Sharon Struth's Blog, page 9
February 25, 2014
Three Reasons Why You Should Read “Love and Other Games”
Raise your hand if you love watching the olympics (mine is raised)! This winter’s games left me glued to my TV. Which is why it’s such a fun treat to feature Love and Other Games, a collection of four sexy new adult stories centered around athletes competing in the Winter Games by Ana Blaze, Melinda Dozier, Aria Kane, and Kara Leigh Miller.
Author Melinda Dozier is here to give us three reasons why you should read this anthology. Welcome, Melinda. The startup shot has fired…take it away!
3 Reasons Why You Should Read Love and Other Games by Melinda Dozier
1) Missing the Winter Olympics already? Love and Other Games will put you right there again in the middle of everything. With four novellas based around the Games in a fictional town in Switzerland, you’ll read about athletes from several sports: hockey, snowboarding, aerial skiing, and ski jumping.
2) Still freezing from the Winter storms in your home? Love and Other Games will definitely warm you up! All four stories are full of hot kisses and winter Olympian escapades that will leave you steaming all over.
3) Want to find a new author to love? Love and Other Games will introduce you to four romance authors. Each author has their own style, but fit nicely together to create a whirlwind of fun, humor, love and … yeah, sex … in every story.
EXCERPT from “Trouble with Gold” by Melinda Dozier, one of the four novellas in the anthology.
In this scene, Nadia, the straight-laced Olympics volunteer, has to keep her eyes on the naughty US Snowboard team. Ty has other plans.
Ty held up a finger at his friends and pulled Nadia’s hand toward the bathroom. “We need to talk.”
When he shut the door, he pushed her against the wall and claimed her lips. His hands roamed up her sides and behind her, exploring the hollows of her back. She relinquished herself, abandoning all of her earlier uptightness – squealing at first, but then releasing herself, molding her body against his in the frenzy.
He finally pulled his lips away from her mouth, but leaned into her ear whispering, “I’ve been dreaming about touching you again.” His tongue caressed the bottom of her ear and then he sucked her earlobe, savoring in the taste. “For two nights now.”
She let out a little moan, but didn’t say anything in return, only stroking his chest through his shirt.
“Let me touch you.” His hands roamed to her front and up to undo her jacket zipper. He tugged down slowly and reached into the folds to be closer to her body. Touching, feeling, trying to – “Damn, what do you have on under there?” He placed his other hand against the wall and opened up her jacket wider.
A twinkle of amusement caught in her eyes. “It’s standard volunteer uniform.”
“They must think you’re all grannies or something. A vest, a turtleneck and a scarf. How am I supposed to feel you up?” He nipped her ear, her breath tickling his ear. Even with the granny garb, she turned him on more than anything.
She caressed her cheek against his own, breathing in and sighing out. “Although it sounds entertaining, we do need to get to lunch.”
He pulled the front of her shirt from her pants. “Just one look.”
Nadia swiped his hand away and re-tucked her shirt. “We can’t be late. I’m never late. Maybe later.”
“There’s no maybe about it.” His large hand took her face gently. “You. Me. Skin. Later.” He leaned in, kissed her soft lips, bit her bottom lip and pulled back.
The longing in her eyes met his, and for a second he knew he almost had her. But in the next instant, she moved out of his grasp and tightened her belt. “I have a job to do.”
Ty reached over and slapped her butt. “I do too, Lucky Lady. You.” He stood up straight and walked out of the bathroom. “Okay, come on, dipwads. We have lunch and an interview to attend to.”
Blurb & Buy Links:
Worth More Than Gold by Ana Blaze
Amy Pierce, the klutzy sister and manager of America’s Skating Sweetheart, is used to being invisible. But when a friend drags her to a party near the Olympic Village, Amy catches the eye of a sexy Norwegian ski jumper. It’s a magical night, but an awkward next morning has her running.
Everyone knows Erik Andresen’s best shot at an individual medal was back in 2010, before an injury pulled him from the competition. He’s there for his team, but a hot night and a remarkable final training session have him wondering if a gorgeous good-luck charm could give him another chance at the podium. With a little bit of luck, these two might have a shot at something worth more than gold.
Ana Blaze’s: Website | Twitter | Facebook
Trouble With Gold by Melinda Dozier
US snowboarder and notorious prankster, Ty (Trouble) Madsen is only getting a taste of his own medicine when his Olympic teammates shackle him to a fence wearing nothing but his boxers.
Reception and protocol volunteer, Nadia Hoffman, gets up close and personal with the sexy snowboarder to rescue him, but she’s not the kind of girl who lets her hormones get in her way. A professional performance could help her land her dream job at Olympics Committee Headquarters, but her new assignment supervising the rambunctious US Snowboarding Team is making that difficult.
Can she see behind the snowman in the community center bathroom and into the warm heart of the man everyone calls Trouble?
Melinda Dozer’s: Website | Twitter | Facebook
The Girl Behind the Gold by Aria Kane
Greek aerial skier Lia Milonas’s parents are about to lose the family farm. Saving it means medaling and landing a huge sponsor. While her no-nonsense attitude has her well on her way to a medal, it hasn’t won her a place in fans’ hearts.
“Come back with a story that will make readers cry, or don’t come back.” This is what Brandon James’ boss told him before he left New York to cover the Winter Games for Moment Magazine. With a wink and a smile, he can charm his way into any invite-only party, but that career-making story is nowhere to be found – until he meets Lia.
The two strike a deal that should get them both what they want – but neither would have guessed they’d also find what they need.
Aria Kane’s: Website | Twitter | Facebook
Ice Gold by Kara Leigh Miller
Colton Campbell thrives on the fast paced, adrenaline rushed lifestyle of being an Olympic hockey player. Despite Brenna Jessup’s abhorrence for the games and the athletes, she’s hand-picked as the official photographer for the U.S. Olympic Hockey Team. When a faux pas by Brenna almost costs Colton his career, she owes him. Too bad for her, Colton doesn’t want apologies — he wants retribution! And he knows just how to get it — and her — in the process.
Kara Leigh Miller’s: Website | Twitter | Facebook
February 13, 2014
A Lesson in Listening
Snowy days, like the one I watch from my office window right now, often inspire images of frolicking in the snow and steamy cups of hot chocolate afterwards. When my husband and I lived in our condo, that’s what they amounted to.
The first winter we spent in our single family home, however, a snow day meant something else; someone had to shovel the driveway. For the first few years, that’s exactly what we did. My husband tackled the lion’s share. I muddled along, helping but complaining.
Then one day, when we received a small financial windfall, he went out and purchased a snow blower. Hallelujah!
Visions of watching him remove the snow while I watched him through the picture window pranced in my head. Maybe I’d enjoy a hot chocolate or even a glass of wine while he cleared a path for our cars in the winter wonderland. Bill had a new man-toy and I’d received an honorable discharge from the tiresome chore of removing snow. Life was good.
The first day he had a chance to use it, he called me into the garage before he even started.
I went downstairs, thankful I hadn’t poured that glass of wine yet.
He stood in front of the snow blower. “I got a lighter blower so you could use it, too.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need to use it.” I turned to leave.
“What if it starts to snow in the morning, after I’ve left for work? You don’t want to shovel, do you?”
I stopped and faced him. “Won’t you just do it? I mean isn’t that why we got this?”
He snorted a laugh. “You should listen. You may need to use this one day.”
The lawn mower and leaf blower are close friends of mine. I’m that wife. The one who helps with outside chores. He probably figured I’d like to add another friend to my posse of gas guzzling acquaintances.
I “uh-huhed” my way through his demonstration, giving him no more than half my attention. When he finished, I waltzed back inside, each and every instruction slipping down the old memory drain.
About a month later, we had a storm. It started after he’d left for work and mounted as the day wore on. By 3 p.m., if I didn’t remove the snow, he might not be able to pull into the driveway.
I begrudgingly went out and took a shovel. After about three shovelfuls, I dragged out the snow blower. The day he gave me instructions returned, but most of it was a clear as a dirty windshield.
I tracked him down at the office and returned to the garage with the cordless phone. This time, I listened to everything he said.
Somehow, I got it started. In truth, it was fun. Way more fun than shoveling. When my next-door neighbor came out to do his driveway, he wandered came over to our house with his roaring machine and offered to help.
I shooed him away. “Thanks, but I’m good. This is fun!”
Today, during our storm, my husband is home but he’s sick with a cold. Guess I might get a chance to play with the snow blower today. Yippee! Okay, it doesn’t warrant cheers, but it’s better than shoveling.
How do you feel about shoveling and snow days?
February 2, 2014
Three reasons why you should read: The Farmer and the Wood Nymph by JoAnn Ainsworth
Today’s feature is from my fellow Blue Ridge Literary Agency author JoAnn Smith Ainsworth. One of her latest releases is book 2 in the Buffalo Series.
Take it away, JoAnn…
THE FARMER AND THE WOOD NYMPH BLURB:
Waking alone on a mountainside, LILAH recalls nothing about her life, except a strong belief that some man somewhere loves her. A well hidden wedding band holds the hope that man will come to rescue her. But when her salvation comes in the form of a farmer resembling a Viking God, Lilah struggles to stay faithful to the ideal she cannot remember.
ERNEST NOLAN finds the vivacious beauty wandering in the wilderness and hopes that true love will be his at last. Spontaneous and exciting, Lilah is everything his careful heart has longed for. But a decent man never trifles with another man’s woman. The mystery of Lilah’s identity and that wedding ring must be resolved.
Searching for answers, these two opposites discover that differences can bring both attraction and difficulties. Can they overcome the obstacles and learn to walk a path of love and harmony?
REASONS to read THE FARMER AND THE WOOD NYMPH:
#1 – After the excitement of Lilah’s rescue diminishes, practical aspects loom. How can she—with propriety—include Ernest in any future plans when she can’t remember if she’s a widow? How can she confidently build the foundation of a new life when her old life might reappear at any moment? What if she likes the person she’s becoming better than the person she was before the memory loss?
Opposites Attract
#2 – Opposites attract because they complete each other, but being able to live in harmony is a different ball of wax. How can Ernest and Lilah learn to accept their differences and rise to a level of unconditional love?
#3 – When both the past and a future seem to have collapsed, what inner strengths can Lilah dredge up to survive in limbo until her God shows her a new path?
Excerpt THE FARMER AND THE WOOD NYMPH (Buffalo Series Book II) historical western romance (sweet romance)
Her brain must be addled. She’s calling me “darling”.
Ernest took his time dismounting, not wanting his bloodied appearance to scare this delicate creature. If only he had some way to wash off Diablo’s blood. Here was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he must reek to high heaven.
As he led the horse toward her, closing the distance, a flesh and blood woman threw herself against him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Illusion had given way to tangible reality. Reluctantly, he pried loose her arms and set her back on her feet. “Hold up, there. You have me mistaken for someone else.”
“Husband, don’t you know me?”
“Regretfully, ma’am, I’m not your husband.”
He could kick himself for letting the “regretfully” slip out. It was unwise to expose his vulnerability to this unknown flesh-and-blood wood nymph.
A look of disappointment spread across her sun-kissed face. “He sent you to rescue me instead of coming himself?”
“No, ma’am.”
She cocked her head. “Who are you, then?”
“I’m Ernest Nolan from the Osterbach farm near Buffalo. I’m with that posse.” He pointed toward the dismounting men in the distance. “I apologize for my appearance. I was in a knife fight with an outlaw. He lost.”
“Thank goodness. I thought that was your blood.”
“Some is.”
She came closer, pulling a lace-edged handkerchief out of a torn apron pocket. Taking his hand into hers, she wiped at the dried blood.
“How did you come to be here?” He asked the question in as unthreatening a manner as he could muster. He looked at her torn clothing. “Were you ravaged?”
She gave up on the dried blood, dropped his hand and stepped back. “I can’t remember. I think I got lost.”
He rubbed his chin. “What’s your name?”
“Lilah. That much I do remember. But not my last name.”
She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. The golden band glinted with the morning sun. “This ring and its inscription—Beloved wife. Love forever—are all I know about my marriage.”
Ernest looked around the meadow for clues on how she got this far away from her people. There was no structure nearby, not even a shed.
“Where’s your horse?”
“I don’t have one. I did find broken pieces of a wagon and some food.”
This woman didn’t fit into the niches into which Ernest organized his life. Instead of crying, she was curious. Instead of panicking, she was talking with him as if they’d met on the sidewalk in town. With farming, every seed became a particular plant. This woman exhibited no recognizable structure. Everything seemed fluid. He rubbed the back of his hand over his face. “How will you get home?”
“I don’t know where home is.”
Ernest shook his head. Maybe she was an illusion after all, created in a brain hit too hard by a pistol butt. Yet, he’d never seen an etching of a folklore nymph wearing a sun bonnet and an apron.
BIO:
When JoAnn Smith Ainsworth carried wood as a pre-teen so her Great Aunt Martha could stoke up the iron stove to prepare dinner, she wasn’t thinking, “I could use this in a novel someday.” Yet, the skills she learned from her horse-and-buggy ancestors translate into backdrops for her historical romance and paranormal suspense novels.
To learn more, visit http://www.joannsmithainsworth.com, Twitter @JoAnnAinsworth or Facebook’s JoAnn Smith Ainsworth Fan Page.
Contact her at joannparanormal@gmail.com.
BUY LINKS:
Amazon – http://amzn.to/Zgbls6
Barnes & Noble - http://bit.ly/HMX2KH
January 26, 2014
“My Writing Process” Blog Tour
Today’s post is a stop on the “My Writing Process” blog tour. Thank you Rachel Brimble for asking me to hop on board!
This tour is a chance for authors to offer others a glimpse into their work and innermost thoughts. Yes, I’m usually an open book (both pun & bad cliché intended), but perhaps I’ll show a side yet to be seen.
Q. What am I working on?
I’ve just been offered a three-book contract on a series, the first book with the title “Share the Moon.” So I will be quite busy working on those additional two books, all taking place in the fictional northwestern Connecticut town of Northbridge, located on beautiful Blue Moon Lake. Here’s a little about SHARE THE MOON.
Blue Moon Gazette reporter Sophie Shaw doesn’t know what make of resort developer Duncan Jamieson. Days away from signing a contract to purchase property and fulfill her dream to start a vineyard on its fertile soils, the prosperous businessman sails in and blows her offer out to sea. The purchase was a chance to start her life again and put the death of her son and a marriage that crumbled with the loss of his life behind her. When the only other reporter on the small-town press has a family emergency, Sophie gets stuck dealing with the executive, but everything he does compromises her integrity as a journalist.
Duncan has personal reasons for buying the land, but his offer hinges on the approval of zoning changes to permit his super-sized resort to be built. Duncan remembers Sophie from family trips to the lake during his boyhood, where an adolescent crush on her left him without conquest. His heart always a shut book, the growth of his business took priority in his life. Older and wiser, he now finds Sophie notices him this time. Despite his confident exterior, letting her into his life offers its own set of risks.
Bribery rumors make Sophie wary of Duncan and his firm, yet she cannot deny his appeal. When her research as a journalist uncovers a Jamieson family secret, trust becomes the hardest lesson of all for them both.
Q. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
As a writer of romantic fiction, my characters are a little unconventional. The ages of most romance heroines and heroes fall between twenty to early thirties. My characters are approaching the mature side of thirty and beyond. My novels also have an element of intrigue, where ordinary people in ordinary lives face some unusual circumstances.
Q. Why do I write what I do?
Because I love watching a romance bloom and also love a little mystery. I devoured every Nancy Drew book possible when I was younger, but always wanted to know more about her relationship with Ned Nickerson. I supposed I’m now satisfying my own wishes.
Q. How does your writing process work?
I’m a pantster, who tries to plot. I write every single day, from 7:30 a.m. until my dogs start hounding me for dinner or a walk. Characters evolve. They start as a sketch, but the more I’m with them, the colors of their personality fill in. Each new scene, line of dialogue or back story incident gives them the breath of life. It’s a process though, not an immediate thing. I spend a lot of time standing back and trying to figure out the big picture of my story, the purpose of my character’s journey.
This blog tour will continue on 2/3/14 with posts from these fine authors:
Shehanne Moore: Shehanne Moore writes gritty, witty, historical romance, set wherever takes her fancy. What hasn’t she worked at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author? Shehanne still lives in Scotland, with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds collide, she plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking. Her third book. Loving Lady Lazuli, the first in the London Jewel Thieves series was recently released. http://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/
Ellen Butler: Ellen Butler, in 140 characters or less. Author, mother, wife, shoe lover, chocoholic, fashion fan, sarcastic wit, autumn enthusiast, dancer, book worm, and good-time devotee. Visit me at www.ellenbutler.net
Noelle Clark: Noelle Clark is an Australian author who weaves romance, suspense and adventure into colorful and often exotic locations around the world. Widely traveled, Noelle uses real life experience of places, culture, and people, as a backdrop to her stories, giving the reader an authentic taste of the location. Her novels feature strong, mature, heroines and heroes, who – often without knowing it – are ready for new beginnings. Noelle’s characters, like her, believe that love can be sweet at any age. Visit her website at http://www.noelleclark.blogspot.com.au/
January 22, 2014
What’s your virtuality?
The day my new French door refrigerator arrived, I immediately called my husband at work.
“Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but…” I paused to caress one of the six 5-gallon size door bins. “I love this new refrigerator so much that I’m divorcing you so I can marry it.”
He chuckled, expressed his best wishes for my happiness and said he had work to do.
At the time my stupid little remark didn’t have much merit, but the other day I saw the new Spike Jonze movie “Her,” a story about a man who falls in love with and dates his new operating system. By dates I mean Sunday strolls, outings with other couples and intimacy. Yup, there’s even a sex scene.
Watching a grown man doing all of the above with a device resembling a smartphone left me concerned. Mainly because the world we currently live in provides a perfect foundation for the technology-exaggerated world portrayed in this film. A prime example is the way tied to our cell phones, the gadget almost as necessary for our survival as a vital organ. If it gets lost, aren’t we’re one step away from putting a photo on the back of a milk carton?
Missing: First generation iPhone 5, last seen wearing a leopard case cover.
You probably don’t have to think to hard to imagine this scene: A family of four goes out to a restaurant. Mom, Dad and their two teenage children sit at the same table, their shoulders hunched like a praying mantis family while each one is focused on their phones. In my own home, this same scenario is played out while we gather together to watch television after dinner. Questions directed to each other are often met with a grunt or a confused “What? Did you say something to me?” because we’re submerged in reading Tumbler posts or Candy Crush (guilty as charged).
As a writer, my daily life revolves around an empty house; my only companions are two dogs and my computer. My virtual world allows me to travel the globe, network or talk shop with other writers, agents and publishers. I visit friends in Australia, Scotland, England, Ghana, nearly half of the fifty states and God only knows where else. While I’ve never met these people, they “feel” like friends, no less than the other people I know in the flesh. All thanks to the world wide web.
The messages in the Spike Jonze film seem multi-layered, although I wonder if he simply wanted to show us how it is possible to take technology a step too far. Maybe several steps to far. In a way, it made me long for the simplicity we had in our lives before technology took over, although I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t love the power I have at my fingertips.
In case you’re wondering, I’m still married to my husband. The thrill of the refrigerator has worn off. I mean, he’s a nice fridge, but lacking in any real substance.
Do you have a hybrid existence, where one foot is planted in the real world and the other in a virtual world?
December 16, 2013
Three reasons why you should read: His Judas Bride by Shehanne Moore
Today I welcome Scottish author Shehanne Moore, whose humor, energy and friendship gives me another good reason to visit my grandmother’s homeland of Scotland someday. She’s here to give you three reasons why you should read her latest release, HIS JUDAS BRIDE. Shehanne’s books really send you back to another time and place, all with some sizzling adventure.
But first, here’s the book’s blurb:
BLURB
To love, honor, and betray…
To get back her son, she will stop at nothing…
For five years Kara McGurkie has preferred to forget she’s a woman. So it’s no problem for her to swear to love and honor, to help destroy a clan, when it means getting back the son she lost. But when dire circumstances force her to seduce her fiancé’s brother on the eve of the wedding, will the dark secrets she holds and her greatest desire be enough to save her from his powerful allure?
To save his people, neither will he…
Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, ruthlessly guards heart and glen from dangerous intruders. But from the moment he first sees Kara he knows he must possess her, even though surrendering to his passion may prove the most dangerous risk of all.
She has nothing left to fear except love itself…
Now only Kara can decide what passion can save or destroy, and who will finally learn the truth of the words… Till death do us part.
Take it away, Shey…
Sharon, firstly thanks for asking me to your fantastic blog. Your posts are something I look forward to, so it’s a great honor to be here—especially brining along a hot Scottie seeing as I know about your little obsession with men in kilts! Why would anyone read my book, His Judas Bride. Well, I’m not sure but hopefully these moments might convince you.
#1 –I just love writing about how people don’t want to fall in love. So a fav scene
Stay out, Callm!
for me was when Callm McDunnagh, the Black Wolf of Lochalpin, sets Dug–that’s his three and half-legged hellhound—at Kara’s bedroom door after a snowstorm forces them to share the same roof for a night. Everyone thinks it’s to keep her in her chamber. In fact it’s to keep himself out.
#2—It’s the same the next morning when he gives her half an hour to get ready to leave after she locks Dug up. She sails in and challenges him in front of his men about the order being issued 45 mins ago. The Wolf can’t believe it. That, hard man that he is too, who should be rubbing his hands at the prospect of handing her over to his brother, he’s so smitten, he wants to keep her for himself. And he can’t.
#2—Kara and the Wolf have both suffered horrendously at her father’s hands. If you want to know more about that, you’ll have to read the book, which is really about them finding that piece of common ground between them by tortuous inches and degrees. The scene below is kind of example of that, although I’d have to say my third favorite is where the Wolf, not trusting Kara an inch, but loving her just the same, goes for broke and kills her father and rescues her son, so she can have her life back. The odds against him are huge but he’d rather do it than see her place herself in further jeopardy. You just gotta love a guy like that. And when Kara’s little boy puts his grubby paw in his….well… I’d a tight throat writing that one.
Book Excerpt
Did her very thoughts inspire him to step toward her in that second though, iron bands of foreboding cinching her chest, as he next gripped the ties of the cloak?
He started to untie it. “Your dues.”
What was there to conclude, when there wasn’t even the chance of the merest fumble on his par, unlike earlier? Except her whole body stiffened, her gaze veiling, as she drew it back from the pretty silver dishes. The crystal flagons. It had taken years for her to learn to deal with men like him, to fight every humiliation. And what had it taken him to undo that oppression? That abuse? Five minutes in the castle yard.
The effect on her was unquantifiable. Something she could not allow when his very stillness breathed danger.
He tossed the cloak onto a stool. “Sit.”
Anger burned in her blood that she had thought him different from these others. The suspicion sneaked it was probably why he had defended her in the yard, battering her defenses, so when she did finally walk in here, they would already be swirling in an ebbing tide.
She jerked up her chin, her throat so tight she could barely speak. “Where?”
“Well.” The air of visceral annoyance dropped away from his manner and he gave a weary sigh. “Where do you think?”
As if in answer, she spied a bed with ornate posts and covered in dark mulberry. Whatever else she was doing, she was not sitting on that. She held her chin higher. On this occasion he wasn’t making her either.
He gave another sigh. “Hell, what about you use some of the imagination you were so clearly born with and stop having me do all the work? The day’s been long and hard enough.”
She suspected the day wasn’t the only thing. Indeed she was burningly aware of it. In their bonds she clenched her hands into fists.
She wouldn’t obey. Not if wild horses dragged her around the castle yard. It wasn’t her idea to marry him. A vow was only a vow if given willingly. In her heart she had known she was never going to be his wife. He would find the truth of that if he came any closer. She was burningly aware of that too.
He reached behind him and dragged into view another piece of furniture. A chair. He set it there between them without taking his eyes off her once.
“Christ, Princess, what did you think I was meaning?”
BIO
Shehanne Moore writes gritty, witty, historical romance, set wherever takes her fancy. What hasn’t she worked at while pursuing her dream of becoming a published author? Shehanne still lives in Scotland, with her husband Mr Shey. She has two daughters. When not writing intriguing historical romance, where goals and desires of sassy, unconventional heroines and ruthless men, mean worlds collide, she plays the odd musical instrument and loves what in any other country, would not be defined, as hill-walking
Websites
http://shehannemooreweeblycom.weebly.com/ com.weebly.com/
http://shehannemoore.wordpress.com/.wordpress.com/
http://furiousunravelings.wordpress.com/.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shehanne-Moore/163736780417433
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Kilting-the-Book/1400031303553598
Buy links
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
All Romance Ebooks
December 9, 2013
Three reasons you should read: Love Through Time by Nana Prah
Today I’m thrilled to invite one of my long distance friends, Nana Prah. Nana was born in Ghana, raised in the US and has returned to Ghana to live. Today she’ll tell you three reasons why you should read her new release, Love Through Time.
Hi everyone. Sharon was sweet enough to invite me onto her blog to tell you about three reasons why you should read my paranormal romance novel Love Through Time.
Blurb:
Defending her family – no problem. Recalling past lives – maybe just a small problem. Taking a chance on love again – well…
Jasmine Gibson has her world turned upside down when she meets gorgeous Sean Taylor. He’s the first man she’s been attracted to since her fiancé dumped her two years ago. But when the disturbing daydreams start, Jasmine begins to fear that her actions in a past life may have finally caught up with her.
Sean finds it impossible to stay away from Jasmine even though he can’t shake the inexplicable feeling of betrayal, simmering deep inside him every time he sees her.
To complicate things, someone is out to hurt Jasmine and every time she and Sean are together, the police have to be called. Even if Jasmine can make Sean trust her, the two of them may not stay alive long enough to enjoy their love this time around.
Nana’s Three Reasons…
1. The unique reaction of Jasmine and Sean to each other when they first meet. The term visceral fits best. I won’t tell you want happens to them, but each reacts in a way you wouldn’t expect in a romance novel. None of this tingling business for my two characters.
2. The first time we experience Jasmine fighting, blows my mind. The woman was born to kick ass and defend the innocent. Every time I think of this scene, she impresses me. But at one point I cringe because she gets a little crazy with it. Just a little. Okay a lot.
3. The past lives stories are wonderful. There are four of them ingrained within the novel and I love them all. Only two of them have to do with the past relationships of Jasmine and Sean, but all have helped to shape Jasmine into the compassionate and yet violent person she is today.
Addendum – I’m not normally a rule breaker, but I couldn’t resist adding this last bit. Jasmine’s grandmother is a hoot. I love every scene with her in it because she’s got a wonderful sense of humor and verve for life.
Excerpt:
She was coming to terms about their past lives, but he was having trouble just dealing with her in this one.
“I must have been a great man in previous life,” Sean said jokingly, but Jasmine’s expression turned serious as she held onto the doorpost. “Are you all right? Are you getting lightheaded?”
“No, I’m fine.”
But he could tell something was bothering her. “Now you’re holding something back from me.”
“Do you believe in past lives?”
“I haven’t thought about it. I’ve seen so much in my travels around the world that I wouldn’t be surprised if it existed. Do you?”
“I think it might exist, and the thought about coming back and making your soul better is very appealing. At the same time it could be painful, especially if you hurt someone else in a past life and met them again in another.”
Sean felt a chill go up his spine. He knew there was something more to this conversation, but he couldn’t pin point it. He wanted to stay and talk with her about it, but he had to get back to studying.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. It was nothing but a friendly kiss, but he felt the shock of it straight down to the soles of his feet. Jasmine looked just as affected as he was.
Buy Links: Black Opal Books | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords |ARe | Kobo
Find Nana Prah at:
Blog : www.nanaprah.blogspot.com
Twitter: @NanaPrah
Facebook: Nana Prah, Author
BIO:
Nana Prah was born in Ghana, West Africa, raised in the US and currently resides in Ghana where she loves her job as a writer and nurse educator. She has been writing since she can remember (in her journal) and has been an avid reader of romance novels since the eighth grade. She has finally been able to utilize the years and years of inadvertent research into writing her own romance novels where love always conquers all.
December 6, 2013
I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…so help me Santa.
“Mommy, tell me the truth.” My daughter, a very worldly third grader, stared at me with a grim expression. “Is Santa real or is it you and Daddy?”
The truth? If I continued with the story I’d been jabbering about for eight years, was it really a lie? Or does it fall in that vague area of polite untruths we tell to loved ones like, “No really, I always hoped someone would buy me a Chia Pet for Christmas” or “No, those pants aren’t too snug.”
My second thought came from a place deep inside me. A grinch-like place that 
found stress in the secrecy surrounding the Santa myth. Like when my daughters would ask “Why is Santa all over the place if he’s one man” or “But so-and-so doesn’t have a fireplace so how does he get in the house?”
Yes, there are lies upon lies we tell to keep myths alive. It was starting to feel just plain wrong. I’m very upfront with my kids, perhaps at times to a flaw. So how could I reconcile my guilt with the pile of lies offered in the name of fun, like the easter bunny and tooth fairy?
I believed I had many years before anybody questioned my cute tales. But now my maturing daughter stood before me, touting a truth heard through the grapevine in her classroom. Yup, the grapevine in Mrs. Trodhal’s third grade class was strong and scary, but I’ll save the sex questions for another post.
“Well, honey, are you sure you REALLY want to know.”
She nodded, her expression quite serious.
I took in a deep breath. “No, Nicole. Santa isn’t real. Daddy and I buy you all the gifts.”
I launched into the history of St. Nick only to realize tears welled in her eyes so I stopped my explanation. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s not real?” Her face scrunched in agony, but I knew we’d have to plow though this.
“No. I’m sorry, honey. You said you really wanted to know.”
“But, but…” Her lower lip quivered and she sniffled a few times. “But Rudolph is real. Right?”
Tears blurred my vision. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and realized that sometimes the truth went down just as painfully. How could I answer this second probe?
I tried to buy time so I could think. ”What?”
“Rudolph. He’s not pretend, is he?”
Then I did the only thing a mother could do. I took both her hands and stared into her large blue eyes. “Of course he’s real! Why wouldn’t he be?”
Her frown turned right side up into a wide smile. “Really?”
“Yup.” I wiped a spot on her damp cheek. ”That’s why we need to leave out some reindeer food on Christmas Eve. It’s hard work to fly around all night.”
She walked off, blissfully unaware that the existence of one and the denial of the other made no sense. I suppose by now (she’s twenty-three) she’s figured out the truth.
Oh, and for the record, derby-wearing snowmen do come to life so they can sing on TV and elves CAN be dentists…but only if they attend dental school.
Do you believe?
December 2, 2013
Three reasons why you should read: Polite Enemies by JoAnn Smith Ainsworth
I’m excited to have fellow Blue Ridge Literary Agency author JoAnn Smith Ainsworth join me today with her latest book POLITE ENEMIES. If you enjoy historical westerns, then you will want to read further.
First a blurb, then JoAnn WILL tell you three reasons why you should read this book.
Blurb:
IDA LOUISE OSTERBACH survived Indian and range wars and the murder of her husband. She’s kept the farm going through sheer grit and the help of her cousin, a friend and two farm hands. She’s managed a profit, paid the mortgage and re-paid the crop loans. Hard working, focused, fiercely proprietary, the last thing she has time for is romance.
JARED BUELL—widower neighbor and wealthy rancher—was never particularly charitable when it came to farmers, even eye-catching ones like Ida.
Take it away, JoAnn…
Hi Sharon! I’m so excited to be here with you on your blog! Thanks for inviting me.
REASONS to read POLITE ENEMIES:
#1 – Middle-aged neighbors, Ida and Jared, had great first loves and marriages. With beloved spouses deceased, they are convinced no other love could match their ideal. That’s especially true since these neighbors remain frosty over a property dispute from a couple of years back. Worse yet, she’s a farmer planted in the middle of ranching territory. It takes an invading outlaw gang to shake things up.
#2 – Sex is not the dreamy world of youthful lovers, but a practical matter between two mature adults—and just as satisfying. But is it enough to overcome years of distrust?
#3 – Heavy rain and melting snow caps from the Big Horn Mountains create creek waters which overflow and threaten to submerge newly planted crops. Will Nature finish what the outlaw gang started and end only with Ida’s defeat?
Excerpt POLITE ENEMIES (Buffalo Series Book I) historical western romance (mild)
Chapter 2
Jared Buell rode his powerful gelding along a dirt road bordered by distant, snow-capped mountain peaks toward his two-thousand-acre Bar J ranch. At almost forty-two, he could look back with pride to what he’d accomplished. He’d carved a profitable ranch out of Wyoming wilderness, defending it against renegade Indians looking for his scalp, and Texan range-war invaders. He and his foreman, Russell Quentin, were returning from transacting business in Buffalo.
“Rattlesnake’s nephew tried to sweet talk the Osterbach widow out of her farm,” Russ said. “Got chased away with a gun.”
“Except that it’s a Campbell doing the buying, I’d be glad to see that female bulldog gone from there. No decent woman should be working in the fields.” Irritation settled between Jared’s shoulder blades.
Russ—a no-nonsense, muscular man in his early thirties—looked at him. “She probably thought you were trying to drive her off. You still pissed off?”
“Of course not.” Jared drew himself taller with a big intake of air. “My offer to buy her farm after Dean was killed was an act of charity.” He sounded supercilious even to himself.
An amused expression crossed Russ’ face. “You trying to convince me the offer had nothing to do with her being a good-looking woman? Don’t try to bamboozle me, old friend.”
Jared felt himself flush. Even though it was six years since his wife passed, he didn’t think of women that way. Isabella was the love of his life. No other woman could fill her shoes. “Of course not,” he said again. “I knew she’d be strapped for cash for the funeral. Besides, I assumed she’d be sensible like most women and go back east to her family.”
“Instead, she convinced her cousin to join her and kept the farm going,” Russ said. “Put a burr under your saddle, did it?”
Before Jared could think of a reply, he heard a rider coming fast toward them. He touched the butt of his gun and unhooked its leather safety strap. His irritation grew when the man didn’t slow down, but galloped past, his black Stetson almost completely blocking his face and his horse kicking up considerable dust from its pounding hooves.
Jared reined in and turned to stare down the road at the man’s receding back. A glimmer of recognition brought a scowl. A vise tightened on his heart even as he shook his head in denial. It couldn’t be. Not in his own back yard.
“Know him?” Russ asked after the rider dropped out of sight.
“I may.”
For years, he’d been chasing, without success, a man who’d killed his brother and sister-in-law during a bank robbery. The Kansas posse had decimated the murdering gang—except for its cunning leader. He’d slipped away—saving his life, but leaving behind the bank’s gold.
Jared had left the ranch in Russ’ hands for long periods of time while he hunted. He’d been gone when Isabella sickened and died. Jared knew that the guilt of his not being there for his beloved wife colored his current perspective of women. “His build reminds me of the man I’ve been chasing the past nine years—the one who murdered my brother and his pregnant wife.”
His foreman sounded anxious. “That was Rattlesnake’s nephew.”
Jared was taken by surprise. “Son of a bitch.”
“He just moved to Wyoming. I met him last week in the saloon.”
Jared’s brain dredged up details from almost a decade ago. Same build. Same hair color. The bank robber wasn’t named Campbell, but names could be changed. Had the fugitive he’d been chasing for almost a decade taken up residence in his own back yard? He couldn’t be sure.
Russ interrupted his thoughts. “Some say Art was an outlaw before he took up ranching. Could be his nephew is one.”
Jared gritted his teeth. “If I’m right, that Osterbach woman’s up against a man without a moral bone in his body.”
AVAILABLE AT:
November 25, 2013
Three reason why you should read: Beyond the Gate by Terri-Lynne DeFino
I’m thrilled to have author Terri-Lynne Defino here today to tell us about her romantic fantasy novel Beyond the Gate, part of a series published by Hadley-Rille Books. I read Finder, the first in the series and found myself caught up in an amazing world created by this wonderful author. But I’ll let Terri tell you why you should take a peek at her work:
Hello, all! Thank you, Sharon, for inviting me to share moments from my romantic fantasy novel, Beyond the Gate, with your readers. In a book full of moments, it’s hard to pick three! First, a blurb:
Blurb
Returning to the Vale after university, Linhare is thrust into the long-standing grudges and precarious alliances that maintain her realm. But there is more to the peace than political intrigue: Ambition. Secrets. And a terrible deed, recorded in a scarred, red journal, that should have remained forever secret.
Wait’s secret.
Unearthing his past was an accident; keeping it to herself was not. Then the damning journal vanishes, heralding a spiral of betrayal and dark magic that casts Linhare from Vales Gate and into a world of bolleys and Drümbul Lords, of gobbets and ghasty-haints. A world from which Linhare has little hope of returning—until Wait falls into Fae to pursue her, bringing with him hope, love, and more truth than she can bear.
Truth cannot remain entombed forever. Only long enough…
Let’s see if any of these tickle some fancies. Three moments from Beyond the Gate:
Princess Linhare keeps a secret—a terrible secret. Having found an
old journal tucked into a rotting windowsill in the university library, she reads it without qualm, until she realizes it was written by Queensguard Wait, her late-father’s friend and protégé. Reading of his darkest moments becomes betrayal, but she cannot bring herself to give it back. Then the journal goes missing, and she loses her chance to make things right, as well all ability to look him in the eye again, despite all she feels.Wait has sworn an oath to protect the royal family for as long as he draws breath. Being Queensguard to a royal house in safe, prosperous Vales Gate is nothing like it was back when he traveled the archipelago with King Bennis, mending ancient rifts and rivalries, but his oath keeps him castlebound—and far too close to Linhare. His heart betrays his duty, even as he keeps his distance. When Linhare vanishes under violent circumstances, heart and duty combine to send him hurtling Beyond, into the fae world after her.
Jinna is finally reunited with her beloved friend, Linhare after six years separation. The two quickly fall into old ways, steal a pony and
cart and escape to Lower Dockside, a seaside town of fish, sailors, and anonymous indulgence. When Jinna accepts the invitation of fire-eater Egalfo to meet him at the Vulgar Raven after his show, she doesn’t think further than a cup too many and a quick tumble; but Egalfo asks her to leave the Vale behind and join his troupe. Can she leave Linhare and the luxurious life as the heir apparent’s best friend? Will she even get the chance?Thanks for reading!
Excerpt
Too soon, the sweeping lawns surrounding the timber and stone castle appeared through the trees. Linhare tucked the reins under her chin to unbraid her hair. Thick and wavy and the color of roasted chestnuts, it reached her knees. The mass of it was close to torture as Linhare could imagine during these hot summer months. She’d taken to braiding it at university, but her stepfather was having none of that now that she was back in the Vale.
“For mercy’s sake, Linny, if you’re not allowed to braid it then cut it and be done!” Jinna had stood, a hand on her hip and shears snapping the air. “Your father never meant for you to take that silly promise this seriously.”
Tendrils floated like milkweed around her face. She licked her fingers and smoothed them down. A promise was a promise, and she would not break it to appease her stepfather’s sense of fashionable propriety. Catching up the sides, she wound them loosely around the rest of the mass and bound the ends together at the nape of her neck, just as she had seen other young women do in Upper Dockside.
“We’ll go around to the back,” Wait reined in beside her to say. “Through the kitchens.”
“And up the servants’ passageway. I know, Wait. We’ve done this before.”
“So we have.”
Linhare laughed softly. “I imagine you did not think you’d still be doing so once I was a grown woman.”
“No, I didn’t. But I have to admit, I’d have been disappointed to be right. ” No ghost of one this time; Wait’s smile lit his face like sunlight on waves. That old, familiar shiver prickled henhairs all over her body; and sent her hand to her pocket, and the secret that ruined everything.
Give it to him. Give it to him now!
But Linhare’s hand came out empty.
Bio
Terri-Lynne DeFino is a fantasy writer living in rural Connecticut. Her first novel, Finder was published by Hadley Rille Books in 2010. Her second novel, A Time Never Lived, released in May, 2012. Beyond the Gate is her third. Her original fairy tale, Jingle, was published as an ebook in February, 2013.
When she is not writing, Terri-Lynne wields her red pen like a ninja, editing for Hadley Rille Books since 2011. She has edited several novels to date; and though her authors curse her ninja-editor skills now and then, they always thank her in the end.
Website: http://bogwitch64.livejournal.com/
