B.L. Blair's Blog, page 65

Norway Pictures

Three years ago, a friend and I were lucky enough to travel to Norway. The people were incredibly nice and the scenery absolutely beautiful.

They had these gorgeous Stave Churches:


And stunning waterfalls:

Friday Recipe - allrecipes.com

Strawberry Spinach Salad
Looks delicious, doesn't it?


http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Strawberry-Spinach-Salad-I/

Miles Apart by Rhonda L. James - $10 Amazon Gift Card

Miles Apart (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock #2)
By Rhonda L. James
Genre: Romance
Age category: New Adult
Release Date: May 31, 2015

Blurb:
From the author of Across the Miles, comes the sequel to the love story of Sebastian and Brooke. Go back to the days after Brooke left for London, and find out what happened to place Sebastian in that hotel room with nothing but memories and a bottle of whiskey.

What happens to America's favorite rock star when his picture perfect life falls apart? Again…

Sebastian and Brooke had a fairy tale romance, until one choice tore them apart. Brooke's decision to move away and run Max Wolf's struggling restaurant, Lardon's, stands in the way of Sebastian's plan to propose on the night of his birthday. They have a fight and he takes off, leaving her to board a plane to London without saying goodbye. While there, she meets Reid, a handsome chef who just happens to live in the same building she now calls home. Their newfound friendship, and Reid's attraction to her, only adds to the strain on her already fragile relationship with Sebastian.

Then, one out of control night changes everything as they know it, and their relationship is put to the test. Now, do they fight for what they love? Or choose to walk away? Will facing your demons destroy you? Or make you stronger? Surely, a love that was meant to be can face any obstacle.

A force too strong to ignore. A need so deep it aches. Undying love.

A heart may be broken, but it keeps on beating. And never gives up.

Brooke POV Excerpt:He turned around, and fire blazed in his eyes when he saw me. He was upon me in two quick steps, wrapping me in the warmth of his strong arms, erasing any doubt I’d had about this reunion. Our lips found each other, tender flesh pressing firmly together, both of us fighting for control of the kiss. Four weeks had passed since I’d had his lips on mine. Four long weeks. Thirty days of absolute heartbreak. Thirty days of fear and regret. Thirty days of longing for him, needing his touch. One kiss was all it had taken to erase all of it. One swipe of his tongue made me forget the pain. One brush of metal against my quivering lip was all it had taken to remind me of what it was that I had walked away from, and what I never wanted to lose again.I reached behind him, pulling him tighter against my body, feeling all of him, yet still needing more. The intensity of the kiss was unlike any I had ever known. It was out of control and yet it centered me. Our tongues swirled together like a finely woven fabric, each turn and stroke relying on the other. I was mildly aware that I was breathing, yet somehow breathing felt unnecessary. In that kiss I felt as if he was giving me all of him, yet I still craved more.“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, pulling away breathlessly, lips still mere inches from mine. The electric charge I felt coming off him was exhilarating, and I couldn’t stop touching him.“I wanted to surprise you.” I brushed my thumb over his piercing. “Surprise.” I whispered, pulling his lip between my thumb and forefinger. I brought my mouth to his for one more round before I remembered that we had an audience.“Oh, don’t mind us.” Dek laughed. “We love watching Sebastian get the girl, nothing new here.” He teased.Miles Apart:
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First book in the series:
Across the Miles (The Not So Bad Boys of Rock #1)
By Rhonda L. James
Genre: Romance
Age category: New Adult
Release Date: February 28, 2015

Blurb:
Sebastian Miles was twenty-three years old and living a charmed life. Loving family, beautiful girlfriend, and lead singer of the rock band, Paradox. Their debut album shot to number one on the charts, and they had just come off a worldwide tour, performing in venues filled to capacity. Then, one night, a tragedy rocked his world in a whole new way, turning him into someone he no longer recognized. Now, two years later, and on the other side of his own private hell, he learns to stop taking everything and everyone for granted. Yet, he is still alone. Then, one day he meets her, and suddenly, his darkened world is once again filled with hope.

Brooke Caldwell is a twenty-four-year-old prodigy in the culinary world. After a lifetime filled with heartache, she decides to pursue the opportunity of a lifetime by interviewing for a world famous chef in Los Angeles. While visiting the city, she is reminded how cold and calculated the world can be. Until she meets him, and he shows her a world filled with the love and support that she never knew growing up.

Two wounded souls. Two hearts that continue to beat, in spite of all the damage that has been done. What happens when their damaged hearts collide? And, could they possibly be the half that finally makes the other whole?

Across the Miles:
- Amazon
- Signed copy
- Goodreads
- Youtube

About the Author:
Rhonda loves writing, and reading, books. When not working at her office job, you will find her writing, reading, or cooking. She lives in Michigan with her husband of twenty-two years, and their two grown children. She loves talking online with fellow Indie Authors, and learning tips and tricks for reaching her readers. Her guilty pastime is playing on Pinterest, and she welcomes you to follow her boards.

- Website
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- Twitter
- Goodreads
- Amazon
- Pinterest


$10 Amazon gift card. For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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Alawahea by Sara L. Daigle

Tamara Carrington always felt different. One event in high school left her wondering if maybe she really was a freak, although she’d managed to leave that experience in the past—buried deep in her psyche. With the arrival of the exchange students from the planet of Azelle to her college, Tamara’s long buried memories threaten to erupt. As Tamara’s emotions build and her friendship with the Azellians grows, so does the knowledge of secrets within her own family.
With the deterioration of her mother’s health, Tamara doesn’t know where to turn for answers or solace. What has her family been hiding? Why does she feel inexplicably drawn to the Azellians? What will happen if she unleashes her long-suppressed passion? Will she survive or even recognize herself afterwards? Wanting answers, yet being afraid of what she might find, Tamara wonders if it would be better to remain asleep.

Excerpt:As they turned to comply, the ambassador walking away with them, Tamara studied the newcomers surreptitiously. The three young men and one young woman all had an air of comfortable confidence quite at odds with their new status here. The young man closest to her was a redhead. His features, even in profile, were delicate and chiseled—his nose a fine, straight blade on his face as he leaned over the table in the far corner. He rested an olive-skinned, tanned arm on the table, the muscles in his forearm etched in sharp relief by the pressure he exerted on his arm. Generous lips pursed as he read the card in front of him. His broad shoulders and chest, well-defined under a white t-shirt with some type of writing on it that she could not see, tapered down to a narrow waist and slender legs encased in light blue jeans. The second young man leaned over the table facing her. Sandy-blond hair fell over a high forehead into amber brown eyes as he read—a slight frown between them. His features were much heavier than his companion’s, with a slightly too-long nose and a jaw that was almost too strong. A good four or five inches shorter than the redhead, his dark blue t-shirt stretched across a well-muscled chest that, despite being stocky, had no spare fat on it at all. As he wrote on the card with his left hand, she observed that he was less tanned than the redhead. He nevertheless bore the same basic olive complexion. The dark-haired young man next to him nudged him and said something she couldn’t hear. The one who spoke suddenly grinned—his wide, generous mouth flashing straight white teeth. Black hair fell into his blue eyes, and he tossed his head, catching Tamara’s expression as she looked at them. He winked and returned his attention to the table in front of him. Not wanting to get caught staring, Tamara looked away. After a few minutes, she snuck another peek at him. His face reminded her of someone’s, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen those features before. Relatively small and straight, his nose had a slight flare to the nostril. His jaw was fairly prominent, making his face look long. The generous mouth softened the hard, mascu­line features of his face. He wore a vividly colored t-shirt tucked into a pair of long safari shorts. His thighs were quite heavy and muscular. His upper body was broad and unfinished looking, a little more muscular than the redhead but not as stocky as the blond. Her eyes traveled around the table to the young woman. The same height as the blond, she bent over the table with her back to Tamara. She had wavy brown hair that was cut in an attractive, shoulder-length bob and swept behind one delicate ear as she bent over the paper. Tamara couldn’t see her features from that position, but her lithe, slender body looked athletic. Tamara’s cautious regard swept on to the final member of the group. Standing at the head of the table, the ambassador leaned forward to answer a question posed by the woman. His expression intent on what the young woman was saying, Tamara got the opportunity to study him more closely. Taller than the other young men, the ambassador in his suit revealed less of his body structure than their jeans, t-shirts, and shorts. She had a moment of disappointment. Then, as if he noticed her attention, the ambassador looked up, caught her looking at him, and dodged around the desk to come up to her. Hastily, Tamara dropped her eyes to her desk as he approached, feeling the furious blush crawl up her face. “You are a student here?” he asked in that musical voice. Tamara looked up, her cheeks burning. She had a hard time meeting his eyes but forced herself to do so anyway. “Yes. Uh, my name is Tamara Carrington.” The ambassador leaned against the desk. “Carrington? Would you be any relation to James Carrington?” “He was, uh, my grandfather.” “Ah, this is wonderful! We in the diplomatic corps know Ambassador Carrington well.” He paused, then continued, “Was? Is he not still alive?” Tamara ducked her head. “He passed away a few years ago.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” The ambassador straightened and bowed to her, placing his hand on his chest as he did so. “He was well respected on Azelle. We knew he had been ill, but we had no idea he had actually transitioned.” He rested his hands on her desk. Leaning forward, those dark eyes appeared intent on her. He gave her a charming grin that might have even melted her grandmother’s cold heart. “Well now. Do you mind if I ask what you are majoring in?” Usually feeling fairly secure in herself, she wondered why she was suddenly blushing.Tamara swallowed hard as she tried to regain her composure—and her ability to speak. “I am, uh, in diplomatic studies. Or I will be when I declare my major this year.”His grin widened, and he looked at her from under thick lashes. “Any specific planet you might be interested in?”Dizziness assailed her as she struggled to remain calm. An odd pressure built behind her eyes and she lifted her hand unconsciously to rub the bridge of her nose. “Azelle is, um, interesting. I know more about it than my teacher does sometimes, mainly because my grandfather used to share stories with me. All the other planets are really great, too. I really like learning about other places. I’m not positive I want to be a diplomat like he was, but I do want to learn about other cultures and planets, and diplo studies is the best place to do that.” The pressure vanished abruptly just as it edged into pain. “Would you be willing to come to the embassy for a welcome party for these students tonight? It would give you an opportunity to mingle with embassy members and get you prepared for a possible diplomatic career.” One side of his mouth lifted higher than the other as his voice took on an almost wheedling tone. “I can also get you access to other diplomatic embassies. I have several contacts in both the Atheran and Dorbin embassies.” Tamara hesitated only briefly. “Sure, that would be great! I’ll come to the party tonight.” He straightened. “Seven o’clock, in the main lobby. Bring any of your friends too who you think might be interested in diplomatic studies.” Tamara blinked. A slight headache throbbed between her eyes. She managed to ignore it as the young woman stepped up to the desk carrying the eight cards. She smiled at Tamara. “Thank you. Here are the cards you asked us to complete.” The words flowed out of her mouth more heavily accented than the ambassador’s, although with the same musical lilt. Tamara smiled back and collected her thoughts. “Now you need to go to the Dean of Students’ office and get your room assignments.” The five Azellians left and the room suddenly seemed empty, as if there had been a lot more than just their bodies in the room. Ta­mara shivered, her head pounding. She flipped through the cards, reading the personal information listed there as she tried to figure out which was which. The only one she successfully identified was the woman, Mellis, since she was obviously the only female in the group. If Tamara attended the welcome party that night, she was sure she’d be introduced to the others—Greg, Justern, and Alarin—and learn who was who. Pushing aside her curiosity, Tamara focused on entering the data into the computer and tried not to wonder more about them. She’d probably get the chance to find out more, if she actually took the ambassador up on his invitation.As soon as the five of them walked out of the office, Merran reached out to Greg on his private level so he could converse with him telepathically without the others hearing. Did you pick up that she sensed me? I caught that she was becoming rather uncomfortable. I think you were hurting her. As a Healer, with a highly specialized sensitivity to others’ suffering, Greg often could tell things about peo­ple that everyone else missed. Is that even possible? Do humans even have psi?Theoretically, yes, they do. We talked about it a little bit in my training. I’m surprised Healers don’t talk about this in theirs. Healers aren’t exactly all that interested in humans … as you know … considering the challenges I faced getting permission to come here. Back to Tamara Carrington. What did you pick up?She was open on the surface, but her deeper levels are heavily screened by a very thick shield. When I pressed on it, it resisted me with surprising force.Is that normal?I don’t know. I haven’t run into a human with psi before. Whether they normally have it or not, Tamara certainly has a shield, at least on the deeper levels.Greg was silent for a moment. Shielded, huh? So, you actually think she’s psi? Sure, why not? I think she very well could be.Hmm. Maybe I should keep an eye on her.Merran glanced at him. Is she giving off a Call? He had been friends with Greg long enough to know the Healer responded to things that Merran himself couldn’t sense, but that those some­times odd decisions and directions were important. Not really. I just have a gut feeling.
Sara L Daigle has been creating stories since she first forayed into the world of writing at the age of eight. As an avid reader, growing up in a small town without much access to a library, and before the birth of the Internet, Sara devoured her mother’s extensive stack of science fiction and romance novels to keep her literary thirst quenched. Soon afterwards, she began writing her own stories and entertaining her friends by composing plays for them to act out.
A passionate interest in astronomy, anthropology, and linguistics, coupled with this early background in science fiction and romance, led Sara to merge the two fields and create a series of interlinked stories built around a fictional planet’s culture and its interaction with ours.
Sara currently lives in Denver, Colorado, with her husband and three very loving but energetic dogs.

Website: http://www.saraldaigle.com/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SaraLDaigleAuthorNovel Facebook: facebook.com/alawahea      Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/saraldaigleNovel Twitter: @Alawahea  

Fever by Tonya Plank - Book Giveaway

Rory’s once promising ballet career was destroyed by family tragedy and illness. She turned her life around and became a lawyer. Now at the start of her legal career, she lacks passion in her work and self-confidence in her abilities. But when she meets gorgeous, mysterious Russian ballroom dancer, Sasha, at a firm holiday party, her passions for life and dance are immediately re-kindled.
Since being torn from his Siberian family as a child, Sasha’s life ambition has been to be world ballroom champion, a path he was destined for until his former partner pulled the plug on their partnership. She went on to win the world title, leaving him, without a partner equal in ability, forever in second place. The instant he lays eyes on Rory, he recognizes the depth of her passion and talent, and falls hard for her in more ways than one.
But she also reminds him of great pain from his past. He must not only overcome his own demons but convince her to leave her demanding law career, and all that she has worked for in her adult life, to train with him full-time in order for their partnership – both on and off the dance floor – to work.  
This is part one in a continuing three-book series.
Excerpt:I first saw him at The Beverly Hilton. Witnessed him, is more like it. It was an early November holiday party thrown by my boyfriend’s entertainment law firm. I was secretly hoping I’d see some of the celebrities the firm represented. But no such luck. The room was filled only with boring lawyers. And, admittedly, I was one of them. I didn’t work at James’s firm, though. I’d just graduated from Hastings Law School in San Francisco and James wanted me to move down to L.A. with him. He was infatuated with L.A. Tuxedoed waiters had just brought us bowls of chocolate mousse. I nearly inhaled mine, hoping they’d soon open the dance floor. I’d been pretty bored for much of the evening, to be honest. James and Mitchell, the partner seated with us, talked of contract clauses and made veiled references to actors they couldn’t name to outsiders. Gossip isn’t really that fun when you don’t know whom it’s about, is it? I tried to make small talk with Mitchell’s wife, Cheryl, but we had so little in common. She spent her days getting beauty treatments, tanning, and lunching at places I was embarrassed to say I’d never heard of and well knew I couldn’t afford on my small-firm starting salary.        I’d just swallowed my last spoonful of mousse, eyes focused on my empty bowl, when the chandeliers dimmed. Oh good, something was about to happen. “Ladies and gentlemen,” a lush male voice said over a microphone, “we have a special surprise for you tonight.” Whispers filled the room. “Before we open the dance floor, the current national ballroom champions would like to perform for you. First in the U.S. and second in the whole world, please welcome…!” I couldn’t make out the names, partly because they were foreign-sounding and partly because James’s deep voice continued to vibrate next to me. The man loved to talk.  The room went dark for a few seconds. A low, pulsing drumbeat sounded from afar. James’s relentless baritone was really aggravating me. I smacked him on the arm. He jumped and I could see, even in the dark, his confusion. “Sorry, Rory,” he said with an embarrassed laugh and a shrug. I felt bad, and gently put my fingers to my lips, without turning toward him. The beat—from a conga drum—grew louder and closer. The spotlight shone down on a figure at the far corner of the floor. He wore form-fitting black clothing, his back toward us. He moved his hips to the pulse of the drums, which was getting heavier and faster. He walked backward, toward the center of the floor, taking these tiny steps, placing one foot behind the other, rocking several times back and forth and circling his pelvis around. James said something in my direction, perhaps to me. But I was too mesmerized to pay attention to him. I nodded, figuring that would be answer enough for whatever he wanted. The faster the beat went, the faster the dancer moved his hips and pelvis, and the more quickly he got to the center of the room, taking those small steps. He soon stepped and shook with such speed, his body was a blur. He looked like an upright snake. I’d never seen anyone move like that before. Then I noticed a woman doing the same, coming from the other corner. She had long, platinum hair, tied back into a long French braid. She had large eyes, lashes that practically reached her forehead, full lips, and high cheekbones. Her dress was hot fuchsia, and seemed to be made almost entirely of mesh, save for two patches of fabric covering her nipples, and a bikini bottom. Wow, she had guts. That looked like a costume malfunction waiting to happen. And yet she was dancing with the same confidence as he, snaking toward him at the speed of light. Soon, they turned to each other and took long steps to meet in the middle of the floor, hips gyrating even more. He was the most intriguingly beautiful man I’d ever seen. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, had jet black hair, slicked back, slightly longish and ending about an inch below the nape of his neck, large dark blue eyes, a well-defined nose, sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His spandex shirt had a wide, plunging V-neck, revealing very well-defined pecs. His skin was a glowing light bronze. He reached out and grabbed her, whisking her around, and, bending his knees, seated her on his lap. Now their hips rolled in unison. Instinctively, I sat up in my seat and straightened my back, elongating my spine and holding my arms out into the most elegant port de bras I could do, sure no one was watching me. When I did so I realized how restrictive my suit was. I’d danced ballet all throughout my childhood and teen years and once had dreams of becoming a pro. But wow, this looked so much more fun. Not to mention sexy. I squirmed in my seat.  As I fixed on those dark, soulful eyes, it seemed like he peered right back at me, into me, his piercing gaze sending an electric current up my spine. But I knew very well he couldn’t see me. I’d known, very briefly, what it was like to be on a stage with lights shining down on you and how you’re unable to see anything in the audience. I knew this was what gave a dancer charisma, or that nearly impossible-to-attain thing called presence, that allowed the dancer to connect with the audience in a way that made it seem like he or she was dancing just for you. But in a nanosecond his intense expression lightened into a smile, revealing dimples that made him ooze with boyish charm.He suddenly straightened and gave his partner a swift little bop to her butt with his pelvis. This was apparently her cue to move, as she took off in a long-stepped, fast-footed snaky walk away from him. He followed behind her, his hip and pelvic movements so much fuller and sexier than hers. I felt like I was going to fall out of my chair, watching him walk like that. He caught up with her and grabbed her from behind. He then beautifully shadowed her with his body by wrapping one arm around her waist and, with the other, grasping her hand and holding it high above her head. Together they bent over at the waist, brushing their arms over and out, then lifted themselves up and arched back—way back—then down again, the whole time moving their hips and feet in these tiny circles, around and around.   The drums stopped and the music changed to Spanish guitars playing slower, dramatic, gypsy-sounding music that soon sped up and began to take on a more playful bullfighter flair. My dancer slowly raised a large, red cape off the floor and held it high above his head. He arched his back and lifted his chest, making the shirt fall open even farther, revealing more of those bronzed pecs, along with major eight-pack abs. I could also spot the outlines of some kind of tattoo, which looked like it snaked all the way around his back, wrapping slightly around each shoulder. Hmmmm.  Using only the strength of his right arm, he whirled that cape high above his head in a full figure-eight motion. It was like a flash of fire in the black sky. The material looked heavy and I thought he must be damn strong to be able to move it so fully and precisely like that with only one arm.   As the music slowed, so did his arm. The cape came down and he tossed it aside. “Olé!” shouted one of the guitarists. The music sped up, and the dancer took a deep breath, lifted his chest, eyed his partner, and, with a vigorous snap of his fingers, went dashing toward her. When he met her, he whisked her into the air, her legs flying up and around him, before lowering her into a deep, dramatic dip. He was gentle, yet strong and precise. So trustworthy. After releasing her, he backed away, then ran back to her and did a huge turning jump high in the air, landing in a deep lunge, hand on his knee, chest up and out, a smug smile on his face. What an enormous, brilliant tour jeté! My favorite male athletic feat from ballet. What a truly endearing bravura show-off this guy was!  Just then, the music changed into a soft, slow violin piece. Very romantic, and actually quite ballet-like. I loved it. I wanted so badly to stand up and dance with him, my legs ached. He slowly bent down and held out his hand. She took it and he lifted her, not to her feet but all the way up to his waist, as she spread her legs into a forward split. He made her look weightless, like she was walking on air.  As soon as he set her down, she stood on one leg, lifting the other high in back of her, while he lunged onto one knee like he was proposing. I could do that arabesque penchée; I loved those in ballet. One thing I’d always had in class was hyper-flexibility. My years of dance training—my life before college and law school—flooded my thoughts. The dream I’d had to give up after Daddy died and I got sick. I felt my face get hot. The dancer rose to his feet and spun his partner around him, whipping her into multiple turns. Another step I could do in my sleep, and fast, very fast. I’d learned how to hold my head back and stabilize my equilibrium so I could spin faster, without spotting, like an ice skater. I found myself bouncing in my seat, I wanted so badly to get up and dance with him.
Purchase LinksAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YB8QGP0Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fever-tonya-plank/1122078516?ean=2940151420075Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/fever-a-ballroom-romance-book-oneARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-feveraballroomromancebookone-1824971-149.htmlSmashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/545934iBookstore: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/fever-ballroom-romance-book/id1000499022?ls=1&mt=11
About the AuthorAfter working for many years as a criminal appeals attorney in New York, Tonya Plank now lives and writes in Southern California. A former amateur ballroom dancer, she wrote the dance blog, Swan Lake Samba Girl. Her first novel, Swallow, won several awards, including gold medals in the Independent Publisher and the Living Now Book Awards, and was a finalist in ForeWord’s Book of the Year and the National Indie Excellence Awards.
When not writing, she enjoys taking road trips with her rescue dog, Sofia, devouring Mexican food and Cadillac margaritas, sweating to dance-based workouts, cuddling up with her cats and a good book, and seeing dance performances of any kind. Her favorite places in the world are Lincoln Center in New York City, the Pacific Coast Highway from Laguna Beach to San Francisco, and the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah.
To connect with her, please find her at www.tonyaplank.com where she tries to blog regularly.
Website: http://www.tonyaplank.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/TonyaPlankTwitter: https://twitter.com/TonyaPlankGoodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3241738.Tonya_Plank

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Monday Excerpt - Notice Me (Holton Series #2)

Upstairs, she took Katie to her room.  The five year old was tired but fighting sleep, and she begged for a story.  There was little Victoria could refuse Julie’s daughter.  She loved all of the Riley children but did admit to herself that Katie was her favorite.  Named after her, Katherine Victoria was sweet, affectionate, and mischievous.  Julie had put Michael to bed and stopped by Katie’s room.  She smiled when she saw Victoria with Katie’s favorite storybook in her hand."Do you want me to read to her?" she asked from the doorway."No.  I want to."Julie nodded and headed back downstairs.  Victoria picked up the book and began reading.  It wasn’t long before Katie drifted off to sleep.  Victoria carefully rose and covered her with the bedspread.  She stood a moment by the bed fighting the longing for a child of her own.  When she turned and headed for the door, she saw Phyllis leaning against it."Is she asleep?"Victoria nodded and walked over to Phyllis.  She linked her arm with the woman she considered a second mother.  As a child, Victoria had spent as many hours in the Moore home as she had in her own, and she had a great deal of love and respect for this woman.  Victoria closed the door softly behind her and headed for the stairs.  Phyllis stopped her before she reached them."Tori, you should consider having children of your own."Victoria closed her eyes momentarily against the pain her remark caused.  Twice in a matter of days, someone had made that suggestion, and Victoria fought the longing each time.  She smiled ironically.  "I think it is too late for me to marry, and I can’t imagine raising a child on my own."She looked at the older woman and saw that Phyllis was staring at her, searching for something."You’ve given up," Phyllis said softly.Fear raced through Victoria.  Surely, Phyllis didn’t know.  She quickly gathered herself together.  "What do you mean?""You’ve given up on Andrew, haven’t you?"Victoria leaned back against the wall and sighed.  "How did you know?""Oh, Tori.  I've known you since you were five years old.  I still remember the look on your face at your sixteenth birthday party when Andrew handed you his gift.  It was like a light had suddenly been turned on inside you.  You had always burned bright, but that day a fire ignited in you.  It worried me at first, but I should've known better.  You were incredibly sensible underneath all that flamboyant exterior even then.  You knew you were too young at the time, and you were willing to wait.  Only we both waited too long, didn’t we?  I wasn’t prepared for Carolyn either."Victoria watched Phyllis as she turned and looked down the stairway.  For some reason, it helped to know that she had been watching out for her.  She listened as Phyllis went on."I wish I could say I had loved her.  Carolyn was very nice and a good daughter-in-law.  She gave me two beautiful grandchildren, but I couldn’t love her.  You see, I wanted you for Andrew."  She smiled a little sadly at Victoria who leaned over and hugged her.  "Don’t give up on him, Tori.  He's coming around.  I can see it.""I don’t know, Phyllis.  I don’t think I'm making any progress, and it hurts so much.""I know it does, dear.  I wish I could say that you'll never hurt again, but we both know that's not true.  All I can say is that I think you are just what he needs.  I believe someday he'll realize that."
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Sunday Quote

Amazon Giveaway - Dead in a Dumpster: Leah Norwood Mystery #1

Go to https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/93fc101800cfa11c to enter to win a copy of Dead in a Dumpster: Leah Norwood Mystery #1.


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The Dating Intervention by Hilary Dartt - $10 Amazon Gift Card

The Dating Intervention (The Intervention series #1)
by Hilary Dartt
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Age category: Adult
Release Date: August 1, 2015

Blurb:
When Delaney Collins’s fail-proof dating system fails completely, her best friends Summer and Josie take absolute control of her dating life through The Dating Intervention. Although Delaney’s intuition is always right on when it comes to men, she never listens to it. If she doesn’t start now—with her friends’ help—she’s in danger of ending up alone and lonely in a sea of men with stained neckties and cumbersome baggage.

The Dating Intervention on Goodreads and Amazon.

Excerpt:
“Hey, Summer,” Delaney said when she answered. She paused. “We’re okay, but some jerk rear-ended us at Twenty-Three and Pinecone. Some asshole in a pickup truck. And he just drove off.” “Shit. Watch your language. Are the kids okay? Are you?” “Yeah. We’re all fine. The van is fine. Now I see why Derek insisted on you buying this monstrosity. Not even a scratch. Anyway, we were stopped at the red light and he was trying to stop when he hit us. It’s icy, you know? Not a huge impact.” “Thank goodness. Asshole. Did you call the police?” “No. Should I?” “Of course! Delaney, that’s a hit and run! It’s illegal. Call them, and call me back. Do you want me to come over there?”“I have your car.”“Right. Okay, call the police and call me back,” Summer repeated.  “Okay. Oh…”“What? Are you okay?” “Yeah. Someone just pulled up. It’s a guy. He’s getting out. And oh – he is very good-looking. Very. Call you back.” Dirty, scuffed brown cowboy boots, dusty ripped jeans, and a light blue t-shirt. So not my type, but so yummy.“Hey,” the man said. Delaney couldn’t stop herself from taking inventory: eyes the color of cobalt made contact with hers, and light stubble accentuated the planes of his face. He looked Greek, she thought, like Adonis. Longish, curly hair, full lips. He’d parked in the row behind Summer’s van, and now bent down to inspect the bumper. Could this be the first man to fill an empty slot on her dating roster?“I saw what happened.” He straightened up. “Are you okay?” “Oh yeah,” she drawled. “I mean, it’s fine,” she added quickly. “We’re fine. I checked the car, it’s fine.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” He squinted, leaned forward to look into her eyes. She nodded maniacally, all the while wondering what he’d look like as a bare-chested marble statue.“It’s a big van. Full-size. And size does matter.”Oh, my God. Shut up, Delaney. Shut up. Snap out of it. This isn’t like you. You’re acting like a twelve-year-old girl. You’re acting like the twelve-year-old you. 
About the Author:
Hilary Dartt is an author and freelance writer who grew up among the redwoods and hippies of California and now lives among the cacti and cowboys of the wild west. She and her husband live in Arizona’s high desert with their children and an assortment of pets, including five chickens. To maintain sanity and quiet her inner critic, Hilary runs, drinks wine and eats chocolate. She’s the author of The Intervention Series: The Dating Intervention, The Marriage Intervention and The Motherhood Intervention.

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Convince Me (Holton Series #1) is free on iBooks.   Anna is afraid of love, but Steven changes everything.
Anna West just wants to start over in a new town far away from her past. The only child of a mixed race couple, Anna learned about the ugly side of human behavior at an early age.  After watching her abusive father mistreat her mother, Anna knows that love is not for her.
Steven Carson has always known what he wanted, and from the moment he saw her, he wanted Anna.  Steven is ready for love.  He is ready to settle down, start a family, and he knows Anna is the one for him.  Now all he has to do is convince her.
Come visit Holton, Texas to see if Steven can convince Anna to take a chance on love. Convince Me is the first book in the Holton Series but may be read as a standalone novel.