Liz Crowe's Blog, page 24

November 23, 2012

WINNERS + Would You Like Some Honey With That?

Greetings loyal Liz fans, followers, stalkers, creepers and yes you haters---I see you out there.

Time for a bit of housekeeping. First, the 2 winners of the free copy of VEGAS MIRACLE based on their correct answer to my question and a random drawing:

Buffy Kennedy
and
Eva's Flowers
I'll be sending you both emails tonight and CONGRATS!!!!

As promised, I am revealing the very cool cover for HONEY RED, my latest menage, releasing Dec. 30, just in time for you to use all your online gift certificate bucks!

This cover reflects several things, but most importantly I love it because the art director for my brewery designed it based on a beer label that is an important part of the story. "Honey Red" is the name of a beer that is created by the main characters. Her "look" will make more sense once you read it of course, but in meantime I LOVE THIS THING!!

BLURB:

Two men suffering from visible and invisible wounds meet by chance circumstance.
Nick Traynor and Ian Donovan spend a lot of time and effort keeping it very hot, only physical, and purely superficial. But when their resolve starts to slip, a woman is tossed into their midst.
Hannah Williams wants nothing more than to do her job until something better comes along, but is forced to own up to her visceral reaction to Ian, her new boss, and later to Nick, his sometimes lover.
Lust has a funny way of turning into companionship, and eventually evolving into a deeper connection. Faced with the internal and external complications of their potential three-way relationship, they begin to heal and trust, to consider that it might work. Then life tosses them a hardball, forcing them back into their respective corners, where each must choose what is most important.
Three people determined not to commit, thrown together by fate and undeniable attraction--their nights heat up and emotions run high in spite of a claimed mutual desire to "keep it simple." In the process of honest self-discovery, can they learn that while love is never simple, it is definitely worth fighting for?

Interested? I have one VERY steamy excerpt posted in my 'ROMANCE FOR REAL LIFE' group (click the link to get to it and ask to join). This is a group where we chat about Liz books and characters, our own lives and you get treated to DELETED SCENES and big-time exclusives.

Honey Red: Releasing in e-book format 12/30/12. Print later in 2013.

cheers!
happy shopping/drinking
Liz

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Published on November 23, 2012 16:41

November 11, 2012

Sorcha Talks Victorian Beer

Love Redeemed Blog Tour: Victorians and BeerSince I’m here at Brewing Passions I thought I should be talking about beer. I am a big fan of beer. I like light beer and dark beer and red beer and—well you get the point. I like beer. Some of my favorites are: Blue Moon, Newcastle Brown Ale, and Smithwicks. My new release Love Redeemed is set in the Victorian era, and though I don’t show my characters drinking beer, I wanted to talk about Victorian era beer. Britons have been making beer for hundreds of years by the time the Victorian era rolled around. Legally SpeakingSome of the first legislation regarding the making of beer prohibited the use of other cereals in brewing while taxing malt as early as 1660. Then just before the start of the Victorian Era in 1816 a British law forbade the use of any ingredients other than malt and hops. In response to this law, Daniel Wheeler invented the drum roaster which allowed for the creation of very dark, roasted malts, contributing to the flavor of porters and stouts. The British made various changes on how beer and ale was taxed generally switching between taxing the ingredients and taxing the final product. By 1880 the government settled on taxing beer based on the original gravity of the wort. The Free Mash Tun Act resulted in a tax due at the end of the month.As soon as the wort had run into the fermenting tun, it was checked by an Excise Officer to determine its volume and gravity. This was the basis on which beer duty was calculated. An allowance of 6% was made by the Excise for losses during fermentation. At the end of each month a calculation was made to convert the total amount of beer brewed into its equivalent in standard barrels. (Source: "Principles & Practice of Brewing" by Walter J. Sykes & Arthur R. Ling, 1907, pages 528-529.)Free Mash Tun Act, Shut Up About Barclay PerkinsThe focus on the sugar content of the wort prior to fermentation occurred after a bad barley harvest. The poor harvest came with insistence by colonial sugar growers that sugar cane should be allowed in beer. Technologically SpeakingIn 1857 Louis Pasteur gave brewers methods to prevent the souring of beer with the understanding of yeast's role in the fermentation process. Beer was brewed at home or in the alehouse where it was sold, and they had a difficult time brewing it when it was very cold or very warm. So often times beer was brewed and stored, and when it was sold it was labeled with the month it was brewed as a measure of the quality of the product. This practice was seen as late as the 1860’s. This is when chemistry began to play a role in brewing and technology began to shift the craft of brewing into an industry, which was complete by the 1880s. Brewers tested their water for minerals, looking for different concentrations of minerals to brew a specific type of beer, and steam powered equipment made it possible to brew year round. “The predominant beers of the day were dark quite sweet and malty—and often served at different alcoholic strength—strong ale, medium ale and weak ale made from different exracts [sic] of the same brew.”History of Beer, The Beer AcademySo, do you have a beer preference? Ale? Lager? Porter? Stout? Maybe a favorite brand? Are you not a beer drinker? What do you prefer to drink instead?
Resources:A Brief History of Beer, The Beer AcademyHistory of Beer, WikipediaThe Bitter Truth About Victorian Beer, More Intelligent Life.com from The EconomistFree Mash Tun Act, Shut Up About Barclay Perkins

Website | Twitter | Facebook| Pintrest | GoodReads | Kindlegraph

Love Redeemed Blog Tour & Giveaway:At each stop of the blog tour I will give away a copy of Love Revealed (Book 1) of the series. At the end of the 11 day tour a grand prize of a $25 All Romance eBook (ARe) store gift card and one copy of my back list will be given away to one lucky winner.Rules (Cause you know there have to be rules!)
1. Winners of the individual blog stops will not be eligible to win the grand prize
2. One comment per stop will be eligible for the drawings (so be sure to answer my questions!)
3. The contest is open internationally
4. Commenters must include an email so they can be contacted
5. Any prize not claimed within 48hrs will be subject to forfeiture and a new winner drawn
Love Redeemed (Book 2, The Market Series)Brennan Whitling wants for nothing but the love of a good woman. He has a close family, good friends, and a successful textiles import business. But, a beautiful and elusive young woman he has only seen from afar haunts him. Until a chance meeting leads to far more than dinner.Serena Freemont has only ever known the life of a prostitute. When an invitation to dinner by a handsome gentleman provides her an opportunity to experience life as a young lady, it’s too tempting to pass up. Much like the man issuing it. After a night of passion she must disappear or face his reaction when the truth is revealed.To find happiness Serena must shed her past long enough to realize she is worthy of a future. To win her heart, Brennan must show her the redemptive power of love.
Excerpt:“Are you all right, Miss?”For a moment, for this moment, she was a normal young woman experiencing the attentions of a handsome young man. Heat crept up her cheeks as he held her hatbox out, and the burning had nothing to do with the sun. “I-I— Yes, I am. Thank you.” His blue-gray eyes seemed to bore into her. “I am so glad. I was sure you were a goner there for a moment.” He flashed a brilliant grin liquefying Serena’s insides instantly. “Please let me introduce myself. I’m Mr. Brennan Whitling of Whitling Textiles Importers and Wholesalers.” “How do you do, Mr. Whitling?” Serena allowed her lips to curve up ever so slightly. “I am Miss Serena Freemont.”“It is a pleasure. Might I interest you and your”—he glanced around the bustling street as his grin faded in confusion— “chaperone in a cup of tea?”A wave of horror swept over Serena. Chaperone? Harlots did not require one of those. “Oh, Aunt Henrietta is in the bookstore, and I fear she will be in there a very long time. I am certain she won’t notice if we slip off for a quick spot of tea.” “Excellent! There is a lovely little shop just up the street.” A beautiful smile spread across his face, causing her pulse to quicken. He escorted her up the block where they stopped at a quaint little teashop. They settled in at a table and ordered a pot of tea. “What has you on Bond Street today, Mr. Whitling?” They sat in semi privacy at the back of the shop.“Oh, I was visiting some of my customers and taking new orders. I am very glad I was there to help you, and by virtue of said assistance make youracquaintance.” Did his already deep voice grow huskier? Their tea service arrived, dispelling the moment. “As am I. Landing on my backside in the middle of the street would have been rather embarrassing. But in truth, thank you for your assistance today, and now the tea.” She lifted her freshly prepared cup to her lips and took a dainty sip from the delicate china. Through lowered lashes, she watched his graceful movements as he prepared his own. “It is my pleasure on both accounts. You seem familiar to me. Have we met somewhere before? A ball perhaps?”

BioSorcha Mowbray is a mild mannered office worker by day…okay, so she is actually a mouthy, opinionated, take charge kind of gal who bosses everyone around; but she definitely works in an office. At night she writes romance so hot she sets the sheets on fire! Just ask her slightly singed husband.She is a long time lover of historical romance, having grown up reading Johanna Lindsey and Judith McNaught. Then she discovered Thea Devine and Susan Johnson. Holy cow! Heroes and heroines could do THAT? From there, things devolved into trying her hand at writing a little smexy. Needless to say, she liked it and she hopes you do too!

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Published on November 11, 2012 23:00

November 4, 2012

Liz Loves Nicola's Books

Greetings from the "Holy Sh*t I Am Exhausted-slash-Exhilerated" headquarters.

Today was my first hometown bookstore book signing event. My publisher and I have been prepping for this for a long time. We have ads, promos, efforts, blood, sweat and tears into this thing. If you are unaware, these sorts of events do not just...happen. One must make contact, keep contact, foster contacts and then schedule and promote LIKE MAD.

Which we did.

There was a lovely turn out.

I am pleased to note that Nicola's will be stocking the entire Stewart Realty series AND Paradise Hops once it hits print in a week or so. I'm also gratified to say that the Ann Arbor libraries have 2 copies of each of the Stewart Realty books on the shelves. AND Nicola's books is eager to work with me to promote some more. We are...just so you know...planning a Valentine's Day bash. More details on this later.

I had fans come from as far away as Toronto. I had fans travel en masse from Illinois hang out for the ENTIRE weekend, posting locations around Ann Arbor that I had featured or mentioned in the realty series. I had fellow Realtors, early adopter/readers and other surprise fans both at Nicola's and later at the Tap Room when I walked by a table of women who'd had beer and pizza and finally stopped me to ask me: "Hey, are you Liz? We are HUGE fans!" They'd come from Jackson and Dexter just to hang in the Tap Room to meet me.

Wow.

It's a little surreal. But a total buzz. And makes all the VERY VERY (very) hard work of bringing this complex, layered, hot and emotional series to light during 2012 well worth it.

I thank you. I thank my publisher and my family. And I give you....the book shelf.

Happy Reading.
Liz

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Published on November 04, 2012 18:27

October 23, 2012

Drum Roll Please...............

Introducing the OFFICIAL kick off post....the ESCALATION CLAUSE countdown to release has begun!
*insert confetti toss and fist pump, plus distinctive beer glass clink*

Escalation Clause: Stewart Realty Book 6 releases November 4, 2012 with a book signing at Nicola's Bookstore in Ann Arbor!

I am so honored to be continuing this series. There are 2 more books planned within its scope plus the off shoot Black Jack Gentlemen Series and a potential series involving The Suite in Detroit.

So here are the Need to Knows:
the cover

the blurb:
 <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Young love burns hot and bright. Soul mates are found, then lost in the blink of an eye. When young widow Maureen Gordon Taylor meets her daughter's sexy soccer coach, her body and heart slowly unthaw. But will holding tight to the past cost her a future? </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">A devastating blow shatters a family's fragile happiness. Rob Freitag and Lila Warren now confront life</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">without</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">the emotional glue that once bound them, but a shared goal brings them back together.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"> Is</span><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;"> it enough to make them whole again and become the family they were meant to be?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">Mutual trust is hard won for the Gordons. When tragedy strikes, Jack and Sara’s lives are sent into a tailspin. To keep her family from falling apart, she must force Jack to admit his deepest fears. After everything they’ve been through, can they revive the spark and move to the next stage of marital fulfillment?</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri;">The sweeping saga of the Stewart Realty series continues as long-time friends learn to rely on each other, and to grab hold of happiness before it's too late<span style="color: #1d3a68;">.</span> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16.0pt;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br />the excerpts (rated)<br /><style> <br /><div class="MsoNormal">PG 13 for language:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The sunlight pierced the light haze of his sleep. Brandis groaned, rolled over seeking shade and found himself hand-and-kneeing it facing the brick pavers of his parents’ patio. “Christ in a sidecar what time is it?” He mumbled, flipping around so he sat, back against the chaise lounge that must have served as his bed for the night. Not that he recalled anything after the second joint. He groaned and ran a hand down his already sweaty face. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Jack walked out the back door, Mountain Dew in hand, dressed for work at his father’s construction site for the day. Brandis blinked at his friend. “How in the hell can be so awake and non-hung over? I feel like three day old shit.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“You look like it, too.” Jack slammed the remaining soda and threw the can into the returnables' bin. “You taking those back today? We need food at the house while you’re at it.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Brandis flipped him off. “I look like your personal shopper?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“No,” Jack sat, laced his work boots up then leveled a deep blue stare at him. “You look like a guy lucky enough not to have to work on the Saturday after a giant pool party.” His friend leaned forward on his knees and gave Brandis an ominous look. “You also look like the guy who could possibly be messing around with my sister. I don’t recommend you be that guy. Not at all.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“I’m…” Brandis started to say something, but he had nothing, so he stayed quiet. Jack stared him down, turned on his heel then left, letting the gate bang loud behind him. Brandis crawled to the edge of the pool, noted all the shit he needed to clean out of it including at least two condoms, then stuck his feet into the cold water, groaning when his temples started pounding to the beat of his heart. He put his head in his hands. Mo was the first thing he saw when he closed his eyes. Her bright blue eyes snapping with laughter, anger, and…desire … God help him, he had nursed a crush on her for years.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She’d been such a tomboy, running with him and Jack, tagging along then joining in the baseball, basketball, soccer whatever they concocted, up to and including egg throwing at Halloween and more less innocent vices. Their easy camaraderie had always allowed them to wrestle, to tickle, to touch. After she’d shown up at his house last month, determined to escape her jerk-off father, he thought he could just ease back into it. But, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, and in that time, she had become a full-fledged, jaw-dropping woman. Her tall, athletic frame was lush, lovely, full-hipped and inviting. The deep blue of her eyes and inky black fall of her hair made him want to bury his hands in it, to kiss her until she begged for more.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">So, it seemed, his crush had bloomed into full-blown lust. A desire she apparently matched.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No way.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">He’d heard Jack’s message loud and clear. And as much of a man-whore as Brandis was, he was a loyal friend. So, Mo was off limits. Fine. He did not need that hassle, not now, with just a month and a half before he left for Colorado.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">He leaned back on his hands and willed his cock soft, but the memory of her lips, and the feel of her skin against his if just for that one moment was not something he would soon forget. When he’d fucked that girl in the basement then realized Mo had been down there, watching them, it had taken him a couple of seconds to acknowledge he’d been picturing her beneath him, her body taking his, the sounds of her climax in his ears the entire time. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What a fucking mess.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Hey,” he nearly jumped a mile into the air at the sound of her voice. “I, um, just want to say, you know, well…” She sat a couple of feet from him and let her feet dangle in the water. “Sorry.” She looked straight ahead.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“For what?” He cleared his throat, nervous beyond belief. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“For spying on you. I mean, I wasn’t, I was getting a drink and just kind of … oh hell. You know what I mean.” She looked down into the water. “This pool is disgusting.” She shoved a greasy looking floating seat away with her foot. “Are those…” She pointed to the used rubbers on the bottom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Yeah,” he ran a hand down his face, then jumped up and grabbed the skimmer. He cleared the condoms, a bottle of sunscreen and three beer cans from the pool, trying to ignore her. But his baser self would not cooperate and he had to grab a towel and fasten it around his waist to hide the damn tent in his shorts. She moved all the chairs back into their usual places and cleaned off the two glass-topped tables, finding yet another rubber in the grass near the back fence. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“You guys sure do know how to throw a party.” She smiled at him, lifting his heart and making his damn cock pound in time with his headache. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Huh,” he grunted, before turning the water on to refill the pool and taking a reading on the chemicals. Sweat dripped off his forehead, blurring his vision. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fuck it was hot out already and it was barely eight o’clock in the morning.</i> She crouched down next to him, her arm grazing his, making him flinch. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Crush, Brandis. Remember? She is a no-go zone. Don’t do it.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">PG:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Sara handed Lila another tissue, but her own eyes stayed dry. Observing the slow dissolution of her brother’s remaining family hurt, but pretty much everything hurt these days. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">It was just, as they say, one more thing. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She patted the woman’s shaking shoulders, listened to her rant about Rob. But she hardly heard anything. The bubble wrap that seemed to encase her had not loosened as she hoped and prayed it would. And after a year, the wall between her and Jack approached Chinese construction standards. She watched, numb, while Katie and Maddie rolled around on the floor with their little brothers. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Sara,” Lila said.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She turned her head slowly, noted she was late for work . “Yeah, sorry.” She tried a smile, but the other woman’s face remained frowning. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Are you okay?” Lila’s black hair was shorter these days, and framed her heart-shaped face. Sara tried to focus on anything beyond that. Katie yelled when one of the little boys bopped her on the head with a plastic toy. The dog barked, wanting food. Her head pounded, throat ached with unshed tears. People needed her. She rose, pressed her skirt down.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Yes, no, who knows. But I am late for work. Will you be all right here with all this chaos?” She pointed to the kids on the floor. “The nanny will be here at noon. I … Jack was supposed to be home already.” she looked up, confused when she heard the door open, and the clink of keys, watch and fountain pen being deposited in their appointed spaces on the table by the front door. “He flew in on the red eye from the west coast last night,” Sara sat back down, suddenly exhausted and needing her husband’s arms around her more than her next meal. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Jack strolled in, still dressed in dark suit pants and a thoroughly travel-wrinkled white shirt. Her heart did its usual roll at the sight of him. But he didn’t look at her. More than once she’d demanded time to talk, requested his undivided attention for some serious conversation about his distance. He kept coming up with excuses to avoid her and given how chaotic their lives were with two kids, a dog and very busy careers, excuses were easy to come by. So she had held back the one thing she knew he required, telling him flat out that she would not be sleeping with him until they cleared the air with a long talk. They had not had sex, or actually exchanged words beyond the necessary logistics of work and children for seven months. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Jack smiled down at Katie who’d latched onto him, kissed her and was staring down at the two little boys. Brandis was standing up holding onto the couch, a recent trick and one Sara had dreaded since it meant mobility for a kid who was never still anyway. He made his slow way to the edge of the leather ottoman glaring at Gabriel whose bright blond hair was back lit from the sun coming through the large window. They were in a mortal battle over a single dump truck and warfare was escalating fast. Brandis had already pushed Gabe down on his butt once, but the other boy quickly recovered. In a funny toddler attempt at diversion, he’d handed Brandis a matchbox car giving Gabe enough time to grab the obnoxiously orange truck and drop to his knees to make a swift crawling getaway. Since Brandis seemed stuck hanging onto the furniture, he wailed and threw the car, hitting his sister in the temple, then dropped to all fours and chased Gabe to the kitchen. Katie followed them. “Mom!” She yelled. “They’re feeding the dog Cheerios. That okay?”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">By the time Jack had arrived Brandis was in full-throated fury, just as Sara was trying to leave the house. The boy made a crawling beeline for his father, and Gabe followed. He was already pretty steady on his feet, the cheap plastic toy clutched to his chest as if it were the Hope diamond. The dog brought up the rear, lapping up the little round circles of processed sugar dropped in their wake. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Hey sport,” Jack plucked his son from the floor, kissed him then did a double take when he saw the other boy. “Well hello there. Little Rob. Wow.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Sara watched the scene unfold, silent, but thankful he at least acknowledged his own son. Since Brandis had such a raging temper he was usually screaming about something or throwing things or in his crib for a time out, which meant Jack could ignore him, leaving the discipline to her. Gabe stared up at Jack, thumb in his mouth, the truck still held tight.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Pa!” Brandis glared at his father. “Mine.” He pointed down at Gabe. Brandis had developed clear speech patterns early and was on the verge of walking at a year as well. The kid was an eerie mirror image of the man holding him, Sara observed for the thousandth time. Jack bent down and put Brandis on the floor. The boy lunged for the truck but his father held him back.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“No. Share,” he said, reaching over and snagging one of the zillions of trucks scattered around the room. “Yours.” He pressed an identical cheap blue dump truck to Brandis’ small chest. The boy’s face lit up with joy and he dropped to all fours and rolled the thing back to the kitchen with Gabe tottering along behind, so they could resume kitchen demolition by cereal. The eager dog scampered after them. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">XXX:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“It’s not rocket science. Neither of you guys were cut out to manage a restaurant that’s all. You wanted to manage your kitchen, Blake his brewery. And you kept hiring dumbasses to handle the front of the house for you. I’m organized and know how to deal with the staff. No big deal.” She started to sit but Rob gripped her arm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Please, come back home, Lila. I…I miss you, I miss us so much.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She shivered at his words. “I don’t know, Rob. I mean, maybe you and I aren’t meant to be. Not without—”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Rob’s broad shoulders slumped and he looked so completely bereft it was almost funny, if it weren’t so shitty. She let her gaze travel down his apron-covered torso and her palm itched to untie it, to hold him and kiss him until he couldn’t stand it another minute. A bright pulse of erotic energy hit her core, making her gasp. She watched him clench and unclench his fists, then sit again, running his hand through his hair. She couldn’t resist. She touched it, ran her fingers through its silky yellow softness. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">The bartenders called out and she waved to them. The main lights flickered then went off, plunging them into dark. His eyes held hers, their deep brown lit from the street. “I need you,” she whispered. Then she pulled him to his feet, wrapped herself around him. The kiss spoke words she wished she could say, and hoped he heard. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Just when he gripped her hair to hold her closer she tore herself away. “I need this,” she whispered as she untied his apron. He stayed still as it dropped to the floor and she popped the button on his jeans. “Please,” she leaned into his ear as she slid the zipper down and fisted his shaft. He groaned as she pushed him back towards the bar then went down on her knees. He tasted just like she remembered, and the tilt of hips, the sweet sound of his moans as she kept her fist moving and sucked the head of his cock between her lips were like music to her ears. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She slipped her other hand under his balls, stroked the smooth skin there. He gripped her hair. “Lila,” He grunted. “Stop.” But she didn’t. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Suddenly she was on her feet, folded into his arms and he was bending her back over the table, sending all their charts, phones and one empty beer glass to the floor. He ripped her panties off with one flick of his wrist, shoved her skirt up. “Oh, yes. Robert,” she threaded her fingers in his hair, met his lips and they cried out as one. The glorious feel of her man inside her, finally, again, made her want to cry but she didn’t. “Fuck me, hard. Now.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“God,” He gripped her ass, thrust deep and slow then withdrew, biting down on her lower lip when she tightened herself around him. “Oh hell yes,” He moaned into her neck increasing his rhythm, pounding into her, making the table’s iron base screech against the concrete floor. She wrapped her legs around him, leaned her head back and let the orgasm lift her, take her and spin her around. “Damn, I have missed that,” He said, looking deep into her soul as she pulsed and thrummed from the climax. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">She held his face in her hands, kept moving her hips. “Come now, Robert. Give it to me. Give me all of it.” He shuddered, then kissed her and did as he was told. She shivered, held him close. “I love you. But I’m not moving back in. Not yet. We have a long way to go and I want to make sure you’re sure. That you aren’t just doing this because you think you have to. Because of Gabe, or Blake’s memory or whatever.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">He withdrew from her, stood, and zipped his jeans back up. She sat on the edge of the table, terrified but certain. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“That’s fine,” he picked up the apron. “I’ll get the broom.” He started to turn but she grabbed his arm.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">“Don’t shut down on me. I mean it. I want us to handle this together. To grieve together. And I want to plan a two-year memorial for him at the lake house.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Rob shut his eyes. But she kept talking. “Listen to me, please.” He opened them, and the pain there she knew matched what she felt every damn day. “I want you, I want us to be together. I want another baby. I want to sell that house filled with everything that was Blake and buy another one. But I want something else even more. I want you to be certain you really love me.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">He sucked in a breath, let the silence spin out about a half minute too long for her taste. She let go of him. “I’ll clean it up. Go home. Gabe’s at your house this week, and we both know he won’t sleep unless you’re there.”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">Rob opened his mouth, but Lila shook her head. Proud of herself but at the same time in misery for what she may still yet lose, she watched as he went out the back door of the kitchen without another word.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .3in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><br /><br />and........hold onto your panties kids.....the trailer! (it rocks)<br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/iowrG0V__cI" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />the buy links:<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_nos..." target="_blank">Stewart Realty series books 1-5 AND a pre-order link for the paperback of Escalation Clause</a><br /><br /><a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/prod..." target="_blank">Pre order for Ebook of Escalation Clause (all formats)</a><br /><br />FLOOR TIME (book one) is kick ass and taking names sales-wise! Get started on this compelling series today! You still have time to read the first 5.....<br /><a href="http://www.brewingpassion.com/2012/10..." target="_blank"><br /></a><a href="http://www.brewingpassion.com/2012/10..." target="_blank">Click here for my favorite excerpts from the first three.</a><br /><br /><br />Arriba!<br />Liz<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div>

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Published on October 23, 2012 22:00

October 12, 2012

Me and Avis....

You know, "Avis Car Rental" as in "We're #2 why try harder?"

Yeah....so there is this way cool list on Facebook now: What to Read After 50 Shades of Grey. The top 50 books are tracked there based on actual sales and author/reader promotion on the list.

When it started it seemed like a great way to find a few more readers for my Stewart Realty series, which has a mild BDSM theme but does not beat it to death, so to speak, like some. It is neither the reason nor the driving force of the series but explores the psychology of trust in a loving relationship as relates to the trust required by all parties participating in bondage or sadomasochistic play. I will take this moment to thank Summer Daniels for putting the list concept together---you rock sister.

Floor Time: Stewart Realty Book one jumped onto the top 50 list and made its way into the top 10 by June. I'm proud to say that the book has remained at #2 bracketed by a couple of NYTimes Best seller types for many weeks.

This series is not for everyone as it pushes the boundaries of what could be considered formula romance while keeping an eye on the prize: the glittering, glorious Happily Ever After that is so a part of our jargon, the damn USA Today paper has an entire blog devoted to it, called "HEA USA Today."

Don't get me wrong. I will get you to the HEA, but not without some real work on the part of my characters, and of you as a reader.

I'm of a mind today to excerpt the first 3 books in the series--the "Jack/Sara centric" story that began the whole saga which has morphed into a 9 book series, 5 of which are released, the 6th due out Nov. 4 at a book signing here in my fair city of Ann Arbor, Michigan.

So....here are in order Blurbs and a telling VERY short excerpt from each novel.

FLOOR TIME

blurb: Jack Gordon is Ann Arbor's most delectable bachelor. At age thirty-five, he's made millions as a top-selling Ann Arbor real estate broker and has the right connections to close a deal by any means necessary. With his rugged good looks and compelling personality, he has a virtual black book most men would kill for and he uses it often, never settling for one woman for very long.

While his D/s past remains buried, exactly where he wants it, an undercurrent of boredom and dissatisfaction runs through his life now. A disastrous experience years earlier made him swear off the whole scene, but the more Jack suppresses his natural Dom, the more his frustration grows.

Sara Thornton, a rookie in the real estate game, has fast-tracked herself to the top of the Ann Arbor market. Her life reflects a disciplined and focused routine, exactly the way she wants it. However, as her career takes off, the fulfillment she seeks remains inexplicably out of reach. The one thing she knows for sure, she will not join the Jack Gordon groupies in her company, no matter how tempting that might seem.

A chance encounter, then a difficult transaction, throw Jack and Sara together and the sparks fly high and hot and often. Forced to confront the compulsions that gain momentum with each sizzling encounter, their relationship seems to spiral out of control until Jack finally admits what he needs, and shows Sara what she's been missing.

short excerpt:
"I can't give you much right now, Sara," he said against her skin. "But I promise you it won't be boring."
Sara ran her hands up his back, fisted her hands in his coarse black hair and kissed him, kissed him until she saw stars. He moaned into her lips, nearly bringing her to her knees. Rallying everything she had to resist, knowing she deserved more than one more casual fuck from this man, she gripped his upper arms, the crisp cotton of his shirt giving way under her hands.
"I'm sure you won't bore me Jack," she held him at arm's length. "That's not the problem." He stepped away from her, hands on his hips. Sara fought the strange urge to drop to her knees.
"Okay," he ran a hand down his face. "You win."
"I'm not trying to win," she moved another step further away, trying to rally anger or something to resist him. "I'm trying to retain something resembling my sanity."
Jack smiled at her, once again nearly melting what small bit of resolve she had. She stood up straighter. He stepped in closer, cupping her chin in his hand.
"I'm just as afraid of losing mine," he declared, making her skin flush. His lips hovered just out of her reach. "But I'm willing to risk it."
Fully realizing she could be getting the "worst thing" just as easily as the "best thing," Sara succumbed. Jack's lips, tongue, hands, body, she wanted them all, right there, and desire blinded every logical synapse she possessed.
"That's my Sara," she startled at his possessive words. "I know what you need. Let me show you." She nodded as his lips and teeth found her neck, sucked, bit down and made her yelp and moisture flood her panties. The deep growl of his voice, the way he gripped her, it made her weak and shaky, all reactions new to her in the arms of any man.

SWEAT EQUITY:

blurb
Jack Gordon thought he’d finally made it. He had a wildly successful career, money in the bank and even returned to his life as Dom, putting an end to a string of unfulfilling sexual encounters. Now that he's made the ultimate commitment to Sara Thornton, he believes all is right in their world. However, a series of misunderstandings and a dose of self-fulfilling prophesy bring his perfectly crafted house of cards tumbling down around him, forcing him to confront lingering misgivings about marriage and trust. Could those be the only two things he can never achieve?

Sara struggles with her intense need for Jack and her desire for less volatility in her busy life, two goals which appear to be mutually exclusive. Although willing to put in the time and emotional effort to make their relationship work, she finds it futile and frustrating, littered with clashes thanks to near-identical personalities and temperaments. Given Sara’s history, easing back into the comfortable status quo becomes easier than fighting a war with the one person who should be her safe haven. But will the easier choice satisfy her the way only Jack can? Is her "war" one that comes from without or within?

Buffeted by circumstance, temptation and distraction, Jack and Sara’s tenuous relationship crumbles, sparking a continuous quest for the ever elusive: trust, love and acceptance. By the time they rebuild a foundation for renewal, fate has other plans. This leaves them both reeling, once again questioning their destiny.

short excerpt:
She moved away, unwilling to discuss how much her late night conversations with Jack kept her going. Last night he'd told her about the disastrous venture to the BDSM club. She couldn't help but glare at the silly woman at his side.
"Then why in the hell won't you cut her lose Jack? If you're that miserable? I mean unless there are redeeming qualities…." She'd let her voice fade. Let him read between her lines.
He'd laughed; a slightly ugly sound that made her wince. "Yeah, I'm calling it off. But I already promised her we'd go to this game."
"You're stalling. For a guy who gets off on negotiation, who has dumped enough women to fill Michigan Stadium, you are sure being a pussy about Heather."
"Lovely. Thanks for the moral support."
"Sorry. Blunt. That's me."
"Yeah. I know. Anyway, I had to put her in a taxi and send her home from the club. It was a mess. Ever since she's been trying to force me to "punish" her, to control me with some kind of fucked up reverse domination thing. Christ."
"Topping from the bottom?"
"Well, somebody's been doing more research."
She'd grinned into the phone, pressed a hand to her mound. God she wanted him. So much. Needed him like she needed to drink water to survive.
"Are you touching yourself Sara?" His growly voice got lower, making her nipples harden in instant response.
"I'm not having phone sex with you Jack."
"I just asked a simple question."
She sighed; let one finger linger over her clit, suppressing a groan at the sensation.
"Are you? Tell me baby. I'll gladly walk you through it."
The compulsion to do that, to let him bring her to orgasm with his voice nearly made her cry. She yanked her hand away, sat up, and wiped her eyes. "No. I'm not. I'm gonna go now. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. At the tailgate."
"Yeah. Guess so. I sure would love to hear that sound you make again. The little one, right before you…"
"Stop it. G'night."

CLOSING COSTS:

blurb:
Love conquers all? Not likely, according to Sara Thornton. She's spent eight years coming to terms with the new parameters of her life while resigning herself to the idea that “happily ever afters” are best left to fairytales. Sales manager for her successful real estate office and juggling an added element of responsibility she never thought she'd face, Sara continues to struggle with the men in her life. Love, for her, has only meant hurt, broken trust and anger; all of which she’s completely banished from her life, so she claims.

Jack Gordon has come a long way since his early days of obsession with Sara. As the general manager of Stewart Realty, his own level of responsibility for the well-being of others has ramped up. He’s even honed his caretaking skills, now that he has someone who loves him unconditionally.

Continuing to invest effort and rebuild their relationship, he and Sara grow close as friends. Despite this, his ultimate question remains unanswered; the one he keeps asking, no matter how many times she says no. Sara isn't prepared for the keen focus of his need--to have her back, once and for all. Her stubborn resistance nearly rips both lives apart

The epic third book to The Realtors series, Closing Costs brings Jack and Sara truly full circle. Proving that the heat of lust and obsession; the need for control and to be mastered in many areas of life can lead to love — surprising you when you least expect it – if you will only allow it.

short excerpt (WARNING EXPLICIT!)
He sank onto the couch, draping an arm around her. She snuggled in close, forcing out all the guilt over how her need to do this thing as a mom "on her own" had affected so many lives. "Okay, I'm here. Well?" She closed her eyes when she felt his lips touch her hair.
She put a hand on his thigh, relishing the familiar musculature beneath his jeans. He shifted a little. "Listen, Sara, I don't know where your head is right now but…whoa…" Sara heaved herself up onto his lap, straddling him, her face inches from his. She bit back tears. Jack clutched her hips but didn't speak. "Okay if you insist." He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her in for kiss that started slow, easy, intimate, before turning into something much more as she pressed down against his hardening zipper. The room dimmed around her. A bright nugget of need blossomed in her core, making her gasp as Jack started getting serious with his kiss.
She threaded her hands in his hair, sucked in huge breaths of him, ran her lips across the rough rasp of his jaw, down his neck. "God, Jack, I miss you."
"Don't ruin this by talking," he growled in her ear, yanking up her t-shirt and flipping open her bra in one motion. He cupped a breast, holding it reverently almost, before lowering his lips to her nipple. The second he touched her, started lapping around the stiffened peak, she groaned and felt moisture flood her panties.
"Oh my God, I think I just came." He laughed into her flesh and gripped her ass with his other hand. The sensation of his erection against her brought fresh moans to her lips. "Do it again," she whispered.
"Sure you want to go here, Sara?" His eyes were like a midnight sky just as she remembered. "Because I'm not inclined to fuck and run." He groaned as she reached down to unzip him, fisting his hard flesh. "Although a fuck would be nice…Jesus!" He flipped them around so fast Sara squealed, putting a hand over her mouth as he dove back down to her nipples, caressing, sucking, licking, making her back arch, her entire body throb with need. She sensed his cock, near her, the pulse of their years' long connection swirling around them, making her head spin as he kissed her.
"I need this. So much," she muttered into his lips. He started to pull away but she gripped his face. "I need you, Jack. Please. I..."
"Say it," he growled, jaw clenching. She shifted her hips, tilted them so she could feel his flesh against hers. Tears stung the back of her eyes as he lifted up and away from her, his hand on the amazing shaft that she wanted inside her. She reached up and yanked him back down, her lips near his ear.
"I'm sorry. I miss you. I need you." He groaned and pressed into her, penetrating her in one long, smooth stroke. "God!" she cried out, wrapped her legs around him, met his every thrust, needing to feel every inch of his body against her, inside her.
"Sara," he whispered; his exhalations against her lips. "Look at me." She stared at him, the hard reality of their inevitable physical connection ramping up, making them both breathless. "I love you." He closed his eyes, thrust hard, shuddered, and came just as the world exploded behind her eyes. Her body clenched and pulsed with orgasmic energy. They continued moving together a few more minutes. When guilt rushed in to fill the void in her chest she shoved it back, sighed and kissed him, slow and easy. He slipped from her body, and sat, gasping. "Damn. I've lost my touch. What was that, five seconds?"

BOOKS 4 AND 5 ARE ALSO AVAILABLE (ya gotta read these in order though kids... trust me)

Essence of Time:

For years, Rob Frietag has resisted anything resembling a true emotional connection, preferring instead to explore life, and his own desires, without committing to anyone for very long. The reason remains known only to a few, among them Jack Gordon, his college cohort in female conquests, and life-long friend. At thirty-seven, while he is close to achieving his career goal, head chef at a five-star restaurant in Chicago, he is still very much alone.

After an intensely emotional relationship with Suzanne Baxter in Ann Arbor, Blake's heart is left shattered. Completely broken by what he believes was his one true love, he arrives at a Chicago food and beer festival, prepared to drink his sorrow away. When the two men meet, their lives change forever. But time is of the essence. When Rob acknowledges his true feelings, he will stop at nothing to keep them together, including finding a surrogate mother for the child Blake so desperately wants.

Lila Warren is recovering from a nasty divorce, needs cash and believes carrying their baby will fulfill her in ways marriage never did. None of them could suspect that the connection they share would provide the final emotional key to their life-long puzzle. When Rob’s secret is revealed, time becomes the one luxury they don't have, setting in motion a chain of events that destroys the fragile illusion of happiness for them, and everyone who loves them.

and Conditional Offer (my offering to all the TEAM CRAIG members out there):

Craig Robinson and Suzanne Baxter had no reason to meet, no real excuse to be friends. But when heart calls to heart...blood to blood...should two people who seem destined to be together heed the spin of Fate's wheel?

Craig spent years floating through life on cruise control, using directionless jobs, his rock band, swimming, and a string of older women in his bed to smother feelings of loneliness and loss. He finally thought he had found his true love in one Sara Thornton -- A sexy, beautiful, fellow real estate agent and mentor. But his self-doubt and innate sense of failure is only reinforced when he realizes her heart belongs to another man.

When Sara introduces him to Suzanne, a woman fighting her own demons from an abusive marriage and subsequent feelings of inadequacy and deep unhappiness, that simple, chance moment snaps Craig's hazy existence into crystal-clear focus. A bond of instant physical attraction, nurtured by time and shared experience, and plenty of erotic energy, is born.

As Suzanne's past continues to haunt her, making her push Craig away just as he thinks he’s getting closer, each of them must come to terms with their true selves and face their ultimate realities.

FINALLY A FUN GIFT FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO MADE IT THIS FAR DOWN THE POST:
an excerpt from the upcoming Escalation Clause: Stewart Realty Book 6

blurb:
Young love burns hot and bright. Soul mates are found, then lost in the blink of an eye. When young widow Maureen Gordon Taylor meets her daughter's sexy soccer coach, her body and heart slowly thaw. But will holding tight to the past cost her a future?

A devastating blow shatters a family's fragile happiness. Rob Freitag and Lila Warren now confront life without the emotional glue that once bound them, but a shared goal brings them back together. Is it enough to make them whole again and become the family they were meant to be?

Mutual trust is hard won for the Gordons. Then tragedy strikes, sending Jack and Sara’s lives into a tailspin. To keep her family from falling apart, she must force Jack to admit his deepest fears. After everything they’ve been through, can they revive the spark and move to the next stage of marital fulfillment?

The sweeping saga of the Stewart Realty series continues as long-time friends learn to rely on each other, and to grab hold of happiness before it's too late.

You could win a SIGNED ARC of this book: click on the www.lizcrowe.com site and the "2012 contest" tab! My publisher will also be offering an ARC copy (unsigned, alas) beginning Wednesday, Oct. 17....stay tuned here for more details on that.
And now, the excerpt:
 <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">She stood, wobbly, and on the verge of jumping him in front of the kids and her friend. She looked over her shoulder. Lila had guided everybody into the kitchen<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:jt" datetime="2012-09-30T12:39">,</ins></span> and it sounded like they were making pancakes. She looked down at her husband. “What is this about Jack? Talk? Or Fucking? Because you know what I—”</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">He grabbed her hand and put it on his zipper.<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:jt" datetime="2012-09-30T12:39"> </ins></span>She bit her lip at the familiar hard girth of his sex. “Both.” He said, cupping her neck and tugging her close. The kiss was just a ghost of one, nothing like he normally gave. However, having gone without any of it for so long, it felt like the most intimate connection they’d ever made. He ran his thumb over her lips.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I have a meeting.” She exhaled. It was the truth.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Cancel it,” his voice was low.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">She stood, shook her hair back. “As long as you are prepared to really talk to me.” She crossed her arms, mainly so he would not see how shaky she was.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I am.” He got to his feet, stood within centimeters of her, but didn’t touch her. The chemistry of their long-running relationship filled the air, making her breathless. She reached out first, put a hand to his rough cheek. His eyes stayed flat, but then he smiled. “I promise, I will.” He kissed her for real then, holding her close, cupping her breast under the silk blouse, shoving<span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:jt" datetime="2012-09-30T12:39"> </ins></span>a thigh between her legs. It was amazing, erotic, and then, it was over. He let her go, and walked to the bedroom. She clutched the back of the couch to keep from falling straight to the hardwood floor. When she heard the shower start, she grabbed her purse and phone.</span></span></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> cheers and have a GREAT WEEKEND! </span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Go Blue</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Liz </span><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div>

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Published on October 12, 2012 11:16

September 23, 2012

....And the Winner Is.....

The winner of the Paradise Hops ARC contest is: Alicia!
Congrats! you have an email in your inbox with instructions....

And now....you guys really gotta take a deep breath and get READY for this one!
For the next month (contest ends 10/20/12) We are running a killer "rafflecopter" thingie and up for grabs are:
KINDLE FIRE!
$100 Amazon Gift Card!
An entire STEWART REALTY SIGNED SET of books!
A signed ARC of Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty Book 6)!

It's easy and fun to enter.....join my Romance for Real Life group on Facebook..."like" Jack and Craig on Facebook (they are both very entertaining)....leave a review of one of the Stewart Realty books on Amazon or Goodreads.....all real easy stuff....

Here is the link: JOIN US TODAY!!
www.lizcrowe.com
CLICK ON THE 2012 CONTEST TAB!

cheers! Now back to the editing cave....
OH for fun and because I loves my blog peeps, a quick look at a fun Holiday release from Tri Destiny Publishing:
Honey Red
Blurb:  <br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Nicholas Trayner has returned to Michigan, physically and spiritually ruined by war, determined to never love again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Hannah Williams, the new marketing director at the Ypsi Brewing Company has vowed to live her life and make her own way independent of any relationships.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Ian Donovan has come to uneasy terms with his life as single father and head brewer for the highly successful YBC. But when it becomes apparent that both Nick and Hannah hold the key to his actual happiness, Ian’s world is rocked in ways he never knew possible.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Three people resolved not to commit, but thrown together by circumstance and undeniable physical attraction--their nights heat up and emotions run high in spite of their expressed desire to "keep it simple." But love is never simple. And the bonds they form will be sorely tested before they can determine if life as three is what they truly desire.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">EXCLUSIVE (unedited) EXCERPT:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><style> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“So,” he said, his voice cracking a little with tension. She looked up. A tendril of that tempting red hair dropped out of the holder and slipped across her face. He saw himself reach out, tuck it away. She narrowed her eyes, and leaned back just enough to let him know his touch was not welcomed. “Right, sorry. So, let’s move on to these,” he pulled the three Belgian style beers he’d chosen closer, trying to cover his embarrassment. “We don’t do Belgians at Ypsi do I plan to,” he paused, pondering his one-time dream of crafting nothing but sour, crazy, off-the-wall ales. He certainly had changed his tune once his business savvy brother had gotten involved.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">She put a hand on his, yanking him back to the present. He stared at her hand, then up at her. Her huge eyes were full of concern. “You okay? How’s Nick?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh, uh, he’s okay. I think.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hannah nodded, munched a pretzel, never taking her eyes from his. He shifted, as his body started to react almost involuntarily to her suddenly uncomfortable proximity. “I have to wonder how it will work.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Uh, how what will work,” he poured them each a healthy sample of Le Fin Du Monde, one of the finest examples of a Belgian tripel known to man. The cloudy yellow liquid was rich, layered and amazing. He drank it way too fast considering it was nine percent alcohol. But nervousness had the best of him. And that was annoying in the extreme. He shoved her feet off his lap. “You mean Gavin and Alyssa? Well, if they don’t kill each other, I think they’ll make a fine couple.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“But how can they be together? She owns the company that distributes our brews in Michigan. Isn’t that some kind of a…I don’t know…insider trading kind of a thing? Whoops…” She nearly knocked over her glass of the tripel and blushed. Ian stared at her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>She’s drunk. And as nervous as I am.</i> He smiled, and leaned forward on his elbow, missing the table by a good two inches and smacking his chin on the hard wood surface. “Fuck!” he yelped, cupping his jaw while Hannah laughed so hard tears ran down her face. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Hannah’s heart was pounding, her ears buzzed and her head spun. And while she knew damn good and well she could thank the beers she’d been drinking for the last nearly two hours, she also had to admit that being here, with Ian, so close and having such a great time was turning her on, period. Her body had gone so long without a man’s touch she had gone beyond missing it. Kind of like when you reach that point in a diet where you don’t even really miss food anymore. Not a fun place to be, or healthy, but there it was.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ian stood and stomped over to the freezer, grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables and put them under his chin. She pointed, snorted, and tried to stop laughing but it was too much. He was so incredible—talented, funny, great with his son, and sexier than any one man had a right to be. She had no business here. She stood, as a burst of anxiety nearly split her in half. Her body tingled in places she had forgotten existed but for their daily functionalities. Her head was starting to hurt. She was terrified and horny in equal measure. “I should go,” she said, looking around for her shoes. Her hair kept falling out of its tie back so she gave up and yanked the flimsy band out and let it tumble around her shoulders. When she stood up and looked at Ian, his mouth was literally hanging open. She grinned, slid her feet into her shoes and started for the kitchen door. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Wait,” he croaked. “Hannah. Don’t go.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">She turned, slowly, knowing full well the affect she was having. But unsure what to do about it. “I am not going to sleep with you Ian Donovan.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">In a flash he was in her personal space, the frozen food forgotten. His full lips were inches from hers. She gulped. He slid his hand up her arm, fisted his fingers in her hair. He smelled boozy and she knew she did too. “I’m not sleepy,” he whispered. The room did a slightly nauseating one-eighty when his lips met hers. She stood, frozen, let him part her lips with his tongue but couldn’t seem to move her arms. Her body would not cooperate and do the thing she knew she wanted to do—grab him, wrap herself around him. He broke away, his breath ragged and cradled her face in his large hands. “I don’t know what it is about you. I am prepared to screw up a perfectly good, friendly working relationship right now, just to feel your skin against mine. In fact, if that doesn’t happen in the next few minutes I may spontaneously combust.” But he stepped away, hands on his hips, looking down at the floor. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: large;">She backed up, stumbling a little when her backside met the counter top. She could sense her nipples pressing the back of her bra. Her thighs trembled and the pulse between her legs matched her heartbeat. She bit her lip. “But…” she said, knowing that with this man, complications would be the name of the game. “Nick.” She said softly, understanding and figuring this for just one more close shot at something special she would miss.</span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div>

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Published on September 23, 2012 07:27

August 31, 2012

Win a Copy of an ADVANCED READING COPY!

My ARC list is locked in stone and the waiting list is pretty deep.

My publisher is offering a chance at an ARC of what many of my Betas readers call my best book ever:
Paradise Hops, a stand alone, brewery based novel.

Blurb:

A brutal attack left Lori Brockton convinced she was damaged goods. By the time she emerges from hiding two years later, ready to run her family's famous brewery, she's determined to be independent--never rely on anyone ever again. Nearly a year of working in every corner of Brockton Brewing Company, from warehouse to pub, front office to kitchen, teaches her all she needs to know about the business. Then, she comes face-to-face with masculine perfection in a suit and her world is rocked in more ways than one. Garret Hunter is the new Brockton business manager who takes one look at the beautiful, sad young woman and his entire existence coalesces around winning her heart. But standing between Garrett and what he believes is his true love, is a six-feet six-inch blond-haired bad boy brewer.Eli Buchannan is a craft beer rock star, recently hired by Brockton to drag the company into the 21st century. He brings innovation and attitude plus a prima donna ladies man reputation.  But he's sworn off anything resembling commitment, personal or professional, after getting burned at his last job on both fronts. Garret Hunter is “The Perfect Man” -- handsome, successful, stable, eager to settle down. Eli Buchannan... is not. Compelling, smoking hot, creative and elusive, he represents everything Lori Brockton should avoid. But just as she makes a difficult choice, a drastic life-changing shift occurs, and nothing is ever the same again.
PG 13 Excerpt:Lori wrestled open the back brewery door, ears already ringing from the curses that echoed through the large, brightly lit room. The brewery boys, and three second brewers stood in a line, like they were in a marine barracks all looking as nervous as mice observed by a very hungry cat.“And who the fuck,” boomed a voice, “might you be? No one told me there was a girl brewer in this place.”As a reflex, Lori looked around, seeking out the girl who’d pissed off the faceless angry voice that must belong to Eli Buchanan their new master brewer. She’d been instrumental in convincing her father to hire the guy. He was a brewing celebrity, a genius, temperamental and prone to quit perfectly good breweries if the mood suited him. He was exactly what Brockton needed. They had to to get past their staid, complacent attitude in a rapidly changing craft beer environment.“Yeah, I’m talking to you. The one who showed up fifteen minutes late for my morning staff meeting.” She flushed, frowning at the line of men, many of whom had worked for her father for years as they shuffled their feet and wouldn’t meet her eyes.  “Who the hell are you, and why are you on my brewery floor?”She cleared her throat, squared her shoulders and channeled the anger building in her chest. “I’m Lori. Lori Brockton. This is the first day of my brewery rotation.” She hated how thin her voice sounded.“Your brewery rotation eh?” She stepped back at the vision that emerged from between towering stainless steel fermentation vessels.  “What is this? Brewing Day Camp? I’m supposed to babysit the Brockton kids?” He glared at her, making her blink in the glare of his bright, steely blue gaze. Eli Buchanan was larger than life. At least six foot five, with long blonde hair held back by a small piece of leather. Clad in light blue jeans and a Brockton Brewing grey t-shirt, the span of his shoulders and definition of his torso forced an exhale from Lori’s lips. He kept quiet as her eyes took him in, from rubber boot clad feet to the light red hair covering his jaw. “Well? See anything you like?”“Uh, no, I mean, it’s not camp. I mean, you are…I’m…” she stuttered, then stopped. The man stood stock still, glaring as if challenging her. She stood up straighter. “I’m here for the next six months to learn this part of the business. You know, so I can be your boss someday.” The man frowned at her. She frowned back.Then he tilted his head back and laughed, stepped into her personal space and smacked her ass so hard she yelped. “I look forward to that day girl Brockton. Yes, I do.” A couple of the men started forward as if to protect her but she waved them back. This asshole had another thing coming if he thought she’d be intimidated by him. As much as she might have been at one point, something about him was as non-threatening as Garrett, but in a different way—a much more spine-tingling way.The following ten hours of back breaking work nearly made her throw in the towel. But after an hour scraping out the last of a twenty barrel’s worth of wet, heavy spent mash—the leftover grains from a batch of beer made on their smaller system, she felt sore as hell, but invigorated. The smells, sounds and sights of this place, the heartbeat of the entire operation, the reason all three hundred of her father’s employees came to work every day, this she loved.“Brockton!” An angry voice behind her made her jump and turn. Wet, sticky malt grains dripped from her face where she’d accidently splashed some onto herself as she cleaned out the large vessel. She swiped at them, smearing even more of the mess across her cheeks. Without warning, Eli wiped her face with a clean white towel, his touch surprisingly tender, lingering longer than necessary. But his frown stayed stuck in place.  She stepped away from him even though her body reacted, compelling her to move closer.“Some guy in a tie is looking for you,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder but didn’t move. Lori had no experience with hypnosis, but she’d swear at that moment he’d done it to her. They locked eyes, then the sound of harder heeled shoes on the concrete floor forced her look past him. Garrett’s bright smile was familiar, yet strange in the highly charged environment.“I’m actually here to see you, Eli.” Garrett stuck out a hand and the other man looked at it, glancing over to Lori then back over before gripping it without a smile. “Glad to have you on board.”Eli took his hand back, and swiped at it with the towel he’d used on her face. If he noticed the rude gesture, Garrett didn’t indicate it in the slightest. Impressed, Lori moved a step closer to him and glared at the tall, blonde man.Eli shot her an unfathomable look, but spoke to Garrett. “Sorry, but no suits in the brewery. Wouldn’t want to get you messy.” He walked away, waving over his shoulder. “Glad to be on board, boss, thanks.” The sarcasm dripped from his words like venom. Garrett turned to her, his handsome face calm, as if the odd exchange with the rude employee had never happened.
EXXXerpt:She ignored him for another hour, busying herself with cleaning, then running the filter for a new batch of dark lager. When a hand touched her arm she jumped, and the safety glasses slid down her nose. “What?” Eli gestured for her to follow him out of the cooler. She did so, all the way into the office at the back, her scalp tingling at the memory of their one encounter there. His broad shoulders were tense and his face radiated anger when he turned to her.“What is it?” She slid her arms out of the coverall she’d been wearing now that she was back in a room with normal temperatures. The usual buzz and hum of her libido did its song and dance on her nerve endings. She kept plenty of space between them, determined not to let him touch her again. Things with Garrett had been more than great. She had no reason whatsoever to want anything else.When he gripped her upper arm she gasped and stared at his hand, then up at him. “Why are you selling?” He bit each word off at the end, precise and clear, but she still  couldn’t understand what he meant. His proximity, his touch, and the words he said simply wouldn’t square in her brain. She pulled out of his grasp.“Selling what? What are you talking about?” She stepped away, ears still buzzing with barely concealed desire. She crossed arms over her chest, trying to control her breathing, her hardening nipples irritating her behind the thin cotton of her bra and t-shirt. He frowned and dropped into his chair. The dog’s head emerged, and he scratched it distractedly. She perched on the desk across from him. Garrett. Garrett. Remember what you have Lori. Don’t be a dumb ass, impulsive… Oh my god.In an eye blink he’d risen, pulled her to her feet, and was kissing her, sweeping into her mouth with his tongue, the hard rasp of his beard against her face bringing tears to her eyes. He maneuvered them back into a corner, flipped off the lights and kept kissing her, pressing his tall, hard body into hers. They stayed silent, lips and hands all over each other without words or explanation. He popped the button on her jeans, shoved a hand into her panties and fingered her swollen clit with a groan against the skin of her neck. She propped a foot on a chair, tilted her hips, gave him access as she tugged his long hair loose, let it tumble around his face and shoulders.“Eli,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Please. I need you.”“Not half as much as I need you,” he pressed into her body, reached high inside, keeping his thumb against her clit. “Lift up your shirt,” his low, growly voice made her shiver, but she did it. God help her she lifted it up, reached back and released the clasp of her bra and cradled his head as he licked, and sucked and finger fucked her until she groaned and came all over his hand. Her whole body trembled, wouldn’t stop shaking as he put his fingers in his mouth, then into hers letting her taste herself.His next kiss was gentle. He held her close until she calmed. “I’m sorry,” he said, and stepped back, running a hand down his face. The regret she saw in his eyes brought a tinge of anger to her lusty energy. If he asked, she’d do anything he wanted. Right then. In the office.She let the wall hold her up and looked at him, licked her lips at the sight of the huge mound under his zipper. “I’m not.”“Well, you should be.” He turned from her.Fury flared in her chest. How dare he judge her. “Fine. You’re the one who…” He whirled around to face her, his eyes alight with something she’d never seen in them before. Hope.“I’m the one who gave you what you wanted.” He stepped into her space again lips near her ear. “That’s all. Nothing more or less.”“Okay,” she put a hand to his face, relishing the rough beard under her palm even as she slid her other hand down, running it along his denim-covered cock. He moaned and closed his eyes. “But something tells me there is more.” She ran her tongue over his full lips. But he pulled away, out of her arms. Anger rushed back in to fill the void he’d left. “Fine. You want to play games with me?” He started to speak but she kept talking. “Mission accomplished. Nothing more is necessary. You proved yourself. Now,” she sat, determined to make this be the last time she asked. “What are you talking about selling? Who is selling? What?”Eli pinched the bridge of his nose and sat back down in his chair then flipped open his laptop, pulling up his email. He hit a few keys, then turned the machine to face her. “Seems as though your boyfriend is talking to some big boys. He leave that out of your pillow talk this morning?” She glared at him then tried to focus on the small words on the screen.
PARADISE HOPS RELEASES OCTOBER 15. ENTER YOUR COMMENT TO WIN A COPY OF A COPY IN ADVANCE, IN EXCHANGE FOR A REVIEW ON YOUR BLOG IF YOU HAVE ONE OR ON GOODREADS/AMAZON/FACEBOOK.LEAVE AN EMAIL ADDRESS.....

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Published on August 31, 2012 21:00

August 30, 2012

Romance For Real Life: A Primer

Welcome to the 'ROMANCING THE HOP' erm...hop.

There are some killer prizes at stake:

1st Grand Prize: A Kindle Fire or Nook Tablet2nd Grand Prize: A $130 Amazon or B&N Gift Card 3rd Grand Prize: A Large Swag Pack
(if you look real close you'll see my distinctive Beer Wench/author keychain bottle opener and I'm pretty sure I sent some book marks but they're in there somewhere. Nice pack 'o stuff, regardless)

Now: Let's get on with the post shall we?

Ask me what I write and I don't shy away from the “r” word, “romance.” Get me going and I might even say “erotic romance.” But, I like to think I write romance... for real life.

What is “Romance for Real Life?” That’s the question everyone is asking.

It’s not your traditional romance book. My characters are real. They have flaws, quirks, and a multi-layered histories that motivate them. They could be your best friend. Or the girl in your office that drives you crazy. Maybe my readers even sees a little of themselves in my characters. Whoever you see, you will identify with the characters and their lives.

No, these are not traditional romance novels. You won’t find any fairytale endings or flowery prose in my books.

I can hear you now: ‘What’s wrong with the fairytale?’

My answer? Nothing. I like all kinds of books from Dickens to King; from the Bard to Shayla Black. I read it all. But I write what I know and I don’t know anyone who has lived an actual fairytale. The prince sweeps her off her feet and they get married and... then what? What is their life then? Unless you’re royalty, it’s probably not a house full of staff waiting to do your bidding. It’s more likely that my readers are professionals or professionals who may or may not be parents. They have bills to pay and families and obligations. They have frustrations and things that they’re stubborn about. They also have their strengths and hobbies and things at which they excel. Everyone does. Everyone has all of those things meshed into one package that makes them unique. That’s what I write. Each of my characters is that unique package.

While not an "Anti-HEA" it's more like a "Ok WHA?" Or "What Happens After?"

And forget the flowery prose. Nope. Not going to find that either. Like I said, I write for today’s adult. I take some of my phrases from people I know. I use explicit words. My romance is sexy. I don’t shy away from that.

I’m not intending to re-write the romance genre. There’s always going to be a place for romance and fairytales and happily ever after's. But at the end of the day, if a reader puts down my book and says, ‘Wow, I will never forget those characters. That could’ve been me,’ I’ve done my job. I haven’t written the fantastical romance, I’ve written a book in my genre. Romance for real life.

The Stewart Realty Series got me started down this path and each of the books are racking up kudos, awards, high praise and (more importantly) sales.

Between the JERR Gold stars (for 2 ) And The Romance Review Top Picks (for 3, the 4.5 average rating out of 38 reviews for the first book alone, and the daily messages I get from more and more readers on facebook and twitter and plain old email who LOVE the series, as "frustrating" as they are and are clamoring for "more. Now." I think there is something to this. Don't get me wrong. There are plenty of folks who don't like them and have made that crystal clear to me. But I know why--it's not formula and you will get aggravated at my characters but you may find yourself cheering them on....by the end.

The Stewart Realty Series:
Floor Time
Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
(coming Nov 4 with live book signing in Ann Arbor): Escalation Clause
and with 3 more planned for 2013....
BUY THE SERIES HERE: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=liz+crowe+stewart+realty

To reward you for actually making it this far and paying attention, I will award a $20 Amazon gift card to ONE correct answer to the following question (on this blog only):
What is the "new genre" that I have invented with the Stewart Realty Series?

coming....the highly anticipated EPIC follow up (November 4):

thanks for listening: enjoy the rest of the hop: good luck with the prizes and stuff....
here visit the other sites you can visit (better drink some coffee: there are a sh*t ton of them!)
OH and for fun be sure and check my killer trailer, both were mentioned on USA Today books as "noteworthy!"

And last but not least, the link for all the other hop participants is here:
http://carrieannbloghops.blogspot.com/

NOTE: MY COMMENTS ARE "MODERATED" SO IF YOURS DOES NOT SHOW UP IMMEDIATELY, JUST GIVE IT TIME. IT WILL. BE PATIENT. HAVE A BEER.

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Published on August 30, 2012 21:05

August 29, 2012

All For a Fist Full of Ashes: Book Release Announcement

Just ReleasedBook 2 in theTour Director Extraordinaire Series
ALL FOR A FIST FULL OF ASHES
By R. Ann SiracusaA young tour director and a handsome spy take a fast-paced romantic romp through Italy in pursuit of a lost grave, an assassin, and a once-in-a-lifetime love.

Breathless Press Buy Link
E-book format only – 97K
ISBN 978-1-77101-827-2BLURBI'm Harriet Ruby: Tour Director Extraordinaire. At least, I thought I was worthy of that title, until... My first mistake : Agreeing to conduct a private tour of Italy. Fourteen Italian-Americans from New Jersey? All family, for three weeks, with four teenagers? What was I thinking? Fate responds to my engraved invitation by placing one of the family members under surveillance as a suspect in an assassination plot. And who is assigned to the case? None other than my favorite drop-dead-gorgeous spy, Will Talbot. My second mistake : Allowing Will to coax an invitation from the family matriarch to join the tour. And that was just the beginning . The matriarch, searching for the unknown location of her mother's grave so she can bury her brother's cremated ashes (which have been smuggled into Italy wrapped in Cuban cigars), and her quirky family members sweep through Italy leaving chaos, hilarity, and danger in their wake.
EXCERPTStill standing inside the terminal with one hand on the door, I prepared to push it open, when an intense shiver skittered up and down my spine. I tingled all over and heat zinged to every to every erogenous zone, a sure sign of Will Talbot's presence in the airline terminal.I hadn't seen him, but I didn't have to. When we're in the same space, he and I exchange a flow of energy, and my body's reactions said it all. We had a way of speaking to each other without talking.Will was my...well, he's...hmm. Now, here's the thing. Will Talbot and I had this incredible, overwhelming physical attraction and a no-strings agreement to get to know each other better and see if the rest of our relationship could catch up with our lust.Since he lived in Spain and I resided in Rome, we only got together every two or three weeks. We hadn't progressed much beyond the lust stage of "getting to know you," but there seemed to be a lot of other stuff going on between us, which neither of us had figured out yet.Excited, I opened the door and stuck my head out. "I'll be there in a few minutes, Mario," I yelled, my voice tinged with anticipation, trying to keep an eye on the terminal at the same time. "Please, get everyone on board. Thanks."He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. Mario knew about Will and me and, like I said, nothing surprised him.Stepping back inside and away from the entrance, I closed my eyes and waited. I sensed Will's approach and the closer he got, the more my girly parts tingled with anticipation.Even though I expected it, I gasped when he placed his warm hands on my shoulders and turned me around to face him.
□Don't miss the free read short story – FIRST DATE
First Date - Download Link

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Published on August 29, 2012 15:24

August 25, 2012

It's Here. And Yes I am Awake. Don't Ask.

greetings Liz fans. It is nearly 4 in the morning on Saturday August 25 and for various, annoying reasons I won't bore you with I am awake and have been for a while.
So LET'S PARTY!!!
It's RELEASE DAY for Conditional Offer, the eagerly anticipated 5th book in the best selling Stewart Realty series from Tri Destiny Publishing!
*tosses confetti into the dark*

I'm so thrilled about this I am gonna award $25 of OMNI BUCKS at All Romance E books to thank them for offering the book on pre-order for a week to ONE LUCKY COMMENTER!
First, the links:
Buy Conditional Offer:
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes & Noble (sans cover right now but hey, it's still early)

An now....AN EXTRA SPECIAL TREAT....are you ready? Are you sure? Okay, here it is the book cover that made Craig Robinson "famous"....

Oh....baby...the things a man will do for a woman.
So now, the question to hand...what color is Craig's guitar on the cover of the "best selling man love novel" that his brothers and sisters in law find on the internet?I'll pick one correct answer on Wednesday to receive the FREE BOOK MONEY from All Romance Ebooks!
HAPPY RELEASE TO ME...HAPPY RELEASE DAY TO ME....LA LA LA....*TOSSES MORE CONFETTI*The official caveat for anyone considering reading Conditional Offer: Dear Loyal Reader:Conditional Offer is the 5th book in the Stewart Realty story arc and develops the relationship between Craig Robinson and Suzanne Baxter; two not-so-secondary characters from the first four books: Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, and Essence of Time.
Please do not attempt to jump into the Stewart saga with this book. You will be frustrated and might even not like it. And I simply will not allow that.
Also, if you are picking up this oh-so-romantic story of love and redemption between two damaged people, please realize some familiar scenes from the first books are touched on or repeated from different perspectives, with full attention on Craig and Suzanne. Hence, not all conversations will occur verbatim. We all hear things differently, so do my characters.
Well? What are you waiting for? If you haven't started the Stewart Realty saga, go get Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs, and Essence of Time, immediately. If you are all caught up with the Stewart gang through Essence of Time... dive in. Craig tells me the water is perfect.
Love, Liz

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Published on August 25, 2012 01:11

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