Tina Gayle's Blog, page 10

CFO's Affair - Part of the Executive Wives Club - #WomenFiction, #Excerpt

Blurb -  Sylvia Donovan is emotionally wounded from the unexpected death of her husband and still haunted by their last conversation: his request for a divorce and his confession of love for another woman.  Her husband gone, her only daughter off to college, Sylvia faces the challenges of learning to live alone and move on with her life.Vince Wilshire, enchanted with Sylvia, is more than willing to do what it takes to capture the heart of the hurting and untrusting Sylvia.Can he help her forget the past and make her believe in love again? ExcerptThe door clicked open.Wrapping his hand around the handle to keep from reaching for her, Vince Wilshire shoved the door open. "Are you ready for this?"Her face mere inches from his, he noticed a brief flash of panic in her eyes before Sylvia Donovan lifted her chin and stepped through the entrance. "Nothing I haven't seen before. Or probably won't see again."He understood she meant the task of doing a job, but for some reason his brain registered the sexual implications of the comment. "Oh, man, you're brutal. Some things you know get better with age.”Matching his steps to hers, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned in close. He whispered beside her ear, "It's all a matter of knowing how to use what you've got."She shrugged and shifted away from him, eyeing him with a raised brow. "Yes and some people are amateurs, Mr. Wilshire. You, I take it, are an old pro who knows how to wield your sword with the best of them."Laughter bubbled up into his throat. He marveled at her sassy tone and didn't relinquish his grip. "I must admit I’m very good at a few chosen tasks." Purchase ebook at:



Read First Chapter of "CFO's Affair"
Purchase ebook at:
Smashwords | Amazon | B&N | Kobo |
 Thanks everyone, Tina

#RomanticIdeas from @VictoriaPinder & #Excerpt from Favorite Coffee, Favorite Crush

Romantic Ideas to spend this spring with your favorite guy…
Visit an art museumWalk on the beach (I know cheesy but it’s what my husband likes to do when we’re bored)Go food shopping together and pick out something for each other to add to the cartPlan a vacation or a cruise for a year away and talk about what you want to see or do (sometimes the planning is the fun part.)Watch a movie together while snugglingTake a dance class and use a groupon couponVisit a winery or local agriculture (perhaps apple picking)Rent a boat or a canoe or kayak and hit the water (Or water ski if you’re adventurous)Picnic in a local park somewhereGo online to one of those places where you get coupons, like groupon, and pick something together that you’ve both never done… in Florida they have everything from helicopter rides, hot air balloons and


Author Name: Victoria Pinder
 
Book Title: Favorite Coffee, Favorite Crush
 
Date Published:  Rereleased April 30, 2016
 
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
 
Purchase Link: Amazon: http://amzn.to/1SrKB7I
 


 
 
Penny moves back to Miami to start her new job. She must start on Monday, so she has a list of things to accomplish.
A: Find a place to live.
B: Avoid her mother.
C: Reconnect with old high school friends. There was her best friend, Sandra, the dramatic Eva, the dark Michael, her half-brother Wyatt, and her old high school crush Jay.
Jay had never looked twice at her except as a partner in math league, but at least these people respected her.
Jay spots Penny immediately and sets a plan in action. He needs her to pretend to be his date this week. She’s practical minded and stable, which is what he needs his investors to see in him.
Penny’s caught in a whirlwind of plots. Her gold digging mother, Jay’s, Jay’s mother whose out to stop him, and her own plans are being thrown off course. Worst of it is that she’s falling for Jay, all over again.
 
Contact Information
Website: http://www.victoriapinder.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/victoriapinder1
Twitter: https://twitter.com/victoriapinder
 





Author Bio:
 
Victoria Pinder grew up in Irish Catholic Boston before moving to the Miami sun. She’s worked in engineering, after passing many tests proving how easy Math came to her. Then hating her life at the age of twenty four, she decided to go to law school. Four years later, after passing the bar and practicing very little, she realized that she hates the practice of law. She refused to one day turn 50 and realize she had nothing but her career and hours at a desk. After realizing she needed change, she became a high school teacher. Teaching is rewarding, but writing is a passion.
During all this time, she always wrote stories to entertain herself or calm down. Her parents are practical minded people demanding a job, and Victoria spent too many years living other people’s dreams, but when she sat down to see what skill she had that matched what she enjoyed doing, writing became so obvious. The middle school year book when someone wrote in it that one day she’d be a writer made sense when she turned thirty.
She’s always been determined. She is amazing, adventurous and assured on a regular basis. Her website is  www.victoriapinder.com.
Member of Florida Romance Writers, Contemporary Romance, Celtic Hearts and Savvy Authors.
 
For a free novella of Returning for Valentine’s Please Click here: http://victoriapinder.com/returningforvalentineshorttimeoffer
 
 
Excerpt:
 
“Home, sweet, err…coffee.”
Getting out of her car, Penelope brushed her worn jeans to get out a small wrinkle. Not that it mattered. She smelled the coffee drawing her to the door. The delicious aroma of freshly brewed java that could wake her up waited inside. Gainesville had coffee shops, but nothing that held her heart like this place. In high school, this place was her mecca. Her stomach grumbled for the familiar drink.
The coffee shop looked almost the same as it had years ago, except for the aluminum tables and wooden chairs with red cushions. She remembered the plaid chairs and brown tables, but the place still calmed her, like she was coming home.
She stepped up to the counter. “I’ll have a cinnamon dulce nonfat latte, please.”
Leaving Gainesville after college had always been the plan. Just never back to Miami, but she’d changed. She could live here now.
She checked her lip gloss while she waited for the latte at the counter.
When she accepted the promotion from part-time to full-time, she knew she would have to face her mother and the catch of the month, Lars, her mother’s plastic surgeon. What that woman would do for a free tummy tuck.
The job she’d accepted had offered to triple her salary, provided she moved to the Coral Gables office. Somehow, she’d avoid her mother until necessary. What was the man’s name with money this week? Penny ignored that last call, knowing the man with the largest wallet always took precedence over whatever Penelope needed. She watched the barista get the nonfat milk and finish her latte. She’d succeed here, now. She had to.
She’d call Sandra, Eva, John, and Michael later. Wyatt, her half-brother, was stationed overseas, so she’d wait for his weekly call. These people were her real family.
The man handed her the latte. The first sip gave her the strength to do this. The tightness of the ride dissipated while she tasted her liquid savior. Sighing, she tasted heaven, the wake-up to her day.
“Penelope.”
Though the unmistakable voice was deeper, she knew who it was without even turning. Her high school crush, who never noticed her beyond her brain. Pulling at her pink tank top, she wished she’d worn better clothes. “John Jay.”
His steely blue eyes and sandy blond hair were the same color, but his build had grown more muscular. The leanness of his youth had given way to broad shoulders and hard, muscular arms. He had a straight, faded scar on his left cheek that was new—probably a bar fight. Rich boy wore his fancy, perfectly fitted polo and jeans, and was definitely hotter with age. His million-dollar smile and devastating dimples sparked a warm flush that sped through her all the way to the tips of her toes.
“I’m going by Jay these days. It’s less formal.” He winked at her, turning off his tablet and pointing her to his table.
“It’s a good name, but I still prefer Dimples,” she teased. “It’s what I called you on online whenever I needed you.”
His rich, deep laugh sent that familiar spark through her.
Damn. Rich boy knew his effect on women, including her. He could manipulate her when she went quiet, but she’d learned a lot in college. She’d not let him weaken her.

Hope you enjoyed this series of #RomanticIdeas,
Tina
 

Twitter, Tweets, RTs, Oh, My How to Build your Twitter Account by @authortinagayle

Okay, you have a twitter account and you want to promote your book.

But first you have to have some followers.

Should be easy right?

Just ask people and they follow you. No problem only not everyone will follow you.

The biggest offenders of this are well know authors, actors, famous people, etc.

Don't bother with these people unless you are a fan or at least not until you've gone over the 2000 follower limit that Twitter puts on all new members.

Questions to know the answer to -

1. Who should I follow?
Other author in the same genre as you're in.Readers - search for words like readers, romance, mystery, Look to see who your followers are following.
2. How do I know who is not following me?

Best to use a software add on app like http://www.justunfollow.com/  http://manageflitter.com/I use both. Just unfollow - is great for adding a return message for people who follow you. In the message make sure to mention your website, blog or FB page.

Manage Flitter - is good because it allows you to unfollow more than 50 people at a time.

3. What should I twit about

Likes, dislikes, your book, your life, (personally I stay away from Politics but do what you feel works for you.)Try for at least several tweets a day. (Marketers suggest one every hour)4. How can I tweet so much?
Again use an add on app like Hootsuites...https://hootsuite.com/ It can be used for multiply social media sites like Facebook, twitter, Linkin, etc.All of the add on apps mention are free. You can upgrade if you like but it is not necessary.

Now, the next thing to know is the about # hash tags.

A hash tag adds your twit to a listing that some people check daily, weekly, whenever.

5. Are hash tags useful?
They can be if not over used. Try to limit them to three or four. I found them most useful for retweet the same message but in a different way.Example - you want to say something like Like my fb page http://on.fb.me/RIJ1gI and send me yours. #authors, #fbfriendsTwitter will only let you tweet the same message every 24 hours so to change it up adding different hash marks can let you twit the same base message multiply times.6. Why would I want to Retweet anyone else?Mainly, because if you want people to RT you. You have to Tweet them. As a thank you for being your followerto help a friend.interest item your followers might enjoy7. Can I RT others and still promote me?Yes, a number of people RT people's information by placing the other's person information in their tweet box. This puts your picture on the Tweet but it has someone else's information.To me this is a double edge sword. Yes - you are getting your picture out there, but you are promoting someone else.  The above items are just a few things you might need to know about twitter. Feel free to leave a comment or ask any other question you might have about twitter. Can't say I have the answer, but I can try to direct you in the right direction.Have a great week, Tina 

#Excerpt from Fate Captured by @MMJaye Plus a #RomanticIdea

GREEK TYCOONS – BOOK ONEFate Captured

CLEAN &; SPICY VERSIONS

Tagline

Can two wrongs win Mr. Right? 

Logline

A meddling thriller writer ruins the career of a Greek shipping heir then tarnishes his family’s name and faces his inevitable wrath—because to fix him, she needs to break him first.

 

Short Blurb

Can two wrongs win Mr. Right?

An aspiring thriller writer, Trish Swan would rather write violence, not witness it. Yet, on her first day in Athens, Greece, she turns in a cop, presenting footage, evidence of police brutality. Her civic duty done, she goes to a small Greek island to pursue her dream.

Markos Venetis wants nothing more than to get his hands on the meddling tourist that ruined him professionally. Against all odds, he does. And she screams. Not out of fear.

But when she tarnishes his family’s name, this Greek heir’s blood boils. And someone is bound to burn.

Fate Captured Purchase Links

Amazon Purchase Links (all markets)

Spicy: http://getBook.at/FCapturedSpicy

Clean: http://getBook.at/FCapturedClean 

Goodreads

Spicy version: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30052119-fate-captured-spicy-romance

Clean version:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30056131-fate-captured-clean-romance

 Author Bios


BIO MM Jaye’s mother claims that she spoke her first word at the age of six. Months. As a kid she would record fairytales in her own voice, play them back and then re-record, adjusting the pitch and tempo. Later, she used her voice to inspire young adults and teach them the art of translation. But there came a time when life took a turn for the worse, and her voice temporarily died out. That’s when she turned to writing. Fate Captured is the first book in her Greek Tycoons series, set on the Greek island where her husband proposed. MM Jaye lives in Athens, Greece, with her husband, daughter and Kindle.

Author LinksAmazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/MM-Jaye/e/B00OX44NSOBlog: http://mmjayewrites.comFacebook: www.fb.com/MMJayeauthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/MMJayePinterest: www.pinterest.com/mmjaye1/Google+: https://plus.google.com/+MMJayeauthor Fate Captured by MM JAYE - ExcerptsExcerptBalancing the tray on one hand, Trish turned to take the drinks to the couple snuggling on the cushioned bench that lined the side wall. She gave Hot Guy a wide berth. Although initially she wanted him to watch her dance, she also had to think of her reputation at her workplace. Branding herself as an easy waitress was the last thing she needed.She spotted the sleazo leaving his seat. His eyes were pinned on her, his upper lip curled. Now she worried more about putting space between her and him. She sidestepped clumsily, and her foot caught on the protruding leg of a bar stool, sending her careening forward.A hand of steel around her arm steadied her before she fell flat on her face. As bad luck went, it was the arm with the tray, and by the time she pushed her tumbling hair out of her face, the drinks intended for the snuggling couple were soaking her savior’s jeans-clad thighs.

She looked up. As if she needed his steel-gray gaze to be petrified.

“Was that Plan B or a payback?”At the sound of the guy’s low, deep voice, her heart rate went from fast to frantic. Trying to ignore the burning sensation his large fingers had left on her arm, she focused on what he was saying. Which was gibberish.“What was?”Hot guy quirked a thick, dark brow. “Do you make a habit of throwing yourself at men, or was that your way of getting back at me for not falling for your little dance routine earlier?”

Anger thickened her blood to the point of clotting it, and her heartbeat markedly dropped.

“Did you just imply I stumbled on purpose?”

“I didn’t.”

She frowned.

“Imply.”

Trish opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Glancing about, she saw that Bo had gone to the back room, and the snuggling couple were about to start making babies, oblivious to the fact that their drinks were now pooling on the floor. She inched closer to the bar and leaned against it, giving him her sweetest smile.



The hard expression on his face remained, but his gaze fell on her mouth, his eyes widening just a fraction.She had a killer smile, and she knew it.Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she threw out her hand, snatched his tumbler and brought that drink down on him as well.His gaze dropped to his lap.“Now that was payback.” She pivoted and tossed her long hair with such gusto, it had to have whipped his face.
Romantic Idea to enjoy this summer




Have your partner read your favorite romance novel and ask him which romantic scene he enjoyed the most and then re-enact the scene! It could be candlelit dinner at a location similar to that mentioned in the book, wearing similar outfits, with the night progressing exactly as the book describes. Do your best to keep the script *winks*In Fate Captured, the hero re-enacts the final scene of the heroine’s book (she’s an aspiring writer) even changing the dining room’s furniture to resemble those in the scene, and that’ show he won her back. He did need a grand gesture after the way he treated her, after all. 

 

#NewRelease #HistoricalErotica The Country Doctor's Bride by @AnitaPhilmar #MFRWauthor

The Country Doctor’s Bride 6th book in the Naked Bluff, Texas series  

 Marriage or jail, which should she choose?


A hot, historical western stand-alone story with a satisfying HEA.

 With no ties to Texas, Dixy secures a ride to the next town on her way out of the state. The driver, Tobias Poe offers to let her rest. While she’s in the back, he is shot.

Rushing to save him, she arrives in Naked Bluff, Texas.


The town’s doctor, Nathaniel Murphy can’t save him, but can he save her?


Penniless, alone, and now a murder suspect, Dixy has no alternative but to accept his help. Can this couple build a future together?


Or will a killer silence her forever?


  Excerpt:Slowly, the clicked-clank of the wheels and the steady rocking lured her to sleep.

Only moments later to her, Dixy heard voices and noticed they weren’t moving. Had they arrived in town?

Disoriented, she listened to the rough cadence of a male voice. His loud, accusing tone shoved back the lure of continuing to snooze. She shifted and squinted up to where Tobias still sat on the wagon’s bench.

“Now, now, there’s no cause for you to get upset. I have everything under control,” Tobias assured the other man.

“So do I,” the stranger yelled.

Pop, pop, pop.

Dixy froze. Gunfire wasn’t something she was prepared to deal with.

Holding her breath, she silently wondered, what the hell was going on?

Several long seconds ticked by, then the distinct sound of horse’s hooves striking the wet ground sang through the silence. Plop, plop, plop, the noise indicated the man had ridden away.

“Tobias, what was that—”

A body crumbled on top of her. Shocked by the sudden attack, Dixy scrambled to one side and sat up to stare into Tobias’ pale, pain-filled face. Misery sat on the tight line of his lips. Blood covered his chest.

“My God, Tobias,” Dixy exclaimed and scurried to give him room to lie down on the hard, wooden planks. “You’ve been shot.

 

Goes live May 12 up for preorder until then

Available at amazon 

http://bit.ly/CountryDoctorBride 

More about Anita Philmar

Anita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.

Influenced by sci-fi programs, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where erotic moments come to life in a great read.

Naughty or Nice?

Read her books and decide.

 

Website:  http://www.anitaphilmar.com/

Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com

Blog: http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/

FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar

GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar

Twitter: https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar

Goodreads  https://www.goodreads.com/anitaphilmar

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Anita-Philmar/e/B002BMBE8C

 

 

 

Historical Westerns Naked Bluff, Texas series

 

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In Deep Water – Skinny-dipping to cool off in the Trinity River couldn’t cause any problems...could it? 

http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Water-Naked-Bluff-Texas-ebook/dp/B00EOCROYK

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In Too Deep – The peace of the day is shattered when her best friend steps too far into the Trinity River.

http://www.amazon.com/Deep-Naked-Bluff-Texas-Book-ebook/dp/B00IMQLOMC

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Duty’s Bride  - Can Sadie have a new life or will her old one rear its ugly head?

http://www.amazon.com/Deputys-Bride-Naked-Bluff-Texas-ebook/dp/B00NUTJ5N6

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More Than Ready – Can a determined woman win her heart’s desire?

http://www.amazon.com/Ready-Naked-Western-Historical-Romance-ebook/dp/B00XLWMATS

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Other Historical Western – Texas Passion – A girl determine to get her man no matter the cost. http://www.amazon.com/Texas-Passion-ebook/dp/B0056B5STQ

 

 Wow what a series,
Tina

 

Family #Mystery to Solve with the Help of #Spirits and a #Ghost

What if we had family spirits that guided our lives?

In Summer's Growth, Amber Harrison is given the opportunity to become the Winston family keeper. She runs the family trust and lives in the family home.

Problem is she has to prove herself by solving a two hundred year old mystery.

The family spirits try to help her find the answers to the disappearance of her great, great, great, great, grandmother. Yet, there are forces which don't want her to find the answer. Luckily, the ghost of her grandmother is helping and saves Amber's life on more than one occasion.

Can Amber solve the mystery or will those who don't want the mystery revealed kick her out of her new job permanently by killing her?


Excerpt -


Mattie raised her chin as if ready to receive the blow. The resistance in her eyes warned of the fireworks to come. “Amber isn’t a stranger. She’s part of the family.”
Heedless of the danger, Cynthia forged ahead. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Having forgotten Josh, Amber jumped at the sound of his voice. “Mom, don’t you remember? Amber told us she’s part of the Winston family tree.”
Locked in combat with Mattie, Cynthia didn’t shift her gaze away from her sister. “I believe there’s more to it. Would you care to tell us the rest of the story, Mattie?”
She shrugged. “I have decided to name Amber as heir to the estate.”
Stunned, questions shot through Amber’s head like bullets. What? Did Winston Manor really belong to Mattie? Then who was Jonathan? And why did he write...
Cynthia jumped to her feet and screamed at the top of her lungs. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? The estate is locked up in a trust fund.”
She threw her napkin on the table and slammed her hand down over it. “You idiot, just because this girl claims to be part of the family is no reason to award her the estate. We’re talking about my family legacy too.”
The sheer fury resonating from Cynthia’s body frightened Amber. Were the two sisters about to rumble?
“You have no right to hand it over to her or anyone else.” Cynthia pointed her finger at Mattie and continued with her tirade. “If you don’t want to be in charge of the trust fund, let Josh handle it. We’re your closest living relatives.”
The color drained from Mattie’s face, but she remained composed. “I’m sorry, but my mind is made up.”
“You’ll regret this. I won’t stand by and let you steal away my inheritance.” Cynthia pivoted on her heels and without a backward glance stomped to the door. “Come on Josh, we’re leaving.”
In shock, Amber waited for the scene to unfold. Josh stood, walked to his aunt, kissed her cheek and followed his mother out of the room.
The front door clicking shut didn’t interrupt the hushed sound of hurt radiating from Mattie.
Impatient for answers, Amber couldn’t remain silent. “This doesn’t make any sense. The letter I received said I’m supposed to inherit the estate from someone named Jonathan. Not you.”
A sad expression marred Mattie’s face and she patted Amber’s hand. “I know. I’m the current owner-slash-keeper of the estate. When I die, you’ll inherit the estate. Until then, you’ll be the new keeper or lead trustee.”
“But I don’t understand. It’ll be years before you die.” Amber swiveled her head around and studied Mattie's pale complexion. “Unless you’re sick?”
“No, but I’ve had the responsibility of the estate for a long time. I need to learn to do something else.” She shoved away her plate. “This arrangement will offer you the chance to learn what it takes to be the keeper. And it will free me up to figure out what I want to do. A nice exchange if you ask me.”
“But why didn’t you tell me this before?” Amber suspected more to the omission.
“I didn’t think it mattered.” Mattie rose, lifted her plate and walked into the kitchen.
“But Cynthia is your sister.” Amber rushed to gather up her dishes. “Shouldn’t one of them inherit the estate?”

Read First Chapter of "Summer's Growth"  Purchase ebook at:

www.amazon.com

 Also if you are a member of Goodread be sure to check out my preview of Summer's Growth that includes several chapters.
https://www.goodreads.com/reader/35560-summer-s-growth?return_to=%2Fbook%2Fshow%2F17332182-summer-s-growth


The next book, "Fallen Leaves" should be out at the beginning of 2014.

 
Tina Gayle grew up a dreamer and loved to escape into the world of books.

She is currently finishing up her series about four executive wives and has started a new series - The Family Tree about how spiritual guides directed the lives of the current generation.
Read the first chapter of her books by visiting her website and find her at
Home - www.tinagayle.net

Blog - www.tinagayle.blogspot.com

Twitter - https://twitter.com/#!/AuthorTinaGayle

Goodread - http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1641826.Tina_Gayle

Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/tina.gayle

Google + - https://plus.google.com

Linkin - http://www.linkedin.com/pub/tina-gayle/11/689/759

 

Interview with Authors Talk About It by @AuthorsTalk #romance #ASMSG

Here is the direct link: http://authorstalkaboutit.com/marketing-execs-widow/
It can also be found here: http://authorstalkaboutit.podbean.com/e/marketing-execs-widow

I can't tell you how much I enjoyed talking to Janelle and Rob.


We discussed why I wrote the Executive Wives Club series and what makes these books different than most.


I hope you take a moment and listen.


Here are the books in the series.



 
All are available on amazon   |  Barnes and Noble  |  Kobo     | All Romance  |   Apple 

My Future Step Brother can download free on my website.http://www.tinagayle.net/mybookpg.html
 
Also you can read the 1st chapter of each book on my website.
Have a great day,
Tina

Pregnancy Plan - "A Lady with a Plan" @AuthorTinaGayle #ASMSG #Romance

Pregnant shopkeeper Jillian Wilson prepares for single parenthood until high-risk security specialist Derrick Harris, the baby’s father, is caught in an explosion that changes everything.  Confused, Derrick returns to the States with amnesia. Jillian believes she has it all a husband, a baby, a perfect life, to bad that her dreams hang on Derrick’s faulty memory and a lie. Excerpt

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, setting down their coffees on the counter. “You look flustered. What’s going on?”

Jillian twisted her hands in front of her, trying to hold herself together. “Jason called me this morning. Derek has been hurt.”

The explanation made her think of the pain he must be suffering. “A car exploded, and he was hit by flying debris. He has a concussion. He’s in a hospital in Germany.”

“Wait a second, how did Jason know to call you?” Karen Ann eyed her suspiciously.

“That’s the strange part. Derek is claiming we’re married.” Jillian studied her friend. Could she pull off another lie?

“Married? That’s not what you told me the other night. You said that he left before you got married.”

She couldn’t do it. “I know, but with the blow to the head, his memory is foggy. He can’t remember anything about his last assignment.”

Karen Ann grabbed Jillian’s arm. “What have you done?”

“I told Jason we were married,” she confided tearfully.

“Why?”

She wiped at her tears. “What other choice did I have? He remembers marrying me. He wanted to marry me, he would have married me. I’m the one that got cold feet. I can’t let him down.” She begged for understanding. “You can’t tell anyone the truth.”

Karen Ann picked up her coffee. Jillian waited, uncertain as to how her friend would handle this news. “You know you’re asking for trouble.” She sipped her coffee then set it back down. “But you’re my best friend, so, yes, I'll keep your secret.”

She sighed with relief and hugged her friend. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Karen Ann grinned. “So when is your husband due back?”

Jillian drew in a deep breath. “Saturday. I called Michael this morning and told him about Derek. He’s coming down Friday so he can drive me to Dallas the next day. We’ll close the store early on Saturday.”

“Does Michael know about the baby?” Karen Ann leaned against the counter.

“No, I wanted to save some news for when Derek gets home.” Jillian shook her head. “Jason already wants his brother to stay in Dallas to keep us apart. But I know he'll never go for it.”

Karen Ann’s eyes widened. “Then you want him to come live here with you?”

“Yes. Where else would he live? After all, we’re married,” Jillian reminded her friend, and tried to drill it into her own head.

Read First Chapter of "Pregnancy Plan" and Reviews  Purchase at www.smashwords.com www.kobobooks.com itunes.apple.com At Amazon www.barnesandnoble.com



Hope you have a great holiday,


Tina

The Gordonston Ladies - Dog Walking Club by @DuncanWhitehead #Mystery, #ASMSG

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012AN01GW 
 
St Patrick’s Day is fast approaching, the largest and most popular event in Savannah, but for the members of Gordonston’s dog walking club their priority is recruiting a glamorous new member and defending their beloved park from encroachers and a rival dog walking club. 

Meanwhile, a hitman is headed to town with orders to kill. But just who is his target? 

For the last time we return to Gordonston, where secrets are finally revealed, lies and untruths exposed, and once again, as the plot thickens, the residents of Gordonston find themselves entangled in a web of deeply hidden agendas, deception, and vengeance. Forget what you thought you knew....nothing was ever what it seemed. 

Filled with twists and turns, the Gordonston Trilogy, a series of revenge, retribution and dog walking, that has gripped readers worldwide comes to a fitting end. Prepare for the ultimate sucker punch ending and a conclusion so shocking and unexpected, it will leave you breathless. 
 
EXTRACT
 
From his vantage point on the roof of the Union Bank Building, he could see the parade turning onto Bay Street. The procession, led by four officers of the Savannah Police Department motorcycle division, who sped in front of the crawling parade, lights flashing and their sirens blaring, was the signal to the excited crowd that the parade was approaching. The long stream of floats, cars, marching bands and representatives of police, firefighting departments, military units, schools and colleges; many dressed in kilts of assorted tartans, led by bagpipers and drummers, was now only minutes away. He could sense the crowd’s anticipation and excitement, and he had never seen so much green in his entire life.
Both sides of the procession route were filled with revelers; many dressed in green hats, green jackets, green t-shirts, or a combination of all three. It was as if a sea of green had flooded the city streets. Everyone, it seemed, dressed in the color associated with the Irish and Ireland. He estimated that there must be over one hundred thousand people on this part of the parade route alone, and his estimation was probably low.
He had read that Savannah’s celebration was the second largest Saint Patrick’s Day gathering in the United States, something he had found to be odd considering that the city itself had no real Irish feel about it. From what he had seen and heard so far, the event reminded of him Mardi Gras in New Orleans, an excuse for a party, and, of course, a drink and a reason to get drunk. He had also read that the festivities lasted several days, with Irish themed celebrations and events dominating the historic city for a week. The parade itself would be shown live on local television channels. Many of the visitors and parade watchers would have arrived a few days before the actual procession, drinking, partying, and enjoying life and all things Irish well into the early hours.
Reaching into his duffel bag, he retrieved a pair of binoculars. Through them, he could now clearly see the procession approaching. The open-topped car, which he could see was a Mustang, carried the mayor and his wife. It would be the third car in line that would be heading the parade. The car following the mayor’s vehicle would be that of the city’s police chief. Again, that would be an opened topped vehicle, and the car behind his would carry the previous chief of police who had retired last year.
Apart from the officers on motorcycles, who now ensured that the road ahead was clear of encroaching spectators, the parade was led by the St. Patrick’s Day Grand Marshall. He would walk the route on foot, followed closely by the preceding year’s marshal.
He had accessed the roof of the unoccupied bank building three hours previously. As he had been told it would be, the door was unlocked and the building deserted. It was the perfect position; if his only reason to be in Savannah that day were to just watch the parade, he would have had the best seat in the house. No one had seen him enter the building and he was more than confident he could not be spotted from the streets below, or from any of the other buildings that lined the route along Bay Street.
Numerous food trucks and stalls had invaded Savannah to cater to the million or so people who would witness the parade. The smell of barbecued pork, deep-fried turkey legs, and other fast food filled the air, causing a rumbling in his stomach. However, he did not allow his hunger to distract him.
After placing the binoculars on the ground, he raised his rifle to his shoulder and lay prone on the building’s roof. He adjusted the telescopic sight of his weapon and scanned the crowd; he focused his sights on an attractive girl, dressed in shorts and a tight green tee shirt and wearing a collection of green beads around her neck. She was cheering and was obviously enjoying herself. His gaze lingered on her before he shifted the weapon and set his sights on the third vehicle, which was now within shooting range of his high-powered .308 sniper rifle, fitted with an ACC sound suppressor.
He could see that his target was smiling and waving at the excited crowds that lined both sides of the sidewalk. He did not feel any sadness, remorse, or pity for his victim. It was purely business and nothing personal.
The driver of the mayor’s car, probably a local government employee or an eager volunteer, remained focused on his task, ensuring that the car did not exceed ten miles per hour. He did not appear to be distracted by the crowd, which was a good thing. The last thing he needed was the driver, once the shot had been fired, to careen into the sidewalk and innocent bystanders. He had one target only, no one else needed to die today.
The target was now in perfect range. He could press the trigger at any time, confident that the bullet would enter his victim’s forehead, resulting in immediate death. He once again shifted the weapon, this time his sights trained on the mayor’s wife. She was attractive, there was no disputing it. Stunning even, and she seemed to be reveling in the attention she was receiving. Like her husband, she was smiling and waving to the crowd, as well as dispensing green beads from a bag placed in her lap. The crowd seemed desperate to catch the cheap plastic trinkets.
He moved his weapon again, this time his sights trained on the chief of police. He looked odd in his uniform, out of place. He appeared to be uncomfortable being in the spotlight, as if the whole parade was an enormous chore for him and if he could, he would be anywhere else than sitting in front of hundreds of thousands of cheering people. It also appeared that he was preoccupied and maybe even a little nervous.
Again, shifting the weapon, he took aim at the former police chief. He was sitting alone, as was the current chief, in his open topped car. It seemed that only the mayor had the privilege of having his wife accompany him in the parade. The former chief looked far more comfortable with the proceedings than his successor. He appeared how a police chief should look--confident, authoritative, and relaxed.
He took a deep breath and retrained the telescopic sight of the rifle onto the mayor. He could now hear the music of a marching band in the distance, probably a few places behind the politician and further back in the procession. He steadied himself and exhaled.
He had planned his escape earlier. By the time anyone realized what had happened, he would be long gone. Even if the police were able to work out where the kill shot had come from, he would already be half way to Miami.
What a crowd, he thought, an amazing sight, and this was just a small part of the parade route. Visitors just for the day, both locals and tourists who just happened to have planned their vacation on Savannah’s busiest day of the year. No matter, this would be one Saint Patrick’s Day none of them would forget.
Once again, he scanned the crowd with the telescopic lens of his rifle. He paused as he spotted a couple he estimated to be in their fifties; the man was dressed in a blue business suit, not the popular green that others wore, while the woman wore a blue, flowered-patterned dress. Moving the sights once more, he rested his view on an older looking woman on the opposite side of the street. She appeared to be alone, and unlike others in the crowd, did not seem to be enjoying the parade. It seemed that she was scowling at the procession as it passed by, seething with apparent anger. He couldn’t help but notice that her anger seemed to be directed at the mayor’s vehicle.
Scanning the crowd one last time through the sights of his weapon, he spotted a middle-aged couple holding hands. Both men were laughing and dressed entirely in green, including matching green trousers. They appeared to be enjoying the parade and it looked as though they were trying to get the attention of the police chief as he drove by. The chief, however, continued to seem uncomfortable with the proceedings and the attention he was receiving.
He rubbed his right eye, adjusted his baseball cap, and tucked the butt of the rifle into his shoulder. Maybe he would grab a turkey leg before he left the city, they smelled delicious. Finding his target, he took a deep breath before he gently pressed on the trigger… and fired.



Award Winning Writer, Duncan Whitehead, was born in England and is the author of the best-selling and award-winning GORDONSTON LADIES DOG WALKING CLUB Trilogy. The series, inspired by the quirky characters and eeriness in the real life Savannah neighborhood in which he once lived is a humorous mystery, which boasts an assortment of characters and plot twists.  

He has also written over 2,000 spoof and comedy news articles, under various aliases, for a variety of websites both in the US and the UK.  

He has written further novels; a comedy set in Manhattan, THE RELUCTANT JESUS, published in April 2014 and republished in July 2015 & three short stories.

Duncan is well known for his charity work, kindness to animals, children and old people; and, of course, his short-lived bullfighting career and his hideous hunchback.

In February 2045, he invented time travel and now spends much of his time in either the future (where he has won the lottery an astonishing 117 times) and the present day.

 

Social Links 

https://twitter.com/DuncanWhitehead/ 

https://www.facebook.com/duncan.whitehead.9

https://www.instagram.com/duncanwriter/


http://duncanwhiteheadauthor.com

Other Books -  

The Reluctant Jesus

Murder At The Fourth

The Best Man

An Actor's Life

Home For The Weekend

You Say Tomato, I Say Tomato, She Says Murder



Thanks for sharing,


Tina

The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club - Unleashed by @DuncanWhitehead #ASMSG, #Mystery

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00NEX4VH8 
 
The thrilling sequel to the bestselling and award winning novel, The Gordonston Ladies Dog Walking Club.             

Four months after the disappearance of Tom Hudd from a leafy Savannah neighborhood, the members of an afternoon cocktail and dog walking club ponder his whereabouts; despite one of them knowing his true fate. Recently elected mayor Elliot Miller has new agendas, and just where is Doug Partridge? 

An old man's death bed memories recall his ultimate revenge, while Savannah Detective Jeff Morgan has been assigned to two missing person's cases and a years old murder that he believes already solved.   Once again, though, a killer lurks and even more secrets unfold, as does an ever expanding web of deceit and lies. Who will die and who will live to see out the conclusion to a story of revenge, twists and murder? 

As before, the plot thickens, and the residents of Gordonston, all with deep hidden agendas, resume their plotting and desire for revenge and retribution; twists and turns lead the reader once again to a conclusion, and another sucker punch ending that will leave them breathless.
 
Extract
 
His body was much heavier than she had anticipated. It had taken her twenty minutes to remove the sheet-wrapped corpse from the trunk of her car and drag it from the street, through the gate that led to the rear of her house and then along the path leading to her back yard. She wiped her brow as trickles of sweat began to pour from her forehead.
She checked the time once more on her watch; it was 4 am. It appeared that no one had seen her, but she had remained vigilant, checking for the twitching of curtains, passing vehicles and any early morning dog walkers or returning late night revelers – she was satisfied that her nocturnal activities were not being watched. The last thing she needed was a curious neighbor or passerby witnessing her dragging a sheet-wrapped body from the rear of her new SUV. She paused for breath, sweat now pouring from her brow, which she again wiped away, leaving a trail of dirt across her forehead, dirt from the hole she had dug the previous evening in her back yard. A hole that had taken her hours to dig and a hole that was soon to become a grave.
It had taken her over three hours to dig the grave, again while ensuring she was not seen, and she had had to destroy many of the plants and flowers it had taken her years to grow, but it was a necessary consequence of burying a body, and there was simply nowhere else viable for such an endeavor. She sighed as she stared at the pile of disrupted flowers and plants. Her butterfly weedsand the hibiscus they’d planted when they had first moved into their home had been totally destroyed.
She smiled to herself. He had hated gardening. Detested it. She had lost count of the times they had argued and fought over her flower garden and plants. He had wanted to grow vegetables, to save money for one thing, but she saw no beauty in onions and potatoes. She had allowed him to plant a tomato bush, which remained intact and undamaged by the digging. Wherever he was, he would probably be laughing that her gardening labor of love had had to make way for a grave. Ironic, she thought, replacing the living for the dead.
Eventually, after what had seemed an eternity, she stood over the hole; it looked deep enough; four feet deep had been her aim. Though she wasn’t an expert, she estimated that her digging had been sufficient. She stood about five feet and four inches tall, so she guessed if she stood in the grave then she could estimate the depth. The last thing she needed were wild animals digging up the body; the thought of a neighborhood dog, or even cat, running around with bones in their mouths sent shivers down her spine. She jumped into the hole and her head peered over the top. Yes, she was confident it was deep enough.
The corpse, which was securely wrapped in the bed sheet, lay at her feet. For a minute she just stared at it. She had expected to feel more than she did, more grief, more sorrow, but the truth was that she felt relieved more than anything. She was glad it was eventually over. The hard part was done, mentally and emotionally anyway; the physical hardships, compared to what she had done earlier that day, were easy. She bent over, and placed a hand on the body. Despite her indifferent feelings of grief, a solitary tear fell from her eye. Intermingled with her sweat and the soil on her face, it formed a dark stain on the once pristine clean white sheet.
She looked backwards, towards her home. It was dark and silent, and the building’s sole occupant had been sleeping for hours. She thought about praying but dismissed the idea as pointless and hypocritical. She wasn’t even religious, and he certainly hadn’t been. There was, though, one more thing she had to do. She entered the shed that sat to the right of the destroyed plant bed and the freshly dug grave, and retrieved the bag of lime salts that had sat there for weeks. She understood that these lime salts would assist with the decomposition of the corpse and help mask any smell produced as a result of the decomposition. He had told her that.
“I guess I will miss you,” she whispered. “I know she will miss you,” she added. She placed her hand on the sheet, one final gesture of affection, though even that seemed forced and contrived. Would she really miss him? She wasn’t even sure. One thing was sure, her life would be easier without him.
With all the strength she could muster she rolled the body into the hole and watched as it tumbled into its final resting place. She sighed and took a deep breath. It was done. She lifted the half full bag of lime salts and scattered the contents into the grave, covering the sheeted corpse. Glancing to her left she picked up the same shovel she had used earlier that evening to dig the grave and began filling in the hole; shoveling the earth back to where it had come from. It was far easier, she thought, filling a grave than digging one, something else he had been right about. She paused for a moment. How many times had he done this? How many graves had he dug? How many families grieved and mourned for loved ones, with no knowledge where their bodies lay?
In the morning she would plant more flowers and maybe even vegetables; to cover the grave and to help disguise the unevenness of her disturbed garden. In a few weeks no one would ever even guess her flowerbed had been disrupted and hidden below it, a dead body. Not that she had many visitors anyway, and those she did have she doubted paid much attention to her gardening efforts. He certainly hadn’t.
So it was done. He was gone. Their lives would be so different now and she knew that she would miss him, and the truth was, sadly, that she would be the only one to miss him, and maybe even the only person to notice he was no longer around. Briefly, that thought filled her with fleeting sadness, not for him, but for her, but, as time would pass, he would become just a memory, and then shewould move on. Kids were like that. They had no real concept of death, not at her age at least, there were more important things to think about, such as toys and games.
Thirty minutes later the hole was covered and filled. It had been a long and tiring night; in fact the whole day had been tiring. She was exhausted. She could not recall the last time she had felt so tired, so drained. She yearned for her bed, the bed she no longer shared, and the sleep she so desperately needed.
Suddenly she heard a sound behind her. She turned her head quickly and instinctively dropped the shovel. It was the sliding door opening, the sliding door leading from the den to her back yard.
“Honey, get back to bed. You shouldn’t be wandering around,” said Veronica Partridge as she abandoned her task, though sufficiently completed in any case.
“Mommy, I was having a bad dream,” explained Katie Partridge turning back to enter the house as her mother followed behind her.
“Well, mommy is here now, so we can forget all about bad dreams. Where is bunny?”
Katie raised her left hand and produced a small stuffed rabbit. “Here he is, mommy, I have him,” she replied.
“Well,” said Veronica Partridge, as she collected her daughter in her arms, not caring about the dirt and sweat that covered her body, “that’s all that matters.”
Katie Partridge giggled and lifted her stuffed toy into the air, showing her mother that bunny was indeed safe in her custody, then her face took a more serious look. “Mommy, I have a question,” she said.
“Sure, honey, what is it?” replied Veronica Partridge as she slid the back door shut, taking one last glance at the recently dug grave.
“Where’s Daddy?” 
 
 
BIO
 
Award Winning Writer, Duncan Whitehead, was born in England and is the author of the best-selling and award-winning GORDONSTON LADIES DOG WALKING CLUB Trilogy. The series, inspired by the quirky characters and eeriness in the real life Savannah neighborhood in which he once lived is a humorous mystery, which boasts an assortment of characters and plot twists.  

He has also written over 2,000 spoof and comedy news articles, under various aliases, for a variety of websites both in the US and the UK.  

He has written further novels; a comedy set in Manhattan, THE RELUCTANT JESUS, published in April 2014 and republished in July 2015 & three short stories.

Duncan is well known for his charity work, kindness to animals, children and old people; and, of course, his short-lived bullfighting career and his hideous hunchback.

In February 2045, he invented time travel and now spends much of his time in either the future (where he has won the lottery an astonishing 117 times) and the present day.
 
Social Links
 
https://twitter.com/DuncanWhitehead/
 
https://www.facebook.com/duncan.whitehead.9
 
https://www.instagram.com/duncanwriter/
 
http://duncanwhiteheadauthor.com
 
The Reluctant Jesus
Murder At The Fourth
The Best Man
An Actor's Life
Home For The Weekend
You Say Tomato, I Say Tomato, She Says Murder
 Thanks for sharing can't wait to share the last book tomorrow,
Tina