Karen Docter's Blog, page 144

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: HOT WINTER NIGHTS, Heartbreaker Bay Book 6 by Jill Shalvis #Christmas #Romance

[image error]KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

[image error] HOT WINTER NIGHTS

Heartbreaker Bay – Book 6

BY JILL SHALVIS

Blurb

Who needs mistletoe?

Most people wouldn’t think of a bad Santa case as the perfect Christmas gift. Then again, Molly Malone, office manager at Hunt Investigations, isn’t most people, and she could really use a distraction from the fantasies she’s been having since spending the night with her very secret crush, Lucas Knight. Nothing happened, not that Lucas knows that—but Molly just wants to enjoy being a little naughty for once . . .

Whiskey and pain meds for almost-healed bullet wounds don’t mix. Lucas needs to remember that next time he’s shot on the job, which may be sooner rather than later if Molly’s brother, Joe, finds out about them. Lucas can’t believe he’s drawing a blank on his (supposedly) passionate tryst with Molly, who’s the hottest, smartest, strongest woman he’s ever known. Strong enough to kick his butt if she discovers he’s been assigned to babysit her on her first case. And hot enough to melt his cold heart this Christmas . . .

[image error]HOT WINTER NIGHTS

Heartbreaker Bay – Book 6

BY JILL SHALVIS

Excerpt

Chapter One

It took Lucas Knight longer than it should have to realize he had a woman in his bed, but to be fair, he had a bitch of a hangover. Even worse than that, last night was a blur, prompting him to take quick stock. One, there was a bundle of sweet, soft curves against him. Two, his head was currently threatening to secede from the United States Of Lucas. And three, his side hurt like … well, like he’d been shot.

It’d been two weeks since he’d gotten caught in some crossfire on the job and he hadn’t yet been cleared for more than light duty – something he’d obviously managed to ignore last night given that he was palming a nice, warm, feminine ass.

Think, man.

Straining his brain, he remembered taking a pain med before going to O’Riley’s Pub to meet up with some friends. A client had been there, someone he’d recently helped save from a multi-million dollar corporate espionage. The guy had ordered shots to toast to Lucas and … shit. Knowing better than to mix pain meds and alcohol, he’d hesitated, but everyone had been waiting on him, glasses hoisted in the air. Thinking just one shot couldn’t hurt anything, he’d knocked back the drink.

Clearly, he’d been wrong and it’d been enough to mess him up big time, something he hadn’t been in years, not since his brother Josh had been killed. Shoving that away for another time – or never — Lucas cracked open one eye, but when his retina was stabbed by a streak of sunlight glaring in through the window, he immediately slammed it shut it again. Taking a deep breath, he told himself to suck it up and opened both eyes this time, learning two additional facts.

He was naked and completely uncovered.

And the woman snugged up at his side was rolled up in his comforter like a burrito.

What. The. Hell.

A few more images slowly began to filter into his brain. Kicking ass at the pool table and winning two hundred bucks from his boss Archer, who ran Hunt Investigations where Lucas worked as a security specialist.

Dancing with a sexy brunette…

And then making his way upstairs, but not alone.

His head was pounding too hard to remember anything more, but clearly the brunette had not only come up, but stayed. She was cuddled up too close to see her face, especially with the way she had the entire blanket wrapped around herself. The only thing visible was a mass of shiny brown waves peeking out the top.

Holding his breath, Lucas slowly pulled away until he could slide off his bed.

The brunette’s hair never so much as quivered.

Letting out a relieved breath, he shoved on the clothes he’d so thoughtfully left for himself on the floor – seriously, he was never taking another pain pill or drinking alcohol again – and headed for the door.

But unable to do it, unable to be the guy who just walked out, he stopped and detoured to his kitchen to make her a coffee. Leaving her caffeine was a nice gesture, right? Right, but … shit. He was out of coffee. Not surprisingly since he usually grabbed his from work because Molly, who ran the office at Hunt Investigations, made world-class coffee. And since one of the benefits of living on the fourth floor of the Pacific Pier Building and working on the second floor meant convenience, he texted the coffee master himself:

Any chance you’d send up a cup of coffee via the dumbwaiter?

A few seconds later, from his bedroom came a cellphone buzzing with an unfamiliar tone and he froze. If his plan was to leave before the awkward morning after – and that was always the plan — he was on borrowed time.

Since nothing came back to him from Molly, he moved onto Plan B and scrawled out a quick note: Sorry, had to get to work, take your time.

Then he hesitated. Did she even know his name? Having no idea, he added: I’m leaving cash for an Uber or Lyft – Lucas.

He dropped some money next to the note and grimaced at himself for still being a complete asshole. He stared down at his phone.

Still nothing from Molly, which meant she wasn’t going to save the day. She was smart, sharp, and amazing at her job, but for reasons unknown, she wasn’t exactly interested in pleasing anyone, especially him. Locking up, he left his apartment.

The Pacific Pier building was over a century old and sat in the center of the Cow Hollow district of San Francisco. It was five stories of corbeled brick, exposed iron trusses, and big windows built around a legendary fountain. Retail and businesses took up the ground and second floors, with residential on the third and fourth. The fifth floor penthouse belonged to his friend Spence Baldwin, who owned the building.

All of it was currently decorated for the holidays like it was about to star in a Hallmark movie.

Lucas jogged down two flights of stairs to Hunt Investigations, fully prepared to be blasted by Molly at her front desk. Not just for his text, but for his appearance at all. Off duty since the shooting, he wasn’t supposed to be back at work until next week, and that was if his doctor cleared him. But Lucas couldn’t stay home another day, a fact that didn’t have anything to do with the stranger in his bed.

Or at least not all due to the stranger in his bed.

He scrubbed a hand over his unshaved jaw, feeling incredibly tense, which for a guy who’d apparently gotten laid last night, didn’t make much sense.

Nor did the fact that sitting on a bench outside of Hunt Investigations front door were two old ladies dressed up as elves. Knitting elves.

The one on the left looked to be making a Christmas stocking. The one on the right was working on something too small to see. They smiled at him in greeting, lips coated in bright red lipstick. Left elf had a smudge of it on her teeth and her little elf cap seemed to quiver on top of her white hair.

Right Elf pulled out her phone. “I just got a text from Louise,” she told Left Elf. “It says, ‘Don’t be late for work tonight, Santa’s turned into Grinch. SMH.’” She blinked. “What does S-M-H mean?”

“Shaking my head,” Left Elf said.

“Oh thank goodness,” Right Elf said, putting a hand to her heart. “I thought it meant Sex Might Help.”

They both cackled over that before they saw Lucas. 

[image error] About Author Jill Shalvis…

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jill Shalvis writes warm, funny, sexy contemporary romances and women’s fiction. An Amazon, BN & iBooks bestseller, she’s also a two-time RITA winner and has more than 10 million copies of her books sold worldwide.

 AMAZON | B&N |iBOOKS | KOBO | GPLAY

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: WHISPERS OF WINTER, A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances by Vicki Batman ETAL #Romance #Anthology

[image error]

[image error]KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

WHISPERS OF WINTER

A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

BY Nicole Morgan, Stephanie Morris, Caitlyn Lynch, Maya Bailey, Krista Ames, Vicki Batman, Sharon Coady, Donna R. Mercer, Jan Springer, Carma Haley Shoemaker, Livia Quinn, Amber Skyze, Rebecca Fairfax, Jane Blythe, Suzanne Jenkins, Stacy Eaton, Rene Webb, Marie Mason, Joann Baker and Patricia Mason, & Karen Cino

Blurb

Winter may be rolling in, but that doesn’t mean your days and nights must be cold.

Before you get snowed in, grab yourself a copy of this limited-edition collection. With heroes and heroines of all kinds, you’ll be sure to find some that you just can’t help but fall in love with.

These romantic reads can be read as stand-alone stories. But, why would you want to do that? Read them all! Immerse yourself in this wintery ensemble from Romance Collections.

Story blurb for The Great Fruitcake Bake-off by Vicki Batman: When a five-time champion Samantha Greene teams up with her new neighbor, Dixon Roberts, for The Great Fruitcake Bake-off, they discover baking a prize-winning entry is complicated, bad guys are plotting to take the crown, and first prize isn’t just about a ribbon.

[image error]WHISPERS OF WINTER

A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

BY Nicole Morgan, Stephanie Morris, Caitlyn Lynch, Maya Bailey, Krista Ames, Vicki Batman, Sharon Coady, Donna R. Mercer, Jan Springer, Carma Haley Shoemaker, Livia Quinn, Amber Skyze, Rebecca Fairfax, Jane Blythe, Suzanne Jenkins, Stacy Eaton, Rene Webb, Marie Mason, Joann Baker and Patricia Mason, & Karen Cino

THE GREAT FRUITCAKE BAKE-OFF

BY VICKI BATMAN

Excerpt

“I’m not entering this year.” I pinned an unbreakable stare on Bethany, my co-worker and long-time friend who lived in the same apartment complex as me. Standing firm, I crossed my arms. “Period.”

We’d arrived early for work and were piddling over coffee in her cubical like we always did before diving into the nuts and bolts of company business. She rolled her eyes in the “I’m so not believing this” fashion and tweaked the Santa garland decorating her cube’s walls. “Why not, Samantha? You should be proud to be the five-time winner of The Great Fruitcake Bake-off. You’re a-a”–her words trailed off as she searched the ceiling for the ultimate in descriptive–“legend.”

I dropped my arms to twitch my black skirt in place, then I tucked my shoulder-length hair behind my ear. I let loose a long exhale, “Is being a legend in the fruitcake world a good thing?”

“What’s your point?” Bethany asked.

“Alright already, it’s exhausting. Finding the perfect recipe, then bake and exhibit it. The tension comes close to killing my holiday enjoyment. Besides”-–I shoved my finger in her direction—-“shouldn’t the love be spread? Shouldn’t somebody else win the Bake-off?”

“Oh, by golly, Sam.” Bethany’s hands covered her eyes. A few seconds passed, then she clasped them to her chest, inhaled, and composed her annoyance before saying, “We’re talking fruitcake here. It’s not groundbreaking like-like the Declaration of Independence. Or the Pyramids.”

[image error]About Author Vicki Batman…

Vicki Batman has sold many romantic comedy works to magazines, several publishers, and most recently, two humorous romantic mysteries. Along the way, she has picked up some awards and bestsellers. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, and several writing groups. Avid Jazzerciser. Handbag lover. Mahjong player. Yoga practitioner. Movie fan. Book devourer. Chocaholic. Best Mom ever. And adores Handsome Hubby. Most days begin with her hands set to the keyboard and thinking “What if??”

~~~

Links to Vicki’s website, blog, books, etc.

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GVNX2LZ/

Barnes & Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/whispers-of-winter-nicole-morgan/1129416841?ean=2940161939208/

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/whispers-of-winter-2/

Website:

http://vickibatman.blogspot.com/p/more-about-me.html/

Blog: http://www.vickibatman.blogspot.com/

Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/Vicki-Batman-sassy-writer-of-sexy-and-funny-fiction-133506590074451/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/VickiBatman/

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/vickibatman/

Author Central:

https://www.amazon.com/author/vickibatman/

Email: vlmbatman@hotmail.com/

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4814608.Vicki_Batman/

~~

[image error]**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Vicki is giving away a $5 Starbucks Gift Card to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Vicki, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Congratulations Week 08-27-18, 09-03-18, 09-10-18, & 09-17-18 Blog Giveaway Winners!

[image error]CONGRATULATIONS WEEK

08-27-18, 09-03-18, 09-10-18, & 09-17-18

BLOG GIVEAWAY WINNERS!!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Shelley Adina…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Shelley is giving away a print copy (U.S. and Canada) of THE BRIDE WORE CONSTANT WHITE to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Shelley, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: SARAH!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Terri Gregg…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Terri is giving away an autographed copy (U.S. Only) of BONES UNEARTHED to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Terri, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: EILEEN AW!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Liz Kelley…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Lyz is giving away an ebook ARC copy of her book, BITTERSWEET, to three lucky readers who comment on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog.

Thanks, Liz, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: JUDY TULLOCH, SAMANTHA McFARLAND & COLLEEN C.!

~~~

[image error]

Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Anya Summers…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Anya is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Anya, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: GLENDA M.!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Anne Louise Banner…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Anne is giving away an ebook (epub or Kinde) copy of DEATH OF THE ZANJERO to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Anne, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: BN100!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Charlene Raddon…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Charlene is giving away an ebook copy of PRISCILLA and a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Charlene, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: ELF!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Fixin’s with Stephanie Osborn…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Stephanie is giving away an ebook copy of ALPHA & OMEGA (Division One Book 1) to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Stephanie, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: KATHLEEN BYLSMA!

~~~

[image error]Karen’s Killer Book Bench with Patricia Rosemoor…

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Patricia is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Patricia, for sharing your book with us!

WINNER: EILEEN AW!

~~~

DON’T FORGET TO CHECK OUT THESE BOOKS!!
[image error] Some secrets are better left dead.

Rachel James’ ex-husband is released from prison determined to reclaim her and her little girl — the child is his key to controlling the James fortune. Frightened, Rachel flees to Denver with the child who hasn’t uttered a word since her daddy went to prison.

Contractor Patrick Thorne wants nothing to do with another of his parents’ charity cases. He failed his own wife so abysmally she took her own life as well as his unborn son’s. After two years, it’s time to concentrate on the bid he’s won and the saboteur trying to destroy his construction firm.

There is no room for trust in either of their hearts. But trust is all that will untangle the secrets that dominate their lives, free a little girl of her silent prison, and save them all from a serial killer who stands too close.

(All Karen/K.L. Docter novels have HEAs, no cliffhangers.)

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2iFFWmg

B&N: http://goo.gl/wsqVxB

Kobo: http://goo.gl/KM563U

Google Play: http://goo.gl/mogQqs

iTunes: http://goo.gl/pg58wN

[image error] In the six years since her husband was killed by S.W.A.T., Carrie Padilla has spent long hours at work, rebuilding a life for herself and her son. The little time she has at home is spent keeping her eight-year-old son out of trouble, but he is all too eager to try to be the man in the house. When a handsome cop shows up on her doorstep, her errant son in tow, Carrie’s heart stutters. The sexy Italian cop sets off all kinds of bells in her system, and she knows there’s only one thing she can do to save what is left of her family, her husband’s memory, and her heart…avoid her new neighbor at all costs.

S.W.A.T. officer Jake Stefani already lost one little boy to gang violence, the dead boy’s older brother is missing, and Jake’s not about to let the same thing happen to a neighbor’s son. He drags the youngster home only to discover much more than a passing interest in the boy’s beautiful, but wary, mother. Forced to take a leave of absence after a bust goes awry, Jake can think of nothing better to occupy his time than to keep Carrie and her son safe, and locate the missing teen who holds the key to taking the gang off the streets, once and for all.

But Jake doesn’t count on his stubborn, intriguing neighbor distracting him from his job, or the passion that flares between them. He doesn’t expect her amazing son to steal a piece of his heart. Jake is ready to risk everything for Carrie, body and soul. But it’s not all up to him. If their new love is to survive, Carrie will need to be strong enough to see the man’s beating heart behind the badge, to look beyond the pain of her past, and decide that loving again is worth the risk.

[All of Karen/K.L. Docter’s books are HEA. No cliffhangers.]

Buy Links:

Amazon US: http://goo.gl/bUHNMu

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Cop-Her-Doorstep-True-Uniform/dp/0988258668/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1497628797&sr=8-1&keywords=cop+on+her+doorstep

B&N: http://goo.gl/6uoZTd

Kobo: http://goo.gl/fd92aB

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26183834-cop-on-her-doorstep

HAPPY READING!

All giveaway winners chosen by random.org from reader comments with the exception of Rafflecopter giveaways which are determined and announced offsite by publisher/authors. Thank you!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Molten Lava Cakes

[image error]

It’s time for Karen’s Killer Fixin’s! Over the years, I’ve filled two 4-inch, 3-ring binders with my own creations as well as recipes my family and friends were willing to share with me. I simply love to cook and want to share that love with my readers. So every Friday, I share one recipe I think you and your family might enjoy. It might be a main course recipe. A cookie or baked item. Candy. Salads. Whatever strikes my eye and fancy…which today is MOLTEN LAVA CAKES!

I have three desserts that I cannot resist: cheesecake, Creme Brulee, and molten lava cake. Needless to say, I have recipes for all three for, you know, those splurge days. Like Wednesday.

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: HOT CASE, A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel by Patricia Rosemoor #Paranormal #Mystery

[image error]

[image error]KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

HOT CASE

A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel

BY PATRICIA ROSEMOOR

Blurb

A dead woman drained of blood who disappears…a detective who won’t give up the case…

Detective Shelley Caldwell finds LaTonya Sanford drained of blood—but by the time back up arrives, the body is gone. Shelley is determined to work the non-case and is sent to psych evaluation, then goes from being a homicide detective to an instructor at the police academy…

…until another dead young woman is discovered—and disappears like the first one. And this time, the only witness is Shelley’s identical twin.

Donning her sister’s identity, Shelley works as a waitress at a Goth bar and encounters things no rational detective would believe possible—and a man no earthly woman could resist. But can she trust her instincts and find the killer before she becomes the next victim?

[image error]HOT CASE

A Detective Shelley Caldwell Novel

BY PATRICIA ROSEMOOR

Excerpt

My stomach knotting, I moved toward the lump in the middle of the alley. As if the fog decided to cooperate, it rolled off the body and framed it, giving me a picture I would never forget.

She was sprawled across the alley pavement, her skirt up around her waist, panties shredded, legs spread and bruised—she’d obviously been sexually assaulted. I moved closer, my eye caught by an intricate design high on her outer thigh—a winged gargoyle. A tattoo. Even in the dim light I could see how young she was. A teenager. Just a kid. Her jaw looked as if it had been dislocated, one of her eyes rolled partly out of its socket and an ear was half ripped off.

She’d fought her attacker like hell, I thought. She’d fought and lost.

Her caramel skin was ash-pale, and I knew a person’s skin color came from the oxygen in the blood. Her body hadn’t been oxygenated in a while. Even so, I set the lantern down next to her and felt for a pulse. Her flesh was icy against my fingertips. Nothing moved inside of her.

I looked for wounds and on the inside of her arm found a nasty slash that severed the median cubital vein—the primary site used to draw blood by medical personnel. Her arm was smeared with red and the gashed flesh lay open. If she were still alive, it would have been a gusher, but it wasn’t bleeding because her heart wasn’t beating and maintaining blood pressure. No other wounds that I could see. Only that gash, meaning she must have died of blood loss.

The problem was…where had all the blood gone?

I flashed the light around through the fog, but there were only a few splotches on the ground near her arm. The short hairs at the back of my neck rose, and I tried to tell myself that this wasn’t the primary site. That she had been killed elsewhere and dumped here.

Only it didn’t look that way.

As the fog drifted over the body once more, I checked for my cell phone but couldn’t find it. I raced back to my car where I’d left it. Since I was off duty, I didn’t have a radio to call in to dispatch, so I dialed 911.

“This is Detective Shelley Caldwell, Homicide,” I said, squeezing my ears against a sudden weird, high-pitched noise. What the hell was wrong with the damn cell phone? I’d never heard anything like this before. I raised my voice as I settled back into the seat. The fog was too thick to see anything anyway. “Call Dispatch. I have a body…”

Or I’d had a body.

By the time they arrived on scene a few minutes later—uniforms followed by a case supervisor and CSI—the fog had lifted, leaving me with a few bloodstains, a book bag and nothing else.

The dead girl’s body had vanished.

[image error]About Author Patricia Rosemoor…

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Patricia Rosemoor has had 100 novels with 8 publishers and more than 7 million books in print. Always fascinated with “dangerous love,” Patricia combines romance with crime in her stories. She has won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers Choice and two Career Achievement Awards from Romantic Times BOOKreviews, and in her other life, she taught Popular Fiction and Suspense-Thriller Writing at Columbia College Chicago.

~~~

[image error]

Links to Patricia’s website, blog, books, etc.

Release Date:  9/18

99c Sale Dates – PreOrder Now through 9/25

Kindle:

https://www.amazon.com/HOT-CA SE-Detective-Shelley-Caldwell- ebook/dp/B07GV55NM4/

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/eb ook/hot-case-a-detective-shell ey-caldwell-novel

Nook:

https://www.barnesandnoble.co m/w/hot-case-patricia-rosemoor /1129424164?ean=2940155788348

iBooks:

https://itunes.apple.com/us/b ook/hot-case-a-detective-shell ey-caldwell-novel/id1434339058 ?mt=11

Smashwords:  https://www.smash words.com/books/view/891676

Website:  https://patriciarosemoor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/PatriciaRosemoorAuthor

Twitter:   @PRosemoor

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/65795.Patricia_Rosemoor

~~

[image error]**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Patricia is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Card to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Patricia, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: WOLF’S RAGE, Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series Book 9 by Lynn Nodima #Paranormal

[image error]

[image error]KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

WOLF’S RAGE

Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series Book 9

BY LYNN NODIMA

Blurb

When Violet escapes her abusive fiancé, he sends men to bring her back. The last thing she expects is to be rescued by two strange women with uncanny abilities.

With his last attempt thwarted, her fiancé kidnaps Violet’s sister and father to force her to come to him.

But he doesn’t know about her new friends. 

As Violet struggles to find a way to get her family safely home, she is stunned to learn her new friends are more than they seem.

Can she accept that vampires, werewolves, werepanthers, and werebears are real?

And when they offer to help her retrieve her family, will she trust them to help her again?

Or will her world crash around her as she loses all she’s ever had?

Author’s Note: While Wolf’s Rage is numbered on Amazon at book 9 in the Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series, the events in the book occur between books 7 and 8. I wanted to number the book as 7.5, but the system Amazon uses would not permit it.

The books can be read as stand-alones, but would be better enjoyed if read in the following chronological order:

Wolf’s Man

Wolf’s Claim

Wolf’s Mission

Wolf’s Huntsman

Wolf’s Trust

Wolf’s Reign

Wolf’s Queen

Wolf’s Rage

Wolf’s Enemy

[image error]WOLF’S RAGE

Texas Ranch Wolf Pack Series Book 9

BY LYNN NODIMA

Excerpt

Flora Garrett, werepanther clowder queen, turned first one way in front of the three-way mirror, then the other while studying the wedding gown she wore. Her panther, Leesha, hissed at the image. Flora agreed with Leesha. She wrinkled her nose and glanced at Dottie Paddock, the other bride in the double wedding ceremony coming up in less than two weeks. Not once in all her life had Flora thought she would ever wear a wedding gown. Were had mating ceremonies, not weddings.

Nate Rollins, the alpha that claimed and protected her clowder as part of his pack when the clowder was threatened, was raised human. When he married his mate, Janelle, the idea of weddings became more normal. She took another look at the gown and shook her head. “I don’t like it. It’s too . . . frilly.” She waved her hand down her body at the mountains of ruffles and ribbons.

Standing beside Flora, wearing the same gown selected by their mates-to-be, Dottie laughed and nodded. “I agree. I think we both need something a little less, um, just a little less.”

Grinning, Flora rolled her eyes. “That’ll teach us to let the sales clerk talk the men into choosing us a dress.”

“Absolutely. Or let them come with us. What say we send them shopping for groceries, or something, and look for something we like better?”

“Sounds good to me.” Flora thought for a moment, then laughed. “Nate said the ranch needs some salt blocks for the cattle he’s planning to buy at auction next month. Why don’t we send the guys after them, so we can have time to shop?”

“But the closest feed shop is . . ..” Dottie’s eyes widened, and she laughed. “That’s perfect. With traffic, they’d be gone for at least two hours.”

Arm in arm, the two women went to send the men away. Flora hummed along with the subdued, canned Christmas instrumentals wafting through the store. When they walked through the drapes into the private viewing area, Will Freyen and Ben Garrett both stood up from the upholstered bench along the wall. “See, Will, I told you those dresses would be perfect for the girls.”

At the smirk on Ben’s face, the two women exchanged glances. Flora stepped forward, gave her dad a hug, then gave Will a kiss. “You guys have great taste, but I think we’re going to just look around for a while.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at his daughter. “Great taste, huh? If it’s so great, why do you want to find something else?”

“Because,” said Dottie, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow, “it’s unlucky for the groom, or grooms, in this case, to see the gown before the wedding.”

“And,” added Flora, “Nate said he needs about a dozen salt blocks for the herd he plans to buy, so if you guys will go get them, we’ll be ready when you get back.”

Will shook his head. “Whew! I sure was hoping you wouldn’t like the dress. We thought if we picked something really, um,” he glanced at the saleswoman and winced. “Sorry.” When she harrumphed and walked away, he winked at Flora. “The dresses are really awful, aren’t they?”

Flora giggled and nodded. She cut her eyes at Dottie, then looked up at her mate-to-be and soon-to-be husband. “We don’t have to have a wedding, you know. We can just have a mating ceremony.”

“Speak for yourself, young lady.” Her widowed dad pulled Dottie to him and kissed her forehead. “I spent years living as a hum . . ..”

Dottie gave him a fierce look and cleared her throat, jerking her head toward the clerk. “And you want a big wedding, so all your former police department friends can attend.” She gave him a smile and pulled her bottom lip behind her teeth. “Does that mean you’re going to shave your head and go gray, again, like you did for Nate’s wedding?”

When Flora and Will snickered, Ben shook his head. “Nope. I’ll tell them I’m wearing a toupee and dyed my hair, so I would look young enough to be your man.” Ben retired from his position as captain of the San Antonio Police Department, Detective Division, at the beginning of the summer. His former colleagues had no clue he was a werepanther and old enough to be the grandfather of most of them. Or even their great-grandfather. Over the years he worked there, he started shaving a bald spot in the top of his head and bleaching his hair with peroxide to pretend he was getting older. As a werepanther, he would look about thirty-five until just a few decades before he died. At one-hundred-seventy-five years of age, he still had a century or so before old age would creep up on him. After quitting the force, he stopped shaving his head and let his hair return to its natural deep brown.

Dottie laughed. “I can’t wait.” She spun in front of Ben. “You don’t really like all the frills, ruffles, lace, and ribbons, do you?”

Ben peeked over his shoulder to check the location of the clerk before he made a face like he had lemon slices in his mouth and gave her a slight headshake. “I think I’ll like whatever you choose better.”

“You guys go buy some salt licks or something.” Flora grinned. “And you could find some poinsettias to decorate all the houses, too. We’ll be ready in a couple of hours.” Flora turned her head to the side, her nose in the air like spoiled royalty. She gave them a dismissive wave with two fingers, then grinned when the two men started laughing.

Careful not to crease or rip the expensive gown she wore, Will gave Flora a quick hug. “See you later, my queen.” He stepped away from her and bent into the most perfect formal bow Flora had ever seen, his arm moving in a gallant superfluous roll, his hand ending up on his chest. When he straightened up, he turned to his soon-to-be father-in-law and swept his arm across in front of himself toward the door. “After you, my prince.”

Ben gave him a regal nod, then walked out the door, snickering while Will followed him. The women managed to keep their mirth hidden behind pretend haughty expressions until the door closed behind them. Dottie snickered, then they both started laughing. Arm in arm, they returned to the dressing room to get out of the awful gowns, so they could start looking for something more . . . less.

After changing into the soft terry robes provided for them by the boutique, they wandered through the displayed gowns for nearly an hour. Finally, Dottie sighed. “I’m not sure I really want to wear white, Flora. Or off-white. Or ecru. Since this is my second mating, I think I just want a pretty gown.”

Flora thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “I think I’d rather have something different, too. Let’s go look at the bridesmaid’s dresses.”

They walked past the Christmas tree decorated in tiny satin hearts and lace to the other side of the store. Flora stopped in front of a pale turquoise gown with a sweetheart neckline. The crocheted lace cap sleeves in a matching color draped slightly below the shoulder. Floor length satin, the skirt was modified A-line with a gentle sweep. The bodice was covered with crocheted lace matching the sleeves, with tiny pearls set into the center of the floral designs.

When Flora’s breath caught, Dottie stepped up beside her. Head cocked to the side, Dottie looked at the dress for a moment, then looked at Flora as if picturing her in the gown. “It’s perfect, Flora. And it’s your favorite color, too. Try it on!”

“I will.” Flora motioned to the clerk. “Do you have this in a size 10?”

“Ma’am, you’re the bride. Wouldn’t you prefer a white gown?”

“No.” Giving her head a firm shake, Flora raised her hand toward the turquoise gown. “I like this one.”

The clerk sighed and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll check to see if we have the right size.”

When she slipped into the back warehouse, Flora rolled her eyes. “I’m the bride. If I want to wear something besides white, that’s just what I’ll do.”

Dottie grinned. “She’s probably upset about the difference in the commission she’ll make on this dress compared to the one we tried on earlier.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Flora shrugged. “But I’m not shopping for her. I’m shopping for me. And I want this dress. If I can’t have this one, I’ll go somewhere else.” Flora could hear the woman walking up behind her. “Or shop online.” When she turned to face the clerk, she knew the clerk heard her, just as she intended. It wasn’t the first time someone told her they didn’t have what she wanted just to try to get her to buy something more expensive.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the clerk said with a sigh. “We do have the dress in a 10. I’ll take it to your dressing room.” She almost hid her annoyance, but not quite. Turning to face Dottie, she smiled. “Would you like to look at another bridal gown?”

“No, thank you. I think I’ll just keep looking in here.”

“As you wish. If you find something, I’ll be happy to check and see if we have it.”

Giving her an absent nod, Dottie walked until she found a high-necked dress with a mandarin collar. Made of a light coral brocade, the gown had a fitted waist with a dark coral ribbon belt and a trumpet skirt. In the same brocade, bell sleeves came to a point at the wrist. It almost looked like a medieval gown. No pearls. No lace. No ribbon, except for the belt. Simple and elegant. A slow smile spread over her lips. Flora laughed when Dottie turned to look at her. “I love it.”

Flora waved the clerk over. “She’ll take that one in a 12.”

With a sigh, the woman nodded. “I’ll bring it to the dressing room.”

As she walked away, Flora and Dottie giggled. “I guess we have our colors, now. Turquoise and coral.”

Dottie nodded. “Let’s get shoes and see if we can get veils to match.”

“If they don’t have the veils we want, we’ll just get white and dye them the color we want.”

“That works.” Dottie followed Flora back to the dressing rooms where the gowns they chose hung on hooks on the wall.

Helping each other with the tiny fabric-covered buttons up the back of each gown, they turned to face the three-sided mirrors. For several moments, the two women just stared, then met each other’s eyes in the mirror. A happy smile draped across Flora’s lips, and Dottie grinned. “Perfect.”

Flora nodded. “Let’s get shoes and veils dyed to match. And I want matching, fingerless, elbow-length crocheted gloves.”

The clerk frowned. “We don’t carry fingerless, elbow-length crocheted gloves, Ma’am.”

With a shrug, Flora looked back at the mirror. “That’s okay.” She grinned at Dottie. “Think if I find some crochet cotton the right color Mia would have time to make me some?”

“If she was excused her other tasks, I’ll bet she would.”

Flora squealed, clapped her hands, and pulled her shoulders up almost to her ears, before dropping them again. “Let’s get our shoes and veils selected and go to the craft store.”

[image error]About Author Lynn Nodima…

Lynn learned to love telling stories from her tall-tale telling grandfather, her story-spinning father, and her mother’s round-robin storytelling games. Spinning yarns is in her blood, and she happily continues the family tradition. 

The main difference is that Lynn writes her stories down to share with people she will never meet. Lynn writes paranormal romances/adventures, fantasy, and science fiction.

~~~

Links to Lynn’s website, blog, books, etc.

Amazon:  https://amzn.to/2NodbfB

Contact Information: lynn@poguepublishing.com

Website URL: www.lynnnodima.com

Facebook Page:

https://www.facebook.com/LynnNodima/

Purchase Links:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07DCL8X42/

~~

Thanks, Lynn, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: A Very UnCONventional Christmas, Division One Book 3 by Stephanie Osborn #SciFi

[image error]

[image error]KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

A Very UnCONventional Christmas

DIVISION ONE: BOOK THREE

BY STEPHANIE OSBORN

Blurb

It’s Christmas in NYC, but for Alpha Line it’s anything but a Silent Night: The Agency has a mole, leaking classified information to toy manufacturers and film producers alike, and the Agents are in danger of losing their anonymity. To complicate matters, the Prime Minister of Lambda Andromedae III, complete with entourage, has arrived to negotiate a new trade agreement with Earth. Worse, the more paranoid Division One field agents look at Omega’s recent history with the Agency and suspect they have identified the mole!

Simultaneously, the discovery of a grim countdown in the most incongruous place possible — the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center — augers the threat of horrific events on Christmas Eve itself.

Meanwhile, Omega is struggling to adjust to her very first Christmas in the Agency, made more difficult by the exposure of parts of her past long hidden from her conscious mind.

Will Omega be able to refute the accusations, or be punished for crimes she did not commit? Will the internal conspiracy expose the Agency? Or will efforts to thwart it see Echo — and Fox — caught up in the accusations as well? What is the meaning of the countdown to Christmas Eve, and will any of Alpha Line survive it?

[image error]A Very UnCONventional Christmas

DIVISION ONE: BOOK THREE

BY STEPHANIE OSBORN

Excerpt

“Hey, Ed, come here a sec,” one of the YuleCon convention chairs called to her guest liaison.

“Yeah, Brandy? What’s up?” Ed Smith replied, detouring from his intended route to the con suite and veering over to the Ops Room door. Ed was a stocky, strong brunet of about average height, in his mid-forties, though he looked younger. His eyeglasses gave him an intellectual appearance, and his goatee a rather dashing look.

“Have you seen Doc Taylor in the last, oh, half an hour?”

“No; I left him in his last panel with Howard and Sarah and ran to the con suite to grab something to eat. I didn’t get lunch or breakfast either, and I was starved. I got there just before they cleared out the food, as it was. Then I had to run back to my room for a minute.”

“How long ago was that?”

Ed glanced at his wristwatch.

“I dunno. Maybe an hour and a half, an hour forty-five?”

“Mm,” Brandy said, thinking.

“What’s up?”

“That big panel he’s moderating this evening? We got a no-go from one of the guests. I have no idea where they went, but John apparently picked up a touch of food poisoning when he went out to dinner with that group last night, and he can’t get outta his bathroom, let alone leave the hotel room.”

“Shit!”

“Pretty much, from what I understand. Some puking, too.”

“Ooo, that was cold, Brandy!” They laughed.

“Well, you started it! Anyway, I need you to find Travis and give him a heads-up that John won’t be there. I know he kinda had a loose plan for how the discussion was supposed to go, so I need to know, like, ASAP, if I need to grab a substitute from the rest of our pool of guests. I’ve only got about two and a half, three hours, before that panel starts, and I’ll need to juggle some stuff in the schedule to find a substitute.”

“Oh! All right, I’m on it. I’ll track him down, tell him what happened, and get back with you in the next…” Ed glanced at his watch again, “if it takes me an hour, I’ll be surprised.”

“Good man! Thanks!”

And Ed headed off, to track down YuleCon’s Author Guest of Honor, Travis S. Taylor.

* * *

“Okay, he wasn’t in the con suite; he wasn’t in the green room,” Ed muttered to himself, twenty minutes later, rushing through the hotel. “He wasn’t in the dealer’s room or art show. He wasn’t in his hotel room. He’s not in the hotel restaurant OR the bar.” He shook his head. “I ain’t got a clue where the hell he is!”

He abruptly stopped dead in the lobby, and three fen promptly ran into him from behind. Quick apologies were exchanged all around, and the fans moved on, as Ed stood where he was and pondered where to look next.

“Maybe he’s sitting in on somebody else’s panel,” he decided. “I’ll just stick my head in the back of all the programming rooms and check.”

He headed off to the convention center area to look.

* * *

Ed started at one end of the row of programming rooms and systematically worked his way down and around the corner. He eased open each door, nodded at the moderator as he slipped inside, then stood silently in the back, looking for a certain familiar dishwater-blond head with ginger highlights. Upon failing to spot it, he nodded to the moderator again, and slipped out, heading to the next room.

He got to the corner of the L-shaped convention center and went around it, checking the last room that he knew had active programming. There were two more rooms past that, carved out of a ballroom, but no panels were scheduled in them for that time of day. Consequently, Ed fully expected them to be locked.

“Still,” he considered, “I oughta go check. It’d be just the sorta thing for him to drag some fans off for a long technical discussion, if somebody left one ‘a the doors ajar. And it ain’t like I don’t have the keys, anyway.”

So he headed down the broad corridor toward the nearest door.

* * *

But when he reached it, he could indeed hear voices coming from inside. Ed took hold of the door knob, but it was firmly locked.

Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the special key ring for the hotel, selected one of the master keys, and stuck it in the lock. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, prepared to tell Travis that he was needed and to quit hiding out with a brew—

—And stopped dead, gaping.

The two rooms had been merged into the full ballroom; the tables for the panelists had been rearranged to form a long central table, and around that table, and at several chairs along the periphery, sat an entire phalanx of people in costume, from black Suits to chartreuse, betentacled, three-eyed aliens.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here! These rooms are supposed to be closed to all convention members when not in use! Are you with that film or something?” Ed demanded to know.

One of the people wearing black Suits, a strapping, middle-aged blond man, pushed back from the table and stood up, moving toward Ed, who stood his ground despite the fact that the man was intimidating as hell…and easily a head taller than Ed, who was not especially short.

“May I help you?” the man asked, in a soft, cultured, European accent.

“Um, you haven’t seen Dr. Travis Taylor, have you?”

“No, we have not. Is there anything else we can do to assist you?

“You can help me by getting outta here before I have to call Security,” Ed said, stern. “I don’t care who the hell you are, or if you’re from Hollywood or what! This facility is supposed to have been contracted exclusively for YuleCon’s use this weekend! And I’m on the con comm, and I’ve never seen any of you before in my life! If you’re practicing for the masquerade competition, you’ll just have to practice someplace else! Now, c’mon, get moving!”

The man in the black Suit glanced back at the others.

“I believe we shall have to do just that,” he said, reaching into his jacket pockets with both hands. Behind him, the others all produced some sort of odd-looking wraparound sunglasses, putting them on and staring at him in silence; the aliens just looked odd to Smith, with their three-eyed spectacles. The man slipped on his own pair of glasses, then waved a cell phone in Ed’s face. There was a multicolored flash of light…

* * *

Ed found himself back in the broad corridor of the convention center, wondering how he’d managed to nod off while standing up. He looked around; the current hour’s panels had not yet ended, but he’d checked all of them, and Dr. Taylor was not there. Nothing was left except the two ballroom segments.

“But they should be locked. Still,” he considered, “I oughta go check. It’d be just the sorta thing for him to drag some fans off for a long technical discussion, if somebody left one ‘a the doors ajar. And it ain’t like I don’t have the keys, anyway.”

So he headed down the broad corridor toward the nearest door.

* * *

But when he reached it, he could indeed hear voices coming from inside. Ed took hold of the door knob, but it was firmly locked.

Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the special key ring for the hotel, selected one of the master keys, and stuck it in the lock. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, prepared to tell Travis that he was needed and to quit hiding out with a brew—

—And stopped dead, gaping.

The two rooms had been merged into the full ballroom; the tables for the panelists had been rearranged to form a long central table, and around that table, and at several chairs along the periphery, sat an entire phalanx of people in costume, from black Suits to chartreuse, betentacled, three-eyed aliens.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here! These rooms are supposed to be closed to all convention members when not in use! Are you with that film or something?” Ed demanded to know.

One of the guys in an alien costume, dressed in rather more opulent clothing than the other alien costumes, turned to a strapping, middle-aged blond male in a black Suit.

“Did we not just do this?” the guy in the alien costume wondered.

Ed watched in amazement as everyone donned odd-looking wraparound sunglasses, in despite of the fact that the room had no windows. The blond man rose and hurried toward him, pulling a smart phone from his pocket.

There was a multicolored flash of light…

* * *

Sugar pulled his actual smart phone from one pocket as he dropped his brain bleacher into another. He activated it with a couple of swipes, then waited for the other party to answer.

“Yes, Echo, this is Sugar. We have a little problem here. Yes, someone with the convention has come looking for Dr. Taylor, and he has a key to the room. Of course I brain-bleached him…for the second time just now. Can you gather up your Alpha Line team and send them out, find Taylor, and bring him down here as soon as possible? I think if the man could actually be sent off with Taylor, we’d be good. But he is systematic, and keeps coming back here to search. Yes, he would be…but that’s up to you lot. My team and I have a treaty to negotiate. Of course, if the Director wants to help you look, that is his business. But if this ‘Ed’ person—according to his con badge—shows up many more times, it is going to look like a Keystone Kops routine down here. Yes? Excellent; thank you, my friend.”

Sugar looked up at the Prime Minister and his entourage.

“My apologies about that, all. Alpha Line has gone to find Taylor, and they’ll bring him down to the man in the hall. That should solve our problem.”

“Let us hope so,” the Prime Minister noted, seeming peeved. “We have had interruptions enough aplenty.”

* * *

Ed found himself back in the broad corridor of the convention center, wondering why he felt so very strange, almost light-headed. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with con crud, the ubiquitous, influenza-like disease that so often plagued such large groups of people.

He looked around; the current hour’s panels had not yet ended, but he’d checked all of them for Dr. Taylor. Nothing was left except the two ballroom segments.

“But they should be locked. Still,” he considered, “I oughta go check. It’d be just the sorta thing for Doc Taylor to drag some fans off for a long technical discussion, if somebody left one ‘a the doors ajar. And it ain’t like I don’t have the keys, anyway.”

So he headed down the broad corridor toward the nearest door.

* * *

But when he reached it, he could indeed hear voices coming from inside. Ed took hold of the door knob, but it was firmly locked.

Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the special key ring for the hotel, selected one of the master keys, and stuck it in the lock. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, prepared to tell Travis that he was needed and to quit hiding out with a brew—

—And stopped dead, gaping.

The two rooms had been merged into the full ballroom; the tables for the panelists had been rearranged to form a long central table, and around that table, and at several chairs along the periphery, sat an entire phalanx of people in costume, from black Suits to chartreuse, betentacled, three-eyed aliens.

“Who are you and what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be—wait a minute…” Ed swayed, dizzy.

“Again?” said the important-looking alien. “Perhaps you should take him farther away this time.”

Ed watched in amazement as everyone donned odd-looking wraparound sunglasses, in despite of the fact that the room had no windows. A tall blond man rose and hurried toward him, pulling a smart phone from his pocket.

There was a multicolored flash of light…

* * *

Back in the ballroom, Sugar, the head of the Agency’s Diplomacy department, sat back down, mildly annoyed. He pulled his actual smart phone, activated it, and waited for the other party to answer.

“Echo? Yes, it’s Sugar again. Yes, that’s the third time now. We REALLY need for you lot to find Dr. Taylor and bring him down here before I have to brain-bleach this man into nappies or some such thing. No, I don’t know how they work! I’m a diplomatic negotiator, not a neuro-engineer!”

“Perhaps,” Tortok suggested, “we should make the annoying human disappear permanently? It would solve a great many problems at the moment.”

“NO!” Sugar exclaimed. “Echo! Did you hear that? Yes! You and Omega have GOT TO FIND TAYLOR! No, I don’t know WHAT the deuced man wants, I just know he’s looking for Taylor! No, I don’t even know Taylor. Look, just find him as soon as you can, and get him down here, preferably five minutes ago. Yes, thank you!”

A distracted Sugar raked his hand through his short pale locks, and pondered what to do next. He looked up to see the Prime Minister scowling.

Just then, a key rattled in the door’s lock, and the door opened.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Ed Smith demanded to know.

“Oh, damn it all to hell and back,” Sugar grumbled, rising and putting on his goggle-glasses.

[image error]About Author Stephanie Osborn…

Stephanie Osborn, aka the Interstellar Woman of Mystery, former rocket scientist and author of acclaimed science fiction mysteries, goes back to the urban legend of the unique group of men and women who show up at UFO sightings, alien abductions, etc. and make the evidence…disappear…to craft her vision of the universe we don’t know about—the universe containing a galactic civilization and government, of which Earth is a provisional member. Her new series, Division One, chronicles this universe through the eyes of recruit Megan McAllister, aka Omega, and her experienced partner, Echo, as they handle everything from lost alien children to extraterrestrial assassination attempts and more.

Division One books, in order:

Alpha & Omega
A Small Medium At Large
A Very UnCONventional Christmas
Tour de Force
Trojan Horse
Texas Rangers
Definition & Alignment

Coming soon:

Phantoms (book 8 – October 2018)

Head Games (book 9 – Winter 2019)

Break, Break Houston (book 10 – Spring 2019)

with more planned.

I also hope to release the adjuncts to the series, The Division One Agents Handbook and The Division One Cookbook. Can’t promise on those yet.

~~~

Links to Stephanie’s website, blog, books, etc.

Paperback:  https://amzn.to/2MIlgqc

Ebook:  https://amzn.to/2NlIRCj

Website: http://www.stephanie-osborn.com/

Amazon author page:

https://www.amazon.com/Stephanie-Osborn/e/B0026DM46M/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1429811278&sr=8-1

~~

[image error]**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Stephanie is giving away an ebook copy of ALPHA & OMEGA (Division One Book 1) to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Stephanie, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Karen’s Killer Book Bench: PRISCILLA, The Widows of Wildcat Ridge Book 1 by Charlene Raddon #Historical

KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

~~

PRISCILLA

The Widows of  Wildcat Ridge Book 1

BY CHARLENE RADDON

Blurb

After losing her father and husband in a mine disaster, Priscilla Heartsel faces poverty and eviction from her home by a heartless mine owner. Tricked into a bank robbery gone wrong, Braxton Gamble finds himself shot and unconscious in Priscilla’s bed. Can they survive long enough to find a love more precious than gold? A sweet read.

~~~

PRISCILLA

The Widows of  Wildcat Ridge Book 1

BY CHARLENE RADDON

April 9, 1844, Wildcat Ridge, Utah

Priscilla Heartsel wiped her bloody fingers on her long, filthy dress. She was kneeling in a hole, one of several she had dug with her own hands, seeking, searching….

Papa. Robert, where are you?

She sat back on her heels and glanced around. Several other women and children remained on the hill of rubble that, earlier that day, had been a working gold mine. The Lucky Lady. What a travesty.

“Priscilla?”

Her friend, Thalia, climbed the ragged hill toward her, holding her skirts up out of the dirt.

“You need to go home and sleep, Priscilla,” Thalia said when she reached her. “You need to eat.”

“No. I have to find Robert and Papa.” She began clawing at the earth again and uncovered a shoe. Brown, not black like Robert’s. Not Papa’s either. She thought of the smile her husband had given her that morning as she’d tied his shoes before he left for his law office. If only he’d stayed there.

Why did you have to come to the mine? Why didn’t you stay here? With me? Wasn’t it bad enough that I lost Papa? Why did I have to lose you, too?

Thalia grabbed her wrists to stop her. “They’re gone. They’re all gone. All our men, some of the women and even children. Gone.”

Priscilla managed one word. “Jeffrey?”

Thalia nodded, and a tear escaped to run down her cheek.

Priscilla pulled her friend into her arms. Poor Thalia and Jeffrey were to be married in May. Priscilla wanted to cry. For Thalia, for herself, for all the widows and children left behind by this horrible, horrible tragedy. The need was a pain in her chest, in her throat. Her entire body felt ready to explode from withholding her grief.

Grown women do not cry, Priscilla. We keep our emotions to ourselves. No one wants to hear about your pain. They have their own.

Thalia drew away, tears raining down her cheeks now, but kept hold of Priscilla’s grubby hands. Looking down at them, Priscilla noticed her wedding ring was gone.

Meet Author Charlene Raddon…

Charlene likes to say she began her fiction career in the third grade when she told the class, during Show and Tell, that a black widow spider came down from the garage roof and bit her (non-existent) little sister to death.

After two years of college as a fine arts major, and a divorce, she moved to Utah, planning to wow the world with her watercolor landscapes—until her sister introduced her to romance novels. She never picked up a paint brush again.

Originally published by Kensington in the ‘90s, Charlene is an Indie author now. She writes western historical romance, except for one contemporary fantasy she hasn’t published yet. It’s a frog princess story about a man napping beside a pond. He awakens when a frog jumps on his chest. The frog kisses him. Suddenly, he has a naked medieval princess sprawled over him. Charlene has a vivid imagination and a romantic soul.

Please excuse Charlene now. She just heard a husky whisper from one of the dusty, shadowed corners of her office. Someone’s lurking there, someone long, lanky and lascivious, beckoning to her. She has no intention of playing coy.

~~~

Links to Charlene’s website, blog, books, etc.

Website: http://charleneraddon.com

Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/author//1232...

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddon

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B000APG1P8

Her book cover site is http://silversagebookcovers.com.

~~

**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Char is giving away an ebook copy of PRISCILLA and a $10 Gift Certificate to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog.

Thanks, Charlene, for sharing your book with us!

Don’t miss the chance to read this book!

Test

Testing

Karen’s Killer Fixin’s: Broiled Chuck Steak with Herbs

[image error]

It’s time for Karen’s Killer Fixin’s! Over the years, I’ve filled two 4-inch, 3-ring binders with my own creations as well as recipes my family and friends were willing to share with me. I simply love to cook and want to share that love with my readers. So every Friday, I share one recipe I think you and your family might enjoy. It might be a main course recipe. A cookie or baked item. Candy. Salads. Whatever strikes my eye and fancy…which today is BROILED CHUCK STEAK WITH HERBS!

It’s been awhile since I’ve had the opportunity to share one of my own recipes on Killer Fixin’s and I thought it would be nice to share a quick and easy chuck steak recipe. You can do this one on the barbecue grill but be careful to watch for flare ups with the butter and oil mixtures. It is easier to control the cooking process in the oven. Serve with a crisp salad and some hot bread and you’ve got a great fall meal.

I hope you enjoy today’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!

Karen

P.S. We’re at 389 recipes and counting with this posting. Hope you find some recipes you like. If this is your first visit, please check out past blogs for more Killer Fixin’s. In the right-hand column menu, you can even look up past recipes by type. i.e. Desserts, Breads, Beef, Chicken, Soups, Author Specials, etc.

BROILD CHUCK STEAK WITH HERBS

¼ cup butter

1 tsp. dried marjoram

1 tsp. basil

1 tsp. thyme

4 ¼ to 5 lb. beef round chuck steak

unseasoned meat tenderizer

¼ cup oil

¼ cup lemon juice

½ tsp. salt

½ tsp. pepper

In bowl, combine butter with marjoram, basil and thyme. Make ½-inch cuts in steak, 1½-inch apart. Fill each cut with ¼ tsp. butter mixture.

Reserve rest of butter. Sprinkle steak with meat tenderizer.

Combine oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Place steak on broiler racks. Brush with 2 T. oil mixture. Broil, 5” from heat 20 minutes. Turn and brush with more oil mixture. Broil 20 minutes more. (For rare.)

Happy Eating!