Lisa Bilbrey's Blog, page 20

RELEASE TOUR: Dealing with the Viscount: Improper Wives for Proper Lords (Book 1) by Clair Brett

[image error] DEALING WITH THE VISCOUNTImproper Wives for Proper Lords (Book 1)by Clair BrettGenre: Regency Historical Romance
Does she dare gamble on the one man who wants her to go all in, or risk losing her most important hand yet?

After making a wager of marriage to settle her father’s gambling debts, Ella Bowen-Thorn Renwick escaped the husband she foolishly began to fall for and disappeared into the Scottish countryside carrying a secret. Four years later, and the owner of her own bakery, she is still not free of the demands of men when a violent and anonymous blackmailer threatens her, her livelihood… and her daughter. And then, there is him…

Viscount Renwick still mourns the wife he began to love before her untimely death-- that is, until he discovers her alive and well living in Scotland. Now, Devon’s face to face with the wife he thought he’d buried and the daughter he never knew existed. He’d like nothing more than to welcome Ella back into his arms, but mysterious and troubling incidents and a history with an unloving father have Ella trusting no one.

Now he’ll do anything, even make a wager he isn’t sure he can win, to reclaim what he lost.

But, if Renwick convinces his wife he’s the husband she always dreamed of and the father their daughter deserves, will the scandalous secret the blackmailer is holding threaten their future together once more?

“You like being a baker?” He asked with genuine curiosity and surprise.

"Well, the hours are atrocious, but do I like making my own way? The answer is yes. I make the decisions and there is no one to tell me what I am doing is wrong. It is a good feeling."

"You know, it is possible to depend on someone and not be frightened they would ridicule you."

She turned then and looked up at him. Was he saying he would never ridicule her? "I think it is human nature for a man to always question a woman's decision.” They had made their way to the folly which she hadn't realized was overgrown with vines affording its occupants with complete privacy. He was calculating, she would give him that.

"Two people can have differing views on a topic without ridicule. I have seen it." He helped her sit on the bench, then propped his booted foot on the seat next to her and rested his arm on his raised knee leaning down to face her. "If the two people see each other as equals it can work. Just like two business partners."

"Do you truly feel that marriage is a business venture?” She asked all innocent. She gave him her best card face hoping not to give away the importance of his answer. He studied her face. She knew he guessed his answer couldn't be so simple as a yes, or no. After several moments he attempted to answer.

"Well, I think that anytime two individuals are joined in a common goal, that yes they must treat each other as a partner. I daresay the benefits far outweigh most business ventures. Unfortunately, I can't answer past that, because I have never spent much time considering what a marriage would entail, until now. I am terribly out of my element here. You lived in a home with both parents for some time what say you?” He had answered her question in such a way that he didn't answer it at all. Blast! Birds chirped as they jumped among the vines of their haven. The air seemed heavy and warm. More like a summer day than spring. He waited. She knew she couldn't answer him using her own parents, because she would never want what they had. She would not accept anything but a love match. Instead she spoke of the one example she had. The baker and his wife who took her in when she needed it most.

"I do know something of how a true marriage can work. It was not a Ton marriage. The two people were a team as you said. They worked together every day listening to each other, but it was more than that. You couldn't see it or even explain it, but it was how they looked at each other. How they spoke to one another even when they were disagreeing. I think it was very rare, and possibly unattainable.” He shifted and turned to walk to the other side of the gazebo leaving a cool breeze in his wake, making her shiver.

"You are talking of a love match?" he asked with his back turned to her. She couldn't read anything in his words.

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Dragon keeper and historical romance author, Clair Brett lives in NH with her hard working husband, and two teenaged daughters. Her office staff during the day consists of Cinta, a black cat and the matriarch of the fur babies, Mojo, a yellow kitten who spends his day holding Clair down in her seat to get her word count in, a boxer/beagle mix puppy named Willow, who sleeps next to her chair to make it hard to do an Oreo run without doing a pee run as well, a hermit crab who keeps to himself, and a bearded dragon, who is kind of upper management.

A former middle and high school English teacher, Clair has had a lifetime love affair with reading. Once she read Pride and Prejudice as an extra read in high school, she was hooked. Clair began pursuit of publication when she was a new mother in need of a hobby. Her oldest daughter will be graduating in 2017, so you do the math. Clair is a firm believer that a reader finds a piece of who they are or learns something about the world with every book they read. She wants her readers to be empowered and to have a refreshed belief in the goodness of people and the power of love after reading her work.

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RELEASE TOUR: Her Brother's Keeper: The Jane Barnaby Adventures, Book Three by J.J. DiBenedetto

HER BROTHER'S KEEPERThe Jane Barnaby Adventures, book 3
by J.J. DiBenedettoGenre: Thriller/Suspense


Jane Barnaby has planned the perfect Christmas vacation. Her father and his fiancé are joining her in Spain at her archaeological dig. They’ll see her work, meet her mentor, and they’ll all enjoy a few days of sunny Mediterranean beaches in the dead of winter.

But it all falls apart when Jane’s annoying (younger?) brother tags along and lands in jail for a crime he didn’t commit.

To clear her brother’s name, all Jane has to do is chase a wily female con-artist across Europe, catch her, and confront the woman and her accomplices. Oh, and outwit an ex-KGB agent and his personal goon squad along the way.



God, I wish you were here. Not just because I miss you, although obviously I do. And not just because this is yet another Christmas we’re not spending together, which is kind of ridiculous when you think about it. We’ve been dating for three years now, and we still haven’t spent a major holiday together. That’s just not right.

The biggest reason I wish you were here is that, if you were, I wouldn’t be where I am right now. Which is on a plane headed to Vienna.

I’m sure you’re asking yourself right now, “Why, Barnaby? What are you doing flying to Austria?”

Well, I’m flying there to try and find a Russian woman possibly named Natasha who seduced my brother, drugged his drink and left him behind as a patsy for the police to find while she stole jewelry from a princess. Aren’t you glad you asked?

If you were here, you would have been with us at the hotel, and you would have warned my brother away from Natasha. By the way, I refuse to believe that’s her actual name. Does she have a partner named Boris, too?

Does she fight a moose and a squirrel every week?



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FINDERS KEEPERS - 99 cents
It should have been a simple job. All archaeology student Jane Barnaby had to do was pick up a box her professor needed and deliver it to him at his dig site, along with his new car. Yes, his office was in Oxfordshire, and his dig site was in Spain, a trip of 1,400 miles across three countries and two bodies of water. Still, it should have been simple.

And it was, until Jane discovered she picked up the wrong box by mistake. Not the one with boring pottery samples, but instead the one with priceless ancient Egyptian artifacts. The one that a team of international art thieves is after.

Now she’s chasing – and being chased by – the thieves. And she’s picked up a pair of passengers who claim they can help her outwit them, get her professor’s pottery back and return the artifacts to their rightful owner. If only she could figure out which one of them is working with the thieves and which one she can trust in this high-stakes game of finders keepers.

LOSERS WEEPERS - 99 cents
Jane Barnaby had everything going her way: a prestigious internship at the Museum of Natural History, a fantastic Upper West Side sublet apartment, and helping plan her newly-engaged college friend's wedding.

Until a casual lunch with her friend’s fiancé set off alarm bells, and sent her digging into the rabbit hole that is his past.

When that rabbit hole leads Jane and her on-again, off-again boyfriend to the English countryside, uncovering secrets dating back to World War 2, searching for priceless art treasures looted by the Nazis, and fighting off the thieves who will kill to get those treasures for themselves, will they discover the truth, or lose their lives?



J.J. (James) Dibenedetto's fans would swear he's got a sixth sense when it comes to seeing into the minds of others and often wonder if his stories could possibly be fiction. He enjoys suspending disbelief with suspenseful paranormal tales that are a perfect blend of reality meets fantasy.

His popular Dream Series continues to delight readers with each and every exciting installment.

Born in Yonkers, New York, he currently resides in Arlington Virginia with his beautiful wife and a cat he is sure has taken full advantage of its nine lives. When it comes to the cat, he often wonders, but then again it might just be his imagination.

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PROMO TOUR: Voyeur by Vanessa Liebe

VOYEURby Vanessa LiebeGenre: Collections & anthologies, contemporary erotica


Indulge in five stories of voyeuristic erotica, where the voyeurs find themselves wet or hard and longing for something more. Will they get it?

In Good Neighbors, Mandy accidentally spies on her neighbors’ twenty-year-old son, John, sunbathing naked in the garden, and can’t resist using the moment to relieve some tension. When another opportunity to watch him presents itself, Mandy finds she is unable to turn away, but she’s not expecting a confrontation with John in the morning where she discovers just what a good neighbor he can be.

Room with a View tells the story of James, a business man staying in a hotel for a conference. He’s unprepared for his room to come with clear sight of the occupants in an apartment opposite, or the show they put on. For two nights, he has a titillating spectacle and then he is invited over to indulge in a private show involving wax play and to participate in an exhilarating threesome.

In Voyeur’s Initiation, we meet nineteen-year-old Alana, an avid voyeur who has learnt a lot about sexual diversity from watching her neighbors. She thinks she knows what she likes until she is caught red-handed watching a couple having oral sex in a changing room and takes them up on their offer to participate. Can they show her what she really needs?

Forbidden Temptation is the story of Megan and her guardian. She comes home from university to see her guardian pleasuring himself whilst thinking of her. Finally having the proof she needs that he desires her, she is determined that he gives in to temptation. When he does, it results in a delicious spanking for Megan and much more.

Skinny Dip sees Adam, a landscape gardener, becoming an unintentional voyeur to a beautiful lady taking a skinny dip, before pleasuring herself. What Adam doesn’t know is that the lady is his employer, having chosen him deliberately as she wants more from him than his gardening skills.



Alana was so absorbed and was madly stroking her clit when the man suddenly flung his head back in pleasure as he came in the woman’s mouth. She had a close-up of his handsome face and received a big shock when he opened gorgeous green eyes and looked right at her, giving her a wink.

She gulped and blushed, embarrassed at being caught spying on them, yet unable to look away from him.

“Why don’t you come and join us, sweetheart, instead of standing up there?” he said. “I saw you admiring my cock in the swimming pool earlier.”

Alana chewed her full bottom lip, wondering if she had heard correctly and whether she should indeed join them. The blonde meanwhile had swallowed the hunk’s cum greedily and stood up. She also looked up at Alana and smiled. “Yes, come and join us. It’s a pity to only watch.”

Alana felt nervous but she was keen to join them. They were so sexy and maybe this was the right time to let someone actually touch her body.



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Vanessa Liebe is the author of fun, sexy erotic romance and erotica, both contemporary and historical. She mostly writes in the Fantasy and Paranormal categories as she likes a man with bite.

Vanessa is married with three children and resides in Hampshire, South East England. When not house training her children, reading or writing, she likes to sit in the garden with a glass of rose wine.

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#TalismanTuesday: Mantle by T.M. Franklin

It's #TalismanTuesday and time to check out Episode 4 in The Talisman Chronicles by T.M. Franklin - MANTLE.

Maia Sheridan isn’t sure why her cousin and her friends are so interested in an ancient journal found buried in the library archives, but she suspects they have a hidden motive. The journal tells of a secret group called The Order—powerful warriors tasked with protecting humanity.

Maia knows it’s a legend, an interesting bit of mythology passed down through generations. But the more she translates the journal, the more she begins to wonder if there’s more to the myth than meets the eye.

Maybe The Order is real. And maybe Maia’s destined to be a part of it.

Get MANTLE Today on AMAZON!And if you've missed any of the episodes so far, you can grab them below - and pre-order the rest of the serial so the books will show up in your Kindle as soon as they're available!

Don't forget to enter the Giveaway for a Kindle Fire, Signed Paperbacks, or an Amazon Gift Card!a Rafflecopter giveaway

T.M. Franklin writes stories of adventure, romance, & a little magic. A former TV news producer, she decided making stuff up was more fun than reporting the facts. Her first published novel, MORE, was born during National Novel Writing month, a challenge to write a novel in thirty days. MORE was well-received, being selected as a finalist in the 2013 Kindle Book Review Best Indie Book Awards, as well as winning the Suspense/Thriller division of the Blogger Book Fair Reader's Choice Awards. She's since written three additional novels and several best-selling short stories...and there's always more on the way.


Connect with T.M. Franklin

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COVER REVEAL: Truly, Madly, Whiskey by Melissa Foster

TRULY, MADLY, WHISKEYa stand-alone romance by Melissa FosterGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: April 10, 2017A new, emotionally riveting, sexy standalone romance by New York Times bestselling author Melissa Foster. 

Watch mysteriously sexy Bear Whiskey claw his way to his happily ever after with sassy, rebellious Crystal Moon.

Full book description coming soon.


"When it comes to contemporary romances with realistic characters, an emotional love story and smokin' hot sex, author Melissa Foster always delivers!" The Romance Reviews

"Like Nora Roberts, Melissa Foster has captivated me with her fantastic, sexy, romantic stories." K. Winning

"One of the greatest contemporary romance authors of all time." Underneath the Covers

"I'm highly addicted to her stories, and still want to kick my own behind for taking so long to finally read her." The Power of Three Readers


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Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.

Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.

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RELEASE TOUR: Jax: Knights of Black Swan Next Generation, Book Two by Victoria Danann

JAX: Resurrection Knights of Black Swan Next Generation, Book 2
by Victoria Danann Genre: Paranormal Romance


When you want a job done right, get a womanizing vampire.  Being a vampire playboy has worked for Jax for 600 years.  That's about to change.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann, continues the breathtaking new take on Knights of Black Swan with a sizzling follow up to Falcon.

Early Reviews Say..."NO ONE can tell a love story like Victoria Danann!" - Pam J."The thrill of the hunt at its finest." - Becky B.

The Next Generation of Black Swan knights continues the struggle to rid the world of "deadheads", virus infected vampires who are barely more cognizant than zombies. Jax, one of the vampires turned by the immortals, joined the fight and became Falcon's partner.

For six hundred years Jax has seduced women, drunk their blood, and left them feeling blissfully satisfied, but without memory of the event. It was a good and manageable life for a vampire until the deliciously wild redhead came along and showed him what he's been missing.

Find out why readers are saying it is awesome, riveting, steamy, and that they are totally in love with Jax.

Jax followed the woman into a crowded upscale bar where she was greeted by several female friends, also in their mid-twenties, also dressed as professionals. When she turned around, his breath caught in his throat. She was a titian-haired beauty, so like Brighton. She wasn’t Brighton, of course, but she was a near twin which, in his mind, meant feminine perfection right down to the last freckle.

He stood in the shadows and watched as she was greeted by the little gathering. She apologized for being late and asked how many drinks she was behind. Even though the music was near-deafening, he could zero in on the conversation halfway across the room. One of the advantages to being vampire.

Suddenly he was thinking that making a commitment to Black Swan had been a stupid move. If he wasn’t obligated to finish patrol, he could make a move on her right then. A move she would not be able to resist. As it was he needed to find a way to locate her the following night, when he wasn’t patrolling.

He melted into the shadows before breezing by her table and scooping up her little clutch bag, disturbing the air no more than would a waiter hurrying past. In a dark corner he opened it, withdrew her ID and memorized her name and address. Finding a few of her business cards was tantamount to striking gold. He took one, closed the bag, put it back before she realized it was gone, then rejoined Falcon on the street.

“Where were you?” Falcon demanded. “What was that about?”

“Sorry. Bathroom.”

Kris narrowed his eyes. “Nice try. I’ve been with you long enough to know you only go, what, once a week?”

Kris rolled his eyes.

“None of your business.” After a pause, he added, “At least three times a week.”

“The point being that the urge didn’t just overtake you.”

“Some things are private.”

“Yeah? I don’t keep much from you.”

“That’s your choice.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything.”

“One of the advantages of being six hundred years old.”

“See? You even have an answer for that.”




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AmazonThe knights are losing the war with the mutated virus. Humanity's extinction is a possibility.

Black Swan needs a miracle.

Who would guess that it might come in the form of a womanizing vampire?

"Reminiscent of My Familiar Stranger."

The next generation of the Knights of Black Swan have been inducted and vested with all the privileges and responsibilities of the B Team legends in whose shadows they took their training. K Team is coming into their prime as servants of The Order, with most of their lives ahead. Or so each one hopes.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann, brings us a sizzling new take on the Knights of Black Swan. The boys are all grown up and bursting at the seams looking for action.

Black Swan believed they'd found the cure for the vampire virus, but it mutated and the resurgence threatened to be the extinction of humanity within a generation. Help comes from a most unexpected source, a vampire.

Meanwhile, the new Director of Operations is cute, curvilicious and has Falcon reeling. And he doesn't need distractions when he's busy saving the world.

"Grabs hold and won't let go." - The Paranormal Romantic

The epic saga that has won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES the past three years in a row (Reviewers Choice Awards, the Paranormal Romance Guild) continues with a new crop of vampire hunters that we already know and love.

Grab your copy TODAY and find out why KBS is called astonishing, breathtaking, nail biting, spectacular, unique, and a wild and sexy ride.



New York Times bestselling authorof seventeen romances including paranormal, scifi, fantasy, contemporary, and teen. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES THREE YEARS IN A ROW. Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Victoria is co-host of the popular ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PAGES podcast. 
The rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She has also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.
Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.
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PROMO TOUR: Reclamation: the Legecy Reborn, Book One by Melissa Kay Clarke

RECLAMATIONThe Legacy Reborn, book 1
by Melissa Kay Clarke Genre: Young Adult Dystopian


One woman, one man, one Legacy, one chance to save them all.

Something malevolent stalks the world spreading chaos and discord, targeting those individuals who are destined to provide a great service to humanity. Most are not aware of their sinister plots, but one is.

To the casual observer, Scarlet is only a bicycle courier, however, she is so much more. When the shadows lengthen and evil walks, she is judge and jury, exacting justice. Perhaps some may call it an honor but she calls it a curse because she can't have a family or friends and can't relinquish it until the day she dies. With no help, she muddles through best she can, hoping to make a difference at the price of her own happiness.

Gage Williams, Senior Detective, is searching for a mysterious vigilante who leaves behind a sea of destruction and a grateful public. When all the evidence points to Scarlet, he has to weigh it against his own heart. Is it possible the woman that has captured his attention is the one they are searching for?

When the Legacy calls, Scarlet must answer. 

Even if it costs her everything.

“He was about five-foot-eight or nine, skinny but with big muscles.” Renee shivered as she described her hero to the detective.

“No, he was more like six foot tall,” piped in her friend Jill, “with blond hair and blue eyes.”

“His eyes were green. I got a close look,” Renee retorted. “His hair was more like brown than blond, maybe what they call dirty blond.”

Gage rolled his eyes as he tried to make notes on the person who had saved the teens from their folly. “Are you even sure it was a man?”

Both girls nodded. “Absolutely. He had a deep, sexy voice,” Jill chimed in, “and a blond mustache. I saw it over the scarf he had over his face.”

“What kind of knife did he have?” Gage waited expectantly.

“It wasn’t a knife, it was one of those sword thingies,” Renee said.

“Yeah, a freaking huge sword. It was about three foot long and two inches wide, with black leather on the handle. I could draw a picture of it, if you want.” Jill nodded enthusiastically.

“It would help.” He smiled. He severely doubted either of these two could supply anything helpful, given the way they were both behaving. If he had to guess, they were probably coming off a high or drunk or perhaps both. He looked up as a car pulled into the parking lot and four adults spilled out, running over to them. “Here come your parents. You can go with them, but I need you both to come down to the station in the morning and answer some more questions.” He flipped the notebook closed and tucked it back into his pocket. The two girls were wrapped in parental arms and sobs of relief filled the air.

Back at the murder scene, the M.E. loaded the second body onto a gurney and into their waiting van.

“What do you think really happened?”

Gage rolled his shoulders and glanced over at the officer who had asked. “I think two kids got lucky and one kid didn’t.”

“You want to put out an APB on our hero?”

The detective laughed. “Yeah, sure. Be on the lookout for a blond or brunette man between five-foot-nine and six foot tall, roughly one hundred and fifty pounds or two hundred pounds, in his early twenties or thirties with blue and green eyes, wearing all black. Approach with caution because he has a freaking huge sword thingy.”

“So basically, we are looking for the entire cast from Highlander,” the officer quipped. “I can’t wait to see the sketch accompanying it.”




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Melissa was born in Tupelo, Mississippi and raised in Houlka, a small rural town forty-five minutes southwest down the famous Natchez Trace. She found a love of reading very early and quickly devoured everything she could. In the fourth grade she discovered a multitude of worlds when she received her first library card. Told repeatedly that she had a wonderful imagination, she turned to scribbling her musings and wrote her first novel while in college. It was never published and has since vanished. The death of a close friend who aspired to become an author reawaked her own desire resulting in penning her first book, Shattered Dreams, published in 2013. It was quickly followed by two sequels with a forth final book in the works.

Melissa now resides in Meridian, Mississippi with her supportive family – husband, Robert and daughter Rebecca, two cats, and a precocious Chihuahua. When she isn't writing, she spends way too much time communicating with her online friends and feeding her ravenous appetite for the written word.

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PROMO TOUR: Violet Chain by J Kahele

VIOLET CHAINby J Kahele Genre: Contemporary Romance


After catching her fiancé with another woman at their engagement party, Violet Townsend's world is turned upside down.

Desperate to numb the pain, she falls into the arms of charming, young entrepreneur Chain Alexander.

Chain, a notorious womanizer of Philadelphia, not looking for anything more than a night of pleasure with a woman, is drawn to Violet instantly. There is something about her that he needs and wants so desperately and it’s not just sex.

But Violet is resistant. Can she open her heart again after having it broken so brutally? And more importantly, should she?

This book is intended for mature audiences.



His hand slid to the curve of my back and he pulled me into a deep embrace. My eyes met his and they gleamed with a softness and gentleness that took my breath away. He smiled as he slid his finger down my cheek, across my chin, before slipping back into a kiss. I didn’t know if it was the way his lips softly touched mine, or if it was the loving way he had looked into my eyes, but everything about Chain at that moment captured my heart.

He placed feather kisses across my collarbone, the curve of my neck, my jaw, and then claimed my lips. The kiss was soft, slow and lingering. As our lips parted our tongues met in sync. I held him close, wanting to remember his strong shoulders, the touch of his skin to mine. His hand caressed the inside of my thigh and I moaned, then he curled me close to him and kissed me with a passion that made my heart skip a beat.

As our bodies slowly moved against each other, I felt something reaching deep inside of me, gripping at my heart, overwhelming my emotions, causing tears to stream uncontrollably from my eyes. Chain lifted his head, staring into my eyes, and I saw he was mirroring the same feelings as I.

As he circled his hips slowly, we found our release together and I exhaled sharply. That familiar feeling filled me, that stabbing, aching feeling.

It surrounded me.

Engulfed me.

Suffocated me.

I turned away from Chain, hugging my pillow, my mind drifting off into a pit of despair. As much as I tried to fight it, to run from it, there was no denying that I was falling hard for Chain Alexander and there was no way of escaping.




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HIDDEN TRUTHS
Violet and Chain are trying to build a loving and trusting relationship, but life has a few more obstacles to throw at them.

Violet wants to know more about Chain's rocky past with his father, whilst Chain is more interested in getting Violet to commit to their relationship in a more permanent way: marriage.

To complicate matters, Chain's past holds a secret that could tear them apart forever, and he will do whatever it takes to keep the secret hidden.


BLU
Pearl has lived under the hard hand of a vicious man for years and when she finally makes her escape, she is hit by a car and wakes up in the hospital. She doesn’t remember anything from the night before, except for the comforting touch, of a beautiful man named, Christopher Blu.

Blu learns that Pearls life has been a circle of degradation, hurt and pain and he wants so bad to help her through it, that it completely envelopes his life. He cares for her and there is a mutual attraction between the two. But he's not sure if what he feels for her is real, or if it is just his compassion for a woman who has been so brutally scarred by her life.



I am a proud mother of three daughters who are my absolute complete existence. I write to relieve the scattered thoughts that stream through my mind, constantly. My biggest downfall is that I am a huge procrastinator, which makes my life at times hectic!


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PROMO TOUR: Death of a Sculptor in Hue, Shape, and Color by M.C.V. Egan

DEATH OF A SCULPTOR in Hue, Shape, and Colorby M.C.V. EganGenre: Women's suburban fiction


Color-coded love stories and revealing female anatomies lead to the puzzling death of world-renowned sculptor, Bruce Jones.

In life, the artist loved women, almost as much as women loved him. Adored for his art, colorful personality, and sexual prowess, Bruce is mourned by the world. The multifaceted perspectives of his four ex-wives, the current wife, his new love interest, and their children narrate this pulse-pounding tale.

Loose ends are tied up by the insights of Sylvia, his son Aaron’s wife and a trusted keeper of secrets; Scott, the private investigator and family friend; Nonna, the quintessential grandmother everyone loves but to whom few are truly related; and Detective Jim Miller who will not rest until he discovers Bruce Jones’ murderer.

Mary: Wife No. 1

Thunder, lightning and rain, that was what we had at our wedding. However, on the day of his funeral, the Florida heat and humidity made my face shiny with perspiration. My hair looked like a dark Brillo pad. My children requested I attend the funeral of my first husband. Bruce Jones, the world-renowned sculptor.

The parking lot was already packed with an unexpected variety of cars. I then realized that it was not peak season. The South Florida snowbirds are attached to their cars and they migrate with them back and forth each year.

I noticed a police car and a uniformed man by the entrance. Even for Bruce a bit much; however, since 9/11 security has been tight everywhere.

The valet attendant opened my rental car door. “Welcome ma’am. Your daughter is waiting for you.”

“Thank you. Please make sure you keep the car in the shade. August Florida heat and sun are not my friends.” I pulled a five-dollar bill from my purse to tip him, but he shook his head and mumbled, “No, thank you.” After all It was Palm Beach. I probably should have pulled out a twenty.

I was surprised that the building looked like an actual church, at least from the outside. The church had a long name. It was Universal something or other; apparently, a place of worship with neither affiliation nor strictures. Bruce’s life had, after all, been too outré to pretend he followed any conventional religious norm.

“Thanks for coming, mom.” Clair’s voice shouldn’t have surprised me, but I stood still, focused on carefully dabbing my shiny nose. I clicked the compact shut, smiled and answered, “Anything for you and Aaron sweetheart.” She nodded as she guided me where to sit. It was toward the back of the church; the ex-wives’ pew.

“Please mom, don’t look at me that way. This funeral is a time for forgiveness and closure.”

Clair always found a way to get me to do whatever she wanted. The last thing I wanted was to be in the company of the women sitting there. I touched my frizzy hair, regretting my rejection of the keratin treatment.

Wife number two, Leslie, was the first to say hello. “Mary, you look lovely. It’s been years.”

“It has, thankfully,” I replied. The other two simply nodded, and I nodded back. Leslie, the one Bruce left me for, handed me a packet of tissues and winked. Forcing a smile, I took them. The idea that she assumed I planned to cry had not crossed my mind. I pulled the compact out of my purse again to check my makeup; it looked fine. Through the mirror I saw the reflection of the fifth and last Mrs. Bruce Jones, the widow. She was standing waiting for the ushers. I shook my head in disbelief. There next to Brooke was the coffin. The ushers waited with the coffin for the minister’s signal. It had images of Bruce’s artwork. Digital photography makes it possible to decorate anything in living color. Some of the images were blocked from my view by the ushers, but not mine. There I was paraded as a nude sketch. Each one of Bruce’s loves had a color and mine was pink. It was kitsch…even worse, it was downright tasteless.

Bruce had a type. We all had brown hair, and pretty faces with full lips and straight noses. The eye color varied as did our size and build. His type was limited to our physiognomy. I clicked the compact shut, and the other ex-wives faced me, startled by the sound. I shrugged with a coy apologetic smile. Look at the five of us; he had a type.

Bruce’s love also had a shelf life. He took the seven-year-itch need to scratch very literally. Some marriages were shorter, because sometimes the divorces got complicated and his new loves always overlapped with the old. Public or private, his relationships always lasted seven years.

I was nineteen when I first walked into his classroom. He was tall and muscular. I felt a tingle at the base of my neck when I saw his back, as if somehow I already knew. When he turned to face me, I was gone and completely in love. I fell in love with Bruce and the sculpture next to him all at once. I soon learned he made love in a way no other man did─not that I was very experienced then─Bruce traced every inch of my body with every part of his. At twenty-four, he already made a good living from his sculptures, but teaching remained his passion. As he grew older and wealthier, he taught short workshops in different parts of the world. His last one had been just a few months before his untimely death. He was after all, only sixty-two.

It was clear by the careful shape of his sculptures that he knew the shape of my legs, ankles, feet, and every other part of my body. His sculpture venues varied, his talent knew no boundaries. Bruce loved and sculpted as instinctively as the rest of us breathe. Whoever inherited the rights to his art would be wise to market his sketches as limited edition lithographs. Bruce liked to keep those private, but he always added color to the sketches in a way that made them works of art unto themselves. Bruce was as gifted with hue and color as he was with shapes. Those were the sketches that someone had the poor taste to use for the coffin. As the ushers moved around I heard the reactions of the other ex-wives, a blend of gasps and giggles. We recognized all the shapes and colors.

Focused on raising our children, I had not noticed when the sculptures started to change. That was when Leslie entered the picture. Bruce may not have planned to divorce me, or at least for years I tried to believe that, but then Leslie got pregnant.

Our marriage, his first as well, was the longest marriage, it lasted ten years. Three of those, Bruce had spent loving Leslie, but playing house with me. His marriage to Leslie was far shorter. I could tell by the sculptures he had loved her for seven years. We all met him through his art in one way or another. Wife number three, Petra, worked in an art gallery. Although not an artist she was very involved with his work. I derived great pleasure from the public scandal when he hurt Leslie that way, leaving her for a mere merchant. By then Bruce had a name, an art, and a face that was recognized everywhere. Leslie had ended my marriage, so curiosity as to who had ended hers interrupted my life for a time. Hers was the only one of Bruce’s love stories I followed carefully, aside from my own.

Aside from relishing in Leslie’s pain, his personal life did not pique my interest. I knew my children were always respected and old enough to voice concern if anyone mistreated them. I could not remember if it was the third or fourth wife who was the only one of us who did not have children with Bruce.

Chopin’s somber Marche Funèbre snapped me back to the moment. The elaborate coffin encasing Bruce’s body had been placed on a movable catafalque. The catafalque with squeaky wheels carried Bruce’s body in a guided procession down the aisle. He was always a large man and had managed to become larger as he aged. His appetite for food and drink superseded all his other appetites.

Leslie whispered in my ear, “She doesn’t look sad.”

Glancing over at the person in question, I nodded in agreement. The widow could not be described as grieving. Grief is, of course, different in all of us. The body language of grief, though, is universal; the defeated, slumped shoulders, head bowed, tears flowing. Leslie was right. The widow was crying, but they almost looked like tears of relief.

A montage of Bruce’s works on a screen at the side of the altar shaped in a semicircle created the focal point. The aisle inclined and my pew toward the back provided a good vantage point. The incline was slight, but pronounced enough to give those of us in the back a full view. The ushers seemed to be holding back the coffin so it would not speed down the aisle. The wheels continued to squeak. Bruce would have hated this. The minister or priestess─I am not sure what title this universal church gave them,─had a very unpleasant voice and thus was difficult to listen to. No voice, even a pleasant one, could compete with Bruce’s art. For all the rotten things I would be happy to tell you about Bruce Jones, his art was not something anyone could criticize. Even the most prestigious critics raved about his talent and his work.

The slides were in chronological order. The memory and pain from the sting of betrayal flooded me as it had twenty-eight years earlier. I could see Leslie through the corner of my eye and the blush that betrayed her shame.

As wife number two, she had been party to betrayal because she too had been betrayed. I know Leslie grew to love my children very much. I guess she saw me as an extension of that love in some ways. I felt terrible. I had been so curt.

My hand reached to her shoulder in a gesture of solidarity and forgiveness when the images on the screen segued to show the shape of ex-wife number three. My heart ached for Leslie because we had similar builds, and many would not have been able to distinguish when Bruce transitioned from sculpting my body to sculpting hers.

Ex-wife number three, Petra─a very tall woman, with long slender limbs─had a body that blatantly displayed the transition from Leslie to her replacement. The unquestionable change in shape left no doubt Bruce’s affections had shifted again. Leslie, pregnant with her second child at the time, lost the baby to grief, a loss I also knew well.

At that point, I did need the tissues Leslie had given me, but I was shedding tears for her, not for Bruce. I miscarried a child with my second husband. I understood her pain and sense of loss. Mine, too, was the last child, the child I never had.

Bruce never sculpted pregnant women. Consequently, wife number three, the one who had never been pregnant had seven years that boasted more sculptures than the rest of us. At the seven-year mark, Bruce’s transition into a new love story, a new model. Petra’s telltale sobs showed her grasp of Bruce’s tell. After all, loving Bruce was a gamble. The change of model in the sculpture showed his change of heart. Petra was from a foreign country, I never paid much attention where. My kids interacted with her, and she welcomed them with kindness. In tandem, Leslie and I passed her the tissues.

Petra took both tissues we offered and her lips moved in a quiet whisper; the words were obviously meant for Leslie, though I could discern they were, “I am sorry”

My daughter, Clair, had always lived up to the dual meanings of her name; clear and famous. Clair could see things with great clarity, and she could convey them as such. I could only assume that she knew the ex-wives belonged together, ‘for closure and forgiveness’ as she had said.

Clair’s modeling career had started in her teens at her insistence; she was not pushed nor did anyone suggest she should model. She knew she was very attractive, and she knew she could convey her beauty and charm to an audience, a photographer, a camera.

Her modeling spun into acting. She was as natural on a screen as on a stage. It came to her with ease, though she was happy to take classes and learn. My Aaron is also successful, but he is a behind-the-scenes sort of person. I took great pride in knowing that I had always been a good mother. I had known how to allow my children to forge their own paths.

Not everything in my life succeeded, but I was a success at being a mother. I recognized Bruce’s love shelf life because I had one of my own, with a trail of the remains of ended marriages or relationships. Mine perhaps more impressive than Bruce’s.

I guess Bruce might have been the love of my life. But now in my mid-fifties, I questioned whether a spouse or companion had any viable use? I loved art, my passion, and although my work is not as popular or renowned as Bruce’s, I have achieved a certain level of success.





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M.C.V. Egan is the pen name chosen by Maria Catalina Vergara Egan. Catalina was born in Mexico City, Mexico in 1959, the sixth of eight children, in a traditional Catholic family. From a very young age, she became obsessed with the story of her maternal grandfather, Cesar Agustin Castillo--mostly the story of how he died.

She spent her childhood in Mexico. When her father became an employee of The World Bank in Washington D.C. in the early 1970s, she moved with her entire family to the United States. Catalina was already fluent in English, as she had spent one school year in the town of Pineville, Louisiana with her grandparents. There she won the English award, despite being the only one who had English as a second language in her class. In the D.C. suburbs she attended various private Catholic schools and graduated from Winston Churchill High School in Potomac, Maryland in 1977.

She attended Montgomery Community College, where she changed majors every semester. She also studied in Lyons, France, at the Catholic University for two years. In 1981, due to an impulsive young marriage to a Viking (the Swedish kind, not the football player kind), Catalina moved to Sweden where she resided for five years and taught at a language school for Swedish, Danish, and Finnish businesspeople. She then returned to the USA, where she has lived ever since. She is fluent in Spanish, English, French and Swedish.

Maria Catalina Vergara Egan is married and has one son who, together with their five-pound Chihuahua, makes her feel like a full-time mother. Although she would not call herself an astrologer she has taken many classes and taught a few beginner classes in the subject M.C.V. Egan's new series DEFINING WAYS uses Astrology and other Metaphysical tools.

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BLOGS

The Bridge of Deaths ✯ 4covert2overt A Day In The Spotlight ✯ Is History The Agreed Upon Lie? ✯ Defining Ways



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T.M. Franklin writes stories of adventure, romance, & a little magic. A former TV news producer, she decided making stuff up was more fun than reporting the facts. Her first published novel, MORE, was born during National Novel Writing month, a challenge to write a novel in thirty days. MORE was well-received, being selected as a finalist in the 2013 Kindle Book Review Best Indie Book Awards, as well as winning the Suspense/Thriller division of the Blogger Book Fair Reader's Choice Awards. She's since written three additional novels and several best-selling short stories...and there's always more on the way.


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