
She’s a full time mom, a full time wife, with a little writer sprinkled in whenever she can get the chance. And the laundry? Well, it’s best not to open the washroom door!
April 8, 2016
This is a promo tour for GUILTY SECRETS by Jean Hart Stewart
GUILTY SECRETS
by
Jean Hart Stewart
GENRE: Historical Romance Suspense
Can love really conquer all? Escaping her cruel father’s home had been difficult, but not as difficult as evading her feelings for Adam, her rescuer and the powerful Earl of Landry. Corry disagrees with him on his political views, but cannot help melting in his arms. Their marriage is passionate, although Adam’s dreadful nightmares are a barrier she cannot breach. But when danger strikes Corry and her sister Sarah, Adam is the one she turns to. Adam is frantic to save the woman he has come to love. But is their love strong enough to make him finally reveal his guilty secrets?
Corry awakened with a start, sitting up in bed and grabbing the bedspread tightly. Then she heard it again, a loud moaning sound, the sound of someone in agony. She heard a hoarse voice shouting, but she couldn’t make out the words.
With horror she realized it was coming from Adam’s room. She wrapped her thin nightrail around her and grabbed a candle. She pushed open the door between their rooms, one she had not opened before, and was at the side of his bed quickly, where she found Adam thrashing like a soul pursued by demons from hell.
She could make out a few words now and then. “No, no, kill me too,” and then some indecipherable mumbling. He jerked straight up in bed, his face contorted like that of a man fighting the devil for his very life. “I don’t deserve mercy, don’t spare me.”
His words made no sense at all. She tried to hold him, but he struggled against her, and she did the only thing she could think of. She crawled in his bed and wrapped him as tightly as she could in her arms. He was naked, his body sweaty and clammy at the same time, and thrillingly powerful as he writhed against her.
She never saw Parkins come to the door and then quietly slip away.
She knew only one way to comfort Adam, so she began to caress him, running her hands up and down his back, and whispered to him how much she enjoyed what they did together. She felt him begin to quiet, and then she knew that he was now awake.
“Corry! My God, what have I done? Why are you in my bed?”
He sat upright and sounded so angry she was momentarily dumfounded.
“You were having a nightmare, and I came to try to comfort you. I guess it was the wrong thing to do.”
She knew she sounded stiff and hurt, and she loosened her arms and started to climb out of the bed. He stopped her instantly. He threw his arms around her and lay her on her back, burying his face in her breasts for a long moment before he spoke.
“I never wanted you to know about my nightmares. But I must say this one is ending far better than any I’ve ever had.”
His voice was strained and husky, as if it hurt him to speak.
I feel I'm very much a Californian although I was born in Ohio. California has been home for a good many years. Life changed drastically when I was six and my father died, incredibly from an errant golf ball. A dishonest insurance agent left us with little income and forced my sheltered mother to seek work, and she became a teacher. Her hours required me to be alone in the house most of the afternoon, and since I was forbidden to leave till my mother got home, I became an avid reader. The local library supplied most of the books and I fell in love with both Jane Austen and King Arthur.
Reading is still one of my favorite activities, although I often have to push it aside to make room for my even stronger love of writing. My journalism degree wasn't much use to me until recently. Marriage and raising two children pleasantly got in the way. After twenty years of being a real estate broker and with the kids raised I could finally devote my time to writing, my first love.
Few things in my life have been so satisfying, especially when all my books have a happy ending. Wonderful to make that happen. It only gets more interesting when a secondary character demands his very own book. Sometimes a new character is so noisy I just have to give in. Shouting inside my head can get my attention, believe me, and those guys are usually fun to write about.
This is a release tour for Never Trust a Skinny Cupcake Baker by D.E. Haggerty
NEVER TRUST A SKINNY CUPCAKE BAKER
Book 1 of the Death by Cupcake series
by
D.E. Haggerty
GENRE: Cozy mystery
A cozy mystery with a heap of laughs, a generous portion of romance, and just a smidgen of suspense.
Callie’s life is rather awesome. She owns a successful bakery and teaches German literature at the local university. There’s just one tiny problem. She has no self-confidence when it comes to her body. And then there’s the little matter of her being accused of murdering her pole dancing instructor. There’s no way Callie’s going to risk losing her teaching position and thus she embarks, with her best baker bud Anna, on a journey to discover the real killer. Between stripper auditions and a detective who insists Callie is the woman of his dreams, it’s a roller coaster adventure. Cupcakes not included.
I set my menu down. “You’ve never had sushi? Why’d you bring us here then?”
He shakes his head. “When are you going to get it into your head that I’d do anything for you?”
“The Tokyo earthquake of 1923 brought sushi into restaurants. Before that, sushi was just a street food, but the quake destroyed much of the city and that caused real estate prices to drop so that sushi chefs could afford real restaurants.” I clamp my hand over my mouth when I realize that I am once again spouting weird trivia because Ben’s words unnerve me.
Ben grins and shakes his head. Then, he surprises the daylights out of me by leaning over and giving me a hard kiss. “You are the sexiest nerd on the entire planet.” He picks up his menu again as if he didn’t just rock my world. “So, what should I order?”
I let his ‘sexiest nerd’ comment drop because there is no appropriate response to crazy. “Is there anything you don’t like?” He shakes his head. “Afraid of raw food?” Another shake. “Okay, let’s order a platter with a mixture of everything.”
He sets his menu down and nods. “Sounds good. Do you think it will fill me up?”
“Well…” I scratch my head and look at Ben’s massive shape. “Maybe we should order some tempura.” The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m taking them back again. “No wait, that’s a bad idea. I shouldn’t be eating that.”
“Why not? Are you allergic?”
“No, not allergic. Tempura is fried. I should stay away from anything fried.” I fidget in my seat, uncomfortable with my confession.
“Why?” He looks genuinely confused.
I roll my eyes at him. “Because I can’t afford to gain any weight. It’s bad enough I run a bakery.”
Ben captures my hands with one of his enormous hands and grabs my chin with the other one. “I said no more putting yourself down.” I start to protest, but he pinches my chin to quiet me. “You’re gorgeous. I love your curves. You look like a woman should. Man, you’re so sexy, it was all I could do to not drag you into your apartment and have my way with you when I arrived and saw you in that sexy as all get out dress.”
Finally, he’s quiet and I think I can get a word in edgewise. Ben’s not that easily deterred, however. He leans forward and stops any response I would have made with his lips. He nibbles on my bottom lip like I’m some kind of delicacy. When he thinks he’s made his point, he leans back and releases my chin although my hands are still encased in one of his over-sized mitts.
I hear a sigh behind me and look over to see Mikki. “Oh man, that was hot. Do not let him go, Professor Muller.” She flips open her order pad. “Now, what do you want to eat?”
I grew up reading everything I could get my hands on from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although I did manage every once in a while to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. Another job change, this time from lawyer to B&B owner, and I was again fed up and ready to scream I quit, which is incredibly difficult when you own the business. Thus, I shut the B&B during the week and in the off-season and started writing. Several books later I find myself in Istanbul writing full-time.
