Liz Crowe's Blog, page 9

Do You Know Jack?

Greetings Liz fans and newcomers!

Every Thanksgiving (and many times at the New Year) I reward my fan base over on Facebook with a free scene, which, in all honesty for some writers would qualify as a "short story."

This year, I held with tradition, and provided the Jack & Sara short in 3 segments over the the weekend. Some folk call this "preaching to the choir." I call it "rewarding the loyal with scenes I would put in another book, were I to write one."

And frankly, whether you call them "street teams," "fan girls," or just plan old "fans," these are the people who are spreading the word....for me.

Since I don't have a well-oiled, well-funded promotional machine working on my behalf, other than what I can conjure with the 24 hours allotted to me in a day, I count on these folks and they are thankfully growing in size and continuing to help me convince others to give a Liz Book a shot!

The Jack & Sara concept began about 6 years ago, when I decided to conjure a novel about relationships that got its fair share of rejections (with good reason 'cause GAWD it was crappy at first, second, third and fourth iterations.) Thank heavens for a lovely, patient woman at Tri Destiny Publishing who spotted its diamond qualities in the raw coal of it's 6th version! It is thanks to her and her alone that the thing ever saw the light of day, much less became the sweeping saga that ended with GOOD FAITH last November that it is.

I thought I'd share this year's scene for a few reasons.
1. It's poignant, funny, sexy and really represents my "style" of writing so, if you haven't yet read one of my books you can get a taste of it. 
2.  It's a bit of a Final Full Stop. Now that I'm on the cusp of my first self published series and have pretty much set my writing and publishing plan for 2015, I don't anticipate writing or posting any more of these.
3. It's an intro to the concept of the "Stewart Realty Extra Scenes" that will ALL be available on my website by the end of December. Each scene will have a caveat/warning at the beginning and I urge you to heed that statement. I put these folks through a lot over the course of our time together and some of the scenes are seriously spoiler-filled if you have not read up to the point indicated at the top of each post.

This one, frankly, you can read whether you've started the series or not. Yeah, I give away a bit of the farm with the Big Plot Point thru the first books by its very existence but so much happens to get Jack & Sara to this point you really ought to go back to square one and read from the start. All the links below are LIVE to the Amazon listing but all are also available on pretty much all the sites including All Romance Ebooks.

Lucky you, my publisher has set the first book FLOOR TIME as "perma free" on all sites.
Book 2: Sweat Equity
Book 3: Closing Costs
NOTE: books 1-3 above can also be purchased as an Anthology together in ebook or print.
Book 4: Essence of Time
Book 5: Conditional Offer
Book 6: Escalation Clause
Book 7: Mutual Release
Book 8: Good Faith: The Stewart Realty Final novel still only .99 for a few more weeks.
HOUSE RULES is a free (on the publisher's website) Jack Gordon prequel.

So now...I give you: Turkey Trot 2015. A Stewart Realty Extra Scene
Liz Crowe---all rights reserved**
Rated NC17 for explicit sexual activity




Jack didn't know if he should be congratulated, or smacked upside his fool head for thinking that this year, of all years, would be the "right one" for ALL the kids to participate in the annual race up Woodward Avenue in Detroit. As he drove through the snow that had gone from "pretty and soft" to "driving and dangerous" from Ann Arbor he sighed and sipped coffee, ignoring the general grumbling from the Gordon and Frietag peanut gallery in the SUV seats behind him.Sara patted his thigh and smiled as they waited in a long line of cars for their usual parking spot, a flat surface between two buildings--one still a bombed-out-looking shell, the other in the middle of a full frontal gentrification. It was the perfect Detroit dichotomy really. He put his hand over hers and leaned across the console for a quick kiss, reminding himself that this, Thanksgiving, had always been his favorite holiday--it had none of the grasping, materialistic pressure of the looming Christmas season, but allowed for a 24-hour period of honest-to-Christ togetherness that he knew their family lacked, given their increasing commitments."You taste good," he whispered to her, lingering over her lips. He leaned closer for a better, longer taste, his body reacting to their recent dry spell, sex-wise. One thing he'd never believed he'd forgo in favor of sleep, was getting laid. If you'd told him as a younger man that there would be days when the concept of getting it up and servicing his wife would not sound as good as a glass of bourbon and a nap he'd have laughed his ass off. Her hand slid up the inside of his thigh, making him grin into her lips and shift closer, thankful, for once for the traffic delay. He could tell she was pent up too--could smell it on her skin, taste it on her lips and tongue. His dick got hard so fast he grunted and gave himself a mental high five. Not bad for an old fart, he thought, reaching up under his wife's tight Under Armor shirt to grab her boob. "Jack," she whispered in a way that made his scalp tingle. "Honey," she said, letting her fingers glide up his equally Under Armor trapped erection. "Hmmm?" He asked, letting his eyes flicker to the brake lights in front of him before diving into her mouth, letting everything around him drown in the noise of his own urgency. A loud horn blatting in his ear made him jump and curse and tug his lycra trapped hand out from under Sara's shirt. "Shit," he said, running fingers through his bed-messy hair. Getting one's sorry ass up at 4 a.m. and dragging the spawn out of bed for their previously agreed upon first family/friends trek to the annual Turkey Trot did not lend itself to much prettification. Sara smiled and leaned back in her seat, keeping her hand near his crotch. "I love you," she mouthed. He blinked, anger lighting the edges of his horniness for a split second. "It's okay. Tomorrow, remember?" she said out loud. He nodded, still dazed and dizzy from the lack of blood to his brain at the moment. He'd convinced his buddy Rob to pawn their kids off for a weekend up North, an adults-only get away they needed, he'd claimed, since Rob finally had some time on the home front, away from his increasingly popular Beer and Food Chef show or whatever on the Eating Channel.He'd arranged for a second condo for Rob and Lila to occupy while he and Sara holed up in theirs for a couple of solid days of non-stop fuck-fest. He and Sara were worried about those two and hoped that some alone time would do them some good. Jack planned on making it very much "good" for himself and his lovely bride. He grinned and yanked her close again once he'd crept forward so the honking asshole behind him would lay off."God I'm horny," she whispered, gripping his dick outside his shorts again."Good, 'cause I'm gonna rock you, Mrs G," he whispered back, grinning when she did, then kissing her again, unable to get enough of her for some reason in the overheated interior of the car while the snow and wind howled around them."Daddy!" Brandis whined directly behind him. "Stop that. Bethany's face is....ew....! God! She just puked all over me!"Jack closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Sara's biting back to urge to curse again. This fatherhood thing sometimes made him doubt his sanity. When Bethany started crying and Brandis woke his buddy Gabe up with his yammering about the vomit on his shoes, Sara smacked Jack's cheek none to gently."This was your idea, hot shot. Remember?""I know, I know." He looked in the rear view. "Kate, honey? Grab the paper towels and wipes. I packed them just in case this happened."His oldest daughter nodded and got to work cleaning up, shushing her whiney brother up in the process.Later, the Turkey Trot accomplished, SUV cleaned, kids showered and everyone gathered around the Adams table this year, Jack raised his glass of wine, his heart full and his mind spinning in anticipation of the coming glorious two days alone with his gorgeous, smiling wife beside him."To the inaugural full family and friends Turkey Trot!" he declared, looking to Sara to give her one-topic toast as was their annual tradition."To my daughter Katie, whose patience kept the SUV calm this morning."They made their way around the large table and to Brandis, who sat on Jack's right. He frowned, thinking hard, his glass of milk held high. "To my Daddy," he said. "Who sometimes kisses my mommy too much but who is my hero."Jack blinked, shocked. Sara put a hand on his leg and he turned to see her green eyes full of tears. "Suck up," Brandis' friend Gabe muttered. Brandis bumped his friend's shoulder hard enough to make both of their milks spill a bit onto the table. "Maybe," Brandis admitted, ducking his head a minute in what Jack knew was embarrassment."Son, may you find a woman as special as your mother, so you want to kiss her all the time too.""I'll drink to that," his friend Evan Adams, host of this year's dinner called from the far end of the large table.
Sara dozed off and on the morning after Thanksgiving, glad she'd taken the time to get their bags packed already so she could enjoy a few quiet moments alone. The sounds of her family drifted down the hall from the kitchen, making her smile as she rolled onto her stomach and found the cool underside of the pillow. It had been one of their slightly less stressful group meals, thank the Lord. She wasn't sure she could have taken it otherwise. She forced thoughts of all the stress Jack had induced into their lives with his "we should just buy Stewarts, you know," seemingly innocuous comments the past few weeks out of her brain, unwilling to contemplate it lest she get so pissed off she canceled their much-needed weekend away from the kids.A sudden louder outburst from Bethany, her youngest made her frown but she ignored it, figuring Jack could -- and should-- handle it for now. Footsteps pounded down the hardwood floored hall. A door slammed. A young girl screeched something that sounded an awful lot like "I hate you!" She smiled. Par for the Gordon household. Things would calm eventually. They usually did.But when her bedroom door flew open and whammed against the wall behind it, she cursed, and sat up, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her oldest daughter, Katie, a near mirror image of herself since she'd rounded the corner of sixteen headed towards thirty stood there. Her green eyes snapped with anxiety, putting Sara immediately on edge."What's wrong? What did Dad do?"Katie bit her lip and took a seat in one of the large leather chairs near the big window. "Nothing," she said."Baloney," Sara said, stumbling to the bathroom and brushing her teeth, her heart pounding. Leave it to the Gordon spawn to foment drama right before the parental units escaped for a few precious hours of alone time.She splashed water on her face and glared at herself a few minutes, taking in the lines around her mouth and eyes, the way her jaw seemed to sag in a way that made her a little sad. "Sara," her husband's voice jarred her out of her self-study. "Can you come out here a minute, please?"His calm, super polite tone told her all she needed to know.It was bad."Our daughter," he intoned, putting a hand on Katie's shoulder and making the girl's frown deepen. "Has informed me, her father, that she, the sixteen-year-old would like for us to obtain a prescription. For birth control. For her. Immediately."Sara sighed and slumped against the door jamb of the ensuite bath, observing them--her beloved, frustrating, handsome, aggravating husband, and the daughter who made her realize that she could never live without him. "Yes, well. All right honey. Um, we just need to get an appointment with the doctor is all." She was bound and determined to make this a non-event."Sara," Jack said, his voice tight in a way she had not heard in a long time. "I'm not sure that you are understanding what she's saying to us, exactly."Sara burst out laughing, despite her efforts not to. "Yes, actually, I do. Listen, Katie, let's just call the pediatrician. That's where you go first and as long as there are no issues--""God damn it," Jack burst out, as he started pacing the bedroom, running his fingers through his hair. "This is...I can't...I mean...shit." Katie stood up and slid her arm into his elbow, ever the peacemaker, that girl. "Daddy, it's okay. It's...the right thing, responsible, you know?""Oh dear Jesus," he said, slumping into one of the chairs and putting his head in his hands. "Can't we just be that family where you and your mom handle it, I find out by accident, get mad, then get over it? I mean, I don't want to have this conversation--the one where I know you're letting...that punk kid....oh, just....never mind."Sara put her hand on his tee shirt clad shoulder, sliding it around to the back of his neck and feeling him calm ever so slightly under her palm. She leaned into his ear. "Because we aren't that family, Jack. And it's all right.""No, it's not. I don't want to know." He leapt up and stomped down the hall.Sara shrugged and held out her arms, hanging onto Katie for a bit and kissing her hair, wondering where all the years had gone. "Don't worry. I'll calm him down. It's why we go away sometimes you know. To regain our equilibrium.""Ew, mom, please. No details." Katie grinned up at her, making Sara's heart clench at the concept of the many years ahead--the boyfriends, the fiances, the weddings, the grand kids. She took a deep breath. "You're in charge of getting the other two over to your Aunt Mo's," Sara said, already letting herself slip into a different mode--a much more fun one, and one she'd missed, sorely for the past few months of craziness."Got it. And thanks Mom. I love ya," Katie said, before she dashed down the hall, calling for Brandis to get his bag packed and for Bethany to stop whining and get the Barbies together she wanted. Sara dropped into the chair Jack had vacated, tired in a way she didn't understand. *************
The trip up to Boyne was quiet. Sara figured she'd let Jack work through whatever his issues were internally and then listen when he wanted to talk. Or whatever.She shifted in her seat, turning off her e-reader, hoping for the "whatever" bit--a lot of it. She stared out the window, watching the snow fall, feeling warm, safe, and happy. Jack managed the heavy vehicle in his usual confident way but his face stayed pensive.They pulled up to their mountain condo complex, one of the older ones, but one they'd really gotten a great deal on and updated through the years. It was part of a larger resort, one that now boasted a full on spa that she had every intention of taking advantage of. They unloaded in more silence, flipped on the heat and Jack started a fire in the huge, stone hearth while she uncorked wine and set out some cheese and other random snacks. His continued quiet was starting to unnerve her, truth be told.She put everything on the large, low table between couch and fireplace. "I'm going to shower," she said. He sat, staring into the flames. She waited. He didn't speak so she threw up her hands and headed to the back of the condo, wondering how she might put this weekend back on its tracks."Honey," she said, making her way down the hall. "Snap out of it."He grunted or made some kind of similar response. Sara tried not to react negatively and continued, shedding clothing as she went, knowing he sensed it when she was horny. Because that is one thing she was--fully turned on and wanting her man to rise to the occasion. God, they so rarely got away these days....


Sara heaved her suitcase up onto the large leather ottoman and unzipped, determined to remain calm and not feed into her husband's ever increasing anger. It may have taken her the better part of seventeen years but one thing she'd learned was to feed that particular fire with her own, knee-jerk, more natural defensiveness reaction did exactly nothing to help. She had to give Jack space, a bit of time, and quiet so he could process and get over whatever it was that bugged him. Once he calmed, they could almost always talk and come to consensus or at least agree to disagree.Of course, that hadn't worked quite as well recently. This whole "hey honey let's buy a real estate brokerage and run it the way we want" thing had put a serious kink in their usual marital coping mechanism.She closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, then opened them and kept digging through her messily packed stuff to find what she wanted. She bluetooth hooked her phone to the beside wireless speaker that was connected to the rest of the speakers tucked into the walls of the condo including in the big bathroom where she headed next. She called up her favorite mix of music, a combination of Muse, Sheryl Crow, Foo Fighters, Aretha Franklin and more like those, tossed her bra and panties into the empty laundry basket in the closet and turned on the shower full blast. Thanks to the instant hot water system Jack had installed when they renovated this place a few years ago, the glass walls of the shower steamed up immediately. Still glancing over her shoulder, convinced Jack would show at any moment, she lit the candles lining the large tub, cranked the tunes and stepped under the strong stream of water.Shampoo and lightly fragrant soaping accomplished, she waited a bit longer, wiping the condensation off the shower door. When it became clear the man was going to stay scarce a bit longer, she cursed, and got out, wrapping up in a towel already warmed from the rack which triggered on whenever someone turned on the shower. She took a step toward the door, stopped and reminded herself that if Jack were this pissed off she'd best just leave him alone. Sighing at her daughter's shitty timing to drop the little "Oh I'm sexually active" bomb on her father's head, she turned on the taps and sat, watching the tub fill, mesmerized by it, wishing she could come up with something that might salvage these precious two days away from their family's BS.The snow kept falling outside the large picture window in the corner of the bathroom, making her think she'd suggest they ski first thing in the morning. Sometimes, he needed something even more physical than a roll in the hay to get past it. After a few minutes, she could hear his low, rumbling voice, a chuckle, and more one-sided conversation. Figuring he was having yet another conversation with his banker over the machinations they were having to go through to make the brokerage purchase work, she slipped into the hot water with a sigh, grabbing a lavender scented cloth and dropping over her eyes. She floated in and around her many memories of this place, of her husband, focusing in for some reason on their very first encounter in the darkened hall of the downtown Stewart Realty office. She'd been so very naive, thinking she could shield herself from the force of Jack Gordon's personality. She had, for a while, to her detriment, she now knew but he had been no better. That is one topic they had talked about, quite a bit, since coming to terms with how they really felt about each other...thanks in no small part to their daughter.She slipped a bit lower, grateful she'd let Jack manage this renovation since she'd been busy with the baby Brandis at the time. He'd picked everything she liked, set the damn place up from kitchen to bath to her exact specifications without even consulting her. The tub was huge, long enough to accommodate his legs, deep enough to let her submerge, big enough to fit them both, should they want--and they had, several times.The memory of their very first kiss hit her, making her smile into the darkened room. She repositioned the eye cover after dunking it in the hot water and let herself have it--the memory of his lips that she'd obsessed about for so many months before that finally--finally--covering hers. He'd been a little hesitant at first which had shocked her but the second she'd responded he'd gotten right past that, and she'd been lost, for all intents and purposes forever to the man.She let her fingers trail across her hardening nipples as the the memory progressed, following them into the hall, up against the wall, the way he'd kissed her, held her, used those talented fingers on her...Her body reacted now to it, making her hips move a little and disturbing the surface of the water.His voice had been low, rough with lust, his touch sure and confident. She had let him do whatever he wanted, and he had, getting her more or less totally naked in the hall of her damn office while he remained dressed, mostly, until he'd done what she told him to--to fuck her--those words had come right out of her mouth, she knew it. Because she'd wanted it so badly she had been on the verge of tears. His cock had taken it from there, really, her first experience of it--once he'd used his fingers first, spreading her with a warning "got to do this baby, trust me." He had filled her, completely, utterly, and in ways she didn't even understand until years later.She kept tugging at her nipples, breathing heavy now, conjuring that moment, that split second of their very first connection. She let one hand trail lower and rubbed, fast, faster, splashing water out onto the floor but not caring as she dove into her memory of the man she adored--had adored from that moment. It hovered, the quickie orgasm, right out of her reach. She wasn't the best at self stimulation, mainly because she didn't have to be. Jack's sexual needs met hers nearly perfectly. They were a match that way to be certain. But right now...she kept rubbing, tugging, her hips moving, the eye cover slipped into the water and she stared up at the dark wood ceiling and let it take her with a little burst of energy and a light squeak that escaped her lips before she could stop it.The water calmed. She put her shaking arms on the sides of the tub, noting she'd managed to put out two of the candles from all her thrashing around. "Now that," a deep, familiar voice intoned, "was the hottest damn thing I've seen in a while."She smiled, and sat up, held out her hand and let Jack pull her from the water in the dim room lit only from the three remaining candles and the natural glow of the snow outside the giant window. He picked her up without a word, and flung her, still dripping wet and now shivering, onto the thick duvet covering the bed. Then he stood, staring at her, his blue eyes gone midnight dark. She propped on her elbows, trying to catch a sense of where he was, of what he wanted. "Get naked, husband," she whispered. "Now, please?"He grinned, shook his head and walked to his suitcase, which she knew without even looking into it would be packed with military precision and neatness. She heard it before she saw it and her entire body went on high alert. Metal clinking, and the strike and sizzle of a match sent her well-trained brain into near immediate shut down. She hadn't been in her own head space for so damn long....she sighed and flopped back, holding her arms over her head and felt the ice cold metal cuffs close over her wrists.Staying silent, she let him slip the silk over her eyes, then he disappeared...for a while....letting her have it--the exquisite, erotic, orgasm inducing raw anticipation of the coming session."Sara," he whispered after a while--how long she had no idea but knowing she was so revved and ready for him she'd have a difficult time not begging and making him disappear once more to punish her. "Sara," he kept saying, using her name like a prayer of reverence as he let minuscule drips of candle wax hit her stomach with a sting, getting ever nearer her pussy with it, making her hips move. "Sara," he said once more, his voice getting husky the way she loved. His lips found her neck, nibbling, biting a little, making her whimper and tug against the metal cuffs. He rolled her over then, gently, lifting her hips up and running his large, warm palm across her ass, just stroking her, and whispering her name. She sensed him near, could taste his lust as if he'd just given her a cupful of it to drink. So she stayed still, let him do what he wanted, pressing his large, warm dick into the cleft of her ass. When the open palm smack hit her, she came, loud, unable to stop, crying out for him as the cool, sweet subspace welcomed her once more.He smacked her once more, then draped down over her back, biting down on her shoulder and sliding into her slowly, then retreating, making her moan in frustration as her body kept quivering post non-contact orgasm. "Tell me," he said, close to her ear. "Tell me what you want."The ghost echo of that first time, suffusing the perfection of her subspace, made her want to cry. It was as if he was reliving it too just as she had been doing, alone, mad at him, wondering when he'd stop pouting or whatever he was doing. "Fuck me, Jack. Do it now." Her voice was loud, firm, even though it felt like it came from a million miles away to her own fuzzy brain. He pushed her over to her side, reached up to release the cuffs and parted her legs, doing just what she asked with a grunt and a sigh. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, meeting his every single thrust and kissing him until he tensed up, as he always did right before..."Ahhhh god! Sara!" he cried out, holding her ever closer. She buried her nose in his neck, crying without realizing it.Later, she lay on his chest, trailing her fingers down his bare skin as he slept lightly. She studied his profile, the light gray in his three-day stubble, the strong angle of his jaw, replaying his earlier plea of "can't we be that family?" and trying not to giggle. "I can't wait to get old with you," he said, surprising her."Thought you were sleeping off that amazing orgasm," she said, propping on her elbow.He turned his head and smiled, making her heart do a little pattering thing in her chest. "I don't want to get old." She ran her hand down his rough jaw. He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and tucked it under the sheet covering his lower half."Me neither. But since we have no say over that, let's just look forward to it together? Kids gone, grandkids to spoil, money to spend."She grinned and gripped his revived erection, leaning in to whisper in his ear as she stroked him. "Vitamin C working, my love?""Forgot it," he declared closing his eyes. "It's all you, wife. All you...oh....yeah..."She climbed on top of him and took him, wincing a little but loving every inch of him inside her. "Liar," she whispered, moving her hips fast, faster...and grinning down as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, you get the benefit, so...oh...uh huh...now...take what you want, Mrs. G....It's all...yours...all weekend long."

Book Feature: The Vineyard by Michael Hurley

The Vineyardby Michael Hurley
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:

Ten years after college, three very different women reunite for a summer on Martha’s Vineyard. As they come to grips with various challenges in their lives, an encounter with a reclusive fisherman threatens to change everything they believe about their world—and each other.







Excerpt:
Chapter 10
Despite the tumultuous beginning of the season and the clouds in Dory’s future, June in Edgartown was as bright as ever, and the three friends took advantage of every minute of it. There were walks down Main Street on sunny afternoons carrying giant, round mounds of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, teetering three-high and dribbling down onto sticky fingers before it was licked gone. There were steamed little neck clams with butter sauce and fresh horseradish, served with gin and tonics on the porch of The Crew House, overlooking the harbor, and the good-looking, Italian waiter who worked there. It became Turner’s mission to see how many times she could get him to use the word “Tanqueray” in a sentence, because she liked the way he said it. There were lazy hours lying on the beach by the lighthouse and meandering hunts for the perfect cockleshell, and double-dog dares to go skinny-dipping after dark that always descended into fully-clothed refusals, recriminations, and false accusations of prudery—the truth, however, being that none of them was eager to expose great white bellies bursting with clams and Tanqueray and mint-chocolate-chip ice cream.
© 2014 by M. C. Hurley. All rights reserved.




• One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Enter here:  http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f404



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Michael Hurley and his wife Susan live near Charleston, South Carolina. Born and raised in Baltimore, Michael holds a degree in English from the University of Maryland and law from St. Louis University.
The Prodigal, Michael’s debut novel from Ragbagger Press, received the Somerset Prize for mainstream fiction and numerous accolades in the trade press, including Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, ForeWord Reviews, BookTrib, Chanticleer Reviews, and IndieReader. It is currently in development for a feature film by producer Diane Sillan Isaacs. Michael’s second novel, The Vineyard, is due to be released by Ragbagger Press in December 2014.
Michael’s first book, Letters from the Woods, is a collection of wilderness-themed essays published by Ragbagger Press in 2005.  It was shortlisted for Book of the Year by ForeWord magazine.  In 2009, Michael embarked on a two-year, 2,200 mile solo sailing voyage that ended with the loss of his 32-foot sloop, the Gypsy Moon, in the Windward Passage between Cuba and Haiti in 2012. That voyage and the experiences that inspired him to set sail became the subject of his memoir, Once Upon A Gypsy Moon, published in 2013 by Hachette Book Group.
When he is not writing, Michael enjoys reading and relaxing with Susan on the porch of their rambling, one-hundred-year-old house.  His fondest pastimes are ocean sailing, playing piano and classical guitar, cooking, and keeping up with an energetic Irish terrier, Frodo Baggins.
Website: www.mchurley.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/mchurleybooks

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5445584.Michael_C_Hurley

This Book Bundle is a Real Shut Out!

I've had another book included in one of the lovely "Gemstone Collections" from the What To Read After 50 Shades of Gray folks. WTRAFSOG Gemstone Collection Number 8 to be exact!



Check it out!

Dane Coulter is mourning the loss of his best friend, fellow Special Ops buddy, Cody. Oh, Cody didn’t die. It’s worse. He’s getting married. Cody is, in Dane’s opinion, whipped. Dane swears he will never suffer the same fate.  Whipped by Sabrina York 

Emily arrives at Westbury Hall to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressive library. Not long into her stay at the house, she bumps into the night guard, George. She’d expected an old, balding guy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasant surprise.  Timeless Desire by Lucy Felthouse 

A submissive once, a submissive forever? Two people, horribly scarred by the excesses of the BDSM lifestyle and hiding from their true selves, meet across a desk over a simple contract. All bets are off.  Shut Out by Liz Crowe 
The exotic dancers and employees of the Queen of Clubs walk a fine line, with only wits, beauty, and market savvy to keep them from toppling into the shark pit. Ride shotgun through lapdances, romance, and sexual awakenings. Don't worry, these girls won't ask what your hands are doing under the tip rail.  Queen of Clubs: Malia by Katie de Long 

Billionaire oil heiress Elle Anderton is desperate to protect her heart—and her trust fund. Darren Phillips is equally desperate to prove that his love for her is real. In Kiki Wellington's Unusual, their love tests turn kinky and take them both to sexual places they’ve never gone before. 

Caris just wants to get her daughter back when she starts working as the nanny. She doesn’t expect to fall in love with Dom, the brother of the man who stole her baby and will stop at nothing to hurt her.  Undercover Mother by Kit Tunstall 

Harshly dumped by her fiancé, and spending her Caribbean honeymoon alone, Laurie decides to chill out and make the best of things. Sex and romance are all around her and soon she's not only watching other lovers at play, she's sharing sensual pleasure with not one man, but two. At the same time!  Power of Three by Portia Da Costa 

She has a proposition…to win their attention, passion, hearts. For over a year, Mercy’s had her eye on Travis and Dutch, two of the hottest guys on the Oregon coast. Dark and dangerously virile, Travis owns a saloon that caters to bikers. Dutch looks like one, right down to his impressive tats, and operates a motorcycle repair shop on the premises.  Make Me Surrender by Tina Donahue 

One woman’s journey into the contemporary kink underworld, Perilous Play is an explosive personal account of Suz de Mello's experiences with BDSM. Engaging and honest, this groundbreaking memoir will grab you and never let you go. 

Shunned by her family back home, Kelly Cavenaugh follows her best friend to New York with aspirations to start over. Kelly may be a lot of things: intelligent, sexy, vivacious, and a great friend, but the one thing she’s determined to prove to herself and others is that she’s not promiscuous. So why do a spoiled rich boy with a dark past and a former Marine with a high-powered job have to come along and try to break her resolve?  Kelly's Quest by Jennifer Ann 

Join Summer on her journey of sexual self-discovery; a well written, intelligent and sexy series about the beginning of her sensual, sultry love affair with life, and all the joys of being a woman.  Summer's Journey by WTRAFSOG founder Summer Daniels 


Buy Your Copy here:

Kindle US - http://amzn.to/1BS3Q3L

Kindle UK - http://amzn.to/1zHXlM5

iTunes - http://bit.ly/1zHXjnr

Nook - http://bit.ly/1BS3Q3N
Kobo - http://bit.ly/1yvWnBC
We are hosting a little par-tay tomorrow on Facebook. I'll be hosting a couple of times, once at 10 a.m. for an hour and again 7-9 p.m. (that's Monday, 11/24).
I am known to be pretty dang generous at these events. Be sure and join here:https://www.facebook.com/events/1540856369465665/

Saving Jason by E.J. Hanagan

Today I welcome author E.J. Hanagan to the Books, Beer & More Blog to talk about her new release: Saving Jason.... Be sure and read all the way through to learn more about this compelling-sounding novel. There is a link to a rafflecopter contest at the end. The author is giving away a $50 Starbucks Card to one randomly selected winner!



My debut novel, Saving Jason, depicts the strain that PTSD can cause on a family and relationships.  Jason Barnes, the main character, is a combat veteran who suffers from severe PTSD. The story is told from two different perspectives-one is his current girlfriend and the other is his ex-wife.  While Jason appears to be a free spirit with an upbeat personality, the reader gains insight to the anguish that silently haunts him.  As the story unfolds, Jason’s secrets surface and you learn that there are always different sides to a story and it takes every character in the novel to ultimately save Jason. 
Having been in the military myself, I’ve had several friends experience the harsh realities of war and I’ve witnessed firsthand what it can do to a person.  Those in combat forces are trained to be strong and always put on a brave face.  They signed up to not only defend their country but also their fellow soldiers.   Oftentimes even those with severe PTSD won’t admit their pain because that means that they will be taken off of a battlefield that they have built bonds on.  In some sense, the combat itself is the easy part for them, but when they come home, it’s another story.  They are thrown into a world of normalcy but their minds are still trying to dig through the turmoil of what they experienced in combat.  An example of this is the 4th of July.  While the rest of the country celebrates the 4th of July with fireworks and some delicious beer, these vets go into hiding as the sound of the blasts in the sky take them right back to the front line.  While there are a lot of great organizations out there backing up PTSD education, it still somehow falls under the radar more than it should. 

While this is fiction, Jason’s character is based on a close friend of mine. While PTSD has been the result of several wars, and has affected far too many soldiers, it has slipped under the radar because the world has yet to have a firsthand glimpse into how it alters families and relationships.  My hope is that Saving Jason will contribute to helping educate the world on this hot topic.







Jason Barnes is a free spirit. Underneath that fun-loving surface lurks a severe case of PTSD, his personal souvenir from the war on terror. After his young marriage breaks up, he bounces from girlfriend to girlfriend, never allowing himself to get too close, all while maintaining a friendship with his ex-wife, Samantha Colton.
Everything changes when he meets Abby Jacobsen, a smart and sassy artist – but with love comes jealousy, and Abby doesn’t stand for Jason’s cozy friendship with Samantha. Two hours after a heated argument causes Jason to storm out of their apartment, Abby receives a phone call from the intensive care unit of a New Hampshire hospital. The hospital walls close in on Abby and Samantha as they are forced to make tough decisions while trying hard not to kill each other. The two form a rare bond when Emma Jane, Jason’s mom, arrives on the scene. Three weeks after Jason’s accident, Abby is left alone and hovering over a handful of positive pregnancy tests. During her pregnancy, Abby works with Samantha to dig up clues of Jason’s past. As the truth is discovered, their worlds are irreversibly changed.
An emotionally-moving look at PTSD and the intersection of three lives, Saving Jason is a riveting glimpse into unexpected friendships and the ripples we leave without our knowledge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
It seldom rains in southern California, which is why the balmy, wet air had struck me that day as a sign that something was about to go terribly wrong. I wound and dipped along the winding road of Camp Pendleton, taking the turns more slowly than ever before. Although I had driven this route a thousand times in the past two years, I felt the need to go more slowly, to prolong saying goodbye to Jason. As soon as I pulled into the entrance labeled “Location of Departure,” a million emotions invaded me all at once, and the tears began to trickle, ever so gently down my cheeks.
“Alright, this is it.” Jason, far too happy to be going off to war, said as he leaned in for one sweet, subtle goodbye kiss. Opening the back door of our tiny VW Golf, Jason retrieved his pack and hauled it on his back effortlessly as I met him on the passenger side of the car. I remember the sound of the wet, rocky dirt crunching beneath my feet. Knowing Jason all too well, I tried to avoid a sappy emotional goodbye scene. Instead, I gathered a last bit of strength and wrapped my arms around him. Burying my face in his freshly issued desert camouflage uniform, I allowed a few tears to slip out, leaving them behind on his collar as if to send him off with a piece of me.
“I love you. I'll be fine. Remember, this is what I was trained to do. This is what I signed up for.” He enveloped my face in his strong, callused hands.
"Just don't die, okay? Promise me that. Promise me."

"I promise you. I love you always.” I love you always: the four words we so conveniently passed back and forth since we first started dating. The four words that served as a goodbye on all phone calls and somehow managed to cure all our disagreements
About the author:
EJ Hanagan is a fitness fanatic, obsessive reader and animal lover. She currently lives in a sleepy little beach town just outside of Boston with her husband, their new aughter, and the family’s two giant Newfoundland dogs. After spending four years in the Air Force, she put her fire for fitness to good use and worked as a personal trainer while attending college. EJ credits the amazing, brave people she met in the military for giving her the passion and focus to raise awareness for veterans with PTSD. Her hope is to bring the invisible scars of war to the surface through her writing and community involvement.
You can learn more about EJ, her books, and her charity work at www.ejhanagan.com.
Connect with EJ online
Twitter: https://twitter.com/EJHanaganFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/EJHanaganbooks
 Buy your copy of Saving Jason:http://www.amazon.com/Saving-Jason-E-J-Hanagan/dp/1620155125


Now, let's win something,shall we? Click here to go to the Rafflecopter contest page! 

Dead On Her Feet by Lisa Fernow

Guest Post:I had no idea that there was a blog like this – beer and books – how cool.  Although I personally find it difficult to hold a beer and turn the pages of a book at the same time, I love the concept! 
Dead on Her Feet is a tango mystery, and I am a real tango dancer.  Not the kind you see on film or stage, but a social dancer.  I have trained with some of the best maestros in the world, and danced in Buenos Aires. 
So the first thing I need to confess straight up is that you are not really supposed to mix alcohol and tango.  One glass is nice.  Any more sends me off my balance. Personally, when I do drink beer, I go for the IPA’s.
That said, my characters love to drink, some of them to excess I am sorry to say, and several of them prefer beer.  One of my favorite characters, Professor Bobby Glass, spent time in the UK and likes Irish lagers for their bracing hop flavor.  And Detective Sam Morrow likes to relax with a cold one when he’s thinking about the case.
But I realize I have not assigned him a specific beer.  And so I want to ask for your help.  If I tell you a little about Morrow, will you suggest beers that would suit his personality?  Liz: Well, "hoppy lagers" are are a pretty new thing these days. Irish (and Scottish) lagers traditionally are maltier than American style ones. But in these days of "crafting" beers, more and more cross-breeding (or cross-genre-ing if you will) is going on so sure... go for it!
Sam Morrow is a former marine turned homicide detective.  He is called in to investigate the murder of a much-hated member of the Atlanta tango community who has been stabbed in the middle of a dance, and he needs someone who knows tango to help him work out how someone could have struck the fatal blow unseen.  Unfortunately for him, he’s up against tango instructor Antonia “Ant” Blakeley, the story’s main character, whose troubled nephew is first on the list of suspects.  The last thing she wants to do is help him.
Only one of them will get what they want.
Morrow is as tenacious as they come, very patient, very good at his job, and not above trying an unorthodox tactic to get results.  If I were to cast him in a movie he might be played by Ed Harris.  He grew up in Maryland, in tobacco country.  His taste in food is straight-up meat and potatoes.
What should his beer of choice be, and why?  I’m writing the sequel to Dead on Her Feet now which will be set in Seattle, and this is the perfect time to give him a great beer.  Help me out!
Liz: Easy. I'd have Mr. Morrow be a big fan of stout beers--rich, full-flavored, malty with hints of roastiness and sometimes even chocolate (but that's the malt used not actual added chocolate). I'd even look into finding him a "favorite Imperial Stout" which implies a higher alcohol content. I'll bet he can hold his booze.  Depending on where he lives I could give you some actual suggestions if you like! cheers!
Intermission:  Miguel Calo’s Que Falta Me Haces – watch Geraldine Rojas and Javier Rodrigues dance to one of the tangos featured in Dead on Her Feet.  This tango is the real deal.
Thanks so much for having me!
P.S.  Since you guys like sharing book recommendations, I also wanted to mention some fun books that would go well with beer – 13 of my favorite Female Sleuths Behaving Badly – if you sign up for my email list on www.lisafernow.com you can access a free download of the PDF! 

Dead on Her Feetby Lisa Fernow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
What happens when a dancer violates the tango code?
Tango instructor and chronic rule-breaker Antonia “Ant” Blakeley has no respect for authority. So when a much-hated member of the Atlanta tango community is stabbed in the middle of the dance floor, leaving her troubled nephew Christian first on the list of suspects, the last thing she wants to do is use her tango expertise to help the police work out how someone could have struck the fatal blow, unseen. As someone who has experienced police incompetence first hand Antonia doesn’t trust them to find the real killer. So she lies to give Christian an alibi, and the coverup begins.


Unfortunately for Ant, former marine Detective Sam Morrow is on the case and he will do whatever it takes to solve the crime. He’s not about to let Antonia hijack his case. As both Ant and Sam investigate (or in Ant’s case, interfere), the two sleuths are about to find out the more antagonistic meaning of “it takes two to tango.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area, Atlanta
THE ELEGANTLY SUITED ANTIQUES DEALER stood on a slab of bedrock jutting out into the Chattahoochee River and gazed out at Devil’s Race Course Shoals. The water level had been unseasonably low that July so he had been able to walk out practically into the middle of the channel without wetting his dress shoes.
In a few minutes the sun would set and the park would officially close. The water enthusiasts would pull their rafts from the rapids and the hikers would turn back on their trails to return to their cars and eventually, reluctantly, to civilization. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Getting out into nature, far removed from his normal milieu, normally helped him to clear his mind but the Argentina business was different. Shameful. What should he do? Calling in the police was out of the question. He tried to play out the alternatives, weighing the consequences of each.
The thunder grew louder.
He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and dialed a number he knew better than to call but the unaccustomed wine he’d drunk at dinner overrode his better judgment. The phone rang five times. Finally a message came on instructing him to leave his name.
He said, “I need to talk to you. It’s important. Pick up. Pick up.”

He rambled into the phone at length as darkness fell, failing to notice that the river had begun to rise.

About the Author:Lisa Fernow grew up on the classic mysteries of Ngaio Marsh and Elizabeth Peters. Lisa has danced Argentine tango since 1996, studying with such legendary masters as Cacho Dante, Susana Miller, and Brigitta Winkler, as well as other inspiring instructors in Atlanta, Seattle, and Portland. Lisa’s short story,Death of a Tango Dancer was featured in King County Library’s Take Time to Read program. She lives in Seattle, Washington. Dead on Her Feet is the first book in a planned series set in the tango world. Read more at www.lisafernow.com.
Author Links:
Website:  www.lisafernow.com
Blog: http://lisafernow.com/about/lisas-blog/
LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/lisafernow/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lisafernowtangomysteries?ref_type=bookmark
Twitter:  @lisafernow
Pinterest:  http://www.pinterest.com/lisafernow/
Book Links:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1okdIeu
Goodreads:  http://bit.ly/1kLdhdq
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1pZeD0p

Click Here And Enter to WIN a $30 GC to winner's choice of online bookseller!

I'm Tipping a Honey Red This Week....

To honor those who've served our country I want to draw your attention to a slashed priced for a book of mine that features a wounded vet....
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I have 5 (five) copies I'm willing to gift to the first 5 commenters here BUT note that the book is only .99 on retail sites and will remain marked down through the week!

All Romance ebooks
Smashwords
B&N
Amazon

The cover was specifically designed by an artist to resemble a beer bottle label...on purpose. Read the book to see why!


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?


And an R for content/language Excerpt: 
The dream was back. Nick knew it. Yet he was, as always, unable to stop it. He flinched, inhabiting that in-between state of sleep and wake, of before and after, of a whole Nick and a fractured one. The dream kept coming. Yelling…fire…sand…pain. Over and over again. He heard it a split second after he spotted the seemingly innocuous wire on the side of the road. He started to speak, to warn the driver then…yelling…fire…sand… pain became his entire universe. He opened his eyes expecting the bright, hot, blue sky. And saw nothing. He thrashed around, tried to find his weapon, remembered Dan was in the Humvee behind him and panicked all over again. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and…shit…he couldn’t see. And his right leg was a flaming ball of agony. His ears rang, but he kept hearing the screams of men and women all around him. With a huge effort, he finally pulled loose from the safety harness and fell over onto all fours, trying to make his eyes and ears function. He felt around on the floor of the truck and connected with what felt like a man’s boot. As he felt his way up, he made contact with the bloodied flesh of the man’s leg, and he soon realized the limb was definitely not attached to anything else. He yanked his hand away, and brought it to his face. The sickening coppery smell of blood made him gag. He sat, blinking, but his eyes burned and watered so he shut them and kept crawling, trying to find the source of all the yelling. Dan. He had to find Dan. As he called out, picturing the younger man’s handsome face he put his hand out to thin air, and tumbled down to the sand. Yelling and cursing as his knee connected with something sharp sending a fresh bolt of pain up his spine, he froze when he heard it. “Nick!” 
He rolled over onto his side, felt around, keeping his eyes clenched shut to spare the agony of trying to force them to work, and attempted to stand. The horrific stench of burning flesh suffocated him. He held out a hand again, hoping to find something to grab onto to guide him back to the truck Dan had been in. “Nick!” the voice was hoarse, weak, but he recognized it. He and Chief Warrant Officer Daniel Anderson had been together for nearly two years. Dan was from Ohio, career military, and a computer super geek, like Nick. They were both high up on the “need to know” list and were able to manipulate more information between them than was probably healthy and led the small, secretive counter intelligence effort in this particular corner of hell. Nick was due to rotate back to the states in two weeks, and Dan was going to join him when he finished his tour a year later. Nick was as close to being in love as he would allow himself to admit with the tall, dark and handsome fellow Marine. The sound of Dan’s voice fading to his left in the chaos was freaking him the fuck out. That, and the fact he still could not see no matter how much he rubbed his eyes. His nasal passages and throat burned, but he ignored it all and dropped back to all fours, muscling through the agonizing pain in his knees and hips and half-crawled, half-dragged towards the sound. “Nick,” Dan coughed, just as Nick put a hand on what he hoped like hell was Dan’s arm, still connected to his torso. The yelling had mostly stopped, leaving in its wake a terrifying silence punctuated by the snap and crackle of flames and the yammering of a radio somewhere to his right. “Nick,” Dan croaked out, “I’m…shit….” He made a terrifying noise somewhere between a sob and a moan of pain. Nick dragged him up, held him close. “Shh, I’ve got it. Help me find the com. I can’t fucking see anything.” Dan groaned. The metallic odor of blood filled Nick’s nose again, making him want to puke. His hand found Dan’s, and he tried to remain calm, to remember his years of training. “Your face…” Dan whispered. “I know how good looking I am. Now help me find the com.” Nick grunted in pain when he started to stand again, his leg singing out a clear tune of torment. He shook, called on his inner reserve of Marine-instilled calm, took a breath, and let Dan grab his arm. If only he could just see. 

Plus one more excerpt 'cause I want you to want this book!
Rated NC17 (this is a "menage love story" ya know)....
Hannah stared around at the happy group at the reception. Beer rock stars abounded, as befitted the celebration of the nuptials of two of their own. The tables were gorgeously simple, with cream-colored tablecloths, red roses in the center and rich white china and crystal at every place. But as if in a nose-thumb to convention, the food was a mash up of “gourmet” and “beer snacks” which made for an incredible combination of giant pretzels with beer cheese made from the Ypsi Brewing India Pale Ale, to “burgers” that were actually sliders of lamb with rich blue cheese on top. It was classy to a fault, but over the top, including the five medium sized ice sculptures of beer steins that graced the giant buffet. She sat back, sipping her beer and watching the party unfold. She should so not have come here, especially not with a Donovan brother. Jesus. She closed her eyes a split second, relishing the way she felt—sated, enervated and tingly with anticipation all at once. She and Ian had been fucking around nearly daily, unable to keep hands off each other, and her body was beginning to adapt, and want more which Ian was eager to accommodate probably more than was strictly necessary. The words “just this once more” had become a sort of code for “come over here and fuck me.” Which he had, in his office, between fermenters, at his house and once, memorably, in her own office while she was trying to conduct a conference call with her on-the-road sales staff. She sighed, sipped some more and caught Jamie as he barreled by already high on an unlimited supply of cola and cake. “Hey, mister, come sit with me.” She loved this kid there was no doubt about that. His endless supply of positive energy was contagious. She knew Ian stressed over his parenting skills, but she had reassured him more than once that such a happy, comfortable in his own skin little boy did not occur by accident. “Hannah, lemme go. I want to see the dog.” He squirmed out of her grasp. “No, Jamie, don’t bother him….” she startled when a warm, wet, distinctly canine nose shoved her arm hard. “Hey,” she said, smiling and scratching the dog between the ears. She looked up, letting her gaze take in the full Marine dress uniform of the man attached to the animal. The crisp, formal clothes seemed to hang on him even though he was fit. It was obvious at one time he had been even bigger. His classical, masculine V-shape was breathtaking. His shoulders were broad but not bulky, his jaw firm, clean and the rest of his face at that moment showed stress that marred it. His golden yellow hair was thick, and touched the collar of the uniform jacket. She bit her lip and dispelled the sudden erotic loop of imagery—Ian and this man, together. “Hi,” she said, holding out a hand. “I’m Hannah.” His face turned to hers, and his smile was so incredibly sexy and innocent at the same time her heart started hammering in her chest. He held onto her a few seconds longer than was polite. She tugged but he wouldn’t let her go. “I hear your heart,” he said, quietly.  “Oh, wow, that’s…um, cool.” She had no idea what to do with her arms, hands, or heartbeat. Jamie was all over the dog, and Brutus was panting and wagging his tail like mad. The party flowed around them, getting louder by the minute. Suddenly, Hannah wanted to be alone or more precisely she wanted to be alone with the man in front of her. He wore his emotional pain like a medal on his uniform. And something about him compelled her to want to help—or possibly it was because Ian still loved him. Wow. This could get messy. She squared her shoulder and decided to stick with what usually worked best for—brutally direct. “You must be Nick.” His grin faded slightly. “Yeah, I guess I am the only blind ex-Marine with a dog date here, huh?” She leaned into him, determined to keep to the path of directness. “It’s okay. I know about you and Ian” He stiffened. “Really. Well, tell me something then, Hannah.” He put his lips near her ear. The overwhelming compulsion to put her hands on him made her knees wobbly. She gripped the chair back. The party noises kept ramping up. But she barely heard them, too mesmerized by Nick’s face, voice, and the warm hand in the small of her back. “Tell me what you think you know about me. And Ian.” His lips tickled, making her break out in goose bumps. She turned her head, saw Ian, caught his eye. And it gave her strength. “I know he loves you.” She said, then took Jamie’s hand and was about to lead him away before she said or did anything she couldn’t take back with the sad-faced, ridiculously handsome blind man in the Marine uniform. But Nick gripped her arm lighting a small fire on her skin. The dog snuffled around her leg, whining as if sensing his master’s distress. “The hell you say.” He said, his jaw tight. “Besides, he has the smell of you all over him right now. I don’t know if it’s your perfume or shampoo or what, but you smell like rich, sweet honey. And I can tell he’s been dipping into it—into you. Not that I blame him.” “I don’t wear perfume and use unscented shampoo.” Her knees shook at his innocuous yet sexy words. She ran a fingertip down his face, unable to resist. “Don’t,” he flinched away. “I’m not interested in your type.” But his low voice said otherwise. “You say that now….” she muttered, not even believing herself as she spoke. How she’d gone from celibate to caught between two smoking hot men more interested in each other escaped her understanding. But she was full on horny now. And knew who could help her out. Something about Nick’s vulnerable strength made her want to weep, to hold him to her breast, and to climb all over him and fuck him silly at the same time. Jesus, woman you are out of control. Without exchanging any more words, she let Jamie pull her away. “Where’s your dad?” she said, when he stopped in front of the giant buffet of beer-friendly finger food. She saw Gavin’s sons hovering in the corner and took Jamie over to them. They smiled at her and took their cousin over to the chocolate fountain. Hannah resisted the urge to stop them, realizing the kid might as well totally OD on sugar. It was a party after all. She looked around, spotted Alyssa and Gavin chatting with a huge group of beer people. Ian was nowhere in sight. And she had never needed him more. Ian frowned as a shiver slithered down his spine. He sipped, chatted with the owners of a couple of large Midwest breweries and tried to keep a bead on his kid, his date, and Nick. This whole thing was beyond imagining. He couldn’t wait until it was over. He supposed he’d be taking Hannah home, to his house. Gavin and Alyssa were leaving for their honeymoon in a couple of days—Munich, then Belgium, then France. He shook his head at their beer geekiness. The boys were headed back to the west coast, and Ian felt at loose ends, as if this were the precursor to everything changing. The band was setting up, ready to launch the mild cocktail party to the next stage. That weird tingly sensation hit him again. He looked around, ignoring the people in front of him seeking the red hair of one and the blond of another. He ended the conversation, wandered back to the bar, and had them pour him another mild lager. He was trying to keep it cool, to be the sober one. A hand on his waist, that then dropped down to his ass made his cock press against the back of his zipper so fast he gasped, and stepped away from her. “Cut it out,” he muttered into his beer. “Ian,” Hannah whispered, setting his every nerve ending on edge. “I need you.” He gripped her arm, pulled her close. “No you don’t,” but he knew what she meant. He grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the crowd, finding the steps down to the basement underneath the club where Gavin and Alyssa were holding their reception. And his body was crying out, fairly screaming for contact with her. He no longer heard the band, or the conversations, or pretty much anything but her voice in his ear as they found a dark corner. This sex-soaked journey they’d embarked on was alarming to him on some level, as if he had to keep their physical contact to maintain some kind of mild emotional connection that he craved. “Jesus, Red, what’s gotten into you?” he groaned and shoved her skirt up, needing to touch her, to taste her. She smiled and handed him a condom. Experiencing a half second of frustration at the interruption, Ian wondered just how she would feel without the thin latex between them. But he’d declared this a hard and fast rule. Her adaption to it was admirable. “You have, Ian. God, help me.” She sighed, as he ran his thumb across her lips and stroked into her warm, welcoming grip, shoving her hard up against the wall. “Yes, oh yes.” She gripped his hair, yanked his face to hers and kissed him as she clenched, pulling him over the orgasmic edge fast. “Shit,” he grunted, gripping her ass and pumping into her. “You are…ah, god.” She smiled, threaded her fingers in his hair. “Lucky me. I remembered your condoms.” “Yeah,” he said, burying his face between her breasts. A sweet scent filled his nose, something he’d noticed before around her but that seemed even more intense right now in this illicit hidden space under his brother’s newly married feet. “Hannah,” he sighed. “Huh,” she said, lifting herself up and off him, zipping him back up and adjusting her dress. “That’s me.” He pulled the condom off, his face flushed and his heart pounding. He stopped her from fidgeting around with her hair, held her face and stared into her eyes. “You are going to kill me. Or something.” She bit his lower lip and slipped out from under his touch, like she always did. “Something I’d hope. So you’re around for more.” She took a few steps away as he leaned in the doorway to the storage room, trying to recover and get a grip on his roiling emotions. “Oh, uh, hi, Nick.” Ian tucked his shirt back in, reassembling himself fast, then looked up and saw him, the man he believed he loved, if he would admit it, standing with a look of disbelief on his face. Ian tried to process the words he spoke. “You know that honey smell I told you about upstairs? It’s even stronger now,” Nick said, leaning into Hannah but keeping his face turned to Ian. Ian started to say something but the sight of Nick’s strong, firm, uniform clad form close enough to Hannah to reach out and hold her close had rendered him utterly speechless. Nick went on. “Sorry to interrupt. But your son is throwing a fit worthy of a pop star diva up there. I was sent to find you. I guess I can thank my dog that I got to catch the last bit of your quickie.” He put his lips near Hannah’s neck, and Ian saw her tremble. Nick licked his lips, then turned and walked slowly back up the steps. Ian stood, mouth gaping open. Hannah scratched her nose, fiddled with her hair. “Wow.” She said, not looking at him. “Yeah,” he said, walking past her. But she put a hand on his arm. “You need to clear the air with him.” She said. “For both of your sakes.” Her eyes were sad, and Ian felt all kinds of shitty at that moment. “Hannah, I….” He tried to summon the guts to say what he was feeling at that moment—to be utterly honest, as they had declared they would be. They had no emotional connection, at her insistence. And what was washing through him at that moment was nothing but a raw, aching need to watch as Nick kissed Hannah. But the words required to describe that sounded selfish, or depraved. She touched his cheek then climbed the stairs leaving him alone with his ragged, tumbled thoughts. 

So...leave a comment below and the first 5 folks who do get a FREE ebook copy of HONEY RED....

Intimate Details with Tina Donahue

Please make Tina Donahue welcome today on the Books, Beer & More Blog.
She's highlighting her new book: "Intimate Details."

Blurb:
As a computer hacker, she demands justice.As a woman, she craves two powerful and commanding men.
Shana’s been hacking one of Manhattan’s most corrupt executives, making him pay for what he’s done to his victims. Using her skills, she convinces Mike and Cody to hire her at their intelligence-gathering firm, where intimate details help their clients.Never has Mike met a woman as delicious as Shana. Smart as hell, curvy and assured, she’d be a delightful challenge in bed. Cody’s carnal hunger is equally intense. He and Mike want to know everything about her.She won’t divulge the secrets of her past. All she can offer is unquenchable desire and her heart. During weeks of shameless lust and pleasure, Mike and Cody peel away the layers of Shana’s life. The stunning truth changes everything. They’ll do all that they can to keep her safe…and in their arms.


Excerpt:
The doors hissed open.Shana staggered from him, her mouth still wet from his kiss and Mike’s. She’d mussed his hair. Cody’s tie was askew. Backing out of the elevator, she murmured, “Good night.”Before either of them could respond, Shana turned to flee. No way could she ever come back here.“Whoa.” Mike grabbed her wrist as he had in the suite.The guard at the front desk leaned up in his chair. His beer belly hung over his belt. His expression said the security cameras had shown him what had just gone down in the elevator. “Everything okay, Mr. Russo?”“Is my driver out there?” Mike asked.The guard craned his neck to see. “Yes sir, he is.”“Please tell him we’ll be out in a few minutes.”“Yes sir.”The middle-aged man hurried outside. Mike held Shana’s wrist gently but firmly. “Good night?”His lower lip shone with the moisture she’d left on him. Several locks dangled over his forehead. Unable to help herself, Shana eased them back. “I need to go home.”Mike’s gaze remained lifted to her smoothing his hair. “Yeah, we get that.” Cody had just joined them. Mike spoke quietly. “You’re taking off after what just happened in the elevator?”She lowered her hand. “It shouldn’t have.”Cody frowned, his expression a mixture of confusion and disappointment. “Why not? Clearly, we all enjoyed it. You did, right?”More than anything Shana could recall. Their strength was thrilling and protective, an amazing combination she longed for but couldn’t risk. Her throat tightened. Tears threatened.Suddenly, she felt beyond weary and so alone she rested her head against Cody’s shoulder. Stupid, she knew, but Shana couldn’t help herself.Cody hesitated a moment, then ran his hand down her hair. Mike played with her fingers. She fought against smiling and crying. Crap, her emotions were all over the place.“You okay?” Cody murmured.Shana nodded then shook her head then nodded once more.“You’re hungry and tired,” Mike said, speaking softly. “You’re not yourself.”She laughed, unable to stop. “How can you say that? You don’t know me.”“We want to,” Cody whispered.Her belly clenched with worry. What they were asking for wouldn’t work. Shana knew they’d never harm her deliberately. They weren’t that kind of men. However, they were human and eventually they’d hurt her. It was what people did to each other, whether they meant to or not. Best not to get involved. She needed peace. They deserved a better woman than she could ever be.“We can talk about it in the car,” Mike promised.Shana eased away from Cody then memorized his and Mike’s features because she couldn’t see either of them again.“Really, we can,” Cody said.Smiling sadly, she straightened his tie then patted the knot, drinking him in, loving the gentleness in his expression, his rough good looks.“What?” he asked, as Mike had earlier.Shana’s emotions raged, battling with her thoughts. What she knew she had to do.The guard returned from the outside.She glanced at him then the glass door swinging closed. Mike and Cody shifted their weight as though they expected her to bolt.Shana should have. Leave, she ordered herself. Now.The guard looked at her curiously.She turned from him before he could read her expression. Mike and Cody studied her. Both of them were everything she’d ever wanted in a man, in a friend, and far more than she’d hoped for.Go.“Yes,” she said, speaking before she could stop herself. “I enjoyed every second.”They smiled.“And I’d like more,” she added, admitting what was in her heart.Now, they grinned.“But it’d only be sex,” she said, low enough so the guard wouldn’t hear. “Having a good time. Nothing personal. Ever. You guys couldn’t possibly want that. You deserve more.”“Wait,” Mike said, again keeping her from leaving. “Who said we’re looking for a commitment for god’s sake. What’s wrong with just being friends?”“Yeah,” Cody chimed in. “We already know what kind of lattes you like and that you’re into cheesecake brownies. That’s personal. As far as I can see the world didn’t screech to a stop when we found that out.” He glanced around then shook his head. “Nope. It hasn’t.”Mike leaned close, delivering his wonderful fragrance. “We’ll keep it fun. Promise.”“Nothing personal,” Cody said. “Strictly surface crap. We’ll talk about work, clients, sports, films, food, books. Stuff like that.”“Why?” she asked, stirred by what they’d said, frightened as hell too.Smiling, Mike brushed Shana’s hair from her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. Her breath caught. “Because we like you,” he murmured. “That’s what friends do. However, I do have one personal question, and I want an answer.”Her skin got clammy. She stepped back.He followed. “Are you in trouble or in some kind of danger? Is that what this is about? If so, let us know, please. We can help.”Shana stared at him.“Is someone trying to hurt you?” Cody asked. She thought about Raptor, the threat he’d presented in the past. What he’d do now if he were lucky enough to find her.“No,” she lied. “No one’s after me.” She faked a laugh. “Seriously, you guys were really in military intelli—”Cody interrupted, “We just want to help, all right?”Sobering, Shana nodded.“We won’t grill you on anything personal,” he said. “But you can’t ask us anything either.”“That’s right.” Mike took her hand. “No more hacking into our accounts either, business or otherwise. Remember, our lives are as private as yours is. Come on.”
Buy it: Siren: http://www.bookstrand.com/intimate-detailsAVAILABLE: Tuesday, November 4th This title is offered at a 10% discount. Offer ends midnight CST, November 11th
BIO:
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, and Kensington. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Three of her erotic romances (Adored, Lush Velvet Nights, and Deep, Dark, Delicious) were named finalists in the 2011 EPIC competition. The French review site, Blue Moon reviews, chose her erotic romance Sensual Stranger as their Book of the Year 2010 (erotic category). The Golden Nib Award at Miz Love Loves Books was created specifically for Lush Velvet Nights, and two of her titles (The Yearning and Deep, Dark, Delicious) received an Award of Merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competition (2011 and 2012). Take Me Away and Adored both won second place in the NEC RWA contest (different years). Tina is featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. She was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.
FB Fanpage: https://www.facebook.com/TinaDonahueBooks Email: tina@tinadonahue.comWebsite: http://www.tinadonahue.com/ Blog: http://www.tinadonahue.com/blog/Twitter: http://twitter.com/tinadonahueFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/tina.donahue.75Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_DonahueTriberr: http://triberr.com/tinadonahuePinterest: http://pinterest.com/authortina/my-books/Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/tinadonahueMy page at TRR: http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/mypageprofile.php?location=tinadonahueEC Author Page: https://www.ellorascave.com/index.php/authors/index/author/slug/tina-donahue/Samhain Author Page: http://store.samhainpublishing.com/Tina-Donahue-pa-1630.html


CONTEST
Win 3 of Tina’s backlist erotic romances from this list:
1. Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT2. Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit3. Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award4. In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT5. Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT6. The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller7. Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books8. Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR9. SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR10. Sinfully Wicked – Magnificent – Romancing the Book11.  Claiming Magique – Top Pick – NOR12. Illicit Desire – Four Stars Romantic Times13. Come Fill Me – Five Stars – Guilty Pleasures14. Losing Control - Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads15. Shameless Desire - Four and a Half Stars - The Jeep Diva16. Illicit Intent - Four and a Half Stars - Sensual Reads17. Deep Within Me - Four Stars - Romantic Times




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It's Time to Meet Your New Love

Love Brother that is....

THE LOVE BROTHERS, my first self publishing project has some of the most amazing covers and I am excited to reveal them to you here, today, along with a Giagantaur Contest with massive amounts of prizes contributed from tons of amazing authors and bloggers PLUS blurbs and excerpts and as YET MORE BONUS, the trailer....voiced by Daniel Dorse who will be narrating the entire series for their Audible.com versions.



So, shall we? Oh, make sure you read all the way down to the end....there's a rafflecopter contest with a metric ton of prizes donated from lots of great authors and bloggers! Lots of ways to win including commenting on this blog!

We shall....

I concocted this series as a way to try my hand at Self-Publishing, that Thing that I get such mixed messages about. Is it good, bad, neither? Will anyone ever read a Liz self-published book? I began with a concept that was meant to be a fairly straightforward "romance." In typical Liz fashion it went in a slightly different direction--more along the "family saga" lines, with intertwining stories, complex family dynamics, plenty of humor, a bit of heat and some good old Kentucky touches--bourbon, basketball and a few phrases that set my Aussie editor back a few steps.

Each story focuses on one of the brothers in an extended Irish/Italian heritage family whose beginnings were not auspicious. Lindsay Halloran was the slightly spoiled daughter of a wealthy horse farmer, a near Olympian-level dressage rider herself. Anton Love shows up one day declaring himself her father's new "manager." She takes one look at him and decides to seduce the unbelievably handsome, young, virginal man but .... you'll have to wait for FAMILY LOVE, book 4 which releases in the summer of 2015 to get that whole story.

I drop you right in the middle of the their grown children's lives with LOVE GARAGE, continue it with COACH LOVE and end (for a while) with LOVE BREWING. Each novel is not entirely about just one brother but does use one of the brothers as the focus feature to tell more about the family itself.

Let's jump in with LOVE GARAGE:
Releases in ebook Jan. 5, 2015 and print, March 14, 2015

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.

 A FULL CHAPTER.... just 'cause.... Aiden stood in the office of Love Garage at four-thirty the next morning. He’d not been able to get back to sleep after a nightmare, so arriving early seemed as good a use of his time as any. The memory of his mother’s drawn face when he’d shown up yesterday, unannounced, already violating one of her myriad rules of etiquette, had haunted him, making him toss and turn on the small bed in Antony’s spare room.She’d looked so diminished, reduced in a way that made his heart leap into his throat even now, recalling their visit.
“Oh, Aiden,” she said with a sigh when he brought her a cup of her favorite spiced tea. “What am I going to do with you?”He stopped and gripped the teacup, those familiar words bumping around like marbles against his near-constant guilt. He’d failed so completely at the one thing he’d wanted, after years and money spent, it made him want to yell, to punch a hole in the wall. The Love family home—a modest, four-bedroom, 1970s split-level on a few acres—had weathered its share of male fists in the Sheetrock.He took a breath, set the cup down with a telltale rattle then sank into the large leather chair usually occupied by his father, while Mama curled up under a huge flannel blanket emblazoned with basketballs and the Lucasville High mascot—a rearing, slightly demonic-looking horse. Her red hair had streaks of pure gray threaded through it. The freckles on the face that he’d so loved to touch as a little boy, fascinated by them, by her, by the sheer wonderfulness of his mother, had faded, some disappearing altogether in the deep lines around her eyes and on her forehead.He tried to think of something to say, but words failed him for the second time that day. No big surprise there. Par for the course, really, his inner, self-pitying, wanna-be writer yammered. He glanced around the room, both comforting and familiar, while sickeningly strange and empty.His mother had a thing for rearranging and redecorating every three to five years, depending on how well the brewery had done the year prior. The most recent iteration involved heavy brown and maroon leather furniture, candles in holders fit for high mass, and a thin, but expensive, Asian-style rug over hardwood flooring the brothers had installed themselves fifteen years earlier.Framed photos lined the top of a new bookshelf. Each of the Love siblings in their basketball uniforms—but for him in his up-yours soccer kit—were displayed, along with a graduation photo, and each of them at senior prom with some girl on their arm. Antony’s wedding photo stood next to baby AliceLynn’s newborn picture.His sister Angelique’s photos graced the space as well, taking up as almost as much room as the boys combined. Photos from her dance team, at one of the zillions of competitions she’d won, at her graduation, and one of her in a—to Aiden’s mind—too-slinky prom dress for a seventeen-year-old. She and some lame kid in a tuxedo posed in front of their house with his mother’s prize half-dozen dogwood trees in full bloom behind them.He sighed and faced his mother, only to find her staring at him as if trying to figure him out. He grabbed the hand not holding her tea, desperation making him breathless.“I’m sorry, Mama. I just…I can’t deal with the politics of that program. I mean, I have the book written, you know? I need to…I don’t know, work on it some more, submit it to some agents?”“Why don’t you publish it yourself? It’s what everyone else seems to be doing. Half the books I see on my e-reader are published by the authors themselves.”Aiden grimaced. “I don’t want to be a publisher. I want to be an author.” He rose from the couch, hoping to end that particular topic. “Anyway, we need to focus on you for a while. It’s one of the reasons I came back you know.” He kissed the dry, papery skin of her cheek.She touched his face, her eyes showing a bit of the sparkle he remembered.“You know, I somehow knew you’d never really leave. I declare I could hardly get you to let go of my legs for the better part of two years before you finally got dragged to kindergarten. It took Antony to convince you of that. You worshipped that boy.”She patted his cheek hard, reminiscent of the smacks she had no qualm bestowing on all of them. Being able to whack her rowdy crowd of children upside the head every now and then had been her way of reestablishing control over her world. And while it would hurt physically, it hurt more emotionally, knowing her temper had been taxed to that point.At least it had for him.He took her hand, kissed it then made a few minutes more of fuss over her, aware of the clock ticking its way toward 7:00 p.m., the hour his father always arrived home.“I should go.” He handed her a lap blanket emblazoned with the University of Kentucky Wildcats’ emblem.She smiled, but the exhaustion on her face alarmed him even further. As a little boy, he’d been convinced that his mother never required sleep—that one of the magical mom things included not sleeping. She’d always be up and sipping a beer with her husband when Aiden went to bed then wide awake and having coffee when he’d stumble into the kitchen for breakfast.It made sneaking out and back in as a teenager tough, if not impossible. The only one who’d ever fully flown in the face of that had been Dominic, the brother just older than him, which had made for some epic battles between Dom and their mother—battles Lindsay always won. Aiden never could figure out why he kept beating his head against the brick wall of their mother’s rules. But he always had.“You’re going to have to face him eventually. I’m guessing Antony has already told him you’re back and working for him.”Aiden frowned. Antony had always been the worst tattletale.“I’m glad to have you back, son.”He smiled, unnerved by the tears standing in her eyes, hating to be the cause of it. He preferred it when his mother shed tears over their father, or his baby sister.“Thanks, Mama. I’ll get myself sorted out, I promise.” Heading for the kitchen, he turned. “Oh, just curious. Is Antony dating Rosalee Norris?”Lindsay frowned, her face looking younger for a split second. “Why?”“No reason.” He jingled Antony’s truck keys in his pocket. “Just saw her and her little boy today at the garage. She and Antony seemed…close.” He cursed his fair skin for the heat creeping up his cheeks.“Antony claims he will never date again.” Her voice sounded stronger now, which encouraged Aiden, as if marshaling her energy to meddle in the lives of her sons gave her a reason to rally. “Rosalee is a lovely girl, although that Jeffrey is wild as a March hare.” She shook her head. “A real hellion. And I know one when I see one.”“Have you and Daddy…I mean, with Antony, and…her and Jeffrey?” Aiden hated sounding desperate but he’d sustained a low-level lust and mild obsession with Rosalee since seeing her, and wanted as much information as he could get.“Why so interested?”He looked down at his shoes. “Never mind.”“Aiden Leonardo, don’t you waste breath lying to me.”“I’m not,” he insisted, backing away, needing to escape. “I just want to know, you know, about my brother and…stuff.”She laughed, the tinkling, musical sound he’d adored his entire life. “Oh, you boys are going to be the death of me.” Her eyes danced with amusement but her voice got serious. “You let Antony have this one, Aiden. He needs someone like her. He deserves her. You wait your turn.”“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, not terribly surprised she’d sliced through his pretense so efficiently. “AliceLynn still living here?” He had to divert the conversation somewhat. Antony had handed his daughter over to Lindsay to raise after Crystal’s accident, while in the darkest depths of his depression. They’d agreed to do it, “for a while.” But that “while” had stretched out over a decade.“Yes, she is. But she’s at Crystal’s mama’s house about half the time.” Lindsay picked up her e-reader. “You know, once that Renee finds out you’re back in town I’m guessing you’ll have your fool hands full with her again.” She slipped on her reading glasses, pinning him with her unwavering gaze. “You remember condoms, young man. Do what you must, but know that I do not want that girl spawning my next grandbaby. Lord, have mercy.”Renee Reese. He’d almost forgotten about her.
And now, the sun rose over the tops of the small town where he’d grown up lighting the edges of the Love Garage’s bright white interior. The town that had begun life as support to a bunch of horse farms in the picturesque landscape between Kentucky’s two largest cities had morphed into an extended, upscale suburb of Lexington. Full of huge, fancy neighborhoods built on those former horse farms’ land, complete with a Whole Foods Market, PF Chang’s, and a giant outlet mall, with a water park, a driving range, a mini-racetrack, and a sprawling soccer complex, the kind Aiden wished he’d had access to as a kid.The “charming” downtown remained, but sans a lot of the businesses Aiden remembered. The local hardware store got priced out of town by the Home Depot. The village pharmacy replaced by not one, but two large chain stores. There were a few stalwarts, thanks to the locals who remained. Shug’s, the ice cream and soda shop, with red-leatherette benches, and black-and-white-checked floor tile, and Bryant’s Burgers, a hole-in-the-wall dump of a place, with seating for about twenty, and a sticky, smelly bar. It had been featured on Man v. Food not once, but twice.And of course, the small corner once occupied by the original Love Bros Brewing Company that had been founded by Aiden’s father and uncle nearly thirty years before, prior to the craft beer explosion across America. It still housed The Love Pub—a name that made Aiden flinch every time he saw or heard it. The quaint town square boasted huge, ancient trees, a fountain, and a statue of William Haynes Lucas, owner of the biggest, oldest, and most famously bankrupt horse farm in the nation.During the summer months, teenagers lolled around on blankets, girls trying to attract boys, boys pretending not to be attracted. Moms and toddlers hung out during the days, playing on the swings and slides in one corner. There were mass picnics for the town, including the annual Labor Day fish fry, festivals galore, and in the winter, a small, manufactured ice rink tucked in next to the Jeffersonian-style courthouse.To his literary mind, it had always seemed very Our Town, both the good and the bad. He’d spent a lot of years yearning to get the hell away from it. But damned if its familiar contours, the scent of distinct maltiness from the new Love Brewing production facility down Hunter Road from the garage, and the ability to order his day by the train whistles every four hours, relieved him in ways he’d never believed possible.He sipped his coffee and glanced around at the pristine shop floor, the gleaming lifts, the rows of organized, polished tools. His back ached and his legs were sore, but for the first time in nearly three years, he experienced near perfect contentment. On a whim he did a quick phone search, hitting the letters R-E-N- before the name of the girl in question appeared, surprising him a little.Not a girl anymore. A thirty-one year-old woman, a business woman, he’d heard, who owned some chic salon and spa. Renee’s had been written up a lot online when it opened.His mother had sent him one of the links. “Thought you might want to see what your high school sweetie got up to,” she’d said in her email. “All the rich ladies in the big houses go there.”Renee had been in Dominic’s class in high school, and her obsession with him had been legend. He’d hooked up with her a few times, before he dumped her like he did pretty much every girl he dated.She’d shown up at the Love family home the night of their break up, sobbing, begging Aiden to tell Dom she needed to talk. Aiden had eagerly surrendered his virginity to her within an hour on a rickety cot in the corner of the lowest floor of their quad-level house. It had been the most glorious moment, full of whispers, lips, teeth, smells, skin, and sighs of delight.Moment being the key word of course, since he’d been a raw rookie. After that, she’d taken him on as a project, determined to teach him, the “sweet Love brother,” how to really treat a girl.Aiden sighed and slouched against the open garage door, his skin tingling even now at the memory of her firm, porcelain skin. The way she’d taken his fingers and placed them here, then there, told him to press, rub, stroke, fast…faster…then how to properly use his lips and tongue. He shifted, embarrassed by how his body still, to this day, anticipated the lovely, brash, sexy Renee.Dominic had spent about an hour threatening him with bodily harm for “stealing his girlfriend,” a few weeks later. But their father ended that, nearly shoving Dom through the wall of the upstairs hallway over it.“I won’t have you punks fighting over puss—over girls. Your mama and I have enough on our plates without that shit.” He’d poked Dom in the chest then smacked his face when he wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You dumped her, Dominic Sean, unless my memory of her crazy caterwauling on my porch deceives me. And I don’t think it does. You don’t want her. That makes her fair game. I’m not saying I’m thrilled that Little A is letting some woman drive him around but….” He’d shrugged then clapped Aiden on the back. “You must have something going on she likes, eh boy?”“Don’t call me little A, please, sir,” he’d muttered, mortified, but glad that his father had intervened. He’d been more than a little afraid of Dominic, most days.Dominic had walked away in a huff, and left him a gift that night by way of a sticky, still-cum-wet Kleenex under his pillow, where Aiden always stuck his hands when he slept. He’d not mentioned it though—refused to give the jerk the satisfaction. Besides, what other nearly sixteen-year-old had such amazing, upper classman, feminine riches at his fingertips? He’d have been an idiot to jeopardize it.His parents drew the line at him going to prom with her though, so she’d gone without him, which had driven him mad with jealousy. They’d stuck as an on-again-off-again couple her one remaining year of high school, and nearly a year after that, while she attended night school and worked at her aunt’s hair salon. To this day, the smell of hairspray and acetone had the power to give Aiden a painful boner, thanks to all their illicit time in that place.He snuck one of the two cigarettes he allowed per day out, lit it, and sucked in smoke, reveling in its forbidden satisfaction. Better two than two packs, he claimed. But he’d once been a two-pack a day smoker, working deep into the night on his novel only to emerge, stiff-necked and starving, his mouth tasting like an ashtray when the morning alarm sounded.Just as he finished the cig, he caught sight of Antony’s car in the distance. Wondering when—or better yet, how—he’d made the trade back with Rosalee yesterday, Aiden smashed the butt with his heel, then picked it up and ducked inside, sticking a piece of gum in his mouth.Antony parked and climbed out of the car, stretching up and then down to touch his feet, before heading to the door. Aiden watched him, the full force of family memory hitting him hard. Antony had always been his favorite. The oldest brother had taken on responsibility for Little A (as opposed to Antony’s, Big A) with relish, shielding him from the scary, intense Dominic while they were all more or less ignored by the ginger-haired, family hero, Kieran—the one serious athlete of the group of them, and the acknowledged family peace-keeper, or brown-noser, depending on the situation.Aiden glanced around the office, reassessing the order he’d spent an hour imposing on the place, where receipts, invoices, and bills had once been lumped into huge, grease-stained piles. He’d brought in some dollar-store plastic bins, labeled them then sorted through the mess of paper on the desk, depositing them in their respective new homes.He’d wiped down every visible surface, going through mounds of paper towels and de-greaser spray to get the worst of the ubiquitous sheen of dusty grime. All this after he’d mopped down the garage floor twice, used the degreaser and rags on all visible lifts, work tables and tools and even cleaned the garage door windows.He’d kept rap music cranked, distracting him from his gut-deep exhaustion. Then he’d hunted down the coffee maker underneath six inches of disgusting grime, ran down to Publix for coffee and filters, and now the office smelled less like grease monkey, and more like morning.“What the fucking hell is that noise?” Antony loomed in the doorway, glaring at him then at the newly neat-and-tidy office desk. “And what the hell have you done in here?”“Cleaned up. I didn’t lose anything or throw away a single piece of paper. I just imposed some order is all.”“Hmph.” His brother dropped into the large leather chair with a groan.“Knee?” Aiden passed him a cup of coffee in a cup he’d spent the better part of ten minutes de-grossifying.Antony let out another grunt and took the cup, squinting through the rising steam from the coffee. “Stop that cat-in-heat noise. Please,” he added.Aiden reached over and disconnected his phone from the speaker. He had a sort of random, immature thrill of eagerness for approval and resisted the urge to say things like, did you see the garage floor? How about that bathroom? Antony sipped in silence, ignoring him. Aiden had heard him tossing and turning the night before as well, but had been unsure if asking if the guy wanted to get up and join him for a shot of bourbon would have been the right thing to do.He’d been curious about AliceLynn, Antony and Crystal’s now-teenaged daughter, but had been informed of the topic’s off-limits nature night before, once Antony had returned home from a date.“Not really on a date,” he’d claimed, as he downed two glasses of water in quick succession. “Rosie’s house needs as much work as her car, and she can’t afford to hire anybody. So, she feeds me a decent dinner, and I fix leaks, caulk windows, mow grass, that sort of thing.”“Sounds convenient, almost like marriage,” Aiden had quipped, as a flare of jealousy hit him square in the chest.Antony hadn’t answered. He’d merely placed the glass in the sink and shuffled past the table still favoring the knee he’d blown out his senior year.According to their mother, the brothers who remained in the area still gathered every Sunday morning for the weekly round-ball game. Sometimes friends joined them, sometimes not, but they never ever skipped it, no matter the weather. That probably did not help the condition of Antony’s knee.“Don’t leave any lights on when you go to bed,” he’d said, without looking at him. “I’ve gotta get some sleep.”He’d lurched down the hallway while cursing under his breath. Before his wife had been killed, Antony had been the most talkative, gregarious, and outgoing of them all, very much a responsible oldest sibling, but in a positive way. Granted, the man had always had a ferocious temper, and suffered no fools. But the morose version of the man who’d championed and protected him from birth now seemed to be the new Antony. Except of course, those few minutes when he’d been around Rosie Norris.Aiden sighed and dropped his chin into his palm.“Let Antony have this one,” his mother had insisted. And she’d been right.After making a mental note to call Renee the next day, he’d retired to the third bedroom, feeling tired enough to sleep for weeks, only to lay awake studying the ceiling hour after hour.Aiden watched Antony as he sat at his desk, his face impassive. “I, um, cleaned everything, so you’ll just have to point me where you want me to go for the rest of today.”Antony gave a noncommittal grunt, still not really acknowledging him. Finally, he got up and plugged his own phone into the speakers. Twanging country music exploded into the garage. Aiden rolled his eyes, pondering just how long and crappy this day might be.By noon, the non-sleep, busy-work adrenaline had fully dissipated. He sat in the office, head dropping back and bouncing forward in the warm room. Weird half-dreams haunted him—memories of Renee’s lips, and tits, and skin, mixed in with images of Rosalee’s compact sexiness, her thick brown hair, those deep-green eyes. He awoke on the floor after tumbling backward in the chair, then scrambled to his feet, wincing at the tightness behind his zipper.Wet dreams in the middle of the day, Aiden? Nice.Gazing into the now sparkling bathroom mirror, he grimaced, studying his own familiar features. He’d been blessed with a square jaw, just like all of the Loves, with a straight nose made crooked by a hard blow from Antony in his senior year, and good teeth. Only two of them had required braces as adolescents, well, three counting his sister, he supposed.His skin tone fell somewhere between fair and lightly tanned. He had thick brown hair and nondescript hazel eyes. Antony’s deep-olive skin mirrored that of their father and uncle. He also had the chocolate-colored Amatore family eyes. Kieran’s pale, freckled, red-headed, visage reflected their mother’s Irish heritage. Her huge pack of older siblings had declared Kieran the “only decent one of the bunch,” based on his old-country looks.Dom’s skin was bronze, a perfect match to his long, golden-blond hair. He’d “cursed” it, according to their mother, with wild, intricate tattoos, and bizarre piercings. Aiden had even heard the guy had pierced his dick, which he simply could not get his mind around despite having seen the ring in his nipple plenty of times.Of the four brothers, Aiden had always been the least striking. Just a regular guy, but with a face he figured would always seem a little younger than his actual years. Which worked for him because, thanks to the lovely Renee, he’d been totally hooked on older women from the beginning of his sexual history.He’d even gotten tangled up with a professor out in Iowa.“Practice makes perfect,” she liked to say as she propped on her many pillows and Aiden did whatever she asked of him. Her husband had not been amused. That had ended badly for everyone. He’d been celibate since, which grated on him.He frowned.Hi, I’m Aiden, a healthy twenty-seven year-old with two Bachelor’s Degrees in Something Useless, and an unfinished Master’s in Fine Arts. I’ve not had sex with anything other than my right hand for going on four years, and I’m back at home, broke, begging my brothers for jobs, and places to sleep, and my mother is dying of cancer. Oh, and I’m too scared to face my own father, so I haven’t seen or talked to him yet, although I’ve been in town for two days already. Plus, the minute Dom sees me, he’ll probably deck me.He made a mental note to call Renee.
_____________________________________________________
COACH LOVE is book 2 and will also release Jan. 5, 2015 and print March 14, 2015. 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.
A Chapter Excerpt:
 Kent opened her car door and helped Cara out into the oppressive night air. The dinner had been stuffy and boring and she’d had one too many gin and tonics. But she’d charmed the wives as she’d been asked to do, and he’d been positively glowing with excitement by the time they’d parted from the other two couples at the country club doors. He’d babbled on about the future of his real estate development all the way to her small apartment building while she’d stared blearily out the window, ignoring him. “Babycakes, you were amazing,” he declared guiding her toward the slightly off-kilter door to the building. Taking her hand, he spun her around under his arm then held her close, planting a kiss on her that made her already spinning head even less stable. She stumbled when he let go of her to open the door. She slumped against the doorjamb, acknowledging he looked great as usual, his trim, five-foot-eleven frame filling out his suit to perfection. Truth be told, Kent wore her out with his firm belief that she wanted all this social acceptance clap-trap as much as he did. “I’m gonna go meet the boys,” he said, making her relieved and pissed off all at once.  “Need to talk some more business and I know you hate that stuff.”Unable to give breath to the strange go-but-don’t-gofeelings churning in her gut, she hesitated. Kent tugged her once more into his embrace. “I love you. We’re gonna be a great couple.”She nodded, not trusting her voice. “You’re okay with me going out, right? You told me you were tired.” “Yeah, it’s fine. Just remember you need to make a deposit for the video guy and the final payment on the...”“I got all that, babe. One thing you never have to worry about with me is managing the money stuff. I have your spreadsheet and my deadlines and the checkbook.”Sighing again she contemplated him a moment. Not worrying about the money stuff after living just this side of the poorhouse with her mother provided more relief than she knew how to express, although the low-lying disappointment she always sensed when visiting his family’s house never really went away. Even his mother’s over-enthusiastic, never-ending insistence that she couldn’t wait to have Cara in the family always rang somewhat false.His grin forced her to smile in return. “Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”Nodding and waving, he trotted over to his car and roared out into the quiet street. She waited a few minutes before pulling her phone out of her purse—the fancy one Kent had bought for her after tossing her old, flip-model version ceremoniously into the trash. “Come get me. I want to go out and Kent dumped me for ‘the boys.’““I’ll be right there,” her friend Tricia replied.Within thirty minutes they sat at one of the new downtown wine bars, snagging a corner that stretched outside onto the sidewalk. After they’d sipped and people watched for a few minutes, Tricia bumped her shoulder.“Hey, is that the red-headed 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 racing pulse. “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 though 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 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 booze 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 booze-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 red-headed 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. Tricia picked her way through the gloom to the door then looked straight at Kieran who had his head tilted to one side like he used to do, when trying to figure out her mood. She took a long breath and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “So, talk. I’m all ears.”He blinked, put his arm across her seat again and lunged forward, forcing her to move lest they clonk foreheads. His lips were tempting—way too close. His rough jaw felt perfect under her fingers. The bar faded, leaving her alone with him in a way she never imagined she’d be again. “Don’t,” she said, even as their lips met again for a slightly longer brief moment. Eyes clouded, frown deep, he retreated into his own space, propping his elbows on the bar.“Sorry. Blame the booze.” His voice was rough, which sent a thrill of memory down her spine.Unable to resist the temptation, she touched his shoulder. “I don’t think I will,” she said, unbelieving even as she dropped her palm onto his leg again. “Let’s go somewhere else to talk.”“No, Tricia’s right. You don’t deserve to be party to my bullshit.”“Let me decide that.” Her hand moved higher, making him flinch. She swallowed hard. “I’ve missed you. I’m drunk. Why not take advantage of me?”His half-smile made her unbelievably sad. “You forget who I am, Miss Cara? I’m the nice guy. You’re engaged to some rich lawyer. Oh and hey, so am I. We have no business messing...”She covered his lips with hers, and this time he didn’t stop her.
______________________________________________________
And finally.....Coach Love will end with a bit of a cliffhanger and my many Beta readers (and editors) have told me that LOVE BREWING (Dominic's story) will be much anticipated. It will be the longest of the first 3 books and feature a bit of back and forth in Dominic's rather complicated history with Diana Brantley, his first girlfriend and the woman he keep returning to, despite her efforts to avoid him.It releases in ebook on March 1, 2015 and in print March 14, 2015.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.
I would offer you a chapter....but I'm still in revisions/first edits. I will offer you this teaser...

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked. But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she was poised and ready to marry someone else.“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party. He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to get solace from Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face. No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts. As if on cue, one of the dogs whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle. “Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, at least dogs always loved him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on something dry that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine. You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories threatening to mow him down. “Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.  “Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest tight, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her. “I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain pounding against the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said. “Makes me wanna laugh.”He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years. “How’d married life work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet. “How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale. It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay here as long as he needed.


FAMILY LOVE will release in the summer but I've also decided to give away a free novella as part of the story arc. 'SAFE LOVE' will be the very steamy story of Antony and Margot, a couple you first meet in Love Garage. Antony is the oldest, the alpha in a family of alphas. He's been through hell and back as a young man and is feeling the pressure of trying to continue to be the oldest in charge, to manage his feelings for his apparent girlfriend, Rosalee Norris now that he's nearing forty when he and meets Margot Hamilton. Margot is the divorced therapist Lindsay hires to help Antony work out his issues with his estranged daughter AliceLynn. Turns out Margot has a PhD in psychology along with her Masters of Social Work and Doctorate of Divinity. Her doctoral thesis was about the Myth of the American Alpha Male: Acknowledging Both Sides of the Dominant/Submissive Dichotomy. She has a few...ah...tricks up her sleeve to bring out a side of Antony Love he has never, ever shown anyone. You will get a hint of the intensity of their initial connection in Love Garage....but just a hint. It's hot stuff, no lie and it will be free in February 2015. 
Let's Win Some Prizes In Honor of These Boys, Shall We?We shall....
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Here are the Goodreads links for each of the first 3 books. There are a few really great reviews there. IF you are interested, I'm offering ARCs (Advanced Reading/Review Copies) of Love Garage now and Coach Love in a few weeks. Comment below with an email if you'd like a shot at one!
Love Garage: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22294474-love-garage?from_search=true
Coach Love: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22877945-coach-love?from_search=true
Love Brewing: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23344944-love-brewing?from_search=true

Cheers,Liz

Liz Gets Around

All right all right spare me your snickers….I mean "on the inter webs," ya dirty minded freaks!
(which is why I love you and we get on so well).


Today I'm just trotting by the blog and dropping in a few tidbits and links where you can find various Liz-related goings-on along with some random funnies for your Friday enjoyment that have little or no relationship to how clever I am NOT feeling right now...

Also known as "Liz is brain dead and drooling from hard core revisions on Love Brewing, promotional blitzes and blogger/reviewer begging for Love Garage but I've got some sh*t out there you ought to check out."

1.  Get some treats and no tricks …. click here to enter a contest! 

2. I advise all authors at all stages of their career how to manage The Monster in this month's Pro Rookie column for the Savvy Authors Learning Center.

3. WIN A KINDLE FIRE AND SOME AMAZON DOUGH! Here's a link to my most recent newsletter with a freebie chapter from GOOD FAITH and the rafflecopter awesomeness.

4. If you are a blogger/reviewers and wanna dive into a new Liz book in ARC (Advanced Reading/Review Copy) ASAP….email me here.

5. Check out my awesome new site on the Independent Authors Network! It rox.

Headed into a stressful soccer wenchling weekend…State Cup semi finals up at Pontiac tomorrow at 1. Send Jaguar Winning Vibes all!

cheerio
Liz

Join Liz for Pie and a Brew With Author Lauren Clark

Welcome Liz fans and others!

Today I welcome Lauren Clark, author of the new book PIE GIRLSShe's gone and paired up some brews with pie (which, as you know if you are a good Liz Acolyte is my FAV DESERT EVER).
Without further ado…over to Lauren…and don't forget about the giveaway at the bottom of the post!



Though Searcy’s shop, Pie Girls , in Fairhope, Alabama, doesn’t currently serve wine or beer, it’s fun to think about cold drinks that meld well with a slice of sweet pastry.
Searcy’s pies are all made-from-scratch goodness, with fresh ingredients and tried and true recipes that go back several generations. At the end of Pie Girls , I included four of my grandmother’s fabulous pie recipes that I adored as a child and still love today. Before the novel’s release, I had a bake-fest weekend to decide which recipes would be included!
I’d love it if you gave all four recipes a whirl and paired them with one of these fun beverages.
Because I love fruit and sweet drinks, bottled yumminess from Abita Brewery in Covington, Louisiana is my hands-down favorite. They offer up a Strawberry Harvest Brew that is refreshing and delicious. I think it would go perfectly with Searcy’s Chess Pie!
Check out this description:






Real Louisiana strawberry juice is added after filtration resulting in a crisp lager with a sweet strawberry flavor, aroma and haze. It is wonderful with desserts or lighter fare such as salads and pastas. Fresh cheeses such as Burrata, chèvre, Crescenza, mozzarella or Teleme pair well with Strawberry Harvest.Abita Strawberry Harvest is a lager brewed with pilsner and wheat malts and Vanguard hops.
Here are a few other Deep South breweries that offer yummy choices:

Alabama
Avondale Brewing Co., Birmingham, AL

TRY:  Peach Saison  (pair with Peach Pie, of course!)
Spring Street Saison is a Belgian style farmhouse ale. Our Saison is brewed with our proprietary house yeast, a 4 malt blend, traditional Slovenian hops and open fermentation. Our unique brewing process along with the combination of the finest ingredients creates a thirst quenching brew with no equal. True to style this unfiltered ale has a coppery golden color and rich malty backbone that creates a unique farmhouse brew with a subtle peach flavor.

Louisiana Abita, Covington, LA



Try: Abita Pecan (Pair with Chocolate Pecan Pie!) or Strawberry Harvest (Pair with Chess Pie!) 







Georgia
Sweetwater Brewing Company, Atlanta, Georgia


TRY:  Second Helping (Pair with super light and refreshing Lemon Sponge Pie!)
SweetWater is paying it forward and tag-teamed this IPA (brewed with juniper berries) with The Giving Kitchen – a local organization dedicated to helping folks from the hospitality industry who have hit a rough patch or experienced catastrophic emergencies. 100% of profits from the beer are donated right back to the amazing stuff The Giving Kitchen is doing.

Now it’s your turn! Any delicious brews you’ve tried lately? What do you think would go best with a slice of fresh blueberry pie or a helping of chocolate pecan pie?
Well, Lauren, you have come to the proper place for that question, speaking as the Official Beer Wench, brewery owner and author of brewery based novels, now haven't you?Here is your Liz Pairing, based on the fact that I am not a huge fan of fruit flavors in my beer but am a giant fan of pie (and am a Kentucky Girl in my soul):A huge slice of legit "Derby Pie" with a tulip glass of New Holland Dragon's Milk Imperial Stout.

Derby Pie contains pecans, chocolate chips and Kentucky bourbon (don't be fooled by imitations with caramel or walnuts or any other foolishness).
Dragon's Milk is a stout with strong roasty malt character, vanilla notes and extreme oakiness thanks to being aged in Kentucky bourbon barrels. Prepare yourself for a nap afterwards.

And read about The Pie Girls, grab your copy and remember, LOVE AN AUTHOR? LEAVE A REVIEW!

BLURB:
Princess, Southern belle, and spoiled-rotten social climber Searcy Roberts swore on a stack of Bibles she’d never return home to Fairhope, Alabama. After marrying her high school sweetheart and moving to Atlanta, Searcy embraces big-city life—Carrie Bradshaw style.
But now, Searcy has a teeny, tiny problem. Her husband’s had a mid-life crisis. He’s quit his job, cancelled her credit cards, and left her for another man.
Searcy returns to Fairhope, ready to lick her wounds. But when her mother falls ill, she’s is thrust into managing the family business—only to discover the beloved bakery is in danger of closing its doors forever.
Enlisting the help of the adorable bike store owner next door, an array of well-heeled customers, and her soon-to-be ex-husband, Searcy hatches the plan of the century to save Pie Girls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~Excerpt:Chapter 1
            This cannot be happening.             This cannot be happening.             I steal a glance at the clock. Where is my husband? And my anniversary gift, for that matter. The robin's egg blue box, the crinkle of the white tissue paper. The gasp of surprise, well-practiced, when I lift the diamond-encrusted pendant from its nest.             Alton, always the gentleman, will insist on helping. He'll clear his throat, looking rather pleased with himself, stand up, and sweep my long blond hair off to one side. With flourish, he'll ever so carefully drape the platinum chain around my neck, plant a soft kiss on my bare shoulder, and ease the clasp into place.            When my eyes blink open, the room’s still empty. Alton, who's been on a business trip for a full week, promised he'd make it home for our anniversary. If he doesn't, he’s going to be in huge trouble.            I fold my arms across my chest and walk over to our huge picture window. Elegant skyscrapers glow in the dark night, windows twinkling white and gold. Below them, steady streams of traffic wrap like ribbons around the maze of interstate highway.             Away from the roadways, Atlanta is surprisingly lush and dense, with rolling hills and trees—beautiful magnolia, dogwoods, old Southern pines, and magnificent oaks. The expansive green space, well-manicured parks, and flower-lined sidewalks remind me a bit of home.
Buckhead—where I live—is a mecca for shoppers, visitors and businesses, with its upscale boutiques, restaurants, and hotels. Trendy bars, dance clubs, and bistros all come to life when the sun melts into the horizon. A place to see and be seen. It truly is the Beverly Hills of the South, as my friend Phillipa likes to call it.

I just bought my copy of this book and am looking forward to having Lauren back on the blog once I read and review it.
Here's more about Lauren:
Lauren Clark writes contemporary Southern novels sprinkled with sunshine, suspense, and secrets. A former TV news anchor, Lauren adores flavored coffee, local book stores, and anywhere she can stick her toes in the sand. Her big loves are her family, paying it forward, and true-blue friends.
She is the author of four award-winning novels, Dancing Naked in Dixie, Stay Tuned, Stardust Summer, and Pie Girls, as well as a short story, A Very Dixie Christmas, published in the Merry & Bright holiday collection. Lauren is a member of the Gulf Coast Writers Association and the Mobile Writers Guild. Check out her website at www.laurenclarkbooks.com.
Websitewww.laurenclarkbooks.com
Blogwww.laurenclarkbooks.com/blog
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cheers y'all,Liz