Liz Crowe's Blog, page 8

It's Rookie Season with V.K. Robbins

ROOKIE SEASONby V.K. Robbins
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BLURB:
Rookie Season is the first book in the Love in the Ballpark Series, by V.K. Robbins. This adult erotic romance tale sizzles with romantic and sexual chemistry, emotion, and suspense. Once you start reading, you won't be able to put it down.~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Excerpt:
Lots of unexpected things had happened in my life. When Joel walked out on me after ten years of marriage that was unexpected. When my grandfather died a few months later that was unexpected, too. It seemed like all the unexpected things in my life weren't the good kind. Until now.
            The game moved slowly. Painfully so. Then there were extra innings. I wanted to pound my head on the railing. The only real bright spots were when Clay ran out to take left field. I sat on the edge of my seat and watched his long easy stride. Did he really ask me out? I asked myself again and again. Twice during the game he'd run over to the stands on his way to the dugout and give me the ball he had just caught. The first time he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "I can't wait to see you later." The second time, he handed me the ball and playfully whined like a little kid, "When is this game going to be o-o-o-ver?"
            I was thinking the same thing. That's when Sam chimed in again, "There's no way he's twenty-five. No way." I rolled my eyes and sat down. It looked like Sam was falling into one of his melancholy moods, the kind that started hitting him out of the blue after his wife passed away. But even that couldn't ruin my excitement.

            Finally, the game ended. By that time, I didn't care about the final score or who won. I hurriedly said goodbye to Sam and jogged my way up the stairs, dodged a bunch of people, and jumped over a few seats to get to the stadium exit.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Veronica Robbins is a published author of both fiction and nonfiction who has been writing professionally for the last 20 years. In addition to writing fiction and poetry (her first love), she is also an expert grant writer and copy writer.  When she's not writing, she's watching baseball, enjoying her children, reading, and trying to train her dog, Handsome, who so far has been very successful at training her. You can follow Veronica on Facebook or through her blog, A Writer's Journey.Blog/website:  http://veronicarobbins.comFacebook:       http://www.facebook.com/veronica.robbinsTwitter:            http://twitter.com/veronicarobbinsGoodreads:     http://www.goodreads.com/veronicarobbinsInstagram:       http://instagram.com/grantgoddess/Pinterest:         http://www.pinterest.com/veronicarobbins/Google +:         http://google.com/+VeronicaRobbins50Tumblr:            http://veronicarobbins.tumblr.com


Buy links:  Amazon:          http://www.amazon.com/Rookie-Season-Love-Ballpark-Book-ebook/dp/B00R6G2I6U/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1419467289&sr=8-4&keywords=Rookie+seasonB&N:                http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rookie-season-veronica-robbins/1120940243?ean=2940046470000Kobo:               http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/rookie-seasonSmashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/502725
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Holy Wrong Place. Wrong Time. The Serial Gets A Cover!

Poor Lucas. He truly doesn't know which end is up but one thing is certain....getting out of this particular mess may involve getting fired...for good which means blowing his cover...which means giving up on the very sexy life he's made for himself in Istanbul...

And the Liz serialized novel now has a cool cover!


Welcome back to the Liz Crowe Serialized Sexy Thriller Novel Project:
WRONG PLACE. WRONG TIME. 

Allow me to catch you up. Please click each of these LIVE links to get current. Go ahead. I can wait.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 
  
Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7


Ok....are you sufficiently titillated? Good.
Let's move on, shall we?





Lucas’ whole body shook. He ran a hand across his face. This whole thing had escalated a lot faster and higher than he’d anticipated. Flat out fucking the woman on one side of a two-way piece of glass was probably a bit on the “overboard” side of the plan. But what’s done…was done. And he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her bare ass just before she slid her skirt back down and turned to him.He leaned in close, all thoughts of Jay, of Ebru and her horrific yet lovely manipulations of him the night before, even of the email he’d read late last night from Virginia stating his orders to be back on U.S. soil within forty eight hours or risk arrest, driven from his mind. All he knew were her sweet, full lips.“Hey!” He flinched, shocked at the sting on his cheek. Alexa had her arm drawn back, her silvery gray eyes were snapping. Before he could stop her, she slapped him again, hard enough to make him stumble backwards. “What the hell?”“You’re a cheating dickhead,” she spit out, one eyebrow raised. His post-orgasm rattled brain tried to focus on her words. “I can’t believe you did it… with her.”“I…um…huh?” He dropped into the wheeled chair he’d pulled her up out of a few minutes before. “You chose that Turkish slut over me?” Her voice was getting higher, as was his inner freak out. But under her breath she said, “Damn Lucas, go with it, will ya? Lover’s quarrel. I gotta get out of here.” She tilted her head towards the bank of screens still lit up with the horrifying latest chapter of the Tate Lincoln unraveling. “Right. I mean…no, honey.” He got slowly to his feet, knees wobbly from the recent quickie and as his brain rushed to catch up. The last thing he remembered for about a solid minute was the sight of her fist, moving closer as if in slow motion, and then the sickening sound of his cartilage smushing in on itself. His butt hit the edge of the chair at the right angle to send it skittering backwards but not fast enough that the back of his head didn’t connect with it as he dropped like a washed up prize fighter, blood spurting from between the fingers he held over his face.He blinked, processing the dull pain in his nose and the sharper one on the back of his skull. The fluorescents flickered. The massive computers hummed. Lucas rolled to his side, groaning when a wave of nausea rose in his throat. Waiting it out, he lay still, dripping blood onto the gray, static-free carpet. Finally, he sat, taking in the empty room and the very distinct odor of recent sexual activity filling his sorely injured nasal passages. He pulled the chair close and used it to get very carefully to his feet. Groaning when dizziness made him stumble, he gripped the edge of the industrial work table and sat on it, processing the last half hour’s worth of craziness. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he tugged it out, trying not to get it too bloody and stared down at four consecutive texts from Alexa in the last three minutes he must have spent barely conscious thanks to her.“Sorry. Had to make it look real,” was the first one. He touched his most realistically busted nose.“I need your help encrypting something to send to Washington,” was the next. He frowned and kept scrolling, alarm bells ringing so loud in his head he winced.“Tate Lincoln was named by a whistle blower as an NSA cover for international monitoring of ex-pat data. I gotta get in touch with my NGO contact somehow, off the grid.” His frown deepened as he realized she was using a very much not off-the-grid method to spill this to him. “I’m pretty sure you know a good way to do that, eh Jr. G-man?”His scalp prickled and he shot to his feet, glaring down at the message flashing at him, pointing like an accusatory, carefully manicured finger. He glanced up at the glass, then down at his bloody shirt, his brain spinning with the many possible ways this was going to go very, very badly for him. Opening the door quietly, he slipped out into the corridor and took long strides to the elevator, not even sure where he should go but figuring Alexa’s office as good a destination as any. His phone buzzed once more while he leaned against the mirrored wall of the lift as it sped upwards, toward the executive suites. “You were pretty amazing. But I figured you would be.” she said. “Come to my flat. Be ready to tell me your real story.”He typed out a quick response and question, then hit the stop button on the elevator which caused it to lurch, and the doors to snick open revealing a group of people from marketing and supplier relations, all clumped around Ebru like so many minions. She was in the middle of chewing one of them out in rapid-fire Turkish, but that person sucked in a breath at the sight of what must look pretty damn weird—Ms. Trillium’s current personal assistant, Lucas Cameron, (FBI Junior Grade) looking like he’d been in a street brawl. Thank god the smell of blood covers up the smell of sex, he thought as he observed Ebru’s sharp, gorgeous face turn slowly, her full red lips curving downward at the sight of his messed up countenance. The crowd drew back as she stepped forward. “What happened to you?” She touched his nose, seemingly unaffected by the blood smearing it, his lips, chin and shirt. Even in his extremis he could sense her power coiling around the base of his skull. He swayed on his feet as the elevator darkened. “We need to get you to a doctor.” She turned and barked something in Turkish which sent the entourage scrambling. “My poor, sweet, toy,” she cooed, as the doors slid shut and Lucas sensed himself sliding downward, onto the blessedly cool floor. He shook his aching head, trying to figure out if she meant "boy," and guessing she hadn't.His phone buzzed, forcing him back from the edge of unconsciousness—thank god. He’d have to turn in his man card if he let himself faint like some teenaged girl after getting punched by a woman. He gripped the ice-cold stainless steel railing and gritted his teeth against the twin pains in his face and the back of his head. But before he could focus on the phone screen, Ebru had snatched it from him.“No. Your eyes look strange. You shouldn’t try and focus on it right now.”He reached for it, desperate for her not to see the most recent exchange with their mutual boss lady. She leaned away from him, frowning, then touched the power button while he watched, panicked and desperate. “I’m gonna puke,” he declared with as much authority as he could muster. Hurling himself towards her, Lucas grabbed her shoulder and whacked the arm that had the phone in its hand so hard the thing went flying against the far wall, shattering into three pieces on the slate tile floor. She stumbled on her sky-high heels then regained her composure enough to shoot him an arch, somewhat alarming look. The elevator doors opened, revealing the bustling, late afternoon, lobby traffic. Lucas took a step away from her, relieved he’d averted at least that one small potential disaster. Jesus help him if Ebru figured out what he’d just done to…with…Alexa Trillium. He pictured her a moment, waiting in her penthouse flat, toe tapping, waiting for him to appear and spill his guts.Panic tightened its lethal grip around his chest when he realized he’d just squandered about three of his allotted forty-eight hours fucking his boss so her boss would think they were a couple, getting his block practically knocked off by her not thirty seconds post orgasm, then having to break his encrypted company phone all to hell to avoid his whack job of a girlfriend finding out about any of it. Oh, he thought, as his lunch rolled queasily around in his gut and the room started to spin before his eyes. Right, and throwing up all over the feet of people waiting to catch an elevator. Don’t forget about that.
“Lucas!” He heard Ebru’s voice coming from a very far distance as he dropped to his hands and knees, studying the suddenly fascinating pattern of his lunch’s reappearance on the floor. “Yardım edin! Birisi çağrı ambulans!" She was calling. Lucas spent about a half second being proud of himself for hearing it translate in his head before he fell face forward in his own puke and the lights went completely out.



Ok kids, things are getting more complicated by the minute.....come back soon for the next installment!

Finding Us by Debra Presley

Cover Reveal
FINDING US
BY Debra Presley
Release Date: March 2015 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions (http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com @BookEnthuPromo ) Contest below!

#Synopsis: Pop star Abby Murphy has fame and fortune and handsome boyfriend and guitarist, Sean. That changes the night she finds him in the arms of another woman. But Sean won't accept the breakup, and she soon finds out he's working with her mother, who's also her manager, to keep him in her good graces.As Sean ratchets up his threats against her, Abby turns to her bodyguard, Danny Nucci, who will do everything in his power to keep her safe.But when Abby realizes her feelings for Danny run much deeper than she'd like, she pushes him away as much to keep her own independence as to protect him from Sean's machinations.When Abby finally finds the strength to confront all that is wrong with her life, she seeks refuge with Danny, but is it too late? Has she pushed him away one too many times for him to trust her now? Or can he put his own demons aside to help repair them both?
#MeettheAuthor Debra is a native New Yorker who made her escape to the suburbs. She often visits her hometown to enjoy a bagel with butter from her favorite deli, because there’s no better bagel than a New York bagel. When not in search of bagels, Debra spends her time running Book Enthusiast Promotions, an online promotions company that helps indie authors spread the word about their books. She’s also the owner of The Book Enthusiast blog.She started writing lyrics in her wall-to-wall NKOTB bedroom at the tender age of thirteen while dreaming of the day she’d become Mrs. Jordan Knight. That dream never came to fruition, but she has continued to write. Now she’s working on her first novel.

Trailer:



#SocialLinks StreetTeam: http://on.fb.me/1AlC2Sk Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDebraPresley?ref=hl TSU: https://www.tsu.co/TheBookEnthusiast Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7778350.Debra_Presley Twitter: https://twitter.com/DebraPresleyAut Website: http://authordebrapresley.com Blog: http://thebookenthusiast.net/ Tumblr: http://thebookenthusiast1.tumblr.com/ Google +: http://bit.ly/1B0SOGz YouTube: http://bit.ly/1xVkzAF Newsletter:  http://on.fb.me/ZjeuPH Pinterest:  http://bit.ly/149Wav2

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Forsaken Realms by Katalina Leon

Today I welcome the lovely and talented KATALINA LEON to the Books, Beer & More blog. She has a totally cool SciFi thing goin' on.
We talk in writerly circles a lot about "paying it forward," and I'm here to tell you, Ms. Leon has done that for me and then some. Back when I was flailing about in various writer's groups, asking rookie questions and making rookie errors she was the first and most consistent offerer of advice. She even agreed to READ some of my early, crappy efforts!  And I think were I to ask her to pick a favorite Liz book it would be Cheeky Blonde....
She is a calm, cool, talented force to be reckoned with and I'm honored to call her a friend.
Now....check out her new release!




Blurb On The Run, Bounty Hunters.  “Retrieval specialist” is a fancy term for high-level corporate bounty hunting and Agent Gemmina Nayar is the best in her league. She’s a sense-enhanced, level-seven bounty hunter from New Mumbai who receives an exclusive invitation to track a dangerous criminal on private property. She arrives on the tropical planetoid eager to hunt and release her inner tigress, but is disappointed to discover the bounty has already been captured.Syan is a Kironian, an off-limits alien race. He’s gorgeous, rugged and all male. Even sedated and forced to wear an electronic silence collar, he resembles a coppery skinned refugee from Mount Olympus. Gemmina’s unaware Kironian saliva is loaded with pheromones that can turn even the most indifferent woman into a willing mate. A single kiss or bite is sabotage.When the mission turns lethal, she realizes she’s not only been tricked into bringing the wrong man to justice, but the harsh jungle below is a calculated trap.

Excerpt Gemmina faced the open bay doors of the complex. Shouts and several loud howls rang from within.The guard mumbled into the communicator. “What’s going on in there? Ms. Nayar is waiting to collect the retrieval.”A frantic response burst from the device. “He ripped the second silence collar off! We’re replacing it now.”The guard appeared visibly shaken. “The collar’s made of carbon compound. How did he do that? This is not good. Obviously, we can’t count on the collar. Don’t you have him sedated?”“The sedation burns through him. We’ve given him enough to knock a rhino down.”“Then try something stronger.” The guard scowled.A burst of static buzzed from the communicator. “Kironian physiognomy is tricky shit. This guy’s a puzzle. There’s something weird going on with his blood. He keeps adapting to whatever sedation we give him.”The guard glanced up. His eyes widened when he realized she had heard the conversation. “I have Ms. Nayar right beside me. I advise we use force cuffs on the subject, even if they violate intergalactic ethics protocols. They work. Treat the sedation as back up.”“Gotcha.”“Force cuffs?” A wave of disgust curled her lips. “Really? Are we living in the Dark Ages? Not that I feel a great deal of pity for a psychopath who nuked innocent people, but it looks bad on my side. The cuffs are notorious for causing nerve and tissue damage, and they’re considered cruel and unusual. I’ve never had to use them to get a retrieval under control.”“Once you’re out of Naveen’s orbit you’re free to do things your way, but I advise you to not let your guard down with this guy.”A shiver of apprehension gripped her. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Considering she had extensive experience with many humanoid species, she should have felt confident in her abilities. But she didn't know exactly what a Kironian was.“Listen, guys, even with access to a warp tunnel for part of the journey, Penal Colony X57 is eighty flight hours away. I cannot leave a man in force cuffs that long. Add to that the fact he’s Kironian and under political sequester and none of us are legally authorized to punish or even interact with this species. I see a perfect recipe for disaster. I don’t want to harm him and cause an intergalactic incident. What are we talking about here? How humanoid is a Kironian?”“Very human.” The guard was quick to answer. “But better—smarter, and stronger. Most are peace-loving except for this character, who seems to be something of a rogue. I’ll bet the Kironians will cheer when they discover we took him out of the equation.”
Four guards wearing head-to-toe body armor and face shields, and carrying ionized bang sticks with the tips glowing hot, marched toward her, dragging a semi-conscious man between them. The captive was slumped forward with head hanging and a tousle of dark, wavy hair concealing his face. His splayed legs hung limp, and the toes of his heavy boots dug deep furrows into the beach. The current sedation seemed to be effective…”
Bio: Katalina Leon
Katalina Leon is an artist and author who can’t commit to a single genre. Her favorite playgrounds are historical, Sci-fi, contemporary, and most of all paranormal realms. Katalina brings a sense of adventure and a touch of the mystical to erotic romance. She believes there's a daring heroine inside every woman who wants to take a wild ride with a strong worthy hero.
“Forsaken Realms” Is part of Bounty Hunters United and Fated Desires Publishing Special Lines.
Contacts:Fated Desires Publishing: http://fateddesires.com/Amazon:http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00BIXI8BQ
All Romance eBooks:https://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html
Night Owl Reviews Author Page:http://erotica.nightowlreviews.com/V5/Authors/Katalina-Leon
Pinterest:http://pinterest.com/katalinaleon/
Facebook:www.facebook.com/katalina.leon.142?ref=tn_tnmn
 Twitter: Katalina_Leon

Open Your Ears

Greetings Liz fans and others!

Here we are, week 2 of my first self published series release! 

Both Love Garage and Coach Love are getting some nice, thoughtful reviews (and yeah, the trolls are out but I tossed them a few table scraps because I felt sorry for them in this cold weather).  

But I'm shoving this in your face THIS week on behalf of those of us who adore the AUDIO experience.

That would be me.

I'll admit it.

I do a lot of standard poodle walking, house cleaning, driving around the Great Lakes State and because of that, I consume audio books as much if not more than print/ebooks. Here is a list of my recently favorite audio books:
1. The Goldfinch (narrated by David Pittu)
2. Mr. Mercedes (Narrated by Will Patton)
3. The Oryx & Crake Trilogy (multiple narrators including Campbell Scott & Bernadette Dunne)
4. The All-Girl Filling Station (narrated by the author Fannie Flagg)
5. Last Night in Twisted River (narrated by Arthur Morey) 
6. The Robber Bride (narrated by Bernadette Dunne)
7. Sweet Tooth (narrated by Juliet Stevenson)
8. Wolf Hall (narrated by Simon Slater)
9. The Great Gatsby (narrated by Jake Gyllenhaal)
10. Flight Behavior (narrated by the author, Barbara Kingsolver)


To me, the audio experience is something different than the reading one but no less meaningful. And the key to a successful audio book? The narrator, which is why I named the narrators in the list above. 
As a dyed-in-the-wool Indie Author (both with my new self published series AND my series and stand alones that are more "hybrid published" than anything I really stressed about this point. I wanted my books on audio. Bad.

Luckily, the first 3 books of the Stewart Realty series (Floor Time/Sweat Equity/Closing Costs) ARE on audio and are narrated by the very talented Traci Odom so I got to have the almost squee-worthy experience of HEARING my words READ to me. 

When it came to The Love Brothers project, I knew 2 things about the potential audio books:
1. The narrator should be male
2. The narrator should understand what I meant when I said "soft Southern accent"

Quite by accident, I found the perfect Voice. When my cover artist Fiona Jayde was putting the trailer together she found Daniel Dorse, a voice actor willing to voice-over the trailer. He and got to talking, I listened to some of his projects and I hired him.
Here is that trailer which was featured in a USA Today post about "best book trailers!"


Here is the flip side of audio books: Not everyone will "love" your choice of narrator as much as you. I've already had at least one potential listener email me a little lecture about my "poor choice" (right before she proceeded to pimp 2 other narrators to me, so we know where THAT came from). 

Daniel's voice is deep, low, gravelly at the right time and light at others. I think it's perfect. Eve though I fully realize my risk putting him "out there" as the voice of my series. Audio book listeners are in many ways even more picky and subjective than plain old readers. 

But if you are an audio book aficionado like myself, I would highly encourage you to give Daniel Dorse's take on my family saga a shot. Click here to read a bit about how Daniel felt about bringing Antony, Kieran, Dominic, Aiden and their supporting cast of characters to life!

To that end, I'm including 2 samples (via the audible links) AND a 10-day contest for FIVE FREE DOWNLOADS of either Love Garage or Coach Love. (5 total free downloads).

Click here to listen to the "sample" of Love Garage!
Click here to listen to the "sample" of Coach Love!

Just click the "Listen to Audio Sample" right underneath the cover!

And now....allow me to give away a few of these!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Love, Albert

One randomly chosen winner via Rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Love, AlbertBy Lynda Simmons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:  
Sometimes all love needs is a road trip, a rubber chicken and a touch of magic

Vicky Ferguson loves her husband Reid, always has, always will. But with two kids to think about, it’s time for the free-wheeling, sports car loving pilot to put his feet on the ground and lay down some roots. Reid can’t imagine life without Vicky but neither can he see himself pushing a lawn mower or driving a mini-van. They’re on track to a divorce neither one wants until a last request from beloved Uncle Albert puts them on the road together one last time. 


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
 “Which brings us to the issue at hand,” the lawyer said and opened a file. “I have here the last will and testament of Albert Ferguson. Handwritten but perfectly legal.” He leaned down and picked up Albert’s old leather suitcase. It was the only thing the old man ever carried – the true master of travelling light. Lyle set the case on the desk, undid the straps and slid back the zipper. Reached inside and came up with a pair of Groucho Marx glasses, complete with bulbous pink nose, bushy eyebrows, and a formidable mustache.
Reid sat forward. “Not the glasses,” he said, a smile already tugging at his lips.
Lyle nodded solemnly and put them on, carefully adjusting the nose over his own before picking up the paper again. The lawyer’s delivery was perfectly straight, if a bit nasal. “I, Albert John Ferguson, being of sound mind and body— ”
Reid glanced over at Vicky. She was staring at the lawyer, eyes wide, lips pinched tightly together, holding back her laughter.
“Do hereby bequeath all my worldly goods to my favorite nephew and niece, Reid Allan Ferguson and Victoria Ann Ferguson, to be used as they see fit. This includes one hand buzzer, one whoopee cushion, one pair of Groucho glasses.” He reached into the suitcase again. “One rubber chicken –”
“I’ll take that.” Vicky’s face turned pink when the lawyer paused and looked at her over the nose of the glasses. “For the kids,” she added, and turned to Reid. “Unless you want it.”
“Not at all.” He pointed to the suitcase. “But I’ve got dibs on the fl y-in-the-ice-cube.”
“One fly-in-the-ice-cube,” Lyle continued, and set it in front of Reid. “One can of worms—”
“Snakes,” Reid cut in. “They’re snakes.”
The lawyer slid the can toward him and Reid popped the lid. Three long colorful snakes sprang from the tin and flew over the desk, squeaking as they bounced against the walls. “They were always his favorite.” Reid smiled at Vicky. “Do you mind if I take them?”
She held up the whoopee cushion. “Not as long as I can have this,” she said, and Reid understood why Albert had loved her, too.
“You can go through the rest on your own later,” Lyle said, taking off the glasses and setting them aside. “But in return for his worldly goods, Albert has a favor to ask.”
Reid raised his head. “A favor?”
“More of a decree really.” Lyle cleared his throat and resumed reading from the will. “In return for my worldly goods, Reid and Vicky must promise to take my remains to Seaport, Oregon. ”
The chicken’s head bobbed as she sat up straighter. “But I thought he’d already been buried.”
“Not quite.” Lyle lifted a plain white shoebox out of the suitcase and set it on the desk in front of them. “He’s been waiting for you.”
Reid stared at the box. “That’s Albert?”
“Ashes to ashes.” The lawyer picked up the box. “I know it’s not much to look at, but it’s practical, sturdy, and holds up to five pounds of loved one, no problem.” He looked from Reid to Vicky. “The point is Albert didn’t want a fancy urn because he wasn’t planning to spend much time in it anyway.”
Reid shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Lyle smiled. “Your Uncle Albert wants to fly one last time.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Lynda Simmons is a writer by day, college instructor by night and a late sleeper on weekends. She grew up in Toronto reading Greek mythology, bringing home stray cats and making up stories about bodies in the basement. From an early age, her family knew she would either end up as a writer or the old lady with a hundred cats. As luck would have it, she married a man with allergies so writing it was.
With two daughters to raise, Lynda and her husband moved into a lovely two storey mortgage in Burlington, a small city on the water just outside Toronto. While the girls are grown and gone, Lynda and her husband are still there. And yes, there is a cat - a beautiful, if spoiled, Birman.
When she's not writing or teaching, Lynda gives serious thought to using the treadmill in her basement. Fortunately, she's found that if she waits long enough, something urgent will pop up and save her - like a phone call or an e-mail or a whistling kettle. Or even that cat just looking for a little more attention!

Amazon Author Page:  http://www.amazon.com/Lynda-Simmons/e/B001KI3Z4O
http://www.lyndasimmons.com/http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/958842.Lynda_Simmonshttps://www.facebook.com/pages/Lynda-Simmons-Author/149740745067442https://twitter.com/LyndaMSimmons


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Do You Know What I Love?

I LOVE a good series!
So much so when I was concocting my writing plan for 2014 I came up with a new one!
Check out the killer trailer produced by Fiona Jayde Media and narrated by Daniel Dorse, who will voice all of the audio books:
It was featured in the USA Today review of book trailers last year!
Now, mind you, each of the books in The Love Brothers series can be read and enjoyed stand alone if you are inclined but as I tend to do, I twine stories together and when each one is about one member of a large, Irish/Italian heritage family you can't help but read one and want to know more about "that other brother."
Go ahead, read down the post, check out the blurbs and excerpts and be sure and enter the rafflcopter contest! Lots of fun prizes to be won! Entry at the end of this post.
Welcome to RELEASE DAY for books 1 & 2!
THE LOVE BROTHERS ~ Family saga with humor, heat & heart...not to mention beer, bourbon & basketball!

Love GarageBook 1Goodreads LinkBuy It Here!

Blurb
Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.
When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony's garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: "Don't smoke in my truck, don't be late for work, and don't mess with my girlfriend."
But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony's lifelong best friend and all bets are off.
Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River--except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.
The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball.

Love Garage Excerpt :
“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna hire you because you’re my baby brother. No, wait. My lazy, bookworm, useless baby brother, who’s gone and dropped out of that expensive, fancy writing school he just had to get into, and now shows up here at my business, in this ole backwater, hillbilly town...broke and looking like he’s been dragged through a knothole.”Aiden flinched in the face of Antony’s fury. His hands curled into fists deep inside his trouser pockets, as a too-familiar rush of anger threatened to consume him. He waited and watched, seeking visual cues from their growing up years. Antony merely leaned against the tallest worktable, slowly wiping off some kind of a wrench with a blue cloth, his dark eyes inscrutable.The sounds of a busy garage swirled around them, filling the real and virtual space between Aiden and the man who’d been his protector and friend his entire life. That gaping hole he’d placed there, with his casual disregard for his family and seeking escape from this very hillbilly backwater. Those were the words he’d used not that long ago. Flung back at him in Antony’s overblown, exaggerated redneck accent, they stung like ice pellets.Not for the first time, Aiden deeply regretted the effort he’d made to keep distance between them—from all his brothers—for the last seven-and-a-half years. It had seemed the right thing then, with him in the full flush of his heady personal expectations as the next Great American Novel Author.He gulped, and forced his voice to remain steady. Heaven knows he’d had plenty of years to practice not rising to Antony’s bait.“Yes…um, well, kind of. Yeah. That is what I’m thinking.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck while Antony observed him without moving or speaking—barely even blinking.The bastard isn’t going to make this easy, is he? Aiden cleared his throat and tried to find the right words. They failed him.“Never mind.” He turned to shoulder his way through the grease monkeys peopling Antony’s successful auto-repair joint. His head buzzed with exhaustion from his trip “riding the dog,” as he’d learned his trip by Greyhound bus was named, and anxiety over the reason he’d made it.As he reached for the office door, after making it all the way across the garage, a distinct noise like resignation hit his ears.Ridiculous, of course. He could barely think amidst all the garage noise, let alone hear his oldest brother heaving his patented sigh from all the way across it. But Aiden turned anyway, knowing, somehow, that he had.Antony remained propped against the workbench, still clutching the blue rag. Still staring holes into Aiden. “You don’t even know how to change the oil on a late model pickup. You’re about useful as tits on a bull.”Aiden squared his shoulders and tried to look somewhat more useful than that.“Maybe, but I can clean up after the guys who do know how, or I can keep your books, update your website, get you active on Facebook and Twitter and—” That sounded desperate. But he might as well own that, too.“I don’t use any of that shit.” Antony dropped the rag on the bench and scowled as an employee rolled a couple of tires by him. “I don’t need it. I have more work than I can handle now.”“Yeah? Well, maybe you should think about it. What happens when the work dries up?”Antony let out a distinctly unpleasant-sounding laugh. “Little bro, you obviously missed class the day they talked about the recession-proof businesses.” He held up three fingers. “Cars always need fixing. People always need to drink beer. Kids always need teaching. By my calculations, the Love family is pretty fuckin’ smart. But for one of us, I guess.”Aiden bit the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing back in defense then tried a different tactic.“Mama is sick. You forget that? Ever think maybe I came home to be here for her?” He had to shut his eyes for a split second to dispel the concept of a world without the formidable Lindsay Halloran Love in it.Antony grunted and headed toward one of the four lifts. Each had a car hoisted on it and a guy underneath, messing around with whatever they did under there. He reached up and fiddled with something beneath what looked like a big black Mercedes sedan, ignoring Aiden. Given that he had no other viable option, Aiden let him.His sister had broken the news about their mother to him four days earlier, around 5:00 p.m. He’d never forget the moment—since it happened to be the same day he’d discovered he’d failed a poetry-writing seminar, plus made a serious miscalculation by drinking too much and then coming on to a hot professor at a department social event. He’d seen her next day at the panel “discussion” of his final novel.Lack of clear plot progression, shallow characters and poor dialogue choices, had been the gist of their “advice.”Jerks. Wouldn’t know a decent, modern plot if it bit them all in the collective ass. So what if I want to actually make money with a book, and not just collect a lot of critical admiration?Shifting from foot to foot, he calculated how long Antony would make him stand there like a supplicant before he caved. Because cave he would. Aiden understood enough about his eldest sibling to realize that. The strains of the latest Luke Bryan song wafted around, chafing his exposed nerve endings.As Aiden watched, Antony finished under the Merc and hit the button to lower it back to the garage floor. Then he spent a solid ten minutes consulting beneath the hood of a late model F-150, another five wiping down a set of tools, and ten more fiddling with his phone. But Aiden didn’t say anything, lest he break into the man’s thought pattern. That would only trigger his temper—the last thing Aiden needed at that moment.Memories of angry explosions past made him sigh, rub the back of his neck, and touch his still-crooked nose. While the Love siblings were fiercely loyal to each other—they maintained zero tolerance for bullshit between them. He took a step backward, regretting his decision to come here first, as opposed to the brewery on the west side of town to beg his father to hire him to pour beer, shift kegs, or hose out brewing equipment, mainly because that would also mean facing Dominic. Between them all, he’d much rather deal with Antony.He refocused when Antony frowned at him, as if sensing his sudden mental flinch.Aiden raised an eyebrow in a “well, I’m very busy, and important, and require an answer” sort of way. His stomach churned, reminding him of the disgusting fast food he’d inhaled earlier. He hated being the screw-up little brother. Honest to God, he hated it, almost as much as he despised the country music pounding on his eardrums right then.


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Coach LoveBook 2Goodreads LinkBuy It Here!  

Blurb The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him. Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed. COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game. Coach Love EXCERPT: “Hey, is that your redheaded Love?”Cara turned to see where her friend was pointing. “Yep.” Heat crept up her neck. “So what?”“So, he is looking fine,” the other woman said. “Why’d you dump that delicious ginger anyway?”“You know why,” Cara muttered, angry Kieran had chosen the one place in the newly face-lifted downtown that she figured he’d never visit. He hated wine. Or at least, he used to when they could only afford the cheap stuff.“Funny how those boys all ended up back home,” Tricia said into her glass.Cara recalled that her friend had experienced her own run-in with Aiden, right after he’d wandered home to Kentucky over a year ago. “Yeah, hilarious,” she quipped, making Tricia giggle. “Stupid Love brothers.”“I’ll drink to that.” Tricia raised her glass. They both observed the tall man squinting into the dark interior as if looking for someone. When he caught sight of them, he waved and headed in their direction. “Uh oh, old boyfriend time. That’s my cue to go.”Cara reached for the other woman’s arm. “Don’t you dare leave me here with him, Patricia.” She could barely hear anything thanks to her wild heartbeat. “I mean it. I see him every week at PT and that’s bad enough. I can’t...be social with him. Not now. Not after....”Tricia sighed. “Good Lord. Whatever. I swan those Loves are gonna be the death of me yet.”Relieved that she’d have someone to run interference if she needed it, Cara tried not to admit that she needed Tricia to keep her from getting drunk and jumping her old boyfriend’s bones for old time’s sake. Even the thought of that made her furious with her weak-willed self. I have a fiancé, a rich one, a hot one, and have zero business doing anything more than having casual conversation with Kieran Love. “Well, what a lovely couple of ladies,” he said as he sauntered over, dressed for a date. She tried not to stare at the stubble on his jaw, or the slope of his shoulders, or at that thick mop of bright-red hair that matched her own, or at anything related to him. He loomed over her, making her blink.Oh boy. I’m gone halfway to drunk-town already. This could get weird.“It would seem I’m early for my date. May I buy you both a glass?” “Sure thing. Why the hell not?”The exasperation in Tricia’s voice came through loud and clear, so Cara attempted to say something coherent but all the spit in her mouth had gone dry. He climbed onto a tall chair next to her and propped his dress-shirt-covered elbows on the bar. The urge to run her fingers through his hair made her palms itch. When their glasses arrived he raised his for a toast.“To what are we drinking?” Tricia asked.His gaze met hers and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something stupid. “To old friends.”She sipped then spluttered and coughed when the acidic red wine went down her windpipe. Kieran smacked her between the shoulder blades. When it became apparent she would live, he resumed his study of the middle distance over the bar. Without thinking of possible consequences, she touched his khaki-covered thigh.“You all right?” she asked, catching a whiff of the light cologne and beer that encircled him. He glanced over at her, which placed his face too near hers. But she didn’t move until he pecked her lips quickly then focused on the depths of his wine glass as if it held the very secrets to the universe. Tricia elbowed her so hard Cara yelped and rubbed her arm. “Old friends, huh,” Tricia said around her to the obviously brooding man. “I don’t know about you boys. I just don’t know.”He frowned then glanced over his shoulder when someone came in the door. When it proved to be some other couple he slumped over the bar again. Fury at his woman for dissing him tonight, and at her own lame, ancient excuses for letting go of him in the first place filled her brain. To her utter horror he draped his arm around her shoulders. His breath felt hot and smelled boozy. “Old friends are important,” he declared. She nodded, not looking at him. Letting go, he crouched over his wine glass. “I’m fucked,” he said, so softly she barely heard him. “I need someone to listen to me.”“I can listen.” Recognizing she’d slipped into flirt mode but incapable of stopping, she sipped her wine then set it down when it turned to vinegar in her mouth. “You always were good at that.” He gave her a half-smile and nudged her thigh with his, sending a bolt of lust down her spine and a whirl of memories crowding into her wine-muddled brain. The two of them had been buddies since forever it seemed. His mother had hired hers to clean house and work in the brewery after Cara’s father had run off with the family bank account. She’d gotten to know all the brothers well but had been drawn to the quiet, polite, athletic redheaded one. Their near-matching hair color made people call them the ginger duo even as they remained friends through junior high.He had been her first at everything, and she his. They’d fumbled around for a couple of years in high school, plus one in college before parting ways for reasons she didn’t like to think about anymore. By the time she’d dumped him, they’d had sex in more ways and in more locations than she’d thought possible. And to this day, she considered the standard he’d set for her nearly impossible to beat—until recently, of course.“Well, I’m gonna leave you two old friends to yourselves,” Tricia declared, her voice strained. Cara reached for her arm again. “No, Tricia, don’t.”“I’m not interested in a Love-brother sob story, sorry.” She glanced over at the one in question. “Not in the mood.”“Can’t say as I blame you.” Self-pity had crept into Kieran’s voice.“Don’t do anything dumb. I mean it.” Her friend’s whisper barely registered in Cara’s ears.A combination of dazed, loopy, and embarrassingly horny sensations overwhelmed her. Something magnificent seemed imminent, likely a result of the wine swirling around in her bloodstream on top of the too-many gin drinks from dinner. She took a long breath and flipped her hair over her shoulder.
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I also love me a good cliffhanger so be warned: Book 2 has one! Book 3 (Love Brewing) will release March 1 in ebook but I have ARCs available now! I'll be awarding a few inside my Liz Crowe Fan Group over the course of the coming weeks as well as sending them out to interested review blogs. Here's a teaser....
Love BrewingBook 3Available in ebook March 1, 2015Check Out the GoodReads Early Buzz Here 

Blurb: Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive. Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.
Excerpt: Diana patted Pepper’s flank as she released him into the paddock then leaned against the barn door, relishing the soreness in her muscles. The sun burned a white hole in the light-blue late summer sky. Smells of her childhood filled her nose, smoothing her edges.A bit of coolness in the air, heralding the coming seasonal transition, sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Masie, the pregnant cow, uttered a low moo, snapping Diana out of daydreaming about her favorite season—the hunting kind. It brought her long to-do list flashing across her brain, reminding her she still had to finish mucking out the rest of the barn. The garden was in desperate need of weeding, too. The last of her tomatoes were due in and her sister had already sent three texts that morning about the chicken salad Diana still had to make and get over to the shop.With a heavy sigh, she let the light wind cool her skin. Her arms burned and her thighs shook in a wholly welcome, familiar way, post long ride. She dropped onto the overturned bucket from the horse’s cool-and-wash.“Go on, get out there, ya big baby.” She smiled when the huge animal nuzzled her shoulder before he trotted away obediently, sticking his nose into the water trough, tail flicking lazily, indicating satisfaction with the morning’s proceedings. Bees buzzed, the cow made another lowing sound, late season locusts hummed, and the sun heated her skin. Drifting, her mind calm and free of Jen’s endless demands and catering menus she let the sweet sounds and distinct odors of her family’s farm soothe her.When the horse whinnied and snorted, Diana ignored it and stretched her legs out. One of the dogs let out a loud bark then the other two joined in. They sounded delighted, so Diana figured that her sister must have arrived in the catering van to pick up the chicken salad—the one Diana hadn’t even started yet.Deciding to pretend she was alone a minute longer and enjoy the peace and quiet she always found in the barn, Diana closed her eyes.“Hey.” A distressingly familiar male voice hit her ears. “Um...Diana?”She blew out a breath, unwilling to acknowledge how much she would have given at one point in her life to hear that voice say her name again.“What do you want?”“Just a place to crash. Hide a bit, I don’t know.”“Why now? I thought you and your folks were gettin’ on like a house afire.” She tried to keep the anger out of her words, but it was nearly impossible.“Diana. Please.”She opened her eyes and observed the man she’d loved as long as she could recall. Dominic Love stood in front of her dressed in, of all things, a pair of dress pants and crumpled, long-sleeved shirt. A red tie hung loose around his neck. He had his blond hair scraped back and tied at his nape so she could see he’d added more body art. He stood still, hands tucked in his trouser pockets, his expression scarily blank.She rose and smacked the dust off her ass then stood, arms crossed, willing him not to be there, not to tempt her, because God help her still loved the man, despite how badly he’d treated her.“I am not letting you back in my bed, Dom.”When the corner of his full lips lifted in a smirk, she imagined how satisfying it would feel to smack it off his face—with a blunt instrument.“Not asking for that…yet.”“Go to hell.” She brushed by him, forcing him out of her brain. He snagged her arm and held on tight.“I’m already there, babe, trust me. I swear I just need a friend right now and someplace to lay low. I’ll help around the place, you know that.”As if on cue, the horse bumped Dom’s shoulder, shoving the man forward. The grip on her arm tightened and Dom leaned in close. She yanked away from him, keeping her gaze on the far horizon and her mind on the fact that if she went with her gut right then, she’d pull him back into her life, no questions asked.“You can sleep out here.”He let go. “Thanks, babe.”She clenched her jaw. “Stop calling me babe, you shit-heel, motherfucking, selfish, cheating asshole.”“Okay,” he muttered, but his eyes were bright in a way she knew well. She walked away, letting the memory of their last, and she believed final, fight fill her mind, fueling her fury as she put one boot in front of the other, placing as much distance as she could between them.The dogs circled her legs, escorting her en masse to the door. It slammed, cutting off their nervous whines and snuffling, leaving her standing in the middle of her outdated, overworked kitchen. Usually being in this room helped her forget all the crap going on in the real world while she transformed the various vegetables from her large garden and the meats she’d either hunted or raised herself into meals fit for a five-star restaurant.She shook her head. There were no five-star-restaurantsin her universe and there never had been. Even thinking those three words in that order caused heat to rise up her neck and into her face at the memory of her ex-husband—the man who’d swooped in right after Dominic’s last rejection of her and convinced her that he would open the restaurant of her dreams, using the inheritance money she’d saved.Yeah, that had worked out not-so-well.Men.Stupid, lying, cheating men. Stupid me and my stupid need to have one nearby all the stupid time.Her hand landed on something substantial and her fingers curled around it. She picked up the cast iron pan slowly, contemplating it for a split second, recalling she’d left it out to use for frying bacon. With a noise between a grunt and a yell, she put every bit of long-forgotten frustration into the effort to fling the pan at the door. At the last second she worried she might hit one of the dogs.But there was no canine yip of pain. They’d vacated her immediate area, likely sensing the temper eruption on her horizon before she did. It did bust a satisfying hole through the screen at the top of the door and hit the back porch railing with a musical clang that echoed back to her still burning ears.She blew her hair out of her eyes, ready to tackle the next thing on her long to-do list—this time free of any memory of her last disaster of a relationship. That loser—now officially her ex-husband—had been floating through, setting up some chain restaurant over in Lexington. Memories of his handsome face and lying mouth rolled through her head even as she tried to halt them. A real five-star restaurant, Di, he’d liked to say, usually when they were naked. That and, You should try it, and, I could use thirty thousand of your dollars to make it work, plus, let’s get married!And they were naked a lot.Diana groaned and leaned over the sink for a few seconds then straightened. She had too much to do. There was no time for that kind of useless reminiscing. Damn Dominic Love to hell and back for showing up and sending her into this tailspin.She grabbed her mother’s soup pot, slammed it into the sink and starting filling it from the leaky tap. A breeze lifted the lace curtains at the window, stirring the hair around her face. She smelled the rain a few seconds before it let loose, pounding onto the grass between the kitchen window and the barn. Squinting through the sheeting water she spotted Dominic standing in the middle of the paddock, seemingly impervious to the deluge.Pepper trotted over to see what could possibly make the tall, yellow-haired male human stand in the rain like an idiot. When Dom didn’t respond to nudging, the animal gave every appearance of shrugging and glancing in her direction with a whattaya gonna do look before getting under cover in the barn.Within a very few minutes, Dom’s drenched dress shirt clung to him. She watched, gape-jawed and shivering as he yanked his hair from its tie and shook it free, turning his face to take the full force of the increasing downpour, arms outstretched as if preparing for crucifixion. Then he seemed to disappear in the space of a blink. She turned off the tap, which was overflowing the pot by then anyway, and ran out the door.Heart pounding, ears ringing with well-remembered panic over what she might find, she took the expanse of grass between house and paddock in a few long strides. In her fury at how casually he’d sauntered back into her life that morning, she hadn’t thought to study his eyes very closely. Diana had memorized long ago how Dominic’s deep-brown gaze took a particular edge, a kind of sharp, distinctive sparkle, when he hovered on the verge of a breakdown.The rain soaked all the way to her skin by the time she rounded the post at the paddock. At a burst of lightening, she flinched and started counting, only getting to three seconds before the ear-splitting thunderclap. She squinted, seeking a prone, muddy Dominic. But the paddock was empty. Cursing, she glanced back at the house. It was pretty well futile to run back now that she’d gotten drenched. She mirrored Dom’s earlier stance, letting the rain pound against her cheeks, forehead, and lips. Lightning flashed. Thunder followed. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, only getting louder as she realized what an utter whack job she must be, out there, cackling and drinking rain.

BONUS ALERT! Watch for the free Love Brothers Novella "SAFE LOVE" coming to your kindle e-reader February 28....it's short, hot and very crucial to your understanding to what the heck happened between Antony and Margot in book 1..... #justsaying
A few lucky readers will win EARLY copies of this novella later this month...watch this space!

Now...let's win, shall we? Enter!!!a Rafflecopter giveaway
______________________Love this series already? Wanna help me out?Here are 2 pre-made tweets you can post around over the next few weeks if you are so inclined and I thank you kindly in advance!
RT @beerwencha2 The Love Brothers has #romance #familysaga #NA #seriesfiction http://www.brewingpassion.com/2015/01/do-you-know-what-i-love.html #lovebros #romance4reallife 
RT @beerwencha2 Time to pick your fav Love Brother! New Series from Liz Crowe http://www.brewingpassion.com/2015/01/do-you-know-what-i-love.html #lovebros #romance4reallife #romance

Top Ten Reasons To Celebrate a Non Event--OR The Birthday Post

CAVEAT EMPTOR: What follows is a reflection by this blogger/author regarding her thoughts on today's significance. It is generously interspersed with random photos of dudes, a few eff-bombs, and other things that are funny as long as you maintain a legitimate sense of humor. If you lack one of those....move along, 'cause it's my dang birthday!


Ah, December, you old bastard....you've tackled me once again, wrestled me to the ground and are now sitting square on my chest, drooling and grinning like an idiot.




There was a time when December was my favorite month, hands down. I grew up in a home filled with the joy of Christmas, including some of the most beautiful music ever. We were not a wealthy family but come the holidays my parents made a point to put everything they had into creating a month's worth of beauty and celebration. It was never without its share of family drama of course. Nothing says "Happy Christmas" better than a huge argument across the extended family meal table.

Added bonus for me was that my birthday fell exactly one week before Christmas Eve (which is my favorite of the 2 days--I like the "build up" sometimes more than the "act.") So while I spent a fair bit of time fake-complaining about getting "cheated" with gifts for "both birthday and Christmas' I never really meant it.

As I got older and had a family of my own, I tried my best to replicate the sense of joyous anticipation that seeing the numbers "12/1" on the calendar page once invoked for me. One thing I learned right fast was that it is not as easy it would appear to be when you are on the receiving end of the "joy." But it was no hardship. Nothing beats walking around soaking up the kitschy, blaring millionth repetition of "Baby It's Cold Outside," clutching an overpriced, over sugared cardboard cup of fake coffee disguised as "eggnog latte" and elbowing past my fellow procrastinating shoppers with a grin on my face, anticipating the big glass of red wine waiting for me once I finish.

And yeah, I still liked to roll around in the fun of a Christmas-time birthday. Until recently.

It's been a year of bizarre occurrences, shocking revelations and other not-so-fun stuff even as recently as this week that have knocked me on my proverbial ass. Ok. It's not a proverbial ass but you get me I think. To tell you the truth, I never thought a year could unroll itself in such epically shocking fashion. But you know, even saying that makes me ashamed. I have a roof over my head, plenty of gas in the tank and food in the fridge. People in my family love and support me and my dogs are awesome.

But still....as I was writing my annual "Go Liz! You Rock! Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah! You don't get older you get better" BS that I typically regale you with this time of year I had to take a step back and think hard about what, exactly, I think I will celebrate today. So, in yet more typical Liz tongue jammed firmly in cheek fashion is the:

Top Ten List of Reasons I have to Celebrate My Non-Event (which, as ever, falls on December 17th):


10:  Teenagers who grow up. I have 2 of them now (or will come Dec. 29 when Wenchling Numero Dos: a.k.a. The Tattooed One ---hmmm I see a name change coming on---turns 20). Once these monsters get a few years on 'em they are actually pleasant to hang out with. Which is a good thing for Soccer Wenchling, the one dangling teenaged Crowe 'cause sometimes.... I wonder if she and I will make it to her 17th birthday. But that said (see Number 6 below) I am in a Proud Mom stage with a 22-year old waiting to hear from pharmacy school admissions after a somewhat rocky start to his college experience (Numero Uno--a.k.a. the King of Sports Minutia) and an almost 20-year-old daughter who is so dang smart in math & science it shames me---were I not so gut-busting proud of her--of all the Wenchlings since they have taken after their father in the "left brain" arena.

9.  Bikram Choudhury's Beginning Yoga Practice. I spew a lot about the "hot yoga torture room" but I can say with 100% accuracy that this very challenging "Yoga for Type A's" that I've been practicing off and on (mostly off in the past few years) since 2007 is one of the things saving me from spinning off into the stratosphere. No, I don't really "like it" especially at that moment I hit between "half moon" and "awkward pose" when my fight or flight instinct is SCREAMING at me to run, fast, out of the room. But I love it and what it has done, and will continue to do for me. Thanks to Lora Rosenbaum for opening her west side Ann Arbor studio. Try it. You'll see what I mean....once you're done trying to run me over with your car after class.

8. Facebook & Twitter. Yeah, they are another one of those Loathe/Lust things for me. But many times they not only provide the perfect outlet for silliness (not to mention selling books) but also for a serious Reality Check about how much crazier everyone else is than me.

7.  New projects and characters. I wrote 3 novels this year: Love Garage, Coach Love and Love Brewing (and began a novella: Safe Love). This has been fun, cathartic and very much a learning experience with regard to how bloody hard it is to be an "Indie Self Published Author" in a vacuum.

6. Friends who yank that vacuum out of your hand, set it down slowly, shove you into a chair and put a drink in your hand with the words "calm down. We can fix this." Yes, most recently I was reminded of the value of this sort of friend when she took me by my shaking hand and guided me toward simpler answers to questions that seemed absolutely unanswerable. While the world of "novelists" is a cutthroat one, I can only hope that someday I will be able to help someone along at least sanity-wise like I have been helped this year. She knows who she is and I say "2015 is our year!"

5.  The Soccer Wenchling (tied with "the recruiting process"). This year has been chock full 'o stress, including the one called "getting committed." No, not the looney bin although that is never far out side the realm of my personal possibility. You do know I listen to the voices in my head, right? Otherwise there would be no books. But I digress. This year, we have been all-consumed with helping Soccer Wenchling a.k.a. the One Remaining Teenager Crowe with achieving her goal: Playing Soccer in College. Between game videos, websites, recruiting consultants, emails, showcase tournaments and being surrounded by teammates who are doing the same thing and parents who are Utterly and Annoyingly Obsessed with it, we have reached what could be near the end. One more National League tourney (Orlando, New Year's, Again) and we/she hopes to have something settled in the very early days of 2015. I can't say enough how much I admire this kid for her resilience in the face of Junior Year, a near 4.0 GPA and all this bloody soccer--not to mention her Utterly Annoying Parents.

4.  Fans. Yeah, I've said it before but I'm gonna say it once more...this Getting Successful at Writing thing is 100% a "one reader at a time" sort of slog up hill, pushing the boulder, sliding back down then putting your shoulder into it even harder the next day. 2014 was a year that, while on the one had sucked donkey balls was a big time challenge, also was a bit of a turn the corner one with regard to reader fans. I found a lot more. I was more diligent about going out and finding them. I got to be aces at ignoring haters (which is no mean feat). And it will wrap up nicely with some pretty exciting things coming for said fans in 2015. Onward. If you are already a fan, go smack someone upside the head with a Liz Crowe book, willya? Let's keep this carpet ride going.

3.  New collaborators. As part of my process of self publishing The Love Brothers, a planned 4.5 book series for 2015, I have been privileged to amass a crack team of folks, some new to me, some not that I think will really bode well for this series. Wizards in Self Publishing provided some of the fucking hardest best editing ever (as usual). Photographer Taria Reed (new to me) worked with Scott Nova (not new to me, see: "Hans") to come up with some amazing images that Fiona Jayde (new to me) then put into some kick-ass covers and graphics AND a trailer that is already getting buzz. Then, I added The Voice, Daniel Dorse to the happy little Liz group. He did the trailer voiceover and just finished up narrating Coach Love. Both Love Garage & Coach Love audio versions will be available when the books go live on January 5, 2015.

2.  The Wolverine State Brewing Company. Yes, this is the brewery that I helped to found, start up, market, tweet, Facebook, travel for and otherwise birth, complete with the usual pains, most of them mine starting in 2008 and ending in May of 2014. When I decided to toss my real estate career aside for this particular dream, never in a million years would I imagine what a rich, wonderful world the craft brewing one is. I have made some of the best friends ever thanks to my time with this particular group of.... gentlemen. Thank you, WSBC for teaching me the sort of lesson everyone really should learn about whom to trust, preferably before they turn 48. I wish you nothing but the best.

1. Family. This is a tough one right now as we are experiencing more than our fair share of drama and upheaval, especially during what was once my favorite time of the year. I won't bore you, or air the dirty laundry here because that just is not my style, but suffice it say, I plan to make 2015 A Year of Successes. 'Cause really, there is only one way we can go from here and that way is "up." I have way too many years in this thing to think otherwise.






So in honor of The Anniversary of my birth + 47 (do the math, trust me) one of my publishers is raising her virtual glass across the way on her blog. I love to set goals. So this year, despite all the wild and craziness, I set one. And since that goal was met, I am rewarding my fans both old and new with a new book late in 2015. Check that out by clicking here. It includes "Chapter One" of the Good Faith sequel. (hint: THERE IS A CONTEST WITH PRIZES)

And....let me just get a "hell yeah" for this set of kick butt new covers for my top selling Stewart Realty original trilogy: Floor Time/Sweat Equity/Closing Costs!

Damn... If could squeeze in a 10.5 up there on things I'm celebrating on this non-event day it would be "Jack Gordon." This fictional man has brought me more joy, fun, tears, sighs and gritted teeth than I'm willing to bet any future Liz character ever will. He is my male alter-ego on many levels. And for that, I really do love him.

Make it a GREAT Holiday season and don't forget shameless promotion about THE LOVE BROTHERS!
Love Garage
Coach Love
both available for pre-order and will hit your kindle live on 1/5/2015
Love Brewing drops March 1, 2015.
And a FREE NOVELLA "Safe Love" will release at some point in February, but you may not hear it over the cacophany of fake handcuffs, rookie rope tying and swooning over the Virgin Gets Spanked by the Billionaire and Cures Him of His Freaky-Deakiness on the Big Screen. 


Seriously. You like those people? You will groove on Jack and Sara...way more real, and yet so much sexier for it! But what do I know?


Love,
An every day older and yet....better,
Liz

Book Blast: Coming to Rosemont by Barbara Hinske

***Barbara will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. 
Coming to RosemontByBarbara Hinske
BLURB:  
Forensic accountant Maggie Martin survives the sudden death of her husband, the charismatic President of Windsor College, only to uncover the secrets of his carefully-concealed double life. Dealing with the financial and emotional wreckage left in Paul’s wake, she is stunned to learn he inherited an estate known as Rosemont in the seemingly-serene Midwestern town of Westbury. Why had he never told her?

Maggie travels to Westbury for the stated purpose of listing Rosemont for immediate sale, but what she really seeks are answers to her all-consuming questions about her sham of a marriage; her sham of a life. She never anticipated the seductive charm of Rosemont. Throwing her trademark caution to the wind, and over the objections of her opinionated grown children, she pulls up stakes and moves halfway across the country, determined to make a fresh start in Westbury. Behind closed doors, however, lurks a cadre of evildoers, playing with multiple wild cards of fraud, embezzlement and arson.

With a quiet, orderly – and distinctively solitary – life in mind, Maggie is instead thrown headlong into a crusade against political corruption, where defeat and retreat are not an option. Still bearing the scars of betrayal, will she find joy, romance and possibility in Westbury?

This fast-paced, smart novel has enough twists and turns to make the reader want to buckle in!









Excerpt 


Maggie dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the squirming dog.  “You don’t know how much I appreciate being able to have Eve with me tonight,” she beamed up at John.  “My flight was delayed and I had a Chatty-Cathy car rental agent.  I drove like a maniac to get here. I’m really very grateful you waited.  The lot was empty and I thought that I was too late.”
“It was no trouble.  I was catching up on paperwork,” John assured her.  “I live on the other side of the Square and walk to work, weather permitting.  I usually stop at one of the restaurants on the way home for dinner.”
“Are you done?  Would you like a lift home?” 
John knew an opportunity when he saw one.  “I just need to lock up,” he said.  “Are you hungry?  Or are you full of delicious airline food,” he mocked.  When she shook her head and indicated that she was, indeed, starved, he proposed that the three of them walk over to Pete’s for dinner. They could leave her car at the Hospital and she could drop him off at his house after dinner.




AUTHOR INFORMATION:

Barbara Hinske is a practicing attorney in Phoenix, Arizona. She has two grown children with her exceedingly kind and good second husband, who died of cancer in 2006. Lucky in love, Barb married another exceptional man and father of two in 2010, and they live in their own Rosemont with two adorable and spoiled dogs.
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Barbara-Hinske/402247529854511https://twitter.com/BarbaraHinskehttp://pinterest.com/BarbaraHinske/http://barbarahinske.com/https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/15080873-barbara-hinskeNewsletter sign up http: //bit.ly/1BIS8F2
Coming to Rosemont - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BHPF2PU/
Weaving the Strands - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JW7E3AU/
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/users/16897013-coming-to-rosemont?shelf=to-read
https://www.goodreads.com/shelf/users/21946348-weaving-the-strands?shelf=to-read

Click HERE to enter to win the $25 gift card!

Booklovers UNITE! (And win!)

Greetings and welcome to a contest...a big one, sponsored by yours truly, a bunch of other authors and hosted by Night Owl Reviews! You have exactly 6 (six) days left to enter....




It's easy to win!They are giving away:5 = $100 Amazon Gift Cards
5 = $50 Amazon Gift Cards
18 = $25 Amazon Gift Cards 


CLICK HERE AND ENTER TO WIN!!!