Karen Docter's Blog, page 255
November 30, 2014
**Author Peek** Interview with Melissa McClone
**AUTHOR PEEK** Interview with MELISSA McCLONE
INTRODUCING…Melissa McClone.
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 writer) what hobbies you have, etc. Whatever you’d like to share to introduce yourself.
I’m so happy to be here today. I’m Melissa McClone, and I’ve known Karen longer than I’ve known my husband! We first met way back when we were unpublished and living in the San Francisco Bay Area. Since then, I’ve published over thirty romance novels with Harlequin and Tule Publishing Group. I’ve also been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® award. If I’m not writing, I’m dealing with my kids (two and four legged ones!) I’m addicting to making care packages for deployed service members and I also foster cats through a local no-kill animal shelter. I live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house. They do!
1. What appeals to you about the genre that you write?
I enjoy the journey of two people meeting (or reuniting), falling in love with each other and overcoming the obstacles that stand in their way. When I reach the end of a romance novel whether I’m reading or writing, I know I’ll get that heart-sighing, happily ever after I love! That’s why I love the romance genre.
2. Are you a plotter or a pantser (one who writes “by the seat of your pants”)?
I’m a plotter. I actually write the last chapter after I write the first three chapters so I know where I’m going.
3. What is your favorite part of writing?
Having written! LOL! My favorite part of writing is revising. The blank page is still a little scary to me even after I’ve written so many books.
4. If you had to give up writing and do something else, what would you do instead?
Not sure I could make a living at it, but I’d love to be a professional crafter! I’m not artistic, but I love doing crafts. I can spend hours at Michaels daydreaming of things I’d like to make.
5. What’s your favorite meal of the day?
Breakfast! It’s also my favorite meal to go out to eat! But it’s also the meal I’m most likely to skip when I get busy. Maybe that’s why I enjoy it so much!
6. Which are your favorite characters to write, the female characters or the male characters? Why?
I love writing the male characters. I think it’s because they are so different from me, and I like getting into their heads! I do a lot of research and talk to late-twentysomething, early-thirtysomething guys to help me. That’s a lot of fun!
7. If you had a superpower, what would it be , and how would you use it?
I would want to be invisible. An occupational hazard of being a writer is eavesdropping. Imagine all I could overhear if I was invisible? Perfect writer super power!
8. Many writers dream of having the ideal location to write. If you could live anywhere in the world or live a particular lifestyle, where would you be answering these questions right now?
I would be living in Bend, Oregon! That’s my favorite place to visit and where I dream of living someday.
9. Do you have any rejection stories to share ? Reviews that meant something special to you?
I’ve been very fortunate. My first three books were rejected, then the fourth was sold after I revised it. I’ve had very few rejections since I sold back in 1997. One of those was put on the back burner where I intend to let it stay!
As for reviews, every single one is special to me. Why? Because someone took the time to write a review even if they don’t like a story. I’m still blown away that people will review my books! But if I had to pick one, it would have to be RT Book Reviews one for IN DEEP WATERS… This was the book I was writing when 9/11 happened. After that day, I wrote pure, over the top escapism and dedicated the book to my kids (I had two at the time.) I received a 4 ½ Gold for that book!
10. Tell us about your next book & when is it being published?
My next book will be out in April 2015 from Holiday Books, an imprint of Tule Publishing Group. It’s a sequel to my July 2015 The Honeymoon Prize. It’s set in Europe and the hero is a prince! I’m having a lot of fun with it! I don’t know the title yet.
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Links to Melissa’s website, blog, books, etc.
Website: http://www.melissamcclone.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MelissaMcCloneBooks
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com
Amazon Purchase Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Mistletoe-Wedding-Montana-Born-Christmas-ebook/dp/B00NPMPNE8
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BE SURE TO COME BACK to read more about Melissa, her new release, and an excerpt from MISTLETOE WEDDING, a Marietta Christmas, on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench. Happy Reading!
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Melissa is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card, Socks, Santa bandana, 2015 horse datebook, pen, nail file, candy, autographed FIREFIGHTER UNDER THE MISTLETOE, recipe card & gingerbread cookie cutter, post-it notepad, bookmark to one lucky winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Killer Book Bench blogs. Don’t miss this chance to read Melissa’s new story. Thanks, Melissa, for sharing your newest release with us!
November 27, 2014
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** with Shelley K. Wall
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Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **AUTHOR SPECIAL**
with SHELLEY K. WALL!
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, SHELLEY K.WALL, and her favorite recipe for MOM’S HOMEMADE DONUTS!
We’ll hear more about FIND ME in a minute but first, Shelley shares a repost of a Thanksgiving tribute appropriate to the season…
Here are some interesting statistics on the importance of being thankful:
If you choose an “Attitude of Gratitude”, chances are you will be happier.
Take a look at this article: http://abcnews.go.com/Health/science-thankfulness/story?id=15008148
My favorite quote from it, which I will attempt this month:
“One of the most well-known practices uncovered from this research is known as the Three Blessings exercise,” said Jain . “Each night before going to bed you write down three good things (ordinary or extraordinary) that happened to you during the day. Studies reveal those who continue this exercise for one week straight can increase their happiness and decrease depressive symptoms for up to a six-month period.”
Thankfulness contributes to overall health.
Your mental state affects your physical state, and for obvious reasons, when you focus on others and gratitude –you aren’t focusing on your own problems. Focusing on your problems tends to affect all sorts of health factors:
Read this link about the health benefits of thankfulness, both to mind and body:
http://www.everydayhealth.com/saying-thanks/the-health-benefits-of-saying-thanks.aspx
What Am I Thankful For?
I have not been the perfect child, nor the perfect parent, or spouse…and I don’t think there are such things so I don’t have many regrets. Yet, there are a lot of boundaries I have never crossed and never will…and I am thankful for the strength and fortitude to stick to those standards, even when doing so has caused difficulty.
I am thankful for children that no matter where they are, nor how busy, they take the time to text me back if I send a simple “I love you” randomly during the day or night –even if I thumb type it wrong and mispell.
I am thankful for a husband that has made my life something straight out of a story book (though he’s equally lucky in my book!)
I love having met so many wonderful associates in the writing world that have lives so different than mine, yet they share a dedicated desire to express themselves through their work –their art. I learn from them constantly.
And I am thankful for good health, the hope of a future success, a future goal, a future friendship, a future bestseller (wouldn’t that be nice), and future knowledge gained.
What are you thankful for?
You can find me at
FIND ME
By SHELLEY K. WALL
Book Blurb
Jackson was good at pushing Amanda’s buttons – making her do things her sensible mind abhorred—but was cheating on a friend part of the agenda? Would he go that far? When his best friend has the girl he’s always wanted, how far will Jackson go to tempt her away?
Jackson Holstenar owes his childhood to his best friend Carter, the closest thing he’d had to a brother. Amanda Gillespie’s in serious need of adventure—according to her friend Darlene. After losing her job a year earlier then hiring on with another law office, she hasn’t taken her eyes off work in months. Until the man behind her job loss shows up at the adventure club meeting Darlene dared her to attend—Jackson Holstenar.
When Jackson’s father suffers a stroke, he has to drop his carefree attitude and take over the family company’s helm. He turns to Amanda to help unravel a contract problem at work and fixes her up with his best friend who’s ready to start a relationship. Can Jackson work alongside her again without losing her?
Can Amanda keep her work life out of her personal life and keep Jackson on the friendship track?
FIND ME
By SHELLEY K. WALL
Excerpt
Jackson scowled when Carter winked at Amanda and threw the box onto his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. “Piece of cake. You look amazing by the way.”
Amanda slammed her trunk closed and dropped a hand into the pockets of her tight cargo shorts. She shot Carter another megawatt smile. “Thanks. I wasn’t really sure what was appropriate for this kind of thing.” Jackson felt his face flush. Seriously? She was flirting?
Steam started to rise from his already sweating forehead. Couldn’t she see what an idiot/asshole Carter was? Surely Jackson wasn’t the only person to notice his complete lack of personality.
Amanda tucked a hand into Carter’s arm and walked alongside as he toted her things.
At the trail head, the organizer handed out maps to everyone then told them to be back at five. “The sun goes down at six so if we don’t have a full headcount at 5:15, we’ll send out a search party.” The man laughed then waved his hands like Noah sending his flock into the ship, two by two. Carter dropped into step by Amanda and her friend. It was a dumb move since the path wasn’t wide enough. Then Jackson had a thought.
He and Carter had competed in almost everything since they were kids. Technically it started right after Carter’s sister died but he never brought up specific dates. Carter was strong and built like a college quarterback. He worked hard to stay fit and hated that Jackson’s natural athleticism often beat out his own work ethic. Jackson sidled up to his friend. “Have you looked at the map yet?”
Carter glinted into the sun above Jackson’s head. “No, why?”
Jackson unfolded the paper. “There are four trails. Each one is different and they’re classified by difficulty. Let’s take this one here and first one to the summit buys the other a beer.”
Carter glanced at the map. “You do realize that the drinks in the cooler are free and they have beer, water, and juices? Technically, we’re not buying anything.”
Jackson slapped Carter on the back. “Such a smartass. Okay, then first one up to the summit and back wins. That means the first to reach that cooler full of drinks.”
Carter’s eyes flickered with interest. “What do I win?”
“Assuming you actually make it down first, you win…I don’t know. What about…”
Amanda twisted the cap off a water bottle with a click. “Skinny dipping in the river behind those trees while the rest of us cook and clean up.”
Gulp. Jackson leaned into her ear and whispered, “Would that be with or without you?”
Her hair whipped his cheek as she stepped into a power walk. She glanced over her shoulder. “Without. This isn’t a team event. See you in my dust, Jax.”
Hmmmm. That idea backfired. Beating Carter would be easy; the guy never bested him at anything. Beating Amanda though? He could do it but she might hate him even more.
Four more steps and she vanished into the trees. The image of Amanda skinny dipping stopped him dead for a couple of seconds. Long enough for Carter to dart past and disappear behind her. Oh, hell no. If anyone was going to be in that ice-cold, fish-infested water with—or just watching—Amanda, it wasn’t going to be Carter.
About the author…Shelley K. Wall.
Shelley grew up in Missouri, graduated from Oklahoma State University, and took post graduate courses from OSU and the University of Wyoming. She’s a member of RWA, Sisters In Crime (SinC), The Literary Guild, and Houston Writer’s Guild. She writes daily, striving to perfect a voice that supplies enjoyable and romantic reads. She has yet to meet a person she doesn’t like or a job that’s not worth enjoying. She writes with humor, drama, and a desire to share life’s precious moments. Shelley currently lives in Texas with her family.
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Links to Shelley’s website, blog, books, etc.
Website: http://shelleykwall.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/skwallbooks
Twitter @skwallbooks
FIND ME Purchase Links
Amazon http://goo.gl/RlVcXI
Barnes & Noble http://goo.gl/QAj3Dj
Kobo http://goo.gl/aPPrjh
I hope you enjoy the recipe Shelley is sharing with us today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!
Karen
P.S. We’re at 172 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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Mom’s Homemade Donuts
I don’t really have any great cooking talent which is ironic considering I grew up on a farm and had a lot of fresh food available. When my boys were little I would buy the rolls of biscuits in the refrigerator section and use a bottle lid to cut the center out. I would then deep fry them and roll them in powdered sugar. My boys devoured them…Mom’s homemade donuts. I also make a killer spaghetti and meatloaf recipe but those are secrets that I keep in the family…along with a hundred thousand other people that buy the same packaged mixes. My chicken noodle and dumpling soup is my only secret recipe that is mine and only mine. Sorry, not telling that one. It’s mine. 
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Shelley is giving away an ebook copy of FIND ME to one lucky winner who comments on her Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** blog. Don’t miss this chance to read Shelley’s holiday story. Thanks, Shelley, for sharing your release and favorite recipe with us!
November 25, 2014
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Twice Tempted by Eileen Dreyer
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!
TWICE TEMPTED
A Drake’s Rakes Novel
By EILEEN DREYER
Book Blurb
Fiona Ferguson’s troubles began with a kiss . . .
It feels like a lifetime ago that Alex Knight saved Fiona from certain doom . . . and stole a soul-shattering kiss for good measure. Wanting nothing more than to keep her safe, he left her in the care of her grandfather, the Marquess of Dourne.
But Fiona was hardly safe. As soon as he could, the marquess cast her and her sister out on the streets with only her wits to keep them alive.
Alex has never forgotten that long-ago kiss. Now the dashing spy is desperate to make up for failing his duty once before. This time he will protect Fiona once and for all, from a deadly foe bent on taking revenge on the Ferguson line-and anyone who stands in the way . . .
TWICE TEMPTED
A Drake’s Rakes Novel
By EILEEN DREYER
Excerpt
For the fifth time that day, Fiona Ferguson thanked the education she had received at Last Chance Academy. It had been an awful school, but the staff had definitely beaten the maidenly arts into its students. Because of it, Fiona could draw a figure, sing a tune, play a reasonably melodic piano, sew a sampler, and set a dinner table. All of which she taught to the Blackheath neighborhood girls, along with Latin, Mathematics, Globes, and Natural Philosophy.
As she accompanied the last of her students to the door, she thanked her friend Margaret Bryan most of all for the chance to do both, at least for now. If not for Margaret, Fiona and Mairead would have been back on the streets. Instead, at least until the lease ran out in two months, they had a roof, some furniture, and a bit of egg money.
Fiona also had a blistering headache, but that was because of the sleep she was forfeiting trying to keep their heads above water. And that was such a familiar state that she barely noticed it.
“We’ll come tomorrow, then, Miss Fee?” eight-year-old Nancy Peters asked as Fiona knelt to button her coat.
“No, my dear. Tomorrow is Saturday. Your mother will need you about the shop. But I expect you to practice your addition and your curtsies.”
Giving a gap-toothed grin, the tiny girl with her white-blond braids dropped almost to the ground. Chuckling, Fiona helped right her. “You will be curtsying to the likes of Mrs. Walsh, Nancy. Not the queen.”
The little girl’s grin was still cheeky. “But Mrs. Walsh thinks she is the queen. Will Miss Mary be here when we come back?”
“Oh, I expect so. She is just busy working today.”
Nancy gave a solemn nod. “Counting stars.”
“Exactly. Now, off with you before your mother worries.”
She taught children of shopkeepers and chemists, pupils Margaret had groomed and then been forced to leave because of frail health. Fiona hoped her friend’s health would benefit from her move to Margate. They had a debate to finish over Fermat’s Last Theorem.
In the meantime, though, at least for two months, the very lucky Ferguson sisters would keep up the town house where Margaret had run her school for children of enlightened parents. Within that time, Fiona prayed she would be able to find another place they could afford to stay and teach. If not…well, she had faced uncertainty before. And if there was one thing Fiona Ferguson excelled in, it was dealing with uncertainty.
After watching the little girl hop down the steps of the tidy brick row house, Fiona closed the door and returned to the south parlor to clean up the slates and books Margaret had loaned her.
Anyone from Hawesworth Castle would have been appalled at her living conditions. Rather than the hundred servants Hawesworth enjoyed, she and Mairead had one female helper and one man-of-all-work they shared with two other families. More often than not she was paid in foodstuffs and services. In fact, Fiona’s next chore for the day was to help Mrs. Quick figure out how to stretch the ham hock Nancy Peter’s butcher father had exchanged for the week’s lessons.
Since most of the furniture had gone with Margaret, the guest salon was graced with no more than a tinny pianoforte, an unpretty brown settee, two stiff-backed chairs, and a few odd tables Fiona had negotiated for French lessons, which was plenty. If Fiona and Mairead were working, they sat at the dining table Fiona had acquired from the rag-and-bone man. If they weren’t, they shared the warm kitchen with Mrs. Quick. The only rug resided in the schoolroom, and the only artwork had been done by her students. She and Mairead shared a bed, rationed coal, and turned cuffs and hems. Other than that and the roof over their heads, they had nothing.
They had everything. They were off the streets. They had food and heavy cloaks and a bit of coal for the fires. They had their correspondence from their friends around Europe, which was their only frivolous expense, and the Royal Observatory up the hill. And they had each other. For that Fiona was most grateful. Now that Ian was gone, Mairead was all she had left in the world.
That thought brought Fiona up sharp, leaving her standing alone in the echoing room, slates in one hand, the other hand pressed against the shard of grief that had lodged in her chest. Considering how little she had seen her brother Ian while growing up, she was surprised how sharp her grief still sat on her shoulders. It was as if a foundation stone had gone missing from her house, threatening its stability.
No, she thought, eyes briefly squeezed shut. It was as if she had been left to balance a heavy, unwieldy load on only one leg. She had done it before, of course. This time, though, there was no hope of regaining that balance. Mama was gone, Ian was gone, and the only person left who loved her was Mairead. And Mairead couldn’t help her. It was Fiona’s task to help Mairead.
Deliberately opening her eyes, Fiona put the slates away and set off for the kitchen, in the hopes she would find Mrs. Quick preparing dinner.
“There you are,” Mrs. Quick snapped from where she was chopping carrots at the counter. “Last of the brats gone?”
Fighting a grin, Fiona lifted her apron from a hook by the door and slipped it over her head. “Indeed, they are, Mrs. Quick,” she said as she reached around to tie it. “You are once again safe from shrill voices, sticky fingers, and the tramp of small feet.”
In response, Mrs. Quick went after her carrots as if they were tender young necks.
Mrs. Quick was another new experience, left behind with Margaret’s blessings. A large, rigidly groomed woman with a taste for bright colors and sherry, the housekeeper was dour and acerbic, the majority of her interaction consisting of her opinions on the twins, the school, and the world. Nothing pleased Mrs. Quick except a perfect pie crust, and she thought women knowing Latin or mathematics went against all that was holy.
On the other hand, she enjoyed nothing more than a challenge, and trying to help Fiona stretch their budget to make ends meet was a definite challenge. Besides, this was the only house that put up with her temperament. Even Mrs. Quick’s sister had declined the opportunity to take her in.
She seemed to understand Mairead better than most, though, and had some excellent ideas for keeping her occupied. If she was the price Fiona had to pay for warmth, food and safety, she was glad to pay it.
“Well, then, Mrs. Quick,” she said, smiling. “How may I assist you?”
Mrs. Quick gave her a quick scowl. “You can get out of my kitchen. Sit down somewheres. You look like death on a stick.”
Fiona managed a smile. “How could I? We’re rich today, Mrs. Quick. An entire ham hock, and we didn’t even have to step out into the fog to get it.”
But Mrs. Quick was correct. She was beginning to feel like death on a stick.
Mrs. Quick gave an impatient hmmph. “You tell me. What good is Latin to a butcher’s daughter?”
Fiona sat at the scrubbed table and picked up an onion and a knife. “Maybe none. But maybe Nancy will become a governess herself. Think of the opportunities a good understanding of the romance languages provides.”
Mrs. Quick didn’t bother to answer. She just reached over, snatched the knife from Fiona’s hand, and pointed it at her. “Your sister will be here soon. You’ll get no rest then. So get it now.” Fiona balked, but Mrs. Quick smacked her wrist with the flat of the blade. “Go on. Nuthin’ you were gonna do I can’t.”
When the older woman also grabbed the onion, Fiona knew it was time to surrender. Getting slowly to her feet, she smiled. “I would kiss you,” she said, “but I fear it would only make you more severe.”
“I’d wallop you like a redheaded stepchild,” the older woman said, then pointed toward the back stairs and resumed her glare.
Fiona smiled and waved, but she obeyed. Sleep did sound seductive, come to think of it. Just a bit, like a refreshing sip of water. She could lay her head on a soft pillow and dream of sines and cosines. Of ham hock–and-vegetable soup.
It was inevitable, of course. Halfway up the stairs she was brought up short by the sound of the front door knocker. She knew she should go down and answer it. She spent a moment making sure her lace collar was flat against her ubiquitous black kerseymere dress, perfectly aware she was hesitating as long as she could in the hopes Mrs. Quick would intervene.
Just when she’d decided to turn around, she heard the slam of a knife against a butcher block. “Don’t you worry yourself,” came the strident notes of sarcasm. “I was just dyin’ to talk to strangers.”
Then came the footsteps, sharp, precise, impatient. Fiona smiled.
She was turning to follow, when she heard a man’s voice. “Excuse me. Is Mrs. Margaret Bryan at home?”
Fiona stumbled to a halt, her heart seizing. It couldn’t be.
Could it?
Just the possibility took the stuffings out of her knees, landing her on the steps like an eavesdropping child. She couldn’t breathe, of a sudden; it felt as if bubbles had been caught up beneath her sternum, like champagne drunk too quickly.
“Mrs. Bryan don’t live here anymore,” Mrs. Quick snapped.
Fiona held her breath, as if it could improve her hearing.
“Could you provide us with her new address?” the voice came again. “It is very important.”
It was he. Oh, dear God, it was. She squeezed her eyes shut. She swore her stomach did a complete flip inside her chest. The last time she’d felt like this was four years earlier, in a cow pasture on a rainy spring day, as a man sliced off her hair with a knife. As he bent to kiss her. She swore she could almost smell the fresh-mown hay in that damp field, could feel the sure clasp of a man’s hand and the skittering of unrecognized arousal. She had been sixteen, and he had come to take her back to school. He had been kind. She had fallen head over heels in love, a girl too new to anticipation to understand its peril.
The only other time she had seen him, he had come to deliver the news that her brother was dead. He had still been so kind. But it was only now that she noticed.
She didn’t even remember getting up from the stair, but suddenly she was running down the hallway toward the foyer to see Mrs. Quick poised before the open front door, hand on hip, face pursed in displeasure at the sight of the two men on the stoop.
“I don’t know where she is, and if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” she said and gave the door a good push.
“Wait!” Fiona called, slowing down, as if it would make her look less frantic. “Let them in, Mrs. Quick.”
“Don’t think I should,” the woman retorted with a squint at the two town bucks. “Don’t need their kind nosin’ around the school.”
Fiona almost laughed out loud. “I sincerely doubt the gentlemen are here to ravage our children,” she said, hoping they couldn’t hear how overwhelmed she felt.
Taking in a surreptitious breath, she stepped past her housekeeper. “Lord Whitmore,” she said with a smile. “It is so nice to see you.”
It was beyond nice. It was beyond anything. He was truly standing there before her, wind-chapped and tousled, sleek as a big cat. He had such broad shoulders, such angular, chiseled features, with only an odd cant to his nose to make him seem human. Fiona was afraid her heart would simply seize up, battered by joy and grief.
“By God,” he said suddenly, staring at her. “It really is you.”
About the author, Eileen Dreyer…
A retired trauma nurse, Eileen lives in her native St. Louis with her husband, children, and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.
Dreyer won her first publishing award in 1987, being named the best new Contemporary Romance Author by RT Bookclub. Since that time she has also garnered not only six other writing awards from RT, but five RITA Awards from Romance Writers of America, which secures her only the fourth place in the Romance Writers of America prestigious Hall of Fame. Since extending her reach to suspense, she has also garnered a coveted Anthony Award nomination.
A frequent speaker at conferences, she maintains membership in Romance Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, Mystery Writers of America, and, just in case things go wrong, Emergency Nurses Association and International Association of Forensic Nurses.
Eileen is an addicted traveler, having sung in some of the best Irish pubs in the world, and admits she sees research as a handy way to salve her insatiable curiosity. She counts film producers, police detectives and Olympic athletes as some of her sources and friends. She’s also trained in forensic nursing and death investigation, although she doesn’t see herself actively working in the field, unless this writing thing doesn’t pan out.
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Links to Eileen’s website, blog, books, etc.
I’d love people to stop by my website, where I have my publishing info, my research info and a section under Extras devoted to my love of travel (and travel recommendations). I’m not organized enough to blog per se, but I do microblog on Facebook, where I’ve just shared my experience being a contestant on #Jeopardy! (Those posts also find their way to the website.)
https://www.facebook.com/EileenDreyer
@eileendreyer
Thanks so much for letting me join you. I loved the questions and hopes it helps you get a picture of who I am and my work. As my penguin friend would say, adios! Es tiempo de bailar!
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Eileen is giving away a print copy of TWICE TEMPTED to one lucky winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Killer Book Bench blogs. Don’t miss this chance to read Eileen’s new story. Thanks, Eileen, for sharing your newest release with us!
November 24, 2014
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Book Blast ~ Nellie by Cynthia Woolf
Nellie (The Brides of San Francisco I)
by Cynthia Woolf
Quick Facts
Release Date: November, 2014
Genre: Historical Romance. Western
Formats to buy: Paperbacks and all ebook formats
Book SynopsisNellie Wallace is a young widow with two children. In post civil-war New York, the men are scarce and none want the burden of a wife with children. Her dead husband’s family is wealthy, and cruel. Desperate to escape their influence, and eager for a home, a husband, and a stable life for her children, Nellie decides to make a new life in San Francisco as a mail order bride.
Saloon owner Blake Malone is a bachelor and likes it that way. He worked hard for everything he has, but the San Francisco City Council won’t approve his plans to build a family emporium unless he is a family man himself. The solution? A mail order bride from New York who will bring him a ready-made family, stability, and the council’s approval.
Blake expects his future wife to care for his home and, other than helping him impress the city council, to stay out of his business. He expects life as usual. What he gets is an unexpected desire to win Nellie’s heart, a dangerous threat to his new bride, and a rich benefactor determined to steal his new family out from under him. Blake believed his battle for success a hard one. But he will discover that the battle to win Nellie’s heart and keep his family safe is going to take everything he’s got.
KOBO
Excerpt:
PROLOGUE
April 28, 1865
RAP! RAP! RAP!
If only she could fix her problems with a needle and thread she’d be set. Nellie looked up from the socks she was darning toward the knocking on the front door.
Who could that be? She set aside the socks, straightened her dress, checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall in the hall, patted her blond hair back into place and then answered the door.
“Mrs. Robert Wallace?” asked the soldier in dress uniform who stood at attention on her front porch.
Oh, God. No. Please. No. “Yes,” she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “I…I’m Mrs. Wallace.”
The young soldier handed her an envelope. “I regret to have to inform you that Lieutenant Robert Wallace was killed at the Battle of Appomattox on April 8, 1865. I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Wallace.”
Nellie didn’t know what to say over the lump in her throat. She always knew this could happen—from the first moment Robert joined, to his last farewell eight months before Violet was born.
“I, uh, thank you, Officer…”
“Black, ma’am. Sergeant Black.”
“Thank you for letting me know, Sergeant.” Her grip tightened on the door knob. “I…I have to sit down now.”
“Of course, ma’am. Do you need help?”
Nellie shook her head. “No. Thank you. I’ll be alright.”
The man saluted her, turned and walked down the sidewalk to the waiting carriage.
How many of these calls did he have to make today? Was I the only one? I doubt it. Not in a city the size of New York.
She closed the door and leaned against the wall next to it, her legs no longer able to support her, she slid to the floor. Tears left salty trails on her face, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember crying. Screaming, cursing God, yes, but crying, no. Even though our marriage wasn’t what I’d dreamed it could have been when I was a child, I shall miss him. He had his good side, he was funny and could make her laugh. He was gentle every where except…no I will not think about that now. I endured and have two beautiful children.
How am I to tell Henry his father is dead? Violet was just a baby and didn’t know her daddy but Henry… Her son missed his father something fierce. Robert had doted on Henry. They spent so much time together that Henry cried for days when his father left the last time. And now I have to tell him his father is never coming home. How do I do that?
She wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands, took the hanky from her apron pocket and blew her nose. No need to put it off. The task would be difficult enough, without waiting and making it harder. Perhaps she and Henry could grieve together. In any case, she needed to be strong for her son and daughter. She was all they had now.
Taking a deep breath, she mounted the stairs to the play room and her children.
Get to know the author:
Cynthia Woolf is the award winning and best-selling author of ten historical western romance books, one short story, and one novella in the anthology Lost in a Kiss, with more books on the way. She was born in Denver, Colorado and raised in the mountains west of Golden. She spent her early years running wild around the mountain side with her friends.
Their closest neighbor was one quarter of a mile away, so her little brother was her playmate and her best friend. That fierce friendship lasted until his death in 2006.
Cynthia was and is an avid reader. Her mother was a librarian and brought new books home each week. This is where young Cynthia first got the storytelling bug. She wrote her first story at the age of ten. A romance about a little boy she liked at the time.
Cynthia loves writing and reading romance. Her first western romance Tame A Wild Heart, was inspired by the story her mother told her of meeting Cynthia’s father on a ranch in Creede, Colorado. Although Tame A Wild Heart takes place in Creede that is the only similarity between the stories. Her father was a cowboy not a bounty hunter and her mother was a nursemaid (called a nanny now) not the ranch owner.
Cynthia credits her wonderfully supportive husband Jim and the great friends she’s made at CRW for saving her sanity and allowing her to explore her creativity.
WEBSITE – www.cynthiawoolf.com
NEWSLETTER - http://bit.ly/1qBWhFQ
Other Titles by Cynthia Woolf:
REDEEMED BY A REBEL (Book 1, Destiny in Deadwood series)
HEALED BY A HEART (Book 2, Destiny in Deadwood series)
SEDUCED BY A SINNER (Book 3, Destinyin Deadwood series)
CAPITAL BRIDE (Book 1, Matchmaker & Co. series)
HEIRESS BRIDE (Book 2, Matchmaker & Co. series)
FIERY BRIDE (Book 3, Matchmaker & Co. series)
TAME A WILD HEART (Book 1, Tame series)
TAME A WILD WIND (Book 2, Tame series)
TAME A WILD BRIDE (Book 3, Tame series)
TAME A SUMMER HEART (short story, Tame series)
GIVEAWAY!
Be part of the tour and win an amazing prize!
$25 gift card at the end of the book blast to one lucky commentor so what are you waiting for??? COMMENT!!!
November 23, 2014
**Author Peek** Interview with Eileen Dreyer
**AUTHOR PEEK** Interview with EILEEN DREYER
INTRODUCING…Eileen Dreyer.
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 writer) what hobbies you have, etc. Whatever you’d like to share to introduce yourself.
Well, I’m a Midwestern girl, born and bred in St. Louis, Missouri and still living there with all my extended family (which amounts to about 40 people for Thanksgiving).
I’ve been writing for myself since I was ten and ran out of Nancy Drews to read. I truly had a panic attack. And then, suddenly, I thought, “Wait. I can write my own. And (far more important to a writer) I can make them turn out the way I want.” So I wrote stories for myself and my friends all through high school. But I never considered that a career. I thought I’d be a Broadway star. At least I did until my mom told me to get a real job.
So I became a nurse. In fact, I became a trauma nurse, which I did love, for 17 years, until I burned out. By then I had decided to actually try publishing (one of my nursing friends challenged me, and I cannot turn down a good challenge), and had five Harlequin romances under my belt as Kathleen Korbel. My husband, who has ever been my biggest fan, encouraged me to focus on my writing, and eventually, here I am with 42 novels and 9 short stories in print.
My other passion right now is traveling. My husband and I have been very lucky to get to places like Jaipur, India and the Atacama Desert in Chile. This spring I’m going back (for about the 14th time) to Ireland and then to the 200th anniversary and reenactment of the Battle of Waterloo (which dovetails nicely into not only my love of travel but my love of research).
1. What genre(s) do you write and why?
The two big areas I’ve written in have been romance and suspense. I write romance because I need happy endings. When I was working ERs, I only wrote romance. As I recently told Alex Trebek (how’s that for name-dropping), I like to see good things happen to good people, and when you work ER, sometimes romance was the only way I could manage it. I wrote in most areas of contemporary romance except erotica, publishing 25 Harlequins that earned me only the fourth place in the Romance Writers Hall of Fame, of which I am very proud. Now, however, I’m focused on historical romance, particularly the Regency era, or as I prefer to call it, the Napoleonic Wars (grow up with 5 brothers and your priorities get a bit skewed). I call my books Historical Romantic Adventure, since there are inevitably nefarious spies to overcome (did I mention I like to write suspense?)
As for suspense, I wrote—and will write—medical forensic suspense. I mean, why not kill off everyone who annoyed me when I worked? It’s great stress relief. I also got to address medical issues I felt strongly about, although I go by the old Jack Goldwyn motto. “If you want to send a message, send a telegram.” I was always much more interested in putting my audience on the edge of their seat (and hopefully still do, since my suspenses are back in print).
2. If you were to choose one superpower, what would it be?
Flight. I don’t know why, but I’ve always yearned to fly. And it’s really frustrating, because I don’t even fly in my dreams. But oh, to be able to soar above the earth, away from all the noise and strife, just hanging on a warm current. It would also help getting around during rush hour. ;0}
3. Do you ever get stuck when you’re writing a book? What do you do to get “unstuck”?
Of course. It’s usually halfway in, especially during the suspenses, which are very linearly plotted—of which I have little skill. I get up and take a walk or go gardening (well, in the summer). Or I work on a different kind of writing. Something just for me, to loosen up the brain cells. If all else fails, I’ll just lie in bed dreaming. Not asleep, just relaxing. Amazing how it helps the right brain unlock.
4. What is your least favorite part of writing?
Those times when the blank page simply refuses to fill. Especially transition scenes. The big stuff is easy to write: conflict, action, chases, lovemaking. It’s those horrible little scenes that move you from one place to the other that seem as sticky as mud.
5. If we came to your house for dinner, what would you prepare for us?
Well, we’ve kind of become the royalty of barbecue at our house. My husband is in international sales, and we end up playing den parents to a lot of visitors from diverse cultures, and the one thing they all want to experience is a real American barbecue. So we pull out the pork steaks (a real St. Louis tradition), beef steak, brats or chicken, baked beans, potato salad, cole slaw, deviled eggs, green bean casserole, and if I’m feeling really patriotic, apple pie. We are famous around the world for our meals. And the company is wonderful.
6. Wh at is your typical day like ?
I wish I had a typical day. As opposed to what we were taught, I am not an everyday writer. I work every day, but I’m what we lovingly call a binge and purge writer. I work out the scenes in my head like editing a movie, and when they work, sit down and spit them out. That might be only once every 3 to 4 days. And then around deadline time I hole up in a motel or B&B and slam through about 6 or 7 chapters in a couple of days concentrated writing.
It was my husband’s idea to send me off with my computer, a vat of iced tea, music and a nearby Chinese restaurant, especially on deadline. I am not a pleasant person on deadline. When my daughter was 6 she called it deadline psychosis.
So what I try to do is do business, email, social media when I get up (well, after hopefully getting a little exercise in)(hopefully). I have to do business before 4, since I’m dealing with the east coast. If I can I run away to a coffee shop so I don’t see all the stuff waiting to be done at home (I have really bad ADD and can be distracted by lint). My best writing days are when my husband travels, because my creative brain wakes at 4 (I used to be an evening/night nurse. I’m worthless in the morning), and I write til about 10. I pick up again about midnight and go ’til I can’t, usually 4 AM. When my husband is home, the schedule gets lopsided, since I want to spend time with him. So I start about 11 PM and go ’til I can’t, then start again in the mor….er, noon.
7. What is most difficult for you to write? Characters, conflict or emotions? Why?
I’m very right brain, so plot is what gives me the most trouble, especially when I’m writing suspense. I have no linear logic. And anything with an investigation takes linear logic. You know, find the clues, recognize the clues, decipher the clues, make a decision based on the clues, start over. Once I have my character, I’m good with that part of the story. Because conflict, emotions, goals, motivations all have to be in place to really know who you’re dealing with. I also find that one of my own tricks is to find out where the person lives. What is their chosen—or not—atmosphere. In movies it’s set decoration. Think of Bull Durham. Annie doesn’t have to say a word to know who she is. All you have to do is see her house and how she dresses. I love that.
8. A penguin walks into your office, right now, wearing a sombrero. What does he say to you and why is he here?
Hola, Senora, it is now happy hour on the South Pole. Shall we dance and share a drink?
9. If you could wave a magic wand, what ill in the world would you solve and why?
You had to ask me right after an election. My answer would be willful ignorance. True ignorance is excusable, because a person usually simply doesn’t have access to information. On the other hand, willful ignorance is a choice and separates people from each other. It is selfish and small and prevents people from understanding their neighbor and helping where needed. It perpetuates our worst behavior, and becomes complicit in our worst societal ills.
10. Tell us about your next book & when is it being published?
Happily. TWICE TEMPTED is one of my Drakes’ Rakes series about a group of Regency gentlemen who act as agents for the British crown (I know. It’s been done. But I hope I do it differently. And I do so love nefarious spies). The series in total will be 9 books long, so I’ve divided it into 3 trilogies by the heroines. TWICE TEMPTED is the second of the LAST CHANCE ACADEMY series. Fiona Ferguson and her twin sister Mairead have been thrown out by their aristocratic grandfather to fend for themselves. Alex Knight, Earl of Whitemore, is determined to find them and bring them back into society, even though most people believe their brother Ian is a traitor. Alex can’t imagine they would object, but he doesn’t know that the two scientist sisters have secrets he can’t imagine and enemies none of them anticipated.
In the book I get to enjoy my penchant for suspense and share the research I’ve gleaned on the important and mostly forgotten role of women in science during that period. And anyone who has read the series, be assured that both Lady Bea and Chuffy, two of my favorite secondary characters ever, have big parts to play.
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Links to Eileen’s website, blog, books, etc.
I’d love people to stop by my website, where I have my publishing info, my research info and a section under Extras devoted to my love of travel (and travel recommendations). I’m not organized enough to blog per se, but I do microblog on Facebook, where I’ve just shared my experience being a contestant on #Jeopardy! (Those posts also find their way to the website.)
https://www.facebook.com/EileenDreyer
@eileendreyer
Thanks so much for letting me join you. I loved the questions and hopes it helps you get a picture of who I am and my work. As my penguin friend would say, adios! Es tiempo de bailar!
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BE SURE TO COME BACK to read more about Eileen, her new release, and an excerpt from TWICE TEMPTED, a Drake’s Rakes novel, on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench. Happy Reading!
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Eileen is giving away a print copy of TWICE TEMPTED to one lucky winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Killer Book Bench blogs. Don’t miss this chance to read Eileen’s new story. Thanks, Eileen, for sharing your newest release with us!
November 20, 2014
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** with Melissa McClone
Karen’s Killer Fixin’s **AUTHOR SPECIAL** with MELISSA McCLONE!
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, MELISSA McCLONE, and her favorite recipe for GINGERBREAD PEOPLE!
HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
A Copper Mountain Christmas Novella
By MELISSA McCLONE
Book Blurb
Ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon…the smells of Christmas. The smells of home.
Rachel Murphy longs for home and family. Since childhood, she’s dreamed of owning her own pastry shop, but after being burned by a celebrity chef and losing her lease in Arizona, Rachel’s spending the holidays with her brother in Montana. To keep her dream alive, she’s creating custom gingerbread houses and selling them around town. All she needs is a bigger kitchen…and to stay away from her brother’s handsome boss.
Former venture capitalist Nate Vaughn has embraced his inner cowboy and now runs a successful dude ranch where Rachel’s brother works. Nate’s commercial kitchen is perfect for Rachel’s baking needs, and seeing the cute blonde’s business acumen, Nate knows she’d be the perfect partner for a new business. When he makes her an offer she can’t refuse, he discovers he’s interested in more than her gingerbread.
While Nate could make her dreams come true, Rachel’s heart, as well as her head, tells her mixing business with anything else could be a recipe for disaster. Should she return to Arizona, and leave Nate and her new eager-for-more customers behind? Or can Nate convince her that, here with him in the mountains of Montana, she’s already home? For Christmas…forever.
HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
A Copper Mountain Christmas Novella
By MELISSA McCLONE
Excerpt
Rachel leaned against the island counter, watching Nate Vaughn’s retreating backside, relieved to see him go. Forget about wanting a nice guy in her life, even flirting was too strenuous for her bruised heart. She only wished she hadn’t noticed how nicely Nate’s jeans fit or how his leather jacket showed off wide shoulders or how the duffel bag he carried made her wonder where he’d spent last night.
None of those things should matter.
Not to her.
He might be show-off sexy with that razor stubble on his handsome face and an I’d-like-to-get-to-know-you-better smile, but she didn’t need his business help or advice. She didn’t want anything from him. Well, except the use of his kitchen.
Nate glanced over his shoulder, meeting her gaze straight on.
Busted for staring. Heat rose up her neck. Good thing she was flushed from the heat in the kitchen. Maybe her blush wouldn’t give her away.
His lips curved into a wry grin.
Too late. Her face burned hotter. “Forget something?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, save a piece of gingerbread for me.”
By the time she finished baking, she would have platefuls of ends and cutouts. “No problem, as long as you don’t mind the scraps.”
“Don’t mind at all. My hungry stomach won’t know the difference.”
She expected him to turn back. Walk away. Let her work.
Nate continued staring. He must want another look at the gingerbread houses. Except… she wet her lips… he was looking at her.
The hunger in his eyes made Rachel’s blood simmer. His gaze ran the length of her slowly, appreciatively, like he wanted a taste of her.
Her heart thudded.
Something stirred inside Rachel. Excitement, yes. But also possibility.
He made her feel like an unexpected, but welcomed, guest at a cocktail party. That her flour-stained clothes were as appealing as a little black dress.
Did she dare let herself have some fun? Something missing from her life for a long time.
Self-preservation told her to look away. Run away would be better.
Safer.
She might not have dated many men, but she knew that look from the last cowboy who had broken her heart after Ty had broken his nose. Nate might be a great guy according to her brother, but she needed to keep her distance. She knew better than to think she could handle a man like Nate Vaughn.
About the author…Melissa McClone.
Melissa McClone has published over thirty novels with Harlequin and Tule Publishing Group. She has also been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® award. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house.
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Links to Melissa’s website, blog, books, etc.
Website: http://www.melissamcclone.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/melissamcclonebooks
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/melissamcclone
Amazon Buy Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Home-Christmas-Copper-Mountain-ebook/dp/B00GEHN8ZW
I hope you enjoy the recipe Melissa is sharing with us today on Karen’s Killer Fixin’s. Happy eating!
Karen
P.S. We’re at 171 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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Melissa McClone’s Gingerbread People
Ingredients:
3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 stick butter (or margarine), softened
2 large eggs
1/4 cup molasses
3-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1-1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted
1 or 2 tbsp milk
Food Coloring as desired
Directions:
At low speed, cream sugar and butter until thoroughly combined. Add eggs and molasses. Mix until combined. Sift together flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture and combine with a spatula. Remove dough from bowl; wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper. Allow the dough to sit at room temperature for about 15 minutes. Take 1/2 cup of dough at a time and roll onto a floured board until about 1/8-inch thick. Cut out with gingerbread boy and girl cookie cutters. Transfer the cookies from the board to the prepared cookie sheets. Bake for 10 minutes, until just beginning to brown at the edges. Transfer to wire racks to cool. To make the icing, combine the confectioners’ sugar and milk. Divide mixture into thirds; leave 1/3 white, and color 1/3 green, and the final third red. Decorate piping eyes, mouths, buttons, and bow ties.
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Melissa is giving away a $10 Starbucks card with three recipe cards including her Gingerbread People one, autographed backlist book, two gingerbread cookie cutters, gingerbread cupcake kit, Sweet Treats 2015 date book, Moonstruck dark chocolate bar, Montana Born Books Post-It Notes and Tule Publishing Nail file to one lucky winner who comments on her Killer Fixin’s **Author Special** blog. Don’t miss this chance to read Melissa’s holiday story. Thanks, Melissa, for sharing your release and favorite recipe with us!
November 19, 2014
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Family Plot by Sheri Cobb South
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!
Sheri’s confession:
I have a confession to make: I’ve never been a very disciplined writer. After all, I’m an Artist. As everyone knows, Artists work when—and only when—they are inspired by their muse. And if my muse decides to take a pet and not show up for a few days—or weeks, or months—well, that’s not my fault, is it? My muse will return in its own good time—whenever that may be. Needless to say, thanks to my uncooperative muse, it usually took me a year or more to write a single book.
All that changed shortly after I moved to Colorado, when I had coffee with Connie Willis. In case you’re not familiar with her work, Ms. Willis is the winner of multiple Hugo awards and perhaps the premier science fiction writer in the country. I usually don’t read science fiction, but many of her books involve traveling back in time, and those books appeal to the historical writer in me—so much so that I introduced my then-teenaged daughter, Jessamy, to them. Although she’s no longer a teenager, Jessamy is now a major Connie Willis fangirl, so when I realized that Connie Willis lived only about twenty miles away, I contacted her and asked if she would be willing to autograph a book for Jessamy’s birthday. She agreed, and we met at a Starbucks in Greeley, where she is apparently a regular fixture.
We talked for an hour, and during the course of our conversation, she told me she does all her writing at Starbucks; when she tries to write at home, she said, she looks around the house and sees all the other things she “ought” to be doing instead.
Hmm, I thought, that sounds familiar. So the next morning, I took my laptop and went to my local Starbucks. I discovered that the internet connection there, while okay for the occasional bit of research, is too slow for efficiently posting status updates to Facebook, reading and replying to email, playing Candy Crush, and all the other things that tend to distract me when I’m on the computer at home. By the time I left Starbucks an hour later, I’d written a thousand words—and all without a peep from that fickle muse.
Since that first visit to Starbucks about two and a half years ago, I’ve written four novels of 65,000 words each, sold three of them, and am now at work on a fifth, which at the time of this writing is about two-thirds complete. What’s more, they all know me so well at Starbucks by this time that they’re hosting a launch party to celebrate the release of Family Plot, the first novel I wrote there.
And all without a peep from that fickle muse. It turns out I didn’t really need a muse to inspire me; all I needed was a change of scenery.
Well, that and a good dose of caffeine.
FAMILY PLOT
Another John Pickett Mystery
By SHERI COBB SOUTH
Book Blurb
In disgrace with her aristocratic in-laws, recently widowed Lady Fieldhurst is exiled to Scotland with her three young nephews in tow. On impulse, she and the boys decide to stay at an isolated seaside inn under an assumed name, where they can enjoy a holiday far away from the scandal that still plagues the family.
But trouble soon finds them when the boys discover an unconscious woman on the beach—a woman who bears a startling resemblance to the local laird’s daughter, missing and presumed dead for the last fifteen years. Uncertain whether to welcome her as a returning prodigal or denounce her as a fraud, Angus Kirkbride sends to London for a Bow Street runner—which presents a dilemma for Lady Fieldhurst, since she has chosen to call herself Mrs. Pickett after the handsome young man who saved her from hanging for the murder of her husband.
Meanwhile John Pickett, hopelessly pining for Lady Fieldhurst, resolves to forget her by marrying another. When magistrate Patrick Colquhoun receives Kirkbride’s summons, he packs Pickett off to Scotland before his most junior runner can do anything rash.
Upon his arrival, Pickett is surprised (though not at all displeased) to discover that he has acquired a “wife” in the person of Lady Fieldhurst. But when Angus Kirkbride dies only hours after announcing his intention of changing his will in his daughter’s favor, “Mr. and Mrs. Pickett” must join forces to discover the truth about a family reunion suddenly turned deadly.
FAMILY PLOT
Another John Pickett Mystery
By SHERI COBB SOUTH
Excerpt
“It appears we have only one room vacant tonight on account of the fine weather bringing all the anglers to the coast for a last bit of fishing ere the winter sets in,” the innkeeper informed Pickett. “That being the case, I’ve taken the liberty of having your valise sent up to your wife’s room. I hope that’s agreeable.”
“My—my wife, you say?”
“Aye—Mrs. Pickett. You did say that was your name?” the innkeeper asked in some consternation.
“Yes, that’s it.” Pickett darted a quick, bewildered glance up the staircase.
“You’ll think me a regular noddy for not connecting the pair of you at once. Truth to tell, I had the impression Mrs. Pickett was a widowed lady.”
“No, that’s quite—quite all right,” Pickett assured him, wanting only to be rid of the man so that he might resolve the situation with the woman whom the innkeeper imagined to be his wife.
He wondered what sort of female he would find upstairs; a woman of a certain age, apparently, if the innkeeper had assumed her to be a widow. He climbed the stairs with a growing sense of dread until, reaching the top, he stopped before the room the innkeeper had indicated. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the knob and opened the door.
About the author, Sheri Cobb South…
At the age of sixteen, Sheri Cobb South discovered Georgette Heyer, and came to the startling realization that she had been born into the wrong century. Although she doubtless would have been a chambermaid had she actually lived in Regency England, that didn’t stop her from fantasizing about waltzing the night away in the arms of a handsome, wealthy, and titled gentleman.
Since Georgette Heyer was dead and could not write any more Regencies, Ms. South came to the conclusion she would simply have to do it herself. In addition to her popular series of Regency mysteries featuring idealistic young Bow Street Runner John Pickett (described by All About Romance as “a little young, but wholly delectable”), she is the award-winning author of several Regency romances, including the critically acclaimed The Weaver Takes a Wife.
A native and long-time resident of Alabama, Ms. South recently moved to Loveland, Colorado, where she has a stunning view of Long’s Peak from her office window.
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Links to Sheri’s website, blog, books, etc.
Website: www.shericobbsouth.com
Thanks for stopping by to share your new release with us, Sheri!
November 18, 2014
Karen’s Killer Book Bench: Robin In The Hood by Diane J. Reed
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!
ROBIN IN THE HOOD
Book One in the Robbin’ Hearts Series
By DIANE J. REED
Book Blurb
“Is it any wonder I became a bank robber?”
But she never dreamed she’d fall in love . . .
Wealthy high school student Robin McArthur thinks she has it all figured out when it comes to bilking her work-a-holic dad for guilt money as a substitute for his genuine affection. Until one day he suffers a stroke at his law office, and she learns the brutal truth—
They’re broke.
Her stepmom has skipped the country.
And everyone from bankers to bookies has lined up in her dad’s hospital room to collect on the millions he’s racked up in debt.
Panicked and desperate, Robin figures she has two choices: either surrender to the pestering caseworker and live in a skanky foster home, or take a chance and sneak her dad out of the hospital to make a run for it. Little does she know that stealing a car and hitting the road means that before the day is through, she will rob her first bank.
Now an outlaw, Robin finds a backwoods trailer park to hide her dad from authorities where she encounters Creek, a bad-boy in crime who first steals her money and then steals her heart. The two of them embark on a round of increasingly dangerous heists to provide for their motley trailer park neighbors. But what Robin hadn’t counted on is the way these hardscrabble people begin to embrace her and become the first real family she’s ever known. And along the way, worldly-wise Creek teaches her how to develop a genuine relationship with her dad based on the hard truths of their lives instead of his past lies. As Robin and Creek’s criminal journey forces them to make gut-wrenching choices, they soon begin to discover that people are more precious than pocketbooks, and true love means opening your heart to the kinds of treasures money can’t buy.
ROBIN IN THE HOOD
Book One in the Robbin’ Hearts Series
By DIANE J. REED
Excerpt
First Glimpse
In my young adult romance Robin in the Hood, 15-year-old Robin McArthur finds out her formerly rich family has gone broke, so she runs away from her boarding school and devises a plan to rob banks to provide for her loved ones. When she walks up to a rural savings & loan for her very first hit, she suddenly spies the boy of her dreams. Here’s what happens:
As I scurried up the sidewalk, I had this strange, haunting feeling . . .
Like I was being watched.
I froze in place for a second, mere steps from the bank door.
There it was again . . .
That odd sensation that someone’s eyes were on my back.
Could the bank have hired security to watch over the building?
I swiftly scanned the roof and did a little spin to check the street on either side.
Give me a break, I thought, this is Podunkville! It’s not like they’re gonna have snipers in the bushes.
Sucking up my courage, I pointed my finger beneath my school cardigan like a concealed weapon and prepared to head inside. My heart started to do backflips, and I felt like any second it was going to spring from my chest.
“You can do this,” I barked under my breath, “you’ve got to! Just walk in there like you own the place, head to the nearest teller, and make your demand.”
Aside from the full-blown terror that popped and sizzled through my brain, another sound began to filter into my ears.
Laughter.
I slid my hand to my chest, just to check if it was me. After all, people do weird things in a panic, but I soon discovered that I wasn’t the source of the sound.
Glancing up, I spotted a shadow.
Straight ahead, beside a large sycamore tree. And it moved.
I squinted and inched to the left, peering into a particularly dark patch beside the wide tree trunk.
And that’s when I saw him.
Or I guess I should say, he chose to reveal himself.
A tall guy, maybe a year or two older than me, in a black t-shirt and torn, faded jeans. His tangled, sun-bleached hair looked like it had never seen scissors, yet it framed his tan skin and piercing blue eyes like a rugged surfer’s. To my surprise, he flashed a half-smile, making the jagged scar across his cheek press into a dark, thin line, like a dagger. For a second, I wondered if it was a warning—
“You gotta be kidding me,” he shook his head, folding his tattooed arms. “You honestly think you can take on this place?”
He leaned his tall frame against the tree, appearing amused. Instantly, I could tell from his ripped clothes, sinewy body, and nearly feral gaze that he was pretty much everything my boarding school had been paid so handsomely to keep out of my reach.
Beautiful.
Deadly.
And well within kissing distance—
Without warning, his intense eyes locked on mine as if we were the only two people who’d ever mattered on planet earth.
And all at once, I felt a weight dislodge and explode into a gazillion pieces inside my chest.
This is my heart—
This is my heart on CRACK.
I hyperventilated for a moment, fully acknowledging that I am the most undersexed teen this side of Mississippi.
Get a grip, I snapped at myself. Focus!
Okay, so I know most girls like me are diamond-wise and boy-foolish. So surely the only reason the hottest thing in the known universe is standing in front of me right now is because . . .
Well, um, because . . .
He wants to rob the same bank.
“Dammit!”
The guy laughed like I’d said that out loud.
“Shit!”
Yep, I’m pretty sure he heard that one, too.
I shuffled my feet, heaving a big sigh.
All right Mr. Rugged & Beautiful, I thought, folding my arms across my supremely-dorky school sweater. Think you can psyche me out? Well I’ve just completed a year and a half in mean-girl lockdown, where they make you check in your soul at the door in exchange for verbal switchblades, so don’t even think I’m gonna cave any time soon.
No fear.
I lifted my chin and gave him my iciest stare.
“First one inside hits the jackpot!” I said, darting into the bank’s front door before he could blink.
About the author, Diane J. Reed…
Diane J. Reed is a multi-award winning author who writes novels that are infused with enchantment, where characters dare to break through boundaries & believe in true love. She has a soft spot for artisans & outlaws of the heart, those of us who burn brightly to live each day as a gift–because it is! Along with her passion for books, she enjoys hiking, painting, chocolate & spending time with her family in the Rocky Mountains. She loves to hear from readers, so feel free to visit her at www.banditsranch.com to share the whispers of your spirit.
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Links to Diane’s website, blog, books, etc.
Author Website Link:
http://www.banditsranch.com
Books Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Diane-J.-Reed/e/B0071FXGOE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1413854466&sr=8-1
Robin In The Hood Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Robin-Hood-Robbin-Hearts-Book-ebook/dp/B00AK3RCZS/ref=sr_1_1_twi_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1413847360&sr=8-1&keywords=Diane+J.+Reed
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BE SURE TO COME BACK to read more about Diane, her release, and an excerpt from ROBIN IN THE HOOD, on Wednesday’s Karen’s Killer Book Bench. Happy Reading!
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**SPECIAL GIVEAWAY**: Diane is giving away a paperback copy of ROBIN IN THE HOOD and the sequel STONE OF THIEVES to one lucky winner who comments on her **Author Peek** Interview or Killer Book Bench blogs. Don’t miss this chance to read Diane’s story. Thanks, Diane, for sharing your release with us!
November 17, 2014
$ .99 Stocking Stuffer! Catch That Santa by Karen Docter
$.99 Stocking Stuffer
Catch That Santa by Karen Docter
Blurb
When widow, Sara Marks, hears her Grams has gone on the lam from Happy Acres Residence on Christmas Eve – on Santa’s arm, no less — she teams up with sexy stranger, Francisco de la Vega, to chase the couple down with one thing in mind. Keep her Grams from becoming Mrs. Claus. Of course, Francisco’s grandfather is not really Santa Claus, but Grams did run off to Vegas to marry him and she’s obviously not in her right mind.
Sara leaves her seven-month-old baby, Lanie, with a friend and she and Cisco head west in the worst snowstorm in decades, chasing his grandfather’s ’57 Ford Fairlane over the river and through the woods.
Will they catch Santa and his crazy Mrs. Claus before it’s too late? Or will love stop them in their tracks?
(Novelette, approximately 17,000 words/50 pages)
Catch That Santa by Karen Docter
Excerpt
“What do you mean, Grams ran off with Santa Claus?” Sara Marks stared at the first floor orderly, Buddy Cantor, who’d met her outside her grandmother’s room at Happy Acres Residence. She could barely catch her breath after dashing through the facility carrying her sleeping seven-month-old. It had taken her a full thirty minutes to drive from the church near her apartment across Denver’s snow packed streets in her crotchety, old Ford, when it should have taken ten. Twenty minutes too long if her grandmother was truly missing.
She should never have gone to the Christmas Eve service. She’d suspected Grams was up to something when she called and told her to come later so she could take a nap before their usual dinner together. There was something in her voice, but Sara hadn’t paid enough attention with little Lanie fussing in her ear. “Next thing you’ll tell me is Santa took her to the North Pole in a sleigh pulled by reindeer.”
“No. A gold ’57 Ford Fairlane convertible.” The man shuffled uneasily in the doorway. “And they’re headed to Vegas. We think.”
“Vegas.” Movement in her arms made her aware Lanie was fully awake and ready to play. She grinned up at Sara with two shiny new bottom teeth, like she’d woken up just to laugh at her great-grandma’s latest flight of fancy.
Oh, Grams, what have you done?
Sara frowned at the orderly. “This is insane,” she said. “She has to be here. You searched the building? She loves the arboretum.”
Buddy nodded. “We’ve canvassed the entire building, mast to deck. Stem to stern.” The orderly fancied himself a sailor, although Sara couldn’t see how buying a bass boat gave him the chops to litter sailing terms through every conversation she’d ever had with the man.
“Could she be hiding for some reason?” There was never an inkling Grams was unhappy at Happy Acres. Or that her faculties were failing. The woman might be pushing eighty but she was still sharp as a tack. It was her mobility that forced Sara to accept her grandmother’s insistence she move to this facility.
Happy Acres was a large complex with suites on the west side for more independent residents, while those who needed assistance lived in the east wing. Grams had moved herself into the east wing after her fall four months ago, claiming it was time she move out of Sara’s tiny apartment anyway and make room for her first great-granddaughter. Sara argued until she was blue in the face but her independent Grams had already signed the papers and paid the upfront, non-refundable fees. It was a done deal by the time Grams asked Sara to help her pack.
A knot of apprehension grew in her chest, right above where little Lanie was elbowing her sternum. Sara smother her growing panic and laid the baby on the bed to remove her new hat and coat. “Okay, so Grams isn’t here.” She picked up Lanie and refocused her attention on the orderly. “When did she leave with this Santa Claus? Did she know him?
“Of course, she had to know him, or she wouldn’t have left with him!” She frowned. “Why do you think they’re heading for Vegas?”
He reached into his pocket and handed her a folded piece of paper. “Your grandmother left this note on her bed.”
Sara unfolded the paper. Sara, baby, don’t fret. Santa’s finally come, as I told you he would. Getting married in Vegas. Your Christmas present is under the bed. Don’t wait till tomorrow to open it. You’ll need it. Love, Grams.
There was a postscript. P.S. Didn’t have time to water my begonias. Please take care of that for me before you come? Can’t wait to see you!
Grams’ hold on reality was becoming dicey in Sara’s mind. “I don’t understand.” She glanced around the small room at the begonias Grams babied like children – fifteen begonias to be exact, scattered on bookshelves, an antique dresser and armoire, on the floor near the sliding glass doors that led to her private patio – as if the hand-painted pots also held the answer that would end her confusion. “How long has she been gone?” she asked.
Buddy shrugged. “We’re not sure. Last time anyone saw her was at the Christmas party before dinner. Santa was here handing out presents to all of the residents.” He reddened. “She sat on his lap and whispered something into his ear, they disappeared soon after that. No one knows when they left the building. We weren’t even sure she’d gone off with him until we found the note a few minutes ago.”
“Did you check under the bed yet? The note says there’s a package. There has to be more, some reason, something to tell us what she’s doing. Maybe it’s in there.” Not daring to leave Lanie on the bed unattended she handed her to her favorite raspberry-blowing buddy, put a hand on the edge of the bed, and began to drop to her knees on the floor.
“Oh, no,” the orderly said, trying to hand Lanie back. “Let me do that! You’re going to get your pretty Christmas outfit dirty.”
“I’m already down here,” she said, pushing his legs out the way so there was room for her to stick her head under the bed’s dust ruffle.
There! Just out of reach toward the wall at the top of the queen-sized bed. A large, rectangular box wrapped up in colorful images of Santa Claus and Ho-ho-ho greetings. A muffled chortle from behind her told her Lanie was occupied by Buddy for the moment, so she tried to snag a piece of wrapping paper to pull the box toward her.
“Umph.” She shuffled a few inches on her knees, her fanny sticking up in the air. Undignified, but she’d worn her wool pants and heavy silk sweater to church and there was no one to see besides Buddy.
She could almost…reach…it.
Meet the author…Karen Docter.
Karen Docter writes two different kinds of romance novels….
Contemporary Romance w/a Karen Docter: Romance…With a Kick of Humor!
Romantic Suspense w/a K.L. Docter: Women hunted by killers…men who’d die to protect them.
Karen’s contemporaries are cute & spicy romances. She loves writing about real men and women with dreams and goals that don’t allow for a relationship just so she can throw them in each other’s path…with a tickle and a smile.
Her romantic suspense novels (as K.L. Docter) are also filled with romance, although the dangers the hero and heroine face are intense, usually because a serial killer is bent on ending one or both of their lives before they can fall in love.
Karen/K.L.’s an award winning author, a four-time Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® finalist, and won the coveted Kiss of Death Romance Writers Daphne du Maurier Award Category (Series) Romantic Mystery Unpublished division.
When she’s not saving her characters from death and destruction or helping them fall in love, she loves camping and fishing with her family, reading, gardening & cooking. If she can do most of those things over a campfire, all the better!
Links to Karen Docter’s books, website, etc.
Catch That Santa (Amazon):
http://www.amazon.com/Catch-That-Santa-ebook/dp/B00ACDF0EG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1353766171&sr=1-1&keywords=catch+that+santa
Karen Docter FB Author Page: goo.gl/6TXc5X
Book Bench for Romance Lovers Group: goo.gl/UizOxd
Satin Pleasures Amazon: http://goo.gl/9EftxB
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5754902.Karen_Docter
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/karendocter/
CATCH THAT SANTA ~ STOCKING STUFFER ONLY $ .99
Congratulations Week 11-10-14 Giveaway Winners!
CONGRATULATIONS WEEK 11-10-14
GIVEAWAY WINNERS!!
Karen’s Killer Book Bench with JOHN GASPARD!!
Giveaway: John is giving away a paperback copy (US only) of THE BULLET CATCH to one lucky winner who comments on his **Author Peek** Interview or Killer Book Bench blogs. Thanks, John, for sharing your story with us!
WINNER ~ JOSHUA WILL!!
Karen’s Killer Book Bench with MICHELE CALLAHAN!!
Giveaway: Michele is giving a complete 5 book digital set of the Timewalker Chronicles 1-5 to one lucky winner who comments on her Karen’s Killer Book Bench blog. Thanks, Michele, for sharing your story with us!
WINNER ~ Mike!!
[All winners chosen by random.org. Thank you.]
