Karen Docter's Blog, page 214
May 12, 2016
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** with Ruth A. Casie
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s
**AUTHOR SPECIAL**
with RUTH A. CASIE!
Welcome to my Friday bonus feature called Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special**!! Today, in lieu of one of my own recipes, I’m going to introduce you to a new author who will share one of her favorite recipes. Not only will you and I occasionally learn how to make something new and delicious, but we’ll get a chance to check out some wonderful authors. Introducing author, RUTH A. CASIE, and her favorite recipe for REBEKA’S SALMON with BROWN SUGAR GLAZE.
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KNIGHT OF RAPTURE
A Druid Knight Story
BY RUTH A. CASIE
Blurb
He crossed the centuries to find her…
For months Lord Arik has been trying to find the right combination of runes to create the precise spell to rescue his wife, Rebeka, but the druid knight will soon discover that reaching her four hundred years in the future is only the beginning of his quest. He arrives in the 21st century to find her memory of him erased, his legacy on the brink of destruction, and traces of dark magick at every turn.
A threat has followed…
Bran, the dark druid, is more determined than ever to get his revenge. His evil has spread across the centuries. Arik will lose all. Time is his weapon, and he’s made sure his plan leaves no one dear to Arik, in past or present, safe from the destruction.
But their enemy has overlooked the strongest magick of all…
Professor Rebeka Tyler is dealing with more than just a faulty memory. Ownership of Fayne Manor, her home, has been called into question. Convenient accidents begin happening putting those she cares for in the line of fire. And then there’s the unexpected arrival of a strange man dressed like he belonged in a medieval fair—a man who somehow is always around when needed, and always on her mind. She doesn’t know who to trust. But one thing is certain. Her family line and manor have survived for over eleven centuries. She won’t let them fall, not on her watch… in any century.
KNIGHT OF RAPTURE
A Druid Knight Story
BY RUTH A. CASIE
Excerpt
She took another step and past the stone marker.
The air chilled and the sky turned an array of colors. Everything around her began to swirl. She realized her mistake too late. The portal, she was in the portal.
Arik. Close to him now, she reached for him but her hand passed through the form. She examined her hand turning it over then spotted the shadow of the man.
An illusion?
The shadow turned towards her. She watched as the wind washed over his face and it changed. “Bran,” she whispered in disbelief. Her head swiveled while she searched for something, anything to grab on to. The portal had one use and she had no intention of leaving.
Get out, her brain shouted.
His lips twisted into a cynical sneer. He tilted his head in jaunty satisfaction, snapped his fingers and vanished.
“No,” she yelled. “Arik,” she closed her eyes and screamed in her head trying to mind touch him while the wind tore at her.
“Beka,” he boomed.
Her eyes snapped open. She shielded them from the dust and debris and stared at Arik on the other side of the opening. He stood at the high plateau, miles away. His hands were braced on the opening’s edges, which were nothing more than solid streams of whirling wind. He struggled to keep the portal from closing.
“Come.” His voice didn’t allow for any argument.
The wind whipped at her, pushed her back. She tried again. “I can’t. The wind. Keeps. Pushing. Me. Away.” She shoved her staff in front of her and anchored it in the ground. Against the gusting wind, pulled herself towards him.
“A little more, Beka.” He gripped the edge of the portal with one hand and stretched the other out to her. She shoved her hand towards him as far as she could. The tips of their fingers brushed. In a burst of effort he caught the top of her hand, a precarious hold. With a tight grasp she wrapped her fingers around his thumb.
Safe, she wasn’t far now.
She concentrated on his face. The corners of his mouth turned up as he pulled her towards safety. The wind grew stronger buffeting around them then changed its path.
Before she could brace herself for the new direction, the gust blasted them. Without a firm grip, her hand began to slip. She pushed through the building panic. His smile slipped. The expression on his face turned to determination. Again her hand slipped until he held her by her fingertips.
He held them fast—crushing them but that didn’t matter. He had to hold on to her. Every muscle strained. Inch by inch he brought her closer to him. She tried to help him the best way she could. Anchored to the edge of the portal, Arik encouraged her on. But his alternatives were limited. The closer she got to him, the stronger the gale blew. Just a little closer, that’s all she needed for Arik to grab her and get her out of the portal.
The wind exploded from another direction.
The blasting gale pushed her staff away from the opening, across the dirt, cutting an ugly scar in the ground and dragging her away with her staff.
Away from Arik.
About Author Ruth A. Casie…
Storyteller | Blogger | Creative Thinker | Dreamer | Good Sport | Teammate
You might be wondering what I’m about. Sit back and let me tell you.
I’m happiest when I’m telling stories either chatting in a group or writing them down. I love to put my hero and heroine in tough situations and dare them to work it out—together, always together. They haven’t disappointed me. Oh, they complain but in the end their love and relationships are stronger than ever.
While I keep tormenting my druid knight, I’m outlining a new series. The working title is the River of Time. It’s about an elite technology security officer, whose job is to eliminate time travelers, but falls in love with a time traveling art appraiser and has to choose between his duty and his one chance for a timeless love. I love this story line because it lets me stretch my contemporary voice while working in historic time periods. I think this is the best of both worlds.
For most of you, my contemporary side will be a surprise. Here are five other things you probably don’t know about me.
I filled my passport up in one year.
I worked for a large financial institution and before webinars and Skype as a product manager I visited with clients and potential clients. My sales support program took me to almost every European country (sorry not Liechtenstein) as well as a good sampling in Asia and South America. Have I got some travel stories!
I have a medieval romance story about the seventh sons of a seventh son.
Only one book is published. The others are in various stages of draft. The heroine of the published book, The Guardian’s Witch, was born with veil over her face. It’s called a caul. Throughout history, these caulbearers are believed to have a special purpose—to serve mankind, guide people to understand themselves and the world within which they live. Many cultures believe this makes the child “King by right” with special powers ranging from leadership abilities to natural healers and having greater insight. I was born with caul. I’m still trying to figure out my power.
I did a rap to “How Many Trucks Can a Tow Truck Tow If a Tow Truck Could Tow Trucks.”
I was a guest reader at my son’s first grade class (he’s out of college and on his own now). I rapped the book while my son was my boom box. We had a great time.
When I cook I dance.
Our kitchen isn’t large but ever since Paul (my DH) and I have taken ballroom dance lessons I practice between the fridge, the stove, and the table.
My Sudoku book is in the bathroom.
I’m not saying anything else about that.
I’d love to hear from you. Catch me on Twitter at @RuthACasie, you can drop me a line at Ruth@RuthACasie.com or visit me on FaceBook at RuthACasie
~~~
Links to Ruth’s Website, Books, & Social Media:
Buy Links:
Amazon:
Knight of Rapture: a Druid Knight Story
Amazon Print: http://amzn.to/1EN0Hhk
KOBO: http://bit.ly/1NaqW7Q
iBook: http://apple.co/1M5o92x
Twitter: @RuthACasie
Website: Ruth@RuthACasie.com
FaceBook: RuthACasie
I hope you enjoy the recipe Ruth is sharing with us today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!
Karen
P.S. We’re at 259 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.
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REBEKA’S SALMON with BROWN SUGAR GLAZE
Ingredients:
¼ cup packed light brown sugar
2 Tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 Tablespoons chopped fresh dill (or 2 teaspoons dried)
4 (6 ounce) salmon fillets
Salt and Pepper
Instructions:
Preheat the broiler
Spray the rack of a broiler pan with nonstick spray
Mix the brown sugar, mustard and dill together in a small bowl.
Salt and pepper both sides of the salmon and place on the broiler pan and spoon the brown sugar glaze on top. (You will not use all of it – it keeps forever in the fridge)
Position the broiler pan about 7 inches from the heat and broil just until its opaque, about 6 minutes
NOTE: Don’t turn the fillet. The glaze works well on chicken and pork.
Story about recipe:
This is a favorite recipe of our bookish scholarly heroine, tossed back to the 17th century. Rebeka was ecstatic when she found the ingredients for this recipe on Doward’s wagon (the traveling tradesman). Imagine her surprise when Lord Arik brought home a fine salmon along with a strong appetite. She couldn’t wait to tempt him with her offering(s). Luckily for both of them, this recipe takes less than ten minutes. This is the 21st century version.
PS…Rebeka served the salmon to Arik in the Great Hall. Tantalized, he licked the sticky glaze from his fingers never taking his eyes off of her. But that’s a totally different story.
PPS…My son, Ari, makes this recipe whenever he wants to impress his roommates, their parents, his current lady friend. With a side of whipped potatoes and a vinaigrette salad, all you need is a decadent chocolate cake to finish off the meal.
~~~
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Ruth is giving away one digital copy of KNIGHT OF RAPTURE to one lucky reader who comments on her Karen’s Killer Fixin’s blog. Thank you, Ruth, for sharing your story and recipe with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 11, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Silent Hearts (A Hamilton Stables Novel) by Melissa West
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!
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SILENT HEARTS
A Hamilton Stables Novel
BY MELISSA WEST
Blurb
Nick Hamilton has always known he’d take the reins of the family business when his father died, but that doesn’t make it any easier when the time comes. Especially with his two siblings tempted by a shrewd offer from a huge corporation to buy Hamilton Industries. Needing advice, Nick turns to his sensible childhood friend, Becca Stark—and finds her suddenly grown-up beauty ignites brand-new confusion, and crystal clear desire…
Becca has loved Nick for as far back as she can remember, but she decided long ago that telling him would be a mistake. Stubborn, strong Nick doesn’t see her as anything but the tomboy she used to be—or does he? As she helps him untangle his feelings about the ranch’s future, the familiar bond between them heats into an explosive attraction—and the kind of love that just might take the lead…
SILENT HEARTS
A Hamilton Stables Novel
BY MELISSA WEST
EXCERPT
“I think that’s the real reason I don’t want to sell the business. If I sell, then it’s like Dad’s really gone.”
“But, Nick…he is gone. Selling or not won’t change that fact. It sucks and I wish with all my heart it weren’t true, but it is, and you can’t keep living your life by the code of WWCD.”
“WWCD?’
“You know—What Would Carter Do?”
Nick rolled his eyes. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you? It was one summer, one WWJD bracelet. They were trendy.”
“So were fanny packs, but you didn’t see me wearing one.”
He chuckled softly. “Touché, though I think you’d look hot as hell in a fanny pack.”
“Yeah, not happening, but don’t you think it’s funny that ‘hot as hell’ is meant as a compliment when ‘you look like hell’ is an insult? I mean, what’s that about? It’s interesting, right?”
“No, not even a little bit.”
Now it was Becca’s turn to laugh. “Want to stay for dinner?”
“Nah, I want to go out.”
Suddenly, Becca remembered what Alex and Kate had hinted at earlier, and she pulled her hand free from his, ignoring the confusion that crossed his face. “Right. Alex and Kate mentioned something about that.”
“About what? Wait, when did you see Alex and Kate?”
“They were at the diner this morning.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t want to go get something to eat? I’ll buy. Just in case you forgot, I’m loaded.” He flashed her that Crest commercial smile of his.
“Loaded with arrogance. But seriously, what about…?” Becca trailed off, hoping Nick would fill in the gap, but all he did was cock his head.
Though, really, did it matter if he were seeing someone? They were friends. Best friends. And friends had dinner together all the time. It was fine, natural, but then why didn’t he tell her that he’d met someone, and why didn’t he go to this new chick’s house to talk out his issues instead of hers? And why hadn’t he introduced her to this woman? Or maybe he was embarrassed to introduce Becca, the waitress, to what was sure to be a fancy, rich kind of lady.
“Bec?”
“What?”
“Dinner?”
“Right.” Becca swallowed hard and tried to push aside the ache in her chest, the sadness working its way through her stomach. “Sure. Just let me change.”
Nick thumbed the hem of her shorts. “Why? I like these. They’re like bathing suit bottoms or something?”
Becca swatted his hand. “Shorts, asshole. They’re called shorts.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m changing for sure now.”
Nick huffed loudly and made a show of getting up. “All right, all right. I’ll help you get undressed. You don’t have to yell at me about it.”
Becca grinned and pushed him back down. “You are so stupid.”
“You love me.”
“I do,” Becca said.
If only you knew how much.
Meet Author Melissa West
… 
Melissa West writes heartfelt Southern romance and teen sci-fi romance, all with lots of kissing. Because who doesn’t like kissing? She lives outside of Atlanta, GA with her husband and two daughters and spends most of her time writing, reading, or fueling her coffee addiction.
~~~
Links to Melissa’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1T3jRuC
Barnes & Noble: http://goo.gl/uRqgjF
iBooks: https://goo.gl/bw5FHF
Kobo: https://goo.gl/8Myq0T
Website: www.melissawestauthor.com
~~~
Thank you, Melissa, for sharing your story with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 10, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Touch of Fire (A Magic, New Mexico Kindle World Story) by Michele Callahan
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!
~~
TOUCH OF FIRE
A Magic, New Mexico Kindle World Story
BY MICHELE CALLAHAN
Blurb
A trip with friends turns into a nightmare of epic proportions when a magic spell forces Kayla Evans to take an unexpected detour to nowhere-ville, New Mexico. The small town is full of crazies, mischievous baby fairies, talking animals and one hot hunk of a man who just won’t leave her alone. In fact, he’s following her everywhere, stealing kisses, and making her want a little crazy of her own. But Kayla has a life, and living in the middle of a desert is not her idea of a good time, even if it does come with one amazing, and sexy benefit – a sexy fire elemental determined to melt her socks off.
To the rest of the world, ancient mythology is just that, fairy tales. But for Xander and his magical brothers, it’s all too real. Born into a long line of powerful but cursed men, he is destined to wait for the goddess to summon a mate for him using a powerful magical spell. When the magic summons sassy and willful Kayla, Xander faces the ultimate test. Kayla may not be able to resist his seduction, but Xander craves more than physical pleasure, he is determined to claim her heart.
TOUCH OF FIRE
A Magic, New Mexico Kindle World Story
BY MICHELE CALLAHAN
EXCERPT
Xander Davis rubbed the center of his aching chest with the flat of his hand and wondered when his mother would decide to take pity on him. He’d fulfilled the conditions of the curse. His home was ready for a mate. He was ready…
Rising from the floor of the red desert all around him, his home looked more like a hundred-year-old Spanish hacienda than a brand new structure built by blood and sweat and magic. Sage, cactus and rock surrounded him on all sides. Here and there a particularly determined patch of tall grass fought for survival. His home fit into the barren landscape as if it had always been here. Just a few minutes away was a small town filled with both humans and magical creatures that simply wanted to live their lives in peace. He was drawn to this place, to its power. Upon arrival he had purchased this land and worked day and night to build this house for her.
His mate.
One small problem. He had no idea who she was.
He and his new mate would fit right into this community. He already had taken a job as a local fireman. He had begun to get to know the townspeople—from vampires, dwarves, witches, werewolves and fairies. Xander was sure there were more magical creatures he had yet to meet. And he wanted to meet them all, if he lived long enough. Now that the mating curse had been activated, he was running out of time.
A high, keening cry came from over the top of one of the desert mesas and he lifted his gaze to the pure azure sky as a small dragon flew toward him.
The dragon flew straight to him and landed on the small pebbles that lined his new driveway. He met his mother twice before, once the day his fire magic had nearly burned down his home, and at his father’s funeral three years ago. That was the day she had told him all about her wretched past and about the curse she had cast on her sons because of it.
That was the day he’d truly grown to despise her.
“Xander. It is time.” The dragon’s voice wasn’t much different than his mother’s voice in human form. Power and magic floated with her words, like heat followed sunlight. His mother’s traveling form was about the size a large horse with wings would be, but she was much more beautiful. Her scales glittered with the colors of the sea. Green and blue scales in every shade imaginable shimmered in the sunlight. Her eyes, whether in human form or dragon, were the color of water frozen in a glacier, and her talons and teeth were a deep midnight blue, nearly as black as he imagined the depths of the sea to be.
He had never seen the depths of the sea, not like some of his half-brothers. He was a child of his mother’s fire form. Water was fine, in small doses, but he had no interest in going swimming. Ever.
“Mother.”
She sat on her haunches and curled her tail around her feet, the diamond-hard tip flipping up and down off the ground like an irritated cat’s tail. “Is this your home?”
He sighed, resigned to playing her game. If he did not, he would be left with this hollow, aching heart until his death. “Yes, Mother. Would you like to see inside?”
“No, son. I’ve come to give you a heart stone.” The dragon lifted one giant eyebrow as if he were the biggest idiot on the face of the Earth. He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest so he wouldn’t appear intimidated, or overly eager for her gift.
“Thank you, Mother.” It never paid to piss off a mythical sea nymph, nor a goddess even if she was one’s own mother.
His mother nodded like a queen and lifted her front foot up to her large maw. With a deep breath, she breathed fire, hot dragon’s fire, over her own clawed foot for several seconds.
The heat drew him forward, so powerful. So pure. He had inherited the fire magic within him from her, just as she had bestowed other magics upon his many half-human brothers. She could take four forms and commanded all four elements—earth, air, fire and water. Depending upon her mood when she seduced her mortal lovers, her offspring, always sons, inherited one of her gifts.
They also inherited her curse.
He could not fall in love without a heart stone. Once his mate was summoned by a heart stone’s magic, he would have one cycle of the moon to win the woman’s love forever, or die alone. Even more daunting, the woman had to choose to stay with him of her own accord.
He had dreaded this day for years, but now all he could think about was finding her. Seducing her. Winning her heart.
Xander watched in awe as a dark red stone took shape amidst the dragon’s fire.
Meet Author Michele Callahan
… 
A #1 Amazon Bestseller, M.L. (Michele) Callahan is a science fiction and romance fanatic and full time writer whose earliest movie memories are of Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, and light sabers. (Still waiting on Santa to come through on that one.) She wrote her first short story at age eleven about five friends who fell into another dimension and had to save the Earth – all in ten, sloppy but action packed, wide-ruled notebook pages. Her mother inspired a love of reading and writing and Michele writes seven days a week. She writes sci-fi action adventure as ML Callahan, and romance as Michele Callahan.
~~~
Links to Michele’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TwJQXy
SIGN UP FOR MICHELE’S NEW RELEASE ALERTS!
Just copy and paste the following link into your web browser: http://goo.gl/ZS8A6h
Connect with M. L. (Michele) Callahan:
Twitter: twitter.com/ML_Callahan
Facebook: facebook.com/AuthorMLCallahan
Website: mlcallahan.com
Goodreads: goodreads.com/michele_callahan
Email: callahan@mlcallahan.com
~~~
Thank you, Michele, for sharing Xander’s story with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 9, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Mayday (Lovestruck Librarians) by Olivia Dade
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!
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MAYDAY
Lovestruck Librarians
BY OLIVIA DADE
Blurb
Helen Murphy loves her supportive family, her close-knit circle of friends, and her part-time job at the library. What she doesn’t love: the fact that she’s a thirty-six-year-old near-virgin who lives in her parents’ house. Eager to move out and reclaim her independence at long last, she’s determined to get the library’s new Community Outreach Coordinator position. Even if that means working side-by-side with the one man she desperately wants to avoid—Niceville’s ambitious mayor Wes Ramirez, who happens to be her only previous lover, and the source of her greatest humiliation…
Wes needs to make up for his disastrous one-night—actually, make that one-hour—stand with deliciously nerdy librarian Helen. As they plan the city’s upcoming May Day celebrations together, he’ll try to prove he can do better, in bed and out. It may take every bit of his creativity and determination, but their budding romance has already gone down in flames once . . . and he’ll be damned if he’ll let Helen go a second time.
MAYDAY
Lovestruck Librarians
BY OLIVIA DADE
EXCERPT
After almost twenty years, Wes had managed to clear the stench of failure from his lungs. The air smelled cleaner. The chatter he heard from the arriving committee members sounded sweeter. More cheerful. Even the colors looked more vivid.
One color in particular, actually. A flash of brightness came bobbing in from the doorway, almost entirely obscured by a tall blond woman walking ahead of it. He craned his neck, trying to figure out what source of light had caught his eye. Then the blonde moved to the side, and he could finally see. His gaze focused on a head of coppery red hair and a pale, dimpled face.
He froze, unable to breathe for a long, painful second.
Helen. Former schoolmate. One-time lover. To his shame, one mediocre time at that.
Helen, the woman who had unwittingly served as the catalyst for his recent successes.
Helen, his greatest regret of the past year.
Chatting with the blonde and not looking his way at all, she selected a seat at the end of a back row. From what he could tell, she hadn’t changed much in the last ten or so months. She still appeared soft, all curves and gentle, round warmth. Her fiery mane of red curls hung maybe an inch longer than he recalled, barely brushing the shoulders of that dress. And as he watched, she pushed the frames of her horn-rimmed glasses onto the bridge of her nose, precisely as he’d seen her do that night.
Helen. Still lovely. Still exuding intelligence and lively enthusiasm.
Their encounter nearly a year ago should have been all about her. Even through a haze of self-disgust and frustration, he’d noticed how she shone in a crowd. But he’d needed a way out of his own head more than he’d wanted the possibility of a real connection with a woman.
So he’d used her. Used sex to distract himself from his failures, in a grim repetition of old patterns he’d tried so hard to break. And afterward, he’d looked down at Helen sprawled across his bed—all tousled red curls and pale, velvety flesh, the embodiment of his secret dreams—and known he’d screwed up. Big-time. Because a man wanted to give a woman like her the world, and he couldn’t give her anything. Not even a decent romp in bed, and certainly not a man worth her attention and energy. So he’d turned her away, hurting her. Hurting himself.
She’s still a woman who deserves more than you can offer, an insidious voice whispered inside his head. A whiff of that familiar stench drifted his way again, and he shook his head hard to remove it from his nostrils.
No. That wasn’t true anymore. Now he could offer her something. An apology. An explanation. Above all else, a man worthy of her time.
What would happen between them without alcohol and despair muddying their interactions? Would they enjoy each other’s company? Would she accept his apology? Could the two of them make a fresh start and see where it led?
He didn’t know. But he could find out. Right now.
Meet Author Olivia Dade
… 
Olivia Dade grew up an undeniable nerd, prone to ignoring the world around her as she read any book she could find. Her favorite stories, though, were always romances. As an adult, she earned an M.A. in American history and worked in a variety of jobs that required her to hide her bawdy interior under a demure exterior: Colonial Williamsburg interpreter, high school teacher, academic tutor, and (of course) librarian. Finally, though, she realized the call of the hussy could no longer be denied. So now she writes contemporary romantic comedy with plenty of sex, banter, and nerdery. When not writing, she cooks alongside her husband, dabbles in photography, and tries to hide her collection of throbbing-intensive romances from her curious daughter.
~~~
Links to Olivia’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TwKvYX
Barnes & Noble:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mayday-olivia-dade/1122536585?ean=9781616509378
Google:
https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Olivia_Dade_Mayday?id=Ld5fCgAAQBAJ
Books-A-Million:
http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Mayday/Olivia-Dade/Q672234296?id=6300597355308
iBooks:
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/mayday/id1039679614?mt=11
Kobo:
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/mayday-17
To find the links all in one place:
Kensington:
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/32306
Olivia’s website: http://oliviadade.com/books/
~~~
Thank you, Olivia, for sharing your story with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 8, 2016
**Author Peek** Interview with Xander, Fire Elemental Hero, TOUCH OF FIRE by Michele Callahan
**Author Peek** Interview with Xander
Fire Elemental Hero
TOUCH OF FIRE by MICHELE CALLAHAN
~~
INTRODUCING….Xander.
A candid note from Xander, Fire Elemental and the hero of Touch of Fire (A Magic, New Mexico Kindle World story)
So, you think your family is messed up? Achilles was my brother. Seriously. Unfortunately for the rest of us born to the same mother over the centuries, Achilles’ dad tied her up while she was sleeping, forced her to marry him, and then stopped her before she could make Achilles fully immortal. Since her previous six sons had already died, this move really pissed her off.
So, what did mommy dearest do? She cursed all of her male offspring, for all eternity – which wouldn’t be a big deal if she weren’t an immortal goddess who enjoys seducing mortal men…
My name is Xander, and I’m just one of many sons born to her in modern time. We boys aren’t immortal, not by a long shot, but we are cursed with three things:
One – we carry an elemental power within that we must learn to control at an early age (or die). My curse is fire, but I’ve met some of my other brothers and they all share the other elements – earth, water and air.
Two – we can’t fall in love until our mother decides to take pity on us and cast a magical spell to draw our mate to us. An irresistible spell. A spell the poor women can’t resist, no matter who they are, where they are, or what they’re doing. The magic calls and they’ll come to us.
Three – we have to convince our magically summoned mates to fall in love with us and choose to stay. They leave us…not a damn thing we can do about it. We can’t even follow our mates if they run because mother’s spell ties us to the exact place the magic was cast.
So, you see my problem? Mother took pity on me and Kayla Evans detoured into the small town of Magic, New Mexico. I’ve only got a week to convince Kayla to fall in love with me. Trouble is the magical creatures in this town won’t leave her alone. A vampire tried to have her for dinner. A local witch cast a spell on her so now she’s talking to animals. The werewolves think she’s hot (she is). And a homeless fairy princess decided to give birth to triplets practically in my Kayla’s lap.
Throw in my annoying brother, an air elemental who got shot down in his dragon form over Area 51, and I’m fighting for my love life here people. Give a Fire Lord a break, would ya?
And if not? Well, I’ll take whatever I can get – no matter how many kisses I have to steal.
Kayla Evans is mine…she just doesn’t know it yet.
Xander
~~~~~
Be sure to come back to read more about Xander and TOUCH OF FIRE, A Magic, New Mexico Kindle World story by Michele Callahan on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench. Happy Reading!
~~~
Links to Michele’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1TwJQXy
SIGN UP FOR MICHELE’S NEW RELEASE ALERTS!
Just copy and paste the following link into your web browser: http://goo.gl/ZS8A6h
Connect with M. L. (Michele) Callahan:
Twitter: twitter.com/ML_Callahan
Facebook: facebook.com/AuthorMLCallahan
Website: mlcallahan.com
Goodreads: goodreads.com/michele_callahan
Email: callahan@mlcallahan.com
~~~
Thank you, Xander and Michele, for sharing your story with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 5, 2016
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s: Barbecue Meatballs from Karen’s Kitchen
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 BARBECUE MEATBALLS!
This recipe came from my mother. I remember smelling these savory little balls of heaven all day, every time there was a party or barbecue. The waiting was hard, I tell you! 
It’s the perfect BYO food and so easy to make.
I hope you enjoy today’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!
Karen
P.S. We’re at 258 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.
BARBECUE MEATBALLS
[Perfect for Potlucks & Parties]
½ lb. pork sausage
3 lbs. hamburger
½ tsp. ground cloves
½ tsp. cinnamon
½ cup chopped onion
2 eggs
3 tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
4 slices bread
½ cup milk
Mix bread and milk and heat until mushy. Mix the rest of the ingredients into the mush and form meatballs. Bake 450 degrees for 15 minutes. Add to sauce below prepared in crockpot. Cook 3-4 hours.
Sauce: 1 (28 oz.) catsup, 8 oz. tomato puree, ½ cup brown sugar, ¼ cup lemon juice, ½ tsp. seasoned salt, few drops liquid smoke.
Happy Eating!
May 4, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Upon A Time (Short Stories) by R.L. Stedman
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!
~~
UPON A TIME
Short Stories
BY R.L. STEDMAN
Blurb
Welcome to Upon a Time – a collection of fairytales. Meet Cynders and his fairy godfather; Ashley, dreaming of the Charming Ball; Ella, wearer of specially engineered shoes; a mirror-programmer (how do you define fairest anyway?) and of course, Beauty and her long-sleeping Beast.
Upon a Time is an expanding series of short stories. There’s one installment for each holiday: Christmas, Valentines, Easter and Halloween.
So, if you’re wanting to grab yourself a copy of this expanding series (you’ll get the Christmas and Valentines too), click here to be taken to the email list. You can choose between pdf, kindle or nook/itunes formats.
UPON A TIME
Short Stories
BY R.L. STEDMAN
Excerpt
The shop was called ‘Charming’ and the dot above the i was a crown. You’ve probably heard of us; we’re in most high-end shopping malls.
“Hello. Do you remember me?”
“Of course.” I smiled, and hoped she hadn’t returned to complain.
“I got a dress,” she whispered. “It cost a fortune, but it’s worth it. I hope.” She peered behind me. “Are those other, um, ladies, here?”
“They’re out the back.”
“Do you still have any of those glass shoes? I’ve looked everywhere for something as nice, but I can’t find anything. I don’t want to get you into trouble. But those shoes were just so comfortable.”
Suddenly I felt immensely angry at Bernice and Zelda. They were so selfish! “I’ll go and look.”
I barged past Zelda, still staring up at her smoke. Grabbed a few boxes, so she wouldn’t realise that I was after one in particular and returned to the store, where my customer was standing, just where I’d left her. Except now there was someone beside her – a tall, dark-haired man. He was awfully good-looking. No wonder she wanted her dress and shoes to be just right.
“Here you are.” I put the other boxes on the seat like a barricade, so that if Zelda or Bernice came out they wouldn’t see what I was doing. “Sit down,” I said. “We had better check they still fit.”
“Oh they will,” she said. “I’m sure of it. It was just like magic!”
“It’s the new technology. Amazing, isn’t it?” I pulled them from the box, put them on the floor and she slipped her feet into them. “Look, they fit perfectly!” I laughed. “You shall go to the ball!”
The man smiled. “You happy, Aunt?”
She pouted. “Oh don’t call me ‘Aunt’, darling. You know it makes me feel so old.”
“You’re his aunt?” I asked, stupidly. Like it was any of my business. My face grew hot.
But the man laughed. “You were right. She is pretty, isn’t she?” He helped me to my feet. His eyes were intensely blue and, weirdly, he looked familiar. “What do you think, Ashley? Would you like to come to the ball?”
“Me? How do you know my name?”
“When my Aunt told me about her experience…”
“Don’t call me Aunt.”
“…in this store, I looked up the staff records.”
“How could you do that?” Only the head office had access. Perhaps a computer hacker might get in, but the Charming Brands were known for their security. Anyway, he didn’t look like a hacker. He looked like…
“Well,” he half-smiled, “Actually, I own the store.”
“Oh my gosh! You’re Princeton Charming!” Princeton Charming, himself! In this store! He was much more handsome in real life than the photos. I was going to hyperventilate!
“Princeton calls me Aunt,” said Cougar Lady, “but I’m not related to him at all. I’m Flora, his Godmother.”
“So you’re not going with him? To the ball?”
Flora looked at Princeton. Began to laugh. “Oh, my dear! Oh, no! No. The man I am going with is much, much, better looking.”
“Thank you very much,” said Princeton.
“And younger,” added Flora.
I tried not to make a face, but Princeton did.
Zelda and Bernice came into the store. There were red spots on Bernice’s cheeks.
“See, I told you,” said Zelda. “She’s trying to sell those shoes again.”
“Ash!” said Bernice. “You can’t sell those shoes! They’re…”
She stopped. Zelda stopped. For a moment, the world seemed to pause.
“Ah, yes,” said Princeton, charmingly. “These must be the other staff you mentioned, Aunt. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, ladies, but …you’re fired. I was going to send a letter, but then I thought – since my Aunt,”
“Don’t call me that,” hissed Flora.
“Sorry. Since Flora told me about her experiences here, I would like to meet you personally.”
Zelda and Bernice stared at him, their mouths wide open. They looked like two stuffed fishes.
“And Ashley,” said Princeton, “I’m giving you the afternoon off. Flora would like to take you shopping. For the ball.”
“For the ball?” whispered Bernice.
“You’re taking her?” said Zelda.
“Of course.” Princeton took my hand. His fingers were warm and very gentle. “I look forward to dancing with you. You’ll have to wear the new glass slippers, Ashley. I know they’ll fit you perfectly.”
A NECKLACE OF SOULS
BY R.L. STEDMAN
Blurb
‘A true dream is when the events I see in my sleep have, or will happen. It’s a talent that runs in my family. I was thirteen when I had my first true dream.’
Will’s Aunt says the Kingdom of the Rose is the most fortunate of lands. But Will hates the place – his uncle and aunt are horrible, and he misses his parents.
Dana wishes she wasn’t a princess. She’s always being told how to behave, what to wear. The collier’s cart seems the perfect escape. Only she didn’t realize she’d become so dirty, or so lost. Fortunately this boy, Will, has a sense of direction. And next to the forbidding stranger, N’tombe, he seems reassuringly normal.
Welcome to A Necklace of Souls: a story of love and loss, of shattered lives and desperate hopes. In the Kingdom of the Rose, bravery is not always measured by strength and magic is real, if only one has the courage to dream.
Shortlisted for the Sir Julius Vogel Award, A Necklace of Souls was awarded the Tessa Duder Award for Young Adult Fiction, Best First Book at the New Zealand Post Children and Young Adult Book Awards and is a Storylines Notable Book.
A NECKLACE OF SOULS
BY R.L. STEDMAN
Excerpt
Chapter One: Dreaming
A true dream is when the events I see in my sleep have, or will happen. It’s a talent that runs in my family. I was thirteen when I had my first true dream.
This was my dream.
***
Candles cast shadows across the roof and dripped wax on the flagstones. I knew this place — it was the throne room, used on the most ceremonial occasions: investitures, coronations, state weddings. But now it was crowded with people. Laughing, they called loudly to each other, or to the musicians, or the wine waiters. They were not ceremonial at all. What was I doing here?
Feeling like a balloon, I bobbed against the stone roses on the ceiling. Below, the dancers twirled and swayed. They were richly dressed, in stiff embroidered cloth and gold-threaded cloaks that gleamed in the candlelight. Up against the ceiling, the air was stifling and I felt hot and bored. Watching someone else’s party is rarely entertaining.
With a crash of guards’ spears, the doors of the antechamber opened. A soberly dressed woman and a blonde-haired boy in a ruff stood in the doorway. The boy tugged the stiff lace at his throat. This child and the woman — a servant by her dress, a nurse by the way she fussed over his hair — seemed out of place in this crowded ballroom. Threading their way through the crowd, the boy clung to his nurse’s hand, hiding his face against her skirts, as women touched his head with ringed fingers.
No-one noticed me. This is the way of true dreams. You’re a watcher only, powerless to change the events that unfold, even if you want to. Unless, unless, you have power and passion, and then, ah, then there is nothing you may not do. But that night, I had neither…
Blurb
‘Maybe it would be better if I started at the beginning.’ Gran watched me carefully. ‘This ability we have; my mother, me. You. We draw heat along our bodies; anger makes us flame.’
When her friend is assaulted, Corrine Peterson can’t help reacting. But she didn’t think and now her hands are burnt, Gran is coming to look after her and, scariest of all, strange men are watching her house. Could they be terrorists? Secret agents?
It seems that Gran’s idea of a solution is to introduce Corrine to Rowan. Okay, sure, maybe eighteen year old Rowan is gorgeous – but he has his own troubles. And right now, Corrine doesn’t need complications in her life.
But in a world of surveillance and secrecy, complexity is inevitable. And as the tension mounts Corrine realizes – maybe Gran can help her, after all.
An exciting new story from an award-winning author.
Contains coarse language and sexual references.
Meet the Author, R.L. Stedman
… 
I’m Rachel Stedman, writing as RL Stedman. I live in the south of beautiful New Zealand, where the weather is cold and the roads are empty.
I write YA and middle grade fiction, mostly with fantasy elements. I’ve had a blast writing a romantic trilogy, a futuristic thriller, and most recently, a ghost story for kids. My first novel, A Necklace of Souls, won Best First Book in the New Zealand Book Awards, and the Tessa Duder Award for Young Adult fiction.
You can read more about my writing here.
And…the reason I’m coming onto Karen’s blog is to let you know about this lovely little gift that I’ve got going. See, I love my readers. They are an awesome bunch! So to say ‘thank you’ I’ve created a giveaway, and I’m sharing it with Karen’s readers, too. If you are a teacher or a librarian you are more than welcome to copy and share Upon a Time with your students.
I hope you enjoy.
~~~
Links to R.L.’s website, blog, books, etc.
Link to Giveaway: Upon a Time
Inner Fire: http://amzn.to/26NpiE0
A Necklace of Souls: http://amzn.to/21rPQ9T
Link to store: Amazon Store
Website: RL Stedman
Twitter and Instagram: @rlstedman
~~~**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Everyone’s a winner! Don’t forget to get your free copy of UPON A TIME by R.L. Stedman. Just follow the links in this blog. Be sure to check out all of her other books while you’re at it. Thank you, R.L., for sharing your stories with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read these books!
May 3, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Five And Twenty Blackbirds (By The Numbers Book 4) by Leeann Betts
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!
~~
FIVE AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS
By The Numbers Book 4
BY LEEANN BETTS
Blurb
Join Carly Turnquist as she accompanies husband Mike to his twenty-fifth college reunion in Arizona. However, a sleepy little town is about to wake up to its first murder in over a hundred years, and Carly’s nose for a mystery is on high alert.
FIVE AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS
By The Numbers Book 4
BY LEEANN BETTS
EXCERPT
With this many people in one place, two things were bound to be true. One of these people was a killer.
And one of these boring college types would soon die.
If not for her insatiable curiosity about the three hundred complete strangers she was about to meet, Carly Turnquist, forensic accountant, would not be caught dead in this chintzy reception room in a hotel in the middle of Nowheresville, Arizona.
Because in her world those two things would be true.
And she always had way more fun in her world than in the real.
She wasn’t having anywhere near the fun Mike had assured her she would enjoy.
After all, it was his college reunion, not hers.
And in Arizona in July, to boot.
Feeling as though she’d stepped onto the set of a low-grade college frat movie, she hovered in a dim corner near the buffet. The only good thing she’d seen here tonight was the shrimp cocktail.
And even that looked picked-over three hours into the meet-and-greet.
She sighed. Her shoes pinched, her back ached, and if she had to smile at one more person gushing to her about what a great guy her husband was, she might lose what she’d already eaten. The air conditioning blew a chill breeze across her bare arms, and once more she wished she was tucked into her jammies in her hotel room, dipping into the new murder mystery she’d picked up at the airport.
That, and the extra-large bag of malted milk balls.
A portly man with thinning hair and thick glasses standing across the room held her gaze then made a beeline for her.
Mike, Mike, where was Mike? She spotted him in a corner, his back to her. An older man—perhaps a professor—gestured with his hands. A peroxide-blonde stood beside him, smiling at the man on her right, whose strong chin and well-coiffed hair tweaked a memory. Did she know him? Several others stood in the group, including a tall, thin man reminding Carly of Vincent Price, the actor, as well as a couple of women, academic types, judging by their large eyeglasses and severe hair styles.
No time to reflect on them now. Portly Guy was still threading his way—not very graciously—through the folks on the dance floor. She glanced toward the door leading to the restrooms. Too many people in the way. She’d never make it in time. Maybe the patio. She side-stepped her way to the French doors which opened on to a flagstone path that wound its way through a cactus garden. Barrel-shaped plants, beaver-tail shaped arms, and looming saguaros stretching to the stars, festooned with white Christmas tree lights, marked her escape route. Couples huddled in darkened alcoves, the liquor causing the years to slip away, no doubt, rekindling old loves and igniting new ones.
She shivered, although the night air was much too warm for her to be truly cold.
She was so glad Mike hadn’t gone the way of most of his classmates—paunches, wrinkles, baldness—men and women alike seemed to have passed through some sort of time machine, appearing on the other side of fifty looking like the before ads for a cosmetic surgery office.
Glancing over her shoulder, she halted. She’d lost Mr. Portly in the crowd. Or perhaps he wasn’t really coming for her at all.
She paused near a waterfall, the bubbling water making her suddenly thirsty. Perhaps a glass of sparkling water would go down good right about now. She headed back toward the party, sidestepping a couple firmly wrapped into each other’s arms—and lips.
She peered through a pane in the door to make sure Mr. Portly-Guy wasn’t anywhere near, when a cold hand on her shoulder made her yelp.
She whirled to face its owner.
“Carly Anne Stevens, is that you?”
Tall and thin as a scarecrow, Harrison Dyer, accountant to The Family, faced her.
Carly stepped back, forcing him to retrieve his hand. One of Harrison’s annoying traits was he always stood too close for comfort. “Carly Anne Turnquist now.”
He grinned at her, his formerly brace-encapsulated smile now gleaming white. Unnaturally so. “So good to see you again.”
She glanced around. Where was Mike when she needed him? She spotted her husband in yet another clutch of classmates and spouses, nodding at something the same much-older man—one of his former professors—Binkle, Bunkle? A man Mike revered—was saying. The professor’s hands gestured in the air, making his point. His florid face—whether from exertion or too much alcohol, she wasn’t certain—made his white hair appear snowy.
She sighed. Mike wasn’t going to rescue her. She turned back to Harrison. “I didn’t know you were alumni here.”
Some emotion she couldn’t quite identify flickered across his face—anger? Resentment? Embarrassment? But the expression was gone in a flash, leaving the half-smile and partly-curled top lip she remembered so well.
That, and his annoying habit of looking at everybody except the person he was with.
Or maybe that’s just how he treated her.
Harrison eyed the room behind them. Music filtered through the half-opened door, and a number of couples edged toward the dance floor. “No. I’m here on business.” He rolled his eyes. “No rest for the wicked, you know.”
“I think the phrase is ‘no rest for the weary’.”
He waved off her words like they were pesky flies. “Whatever.”
Carly studied Harrison. Although he’d aged—hadn’t they all—he’d changed only in superficial ways. A much better-dressed scarecrow than during their college days, he still watched everybody else as though he was looking for someone more interesting, or powerful, or beautiful, to be with. She sighed. At one point in the past, she’d been flattered that he’d paid even a minute’s attention to her.
Until they danced and he spent their entire three minutes eying the other women in the room.
“So, Harrison, if you’re not here for the reunion, what are you doing in Central Arizona? Not exactly Chicago, is it?”
His smile slipped a millimeter before he plastered the grin back on. “Like I said, I’m here on business. Until the end of the week.”
“What a coincidence we should be in the same place for the first time in over twenty-five years.”
“You don’t think I’m chasing you, do you?”
No, she didn’t think that. He hadn’t when she was twenty-five years younger and twenty—okay, twenty-five pounds lighter. “More likely you’re chasing something in a mini-skirt.”
His jaw dropped, his mouth creating an O. If he’d pointed his thumb at his chest and mimicked Miss Piggy’s ‘moi?’, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
While he’d majored in accounting, he’d minored in drama.
And not the university course.
He leaned in closer. “Actually, I saw you at the airport. Recognized you right away.”
He batted his eyelashes.
If he was trying to appear innocent, he failed miserably.
Carly resisted the urge to step back again. She’d spent three years in classes with Harrison Dyer at the University of Northern Indiana, trying to ignore his sexist innuendos about the other women in their classes, repeatedly turning down his pleas for help. He wasn’t going to chase her off again. “Why didn’t you say something at the airport?”
“Couldn’t catch up with you. You and—is the guy on your arm the mister in Turnquist?”
“Yes. Mike.”
Harrison nodded, his lips pursed. “Thought so. There is something different about couples who have been intimate, don’t you think? You can tell by their body language. A familiarity, perhaps, that you don’t notice in friends. Even friends with benefits.”
A blonde glided to stand beside Harrison. She looped an arm through his, pressing against his side. Her low-cut dress revealed more skin than Carly thought proper, and her too-red lipstick appeared harsh in the dim lighting. “Are you done here, Harry? I want to go to our room and get more comfortable.” She giggled in a little-girl manner that contrasted with the sun-induced wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She held out a hand to Carly. “Hi. I’m Misty.”
Yes, you are. Transparent and irritating. Carly returned the greeting. “Carly. Harrison—Harry and I went to college together.”
Misty’s eyes opened wide. “Wow. I’ve never met anyone who knew Harry before he came to Chicago.” Her Midwestern accent sharpened the r’s and rolled the o’s. “Maybe we can get together over coffee and Danish and you can tell me all about this bad boy.” She mock-punched Harrison’s arm. “What do you think, Harry?”
“Whatever.”
Carly gritted her teeth. While the response might be merely annoying when shot from the mouth of an angst-ridden teen, coming from a man of his age, the word grated on her sensibilities. Still, she wasn’t going to see them again, so she could be pleasant. In short spurts. “Good to see you, Harrison.”
She nodded at his companion then glanced at the woman’s ring finger.
Bare.
Probably one of his friends with benefits, judging by her body language.
And based on the way she clung to him, Misty would like to make their relationship more than that.
Harrison sidled away a step, putting some distance between him and Misty.
But not him. He ’s already scoping out the next one.
Harrison laid a hand on Carly’s arm.
Her bare arm.
She glanced at his hand then at him.
He snatched back his hand as though she’d threatened to bite him.
Which she might well have done if he hadn’t made the first move.
Where was her husband? “What?”
“Can we get together tomorrow? I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“Again, what? We haven’t seen each other in years. We’re not going to be friends in the future any more than we were in college. We don’t run in the same circles, Harrison. I follow the law.”
She left the accusation hanging in the air between them.
Misty huffed, her bangs lifting with the exhalation, then wheeled on her four-inch stilettos. “I’ll be inside when you’re ready to leave.”
He turned toward Carly. “And I follow the money. I have a problem that I think you can help me with. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Visions of sitting around the hotel room while Mike spent the day in a tour of the university, a dedication of a new wing of the library, and lectures about the latest research from the engineering department didn’t exactly thrill her. She wasn’t a sunbather, the town was small and uninteresting, and she knew enough not to venture out into the desert by herself.
Maybe she could survive spending an hour with someone as obnoxious as Harrison Dyer.
After all, she could always say no to whatever scheme he was going to present.
She was a big girl.
She could take care of herself.
Meet Author Leeann
… 
Leeann Betts writes contemporary suspense, while her real-life persona, Donna Schlachter, pens historical suspense. No Accounting for Murder and There Was a Crooked Man, books 1 and 2 in her By the Numbers series, released in the fall of 2015 Book 3, Unbalanced, released in January. Book 4, Five and Twenty Blackbirds, is due in April, with more planned for later dates. If you like accountants or are an accountant, check out Counting the Days: a 21-day devotional for accountants, bookkeepers, and financial folk. You can follow Leeann at www.AllBettsAreOff.wordpress.com. All books are available at Amazon.com in digital and print, and at Smashwords.com in digital.
~~~
Links to Leeann’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1SEnCX8
Website: Leeann@LeeannBetts.com
Facebook: http://bit.ly/1pQSOqV
Twitter: http://bit.ly/1qmqvB6
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Leeann is giving away a print (US Only) or eBook (anywhere) copy of FIVE AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS to one reader who comments on this Author Peek or Karen’s Killer Book Bench blogs. Thank you, Leeann, for sharing your story with us. Don’t miss the chance to read these books!
May 2, 2016
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: A Ring Around Her Heart by Laura Haley-McNeil
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 RING AROUND HER HEART
BY LAURA HALEY-MCNEIL
Blurb
Giselle Whitloch has no time for love. As a college grad, she’s on track to land her dream Wall Street job. Her great grandmother’s ring gives her strength to pursue her goal. When she doesn’t get the job, she flees to the Crystal Creek Ranch to regain her courage to step back into her job hunting mode.
Niccolo di Saluzzo has been searching for the ring that will save his family–the ring that disappeared from his family’s possessions one hundred years ago. He will pursue the ring even if he has to follow the one woman he can never love to an isolated ranch in Crystal Creek, Colorado. Even if pursuing this woman costs him his life.
Niccolo and Giselle battle over ownership of the ring in a fight that takes them from New York City to Crystal Creek, Colorado, to the Balearic Island of Mallorca, to the pinnacle of love both must deny. But the final battle is waged when they meet the man who plans to destroy them both–all for the possession of a ring with a powerful secret.
A RING AROUND HER HEART
BY LAURA HALEY-MCNEIL
EXCERPT
Chapter One
Niccolo di Saluzzo pushed through the throng of the New York nightclub partygoers and searched for Giselle Whitloch who had the one thing he wanted – the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand.
She was the woman he had to see tonight. Yesterday would’ve been better, for his sister’s sake.
The ring didn’t belong to this American woman. Not legally. This woman had no idea of the wealth and secrets the ring held.
But he knew.
Laser shots of blue, yellow, red and green flashed through the club. Mini skirted women and jean clad men bounced around the silver dance floor, their movements jerking like the Wizard of Oz Tin Woodman in need of a lube job.
“Hey, baby.” A tall blonde trailed a manicured nail along Niccolo’s jaw.
Her glittery dress stretched across augmented breasts and hugged rounded hips. Her full lips glistened a subtle pink beneath the flashing lights.
“You want to dance?” She sucked her purple drink through a red straw. Her eyes held the promise of a night that would fulfill his every fantasy.
The stir inside him stopped him like a vaudeville hook. Once that stir had been exciting. Now it was trite, though he still reacted to it. He was used to these looks, especially from women who knew who he was. His gaze swept over her form that could have been naked by the way the dress hugged her about-to-burst breasts, cinched waist, body-shaping encased hips. Her thighs were a mystery, but he’d seen enough thighs to imagine what they would look like.
Her mouth slid into an oversized gap that revealed Hollywood white teeth. She enjoyed that he liked what he saw.
“Some other time.” He pushed past her.
Her sputter followed him through the crowd. Someone as desirable as she wasn’t use to being rejected. Maybe later he would regret rebuffing her. Right now, he didn’t care. There was only one woman he cared about.
The woman with the chocolate brown curls.
The woman with the topaz colored eyes.
He scanned the revelers on the dance floor and at the bar. He could be looking at her right now. If she were wearing the ring, he would know her.
He had to find her. Something hard and ragged stuck in his throat. Tonight, he had to find the woman in possession of his family’s ring.
* * *
Giselle Whitloch followed her redheaded roommate and best girlfriend, Bryce Gregory, through the bumping, grinding bodies at the nightclub. A fog of dance sweat and booze hung above the floor.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming to this crazy place.” Giselle twisted the ring on her finger.
“To get your mind off that disastrous interview you had this afternoon.” Bryce tossed over her shoulder.
“Thanks for the reminder.” It was impossible to hear in this eardrum-bursting place, but Giselle had no problem hearing that ego shattering comment about her post college attempt to enter the workforce.
She had doubled up on credit hours to graduate early. The best graduation present was landing an interview with a supreme Wall Street firm.
The stake through her heart was her father being a no-show at her graduation.
“Why do you get mad at me when I’m only speaking the truth?” Bryce wiggled her hips past a group of men with rock star hair, gold crosses and unbuttoned shirts. She looked them up and down then moved on. “You know I love you.”
“Truth doesn’t have to feel like one of David’s five smooth stones smashing into Goliath’s head.” Giselle grumbled.
The men stared at Bryce until she passed. When Giselle passed, they leaned forward and their mouths dropped open.
One man, two inches taller than Giselle’s five foot four inch frame, stepped in front of her. She skidded to a stop before slamming into his shaved chest that glistened with petroleum jelly.
“Sorry.” Giselle dipped her head and skirted around him.
He stepped in front of her. “Dark curls. I love dark curls.”
He flipped a finger at her wash and wear hair.
She stepped to one side. She didn’t need some creepy man touching her. Through gritted teeth, she murmured, “Excuse me.”
“How about I buy you a drink and then take you to my place?” the man said.
A skittery feeling slithered across her shoulders, A gag rose in her throat. She wouldn’t be caught with him in a grocery store.
“How about you work on your lines?” Giselle ducked beneath his elbow and rushed after Bryce. The only thing worse than creepy men were their creepy come-on lines. They made her want to take a shower.
She was breathless when she reached her friend.
“After tonight, you’ll be raring to go into that interview room.” Bryce climbed the stairs to the nightclub’s VIP lounge. If she realized that Giselle had missed half of her non-pep pep talk, she didn’t show it.
“Bryce, it’s the Saturday before Christmas. No one’s going to be scheduling interviews until after New Year’s.”
Bryce gave that duh shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter when, Giselle. The point is you’ll be ready.”
“I’m ready now. At least, I thought I was. I thought I was ready this afternoon.”
Bryce lifted her shoulders in that way she did whenever she lost interest in the conversation. With two fingers, she pulled out a one hundred dollar bill from her quilted purse embossed with the hooked Cs and pointed it at the hostess.
The young woman wove her way through the jumble of techno colored lounge chairs.
“We want to sit on the balcony.” Bryce nodded toward the plush seats suspended over the dance floor.
“I’m so sorry.” The hostess, her dark hair anchored with chopsticks, bowed her head. “That section has already been reserved.”
“By whom?” Bryce asked.
“I’m sorry.” Again, the nod of the head with the chopsticks swinging forward. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Come on, Bryce.” Giselle pulled at her friend’s elbow. “No one’s up here. We can sit anywhere. I don’t know why you always want to sit in VIP. No one else does, and then you get bored.”
“If the balcony’s been reserved, someone’s sitting up here tonight. With all the masses below, I want to sit in VIP. I need a good view.” She pulled two more one hundred dollar bills from her purse and angled them at the hostess. “I want to sit on the balcony.”
The hostess slipped the bills from Bryce’s fingers and tucked them into the V of her dress “Please follow me.” When they reached the balcony, the hostess bowed her head again. “Will you be ordering champagne this evening?”
“The usual.” Bryce strode through the labyrinth of lounge furniture and plopped down on a chair near the rail.
“Could you please bring me a bottle of spring water?” Giselle asked.
The hostess reached the stairs before Giselle finished her question. She hoped the hostess had heard her request.
Giselle sat on the opposite side of the coffee table from Bryce. “I can’t stay late, Bryce. I’m scheduled for an online interview after the holidays, and I need to prepare for that.”
“You don’t prepare for online interviews.” Bryce rolled her eyes.
“This coming from the woman who will never have to interview for a job ever.”
“Of course, I will. Daddy isn’t just going to let me waltz in and take over.” Bryce leaned over the rail. Her gaze narrowed and roamed over the patrons as if she were a scientist examining specimens through a microscope. She stiffened and grabbed Giselle’s arm. “There he is.”
Giselle rocked her head with annoyance and pulled herself to the rail. “There who is?”
“Next to that dancer on the pedestal. You don’t recognize him?”
“There’re twenty dancers on twenty pedestals down there, and hundreds of men standing next to them.” Giselle craned her neck in search of a man she might recognize. She didn’t recognize anyone. “Who is he?”
“I’ve only been talking about him for the past half hour. Niccolo di Saluzzo, the youngest race car driver ever to win three Grand Prix.”
“Since when do you like race car drivers?”
“Since I saw him.”
The hostess placed an ice bucket of champagne on the coffee table and filled each fluted glass.
Giselle lifted one of the champagne glasses and held it out to the hostess. “No champagne for me, please. Could you bring me a bottle of spring water?”
The hostess gave her an I-don’t-understand-English smile, bowed and stepped away.
“Do you think she’ll bring my spring water?”
“Drink the champagne, Giselle. If you get any more wound up, you’ll drill a hole through the floor.” Bryce studied the revelers milling on the main floor.
“I’m not that bad,” Giselle rocked her knees together. She leaned over the balcony. “It’s like looking at ants. All I see are heads. Black, brown, red, blond. Unless someone looks up. . .”
“He’s looking up.” Bryce rested an elbow on the rail and flashed a smile that told the lucky man she found him desirable.
Giselle’s gaze followed Bryce’s. Her eyes locked into green eyes so brilliant they made emeralds look like pea soup. A shiver crept up her neck and locked into the base of her skull. She fell against the back of the chair. Her lungs grasped at sips of air. The need to run outside and inhale every air molecule on the planet clamped around her head.
“He saw us. He’s talking to the bouncer. Looks like we’re going to have fun tonight.” Bryce leaned against the chair back and sipped from the champagne glass.
“Remember, I don’t want anything to do with any guys tonight. He’s all yours.” Giselle twirled the stem of her glass.
“Of course, Giselle, you know I don’t share.” Bryce leaned over the rail again. “What’s taking him so long?”
Giselle dragged her gaze to the man she didn’t want to see. Ever. Her stomach still rocked from the first time she looked into eyes seemed to shoot darts through her dress and nail her to the back of the seat.
“It looks like the bouncer won’t let him come up here.” Giselle’s lungs relaxed, let a sip of air leak in. Let the bouncer keep him busy and away from her.
“The bouncer is going to ruin my whole night.” Bryce waved at the hostess, who approached with eyes cast down to the floor.
“Do you see that man down there?” Bryce flipped her hand toward the stairs. When the hostess nodded, Bryce said, “He’s my friend. I want him to come up here.”
The hostess’ gaze shifted to Giselle. Giselle sank her teeth into her lower lip. Could the hostess see her hesitance to spend the evening with one more of Bryce’s hookups? She had to look on the bright side. Bryce would become involved with Mr. Tall-Dark-Handsome-Filthy rich. No one would notice Giselle. Giselle would make her escape, hail a cab back to the apartment. This plan could work. Giselle would get what she wanted – escape from the nightclub, escape from the man with the perilous eyes.
Eyes that didn’t just look at her. They stripped through her and saw a soul that would ache and writhe if someone knew the truth.
He looked as if he knew the truth.
Meet the Author, Laura Haley-McNeil
… 
Laura Haley-McNeil has studied piano, violin, organ and ballet. She has served on the boards of two community orchestras. She currently lives in Colorado with her husband.
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Links to Laura’s website, blog, books, etc.
Buy Links:
Amazon:
A Ring Around Her Heart (Crystal Creek Series Book 3)
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1RFC9Co
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1Uj0xYx
Apple: http://apple.co/1KwFFr2
~~~
**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Laura will give away an e-book copy of A RING AROUND HER HEART to one lucky reader who comments on this Karen’s Killer Book Bench Blog. Thank you, Laura, for sharing your story with us
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
May 1, 2016
**Author Peek** Interview with Leeann Betts
**Author Peek** Interview with LEEANN BETTS
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INTRODUCING….Leeann.
Before we get started talking about your writing, tell us a little about yourself, where you’re from, what you do for a living (if you’re not a full – time writr) what hobbies you have, etc. Whatever you’d like to share to introduce yourself.
Thanks for the opportunity to visit with you today and for your readers to get to know me a little better. I am from the east coast of Canada, and have lived in Colorado for almost 17 years. I am a bit of a late bloomer–graduated college at 35, married at 40, published my first book at 48. I am a wife and homemaker, active in an international ministry, plus I also proofread legal transcripts and am an accountant. I love reading, traveling, history, and photography.
1. How did you get started writing?
I started writing novels in response to a NaNoWriMo challenge in 2002. That turned out to be the first draft of my first cozy mystery, and I wanted to see if I had at least one book in me. I got to the end and realized I didn’t know whodunit, so I had to go back and write in red herrings and clues for the reader.
2. What genre(s) do you write in and why?
I write suspense because I love reading suspense. I love anything forensic-related, but I don’t like a lot of blood and gore, so suspense and cozy mysteries fit the bill for me.
3. What do you think about when you’re alone in your car?
I don’t drive, so I’m not often alone in my car. But when we’re traveling, I think a lot about the books I’ve got in process, the next one I want to start, and I keep asking that What If? Question.
4. What is your favorite part of writing?
I love the idea generation, and I love writing The End.
5. What is your least favorite part of writing?
Editing. I once said to my hubby, “I wish I could just write the books and let someone else do the editing and publishing.” He said, wise sage that he is, “Then you wouldn’t learn how to write better.” SIGH — so true.
6. Pick two celebrities to be your parents. Who would they be and why?
Agatha Christie and William Murdoch. She, because of her writing. He because although he is fictitious, his character was ahead of his time in the 1890’s in terms of forensics and crime solving. Think “Canadian Sherlock Holmes”.
7. Where do you get the ideas for your stories?
People I meet, newspaper articles, bits of history or current events. Obituaries. Headstone epitaphs. Songs. Things people say. Milk cartons — yes, the old ones that featured pictures of missing children sparked the idea for a series.
8. Tell me about your ideal reader .
My ideal reader is 35-65, doesn’t take herself or himself too seriously, doesn’t want blood and gore or erotica or cussing, is looking for a gentle story that won’t cause nightmares, and loves to read.
9. What is your “go to” routine that helps you get in the mood to write? Special beverage? Music? Etc.
I don’t believe that a writer should need to “get in the mood to write”. If I only went to my job when I was “in the mood”, I wouldn’t have a job very long. I think there is a fine line between being a writer and wanting to be a writer–being a writer means sitting down, even when you’re not in the mood, and getting the job done. You’ve made promises–to yourself, your editor, your publisher, your reader–and you need to be a person who follows through. Even when the laundry or the kids are screaming at you to step away from the computer. For me, I look for reasons to write–I go to a coffee shop one morning a week to get away from the distractions. I take my laptop if I’m going to be even an hour between meetings or appointments. And I believe that so long as I do something every day that’s writing-related, I don’t have to sit at my desk. I can do research at the library about forensics or psychology. I can take an online course related to my next book.
10. Tell us about your next book & when is it being published?
Unbalanced is book four in the By the Numbers series, and it releases the end of April. In it, Carly Turnquist, forensic accountant, sees a bank robbery that nobody else sees. Her husband’s long-lost brother turns up then disappears, leaving behind his young son. When the story about the non-existent robbery hits the national news, calling her credibility into question, Carly realizes this is serious. Particularly when her ability to testify at an upcoming trial for her client is jeopardized. Can Carly find out who is behind all this without losing her mind–or her career?
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Be sure to come back to read more about Leeann and her novel, FIVE AND TWENTY BLACKBIRDS (By The Numbers Book 4), on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench. Happy Reading!
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Links to Leeann’s website, blog, books, etc.
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1SEnCX8
Website: Leeann@LeeannBetts.com
Facebook: http://bit.ly/1pQSOqV
Twitter: http://bit.ly/1qmqvB6
Thank you, Leeann, for sharing your stories with us.
Don’t miss the chance to read this book!
