D.V. Stone's Blog, page 39

Be careful Peeking Through Rosalie's' Window. She Writes Steamy

Before we Peek in Rosalie's window, be advised she is out of town on a secret mission. There may or not be cell or internet service. If you have a question or comment, be sure that after she's done saving the world in her superhero persona, she'll be happy to reply.  Who Hi, Rosalie Redd here! I write paranormal romance with alpha heroes and the women who tame them. My latest release is Love Bewitched, book 3 in the Gargoyle Night Guardians series featuring a love triangle between a witch, a gargoyle, and a fae. Who will she pick?

Interests My favorite activity is hiking and searching for waterfalls. I'm a waterfall collector, with my camera of course! 

Network I'm a member of Romance Writers of America. 

Desk My desk is one of those sit-stand types and is often cluttered with post-it notes that magically populate at the foot of my bed at night with great plot ideas for stories. Buried in their midst is my dog-earned Emotion Thesaurus. I don’t know what I’d do without it!
​
Outrageous I’ve been known to break out into song in the office when people least expect it.
 
Window, I can see my neighbors perfectly manicured yard. Hands down it’s the best in the neighborhood. I can’t compete, but at least I’m lucky enough to admire it every day!
A love triangle romance that will surprise you.
​Wynne’s had enough of tall, dark, brooding males that aren’t interested in her kind of love—the “until death do us part” kind. Attracted to unattainable men, she’s in uncharted territory when not just one, but two males show an interest in her. 

One’s a gargoyle with muscles of steel and a deep, sensuous voice to match. The other, a dark, seductive fae with a smirk that can melt panties. 

The problem? The men are on opposites sides of a war. 
​
Caught between the two, who will she choose?



Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085LS5821
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B085LS5821
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B085LS5821
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B085LS5821

Taking A Peek Through The Window of Charlotte O'Shay

​WHO
I’m Charlotte O’Shay. I write fast paced romance specializing in feisty heroines who can’t help falling for protective, slightly tortured alpha heroes. I usually write steamy, contemporary stories but I’ve ventured into suspense with my Indie story, MY ONLY ONE and sweet, historical with my upcoming novella ALWAYS, ALMOND FUDGE.
INTERESTS
I breathe to read and write. It’s the best job in the world and if I could do it 24/7, I would. I love to refinish/repaint and repurpose found furniture. Occasionally you’ll find me searching out carnival glass at a tag sale or exploring an old historical inn. Extra points if it’s near the beach. I enjoy finding new creatives whether farmers, painters, gardeners, photographers, or other writers. I’m inspired when I’ve been lucky enough to travel. Lately, my interests include planning safe get-togethers with my ever expanding family.
NETWORK
I’m published by the Wild Rose Press and I’ve loved getting to know the talented authors there but I’m not a joiner. I guess that’s the introvert in me. My network is my family, close friends, romance readers and writers I’ve met via my newsletter as well as fellow authors and readers I meet on social media. Even though I’m an introvert, I enjoy small in-person groups. I miss the energy of gatherings for writers like conferences, fairs, book cons.
DESK
Post-it heaven. Ice water and if it’s the morning, hot coffee in an insulated container. Unfortunately, also piled high with non-writer/real world stuff. I know where everything is. I’m not fearful of paper or files which is probably the lawyer in me. Framed photos, lucky stones I rub when words elude me. Notebooks with story ideas, edits and marketing info go into my author basket and a bookshelf of favorite books including writing craft books on the bookshelf to my right.
OUTRAGEOUS
I’m outrageously good at listening and observing.
WINDOW
In the city, all of our windows look out onto other buildings. I don’t look out the window as I write anyway, even if I’m at our home in the country. If I’m in, I’m inside my head. If I need a break or inspiration, I take a walk, preferably near the water. ​                                    
 Their No-Strings Affair is on sale at Amazon
 
Honey packs everything she owns and heads to NYC to jumpstart her art career. Her cheating boyfriend is history, and she finally acknowledges the truth of her mother's mantra: Careers are forever and happily ever after isn't in their DNA.

All she needs is a job and a place to live. What she doesn't need is a taciturn, sexy, ballbuster but she's woman enough to know the difference between need and want. Isn't she?

Jake's childhood was marred by tragedy and his future hijacked to a promise born of guilt. His failure drove him to a career as a SEAL and a security expert.
But it's not enough. Now he'll give up his freedom in reparation for the life he lost. Honey may be the last sweet stop on the road to a joyless future. If it's what they both want, where's the harm in a no-strings affair?

Author Charlotte O’Shay was born in New York City into big family and then married into another big family.
Negotiating skills honed at the dinner table led her to a career in the law.
But after four beautiful children joined the crowded family tree, Charlotte traded her legal career to write about happily ever afters in the City of Dreams. 
Charlotte loves to challenge her heroines and heroes with a crisis and watch them figure out who they are while they fall in love.
 
 Social Media Links:
 
WEBSITE  
INSTAGRAM
TWITTER
PINTEREST
FACEBOOK PAGE
BOOKBUB

A Peek Through the Window of Author Judy Ann Davis

WHO – Hello all! My name is Judy Ann Davis. I’m a Pennsylvania writer of contemporary and historical westerns, mysteries, and romances, often crossing and incorporating more than one genre. My full length novel, Four White Roses, published by the Wild Rose Press, has won three awards. With a degree in journalism and communications, I spent my career writing for the media, industry, and education before moving on to fiction. My signature tagline is “Writing romance with a touch of mystery”—and always, my books have a (HEA) happily ever after!
 
INTERESTS – Reading, writing, woodworking and golfing are some of my favorite activities.
 
NETWORK – I’m a member of Penn Writers and The Romance Writers of America. I’m an indie author as well as a Wild Rose Press author. I have social media presence on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, LinkedIn, my website, and my blog—“A Writer’s Revelations.”  
 
DESK – Oh, dear. I write from my laptop almost anywhere. My desk at home is semi-organized with a planner, a stack of small, colored note paper, Post-its, coffee warmer and coffee. I’m a color-coding freak and have colored files with labels. I love well-sharpened, #2 pencils and special BIC Atlantis pens with blue ink. I have the first dollar I earned in fiction writing framed.
 
OUTRAGEOUS – I used to play hooky from school to harrow the fields of our farm in late spring—and get a suntan before everyone else. I had to be off the field with the tractor and equipment before 4 p.m. when the school bus came through. (Keeping up with homework was never an issue. I graduated third in my high school class.)
 
WINDOW – My backyard is a verdant paradise. It’s a carpet of green grass. My covered patio, complete with a swing, is surrounded by tall zebra grass, day lilies, and high ferns along with four potted ferns hanging between the roof’s support posts. My husband and I have scores of bushes, flowers, and colorful perennial flowers around our yard, along with rag roses and blueberries.  It’s beautiful to see fall come with its many colors, but a little disheartening to see all the greenery disappear.
 


​HUCKLEBERRY HAPPINESS
 
In 1885, Emelia Stone and her sister must learn to operate their deceased parents’ bakery in a small town in Pennsylvania. A large mortgage looms on their family home. When her sister leaves town, Emelia is forced to handle the bakery and burden alone.
 
The Pennsylvania Railroad is searching for the perfect dessert for its passengers. Joe Sawicki, owner of Sawicki Brothers Ice Company, is certain Emelia can win the contest and the hundred- dollar bonus if she creates a special ice cream to accompany her popular huckleberry pies. He has loved her since they played hooky in grade school to explore the company’s ice cave.
 
Can Emelia find courage to stand up to the town’s bully to win the competition? And will Joe have the mettle to express his undying love and win first place in Emelia’s heart?
 
LINKS:
Amazon Author Page       Huckleberry Happiness     Blog
​​

A Peek Through Author Jana Richards Window

W ho – Hi, my name is Jana Richards. I write mostly contemporary romance with an emphasis lately on contemporary small-town romance. I guess that’s a case of my roots showing. Even though I’ve lived in a big city for over twenty years now, I come from a very small town (less than 700 people) and have lived in small cities of 10,000 and 5,000 people. Life is much different in a small town and I enjoy exploring that in my stories.Away from writing, I’m a bookkeeper in my part-time day job, a wife to my husband Warren, and mom to two adult daughters. Sadly, no grandchildren yet.
 
I nterests – I love reading, of course. I got a Kindle for Christmas so I’m having fun with that. I still have my old Sony reader that my husband bought for me back in 2008, which is eons ago in tech terms. But it still works, so I still use it. Lately, I’ve really gotten into audiobooks. It’s fun to be told a story, especially by a gifted narrator. And I love the convenience of being able to listen to a book while doing something else, like driving or working out at the gym. 
Another of my interests is yoga. I’ve been practicing yoga for many years and I’ve always enjoyed it, but through the pandemic it’s become a lifeline for me. When everything closed and I couldn’t go out much, my yoga classes were still there. My yoga instructor started offering classes through Zoom and I love it. I’ll be continuing with at home Zoom classes until the end of June, and then I guess we’ll see if the studio reopens.
 
N etwork – Right now, I’m a little disconnected as I’ve let my memberships in formal writing groups drop. I belong to an informal group of romance writers in my home province (I’m in Canada) and we keep in touch through Facebook. I’ve been a member of this group for over twenty-five years, even though I now live in another province. I usually connect with the group once or twice a year at a retreat, but this year, unfortunately, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to meet. We’re planning a virtual retreat through Zoom in an upcoming weekend. It’ll be great to see everyone, but it won’t be quite the same.
I also belong to the Word Wranglers. A group of six of us blog together about writing and life in general. We’ve become friends and enjoy talking to each other online. I’ve never actually met any of the other Wranglers in person, but I hope someday we can get together for a retreat or a conference. Ah, I remember conferences. Such fun.

D esk – You can pretty much count on my desk being a crazy mess 99.9% of the time. I keep saying I should clean and organize better but writing projects and cleaning other parts of the house keep getting in my way. At least that’s my excuse. One of these days I’m going to have make cleaning my office a priority. Really. I am.
 
O utrageous – I can do a mean Downward Facing Dog. It’s my favorite pose. I’m no spring chicken, so when it comes to flexibility, I think I’m doing okay.
 
W indow – My office window looks out onto a corner of our deck, our neighbor’s house and the fence between us. Not a very inspiring view, but I do what I can with it. In the summer I plant flowers in the flower bed next to the deck so there’s always a little color. In the winter the only color is white; the wind tends to whip the snow into frothy drifts that pile up against the house and the fence. This window is a nice, warm spot to watch a cold, nasty winter storm. *Note from D. V. 
I recently read and reviewed this book giving it ​

A Peek Through Arlene Culiner's Window

​
​W: My name is J. Arlene Culiner and I write what I want to read. I want to be transported to unusual settings. I want unconventional, passionate heroes and heroines, people who refuse the roles society sets out for them. I want to learn about things I don’t know — history, music, foreign countries, snakes, and spiders. And I need a good plot. 
Can discovery, adventure, and history be mixed with Contemporary Romance? Absolutely. That definitely happens in my latest romance, The Turkish Affair. 
My heroes and heroines are always over the age of 40 because I think falling in love later in life is more interesting. I also write unromantic mysteries, short stories, and narrative non-fiction, but that’s another world altogether. And, if anyone wants to listen in, I tell true stories right here on my podcast: https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner
 
I: I am also an amateur musician and play in several orchestras — one for 19th century classical music, and one in which we all play period instruments and music from the 17th century. I also play in two bands, and often get together with several friends to play duets, trios, as well as to gossip. What instruments do I play? Oboe, baroque oboe, baroque taille, English horn, tuba, flute, piccolo, recorder, and Breton bombarde (a very noisy bagpipe without the bag.)
 
N: Never will anyone encounter super-heroes or super-heroines in my stories. There will be no impossible rescues, no ideal families. For me, what’s important in a romance is reading about that first, very tentative gentleness, and those early stirrings of love.
 
D: My desk? Oh dear. It’s a disaster. So what? You should see what’s going on inside my closets, or garden, or pockets. Inside my head, nothing is very tidy either. Does it matter? Not to me.
 
O: I continue doing what I’ve always done, crossing Europe alone on foot, sleeping in fields, getting lost in snowstorms in countries where I can’t speak a word of the language. I’ve worked as a belly dancer in Turkey, as a storyteller on the radio in France. I’ve delivered newspapers in Germany, painted walls in Algeria. Most of my adult life, I’ve been a contemporary artist creating social critical work, and living in a former inn and café, in France. The inn closed a long, long time ago, but there are still strange things going on in all those rooms. Just click on a window: http://www.jill-culiner.com
 
W: What do I see outside my window at the moment? Nothing. Why? Because, I write in a closet, and there is no window. In here, it’s quiet enough for me to record my audiobooks. Is it raining outside? Snowing? Is there a flood, or a tornado? I have no idea. In this closet, a place of dark corners and shadow, I’m free to invent a whole world. And, I certainly have a whale of a time, too.
​The Turkish Affair
 
Priceless artifacts are disappearing from the ancient Hittite site of Karakuyu in Turkey, and the site director has vanished. Called in to solve the mystery, archaeologist Renaud Townsend is hindered by both his inability to speak the language and the knowledge that the local police are corrupt. His attraction to translator Anne Pierson is immediate, although he is troubled by her refusal to talk about the past and her fear of public scandal. But when murder enters the picture, both Anne and Renaud realize that the risk of falling in love is not the only danger.
 
Excerpt
 
A delicious breeze tickled the air, and the little boat rocked gently. A fine line appeared between his brows, and his blue eyes were, once again, serious. “I need your help.”
She stared. “My help? With what? Translating?”
“No. With something else. I have to find out who is behind the thefts at Karakuyu.”
The feeling of dread returned, but she forced herself to sound casual. “How could I possibly help you with that?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I suppose I just don’t want to feel that I’m alone in this.”
What could she say to that? Tell him she was the last person he should team up with? That long ago, she’d escaped arrest by the skin of her teeth? If she did so, this splendid moment would be over. The silver-foil glimmer of romance would be tarnished forever. He’d row back to shore, drive back to Gülkale, get rid of her as quickly as possible.
“Anne?” He reached out to caress her bare arm. “Come back from wherever you are.”
“You know nothing about me,” she said jaggedly.
“Nothing,” he agreed.
She swallowed. “I could be involved in the thefts for all you know. Why ask for my help? Why choose me?”
He smiled faintly. “A good question. I suppose, quite simply, I need—or want—to trust you.”
She felt utterly miserable. Why was life always like this? Wanting someone and not being able to have them? Wanting trust, but seeing it snatched away before it came close?
“Okay, then.” His voice was surprisingly tender. “If I promise not to probe into secrets, do I have the right to ask one question?”
She nodded with resignation.
“Can I trust you?”
The answer to that was simple enough. “Yes. Of course you can.”
His returning smile was radiant. “Good.”
She stared helplessly at the strong, angular features highlighted by the merciless sun. “That’s crazy. You’re willing to take my word for it? I could be lying.”
He leaned forward, cupped her chin in his hand, and met her gaze evenly. “No way. Not with a face as expressive as yours.”
 
Author Bio
 
Writer, photographer, social critical artist, musician, and occasional actress, J. Arlene Culiner, was born in New York and raised in Toronto. She has crossed much of Europe on foot, has lived in a Hungarian mud house, a Bavarian castle, a Turkish cave-dwelling, on a Dutch canal, and in a haunted house on the English moors. She now resides in a 400-year-old former inn in a French village of no interest and, much to local dismay, protects all creatures, especially spiders and snakes. She particularly enjoys incorporating into short stories, mysteries, narrative non-fiction, and romances, her experiences in out-of-the-way communities, and her conversations with strange characters.
 
Links
 
Web site: http://www.j-arleneculiner.com
Blog: http://j-arleneculiner.over-blog.com
Trailer: http://j-arleneculiner.com/page-2-book4-turkish4-video.html
Storytelling Podcast: https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner
 
Amazon Author page https://www.amazon.com/author/jarlene...
Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-arlene-culiner
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08...
The Wild Rose Press https://www.thewildrosepress.com/authors/j-arlene-culiner
Barnes & Noble : https://tinyurl.com/yx2lyg6v
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JArleneCuliner/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jarlene.culiner/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7158064.J_Arlene_Culiner
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jarleneculiner/
​

Peek Through Peggy Jaeger's Window

​ W ho: Hey, kids. I’m Peggy Jaeger and I write romcoms, small town romances, and contemporary romances about strong women, the families who support them and the men who can’t live without them. I’ve recently dipped my writing toe into the romantic suspense genre, too. My latest book, which releases today, is VANILLA WITH A TWIST, part of the summer romance novella series ONE SCOOP OR TWO from The Wild Rose Press
I nterests: People watching (in a purely nosy, not creepy way); restoring old steamer trunks by decoupaging them; hand-painting note cards for gifts and craft fairs; all things aging-skin care related – from dermal peels, to laser lights, to the newest in top of the line skin products. Hey, I’m 60. I gotta be proactive in the aging department, and knowledge = power, plus good skin!
N etwork. I’m a member of RWA, NHRWA (my local chapter), I’m a Wild Rose Press author, a LIMITLESS author, a KENSINGTON author, and a indie author. I’m also a retired Registered Nurse and a practicing Catholic (and I say practicing because I’m never gonna be an expert! Hee hee)
D esk. When I’m working on a new book it looks like a cyclone blew through the area. Reference books tossed all over it, my three daily calendars stocked on top of one another, various pens and markers scattered about, and I’ll always have an empty glass or cup (or 3 or 4) from forgotten soda, tea, and water. ( photo included)
O utrageous.  I once danced the night away at Studio 54 when I was in college in NYC and I can make the sound of a horse whinnying. Check it out, here: https://youtu.be/kFLLZ6B-1y8
W indow. Outside my attic office window I can see the seasons change in my woodland paradise. I live in the woods and I see – daily – turkeys, deer, squirrels, chipmunks, and birds scurrying about below me. ( photo included)
​

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop's machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn't had a day off in a decade and wonders if she'll ever be able to live a worry-free life.
Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher's Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy's shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.
Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?




Amazon // Nook  // Applebooks // Google play //Rakuten/Kobo



​For a few moments, she regarded him with a look his mother would have called insightful. The corners of her eyes narrowed, she dipped her chin a hair, and she pulled her mouth into another appealing pout he was tempted to kiss.
“I bet,” she said after a long, drawn-out sigh, “you were the kind of kid who took apart clocks and fans and vacuum cleaners to see how they worked.”
“It was more washing machines and lawn mowers and anything with a motor, but yeah. I was.”
She shook her head, her own lips forming a lopsided grin. “Your poor mother.”
“She survived.”
Tandy rolled her eyes and shot her hands to her hips. “So it’s working again?” She thrust her chin at the ice cream machine.
“For now.”
“Okay, well, I can live with for now. And you think you know the real reason it’s been acting up?”
“I definitely do. But like I said, the water to the machine needs to be shut off to fix it.”
“Okay. Well, we close at nine.”
“I’ll come back a little before then. Get things ready. Is that okay with you?”
“I guess it’ll have to be.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek as her brows pulled together. “And you’re sure you want to do this?”
“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t offer, Tandy.”
Why her reluctance to have him help was such a turn-on was something he considered while he waited for his ice cream. 

Website: http://peggyjaeger.com/
Blog: http://peggyjaeger.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peggy-Jaeger-Author/825914814095072?ref=bookmarks
Twitter: https://twitter.com/peggy_jaeger
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13478796.Peggy_Jaeger
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/peggy-jaeger
            YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDR8RRIlssIyS0FYZWeGqsg/videos?view_as=subscriber
 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/peggyjaeger_author/
Pintrest: https://www.pinterest.com/peggyjaeger/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/peggy-jaeger-296ab878/
 
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0
Authors database: https://authorsdb.com/community/15814-peggy-jaeger
Triberr: https://triberr.com/tribe/strong-women--loving-men
​

A Peek Through Viviana MacKades's Window

​WHO: I’m Viviana MacKade from South Florida. I was born and lived in Northern Italy for 27 years, then moved to the UK, spent 5 years there, and moved into the sun. I’m a wife to an alpha scientist, mom to a 6yo boy who is the sweetest and most monstrous kid ever, and waiting for our baby girl to arrive in late August (for whom my son takes all the owning. It’s his sister, not my and my husband’s child. He loves the idea of being a big brother, takes the job veeeery seriously.)
 
INDEPENDENCE: is the thing I value the most. To me, it is making my own choices and paying their price. Is that simple.
 
NOPE: Many things are not going to happen in my books. Characters will not spend pages and pages thinking and re-thinking the same things. My heroines might have little experience with men, but they are no man’s fool. My heroes can be alpha, but they know when to stop pushing.
Things move, sometimes too fast, and I have to be careful not to make it all about dialogue because (see next point),

DIALOGUE: I love it. I could write an entire book going only through it. Which I do, when I get impatient with the story. I write all of it for each scene, and then I put the extra stuff in there. You know, the other details like where the scene is happening, why, when…. I kinda have to. But I’m not crazy about it.

OUTRAGEOUS: I’ve never been an outrageous kind of person. I don’t like to stand out because I like to be left well alone and if you stand out, you simply can’t. Of course, when I open my mouth and my stance on things comes out, there’s bound to be someone noticing. At this point, one of two things will happen: they will love me or hate me. I’m good with either.

WINDOWS: My office’s window overlooks the street and the front of the house. I like that I can see the comings and goings (all the 3 cars that ride that little road on a good day, usually my neighbors’), I like how I can keep an eye on things. If my office were in the back of the house, I think I’d be a little anxious. 

SHUT UP: People forgot how to, and it’s a real shame. No, one’s opinion is not always needed. Or asked. Society as a whole should keep in mind the old saying, “if you don’t have something interesting or useful to say, then close your mouth”. Maybe it was if you had nothing nice to say, but I’d rather hear something unpleasant and true, instead of nice and false. For which, people should shut up.
Guns for Angles by Viviana MacKade
 
Ann
My sister was all the family I had. She was taken from me and now, someone wants me dead, too. Not sure why.
I’m sure I’m not going to give my life up, though. I’m not going to let them get away with my sister’s murder. 
The new me will try, anyway.
You see, when she was alive I could live in brightness and peace. Now I have to accept the darkness within me. After all, isn’t life about balance? Ironically, the man who can teach me how to embrace the shadows is broken, hopeless, and angry. Mark is also the only one I trust to lead me through my heart’s night, and back into the light. 
The one I trust to keep us alive.

Mark
A favor to a teammate: pick up two girls in trouble, take them to the Team’s safehouse. Should have been easy. It was not. 
Then someone killed one of my team, one of my brothers. Now it’s personal.
They want me, too. 
They want me, too. I can deal with that. But they want Ann. The only person who cut through me, who woke me, who grabbed my hand and guided me back into life one smile at the time. 
I’ll be damned if I let them have anything. 
Not. One. Damned. Thing.

From NY to sunny Miami, Ann and Mark run into a maze of lie, betrayal, and death, where love is the only, terrifying certainty. And when truth unravels, they will have to risk all to survive. 

~ All my books are on sale at 99 cents for the duration of the pandemic ~
 
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RYY569C
 
Exerpt
 
They entered a narrow hall, its bare walls painted in a subdued magnolia. At their left, an old, dark wooden staircase led upstairs. The veil of dust on the handrail carried fresh scars where hands had touched not long ago. A strange smell saturated the house, one Ann didn’t have a name for. It was out of place and mean. It reminded her of the last moments in her house, when those men had broken in shooting and screaming. Could fear smell? Could death?
At the end of the corridor, a door opened into a tiny bathroom. At its side, another door was ajar. The afternoon sun filtered through the crack, as if the room strained to contain all the light in it.
Mark’s face was detached, set into a mask as he prodded the door with his fingertips. More light poured into the hall.
Her heart rate rocketed as they waited at the door’s side. Ann wanted to scream to fill the silence.
Seconds ticked away. Drenched air mingled with fear ran down her neck in rivulets of sweat. Mark gestured her to stay and took a step inside the room.
She peeked from behind him, saw it was empty. A laugh crawled through the ball of fear at the base of her chest, asking to be freed, but her elation didn’t live long.
“There’s trouble in this house,” Mark told her in a tense whisper after looking around in the empty room. He walked out, moved toward the stairs with light strides.
Lightheaded, Ann followed him holding the piece of paper he’d given her as if her life depended on it. Funny that it might just be the case.
And they say paper and ink are useless, nowadays, she mused to herself.
At the top of the staircase, Mark opened the door with his foot; when nothing happened he stepped inside. Ann stayed behind him.
The upstairs was as big as the whole house. Ann let her eyes run over the filing cabinets, all lined up like little soldiers along the low walls, dutifully closed against prying eyes. An open skylight looked up into the blue sky where a lonely cloud plodded away, but no air came in from it to ease the heat. The walls were plain white up here, amplifying the light and the room’s emptiness.
A body lay on the floor. It swam in blood.
Ann’s mind didn’t recognize it at first, didn’t understand it, but at some point her brain caught up with her eyes. Her senses floated away to the sound of her own blood withdrawing from her head, the outline of her surrounding faded into white. A commanding, familiar voice called her but it was muffled, and too far away. When the white completely closed in, she let go.
Ann. It was Mark’s first thought when he saw Mouse’s body.
When he turned to take her away, to spare her other memories she shouldn’t cash in, it was too late. He would protect her from any harm but he had no power against what she saw.
She paled, her eyes lost focus, and then she went down
 
Author bio and links:
Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.
Find me:
The best way to know me is through my website (and the books I host):  http://www.viviana-mackade.blog/
The best way to see what I’m up to is through my Instagram account.
On FB
On Twitter
Amazon Author page
​

A Peek Through Viviana MacCades's Window

​WHO: I’m Viviana MacKade from South Florida. I was born and lived in Northern Italy for 27 years, then moved to the UK, spent 5 years there, and moved into the sun. I’m a wife to an alpha scientist, mom to a 6yo boy who is the sweetest and most monstrous kid ever, and waiting for our baby girl to arrive in late August (for whom my son takes all the owning. It’s his sister, not my and my husband’s child. He loves the idea of being a big brother, takes the job veeeery seriously.)
 
INDEPENDENCE: is the thing I value the most. To me, it is making my own choices and paying their price. Is that simple.
 
NOPE: Many things are not going to happen in my books. Characters will not spend pages and pages thinking and re-thinking the same things. My heroines might have little experience with men, but they are no man’s fool. My heroes can be alpha, but they know when to stop pushing.
Things move, sometimes too fast, and I have to be careful not to make it all about dialogue because (see next point),

DIALOGUE: I love it. I could write an entire book going only through it. Which I do, when I get impatient with the story. I write all of it for each scene, and then I put the extra stuff in there. You know, the other details like where the scene is happening, why, when…. I kinda have to. But I’m not crazy about it.

OUTRAGEOUS: I’ve never been an outrageous kind of person. I don’t like to stand out because I like to be left well alone and if you stand out, you simply can’t. Of course, when I open my mouth and my stance on things comes out, there’s bound to be someone noticing. At this point, one of two things will happen: they will love me or hate me. I’m good with either.

WINDOWS: My office’s window overlooks the street and the front of the house. I like that I can see the comings and goings (all the 3 cars that ride that little road on a good day, usually my neighbors’), I like how I can keep an eye on things. If my office were in the back of the house, I think I’d be a little anxious. 

SHUT UP: People forgot how to, and it’s a real shame. No, one’s opinion is not always needed. Or asked. Society as a whole should keep in mind the old saying, “if you don’t have something interesting or useful to say, then close your mouth”. Maybe it was if you had nothing nice to say, but I’d rather hear something unpleasant and true, instead of nice and false. For which, people should shut up.
Guns for Angles by Viviana MacKade
 
Ann
My sister was all the family I had. She was taken from me and now, someone wants me dead, too. Not sure why.
I’m sure I’m not going to give my life up, though. I’m not going to let them get away with my sister’s murder. 
The new me will try, anyway.
You see, when she was alive I could live in brightness and peace. Now I have to accept the darkness within me. After all, isn’t life about balance? Ironically, the man who can teach me how to embrace the shadows is broken, hopeless, and angry. Mark is also the only one I trust to lead me through my heart’s night, and back into the light. 
The one I trust to keep us alive.

Mark
A favor to a teammate: pick up two girls in trouble, take them to the Team’s safehouse. Should have been easy. It was not. 
Then someone killed one of my team, one of my brothers. Now it’s personal.
They want me, too. 
They want me, too. I can deal with that. But they want Ann. The only person who cut through me, who woke me, who grabbed my hand and guided me back into life one smile at the time. 
I’ll be damned if I let them have anything. 
Not. One. Damned. Thing.

From NY to sunny Miami, Ann and Mark run into a maze of lie, betrayal, and death, where love is the only, terrifying certainty. And when truth unravels, they will have to risk all to survive. 

~ All my books are on sale at 99 cents for the duration of the pandemic ~
 
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RYY569C
 
Exerpt
 
They entered a narrow hall, its bare walls painted in a subdued magnolia. At their left, an old, dark wooden staircase led upstairs. The veil of dust on the handrail carried fresh scars where hands had touched not long ago. A strange smell saturated the house, one Ann didn’t have a name for. It was out of place and mean. It reminded her of the last moments in her house, when those men had broken in shooting and screaming. Could fear smell? Could death?
At the end of the corridor, a door opened into a tiny bathroom. At its side, another door was ajar. The afternoon sun filtered through the crack, as if the room strained to contain all the light in it.
Mark’s face was detached, set into a mask as he prodded the door with his fingertips. More light poured into the hall.
Her heart rate rocketed as they waited at the door’s side. Ann wanted to scream to fill the silence.
Seconds ticked away. Drenched air mingled with fear ran down her neck in rivulets of sweat. Mark gestured her to stay and took a step inside the room.
She peeked from behind him, saw it was empty. A laugh crawled through the ball of fear at the base of her chest, asking to be freed, but her elation didn’t live long.
“There’s trouble in this house,” Mark told her in a tense whisper after looking around in the empty room. He walked out, moved toward the stairs with light strides.
Lightheaded, Ann followed him holding the piece of paper he’d given her as if her life depended on it. Funny that it might just be the case.
And they say paper and ink are useless, nowadays, she mused to herself.
At the top of the staircase, Mark opened the door with his foot; when nothing happened he stepped inside. Ann stayed behind him.
The upstairs was as big as the whole house. Ann let her eyes run over the filing cabinets, all lined up like little soldiers along the low walls, dutifully closed against prying eyes. An open skylight looked up into the blue sky where a lonely cloud plodded away, but no air came in from it to ease the heat. The walls were plain white up here, amplifying the light and the room’s emptiness.
A body lay on the floor. It swam in blood.
Ann’s mind didn’t recognize it at first, didn’t understand it, but at some point her brain caught up with her eyes. Her senses floated away to the sound of her own blood withdrawing from her head, the outline of her surrounding faded into white. A commanding, familiar voice called her but it was muffled, and too far away. When the white completely closed in, she let go.
Ann. It was Mark’s first thought when he saw Mouse’s body.
When he turned to take her away, to spare her other memories she shouldn’t cash in, it was too late. He would protect her from any harm but he had no power against what she saw.
She paled, her eyes lost focus, and then she went down
 
Author bio and links:
Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.
Find me:
The best way to know me is through my website (and the books I host):  http://www.viviana-mackade.blog/
The best way to see what I’m up to is through my Instagram account.
On FB
On Twitter
Amazon Author page
​

A Peek Through Iris Blobel's Window

​Who:
Hi, my name is Iris Blobel (pronounced Eeris). I’m a wife, a mother of two beautiful girls, best buddy to our dog Rocco, and writer of Contemporary Romance. I was born and raised in Germany and came to Australia about 20 years ago. My books are often based on my travels, ie my books are not only set in Australia, but also New Zealand, Ireland, and even the U.S. Currently I’m releasing the “Alinta Bay” trilogy which is set along the Australian Great Ocean Road. Book One “Defying Rules” was released in March, Book Two “Tell it to my Heart” is now available on pre-order. I’m hoping to have Book Three “Between Goodbye and Hello” online soon, too.
 
Interests:
I love travelling. Always have, and I consider myself very lucky that my husband likes to travel as well. We’re always planning a trip away, whether short or long. Of course, I like writing and reading, and since recently I can be found in the gym for some boxing once a week as well.
 
Network:
I’m a lousy networker. I’m semi active on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. I’d say if I’d to mention a network it’d be MFRW (Marketing for Romance Writer) – a sensational and very helpful group, and the Snippet Sunday FB group.
 
Desk:
One big clutter. Unfortunately. Time to get stuck into it and give it a big tidy up!
 
Outrageous:
LOL … I’m a big kid at heart, but is that outrageous? I love being silly, funny, positive … Love to stop and smell the flowers, love daydreaming … still not outrageous? I suppose I’m pretty normal then.
 
Window:
Looking out the window I can see our beautiful backyard, which is like a campground at the moment LOL. We’re currently in semi self isolation, so half the family sleeps in a camper trailer and the caravan. There’s also the shower tent, the shed, and the trampoline, my neglected vegie garden, and my seat swing. There’s our pizza oven under the pergola including our outdoor setting. We love our dinners out there.
​ TELL IT TO MY HEART
Confronted with the choice to care for his friend’s family on the other side of the world or to return to Alinta Bay to be with his own newfound family, how will Noah choose?
Following the death of his grandmother, Noah Fielding returns to Alinta Bay and the first thing — or person — he finds is the next-door neighbour in his nan’s bathroom — naked no less. Still jetlagged, he doesn’t hit it off with Molly at first. Yet, over the next few weeks, as his past uncovers itself bit by bit, she becomes is anchor, his friend, and his lover.
Molly Reid had the world at her feet, happily married with a young son … until a tragic car accident took everything away from her. With her heart broken, she moves to Alinta Bay to escape the memories of the past. Her peaceful existence, however, is interrupted after a heavy storm floods her house and she temporarily moves into her recently deceased neighbour’s house next door.
When Noah’s friend and partner goes missing during a routine flight, Noah returns to Alaska to help, but will he come back for Molly?

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bQ68rL
Website http://www.irisblobel.com/
Blog http://www.irisblobel.com/blog
Twitter https://twitter.com/_iris_b
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/IrisBlobel
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4067254.Iris_Blobel
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Iris-Blobel/e/B00FNFP3LI/

A Peek through Nadine Dandorf's Window

Who – I’m a Jersey girl through and through having grown up in the northwest corner of the state but my favorite place is the Jersey shore. I am a dark chocolate addict (who isn’t) and a fan of classic/hard rock and the NY Rangers (even if they did trade my favorite player). I love going to the movies but don't get to go as often as I'd like (which would be at least once a week if I could). I like to watch NCIS and anything on the History Channel, and while I can and do cook and bake (I am Italian after all), I am extremely messy and have decided, at this point in my life, that it’s entirely overrated. Thank goodness my husband isn’t fussy and our nest is empty.
 
Interests – When not at my full-time job or working on my final (?) story in the Adrian Reilly series, I like to garden, decorate, walk around our lake community, and read (of course). I have a three-year-old granddaughter in Minnesota who likes to FaceTime and a grandson on the way that I can't wait to meet in August. Retirement can't come fast enough so I'll have time to play all day.
 
Network – My reading and writing tastes balance suspense and romance so I am a member of the Romance Writers of America and their New Jersey chapter, and a member of the Kiss of Death chapter. I have a monthly newsletter on my website that includes reviews of books I've read and what I'm working on with periodic free giveaways. It's free and published once a month so I won't clog up your emails.
 
Desk – My writing desk shares my work desk which is very neat...it's the floor that's messy. I have piles with a hundred working drafts, research, writing reference books, and ideas for new stories. There's a method to the madness, but is not as organized as I would like. Not even close.
 
Outrageous – I have my own personal star! In 1998, my husband bought me a star for my birthday from the International Star Registry: andromeda RaOh5Om41sD22˚15'.
 
Window – I have two beautiful windows in my office that look out over our backyard and the birds, squirrels, and groundhog. We are surrounded by state watershed properties and sit on a path used by black bears. Last year we watched a beautiful mamma bear raise her three cubs as she traveled through our yard.
​ ​With blood the color of red, white and blue running through his veins, Adrian Reilly has dedicated his life to the Army and the brotherhood forged in the heat of Special Forces. But when his third Black Ops mission goes wrong, no one believes his accusation that he and his team were set up by none other than the man running counterintelligence operations at CIA, Charlie O’Donnell. Wrongfully discharged for his failure to lead, Reilly is secretly recalled after his Army brother is murdered and tasked with outing the puppet master and his minions. To clear his name and avenge the deaths of operations officers and soldiers alike, Reilly must bring hard evidence that will put O’Donnell away for life. But O’Donnell’s hand is far reaching and four years pass with Reilly no closer to the truth until a rogue sniper in O’Donnell’s nest of vipers, Trent Mariner, upends the game board and Reilly finds himself blindsided not only by the assassin's plans but by O’Donnell’s assistant, Daniella St. Sauveur, who is more than she appears to be. The discovery of O’Donnell’s ultimate plot comes at the greatest of prices and Reilly is left with the hardest choice of his life: stay with the woman he loves and be haunted by the guilt of forsaking his brothers, or leave her behind to finish his mission and stop Mariner before the world is thrown into political and religious chaos. Links – You can find me at 
www.nadinedandorfauthor.com,
 www.facebook.com/nadinedandorfauthor 
​and on Twitter
dandorf_8.
 
The first two books in the Adrian Reilly series, Contingencies and Corrective Measures, can be found on:
Amazon: 
www.amazon.com/Contingencies-Nadine-Dandorf-ebook/dp/B01LxC1MTX  
and 
www.amazon.com/Corrective-Measures-Nadine-Dandorf-ebook/dp/B077MP8X1T;
Barnes&Noble:
www.barnesandnoble.com/w/Contingencies-nadine-dandorf/1124703759 
 https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/corrective-measures-nadine-dandorf/1127546300
BookBaby: 
​https://store.bookbaby.com/book/Contingencies 
and
​ https://store.bookbaby.com/book/Corrective-Measures