Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 369

Meg Benjamin: Small Town, Resort Town

I write small town contemporary romance, along with what sometimes seems to be most of the Romance world. I started with Konigsburg, Texas, and then shifted to Salt Box, Colorado, in a shift that mirrored my own actual move from San Antonio to Denver. But when I say I write about small towns, I need to make an important distinction. My small towns may not be what cross your mind when you think of small towns. My small towns—both of them—are resort towns.

What’s the difference? Basically, resort towns have a different set of objectives from the average small town. Both Konigsburg and Salt Box depend on appealing to outsiders. Tourists are responsible for a large part of their economies, and this has an interesting effect on the way the towns function. Resort towns, in my experience, tend to be more outgoing, more open to new ideas and fashions. They have to keep attracting outsiders, which means they have to change with the times.

And yet they’re still small towns, meaning people know each other and support each other in the way many other small towns do. It’s this combination of sophistication and tradition that fascinates me, I admit. And the actual resort towns my books are based on—Fredericksburg, TX and Steamboat Springs, CO—are favorites of mine.

My latest book, Finding Mr. Right Now, is about a collision between show business and a small resort town. Saltbox, Colorado, is a summer and winter recreational resort that has to put up with the invasion of a reality show, Finding Mr. Right. The locals are friendly but a little taken aback by the outsiders, and a lot of the disagreements between the two groups take place at the Blarney Stone, a local bar loved by locals and visitors alike. Here’s a quick scene where Clark Denham, the owner of a local hotel (and hero of Saltbox Book 2, Love in the Morning, releasing on January 5) tries to explain the origins of the town’s name to some slightly confused Hollywood types (any resemblance to the story of how Tin Cup, Colorado, got its name is purely coincidental):

“Salt Box.” Monica turned to Clark Denham. “Why is it called Salt Box? Is it the name of a mountain?”

He gave her a lazy smile. “Do you want the real answer or the classic answer?”

“Can’t I have both?”

“Sure.” He picked up his beer. “The real answer is nobody knows exactly.”

“And the classic answer?”

“…is a story, of course. Starts when the town wasn’t a town yet. Just a stagecoach stop and a potential stop on the railroad that was supposed to go through and didn’t.” He took another swallow. “Sorry—off topic. Anyway, the people who lived here decided they needed to be an honest-to-god town, which meant they needed a name. With me so far?”

Monica nodded.

“Anyway, they figured they’d let the people in town vote on what name they liked best. So they asked people to write down their suggestions and put them in an empty salt box at the general store.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “I think I see where this is headed.”

“Yeah, well, keep it to yourself. You’ll ruin my concentration.” Denham gave him a dry smile. “So they had a couple of weeks for everybody to come up with their suggestions for a name and put them in the salt box. Then they called a town meeting so they could have a vote to choose the name everybody liked best.”

Ronnie frowned. “But they should have given people time to think first. I mean, they should have told them the names everybody came up with and then let them kind of talk it over. Because at first they might not have liked some of the names, but after a while they might have decided, okay, that’s not a bad name after all. So everybody would have been happy.”

Denham’s mouth edged into another smile, this one friendly. “That makes a lot of sense, but I think the people in town just wanted to get the whole thing over with. Decide on the name so they could get a post office and then move on.”

Ronnie gave a little puff of disapproval. “Patience is a virtue.”

Denham blinked, then took a breath. “Okay, so we’ve got the townspeople all coming together at the general store. Gonna choose a name and get cracking on having a real town. Civilization here we come.”

Monica leaned forward. “And?”

“And they upended the salt box to get all the suggestions, but there was nothing there.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Nothing? No names or anything?”

“Not even salt?” Paul murmured.

Monica gave him a quelling glance.

Denham shook his head. “Nothing. Nobody had suggested anything. So they decided to name the town after the box. Sort of a reminder that community spirit isn’t always too reliable around here.”

“But that’s sad.” Ronnie’s eyes were suspiciously bright. “Why didn’t somebody suggest something when they found out there weren’t any other suggestions? Maybe name it after their wife or their girlfriend or something. Didn’t they even care about what happened?”

“That’s one possibility.” Denham took another swallow of his beer. “Of course, it’s also possible that nobody could think of anything good enough, and they were afraid to suggest something bad.”

“Or maybe they all figured somebody else would come up with something, so they didn’t bother. That happens a lot.” Saltzman, the bar owner, grinned at Ronnie.

“Maybe.” Her eyes still looked faintly tearful.

Monica sighed. “It didn’t turn out too badly, Ronnie. I mean, Salt Box is a unique name. It’s a lot more memorable than some places I’ve been.”

“Thank you.” Denham bowed slightly in her direction. “I feel that way myself. Better to live in Salt Box than to live in someplace called Highland Park Acres. The town’s got a flair for the unexpected.”

And here’s the blurb for Finding Mr. Right Now:

Reality can be hotter than fiction.

The Salt Box Trilogy, Book 1

Monica McKellar, associate producer of Finding Mr. Right, is desperate. One of the show’s bachelors has bailed one week before shooting starts. She not only needs a replacement ASAP, he has to get the temperamental bachelorette’s stamp of approval.

Fortunately there’s a hot guy right under her nose who’s a perfect fit. Unfortunately, he pushes all her hot buttons. Until the show’s over, her hands—and every other part of her body—are tied.

When Paul DeWitt signed on to write for the reality show, “Bachelor #10” wasn’t supposed to be in his job description. He fully expects to be cut early on, which will free him to focus on the real object of his attraction. Monica.

Instead, he’s a finalist, and they’re all packed in an SUV climbing the Continental Divide, headed for Salt Box, Colorado. Where stampeding horses, vindictive tabloid editors, and one capricious bachelorette’s waffling over suitors may conspire to end Paul and Monica’s romance before it even starts.

Warning: Contains hot sex on the sly, cold nights, creaking wicker couches, and a gypsy wagon that gives a whole new appreciation for the pioneers.

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Samhain

Questions…

My body feels like I’ve taken ten rounds in a boxing ring. My shoulders, back, but especially my feet, ache something fierce!

Last night, I went to the county fair with my dd’s family. I rode only one ride—the Ferris wheel with the 6-year-old (I had to promise not to rock the car, she knows me). Our fair is small, but has everything you’d expect from an old-fashioned fair: a very small rodeo, animals kids raised, an art competition, rides, games and bad food.

The 2-year-old had THE best time. She couldn’t ride much because she was too small, but her eyes were round and she didn’t fuss the whole evening. She loved the carousel but hated funnel cake. She loved the balloons, but wanted her daddy to pop them. The 11-year-old met up with friends from school and raced from ride to ride. Oh, to have their energy!

Since my mind is on my aches and that warm feeling still lingering from watching all the fun the kids had, my questions are these:

When was the last time you went to the county fair? 

And what do you love about the fair?

Teresa Noelle Roberts: BAD KITTY and various good kitties

My cat Noodle is perched on my lap as I write this post. She’s helped me with promo for Bad Kitty, posing for pictures with the paperback. Don’t tell her she’s not the only inspiration for Xia, my felinoid heroine! Her contribution to Xia and her feline hero Rahal is unshakeable self-confidence. Noodle knows she’s beautiful and lovable, even if at this stage of her life she’s shaped more like a dumpling than a noodle and has a voice that can shatter glass. Likewise, my felinoid characters suffer their share of anguish, but never, like their human partner Cal, doubt that they are hot or that their lovers desire them. Real love? Oh, they have some doubts there, but they never doubt that the others want and like them. They’re so sexy and charming!

Two earlier cats who shared my life also inspired assassin Xia. Gypsy had been a feral. My ex-husband and I gradually tamed her, but she never lost that wild edge. We once caught her cornering a raccoon the size of a beagle. She weighed perhaps five pounds, but that raccoon was cowering and seemed relieved to be rescued by normally scary humans! Like Gypsy, Xia is tiny but deadly, and she can take on much larger opponents. Gypsy, though, never lost all her feral fears—the brave cat who’d hunt anything would run away at the sight of a pair of men’s work boots. Xia, too, is haunted by her past.

Pusheen was half Siamese but tortoiseshell in coloring, a sleek, elegant killing machine who devastated the local bird population. Her contribution, besides the grace she brought to slaughter, was her loyalty. I was her person and she’d protect me. Even if the only way she could figure out to do so was peeing on my ex’s stuff when he and I fought.

Luckily for the plot, Xia has resources an actual cat doesn’t. So when she needs to protect her adoptive family, she comes up with a wily plot that has definite benefits for her.

Of course, Rahal also sees some benefits to it. He’s felinoid himself, after all.

Excerpt (For some background, Rahal has been trying to blackmail Xia’s adoptive parents into being the faces for his anti-slavery campaign. She doesn’t like this plan, as it would interfere with their actual clandestine rescuing of slaves):

“My dads are obvious badasses. I’m petite and adorable and I look like the worst thing I could do is steal your lover, and I’m a trained killer. How is that not terrifying?”

“Point.” He started grinning, a real smile, not an aggressive display of fangs that nonfelinoids might mistake for a smile. “It’s classic cinema—you using the skills you learned as an exploited child to take out other evil people. But it only works if the audience isn’t dumb and so many people are dimmer than dark matter. I’m still leaning toward your fathers.”

He liked the idea. She could tell by his body language, the way his ears cocked toward her, the lilt of his tail. But she needed to sweeten the deal. Time for that good-bad idea.

She’d had sex for far worse reasons, such as I’m bored and I don’t feel like getting arrested tonight so I might as well pick someone up and It’s cold and dreary; why not curl up with someone warm. And since she wanted him as badly as she’d ever wanted anyone, why not? “Let’s put it this way. You agree to my offer, you get me. Any way you want, for as long as you want.”

“I’m not sure it counts as a good bribe,” Rahal said. “I’m all in for sexytimes with you, don’t get me wrong. But you’ve flat out said you’d sleep with me, so I’ll need more than that to consider it a bargain, not just a good time between two people who want each other already.”

Time for a careless shrug and studying her nails nonchalantly. “I never sleep with anyone. Never spend the night. But I will with you if you want. And, yeah, I was going to sex you once. No one ever gets more than once, even if they’re as good as you probably think you are. But you’ll get me all you want if you let Mik and Gan off the hook. No limits.” Then she narrowed her eyes. “If you say no, I’m out the door and you will never touch me again. But if any harm comes to my fathers because of this little plot of yours, I’ll be the one doing the touching.”

“In a life-ending sort of way?”

“In a life-ending sort of way. When you least expect it. I don’t care how tough you are or how good your bodyguards are. Sooner or later, you’ll slip up and I’ll be there.” Not an empty threat, she realized. He was good. He was probably way better than she was. But if he harmed her family, he was dead.

Rahal laughed. It sounded menacing, but mischievous, and definitely erotic. It made her shiver with lust right down to the tip of her tail. She hoped she wouldn’t have to cut off her chance to taste more of the beautiful body she’d enjoyed.

“You are so sexy, Xia. Hot and evil and good at the same time, and good’s something I don’t see enough of. You make death threats seem like the most erotic thing ever. I’ve had plenty and, trust me, they don’t usually affect me that way. So I’ll take you up on this, make you the face of my campaign to stop child abuse and slavery. Leave your dads out of it. In exchange, you’ll share my bed every night for as long as I find it entertaining. Which might be a long time.”

A cold lump formed in her stomach at the words share my bed, but she’d find a way to deal. After all, she’d just told him her deep, dark secret, that she’d been a slave herself. And maybe he’d wear her out so much she wouldn’t be able to find the dark place, so he wouldn’t hear her whimper. “Deal,” she said, extending her hand.

He shook her hand. “Deal. But I can think of better ways to formalize it than a handshake.”

She tried to keep her cool. She really did. But what came out of her mouth was “Great stars, yes. Here. Now.”

When you make the Devil’s bargain, be prepared to take the heat. A lot of heat.

Most of cat-girl Xia’s early memories are repressed, thank the Great Cat Mother. But her body remembers how to kill.

The longer she and her fellow Malcolm crewmates are holed up on lawless Cibari hiding from assassins, the twitchier she gets—until the planet’s insanely sexy warlord, Rahal Mizyar, borrows her skills to take out slavers.

Rahal suspects Xia is his mate, but the human-raised female never learned the finer points of felinoid rituals. The solution: make her fall hard and fast for him, even if it means playing dirty.

Hired to determine if Xia is the long-missing granddaughter of the felinoid prime minister, Cal Janssen has finally tracked her down. Getting past Rahal, though, is a problem—until he’s mistaken for a notorious arms dealer and playboy. And he finds himself the object of both Rahal’s and Xia’s seduction.

When their first mission brings Xia’s memories bulleting back to the surface, she realizes she’s fallen for two men who don’t exist. Running away, however, could be her deadliest mistake.

Warning: Contains an assassin with a swiss cheese memory, a badass warlord who’s getting tired of his own con, and a freelance lawman. Secrets, lies, and hot sex with no rules.

Chronicles of the Malcolm Series blurb:

In the 26th century, humans and numerous alien races share the galaxy. Technology has advanced massively. Old Earth is a vast preserve and museum, and humans have spread to the stars. But some things remain the same. Love, lust, and money motivate both humans and other sentient species. Politics can get ugly. And crime can pay very well indeed.

Meet the wacky crew of the independent freighter Malcolm. They usually succeed in keeping things only a little bit illegal. But then a seemingly legit job goes supernova—and they’re on the run, hiding from assassins, a planetary government, and their own dark pasts.

It’s the perfect time to fall in love!

Buy Links: Samhain / Amazon US / Amazon UK /Kobo / Barnes and Noble / All Romance Ebooks / iBooks (iTunes)

Author bio:

Teresa Noelle Roberts started writing stories in kindergarten and she hasn’t stopped yet. A prolific author of short erotica, she’s also a published poet and fantasy writer—but hot paranormals and BDSM-spiced contemporaries were her favorites until she realized science-fiction romances offered new possibilities for outrageous adventure, wild sex and love that overcomes serious obstacles, including being from different species! Find her at www.teresanoelleroberts.com, on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTeresaNoelleRoberts, or on Twitter, where she hangs out as @TeresNoeRoberts.

Jennifer Kacey: Paying It Forward (Contest)

Last weekend I took my miniman to Denny’s to eat Breakfast. It was a mad house. I had to wait to find a place to park. Long line inside but space at the bar. So instead of waiting on a table we just decided to eat at the counter and low and behold we could see in the kitchen and watch the cooking staff, not to mention the interaction with them, the waitstaff and the manager on duty. I’m going to call her Judy, because I didn’t ever get her name!

So, back to my story. Did I mention yet it was a mad house?? Because OMG it was nuts in there. Pretty quick we got our drinks and placed our order. Waitress, Patricia, was super friendly. I figured it was going to be forever til we got food and we settled in to watch the cooks.

Holy. Shit. I have NEVER in my life seen 3 men cook as fast as they did. And they NEVER slowed down. Not once. Only time I saw them pause was when a waitress/waiter needed them to do something. They were immediately on it and then back to the orders. Ticket after ticket they closed.

It was incredible. Kid you not I was freaking in awe. And the waitstaff? They all helped each other. Cleaning tables, taking appetizers and orders out to other peoples’ tables. Fixing issues. And Judy? She wasn’t just standing off to the side and delegating. Hell to the no. She was in the thick of all of it doing everything she could to help her people and get customers taken care of.

Now let me add in the fact I’d been sick with Strep for almost two weeks, working 11hr days at my real job. Exhaustion doesn’t do justice to how I felt that morning. But these people were just awesome AND they saved me from having to cook or clean up for breakfast.

Our food was awesome. Perfect timing on everything. And Judy’s still running around like crazy.

We got finished, I paid, was about to leave but Judy needed to know how awesome they were all doing. So I waited for her to walk back behind the hostess stand, and then I asked to speak with her. She kind of deflated, but said “Absolutely, how can I help you?” On that kind of day, one extra person shoveling shit onto your plate is the worst. So I told her everything I typed above. They were all doing amazing. What a great crew she had working for her and she herself was one of the best restaurant managers I’d ever seen. Keep up the good work and she absolutely gained me as a repeat customer.

OMG you’d think I’d handed her a million dollars. She was so excited and told me I made her day and thanked me for taking the time to tell her. I heard her passing the news to two other people as I was walking out. Paying it forward to a complete stranger who needed a pick me up and a pat on the back made me feel awesome. We need more of THIS in the world to balance out the rest of the meh going around right now.

Speaking of paying it forward — I have a HUGE bag of conference swag to give away! Print books, a bag, bookmarks, pens, buttons and maybe a few naughty somethings throw in to make your heart go pitter pat!! How do you enter to win? Easy!

Just comment below and let me know something you’ve done for a perfect stranger that made their day and yours!! I’ll let my miniman pick a random winner tomorrow. Good luck!!

Decadently Yours,

Jennifer Kacey

Need something to wet your whistle while you wait to see if you won goodies??

May I suggest a delicious bite out of the Members Only series……..

The books in the Members Only Series can be found here…

Together In Cyn

Haleigh’s Ink

A Very Ménage Christmas

Duke’s Valentine

Orgasm University

Accidental Voyeur

Roman’s To-Do List

Jenna’s Consent

Laila’s Lies

Stand Alone

Buried Permission

Beneath the Pages

Nico’s Curse

Elite Metal

Final Surrender

Violet’s Shadow in Romancing the Wolf Anthology

Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her family in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.

Website – http://www.jenniferkacey.com/

Newsletter – http://jenniferkacey.us7.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=f09bd32b8c279cebcc930950e&id=2a45c210e8

Blog – The Decadent Divas – http://www.thedecadentdivas.blogspot.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kacey.7

Facebook Author Page – https://www.facebook.com/jenniferkaceyauthor

Twitter – https://twitter.com/JenniferKacey

Amazon Page – http://www.amazon.com/Jennifer-Kacey/e/B00GXHUB30/ref=s9_simh_gw_p351_d9_al1?_encoding=UTF8&refinementId=618073011&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0G8ZPDQJVKJPKXNBRY10&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1688200382&pf_rd_i=507846

Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6941549.Jennifer_Kacey

Pinterest – http://pinterest.com/jenniferkacey/

 

Pre-order Your Copy of WOLF IN PLAIN SIGHT!

Since I had an author bail on me at the last minute, I had an open spot…

So, since I’m being lazy—I was up at 6:30 to babysit the 2-year-old today, so I’ve earned it!—I thought I’d just post this reminder.

WOLF IN PLAIN SIGHT

Release date: September 22

Free to Kindle Unlimited subscribers!

To Super-cop Max Weir, the only good vampire is a dead one. Since his special police unit integrated with vampires, he’s had to suppress his natural hatred to work side by side with the undead to hunt down and terminate the deadliest killers. Now the unit’s hot on the trail of a new menace in town, a pack of werewolves prowling for vampires who don’t care whether humans get in their way.

When a stakeout goes awry, Max enters a bar looking for a fight or woman to help him blow off a little steam. What he finds is a winsome siren whose sexual appetites match his own.

Vampire Pia D’Amato is on a secret mission to take out Max—either by seduction or turning him. He’s become a liability to the Masters’ Council setting up jurisdiction in southern Florida, and she’s not leaving until she’s done the job. But Max is more man than she bargained for with a deadly secret of his own.

Flashback: Mutiny’s Bounty (Contest)

I’m busy at the moment dreaming up my next Uncharted SEALs adventure, and I got to wondering whether you knew I had a previous ex-SEAL series…

It’s a touch on the zany side because, for the heroines, I played with that old fish-out-of-water trope. They are all travel agents, having to check out the new adventure line of vacations they’re offering their clients, when you guess it—$hit happens.

For Maya in Dangerous Liaison, she’s mistaken for a drug lord’s daughter and kidnapped right out of an anti-terrorist training school.

I’ve given you a taste of Lace’s adventure below—her boat’s about to be hijacked for ransom.

And lastly, Susan in It Takes a SEAL is stranded on a desert island with her hunky SEAL.

I had fun with the stories, even more fun with the titles, they are all derived from movie titles. An author has to find the fun or her work would become drudgery. And of course, I say that while I’m sitting in my pajamas with bed head, while I begin my day’s work… It’s okay to hate me.

Comment for a chance to win Mutiny’s Bounty or a short story on this carousel!

<A HREF=”http://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widg... Widgets</A>

* * * * *

Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.

Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.

“Sweetheart, the sharks are down there.” Ice blue eyes wrinkled at the corners as the man bending over the side of the olive-green skiff pointed a finger into the clear blue depths beneath her.

Did he think she’d missed seeing the swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell you called a group of freaking sharks? They were busy ripping into the grisly bundle of fish parts and guts the dive crew had dropped to the sea floor in a wire basket—which was why she’d hurried over here.

“Exactly! Like any sane person would purposely swim with sharks?” She let her voice frag, then crimped her lips to keep from saying anything else that made her sound like she was twelve. Lace McElhannon was glad she hadn’t given him a snarky wag of her head while she’d said it. But seriously, who would blame her for being snotty? Great White sharks were swimming thirty feet beneath her toes and he wasn’t doing anything about it!

When her yacht-mates had blithely donned their snorkels and goggles then fell backward into the water without a care, she’d only hesitated for a moment. How scary could it be? And the dive team had seemed professional, assuring them the spotters’ job was to watch for any trouble, and they would swoop in to the rescue or drop fresh bait to distract the sharks.

Not until she’d glanced down and seen a dozen huge, sleek bodies—with rows and rows of jagged teeth—circling had she’d freaked out, leaving her ship-mates bobbing on the surface like live bait while she’d struck out toward the skiff.

Fighting for breath, Lace dog-paddled, then swam faster against a rising wave that sent her closer to the skiff’s hull. Salty water splashed into her mouth and she gulped without thinking, coughing and spitting, knowing she looked like an idiot, but her poor swimming skills didn’t have a thing to do with her breathless state. Fear froze her body, making expanding her lungs impossible.

Yes, she’d paid to swim with sharks. Or at least she’d paid for the plane ticket to get here to the Bahamas. But maybe she shouldn’t have watched Susan’s Shark Week DVDs beforehand. Her friend, and partner at the travel agency, had tried to dissuade her from choosing this particular adventure vacation, knowing she’d only ever swum in a heated pool. But who could pass up a week in the Bahamas? She’d had visions of watching the excitement through the window of a glass-bottom boat. But now was not the time to wonder why she hadn’t paid closer attention to Jake Halloran’s description of his “little ocean jaunt.”

“You have to help me up,” she said, sliding up her goggles to let the smirking hunk see her terror-stricken eyes. “I have a cramp.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “We’re not here to rescue clients from their own bad decisions.”

“Make an exception.” She pushed the mouthpiece of her snorkel to the side so he could see the determination thinning her lips.

“Better pull her up, Dex,” another voice above her drawled. “The way she’s splashing, those whites’ll think she’s a fish in distress.”

Dex. So that was his name. But she didn’t have time to savor the mystery that had taunted her since she’d boarded the Clementine three days ago for one of Halloran’s daily jaunts. Despite the amenities aboard the 160-foot motorized luxury yacht behind her, she’d been much more interested in this man than the rock-climbing wall near the upper deck. On their first day aboard the yacht, he’d been introduced as the commander of the guard team providing security for the high-end adventure vacation. Unfortunately, he spent most of his time on the much smaller and faster escort boat which accompanied them while they sailed. She’d really hoped for a chance to get to know him. Everything about him had attracted her—his size, his muscled frame, his icy-cool gaze that landed like a hot laser, making her melt.

Funny how that calculating stare didn’t have the same effect when she was scared.

A rope ladder rolled over the side of the skiff and she swam for it, reaching out and gripping the first rung, doing her best to haul herself up. But she’d been swimming for a good while and her limbs felt like lead weights. She dangled on the rope, half in-half out of the water, catching her breath and staring down to make sure her toes were curled in case the big fishes thought they were sausages. But she’d also watched Jaws. Sharks could lunge upward. Her breath caught in her throat, and she cast a wild glance above her.

A thickly muscled arm shot downward. A steel grip wrapped around one wrist and pulled her up, not releasing until she lay draped over the side of the boat.

She tried to get a leg up and over the side, not caring her ass was on display, but didn’t finish the motion because strong hands gripped her waist and lifted her, setting her on her feet.

She swayed, not having to exaggerate her sigh of relief or the weakness in her knees to get a chance to lean against the firm, hard body she’d been ogling for days. “You saved me,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

His head shook side to side, his chin rubbing her hair. “You weren’t in any danger. Or wouldn’t have been if you’d managed to remain calm. The sharks really are more interested in chum than you.”

Lace shivered and snuggled closer, reminded she wore the teensiest bikini in her bikini wardrobe and she was getting him soaking wet. She’d hoped for a moment like this when she’d seen him in the powerful little skiff, his dark tee hugging well-muscled arms and a lean torso, lightweight black cargo pants doing nothing to hide the thickness of his sturdy thighs, dark sunglasses giving him an added, irresistible air of danger. And he wore combat boots in a boat. How sexy was that?

Her friend Maya had just such a man, someone who’d put himself in the line of fire to keep her friend safe. And why couldn’t she find a hero of her own? Maybe because she was on vacation and only had three days left in the Bahamas? But a lot could happen in three days if a girl wasn’t too fussy about appearing a little desperate, and she and her fellow passengers were heading back to the villa that night for a cozy dinner party.

A throat cleared.

The boat really was small, and three other hotties sat nearby with their gazes trained on her and Dex. But the one who’d dared interrupt them wore a dazzling smile and gave her a wicked waggle of his blond eyebrows.

“Ma’am, you might enjoy watching the sharks from the swimming platform. Stand in the spotter’s cage and look down. The water’s so clear you’ll feel like they’re closer than they are, but you’ll be safe.”

Lace wasn’t interested in the sharks swarming in the water. She liked the one standing so close the heat from his body warmed her head to toe.

But Dex only cupped her elbows, and she’d given him ample opportunity and implicit permission to touch so much more.

Now that the quaking had stopped, she felt her face grow hot. Lace drew away and began to offer him a small smile of apology, but his slitted gaze made a quick trip down her body. Oh. Maybe she hadn’t blown this first encounter after all. Could she use that hint of attraction to wrangle an invitation for drinks after they reached the villa’s dock?

She licked her lips and pouted them. “I guess I should be getting back to my boat…”

“No more shivers?” His voice was deep and slightly husky.

“Only where it counts,” she whispered, arching a brow.

His mouth twitched, but he set her back, his hand trailing from her arms ever so subtly.

Her breath hitched, and she was glad she was already soaking wet because her body was warming, and the evidence of her desire could have been embarrassing.

Dex shot a glance over his shoulder. “Bring the boat around to the platform.”

The engine fired. The escort boat made a slow circle of the yacht, Dex’s large hand at the small of her back to keep her steady. When they bumped softly against the rubberized edge of the platform, he held her hand, not letting it go until she’d stepped safely up onto the lower deck platform. He dropped his hand and began to turn.

Lace reached across and tapped his shoulder.

His face slowly turned, his jaw jutting to reveal a stern, hard line.

Good Lord, that mean look made her hot. “Can I offer you a drink…later…seeing as you saved my life?”

Soft laughter came from his equally well-built friend. Blond brows rose over dreamy brown eyes, and he gave her a slight shake of his head.

She wasn’t deterred. Instead, she steadied her gaze on the dark-haired man with the glacier eyes. “I promise I don’t bite.”

“We’ll see,” he said, then turned away from the platform.

His firm voice didn’t give her an ounce of hope he was serious. Sighing, she turned, giving him a look that conveyed her disappointment, and then  walked away. So maybe the sway of her bottom was anything but natural, but since she was wearing a thong, she knew exactly where his gaze went.

Lace wasn’t giving up. That attitude wasn’t in her DNA. When she wanted something, she went after it. And she wanted him. Yes, every one of his security team members was equally lovely, but he’d challenged her. She flipped back her red hair, but the effect was spoiled as water-soaked tendrils slapped her shoulder.

The sound of the skiff’s motor roaring into life again gave her Dex’s direction. A plan began to form.

One of the crisply uniformed crewmen stepped forward with a towel. “Is there anything else I can bring you, miss?”

Grateful for the distraction, she gave the crewman a smile. “A martini. Very dry. And I want a chaise moved to the high deck.” The skiff was currently bobbing beside the starboard side of the yacht. She’d drink her favorite cocktail atop the upper deck platform—very slowly—and make sure Dex knew she was watching him. And maybe she’d take off her top—to catch the late afternoon rays. None of the wives or girlfriends of the wealthy men who’d actually paid for the trip—she’d been given hers gratis—had been the least bit shy about stripping. So, she wouldn’t be breaching any of the boat’s rules.

The potent drink would give her a little Dutch courage. And maybe he’d think the blush that washed over her skin was solely due to too much sun.

Allegra Gray: 5 Reasons Writing a Book is Like Climbing a 14er (Contest)

5 Reasons Writing a Book is Like Climbing a 14er

For someone with an admittedly short attention span (me), I seem to choose pursuits in life that require an awful lot of perseverance. So today, I’m going to talk about 5 Reasons Writing a Book is Like Climbing a 14er.

For the non-mountaineers reading this, a 14er is a mountain peak above 14,000 feet in altitude. In Colorado, where I live, there are 53 of them. I like hiking in general, but climbing a 14er is not your average scenic hike. We’re talking major elevation gains and decreasing oxygen, people. You have to want this.

At first, it might seem like writing a book—an activity during which you spend a great deal of time with your butt planted in a chair—would not be very much at all like a wilderness excursion requiring considerable physical conditioning.

 
VS.
 

 

 

 

But that would be wrong. Here are 5 ways in which these two activities are similar:

#1 Initial excitement of planning/deciding to do it.

Getting an idea for a new book is exciting. You’re full of ideas, planning new characters, imagining what it will be like when it’s done, and you feel powerful. You know it will be work, but the idea is just so good, it will be worth it. Deciding to climb a mountain, and picking which one, is exciting, too. You’re looking at fantastic photographs other hikers have posted, planning which routes will get you there, what physical training you need to do in the meantime, and imagining the sense of achievement when you stand at the top.

#2 At some point, you are going to ask yourself “why am I doing this?”

Every writer I know of has, at some point, looked at what they’ve written and lost hope. For one reason or another (your plot didn’t hold together as well as you initially thought, or the market for your type of story has just tanked, or any number of other writer-related insecurities), you want to abandon the project.

At some point, while hiking a 14er, many hikers (myself included) are out of breath, battered by wind, out of the ideal shape we promised ourselves we’d be in, and looking ahead at the miles yet to climb, thinking, “why did I think this was a good idea?” It would be much easier to just turn around and head back down…

(Note: with hiking, there can be safety concerns that lead to abandoning a hike. Know the difference between perseverance and foolishness. Lightning, in particular, is no joke if you’re above tree line. If a storm is approaching, get to safety. The mountain will still be there another day.)

#3 You keep going anyway.

Even when every sentence is a struggle, you keep writing. You may walk away from the screen for a little while, but you eventually come back and re-attack the project. Maybe you do have to do some editing, and work on your craft. Or maybe you give yourself permission for that first draft to suck miserably, knowing that you can always edit it later. Whatever. You keep writing, because you know that walking away would lead to regrets you don’t want to live with.

Same with 14ers. If you want to make it to the top, you keep planting one foot in front of the other. You rest, drink some water, and Just. Keep. Going.

#4 Comradery

When you summit a 14er with someone, you share a bond with that person forever. The more epic the mountain, the more epic the bond. Hikers also tend to help one another out—it’s the classic man vs. nature struggle, and all men (and women) on the mountain are in it together.

Authors do the same thing—at least, I’ve been fortunate to meet a lot of authors who think it’s important to help each other be the best we can be, whether that means helping a new writer improve her craft, or helping promote a new book you’re excited about.

#5 The Ultimate Accomplishment

There is no feeling that beats the feeling of typing the words “The End.” Except, maybe, the feeling of reaching the summit of a tough 14er. There’s a reason authors shout it from the rooftops when their book hits the shelves (or goes live at Amazon) – they’ve worked for that day. Same reason you’ll see summit photos plastered all over the walls and social media pages of an avid hiker.

It’s also the feeling that makes both writers and hikers bask in the glory for only a short while…because before long, they need to start planning the next book, or the next peak to climb.

Entrusted: A Relic Guardians Novel

To protect her country’s future, she’ll have to commit treason…

ENTRUSTED by Allegra Gray is a stunning historical Young Adult masterpiece of suspense, hope, and determination. This story follows orphaned Audrey as she’s tasked with keeping ancient relics safe from tyrannical hands and their unholy deeds. With the help of a charming adventurer, Tobias, Aubrey must do all she can to protect the relics she’s been entrusted to guard…even if it costs her life.

Join the Entrusted Blog Tour September 7th to 18th! One grand prize winner will receive a $25 Amazon Gift Card! Enter HERE or through the form below!

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Entrusted

Author: Allegra Gray

Series: Relic Guardians

Genre: Historical Young Adult

Release Date: September 8, 2015

Publisher: Silverthorne Entertainment

Print Length: 85K

Format: Paperback and Digital

Print ISBN: 978-0692486146

Digital ASIN: B011MSIKQ4

Orphan Audrey Thorndale longs for the peaceful life of a convent, but with a younger brother to care for and England’s religious houses falling one by one to Henry VIII’s Reformation, she’ll have to find another way to serve God and country. The Abbot of Glastonbury, aware of Audrey’s dilemma and loathe to see the great treasures of his abbey looted and destroyed, suggests a plan that could save Audrey, the relics, and even the future of Britain…but if she agrees to it, she’ll have to commit treason.

Second son and sometime adventurer, Tobias Seybourne has never left an opportunity unexplored. He’s won the favor of the king, and is aiming for knighthood, when Abbot Whiting offers him the chance of a lifetime—partner with Audrey, and protect England’s greatest legend. Most importantly? Do it without ever giving the king a reason to suspect more devious purposes simmer beneath Tobias’s charming façade.

With help from the abbot, Audrey and Tobias set in motion a plan to ensure that when the abbey walls crumble, one particular treasure will be safely hidden elsewhere.

But as the abbot points out, the king’s minions keep close account of their plunder, and the contents of Glastonbury’s repository are well documented.

With the king’s men bearing down fast, someone must take the fall…

Excerpt:

“You are worried that Glastonbury is in peril, and the treasures it holds will end up in the king’s coffers.”

“Yes—and no.” He eyes me. “It’s more complicated than that. You must not repeat anything you are hearing right now.”

“No, Father Abbot. Never.” If there is one thing I am, it is loyal.

“When I combine what I know—what I, myself have seen and heard—with what the monks who have already lost their homes tell me, I see a future in which certain relics of Glastonbury never make it to the king’s coffers, but are destroyed instead.” He shakes his head sadly. “The idea that the holy relics would go into the king’s hands was disturbing enough, but to destroy them? Sacrilege.

“Again, I must emphasize the importance of not repeating this conversation—to anyone. Not even Sam. The Treason Act is too loosely interpreted these days to take chances.”

I gulp, cursing myself for giving in to curiosity. Now it is my hands that tremble. I should tell him to stop, that I don’t want to hear any more, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I should never have asked what was troubling him. And yet, I have the sense we have set on an irrevocable course, and I must see it through.

Finally, I pry my tongue loose. “I appreciate your honesty, Father Abbot.”

“Should Glastonbury fall, the treasures that can be measured in gold and silver will most certainly find a new home—whether it be the royal treasury or a pilferer’s stash. It is the others that trouble me.”

He rubs his temples, as though even thinking hurts. I begin moving about the room again, straightening things, dusting surfaces…the little, normal, everyday movements that I know, somehow, provide the backdrop of comfort that Abbot Whiting needs right now.

“You remember those visitors from Walsingham? They informed me that the shrine there, the shrine to the Virgin, which the king himself has visited, has been destroyed. The statue of the Virgin removed, the shrine itself despoiled, and the buildings looted. The same happened at Roche Abbey this summer.”

Finally, it sinks in, and I know exactly which of Glastonbury’s relics—one with no value in gold, but still of immeasurable worth—is troubling him so.

I stop dusting. My tongue, now loosened, does not have the sense to stop.

“If Glastonbury falls, what will become of King Arthur?”

Find out more at: Amazon | Kobo | iBooks | ARe

*~*~*

About Allegra Gray:

Allegra Gray grew up with her nose in a book and her head in the clouds—that is, when she wasn’t focused on more practical things like, say, learning calculus. Perhaps all those stories inspired a spirit of adventure, because at the age of seventeen she embarked on a career journey that has (so far) included serving as an officer in the U.S. Air Force, grad school at Virginia Tech, teaching English, and managing defense contracts in the Middle East. The best thing about this breadth of experience? When she tried her hand at writing novels like the ones she’d always loved, she recognized at once that she’d found a true passion. Her forthcoming series, The Relic Guardians, is genre-bending mainstream/historical suspense, inspired by her long-held desire to unveil things obscured by the mists of time. Allegra is also the author of four historical romances, including the “Daring Damsels” trilogy of Nothing But Scandal, Nothing But Deception, and Nothing But Trouble.

Connect with Allegra: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

Lynn Cahoon: Hungry? Read a book

At a conference last week, I had a reader come up to me and tell me she had been so mad at me last night.

I perked up, wondering what she’d either taken offence at or really loved. I hoped she was going to say my hooks kept her going chapter after chapter.

Her next sentence surprised and delighted me.

“Greg and Jill sat down to eat and you described the food so well, I wanted my own order of Diamond Lille’s meatloaf platter.” She continued, “I had to go raid the fridge.”

I thought a lot about what this reader had said and then realized my characters have a love affair with food because as their author, I do too. I won’t ever be the one to write a book where the scenes go on without a speck of food consumed from first to last page. I’m more like Tolkien in that manner, and my characters more like Merry and Pippen who not only expect second breakfast on their quest, but also elevenies. Which is a delightful idea to implement in most work places.

I’d warned my roommate before we even got on the plane to go to New Orleans that for me, it was all about the food. Experimenting, tasting, learning new techniques, my trip was filled with overwhelming smells and tastes.

And my writing is the same. I want my characters to experience living on the California coast line through their taste buds. Jill has a scene where she’s grabbing one last clam from the waitress before the bucket is taken away to be packed up as leftovers.  I can totally see myself doing that when interrupted from a meal I was enjoying.

The current book I’m writing has a Carmel Apple Cheesecake mentioned on page one. I’m trying out a similar recipe on my day job co-workers in a few weeks.  Hey, writing has it’s privileges and if I get to eat vicariously through the choices of my characters, the better for me. Especially as I’m eating a salad and drinking water for lunch as I write this blog.

I’m putting up a Pumpkin Cheesecake recipe on my blog this week. (www.lynncahoon.com) Come visit if you want. Coffee will always be fresh and in my imaginary kitchen, treats like those from Pies on the Fly will be available 24/7. With no calorie counting.

Jill Gardner—owner of Coffee, Books, and More—has somehow been talked into sponsoring a 5k race along the beautiful California coast. The race is a fundraiser for the local preservation society—but not everyone is feeling so charitable…

The day of the race, everyone hits the ground running…until a local business owner stumbles over a very stationary body. The deceased is the vicious wife of the husband-and-wife team hired to promote the event—and the husband turns to Jill for help in clearing his name. But did he do it? Jill will have to be very careful, because this killer is ready to put her out of the running…forever!

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author, Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho expat. She grew up living the small town life she now loves to write about. Currently, she’s living with her husband and two fur babies in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap series won the 2015 Reader’s Crown award for Mystery Fiction.

 

**EVERYONE WINS**

I woke up late today. I babysat last night and I’m just a little tired. Add the fact, I didn’t get my swim in yesterday, and the world just doesn’t feel right. So, I’ll make it easy on myself today and do something I love doing when I’m at a Facebook party. You get to do a little bit of work—not much—and I get to sit back and read the fun answers!

Here’s the work…

1) Subscribe to my newsletter and tell me you did (I’ll trust you): My Newsletter

2) Follow my Amazon.com author page and tell me you have: My Amazon Author Page

3) This isn’t required, but you can subscribe to my blog by scrolling down the left-hand column of this page, looking for “Subscribe to blog via email”.  That way, you’ll never miss a contest or a free read!

In addition to telling me you’ve done the things I’ve asked, answer this question, and then take a look at my Short Stories page to choose one free read (from the top three rows) for yourself…

If you could be magically transported into any television series world,

which would you choose to live inside?

*~*~*

THESE STORIES ARE NOT PART OF THE GIVEAWAY!

However, they are free if you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber!

If you love hot, sexy SEALs and an adrenaline-pumped story, don’t miss the first three stories in the Uncharted SEALs series, including my latest release, Through Her Eyes.

  

Click on the covers to learn more and to purchase!

Caroline Clemmons: The Surprise Brides (Contest)

Thank you, Delilah, for having me as your guest today.

Isn’t Fall a wonderful time of year? I’m looking forward to cooler weather. To me, the air thrums with excitement due to so many plans and projects. Writing is my passion, but I love the upcoming holidays.

What’s your favorite thing about Fall? I’m giving away a copy of

THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE to one person who tells me.

Several of us were talking this summer about that old movie “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” and thought we’d do a spin on it. We didn’t want our historical brides kidnapped and we didn’t want them stranded in a blizzard with no way to marry. So, one of the brothers is a minister. To ease your mind, no, there is no singing in these books.

We have four brothers aged from twenty-two to thirty-two who need brides. At least, their mother thinks they do. (Yeah, all mothers think that, don’t they?) This mother takes matters into her own hands, though. The four mail-order brides arrive in a blizzard that locks everyone on the ranch for almost a week. The mother convinces the four couples to go through with the wedding.

All four stories are filled with conflicts to be overcome. Mine is slightly sensual but not steamy. I believe the other four are the same—the parts I’ve read are. But they are all fun adventures for anyone who enjoys the “fish out of water” of a mail-order bride story.

You probably guessed that my latest project is THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE, one of four books simultaneously released about four brothers in Angel Springs, Colorado. One determined mama, four reluctant brothers, four mail-order brides. Meet Jamie, Caleb, Gideon and Ethan. Jamie is the eldest brother, a widower with two rowdy young children. These four books are released simultaneously by Cynthia Woolf (Gideon), Callie Hutton (Caleb), Sylvia McDaniel (Ethan), and me (Jamie).

Olivia Stewart risks everything to accomplish her dreams. She’s tired of being pitied because she’s been jilted, tired of teaching other people’s children without any of her own. When she signs with a matrimonial agency, a letter from Jamie Fraser sounds perfect. A widower with two young children will give her a head start on the family she’s determined to have. Olivia learns Colorado holds surprises that endanger her goals and even her life.

Circle F Rancher Jamie Fraser is shocked to learn his mother has written for a mail-order bride for him. He has two children and no plan to marry again. Ever! His late wife taught him women can’t be trusted. Even his beloved mother isn’t above tricking her sons to achieve her heartfelt ambitions. Now he’s stuck with a wife he didn’t want—a stubborn woman bent on changing his home and his life.

Can two strong people at odds achieve happiness? Angel Springs, Colorado is a small town that inspires big dreams. Olivia and Jamie just might find their dreams meld to form a powerful and enduring love.

THE SURPRISE BRIDES: JAMIE buy link at Amazon is: http://amzn.com/B015272I3W where it’s available in print and e-book. It’s also available at other online retailers.

Here’s a short excerpt:

That night when Olivia and Jamie were in their room, she slowly undressed. All day she’d thought about what she would say. How naïve to think she could trust this man so easily. How stupid she’d been not to ask more questions before surrendering to him.

Somehow, she had the sense of having been cheated in the marriage bed. She had no real experience to go on because she had no one in whom she could confide. Judging by the novels she’d read, though, there should have been talk after their coming together.

She faced him. “Jamie, why did you go through with the wedding?”

He sat on the bed holding the boot he’d just removed then set it on the floor. “No choice.”

What a maddening answer. She wanted to plant her fist on his handsome chin. Instead, she took a deep breath before speaking and exhaled slowly.

“Of course you had a choice. You’re the head of the family and could have refused and sent me back where I came from or set me up in town so I could meet someone else. Barring that, you could have paid me off and sent me to Denver. There’s always a choice.”

He shook his head as he started on his shirt buttons. “Not in this case. Any of those options would have caused talk. After you’d been here several nights, your reputation would have been compromised.”

“If I weren’t here, why would that matter to you?”

His hands stilled. “Ah, well, because Mama’s reputation would also have been damaged, as she pointed out to us boys.” He removed his shirt and hung it on the bedpost.

As she unfastened the ties of her petticoats, a horrible thought occurred to her and she froze. “Do you mean you don’t want more children?”

His powerful chest muscles rolled with a shrug. “Wouldn’t mind, now that we’re wed, but I was content with Jake and Cat. Matter of fact, earlier today I mentioned how nice life would be with us brothers taking our kids to visit with their cousins.” He stood and unbuttoned his pants.

She turned her back and slid off her clothes then quickly pulled on her gown. “Weren’t you lonely?”

Her back was to him and she couldn’t see his expression, but his voice sounded hard, “Look, Olivia, you seem like a nice enough woman, attractive, and intelligent. Sorry as I am you were brought here under false pretences, I don’t know what you expected to find.”

Again, she froze for a moment. Attractive? He thought she was attractive? When she turned around, he was sitting up in bed with the sheet at his hips. How could she concentrate on the conversation with all those rippling muscles and skin in sight?

Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling and award winning author of historical and contemporary western romances. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.

Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys family, reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, and getting together with friends. Find her on her blog, website, Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Google+,  Shelfari, and Pinterest.